OH, DEAR HEART

ANASTASIYA BEZUKHOVA princess of house bezukhov ❝--- & what is a girl if not a pulsing thing learning what the world will take from her. ❞

[ofbezukhov]

𝖆𝖓𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖘𝖎𝖞𝖆'𝖘 𝖕𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗  ( 13′  aug  -  19′  aug )

                         total -  two  hundred and seventy.

gif  chat  /  para  replies  ( ten  points ) - (  22 )  two hundred and twenty.

edits  /  graphics  (  ten  points )  -  (  3 )  thirty.

meme  responses (  five  points )  -  zero.

self  paragraphs  ( twenty  points )  -  zero.

challenges  ( twenty  points )  -   (  1 )  twenty.

[ofbezukhov]

maricofviana‌.

the  prince  of  asturias  had  learned  to  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  the  tumultuous  bedlam  in  the  streets,  growing  unfazed  by  it  —-  whether  the  people’s  shrieks  were  that  of  praise  or  riot,  their  words  failed  to  move  him  to  sympathy.  the  trastámaras  were  bred  to  float  above  the  noise,  seldom  entrenched  within  it  and  never  buried  beneath  it,  and  although  irksome  the  clamour  paled  in  comparison  to  the  ever  present  and  lingering  chaos  of  a  spanish  encampment  site.  thus,  his  attention  remained  undivided  and  gripped  by  the  russian  woman’s  prevailing  dialect,  an  oddity  within  the  italian  duchies,  and  unfamiliar  to  the  spaniard’s  ears  although  it  was  easily  identified  for  it’s  unforgiving  and  (  ironically  )  cool  rigidity. 

❛  the  papacy  could  elect  Christ  himself  to  the  throne,  and  the  florentine  people  would  still  have  reason  to  riot  —-  fortunately,  the  palazzo  is  not  far.  are  you  well  enough  to  walk,  my  lady?  ❜  his  words  were  perhaps  a  little  more  purposeful  than  mere  mindlessly  commentary  as  he  offered  the  woman  an  arm,  for  courtiers  of  the  now  annexed  aragonese  kingdom  surely   regarded  callixtus  as  just  that  ——  a  messiah  among  men.   ❛   tell  me,  will  your  tsar  be  attending catholic  services  this  sunday?  i  understand  the  orthodox  church  does  not  take  traditional  mass.  ❜

                 𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑇𝑆, 𝑃𝑅𝑂𝑇𝐸𝑆𝑇𝑆 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝑈𝑃𝑅𝐼𝑆𝐼𝑁𝐺𝑆 𝐻𝐸𝐿𝐷 𝐿𝐼𝑇𝑇𝐿𝐸 𝐴𝑃𝑃𝐸𝐴𝐿 𝑇𝑂 𝐻𝐸𝑅, it  was  perhaps  selfish  of  her  to  dismiss  the  whims  of  those  with  loud  voices  and  desperate  appeals,  but  she  held  little  patience  for  things  which  disrupted  her  enchanted  world.  In  childhood  naivety  she  had  slammed  her  feet  onto  the  floor,  arms  crossed  about  her  chest  stubbornly  as  she  stared  up  at  her  treasonous  father.  He  spoilt  everything  the  day  he  was  caught,  and  so  she  had  thus  grown  to  loathe  any  act  of  rebellion  or  treachery.  Although,  one  might  accuse  her  of  hypocrisy  given  her  own  desire  to  disrupt  a  marriage  and  replace  a  tsarina,  but  it  was  not  treason          just  selfish. 

anastasiya  took  the  offered  arm,  as  she  had  always  done,   ❛  quite  well,  your  highness.  i  shall  be  much  more  at  ease  once  we  are  inside.  one  never  knows  how  close  a  fight  is  from  erupting,  and  i  should  not  like  to  be  caught  up  in  it,  ❜  she  explained,  lips  pursed  as  she  looked  around  at  the  unsettled  italians.  at  the  mention  of  the  tsar,  the  princess  felt  a  flutter  of  fascination,   she  liked  to  think  of  him  often.   ❛  it  is  hard  to  say,  since  it  is  different  to  our  own religious  practices.  but  he  may  feel  compelled  to  come  in  order  to  keep  harmony  between  rome  and  russia.   ❜

[ofbezukhov]

demediciblood‌.

valentina looked over her shoulder, it wasn’t her idea of a good time but she looked back to the blonde. “of course,” she agreed, her smile just as bright as the one before her. most days her cheeks hurt from the false action. but anything to get the throne. “shall we then, you imperial highness?” she rose an eyebrow to the other, a small giggle coming from her lips.

                 𝐻𝐸𝑅 𝐻𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝑆𝑁𝐴𝑇𝐶𝐻𝐸𝐷 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑂𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑅 𝑊𝑂𝑀𝐴𝑁'𝑆,  excitement  blossomed  wildly  in  her  veins,  enough  for  her  to  slam  her  eyes  shut  for  a  moment,  to  feel  the  rise  of  the  music  as  it  grew  into  a  familiar  melody.  ❛   do  you  enjoy  dancing,  your  highness,  ❜  nastia  probed,  as  she  weaved  herself  through  the  mass  of  bodies,  desperate  to  reach  the  beating  centre  of  the  ballroom,  where  she  would  surely  feel  most  alive.  like  the  unveiling  of  a  butterfly  from  it’s  cocoon,   the  princess  shone,  beautiful  and  unique. 

[giflizgillies]

[ofbezukhov]

effxrvescentrose‌.

Wine present in the clasp of her hand, the fingers of Rosana curved soft, frequently lifting it against her lips for a drink, embracing the sweet liquid as it ran across her lips and down her throat. Hardly a stranger to the act of drinking, she found herself often with a glass in tow, fond of anything to make her state feel a little giddier. Of course, it was commonplace for those of her status to drink wine, or the like, instead of water, but she drank it in a little more than most during such events. “I have never tasted such a thing as that, but the name holds a curious ring to it. An intriguing prospect” She noted, hues sparkling for a moment, enticed at the notion of the untried mystery. “Oh, I am, truly- this eve gives us a great deal to celebrate, both in election and entertainment, and I intend to soak in it all” Lips flickering upwards, a devils glimmer of enjoyment present, she focused more on the latter. “A pretty delicacy, they will be of some small niceness to indulge in” Light words commenting, she found herself hoping for something more…substantial, to quench her hunger. 

                 there  was  something  of  the  girl’s  nature  which  spoke  to  her  own,  anastasiya  dared  to  guess  that  they  were  not  so  very  different.  elegantly  dressed,  with  a  flavour  for  excitement, it  was  a  familiar  feeling  to  her,  ❛  you  speak  words  of  wisdom. ❜  anastasiya  took  another  sip  of  her  wine,  allowing  the  rich  taste  of  dark  grapes  to  slide  over  her  tongue.  wine  was  delicate,  like  the  fruit  it  came  from,  she  could  drink  it  heartily.  ❛  i  shall  be  doing  much  of  the  same,  anything  to  fill the  evening  with  excitement!   ❜  she  wondered  how  much  she  could  get  away  with,  before  her  brother  interfered. it  wasn’t  often  that  she  forgot  herself  or  her  duty,  but  occasionally  she  was  swept  up  in  feeling. 

[ofbezukhov]

cecilystanley‌.

though she had never seen or previously heard of vodka, it wasn’t hard for her to figure out that it was another drink than the wine that was served. “i can’t say i have ever tasted vodka before, though the wine is not quiet the same as the one i am used to in England.” it wasn’t a bad taste, only different and she wasn’t about to speak ill of it even if she had found it distasteful. turning her head fully to face the other woman momentarily, before looking around at the extravagant decorations. she had noticed that the lady’s clothing looked rather extravagant as well, but she decided not to act upon it just yet. “very much so and to think there is much more to come. i can’t imagine just what the next’ll be. i am afraid i have yet to taste those either.”

                    ❛   some  have  claimed  to  feel  closer  to  god  from  drinking  it,  ❜   nastia  chuckled,  pale  fingers  perched  against  the  bridge  of  her  nose,  as  she  recalled  a  memory  of  one  summer  in  russia.  ❛  they  are  foolish  to  think  it.  i  dare  say  it  is  the  vodka  which  has  confused  their  mind  with  such  evangelical  thoughts. ❜  subtly,  her  eyes  flickered  over  the  petite  woman’s  fair  features,  there  was  an  innocence  to  her  face,  a  rosiness.  if  it  was  designed  to  be  deceptive  or  not,  anastasiya  could  not  tell.  such  summations  could  only  be  made  once  she  knew  the  lady  better.    ❛  oh  my  dear,  you  simply  must  try  a  citrus  tart!  the  cook  is  an  artist  and  the  tarts  are  his  muse.  i  don’t  think  i’ve  ever  tasted  anything  so  mouthwatering. ❜

[ofbezukhov]

                     ❛   well,  it’s  not  vodka,   ❜   she  joked,  as  she  knocked  her  glass towards  another,  who  had  commented  on  the  abundance  of  wine.  anastasiya  liked  to  thing  that  she  was  not  easily  befuddled  by  glasses  of  wine,  for  she,  like  most  russians,  enjoyed  something  a  little  stronger.  it  was  likely  that  vasily  had  bought  a  barrel  of  vodka  for  their  long  trip,  and  she  was  half  tempted  to  convince  poor,  unsuspecting  courtiers  into  trying  it.     ❛   are  you  enjoying  yourself  this  evening?   it’s  clear  that  no  expense  has  been  spared,  but  i’m  simply  delighted  that  they  have  citrus  tarts.  i’ve  developed  the  taste  for  them.  ❜

[ofbezukhov]

demediciblood‌.

the balls were the perfect time for valentina to make an entrance, and small talk to others maybe gaining a favor or two for her husband’s campaign. knowing there would be a new pope elected and days of balls and celebration she had changed from her morning gold gown into a red and gold ball gown with a shirt that flared out and a neckline that was modest but with a slight drop in the middle with diamonds around her neck and hanging from her ears. she looked ever part a queen regent, except by the will of god.

she was on the side mingling when she would feels eyes on her back, she turned eyeing the person for a moment. her eyes narrowing for a moment before she smiled and walked over. “i am see it in your eyes,” she greeted, bending her knees for a moment. “and the answer is yes i would love to dance.” 

                  despite  her  apathy  for  the  occasion,  anastasiya  was  delighted  by  the  show  of  celebration  which  the  proud  italians  had  put  on  for  the  visiting  kingdoms,  all  those  who  wished  to  bask  in  the  glory  of  a  new  crowned  pope.  she  was  vain  enough  to  consider  herself  golden  enough,  without  needing  a  religious  light  shining  down  upon  her.  nastia  was  out  of  breath  as  she  finished  dancing  with  a  handsome  italian,  only  to  hear  the  uplifting  tune  of  another  song.  she  noticed  that  a  group  of  ladies  had  begun  to  dance  together.

❛  it  would  be  fun  to  join  the  other  ladies,  wouldn’t  you  agree?  ❜   any  excuse  for  her  to  show off,  to  shine  among  all  other  courtiers.  nastia  had  a  reputation  in  russian,  one  she  had  to  keep  up  in  florence.  

[ofbezukhov]

         PRINCESS  ANASTASIYA  BEZUKHOVA  &          TSAREVNA  TATIANA  ROMANOVA

[ofbezukhov]

maricofviana‌.

the  commotion  in  the  streets  increased  tenfold  as  the  coronation  inched  closer,  flocks  of  expectant  europeans  flooding  into  both  florence  and  rome  from  the  most  remote  corners  of  the  globe  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  his  holiness  donning  the  magnificent  papal  tiara  —– and  to  plead  for  mercy  at  his  feet.  a  rather  bitter  irony  presented  itself;  the  silken  whispers  of  clairvoyants  in  the  now  deserted  aragonese  court  humming  beneath  the  mop  of  curls  piled  upon  the  prince’s  head.  the  trastamaras  downfall  was  an  act  of  god,  and  there  was  nothing  left  to  do  but  beg.  how  could  anyone  have  guessed  that  in  ten  years  time,  a  trastamara  pope  would  sit  upon  the  holiest  of  thrones?  it  would  no  longer  be  they  who  would  need  beg.

mario  turned  to  the  individual  beside  him,  and  he  would  hazard  a  guess  that  they,  too,  were  seeking  an  escape  from  the  pandemonium  rising  in  the  streets,  wavering  between  the  utmost  of  support  for  the  elected  candidate  to  riotous  tyranny  against  his  reign.  his  lips  pressed  together  sternly.  ❛  no  one  can  deny  the  passion  italians  feel  toward  their  realm,  can  they?  fortunately,  the  palazzo  borgia  does  not  allow  the  sights  and  sounds  of  the  city  to  seep  through  —-  we  would  be  glad  to  receive  you  if  you  require  respite  from  the  commonfolk.  ❜    

                  the  election  of  a  new  pope  was  to  be  considered  the  most  revered  and  holy  of  all  events,  yet  anastasiya  felt  strangely  indifferent  to  it.  the  relations  between  rome  and  russia  required  a  delicate  balance,  one  that  she  could  neither  grasp  or  understand.  even  so,  as  people  cheered  in  the  streets  for  the  new  pope,  anastasiya  could  not  help  but  think  of  occasions  which  truly  excited  her.  exquisite balls  and  masquerades,  tables  laden  with  the  finest  foods  and  large  cups  overflowing  with  sweet   wine.  and  the  dancing,  so  much  dancing! 

anastasiya  glanced  up  at  the  prince,  who  stood  tall  beside  her.  he  certainly  had  the  profile  of  a  royal.  it  was  a  favourite  pasttime  of  hers,  to  watch  how  those  of  royal  bloodline  behaved,  ❛   a  generous  offer,  your  highess.  i  would  gladly  take  you  up  on  it.  the  noise  is  growing  a  little  irksome.  ❜  anastasyia  pulled  a  face  as  she  said  the  word,  a  visual  representation  at  her  reluctance  to  slander  the  celebration.   but  she  could  not  hold  her  tongue,  it  was most  irritating  to  behold.

[ofbezukhov]

oftsarevnas‌.

              The young girls had been mocking the poor likes of Anatole since Tatia could remember, both comical and insufferable the man had been the source of never ending amusement. “Ah, ribbons, yes.” The grey eyed beauty said as her hues shun brighter. “I’ve been quite intrigued with the intricate hair styles of the natives, the ribbons and pearls all over their tresses, I am inclined to trying it out, perhaps this time I will enjoy to wear my hair differently.” It was not secret to most that the crown princess enjoyed her hair free and down her back, even when she was often asked to wear it up she denied them. Only one instance had occur in which she had worn her hair tightly up for a long period of time, someone had mentioned it made her look more mature, older, and she had done it to try and please her husband. The idea had crushed and burned like many other before it. “After this let us return and enjoy some refreshments, shall we?”

                   vibrant  ribbons  were  held  up  to  tatia’s  dark  tresses,  as  anastasiya  pinched  them  between  thumb  and  forefinger,   ❛   the  purple  suits  you  well,  ❜  anastasiya   complimented,  as  she  then  move  to  hold  up  a  sage  green  toned  ribbon.  ❛   is  there  a  colour  that  does  not  compliment  your  complexion?  ❜  she  asked,  her  tone  full  of  false  annoyance.  she  had  never  felt  a  need  to  compete  against  tatia,  perhaps  that’s  why  their  friendship  had  grown  so  organically.  but  then,  it  was  not  her  friend’s  place  in  the  kindom  which  she  coveted.    ❛   yes,  i  have  a  taste  for  citrus  tarts  so  hopefully, the  cook  can  accomodate  those  needs!   ❜ 

[ofbezukhov]

alexandercfengland‌.

he couldn’t help but grin, always good natured even when he was starting to feel sleep deprived. “be at ease your highness, I pride myself in being a gentleman first and foremost,” he confessed. he learned early on the importance of appreciating women - it was less troublesome and much more satisfying. 

“is it the stars that have captured your interest? do you know the stories that the ancients told?” he asked, palm resting on his cheek as he walked closed toward the railing of the structure. Looking upward, he could see the star formation of andromeda - and a few other ones. “or is it something else that has occupied your mind, your highness?” he cocked a brow, curious to see if he could get a glimpse of her mind. 

                  ❛   then  i  shall  take  your  word  for  it,  your  highness,  ❜  anastasiya  responded  in  good  faith.  she  looked  over  the  man’s  stature,  from  the  dark  hair  to  the  sharp  jawline.  she  wondered  how  many  ladies  in  the  english  caught  had  swooned  over  such  a  man.  if  she  were  allowed  to  be  more  liberal  with  her  heart,  perhaps  she  might  have  felt  inclined  to  do  so.  still,  there  was  nothing  wrong  with  flirting,  although  that  had  forced  one  or  two  to  brand  her  as  a  tease.  a  rather  unfair  nickname  in  her  option,  for  she  had  made  no  promises  to  any  of  them. 

❛   i  wondered  if  the  moon  ever  got  lonely.  far  too  many  poets  have  written  of  it’s  beauty,  but  do  they  not  ponder  it’s  existence?  ❜  her  brows  knitted,  ponderous.  growing  up  she  had  pitted  widowed  women  how  lost  husbands  too soon,  their  young  years  still  before  them,  with  little  prospects  for  the  future.  now,  she  wondered  if  she  were  no  better  off.  of  course,  if  her  brother  has  his  way  then  should  was  not  destined  to  be  alone  forever.   ❛   have  you  ever  been  treated  so  gently  because  others  feared  that  you  were  delicate  enough  to  break...perhaps, not.  ❜

[ofseymour]

petrcv‌:

‘out-of-context writing’ sentence meme

❛ good or bad, it isn’t indicative of our progress. ❜

❛ who taught you of love? ❜

❛ nothing we feel is understood by anyone else. ❜

❛ the ear that does not exist hears nothing. ❜

❛ it’s ugly and obscene to our beauty-spoiled eyes, isn’t it? ❜

❛ which is worse: the end itself or the anticipation of it? ❜

❛ death is a friend to all. it’s the deliverer. ❜

❛ it doesn’t make me whole; it makes me filthy. ❜

❛ it is not such a stretch to best the greatness of life. ❜

❛ my effort is far too valuable to waste. ❜

❛ i think you are too forceful to die tonight. ❜

❛ to make an enemy of a god among men would be unwise. ❜

❛ we are not our ability to rationalize, but our ability to survive. ❜

❛ it will be a wreck of expectations if we are truly divine. ❜

❛ we shall not even shake in the wind of this storm. ❜

❛ i would tear myself apart before i sacrificed on your behalf. ❜

❛ i should have assumed we would cross paths. ❜

❛ i’d hate to have to hunt you down later. ❜

❛ it makes life smoother, but it gives us jagged edges. ❜

❛ to be is one thing; to be alone is another thing entirely. ❜

❛ every man is a righteous man, at least in his own mind. ❜

❛ anger is not nearly as bankable as greed or jealousy. ❜

❛ don’t aspire for death—a conclusion overshadowing the performance. ❜

❛ silence? i thought i deserved something more. ❜

❛ strange that an empty doll feels. ❜

[ofbezukhov]

[lucifer-chloe]

[ofbezukhov]

kingedwardplantagenet‌.

  Florence lay in cool shadow; the sky a dark, silken curtain in the late hours of the evening. Edward spoke no more to his advisers, nor the figures who hovered around his person always, offering to fulfill any wanton need. He gave many an endearing word to the hound bound to his side; a strong, silky, loving and loyal spaniel, his expressive eyes were forever attached to his master, inclined to a yap or lick, if he sensed an alteration in Edward’s mood. The quieting palace gave Edward refuge from the incessant nagging of his off-spring; even the ones he considered tolerable (and perhaps, the ones he even deigned to like) could wear his nerves to the width of a pin. He had journeyed down a hallway blindly, allowing the whims of his hound to guide his path; but the moons influence, spilling from a neighboring balcony, called to him. 

   Edward admired the moon as she spoke; his eyes collected the scene before him - the spires, distant cathedrals, the roofs that disappeared into the blue sea of the nights mist. He enjoyed the sweet breath of dusk in his lungs, as well as the company of a handsome young woman. “You offer a poet’s account of the heavens, my dear lady; I would not expect such pondering’s from a youngling such as yourself, though so often we possess wisdom handed to us, by way of life’s cruelty.” She possessed a high-bred face; a smooth brow, with delicate features only afforded to women born under a blessed, noble sun. Edward knew not her name; yet he felt afflicted by a strange sense of déjà vu by her presence, as if she were a remnant of a fractured past. “Has the enduring beauty of the night’s sky, across planes and kingdoms, summoned you to this balcony on such a late hour? I confess myself so often indoctrinated against nature’s beauty, due to my preoccupation with mortal matters - only by chance, have I found myself here.” 

                   kings  radiated  power  &  ever  since  she  was  a  little  girl,  anastasiya  had  been  fascinated  by  them.  she  remembered  when  foreign  royalty  came  to  visit  &  it  was  a  pure  show  of  wealth,  prominence  &  divinity.  her  family,  along  with  many  other  prominent  members  of  russian’s  nobility  had  been  invited  to  the  spectacular  celebrations.  among  the  sea  of  people,  the  king  still  shone  brighter  than  them  all         according  to  the  faith,  the  king  was  appointed  by  god.  the  man  beside  her  did  not  need  to  wear  a  crown,  for  her  conclude  that  he  was  in  fact  a  king. 

❛   i  am  not  certain i  have  gained  much  wisdom  in  my  life,  by  i  do  have  a  passion  for  poetry,  ❜  anastasiya  smiled, and  tugged  her  shawl  closer  around  herself  as  the  light  wind  wafted  through  the  warm  summertime  air.  there  was  doubt  in  her  mind  that  her  brothers  would  call  her  wise,  their  description  would  certainly  hold  more  colour.    ❛  the  sky  is  beautiful,  but  when  i  look  up  at  the  moon,  it  makes  me  feel  sad.  it’s  so  alone  up  there  in  the  dark  stretch  of  night.  ❜   she  masked  her  flicked  of  sadness  with  a  polished  smile.  

[ofbezukhov]

alexandercfengland‌.

at least the woman was well aware of such a fact - and thus, made her ever the more intriguing to be out and about on her own. “fear not my lady, I have no ill intent to exact on any undeserving woman,” he spoke the words lightly. there were very few people he would ever resort to violence and if he were do so, never upon the fairer sex. 

“a pleasure,” he murmured. he knew only the very brief history of the russian royal house but knew little detail or faces that followed. “prince alexander of england, house of plantagenet, the king’s second son.” he was proud to claim his title as thus but knew that there were certain unpleasant associations with it as well. he could only pray that she had not succumbed to the gossip of the stories that flew about. they were simply unjust and untrue. “you must be incredibly strong and brave to wander about in the dark on your own at this hour. or was it the stars that you couldn’t resist?” he mused, understanding the beauty of the clear evening skies. 

                   ❛   what  a  relief  to  hear,  ❜  she  responded  somewhat  amused.  anastasiya  wondered  if  all  people  who  said  that  they  meant  no  ill  will  against  another  immediately  thought  themselves  to  be  believed,  as  though one's character  was  based  purely  on  a  self  assessment.  she  was  certain  that  was  one  of  the  reasons  why  fair  maidens  ended  up  in  the  clutch  of  a  monster,  at  least  in  the  stories  she’d  consumed  as  a  young  girl  anyway.  still,  she  had  no  reason  to  believe  that  the  man  was  nefarious  in  any  way  &  she’d  never  been  one  for  caution.

❛   happy  to  make  your  aquaintance,  your  highness,  ❜   anastasiya  cast  him  a  bright  smile,  her  melancholy  all  but  forgot.  she  was  not  a  sad  soul,  &  it  was  rare  to  see  a  frown  on  her  fair  features.    ❛  brave  is  a  polite  word  for  foolish,  but  i  confess  that  it  is  the  latter.  the  night  air  holds  so  many  mysteries  &  i’m  captivated  by  them  all.  ❜