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EDEN JUST KNOWS SHE'S GOOD AT WHAT SHE DOES

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to say that eden is a cocky little bitch

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while azula goes mad with power, eden does not. she is quite happy to be a guard but when i mention fight scenes with eden, it's nothing light. eden was made to be a killing machine for ONE person.

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now why isn't azula in the inspirations?

honestly, eden would hate azula! but, when i say this girl has pyrokinesis, i'm talking like azula or zuko. i highly recommend watching this as a guide as to how eden uses her fire.

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Avatar The Last Airbender Azula and Ty Lee vs Sokka, Zuko and Suki

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literally the fourth wall king. also personalities are VERY similar here, except eden has a tendency to lean towards the villainous side more than anything. if there is one lady dimitrescu simp, it's eden. literally eden is the mascot of simps.

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it's the trope of guard falling in love with their queen/king. honestly, the angst apart of pearl doesn't match eden nor does the personalities mesh. just the idea of pearl helps.

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i REALLY like the bo burnham special. the way it's meant to be depressing but brought many happiness. it's very fourth wall, as well. having the watcher be personally aware that they are watching this on a screen is very eden.

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Bo Burnham: Inside (2021) Trailer |  Netflix Special

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due to a very wonderful writer and a friend of mine, she pointed out that a lycan event would almost be comical (her exact wording was VENUS. GUARD DOG ?????)

she has sharp canines and due to her cadou, is like. kinda beefy. she was MADE to be a super soldier almost. dog girl <3

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eden is a lot smarter than she comes off as. to those who see her patrolling outside of the castle, they fear her. she just DOESN'T look friendly, besides her short stature. her hair is constantly messy, her eyes are dead because she is an insomniac and she carries a sword on her hip. but to those who know her? she's a goofball. a nuisance, as well. but, she often plans out larger attacks for when large groups threaten the castle and plans them alone.

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she was MEANT to be greater than what she is. this is symbolic of what eden has gone through, trauma-wise. her parents were WONDERFUL, despite the fact she truly cannot remember them. but, due to the time period, she was forced onto things she couldn't control. if she were to be a lord, technically, she would be right after alcina.

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she has a cadou in her. what about that?

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she has a cadou in her. what about that?

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it's honestly very similar to the cadou that is within bela, cassandra and daniela. while it doesn't contain a mutated form, hers is one that is very powerful. when she dies, she does not crystallize. instead, her form bursts. quite literally. she'll burst into flames.

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well, eden is a VERY fourth wall character. hence the multiple POV changes and the occasional breaking of her into her own backstory.

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she works through her trauma not too well, but is able to help others with theirs.

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me vs begging everyone to ignore that it's on twitlonger.

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BARE YOUR TEETH, GUARD DOG.

( 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. )
( 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. )

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟒.

You are born with a sharp cry and soft coos around you. You have a head of dark hair matted down with blood, washed off by your father beneath the moonlight. You are a night baby and your parents sobbed over you -- a miracle. It was complicated for them to even have children, considering money was slowly becoming scarce but nothing meant more to them than having something that resembled such a harmonious marriage. Your mothers' hands tremble when she holds you as if you were made of porcelain. Your eyes close, having calmed down from your moments of screaming and shouting, something that was comforting for reasons you wouldn't understand until you're older. She pushes kisses into your dark hair, as your father is crouched over, a hand on her stomach. You radiate warmth, you radiate something that had not been had. . . "Eden," Your father softly whispers, "Eden." Your name is not complex, your name states what you are. And when your middle name is spoken -- you are destined to be beautiful. Destined to be something mortals have been rumored never to achieve.

𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐓,
𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃!

When Marinus van der Lubbe sets fire to the Reichstag, you are nine years old and scoffing at his incompetence while your parents fret. "We... We have to move," You can hear your mother and father talking in the garden, "Eden can't grow up here." You sit on the couch, trying to comprehend. Trying to understand, trying your hardest, but this is what you've grown up with. The lack of warmth in the coldest of winters, the few days where all you could eat was a few grapes. You're frail, you're frighteningly skinny. But, your whole neighborhood is. This is normalized... What weren't you understanding? And why were tears slipping down your cheeks when they argue in the garden they presumed as yours? And the next day was only worse, you find yourself hidden in your room while your parents are desperately trying to cling to their new reality. They had seen more than you, and they're praying you never have to see what they have, but they're not hopeful. You know they aren't, but you're a child. And when they come up to you, smiles of lies, you replicate it without a problem.

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄.

"Take this. Take this and leave, okay? Don't come back to Germany under any circumstances, young lady."
"Dad, I do-- come with me! Why aren't you coming with me?"
"...We can't."
"Don't make me leave, please."
"Eden."
"Dad?"
Your feet hurt against asphalt, you can't look back, you can't, you can't, you can't, but you are and you're sobbing, tears streaming down your face with the ticket clutched tightly in your hand and all you can do is stop against one brick wall to stare down at your boat ticket. It was four o'clock, you were leaving at 5:30. Your chest heaves, your body aches, god, you were starving. You were STARVING, a rabbit that was abused. "Is that fucking Jew?" Horror fills your body and when the middle-aged man grabs onto your wrist, you're frozen. Frozen in place, just like you were at home, "Filth. Take off your pants." Your face scrunches, you're only fifteen and you're shoving him away, but you're frail. His hand bruises your arm, bruises your jaw when he forces his tongue into your mouth. You want to puke into him, you're trembling. Your head is shoved against the brick, and when the blood pours, it doesn't stop. When your scream starts, it doesn't stop.
It's five o'clock when you're limping away, your legs burn, and your body aches -- your face bruised, your every single limb wanting to be detached and torn away. Your thighs are stained red, people stare and you're putting yourself on the boat. It's friendly, it's warm and all you can do is stare at the men. Stare at the pigs, and when one comes up to you, you bare your canines and scream like the animal you felt you were.

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒,
𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐑.
𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑.

Romania seems kind, it's cold but there is warmth. Things cost almost nothing, a rather large man by the name of 'Duke' helps you get off on your feet. Convinces a blonde woman, who you never met, to give you a little cottage near a dark estate, and a castle looms over. It's quiet, it's simple and the neighbors seem to like you when you manage to come out. Food is new, and when you bite into supple meat, your body violently shudders and you're puking, gasping for air, and writhing on wooden floors. Why did it feel like that? It made you want to scream and scream you did. A woman, by the name of... you don't remember. You can't remember. ( EDEN, WHERE ARE YOU? )
She cleans up your floor, helps you eat. Her eyes are kind when you eat her soup, it was gentle on your throat.
"I'm," She had such a buttery voice, "Who are you?"
"...Eden," Your voice is raw, grits compared to hers, "...Eden Catrionas."
"Well, Eden. You seem very kind. I'm right next door, okay? You come to me when you need anything."
And, come you do. In fact, you don't remember how you got there, but her lips and yours are chapped, dry. Her hands are finding the curves hidden beneath her dress, hers are tangled in the mop you have the audacity to call hair.
"I -- I was," You have to pull away, but your eyes can't seem to find hers, "assaulted--"
"--I got you, Eden. You're safe here."
Tears stream down your face, it was such a feeling you hadn't had, this... This was bliss. All the men in this village were old and married. They treated you like their own, but this woman... Women. Some supple, some thin as you were, some burly, some lean muscle... Sculptures, artwork, you decided when she only kisses you to reserve your comfort, such artwork that deserves to be french kissed.

𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐓,
𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃!
𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐃!

Your English has improved massively, as has your Romanian. A man has you help him with some lifting, your fear of men is dissipating every year that you spend here. Why would you ever move? He's older, around in his fifties. You help him carry boxes, a soft hum as you do so.
"Eden, right?"
"Absolutely, sir!"
"Say, you have these plants."
You're looking down at the pots shoved towards you... Plants. Just like the ones, your mother has grown and you realize how far this village has gone from reality. And with no tears, a bright smile on your face, you're accepting the gift and walking back to your cottage. You become a gardener, but you're not too good at it, really. ( NOT TOO GOOD AT ANYTHING.
What?
What was that? )
You're planting, and you become known as a helper. You helped a man start his fire, you helped a woman find her cat, you even helped this lady by the name of Bernadette. She seemed sweet, but there was a new woman.
One that you couldn't take your eyes off of.
Pin-curl hair. She didn't belong here, she belonged in Amerika-- oh, no, it was America. NO, IT WAS AMERIKA. ( NO, IT WASN'T. ) She's tall, and you have to turn away, rushing back to your place. You never caught her name, and you wouldn't. She seemed to... disappear after that. Eh, it didn't much matter to you. Your little block was all that you needed, all that you desired.

𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐒𝐎 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.

Your vision is blurry at best, your body aches. Where were you? ( Where AM I? )A woman, with golden jewelry, so golden that went the light hits it, you swear she is the sun. Her finger strokes your jaw, silence fills the room.
"Where--"
"Hush now. I have a gift for you."
You're staring at her, her eyes are so blue you could swear they were oceans. You aren't attracted to her, you're scared. You're frightened, the same way you were in that alley. The same way you were when Hitler went into power. And when the knife reveals red, you're screaming and bucking like the animal you are.
"LET ME GO!" You scream at her.
You're knocking out again, your last glimpse is her with a white cloth. ( YOU CAN'T FEEL ANYTHING. YOU CAN'T FEEL. BUT YOU ARE ADJUSTING TO WHAT SHE DID TO YOU. YOU ARE VIOLENTLY PULSATING, YOUR BODY IS WARM, YOUR BODY IS NOTHING BUT A VESSEL, SOMETHING THAT OTHER PEOPLE USE. )

and the village seemed so kind.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐉𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘,
𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐅 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍.

Her head pounds, as if waking from the worst of naps. A groan comes from her chest, spine cracking as she stretched.
"Finally, you're awake! You were out for quite some time, Eden." A blonde woman, representative of a plague doctor, towers over you.
"Mmh?" Her head tilts, brown locks coming in front of it.
"You don't remember me?" Her eyebrows furrow, "Really, that hurts. But, I am Mother Miranda, Eden. You took a nasty fall in Alcina's castle. You don't remember?"
"No," She slowly speaks, "Miss Miranda, I-- I have no recollection of... Alcina? Where the fuck am I?"
"In my lab," The woman speaks as if it were something she was supposed to know, it almost makes the woman on the bed feel guilty, "Come on, I'll get you back in your armor, how does that sound?" Her kindness. . . It seems genuine, and she's rising from the bed, grabbing onto the metal bar.
𝐻𝐼𝑆𝑆.
"Whoa -- I'm, uh," Eden sputters, yanking her hand away, "Sorry about that. Could you remind me... Of everything? I'm real lost."
"You're Alcina's personal guard," Miranda nods, "And you have pyrokinesis. Ability to manipulate fire, if you didn't remember that either. Really, it's no trouble, you forgot, that's all. Come along, child. Do you remember your name?"
"...Eden. Eden, right?" She's standing, and following Miranda as she begins to walk.
"You've got it," She hums, "You may have retrograde amnesia. I highly suggest relearning your abilities, I'm sure Alcina has her library stocked with guard books. You didn't seem to have weaponry or armory, so I'll replenish that as well."
"That's awfully kind of you," Eden nods, rubbing the back of her neck as they begin to walk outside. There is snow on the ground, but it evaporates under her foot. Could... she really do this before? NO, WAKE UP.
"I'm a giver," Miranda nods and there is a carriage, the Mother steps inside and Eden follows uselessly, "Truly, Alcina must be worried. We aren't too far, only ten minutes away with the carriage."
There is silence for the rest of the ride, Eden's head begins to ache. But, the carriage ride is rather smooth and calming, all the trees are... dead. Not just resting, but genuinely dead. Did death follow this village around...?
"We're here. Go inside and call for Alcina, but remember her title. Lady Dimitrescu. Tell her that Mother Miranda sent you back, and to give her a call immediately. Understood?" Miranda looks over as the carriage door opens, Eden's jaw is wordlessly open, a Castle was truly right in front of her...
"Yes, Ma'am." Her head gives a short nod and with a deep breath, the guard is walking away.
Her footsteps on the stone stairs, it truly could have been colder but it wasn't. The carriage is gone, and Eden is pushing open oak doors that should have been heavy but didn't feel like it.
"Uhh. . ." Eden paused. Admiring a painting of three beautiful ladies, "Lady Dimitrescu?"

𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑.

Holy shit. That is her first thought. Pale skin that illuminated in warm light, and Jesus, she's so tall, and Eden stands at 5'1, she has to duck through the doorframe and her cigarette is in her mouth, and (Is it just me? Y'know what? I wouldn't mind letting her burn that into me. ) Pin curled hair, a black hat covered most features, but there are crimson, crimson lips. She's silent, silent, and god, Eden has never felt her heart pound faster.
"Uhm, uh, hah," She looks down to the ground, "Mother... Mother Miranda sent me back. And you need to call her."
". . .Come with me," Her voice is dripping with something, and Eden feels her knees buckle, "I said, Come with me."
"Y-yes, Lady Dimitrescu!" She blurts and with her hands folded behind her back, she's following this tall woman.
Yeah, she's always been that hot, you nimrod.
Eden follows her up a flight of stairs, head down at all times. White satin drags on the red carpet, and she belongs in ... where? Not here, no, no, maybe here. She seems like a Queen and all Eden wants to do is serve her. Her hand reaches behind her and stops Eden,
"You stay outside." She orders the short woman and all the other can do is nod.
She doesn't listen to the conversation, standing perfectly straight. If she was a guard, she wasn't going to be making any silly mistakes. But, the groan that comes from the other side of the door makes Eden's cheekbones flush pink.
( Horny bastard. )
"Eden, darling," Her voice calls, "Come inside."
She follows her command, entering the room and remaining by the door. A gloved hand comes up and beckons her closer, and when she 𝑇𝑂𝑈𝐶𝐻𝐸𝑆 𝑀𝑌 𝐶𝐻𝐼𝑁, Eden can't think properly. She can barely breathe as it is, "Oh, my poor guard. I'm glad Mother fixed your cranium, but I'll have to retrain you on some things."
"Y--yes, ma'am. I understand my duties, ma'am."

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃.
𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒.

I stand outside her room every day, every night. I listen to the cries of her daughters for blood, and I have to shove their heads off of me. They're vultures, I swear -- but, they've got their sweet spots. Besides, every time they go to dig their claws into me, my Lady comes. That's what I've grown to call her, she seems rather content with that. How could I not make her content? It's what I was designed to do-- God was that a mess. I find the truth eventually, I find out everything. Fools think they can roam the Garden of Eden without lies and hallucinations, but really... They can't.
So, when I raise my sword to a man thing and he has fear in his eyes, I can feel her presence most profound. I can feel her leather hand upon my shoulder, I can hear her praises, I could pray to her. I should. And when it cuts clean through flesh and stains my armor, all I can do is take it off and call the vultures. They're licking at my discarded armor and glare at me when my sweat is there, I simply shrug and grab the head of the man. Looking to the top of the stairs, where my goddess lingers with a raised eyebrow. I raise the head,

"BABY! I GOT YOU A PRESENT!"
"Eden, what did I say about that 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 name?"

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TwitLonger - When you talk too much for Twitter

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( 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. ) ( 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. ) 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟒. You are born with a sharp cry and soft coos around you.