#The Hollow Crown AU

[nynevefromthelake]

So the medieval au that is also Hope!Hob au. Morpheus is a medieval king who suffers under the burden of his responsibilities, crumbling marriage and the loss of his only child. And when he is very close to give up he meets a mysterious stranger who brings a glimpse of hope to his life

And in the end Morpheus becomes immortal, they fake his death and travel together forever helping and inspiring people. And maybe Morpheus’s new personality is a bard named Dream

#sandman fanart #dreamling #sandman #hob gadling #dream of the endless #the sandman #Hope!hob #medieval au #Yes it’s the hollow crown references #and sent Sebastian is back

[smolvenger]

The Battle of Agincourt (Henry V/fem! Reader Oneshot)

Word Count: 7K

Summary: As his wife and queen, you follow your husband, Henry the Fifth to France for his battles. It is the morning of the battle of Agincourt, and you don't know if he will make it out alive. You spend one last moment of passion together.

Warnings: NSFW 18+ SMUT! SMUT! (We get TWO smut scenes in one onshot! P in V sex, missionary, doggy style, edging, medieval dirty talk, praise, slight degradation and edging breast play, degradation, bits of power play, doing the deed standing up-legit one of the filthiest things I've written in a long time!). Mentions of war and brief mention of sexual assault and death. Lots of angst, but also some fluff.

A/N: Based off of a dream I had. Enjoy!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract (you can just skip the wedding night and barn scene and you will be good, bestie) @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @infinitystoner@littlespaceyelf@superficialdomina @evelyn-kingsley @muddyorbsblr

You never forgot the day you were introduced to the man you loved.

You were sent there to the castle. An alliance between your father and the new king of England was being considered. Nothing confirmed, you were told by your father. Only consideration.

“He is a single man. And young. He needs more for his army, his lands…and that is secured with a marriage,” he told you.

 The one key to sealing it.

You.

A marriage between you and this king. Many men in his army sealed with one woman being brought to his bed. And it might be you.

 You had heard he was a wild boy, Harry Monmouth, Prince Hal. But everyone assured you that he had somehow matured. No sooner than his father died but he had been far calmer, more responsible. He spent his hours studying rather than drinking.

But you were still nervous. When the day arrived for this alliance to be discussed, your father asked you to dress in your best. Looking in the mirror as you squeezed your mother’s hand, you wondered; am I good enough for a king’s glance? Perhaps if you had more jewels and walked in with the richest silks like a shining diamond, then he would take note. Still, bedecked in your finery, you headed off and were greeted at the castle. You were stopped, awaiting the signal.

“If the king decides he would like to meet you…then be ready,” he warned.

It might not happen at all, you wondered.

You did hear voices outside the thick door. Seeping through. No doubt there would be advisors and other lords to talk to the king. But there was one voice-he sounded young, indeed. He had a resonant, powerful voice- rich and commanding. But smooth too. The sort to command a legion but could also whisper gentle words to his lover.

 As you stood, wondering how long you both could wait, the door opened, and you jumped.

“His Majesty, King Henry the Fifth, would like to meet you,” the servant announced.

Just for consideration. Nothing permanent. Not yet, you thought. You were grateful your dresses were long. They would hide your shaking legs. You nodded, remembering basic etiquette as you gripped your father’s arm.  

The door opened and you both walked inside, your steps echoing throughout the stone castle. You took in your surroundings despite the air in your lungs almost stopping. The high windows with the orange sunlight. The long candles for light. The weaving of Saint George on the back wall. A wooden throne with tall, stone steps. There, you saw your father. A few lords in the back-old men with scarves for hats and long cloaks.

And in the center of it, turning towards you, was a young man. A young man with a crown- Henry the Fifth. The young king.

Extremely handsome. A head full of his auburn curls, his small, neat beard. His blue eyes were soft when he looked at you and a red leather doublet framed his lean body well. There were chairs about and you were led to sit in a chair some distance away.

Your father and the king began to talk. Keeping an appropriate distance. But you couldn’t help but admire the handsome, young king. If he were just an ordinary man going down the street, you would have indulged in ogling him. But you could not, you felt yourself get warm as you kept your eyes demurely on the floor when he caught you watching. Their voices became murmurs. Then the king turned to you.  

“You are the Lady Y/N…” he began.

He gestured to you to rise from your chair, you gave him a curtsy.

“I am, your grace,” you replied.

He walked up closer. You could hear his footsteps. You made your own breath slower. You could feel yourself sweat like it was July in Italy. You forced your eyes down, feeling your shaking going to your hands.

“You need not be shy, my lady,” he said.

You then looked up. Eyes onto him.

“Could you take two steps closer, my lady?” he asked.

You did. He walked around you in a circle, seeing all of you. You let him, though your heart was roaring in your ears. Feeling his eyes all over his potential bride- you. Once he stepped out, completing his circle, your eyes met his. Perhaps that was bold, considering his position- your lord and sovereign of your country. But nothing in him deterred.

“Are you well?” he asked.

“Very well, your grace.” You replied.

Henry turned to your father, looking at him, but only taking a step back.

“Sir…you have not offered me some mortal woman…” he began.

You folded your hands and did your best to mask your dread. Oh no, was he about to Call you something bad? How would you endure the humiliation of being not only rejected but insulted by the king of England mere minutes of meeting him!? You would have to spend your life under a rock in the woods to save your dignity. You looked up to him with big eyes and felt your body brace itself. To hold in the tears and anger of such a moment with as much false calm as you could. Awaiting the blow of the king's insult.

But no blow arrived.

Henry then smiled, eyes turning between you and your father.

“Here before me is an angel from heaven! A woman too lovely for us mere men!” King Henry the Fifth announced.  

One did not recover from such a statement quickly. "Shock" was not quite the word fitting for how you felt. No, it was this. Utter and pure delighted surprise. Your breath quickened. You felt a smile grow on you. Your heart picked up again as he walked closer to you.

“Thank you, your grace…do you fear blasphemy from such words?” you asked.

“Not if it is the truth, just as scripture is,” he added with a wink.

Your mind went blank at his wink, his smile. Hot and your mind spinning. Your mouth kept running from the excitement. But still polite.

“You are generous, your grace.”

He went up to you.

“Could you…call me Henry? Or Harry? Hal, even?”

“I could…Henry,” you replied.

 You watched Henry turn to your father and shake his hand. The alliance went through. With a flourish, he signed the treaty and the agreement to marry you.

“Ah, my lucky little girl…now about to be queen of England!” your father would say later, kissing your cheek.

Henry (for now he was more than just the king, but your intended!) would often invite you to visit. Giving you tours of every room and corner of the castle.

“After all, it’s going to be your home!” he would claim.

Or, to the most shock of anyone, he would visit your home himself to see you. Fine dinners would be served, and he would sit by you as you sewed, smiling like a schoolboy just to be beside you.  

A chaperone was always present, but quiet in the back. A smiling shadow upon you two. Henry wrote you numerous letters and you wrote back to him when he was away. It was easier to like him the more he spent time with you. If not, be infatuated with him. Maybe even love him as the months to the wedding passed. He showered you with gifts and lovers’ tokens. Little ribbons and pieces of jewelry and belts and scraps of paper with love poetry.

The first time he held your hand, you thought you saw him tremble a little. His thumb went over the skin of yours. He was very soft- not pressing or squeezing your own. You felt as if you could float.

The first time he kissed you was the day before the wedding. You were both walking in the gardens. With the sun gentle and the flowers in bloom, it was just like a dream. Your chaperone was in the back, her arms folded before her. Then Henry stopped his steps and turned to you.

“Could I kiss you…on the lips, Y/N?” he asked, his eyes hopeful like a puppy.

You didn’t have the heart to say no. How fortunate that you wanted to. You felt yourself swallow hard and then nod your head.

“Yes,” you answered.

 He tipped your chin to meet him and kissed you. It was gentle.  Chaste, even. You felt his soft lips and nothing else.  But it was…loving. Your knees wobbled again. You felt the breath from his nose. He was so close. So, so close. He felt…good. He let go, the lips clicking as they retracted. Both of your eyes were still closed. When you opened, he relaxed and let out a smile. You opened your mouth a little but had no words.

“Your kiss has a power to it, Y/N,” he whispered.

“I will use them with caution, then,” you replied teasingly.

You then returned to wrapping an arm around his and continuing walking. Both you and your chaperone shared a look, giving an appreciative nod. Something was growing inside you for him. Something…more.  

 You couldn’t deny that Henry was the most handsome man you had ever lain eyes on. His broad back and his slender waist. His winning smile, large, gentle hands, cheekbones, tall height, soft blue eyes- all beautiful.

And desirable.

He was lean and strong-what did he look like beneath his leather and velvet? If you were honest with yourself, you couldn’t wait for your wedding…and your wedding night. You often indulged in secret glances at his codpiece and his behind whenever he turned around-his pants flattered him. And both sides were something to see. The beautiful curls- a mix of red and blonde that he combed back. You wondered what it would be like to touch. Even pull! That was from what you learned from others of what happened between a husband and wife before the big day. Henry’s beard made him look mature and dignified. Not some pranking, whooping boy- a man. A man who knew how to take care of a woman in bed.

Even among your tours of the castle, he never took you to your private chambers. But whenever you passed by the hall with those large, wooden doors right at the end of a small passageway, you couldn’t help but grin.

Already tingly and titillated at the thought of the night, you kept your smile when they dressed you on your wedding day. It was joyous. Your gown was made with the finest while silk with little pearl embellishments and a jeweled belt. No one would doubt you were Queen of England already. Your father led you out. When you were placed on Henry’s left at the door of the chapel, you could see his smile on you- already bedecked in red with his crown. The ceremony felt far too long. But you held yourself together like a giddy child on a festival. The mass and prayers came and went. Henry made his vows before an altar as did you. Then the priest made the sign of the cross over you two.

It was done. You were married to him now. The second the priest let his hand down, bells all over the city- no, not just the city, England itself it-chimed out. Flower petals were tossed your way as you both walked out through the city, presented to the people as a couple.

There were enough guests that it seemed like half the world’s population was there at the feast. Your friends and family, those you loved dearly, were invited.  A thankful distraction from your growing physical desire for your husband (to think! Henry was now your husband!!). They embraced you and wished “Y/N, oh much congrats!” to you. You never felt such beaming love from everyone you cared for as that day. You hugged and chatted and celebrated with the people you loved. Henry smiled at you and kissed your hand with such tenderness your heart could burst. The feast tasted sweet, and the music played even sweeter.

 The room became darker, and servants lit more candles. Guests were leaving. It was announced that there would be a bedding ceremony. It was finally time, you thought with trepidation. Musicians played songs as the party led you to Henry’s chambers through those stone halls. Henry was adorably nervous. You saw his hands twitch and when you brushed close to him. Oh, no doubt you were nervous too. Any rational person in your situation would be nervous. You considered yourself such. But you were also…excited. Ready.

You entered the bedroom. It was large. Fitting for the king. Once it was your father-in-law’s room- the late Henry the Fourth. Now it was your husband’s. It was full of lit candles with tall stained-glass windows, and a white stone floor with black squares. A large bed with a dark canopy full of gold-colored fleur-de-lys patterns, cream pillows, and thick, dark blankets.

Servants undressed you from that beautiful wedding dress. They undressed Henry too until both of you were in your shifts. You couldn’t help but notice how the collar peeked at a beautiful, broad chest-just open enough to see a peek. It seemed as beautiful as you imagined. It made more shivers of desire run through you. You were given a cup of spiced wine that you both sipped from. It felt as sacred as a Eucharist- he looked at you as you drank and as he drank. An offering of something shared-how now you would be joined as one. The bed was now an altar and lovemaking a rite.

 After the bishop blessed the bed, Henry dismissed every courtier. He thanked them for celebrating with him but insisted on privacy. They bowed and left. For the first time, you both were truly alone. He then turned to you.

“How are you, your Highness?” he asked, noting your new title, he took your hands, running a thumb over them.

“It was a long day…but a happy one. I’m a little tired…. but I’m well…,” you answered.

“I’m glad you are, Y/N…” he replied.

Smiling at him, You cupped his cheek and moved his arms to embrace you. He blinked in slight surprise.

“You can hold me…husband,” you said, relishing the taste of the word.

The most you did throughout your betrothal was hold hands. But he obliged and put his long arms around you. He smelled of wine and a bit of incense from the ceremony at the church. With his thumb, he gently traced your face.

“If Satan himself would look at you, he would weep and confess for forgiveness at once…Y/N, Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Yes- please kiss me,” you replied.

Then he kissed you. But you kept him there. Pressed against you. God’s blood, that beautiful man right near you, against you, on you- feeling his warmth, his body on yours. You wanted more. You then grabbed him and kept kissing him again and again. He felt so warm and soft…except for one part of him you could feel against you. And no codpiece to cover for it. You bit back a giggle at the new feeling, knowing that he really felt the same despite his wide eyes and blushing cheeks. And your body replied in turn. It was as if lightning was coursing through you.  It made you wetter than the sea. Preparing yourself for him.

Oh, and you were more than ready. And this was a perfect time for it. You grabbed onto him. Then began to lead him to the bed with a smile, walking up two little elevated steps that led to the bed strewn with flowers and ribbons for this night. For this moment. For this act. Then right before the bed, your fingers went to the strings of your shift on the collar that held it together-the only layer over you.

Henry’s jaw dropped a little, looking down and then back up to your face. Even if you saw an outline of his desire through his shift, his eyes grew wide.

“Y/N …are you…sure?” he asked.

You undid the tie, showing the valley of your cleavage. You felt his eyes flutter down then forced back up at yours.

“Henry…I want you to take me. Make love to me- make love to your wife tonight!” you insisted quietly.

“I did not wish to…to push you to…to…uh, consummate the marriage before you...you wanted to…” he replied meekly.

The most powerful man in the world and here he was at a loss of words. To think this was once the tavern boy caught with prostitutes!

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Henry…I want you…take me on your bed…you are my king….rule me and have me here then….” You whispered.

You led his hands to push the rest of your shift off. Leaving you bare before him. His eyes finally drank all of you in.

That was enough to persuade him.

He pushed you down and was on top of you.  Like an animal released from his cage, his kisses had a little more fire to them. His hands began to roam greedily over your body. Down your chest, feeling one of your breasts as he kissed you. Then down your stomach, over your hip bones- feeling each bit of you. He began to pant heavily, his eyes full of eager joy and a playful lust in his smile.

Then you helped to take off his shift. You nearly forgot to breathe at the sight of Henry’s naked body. His strong abdominals and arms. His large chest with a few black hairs. Of course, his own cock was so hard and large you bit back the urge to gasp at the sight of it.  You laid down on the bed, smiling at him.

“Please, Henry…I ache for you…” you urged. Splaying your body before him on his bed. Feeling like a siren. Only he was no hesitant prey.

He pulled himself over you, taking one hand of his to position your legs to open, shifting his weight on top of you.

“I always wondered what this night would be like…what it would be like the moment I saw you…” he whispered.

He looked at you, cupping your cheek. Seeking permission as he settled himself, his tip just at your entrance’s beginning.

“Henry…I’m ready…” you urged him.

Not wanting to keep you waiting any longer. Not able for himself to wait any longer. He then positioned himself. Slowly, he entered you. Inch by agonizing inch. You writhed beneath him, moaning as he got inside.

“Oh! Oh-oh God!” you cried. He was big. You could feel him creeping in deep, almost like your stomach could be penetrated from his largeness. You clung onto the sheets tight, and his own hand went over yours.

He himself let out a grunt when he finally shifted all his cock inside you. There was a little pain, but it fizzled out. You were full-and it was heavenly You held onto him. He pulled his hips back and began to slowly enter you again and again. You groaned with each delicious thrust of his.

“Yes…nrgh-my wife-you-gods-my wife-my sweet wife-“he whispered with each snap.

You opened your arms as well as your legs, holding onto him. He repeated your name again. Kissing you tenderly on the side of your head when he could. A mess of groans and kisses and praise was all the king could say. His arms stretching around to keep you in his embrace.

Then he used one hand and lifted your legs up to a new position- a little deeper. Your knees went up. You let out little cries with each slow, sloppy movement. Each welcome intrusion of him to your insides. You had never known pleasure as much as this.

“Yes…oh gods…Henry…Henry I…oh!” you breathed out.

Your head lay on those cream pillows. Soft as clouds. With the dark bed canopy and the roaring fire, the rain outside pattering the windows, there was never a lovelier, more peaceful night. His curls fell before his face. He kept at it- thrust, thrust, thrust. His shallow breathing above you, and the moans that escaped you that were far from maiden modesty.

 He held you. He gave you an open kiss as he thrust forward for one. He began to mutter more.

“Yes…nrgh- yes, -my little queen…doing so well…”

More little noises came out of you. And you heard his voice get only a little higher in pitch. And yet he continued, only barely picking up the pace. You wrapped your hands to him and ran one through the curls on his head- how soft they felt, like little auburn feathers.  How soft the bed was-a feathered mattress against your bare skin as it slide back and forth slowly against it with each snap of his kingly hips. Henry slowed one thrust but would give you a little kiss- your cheek, the side of your face.

“God’s blood-my wife-nrg-sweet wife-oh-yes-taking-taking me…”

He kept at it. Then he reached down. He found your entrance, the very beginning where your lips and walls. He talked softly in between thrusts.

“I’m…I’m close, and I think….I think you are too, my little wife- I…yes…come undone, come undone with me…”

 He reached inside and you gasped from the feeling. He found your bud, his finger curling with it, stroking it with each thrust. You let out another gasp. He smiled.

“Let go wife-nrgh-let it…let it-“

 He began to strum it. Then everything overwhelmed you. You were spinning higher and higher. His kisses and hands already felt your bud and with his playing. You felt yourself winding up, curling up inside. You shook so hard. You wondered if you were going to die from the overwhelm, from the rising feeling, the intensity. His thrusts picked up the pace, you felt it growing, growing, growing.

Then finally, something hit you so suddenly, so hard-your body clenching and releasing all at once you let out a loud cry as the sensation hit you like cold air.

“Ah!”

A last thrust, the king of England came undone and let out his own small shout of pleasure. Then he stopped his thrusts. He stayed inside you, letting his seed rope itself. Then he held you, held you tight as he came inside you. It seemed as if the world itself stopped.

 Once it was done, he pulled out but kept close to you. Caressing your cheek. Panting hard, his broad, strong chest rising with his breaths.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I feel…I’ve never felt so good, husband,” you replied with a giggle as you pulled him forward to wrap your arms and kiss him until both fell asleep.

He did turn out to be a good husband. Always listening, gentle, and enthusiastic about his role. He listened to your own advice and always took you seriously. He was aggressively faithful, shutting down even the idea of a mistress if any lord was foolish enough to suggest it. He spent time with you. There were so many times you would hold him to your chest and hum, playing with his curls. You learned from each other and challenged each other to do better each day. Be it in a game of chess or in court. He made you feel…safe. Wanted. Loved, even. Not to mention he was a passionate lover in bed. If your one duty was to bed the king, then being queen was quite a simple task indeed. And a duty you loved to fulfill again. And again. And again. And again.

You managed your own life as queen well. adapting and figuring it out. Attending parliament by his side.

You were sitting by him when the fateful day came. It was found out he had a claim to France. And the French ambassador mocked him by giving him the gift of a box full of tennis balls. Furious at the insult, Henry declared there and then he would begin an invasion of France.

 He’s going to leave. He’s going to be gone to war. And who knows how long, you thought sadly. You went to your chambers and began to sob. Then the next day, all were discussing logistics. You sat on your own throne, contemplating it all as they talked.

“Yes, my brother- John shall stay. He will lead…” Henry announced. “And by this day, we will gather the army and set sail for France.”

You couldn’t take it. You sat up at once.

“And I will go with you!” you insisted.

The men’s heads turned to you.

“What?!” cried one lord, stepping forward.

The advisors went around you.

“Your Highness…it is not safe!” advised another.

You walked forward, looking down at the table with the map on it. Then you looked at them and addressed them.

“My husband is a warrior. And when we were married, we were made one. This means I am a warrior too, in my own way. And where he goes, there I must go too- his battles are mine as well. Then I say- I will go with him!” you declared, slamming a firm hand on the table.

There was a second of silence. Then your husband took your hands.

“If we can make it safe for her, she will go with me,” he said.

You went off to France with him. You braved the rollicking ships. You both shared a little cot bed as the ship heaved back and forth at night. One night was a storm and the thunder surprised you so much in your bed, you clung to him. He only laughed a little, rubbing your back in comfort.

“It’s only the voice of God, my dove, He is on our side…and protecting you,” he assured, kissing your forehead.

It was not long before it arrived and the army began to set forth. You traveled through forests, riding your horse by your husband’s side through villages and countryside for entire days.  You were a little nervous being the only woman surrounded by men. But they knew how precious a queen you were to their Harry of England, their sovereign. If any of them dared to lay a hand on you, they knew they would face a quick and bloody end on their king’s sword. So, they kept respectful, always greeting you with bows and soft voices.  You would set up camp and then live in a tent rather than a palace.  Some hours you would give your own counsel as you stood by him for planning the army’s next move. When there was an attack, you were put in a safe place with many guards so none would dare hurt the king’s beloved. Other times, you would volunteer with the food or help with medical needs- helping with injuries, cooling warm foreheads with cloths. You saw this fiercer side already of him. He shouted bold, encouraging speeches as they went and attacked towns.

Though you scolded him for the speech he made to the Governor of a city called Harfleur. When they arrived, to your immense shock, Henry coldly threatened his army would pillage the town, set their infants on spikes, and ravish the village women. That was enough to persuade the governor to open the gates and peacefully let them go through without one shred of violence. But his words still rang and made you see red with anger.

You met him in your tent later, and he jumped at your frown. You crossed your arms.

“Henry- you dare to have your men do these unspeakable things to women! You know better! Have you considered I am a woman as well?! And that is our worst fear!”

“I only wished to scare him. I knew it would move him, my dear. And it does happen during wars…”

“You will not let that happen! You will not let the soldiers force themselves on civilian women-or I shall never speak to you, and you won’t be allowed in my chambers either! I’ll sleep in another tent and not allow you to lay a hand on me!” You chided.

It was a threat which, like his to the governor, worked well. He never made a spoke like that again. And you forgave him.

The many ups and downs.  The army was too depleted to move onto Paris so all of you went to Calais. You stopped and fled further realizing the French army was chasing everyone down. You arrived at the small town of Agincourt. The French army had now surrounded you. The Dauphin arrived one cold night. And it was decided-there would be a formal battle tomorrow.

Now here it was- a decisive battle. Only a small handful of soldiers could get a full night’s sleep and Henry himself stayed awake to talk to them. But in your tent, you tossed and turned in your makeshift bed under many blankets. You awoke and then fell again. Your worries had haunted you.

They were going to fight the Dauphin’s army. And the Dauphin’s men outnumbered Henry’s. Five French soldiers for every English.

You awoke shivering and dressed. You gathered your cloak for it was a cold day. Opening the flap of one tent, you saw him. Henry. A small distance away, kneeling in the grass. It was so early that the sky was still grey, the sun barely peeking. You could hear his prayer.

“Lord…strengthen my soldier’s hearts…I’ve made my repentance to Richard and his grave…. please strengthen them…and me…”

Five to one, your mind kept repeating to yourself. Five to one. Five to one.

You wondered at the white horse he brought with him. It was with the others chewing on grass in ignorance of what was about to happen. Why would your husband need it? It would be as if he was a target for their practice! A surefire way to signal this was the man to kill.

How fragile he seemed as he kept praying. He was human. Your husband’s mortality dawned on you. His racing heart could stop. His warm skin grow cold. And his shallow breaths of his anxious prayer would end and there would be none anymore. He dressed in a red doublet- red as the blood threatening to spill from him.

You approached him, noticing him making the sign of the cross to end the prayer. He turned his head to see you.

“How are you?” you asked.

“Only as well as I can be…” he asked.

He easily got up from the grass. Then he went over to a of his lords and guards already armored. He whispered something to them. Nodding, they turned back to camp. He then returned, his gloved hands taking yours.

“I’d…I’d like to spend some time with you…. before…before it starts,” he said.

“Of course, dear husband,” you answered with a smile.

Both of you walked into the woods. It was peaceful- you heard the leaves beneath your shoes and the birdsong. The rustling of trees and the mist as gentle as his kisses at your wedding.  Disguised in your cloaks, you could have been any ordinary pair of lovers wandering in the forest. Not a king and queen of a whole nation.

“Y/N…do you see that? In the valley?” he asked, pointing at a hand.

It was a barn and An old house. The house was abandoned and burned to where the walls were only halfway stood beside it. The barn was intact. He led you inside- the wood creaking and the wind whistling through it. There wasn’t one living life around. No horses. No pigs. Not even an ant.

“We’re a distance off…are we still safe?” you asked.

“It’s alright- you know the path- find the oak tree with mushrooms and keep walking north…Y/N, I asked the guards to leave us alone for a little. I wanted to…to be with you.”

There were no animals around, much less people.  Only you two. Even the sky itself seemed unreal. It was nothing but the grey light of dawn over a cloudy sky. So early, it felt cold. And it was misty and grey.

It was dark and musty in the barn. You saw a wooden bench and stables and troughs. But it was mostly hay- so much hay that there were still tall stalks around the barn.

He then turned to you and kissed you. He took you in his arms. He touched your face, and you realized a tear was rolling down your cheek.

“Y/N…I want this…if this is our last moment together…I….” he began.

He held you closer.

“Yes, Henry….”

He took a deep breath. Then kissed you again, only leaving a trail down your neck. Your heart picked up and you warmed up quickly. He then returned, cupping your face again and looking directly into your eyes, so close. So, there was only him.

“The camp is far off. They won’t disturb us. They won’t hear us. Y/N I… I…I love you….”

“I love you too,” you replied. You kissed him again. You shivered from feeling the cold. And the growing desperation on his face.

“I know this is not the most romantic place. This is not the most beautiful speech I can think of. But…I say it again because it is simple. It is true- I love you, Y/N. And should I die, I want you to know that…”

He paused. Then blinking back a couple tears, he continued.

“If…If this is the day, I’m killed…it is a prayer for you that will be my last word…I’m glad I met you. I’m glad I married you. I have so much shame, so much regret…but you- you were the best choice I made as king. To choose to marry you, love you…”

You cupped him and kissed him again. You felt him press against you. His hands went from your back to your sides. His gloves went up and began to bunch your skirt. Already, you felt yourself grow wet for him. Feeling the bit of cold air on your skin.

“The guards are away…the army is away…they’re far…my wife…please…. here…. love me one last time, lie with me here-so I can feel you-know it is like inside you, to feel your pleasure one more time…”

You grabbed onto him. Feeling his skin, his breathing in his body-his life. His fire.

“Yes…take me. Henry- use me now. I know you feel so much. Take it out. Take out everything on me…just love me…make love to me, husband. Strongly. Strongly as you feel,” you pleaded.

He gave a small smile, giving a last kiss with tongue. Tasting him. He pressed you close.

“You will?” he asked.

“I will,” you answered.

 Then he pushed you roughly and you and you landed with a small laugh against a haystack. One so high it was taller than yourself.   He then backed you to the haystalk in a second. His kisses on your neck had added teeth. He was leaving marks against the skin of your exposed neck.

“Do you like this, little wife?” he asked.

“I do!”

He chuckled lightly.

“Gods, you torment me. Each time you are there in my tent, every meeting you look at me and smile, I imagine you without your gown on. If could, I’d have you over that very table the second they left every meeting…”

Then, his hand turned to a grip. He grabbed onto you. You began to grind naturally against him. He gasped at the feeling but kept talking.

“Perhaps I could grab you and have you on the grass. And have every soldier who leered at you to watch. To have them watch as I take you like a beast. So, they know none of them can make you cum like I can.  Until your name is all you can say on your lips. So, they all know you are mine.”

He found the blouse of your dress. Desperately, he pulled down the overdress’s shoulders. With one tug, he undid the strap of the shift beneath and pulled it down. Your breasts exposed. He cupped and kissed it. He kept a hand, pinching your nipple as he went to your ear. Then he began to make more biting kisses on your neck You embraced him- touching what you could, kissing what you could.

“Henry…I love you, I love you…” you repeated.

“I love you, and be ready, little wife. You’ve wanted fire-now you have it.”

He lowered his mouth to kiss your breasts. Then he used teeth and tongue. He bit your breasts, licked your nipples, and then used his teeth. You began to moan. It was so loud, that you were grateful not even animals could hear you now.

Then he lightly tossed you around. Then he turned you around, pushing you so that you leaned over a wooden bench that was kept there. Your hands braced onto the wood. He then lifted your skirt up to your hips, your bum exposed to him. He gave you a small smack on your behind. You let out a cry.

“I remember your chiding at Harfleur. That’s what you get, little wife, when you disobey your king. You get punishment.”

He began to undo his pants with a quick click of his belt. He began to thrust into you there- hitting this new angle. It was so obscene; you couldn’t help but give into it. Your own filthy moans and his grunts right behind you.

“There-nrgh-yes-I-I-I-take you, like-like a whore-“

You were moving along, feeling your own body shake with each fast, deep thrust. You let out shouts as he got over. The spinning feeling, coiling in your belly, rising from the delicious degradation.

“Oh…oh gods-Henry-I’m-I’m going to-to cum, I’mgoingtocumI’m-“

Then he stopped. You heard his voice behind you.

“Not yet…. you won’t release yet. I’m not done,” he announced.

He turned you around. His large hands almost ripped off your cloak, and then your dress so it pulled down. If he could rip your dress to shreds, he would. But he only roughly put it all aside. You were fully naked, and he was still clothed. He smiled and licked his lips, his curls freed from his head.

“This- seeing this again- I would fight a hundred battles to see your bare breasts and feel your sweet warmth around my cock again.”

He picked you up. You held onto him. With one hand, he pulled down his pants as you held tighter. Released, his leaking tip is already teasing your entrance. Then he backed you up against the hay. He hooked your leg up to be around him. The hay was so high and sturdy that it held you up.

“My queen among people, but my whore in this barn.”

You gasped a little as he entered you. He was fast, desperate. His thrusts wild. He even freed one hand and slapped your breasts, and you let out a cry.

“How can I not touch these breasts? You make me too hard to even think in this army. Riding my horse when I want to use you like a mare beneath me.”

“Hen-Henry-I-I-“ the words left you.

Your breasts began to bounce with his movement obscenely. He grunted more like an animal. You wrapped your arms around his still-clothed shoulders, trying to keep up.

“I love-love-nrgh-you so much-gods-yes, I love you-nrgh-you’re all I could think about-yes-do you understand-ah!- how hard -yes- it is to speak diplomacy-nrgh- with the French when your cock is raging hard seeing your wife?”

He thrust into you again and your own voice was getting a little higher. Hard, rough, desperate.  The spinning, the rising was happening. You held onto him. Then one glove began to reach down and circle your clitoris, you gasped- letting it out. The hard leather on your wet folds, on your bud was going to break you. You heard his words. You bit on, to fight the rise, to not release yet. Hearing each thing he said.

“If I live- I Want you in my tent. On my bed, over the blankets. I want you naked -and I want your legs spread wide for me-so I can ravish you like this again when it’s done. Do that-do that for your king,”

“Yes, yes-I will!”

“I-I-am-nrgh-your king, am I?” he asked as he thrust.

“Y-yes! Yes, you are!”

“Who is your king?”

“Henry! Henry’s my king!”

He then continued at another violent, rougher pace. You wondered how much of this you could even take.

“I want to take you-nrgh- scream-nrgh-so all of France know who belongs to you-you-yes-NRGH- are mine-as-as as France as mine.”

He began to thrust harder. You gasped, as he kept at it.

“Oh-Oh my god-oh god- it’s-it’s happening-Henry I’m-I’m I’mI’mI’m-“

“Yes-Yes-you’re there, little whore-cum-cum for your king-cum for your king-cum for your king!”

Finally, you did too with a last scream. It echoed across to where the sound pattered through the woods. With a breathy, struggled shout he released as well. He kept thrusting, but slower. His hot speed shot forth and went inside you. Both of you panting wildly- you could see your chests heaving. He then held you, shaking a little as he caught his breath.

“Y/N….darling…thank you…I love you…so much…”

He kissed the side of your head as you nestled together. He kissed your cheek and his grip softened.

“Are you hurt?”

“No…I’m not…I have never felt better…” you said.

He helped you back up. Though you felt a little dizzy from the intensity. You could feel his seed inside you-dripping a little down your thighs. You wanted it to stay. Perhaps you would have a child from this and you would have to one day tell them they were conceived on the morn of a battle. Your legs shook. He picked up your discarded clothes and quickly helped you dress back into them. You combed you both wiped the hay off of both of you.

“That was…that was incredible…” you sighed as he clasped the cloak around you.

“And I must agree with you…” he replied.

You walked out soon. Still holding hands. He blushed bright red and there was a prance to his step. Confidence. Even if he was defeated, he would not go down easily. Not without a fight. The sun was now rising higher. The time was approaching. You watched as he was fitted back to his armor by his servants as you stood and watched. Exchanging small looks between you. But before he faced his men, he went back and gave you a passionate kiss. The deepest, and most loving kiss you ever felt him give you.

“Should anything happen to me- the Dauphin out of mercy he shall make sure you are safely brought home to England as an act of diplomacy. I made him promise. And the remaining soldiers will guard you, as well as my uncle.”

“But if…nothing happens to you…” you asked hopefully.

“Then…you remember your promise…” he said with a grin.

“I will see you in our tent…”

He smiled, then he went down and kissed your hand. Tears in his eyes.

“I never knew one soul like yours. Your courage, your kind heart, your wisdom…the greatest of all queens in all nations, and if I had my choice of every woman, it would still be you…”

You embraced him a last time.

“I love you, Y/N. And you will always be loved by me. Thank you…thank you for everything…”

“I love you too, Henry…”

Sharing a brief last kiss on your forehead, he went on his white horse. You felt tears streaming down your face. Then off he went with his men to battle. You never felt prouder of him. Though you felt yourself crying, you were smiling as well. Proud of your king. Your lover. Your husband.

#smut #tom hiddleston smut #carrie writes #the hollow crown #prince hal #henry v #prince hal x you #prince hal x reader #prince hal x fem! reader #prince hal x y/n #prince hal x fem! y/n #henry v x y/n #henry v x fem! y/n #henry v x you #arranged marriage au #medieval au #historical au #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston characters #fluff #historic fiction #history #tom hiddleston characters fluff #prince hal smut #henry v smut #the holllow crown smut #tom hiddleston characters smut #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fanfiction

[tabubranku]

I wanted something unusual)

#loki #loki fanart #loki layfeson #loki series #hollow crown #henry 5 #henry v #marvel #the avengers #fanart #digiral art #crossover #loki marvel #AU #mcu #tom hiddleston #loki odinson #I like how dark Loki and light Henry look together #I LOVE this red cape

[secondjulia]

Hob Gadling's First Execution

WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE

“He was begging,” Dream said. Mud squelched all around them, but he and Death made no sound as they walked over the already bloodied field. “I heard it.”

“He was begging to live, you idiot!” Death said.

“How do you know?” Dream looked at Hob Gadling, kneeling before a hoard of soldiers. His hair and beard were coated in blood. 

“He’s writhing away from the man with the axe, not towards him!”

“The specifics were unclear. His lips seem to be leaking, his words were obstructed. And there is only one logical thing to hope for in this scenario.”

Death shook her head. It had barely been a decade since they’d visited the White Horse, and Dream had repeatedly pointed out — as if she could have failed to notice — that the world had only become a less appealing and more brutal place to live.

“But look at him!” Dream said. “Such misery, my sister! Surely he wishes for his torment to be over.”

“This is his torment.” Death said. “And he wishes, I am quite certain, to avoid it entirely.”

She sighed, her eyes running over the line of men on their knees in the mud, hands bound. A few met her eyes with a glimmer of hope. One beamed broadly, even as he shook and panted, blood running down his face. Hob Gadling did not look over. Though he had squirmed when they were first dragged out to the field where the masked man waited to end their short, brutal lives, he was now still. His gaze didn’t scan the assembled crowd for support or mercy but looked defiantly ahead.

“But how could any sensible creature wish to continue to live in a world such as this?” Dream asked.

“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t,” Death said. “None of them do. Not in a world such as this. It doesn’t mean they don’t want to live.”

“Hm.” Dream nodded toward the man who had beamed at Death. “That one likes this world. He still dreams of the glory he may yet achieve through his sacrifice. He would continue on, dying a thousand deaths for his lord if he were allowed.”

“See?” Death smile kindly at the doomed man. “Some sensible creatures have found a way to embrace their reality.”

“I would not call that sensible.”

Death gave Dream a sad smile that said she knew very well his callousness was mostly an act. 

Dream knew each and every one of these kneeling men. He had witnessed their final nightmares and bestowed, where he could, more comforting dreams. It was a balance that took a careful hand — something Dream had had to cultivate more and more as civilizations grew. Waking from a lovely dream only to face the executioner could be a torture, while waking from the horrors of night to face the end of torments could be a relief. Forbidden as he was from interfering in the lives of mortals beyond his own dominion, Dream did his best with the powers he had.

And to others — those who would walk away from this field — he gave harsher visions so that they might not forget the blood they shed. He hoped that one day the horror of such practices would impel their end.

Though he was still certain that the next few minutes would prove him right, Dream felt no pleasure. Parts of him would die today. Each of the men kneeling in the mud had lived rich lives within his realm. One who had dreamed of glory now only hoped for a swift end. Another only wished for heat as the chill rain soaked through his tunic and dripped from his hair. Several held friendly faces and warm hands in their daydreams. Others’ minds had gone blank with fear, all thought and creation already stolen from them. Their dreams would die today, and those parts of Dream, too.

Hob Gadling had slept little these last few days. Dream had busied himself with others, honorably not wanting to act in any way that would push his wager with Death one way or another. But now, Hob’s mind was unignorably full and active, daydreams spinning out, vivid and loud. He dreamed of—

Dream turned from the sight immediately. 

His own face looked out of the daydreams of Hob Gadling.

“You are ready, my sister?” Dream asked, trying to cover his surprise.

She nodded. “This century’s looking to be nearly as busy as the last.”

As a soldier walked toward Hob, Dream forced himself to watch. He never enjoyed seeing his sister’s work, especially not when it began like this. Humanity had always been prone to fits of violence, but in its growing civilizations, their capacity to enact horror had exploded. Still, Dream had not expected to feel so sick at the sight.

#

Relief and fear gripped Hob in equal measure as the man strode forward to seize him first. He’d’ve preferred to die in battle, sword in hand, but at least this would be over soon.

Let us meet here again, Robert Gadling…

A slight smile brushed his lips. At least the voice he’d heard a thousand times out of memory, held closely in his heart, would accompany him to his end.

…in this tavern of the White Horse, in one hundred years.

“Forgive me, lord,” Hob murmured. “I shall not make our meeting.” 

The pretty face shone in his mind as clearly as if he’d last seen it yesterday. His slender, black-clad stranger, the scarlet jewel hung over his chest no match in glamor for those petal pink lips dressed with a mocking smile. Oh, how Hob had wished to meet him again when they were both ancient and put a different expression on that lovely face!

Hob had been lucky. He was not yet old, but he’d made it longer than most. All his mates who’d laughed so heartily at his boasts all those years ago had gone to their graves, wounded or worn down, their laughter long gone. But Hob still felt like his brash, young self, defiant in the face of death. He even looked young. His body had held up remarkably well through years of battle and banditry and plague creeping back through England, and, honestly, he felt that he could have held up many more decades — if not forever.

But now his luck had run out.

Hob looked up defiantly at the enemy who had condemned him. He couldn’t even remember now why they’d been trying to kill each other. The political machinations behind the throne were too distant, and Hob didn’t care. A moment later, he was forced to his belly, pushed down onto hard stone, his face hanging over the river’s edge. He was not important enough for his head to be set on a pike, frightening others away from his treacherous deeds. He was a simple soldier, a common mercenary, just unlucky enough to take a coin for services rendered on the wrong side of the battlefield, — to be swept out of the way with the fall of the axe more for convenience than political statement. Hob’s mortal remains would fall into the river like waste. 

He had not even been given the curtesy of a blindfold. 

Hob shut his eyes. In the darkness at the end of his life, he looked into a moon-pale face with storm grey eyes. He ignored the final flashes of the life he’d led up until then, regretting only that he would never meet his pretty lord again. 

Then agony shattered all thought. 

Hob was falling. 

Seconds swelled to years. 

Warm drops that must have been his own heart’s blood splashed onto his face before the river tumbled him into itself and he was drowning, still feeling the gaping wound at the base of his skull. 

Then cold, wet, darkness.

#

Hob woke, thrashing in pain. 

He gasped and cried out as the air scraped over raw flesh. He flailed out with both hands and the soft mud was like hot stones against his skin. He flopped like a fish on the river bank, naked, every inch of him scorched with a pain beyond even the most brutal interrogator’s imaginings.

For a long time, Hob just writhed and cried.

#

Death had too much work to linger, but Dream had followed the severed head as it floated down the river. The body of Hob Gadling had been tossed unceremoniously into a pit with a dozen others. Dream knew that the life force that kept the foolish man alive would spring from the brain, though he still severely doubted whether there could possibly be any desire for such a life. Dream had seen uncountable last-second horrors of decapitated victims and knew the pain must be unimaginable, if (usually) brief. Now, he sat hidden in a grove of willows a little ways away from where Hob had washed up and waited for the begging to begin. 

Death would not be too busy to return with her mercy.

#

Hob lay curled on the muddy river bank for a long time before he could really look down at the body that had, through some magic, appeared under his neck. It was tender as a fresh cut all over, but it looked like him. Slightly soft with hair over the chest and legs. Bound with the soldier’s muscles he’d had since he was a young man. The only difference Hob could see was that fresh skin had grown where old scars had once been. He hadn’t gotten any scars since his early thirties — not since around the time he’d seen his stranger in the White Horse.

His stranger!

“Oh you beautiful devil!” Hob’s voice was hoarse and it pained him severely to speak. But still, he laughed. “My wonderful, blessed stranger!”

In one hundred years!

He hadn’t just been challenging Hob to live. This wizard or saint or devil must have made it so!

“Oh my stranger, my beautiful lord!” Hob called out. His head tilted back to the heavens. But then he looked around, uncertain if that’s where his mysterious benefactor’s power had come from. He pressed his forehead into the mud, bowing to whatever unseen force had saved him. “If your hand were Satan’s own I’d kiss it!”

As soon as the words left him, he bit his lip — a sharp, torturous pain that made tears spring to his eyes. Hob sat up and looked around swiftly. Even in his glee, a thrill of fear ran through him. He didn’t wish to find out what it was like to be burned alive for consorting with the devil.

“From this day forward,” Hob murmured, his head bowed, “when I pray my Lord, it is to you I pray. Ever after, when I speak of thanks and mercy and forgiveness and glory, it is to you I speak. In your name, lord, though I do not have it. Thank you!”

#

Dream watched, dumbfounded, as Hob Gadling pushed himself up and limped naked down the river bank, grinning like an idiot. 

Regretting the time away from his duties, Dream shook his head and turned away. He would be right eventually. This day had only served to vividly remind him him of the acute horror of this world. And Hob still had ninety years left to endure before their next meeting. 

Dream was patient.

#I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ONE WORD ABOUT ORPHEUS #This is the AU called Things Work How I Want Them To #Ferdie Friday #Ferdinand Kingsley #Sandman #Dream of the Endless #Death of the Endless #The Hollow Crown #Richard II #Spoiler Alert I guess #I mean this story came out like four hundred years ago so I feel like the Statute of Limitations on Spoilers has expired #I really didn't realize how much the first one looks like he's calling Henry Bolingbroke YOU BITCH and I think it's totally appropriate

[shitfuck-anon]

Just wanted to draw ghost murder God... That all..

#hollow knight game #hollow knight fanart #hollow knight art #hollow knight radiance #hollow knight ghost #hollow knight vessel #hollow knight godhome #hollow knight #hk radiance #hk ghost #hk vessel #hk art #hk fanart #Ghost kills god because they wanted to wear the crown #he wanted to become the light #since he was the dark #I like to interpret it as ghost wanted to be the light then being the dark #hollow knight au

[eletainart]

...His hands were shaking as they came up to grasp Hob´s arms, half expecting them still to simply go through him but no, they met solid mass, soft silk warmed by the heat of the human body. “You are alive…you live,” he whispered, voice trembling the same way his body did. Fingers slipped down the soft fabric of Hob´s sleeves until he touched his hands, taking them into his own as if the other would disappear if he didn't hold onto him strong enough. There was an expression of pure confusion on Hob´s face at first, one that quickly mixed with worry. “Alive? Of course I am alive, why wouldn't I—oh… oh, my dear Morpheus, what have they told you?” The sight of the King on his knees, clutching his hands like a lost child, tears in the corners of his reddened eyes, that was a sight that could break hearts and Hob´s was certainly breaking. ... So what that I am over here illustrating my own fic? I wanted to XD Please enjoy and if you´re interested, check out the fic here

#dream of the endless #morpheus #hob gadling #Dream x Hob #dreamling #medieval au #fic illustration #The Sandman #angsty medieval boys #i art and write #my art #artists on tumblr #all thank the Hollow Crown for their clothes #that show gave me so many good references

[high-functioning-lokipath]

Okay, fic requests are open are here is my chance. Could we get a short fic or headcanon about my boy, Prince Hal from The Hollow Crown courting someone shy? Especially since he’s known as the rowdy bad boy prince in the Eastcheap taverns! Thank you!

So sorry this took a while to get done, darling! I hope it's not too OOC or whatever...I hope you enjoy it! 🥰🥰🥰🥰

This night, as on many nights, Hal finds himself in the Eastcheap taverns, surrounded by quite the crowd of onlookers and so-called friends. But this night he notices something different. Or rather, someone. Blending into the background of the crowd is a young woman. She keeps her head down, not drawing much attention to herself as she cleans up after the patrons of the tavern. He notices that occasionally she glances their way, meeting his eyes a few times but never lingering in his gaze. As any cocky, self-assured Prince would do, he saunters over to her, his head held high, puffing out his chest a little, with a charming smirk painted on his lips. 

"Good even, fair maiden," Hal says, leaning onto the table she is cleaning. "I saw your gaze settling on our party. Is there someone you've taken an interest to?"

The girl blushes brightly, shaking her head and avoiding eye contact. "Fear not, Prince, I have no intentions of intruding."

"You would refuse the chance to socialize with royalty?" He asks with surprise. 

"I," She starts, pausing briefly. "I do not care to spend time in crowds." She picks up her tray and stands in front of him, trying to pass, keeping her head down as usual. "If I may, my prince, I must continue with my duties." Hal lets her pass, she gives him a quick curtsy as a thank you, and he's smitten. 

Hal cannot get the mysterious girl off his mind. His first thought is that he must have her. But as he thinks more and more about her, he realizes he really wants to learn about her. He'd never really met anyone who was 'shy'. He was intrigued. Not to mention how beautiful she was in his eyes. 

But every time he went with his usual crowd, she avoided him. He would catch a glimpse of her across the room and before he could reach her, she'd disappeared. Finally, he caught her. "Let me court you," He says, staring into her eyes.

"What?" She yells, drawing attention to them. She turns away, hiding her face from him. "Why would you want to do that? You don't even know my name!" 

"What is it?" He asks. She hesitates, but finally sighs in relent.

"Y/N," She says. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to court you." 

"I swear to you on the kingship my intentions are pure," Hal replies.

"Your intentions are to get under every girls' ski-"

"Y/N!" The tavern owner yells, rushing out to them. "My prince! I must apologize for her statements! She-"

"It's alright," He replies with a chuckle. "She was, after all, only stating the truth. However, I promise it does not apply to this situation."

Y/N looks nervously between Hal and her boss. "I," She starts, wringing her hands nervously. "I'll consider it." 

"As you wish," Hal replies, bowing to her. "I shall return in 3 days to hear your decision." With that, Hal departs, leaving Y/N both excited and confused. 

Over the next few days, Y/N thinks about the prince's proposition. She doesn't mind the difference in their social status. It's how much she would be in the public that bothers her. Ultimately, she decides it would be best to go with it for the sake of the Prince’s reputation. She hopes the people will look up to him more if he actually starts to shape up. And she decides it’s worth the risk of her personal comfort to gain that. 

True to his word, three days later Hal returns to the taverns. The expression on his face and his demeanor are far milder than Y/N is accustomed to seeing him. She smiles at him and curtsies. "Hello, my prince," She says. 

"Fair maiden," Hal greets, giving her a small bow. "Have you made your decision?"

"Yes, I have,'' she replies. "I will accept your offer."

Hal smiles brightly, overjoyed at her agreement. "If you wish to accompany me right now, I have my chariot waiting outside and a picnic basket with more delicious delicacies than you could ever imagine."

Y/N looks at her boss, who gives her an encouraging nod, and quickly discards her dirty work apron to join him. "I apologize for my appearance," She says, "I wasn't expecting our first date to be so soon."

“You needn't worry or apologize. It will just be us today and one of my servants to chaperone us.” Y/N is relieved that there will be no public appearances today. She takes the arm he graciously held out to her and follows him outside. He instructs the driver to take them to one of the nearby mountainsides where there is a grassy spot that overlooks the city. 

The two set up their picnic and Y/N has a hard time holding herself back from devouring all the food offered to her. “Are you enjoying yourself?” Hal ask was a knowing smirk. 

“Yes, my prince. Thank you,” she replies. 

“Please call me Hal.” 

“I wouldn't want to show any disrespect,” Y/N protests.

“I assure you. There will be no disrespect. After all, if we are to ever marry, you should get to know me. Not just my title.” 

Y/N blushes rightly and nods. “I suppose that is wise-” She causes for a moment, smiling up at him. “Hal.”

The meal continues with easy, flowing conversation. Simple topics to get to know each other. Although Hal does ask more questions than Y/N does as he is a far more public figure, and there is much already known about him. There was a brief lull in the conversation before Y/N finally gathered enough courage to ask a question knawing on her mind. “Hal, are you truly happy?” She asks. “You always come to the taverns laughing and merry." Y/N pauses briefly, looking over the city. "But I can't help wondering if that joy extends inside the four walls of the castle."

Hal sighs deeply. "You are a far wiser woman than anyone, including myself, would expect. Not many, no one really, would recognize, much less dare to ask, of my unhappiness inside the castle walls." He reaches out and takes her hand in his. "I will not lie to you. Life is difficult. Perhaps not as difficult as the life you've had to live, but it is not without problems. I only hope that my company will be enough for you if you, one day, accept the invitation to marry me.”

Y/N nods, her lips pursed in thought. “I do not see yet why that wouldn't be the case. Certainly, a wife would make things easier for you as well.” Before either can say a word more, the chaperone walks up, clearing his throat. 

“M’lord, pardon the intrusion but you will be needed back at the castle before the twilight hours set in. Hal gives a curt nod to the man dismissing him.

“I apologize, my dear, but unfortunately duty calls,” Hal says apologetically.

“When will I see you again?” Y/N asks. 

“I would like to see you a few more times before our courtship is announced to my people. Would three days more time be inappropriate?”

"I do not see why," She replies, smiling brightly. "I will see you then, my prince." She blushes, giggling lightly. "Hal," she adds after a beat. He takes her back to the taverns where she somewhat embarrassedly explains that she lives in one of the back rooms. 

Little by little, over their next few dates, Y/N finds herself falling more and more for the handsome prince. She is surprised by his kind, caring demeanor with her in private and finds herself unable to hold back a blush when he becomes protective of her in front of others, even before their courtship is announced. There are rumors, not just in the castle, but among all the people of their tryst. She knows that with anyone there will be rumors for Hal and does her best to bear up under the nasty ones. 

A few months later, Y/N finds herself nervously pacing in one of the meeting chambers. Hal has shown her many of the castle's lovely libraries, gardens, and other rooms over the past few months. She has met some of the royal family as well as the palace staff. They all love her and find her to be a refreshing change of companionship for the Prince. Even the people have noticed his more mature behavior. His visits to the tavern have decreased to only a few times in a month with his friends, although he comes more often to see Y/N. 

"Do you need anything, miss?" One of the servants asks, poking her head into the room. 

"Please call me Y/N. And no, I do not require anything at the moment."

"You'll be just fine," the young girl assures her. "The people love you. I know the prince does," She says, quietly. 

As if he had heard his name called, the prince himself walks in. The young girl gives him a curtsy before scurrying away to finish her other duties. The king also comes in after Hal. 

"The people are gathered," The king announces. "We shall make the announcement now." He walks out to the balcony, addressing the people. 

"Are you all right?" Hal asks her. He takes her hands in his kissing the backs of each. 

"I'll be alright," She assures him. "As long as you're by my side."

He nods, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand soothingly. "I am so sorry we even have to make such a public appearance. I know you do not care for them but it will not be long. I promise."

Y/N nods, her nerves getting the best of her voice. They hear the king announcing their names and Hal straightens, keeping her hand in his. "Here we go," He tells her as the two walk out onto the balcony. 

Hushed whispers float over the crowd. “Silence!” The king commands. He makes a formal announcement but to Y/N it is nothing but noise. Her heart pounds in her ears and she can’t stop herself from beginning to tremble. Hal squeezes her hand and it grounds her somewhat as she tries to focus on him. Y/N looks up with wide scared eyes. Hal looks towards his father who is still speaking to the people and gives Y/N a pained, sympathetic expression. They must stay there until the king is done speaking. 

Thankfully, the king's speech is short and Hal is able to whisk Y/N off to one of the palace libraries. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Y/N cries, tears streaming down her face as she clutches Hal's shirt, holding herself close to him. He wraps his arms around her, swaying softly as she leans on him. 

“My love, there is nothing to apologize for. I should have asked my father to make our appearance even shorter.” 

“But Hal, how am I supposed to be your queen if I cannot even face the people for a moment?” Y/N exclaims.

“You will be a strong, silent example for them,” He assures her. “They will look up to you.”

As the months of their courtship pass, Y/N slowly becomes accustomed to some public appearances although each one is still a struggle for her. Hal dotes on her lovingly, always staying by her side when an appearance is necessary, taking her back to the privacy of a library or his room when he can, as soon as he can. He'll hold her, soothe her, sing to her, read to her as she calms down from the difficult experience. 

Even when she is not with Hal, he's found ways to take care of her because she's now well known by the people. Some will come up to her at the market to talk with her or to ask her questions. For moments like those, Hal gave her a bracelet beaded with different shapes and textures so she can distract herself with them while she finds a way out of the conversation. 

He also assigned guards to watch over her at all times. Keeping a distance so as not to overwhelm her, but close enough to intervene if anyone tries to force their attention upon her. The guards are sworn into strict confidence should she have and panic attack of any sort, so that there would be no embarrassment. And as often as possible Hal keeps their dates private or in less public areas.

Eventually, the day comes the prince must make his decision regarding a wife. Hal takes Y/N back to the grassy overlook, where they had their first date. “My dear, I know this lifestyle isn't easy for you, and if you do not wish to continue in it, I understand and will not hold it against you in any way. But I must make an announcement. It would be my greatest honor to say that you will be my wife, but I will not force it upon you if this is not what you wish for. 

Y/N nods, a small smile spreading over her face. “You're right, it isn’t easy. But there is nothing more that I would wish for. I love you, Hal,  and I never want to spend another day away from you.”

Hal cannot hold back the excited whoop that escapes his lips, standing quickly and picking Y/N up in his arms, spinning her around. “You have made me the happiest man on earth. The announcement will take place at the ball this week. Will you accompany me?” In all their months of courting, Y/N has never been to a royal ball. Hal has protected her from such an event knowing it would take every ounce of courage she has. 

Y/N takes a deep breath. “I will accompany you, my prince.” 

“I will begin making the preparations as soon as we get back to the castle,” he replies, grinning from ear to ear. “You will have the finest dress, the sweetest perfume, and I shall assign a made to stay with you at all times in case we are separated during the ball. You needn’t worry over anything. If you must leave early, I will instruct the guards to take you to one of the libraries and notify me of where you are. I will try to stay with you but I cannot promise I will be able to. Often at these balls, I must mingle with dignitaries and others to keep up good relations.

“I understand, Hal, I understand. I appreciate everything you do for me. Never doubt that.”

The night of the ball finally arrives. “Hal, is the whole kingdom here?” Y/N asks nervously, hearing the loud conversations already from outside the ballroom.

“There are many people here. If you don’t-”

“I want to, Hal,” Y/N interrupts. “Just,” She takes a deep breath. “Give me a moment?”

“Of course,” He says, holding her hands in his. She closes her eyes, squeezing his hands. Once she opens her eyes she glances at the guards and her maid with them before looking back at Hal and smiling. 

“I’m ready.” Hal takes her arm and nods to the herald to announce them. When they walk in, Y/N forces a smile and tries to focus her gaze away from the people before her. 

“I know it is not custom,” Hal begins. “But I wish to make my announcement now.” All in attendance instantly quiet, their attention focused strictly on the prince and the woman on his arm. "In three weeks time I shall be married and you will have a new princess. I have chosen Y/N as my wife. She will be a fine example for all, even from the background. But most importantly, she has my heart."

The entire crowd cheers, many of them raising their glasses in a toast. "To Princess Y/N!" Hal smiles brightly at his fiance, leading her down to the floor for the traditional engagement dance. 

"Are you alright?" He asks her as the music begins, dancing her around the now clear floor. 

"I think so," She replies nervously. She's grateful for the people's acceptance but Y/N can feel the eyes of everyone focused on her. The dance usually lasts for the full length of the song but Hal notices her growing discomfort. She makes the mistake of glancing around, confirming the fact that everyone is watching. She grips Hal's hand even tighter, her breath coming in quick short gasps. 

"I welcome all to join us in dance!" Hal calls out. Everyone then turns to dancing or going about their visiting. As quickly as he can without being noticed, Hal dances Y/N towards one of the doorways and pulls her out to the empty hall.

“But Hal!” Y/N exclaims, trying to go back into the hall. “You need to be in there!”

“I need to be with you and you need to not be in there,” Hal says, holding her shoulders. Y/N’s eyes well up with tears and she hugs him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder.

“Oh thank you, Hal,” She cries, the tears now spilling over and dampening his clothes. He kisses her cheek softly and leads her to the library where they can sit. He gathers her into his lap, sitting on one of the sofas.

“Would you like me to read to you?” He asks, grabbing the nearest book. Y/N nods softly and Hal hums, kissing her forehead. He begins reading and soon she drifts off to sleep. 

“M’lord,” A guard says, entering the room. Hal quickly hushes him and the guard quietly apologizes. “The king wants you back at the ball.”

“Let my father know that I am taking care of my fiance tonight. I will not be returning to the ball.” The guard nods and leaves the room. Y/N stirs in Hal’s arms and he smiles down at her. “Hello sleeping beauty,” He whispers. 

“Hal? Why didn’t you go back?” She asks, sitting up. He chuckles, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“Because I’m with you,” He replies, smiling.

“But what will your father say? You’re the prince! You need to be there!”

“I need to be with you! You’re my priority. You will be from now on and forever.” 

“But-”

“The only thing that matters to me is you,” Hal assures her. Y/N gasps, a quiet sob escaping her lips. She hugs Hal tightly, burying her face in his neck.

“I love you, Hal. Thank you.”

“No, my dear, thank you,” Hal whispers. “For everything.”

TAG ME IN EVERYTHING

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#follower request #requests #hal #the hollow crown #henry #tom hiddleston #hal x reader #the hollow crown reader insert #Shakespeare based #shakespeare AU

[daily-new-vessel]

Ok now that the area is clear, why don't we see what the green crown can do?

#Cult of the Lamb #Leshy’s crown #cotl #cotl au #new vessel #hollow knight #hollow knight oc #The New Guests

[unheavenlycreatures]

this is for my Hollow Knight AU where PK is Not A Good Parent but also does not create the Dead Baby Pit or the Giant Child Cage so he just has a lot of kids and puts a lot of pressure on his oldest to be the Perfect Heir to the Crown (which also comes with being immensely fashionable because i said so)

#hollow knight #hk #thk #the hollow knight #pure vessel #art tag #hollow knight au #heir to the crown au #will i touch this idea again? #no #was this an excuse to draw hollow in pretty clothing? #yes #i haven't drawn in ages

[andyzaffqueer]

Hiddlesworth AU: HALRIC “Slave”

Pairing: Eric the Huntsman (Chris Hemsworth from Snow White and the Huntsman) & Hal, the Prince (Tom Hiddleston from Hollow Crown)

I’ll draw more fanarts of this couple :)

#prince hal #hal eric #halric #hal and eric #eric huntsman #Eric The Huntsman #chris eric #tom hal #hollow crown #hiddlesworth #hiddlesworth au #ship every fucking hiddlesworth AU couple

[smolvenger]

Arise Fair Sun (Henry V x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Word Count: 3K

Fandom: The Hollow Crown

Summary: One night, Henry appears under your balcony to confess his feelings to you.

Warnings: None, just a lot of fluff! I guess brief mentions of sex.

A/N: This was inspired by @theartofimagining13's small post that can be found here! A lot of it was taken from the Balcony Scene from Romeo and Juliet (and no tragic ending in my fic, hooray!), bc I'm a basic bitch who genuinely loves that play, do not @ me. Enjoy!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @infinitystoner@littlespaceyelf@superficialdomina @muddyorbsblr

“Y/N, a marriage to the Earl of Warwick shall be a wonderful match and you must consider it!” your father said at dinnertime.

You felt as if the roast chicken you had just eaten was curdling in your stomach. Though it was a warm summer night, you became very cold. You saw stars in the fields of your vision from the shock. The words were thunder to your ears- loud and shocking and bursting from nowhere.

You did meet the Earl of Warwick a few times. He was a handsome man, though he was older. Not elderly, but close to your father’s age to where they were friends. Often, they attended events and court with the king himself there. Just yesterday, he was there with you at a ball, hosted by the king himself. He had long since been widowed. Now it seemed he was open for a replacement.

Though you did dance with the handsome young king, Henry the Fifth. His eyes were piercing but his face had a gentle smile on you. You were sure he was not betrothed to any princess. At least not yet. The times you spoke with him and attended events with him, he did speak to you. And he was so…so…

No, it was impossible.

“Father…am I…am I betrothed to the earl?” you asked, still dazed at it.

To think, you were already set for a marriage without your knowledge! Yes, you knew it would happen eventually. You never thought it would happen now!  Your fingers curled into the table’s wood as if it could support you.

“No, I will tell you, you are not. At least, not yet! He is only interested in courtship first…then we can consider a betrothal,” your father replied. He wiped off the sauce of the meal from his mouth.

Your mother turned to you.

“But the earl seeks you as his lady love. And you shall consider him, shall you?” your mother encouraged.

You blinked rapidly.

“I…I will consider it,” you answered.

“Then, we will invite him to dinner and if this continues further, a marriage for you will finally be settled. Isn’t’ that wonderful?” your father asked with a smile.

You nodded politely, despite the racing of your heart. You reached for your goblet of wine and took a sip, resisting the urge to gulp it down to calm your shock.

Not that he wouldn’t be a good husband to any wife. But…in the depth of your heart, you wanted to marry out of love. Like with….with….

No, that was impossible. Don’t dwell on him, you urged yourself.

This was it. Done and done-at this rate, you would have to start signing your letters as Lady Warwick.

That night, you were troubled. You found it hard to relax to sleep. The stifling heat on the blankets on a summer evening didn’t help. You knew marriage was never for love, but for duty and diplomacy. Love was only for knights who pined for already married women. And even that was never to be except for all the yearning and sighing. And you didn’t think of yourself as worthy of a knight’s adoration either.

You put on a white shift and a pink robe over should a servant run nearby. You went out of your room to go out to the balcony outside.  It was a lovely night. The moon was up in the sky, full and round and white. Stars were sprinkled as light as sugar dust over the ebony sky of midnight. It ran over the back of the house where you could peek over the wall that surrounded the house. Right below was the garden where trees grew so tall their leaves could kiss your fingertips. And even though you could only smell the garden and never touch it, vines and flowers blossoming from them bedecked the balcony wall. Moonlight glowed over it all, giving it a shine making it seem more ethereal.

You leaned onto the balcony railing, putting a hand against your cheek. You let out a deep sigh, just enjoying it and the sounds of the crickets of this summer night. It was cooler now with a breeze that made you shiver a little. It was as if the world sighed down with you. Crickets and owls sang their music.

Then you heard the distant whinny of a horse. Your head turned, jumping from its suddenness. Did one break from the stable? You walked up the walkway to where you could peek over the wall and saw that there was a white horse on the other side. A horse you did not recognize!

Zounds-a burglar!?

You ran down to where you saw the garden. You noticed a figure in the dark with a dark cloak running forward. Your heart raced with panic. As you lowered your jaw to let out a scream and alert someone, the hood lowered.

“Don’t be afraid, my lady!” cried a familiar voice.

Out came a head full of auburn curls and a handsome, ivory face with a goatee. And you fought the urge to let out another yelp. Of all the men on God’s creation who could be down there-fie! It was the king of England, Henry! The panic ran its cold lightning down your body.

“Your grace!” you said out of surprise, dipping into a bow out of habit.

You returned up. How beautiful his curls and skin shone against the moonlight. There was a faint glow caught in his high cheekbones. He wore a dark cloak and gloves over his red doublet, its color bleeding out between the folds of the cloak.

He placed his hands out in peace and walked forward to where you stood over. The most powerful man on earth but here he seemed so little. He looked up at you like you were a giant. Like you could squash him between your thumb and forefinger.

“What brings your majesty here and why? Without your guards? No one to protect you?” you asked.

“I do not need nor want them here. Here, my dear lady… I come here under the cloak of night-she hides and protects me.”

You began to clutch the railing of the balcony, leaning over.

“How did you get in here?” you asked.

He let out a smile that made your insides wriggle in excitement.

“I climbed over the walls-I was always quite good at climbing,” Henry said.

Peeking over, you noticed how tall they were. You forgot he was young and spry, even if he was royalty. He had the energy and strength to get over a tall wall. You turned down to look at him.

“You…didn’t answer my first question. Why are you here?” you asked.

He folded his gloved hands, looking up. His brows furrowed and his shoulders began to raise.

“I spoke with your father today-and he was making a boast that concerned me…are you betrothed?” he asked.

You felt your eyes go wide. You shook your head.

“No…no I am not. The earl of Warwick is interested in me. But no, there’s no betrothal. Not yet,” you told him.

Henry let out a deep breath and loosened his shoulders.

“I am relieved…” he commented.

“What…what do you mean, Henry?” you asked, swallowing.

You saw him smile as you said his name.

“The night brought me here…and Love.”

The air stilled around you, and the earth stopped as he spoke. His own jaw trembled and though his voice was soft, you heard him clearly. Reality surpassing your dreams.

“Love gave me wings and urged me forward…and here, in this garden tonight, I am not a king who can only speak in declarations and laws and propriety. Here, there are no eyes watching us. I can speak to you honestly. I can speak to you as a man. As a man who loves you.”

You were almost dizzy. Processing it. You held onto the railing to keep your legs from knocking.

“You…you love me?” you repeated.

“Y/N…I…I wanted to give you a speech. Recite poetry and verses. But your eyes make me turn red. The sight of you and I am speechless. I cannot say a word from the fullness and longing of my heart. So I speak plain- I love you, Y/N. And that I will not be ashamed to say aloud. Not anymore.”

You then eyed the tree right next to where you stood.

“Can you climb up here…can you talk to me there…”

He then moved to the wall before yours. Easily, he pulled himself up the trees. With the grace of a dancer, he moved up and through until he went to the branch right before where you stood.   He caught his breath from the exertion, holding onto the branch to support him.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

“I have never felt better as I did.”

“Then come forward, Henry-I don’t want you to fall!” you cried.

He walked down the branch, making himself steady. You reached out a hand-touching his leather gloves, and helped him on. Though you paused when you realized- you were in the intimate position of an embrace. He didn’t let go. You didn’t want him to.

“Well-this is better, my lady…” he remarked, with a naughty twinkle in his eye.

“At this point in the poems, many men call their ladies the moon….a few call their women the sun…That should give you a hint of what to say…” you teased.

Henry glanced up at the sky, he then returned to you with a smile.

“Then…then you are the stars, Y/N. The light of this night…perhaps this does make you the sun. The sun itself is a star and all go about come alive when they rise. So should the world come to life when I see you. There were times I wished…I wished I was a mere insect in this house, Y/N.”

“An insect?” you repeated with a small laugh.

You saw Henry turn pink and both of you dipped your heads into laughter again, then he continued.

“I envy each bug. Each small crook and mouse that can go in. That can lay eyes to you, hear you speak and laugh and sing and whisper. I would trade my crown to be them. For they can look at you and hear you all the time, but Harry of England cannot.”

You never thought your smile would grow as big as it currently did. He removed his gloves and set them on the railing. Then you took your hands in each other. A touch of bare skin upon bare skin. He twined your fingers between yours. He held your hand so smoothly, a great treasure. Worth more than anything he materially possessed.

“I don’t know who would get more in trouble if my father arrived. If it would be you at the sight of a man so near me, or if he would get in trouble and be exiled by the king of England!”

Smiling and bursting into laughter-how easily you could speak to and laugh with this man. The pure joy that tingled inside you when he was near!

“I won’t exile him…at least, not too long,” he said with a wink that made you flutter in your insides.

“I love you. No other embellishments- I love you. It is like you haunt me, Y/N. There were times I’ve wondered if I’ve only dreamed about you. Then I feel the itch of my clothes or the scratch in my throat and I could cry with bliss. For it means you are real.”

You began to tear up with happiness.

“I had to tell you how I felt. Before you were sold off forever. Before you followed your father’s wishes.”

“Couldn’t you command him?” you questioned.

“When I was not sure if you liked me?! And have you hate me all for forcing your hand? I couldn’t!  I had to be sure how you felt about me! And I wanted you to…to like me. Like me a little. I had to tell you my feelings before we had to say nothing for all eternity. Before a loveless marriage was forced on me too. I wanted it to be genuine- nothing of crowns and laws and power. Only my own heart beating fast when I see you smile at me.I…”

He paused. His mouth dropping to a gentle frown.

“Y/N…How do you feel about me?” he asked.

You felt yourself warm up.

“For someone who insists he is plain of speech…you are pretty with your words…and I like them, Henry- I do. And I like you. And I…I love you too…”

Giving in, you embraced him. He cupped your cheek and kissed you. Fire engulfed you as you leaned in. You felt his hot breath from his nose against your face. You could have stayed there forever in his arms. You reached up a hand to run through his hair as you kissed again. He pressed further and your body was shot. You were so drunk on love, on his touch.

Fie, the great trouble that would land you! Both of you-more you than him! And in fact…

You pulled from the kiss.

“Henry…you come here with honorable intentions-that of marriage, do you?” you asked.

He shook his curly head.

“My lady, no- I come here with no thoughts of anything vile but only with the sweetest, purest sentiments. I swear on myself!” he promised.

“Oh, good! I’ve heard of men saying things to women to seduce them…I’m glad.”

You went up to cup his cheek. He leaned into it, kissing the palm of your hand. His eyes as bright and shining to rival the moon. Then he took both his hands to touch yours. You sat on the railing, and he knelt down to talk to you, his voice and eyes earnest.

“Y/N, I am relieved you love me as I love you. As you are a bright gem to me, a sweet pet. But I come here not because I wish to possess you- only to stay by your side. I was crowned king of a nation but here, I am only your humble servant!”

“Then…could you kiss me again?” you asked.

“Yes.”

He wrapped his arms around you. He began to repeat your name as he laid a kiss on each of your cheeks, then your neck and lips as you melted into laughter from his arms. He kept murmuring sweet nothings into your ear as he held you, nuzzling you close.

“The sweetest, dearest name…loveliest, most precious of women….”

Both of you let go. How warm he felt compared to the chill of the night.

“Then…then you will speak to my father. Tell him you are interested in me. Insist on yourself as a suitor with intentions on marriage,” you urged him.

“Yes! Yes I shall!” he agreed, nodding.

There were footsteps from inside. The air stopped in your lungs and both of you fled to a shadow. But seeing that no one approached, you let out a sigh of relief.

“To think…we have to go…there might be some to hear you…” you mused sadly.

“I can’t remember how much delight I’ve had in this hour since my tavern days…to think we could be caught-the thrill of it!”

“Henry…we should exchange tokens of love.”

Both of you plucked the flowers growing on one side against the balcony. He gave you one. You gave him one. He tucked his own flower, a large, bright pink blossom, into his doublet. He put on his gloves in the strands of his belt for security.

“Here….symbols of us. To remember each other…” you said.

He said, tilting your chin up to his. You touched his arm gently and smiled.

“Henry, when you talk to father-come here. You could see me tomorrow…I’ll put my ears against the door when you talk to Father! I doubt he could refuse the king of England as a son in law and his daughter a…a…”

The word, in your disbelief, went to a mere whisper of your voice. The idea gripping you.

“a…a queen.”

“And what a queen you shall make!”

He took his hands on you and lifted you up in an embrace to where your feet didn’t touch the ground. He twirled you around. You let out a small shriek in spite of yourself, despite the risk from the surprise.

He kissed you again on the lips. The man was insatiable for you, but you would not complain about it.

“I’ve never been…been this happy…I am not sure if I want to leave…”

“Well then…you must…you don’t want my parents to suspect anything. And servants like to talk- wouldn’t you provide some interesting gossip for them,” you sighed.

“I could brave them all if I had to. But if I must…”

He held your hand as he began to climb out to the tree branch. Your own arm reached out, holding his. Just enough so that you still felt secure on your balcony.

“I will see you on the morrow, when the sun rises and all of dawn and day shall behold your face where it will stand by mine soon for all eternity…” Henry said.

“And I cannot wait until then…” you replied.

You held onto him until only the bits of your fingers touched. To memorize his skin. His feel. He then climbed down the tree. then you let go. Your own hand holding onto air. Feeling the ghost of his touch as he had to use both of his hands to climb down. Then you released it as well. Watching him vanish.

You blew him a kiss and he caught it, putting it to his lips. He bounded across the gardens. Then he crawled up and over the wall-and his cape did seem like a birds wings in the night. You ran over to the other side of the balcony wall to watch the last of him. You saw him on his white horse, like a maiden’s sweet dream. With a last smile, a smile of promise, he kicked his heels against his horse and rode off into the night until the whiteness of the steed was a mere speck.

You missed him already. But you told yourself, it wouldn’t be long now. Just a few more hours. And you would be reunited. Bound to never part forever.

#the hollow crown #prince hal #henry v #prince hal x you #prince hal x reader #prince hal x fem! reader #prince hal x y/n #prince hal x fem! y/n #henry v x y/n #henry v x fem! y/n #henry v x you #arranged marriage au #medieval au #historical au #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston characters #carrie writes #fluff #historic fiction #history #tom hiddleston characters fluff #smut #prince hal smut #henry v smut #the holllow crown smut #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston characters smut #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fanfiction

[quietparanoiac]

Part of the splendid DarkStarStudios Secret Santa 2022! Check out the whole playlist here.

#fanvid #fanvideo #Tom Hiddleston #Claire Foy #multicrossover #crossover #AU #period drama #perioddramaedit #periodedits #The Hollow Crown #Wolf Hall #Return to Cranford #Little Dorrit 2008 #Crimson Peak #Going Postal #The Essex Serpent #The Electrical Life of Louis Wain #The Gathering Storm 2002 #Upstairs Downstairs 2010 #my videos

[rosietrace]

Eclair adopts Briar AU: Family Dynamics

(Briar Auroria belongs to @phoenix-manga )

_________________________________________

𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫, 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

Having known each other prior to the adoption, Briar and Eclair's relationship only continued to flourish after the awkward tension of the trial

Usually refers to her as "Mother"

I'd imagine that Briar unintentionally called Eclair "Mother" by pure instinct before the adoption even happened

Regular tea sessions in order for Briar to settle down from all the stress she could be having

Briar admits that she always saw Eclair as a mother figure, more so than she ever did with Eletha

Eclair's ready to say some... Not-so-child-friendly words to those who still talk down on Briar, even after knowing how much she's been through

When it comes to noble gatherings where the family has to come together, Eclair always has a hand on Briar's shoulder as a form of security and assurance

Any nightmares Briar has? Eclair's willing to listen to whatever she wants to say and has sleeping herbs that'll help her ease up when sleeping

Honestly, Eclair already knew Briar's food preferences (as she had told her prior to her possible transfer to Scepter Hall) and made sure the food during lunch was to her liking

Due to Eclair's favoritism (that she never admits), If Briar attended SHI, she'd have a 30 minute late pass during class hours

Meryl, Stepsister

They already acted like siblings before the adoption, so honestly their bind just grows stronger

Meryl calls her "Bree" because it reminded her of when they first met, and she didn't know how to properly pronounce "Briar"

Meryl's probably the reason Briar's late to class(if she attended SHI) because MAN, she's good at messing with Briar's head regarding time when playing tag

Has been scolded by Briar and Eclair multiple times for swearing

However Alison was the one who ended up influencing Meryl

Always eats the cookies during tea time. It's basically her equivalent to scones

Someone's trying to hit on Briar? Well, they'll need to get through her SISTER first >:^

And by that, I mean Meryl just manipulates the suitor by being absolutely fucking adorable

At some point, Meryl tried befriending Aurus, but her attempts never worked because of Aurus and the way he was raised

Malory Khione, Stepfather (?)

Honestly? Briar never knew Malory personally

The only things she knew of him was the fact that he's Meryl's father, and was Eclair's husband by proxy. And maybe a few offhanded facts, but that's honestly it

She never really chooses to ask Eclair about him since she's aware how much it hurts her to remember the disappearance of her husband

Briar also felt bad for the fact that Malory went missing right before Meryl was manifested by Eclair's wish, knowing full well that Meryl would never be able to meet her father(... Or will she?)

She makes sure to be especially respectful in Forêt Gelée since it's the only dorm that's had their original founder up until the modern ages until Malory's disappearance. Leading the next dorm head to be Clark

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #scepter hall institute #scepter hall institute oc #shi headcanons #briar auroria #twst fanschool #eclair hollow #meryl anita hollow #malory khione #eclair x malory #eclair adopts briar au #diamond crown academy oc #dca oc

[cyncerity]

@dragonkween13

GUITAR AXE-

Technically this is in the doodle dump I posted (Jack is wielding it (him?) in one of the photos) but here’s Wil in more detail 💖

#also the axe is like a guitar body #it’s hollow and such one end is just sharp #also there is a handle about where the strings and pegs start because grabbing strings would hurt #cyncerity #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #cyn art #bet on the crown au #still tired or I’d be answering asks with more words but I SWEAR I’ll be less busy soon <3

[omens-for-ophelia]

"There is a love I reminisce, like a seed I've never sown...

...I wonder how it is I miss, these things I've never known."

'The Stranger' -Lang Leav

just another new AU idea I've had that will not leave me be ☠️

Book collector and conservator Aziraphale Fell comes across piles of old diaries and love letters all written by one A.J Crowley over 200 years earlier about a mysterious 'angel' - and it isn't long before he is feeling things that go far beyond just intellectual curiousity. But he can't be in love with someone who died centuries ago, can he?

(If you're interested in what the writing overlayed says, I've popped it below the cut ❤️)

the diary entry over top says (roughly)

"The house is almost complete, my angel. If only you were here to see it, and if only I were brave enough to tell you that it is all for you - all of it, every brick, board and nail is for you. I am hollowed and shattered by this longing. The soft look on your face when our fingers brush haunts me. Your smile when my palm grasps your own is a revelation. Does your pulse quicken in those delicate wrists, in those rare moments I am near? Can it torment you as it torments me? My every thought is turned your way, and with barely a touch you have crowned me a king among lovesick fools."

tagging my sweeties as always @ineffabildaddy @foolishlovers

#good omens #good omens au #aziraphale #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #crowley #good omens fanart #gomens #ineffable partners #ophelia-draws #letters au

[getodrools]

𐙚 CHEATING BUT PASSING: CHOSO KAMO!

IN WHICH, virgin! choso is more than willing to do all of your assignments as long as he can keep his grimy — incel freak hands on you.

I 𝓲. I MDNI ୨୧ f! reader. college au. dry humping + panty fucking manipulation. he whimpers :(. premature ejaculation. cumshot. mentions of: gojo x reader. | WC –> 1.0k+ est ! !

NOTE. this is a repost from my old blog !! :p

CHOSO ALWAYS THINKS THIS is a win-win situation—of some sort. being able to clasp clammy hands to your sides and to rut shamelessly against you; as long as he did your jujutsu tech assessments, first. but even as he does work hard on your own homework, he still gets to hang out with a pretty, popular girl like you.

so, win-win.

“c–choso, wait! i-- slow down—hey! be careful.” you sigh heavily before blowing messy hair out from your face, trying to stay calm as the man behind you fumbled around with your skirt to pull over the globes of your perk ass.

feeling warm breath, “pretty… so pretty… ” choso lays all ten lithe fingers across your ass before squeezing at the jiggly flesh into a vice grip—dammned he would leave an outline of his print, jagged nails too, feeling them cut the shape of crescents into your soft skin. gross.

“i know, just… take it easy.” without having to see that cherry kissed face of his, you know he unconsciously nodded, frantically too.

you still felt him groping and molding your ass around in his hold regardless though. that hollow promise was quickly thrown out the window.

especially, when choso catches the view of your soiled, cute little panties; a damp, dark spot circling around your sopping slit, almost drooling down the thick of your thigh.

choso could feel his heart jump up his throat and bounce straight down to his cock, feeling himself beginning to swell then get harder – it hurt too at the sudden ache panging between his legs, but this pretty sight of you bent over and…

turned on..? by him? was certainly etching a core memory into his brain.

his slick tongue runs over dry lips, “are you—”

“i just got back from gojo’s. you're not special.” you wiggle your ass upwards in hopes he would just get on with it… and the distraction works, hearing him suck in a breath of air through gritted teeth at the remark but quick with his hands.

soft cloth from the crotch of his pants presses hard against your body. choso jerks his hips upwards – his cock practically beating through his brutal confines, almost bursting through the buckle as he jutted against you hopelessly, searching for a rhythm…

choso’s head cranes back, lolling off to the side as he held you close while bending his knees, almost buckling to get a better angle to press more firmly against your clothed cunt. wriggling his own hips to feel more of that warm wetness seeping through, but through thick clothes like his own was a restriction, a brutal one at that.

“can... can i take off my pants and—”

“cum on any of my clothes, i will kill you.” that's all he needed to hear, being quick with it too; clasping his buckle and letting his pants crinkle to the floor.

the sauntering man quickly curled long fingers around the base of his cock; gripping a firm grasp to stroke his length hard with a slight twist to his tip – watching how the uncut skin glides over and swipes away the pearls of drooling pre as he did.

and you sat there, impatiently tinkering with the charms on your phone – ‘till the hefty feel of a nudging cock prods at your panties.

the sensation of his bulbous crown kissing your clothed slit was new… to say the least as he felt on you, sliding the hardness of his warm pulsing cock up and down your panties. even between the globes of your ass, and squeezing them together to suffocate his shaft.

this was new—actually, feeling choso’s length caress against the folds of your cunt was altogether, new. it brought a new sort of imagery from him to come flooding; fuck, he's big… and a lot more than you expected—damn, something no one would expect.

pure chastity. his cock wasn't just thick in size, but overwhelmingly big, practically feeling the pulsing veins wrapping around his base beat at every feathery touch.

maybe… he was special…

scratch that, choso let out a soft… whimper?

total loser.

this is the closest he's been near pussy—ever. and it was so obvious the first time you brought up this deal with him; the shock on his face was almost paralyzing, practically stuttering even through heavy breaths of confusion. but luckily, choso—of course, bought it. and ever since, he's been a feen to even do extra credit work for you even when it's not needed – too hooked up on the thought of humping your body every time he gets you an a+…

the fabric softener you used helped his cock smooth easier across the cloth.

so soothing, he thinks, while frothing over your body that bounces along with his. watching how the curvature of your spine arches into a deep bow, and how your hips fill in nicely into his hands, even how your puffy lips pressed through your panties, practically kissing and sandwiching his cock every time he slid himself over was mouth-watering.

yet, this was still the same thing you've both been doing for a very long while now, just fewer clothes…

oh?

your eyes peel open wide, pretty head even spinning around like an owl at the foreign feel of choso pressing the crown of his cock harder against your clothed cunt; almost pressing your panties inside of you at the rough thrust forward.

“heh, are you trying to actually fuck me?” you want to giggle. the soft lewd expression drooling over his face was adorable. his mouth left hanging agape, eyes hooded and set low, even his nose crinkled up at the suctioning feel wrapping around his blushing tip.

“euuh, i--” he’s trying so hard to mutter out words, but only incoherent babbles spew out – all thoughts and focus were set on this new feeling. practically, fucking you with a condom—a heart-lacey condom of thin cloth…

“you wish.” you roll your eyes and make yourself more comfortable; settling your tummy on the desk in your dorm and wriggle your ass up more for him.

choso takes this chance to wisp the tips of his fingers to hook around your sides harder to help stable himself from buckling as he watched with greedy eyes; entranced how he's practically fucking you. choso was trying so hard to push himself deeper, but the restricting panties blanketing around him as he attempted, forces his hips back in a ache.

it tickled – for you, the fabric of your own soiled garments tease at your gummy walls at each frantic thrust choso barrels into you with. this new, almost fuck was intriguing… and pathetic how hard he was trying to feel more of you.

catching your bottom lip between your teeth, you hear his breathing become heavier. it was cracking into whines as he was losing it from this enticing reality.

choso’s hands grip hard around your sides – bruising too as he felt his balls tightening. his hips were beginning to stutter, legs almost buckling. he reached a certain limit to rut harder—desperately, feeling a sudden rush shoot up his spine.

he lets out another, final whimper.

“ah!-- what did i tell you!” the warmth of a puddle of creamy cum spurts right against your clothed slit, almost oozing through your panties and seeping between your folds from the hard press of his hips trying to shove himself as deep as he could.

it was a lot. warm too. choso popped his heavy knot of spunk right on you, and in no shame, his head rolls to his chest with squeezing eyes.

“get… gojo to buy you some new clothes then…”

<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE CHOSO –>

#🌐 𝐿𝒜𝒱𝐼𝐼 𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒯𝐸𝒮! #ᝰ choso kamo! #choso kamo #choso #choso x reader #jjk choso #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #choso smut