#court jester's dress moment

[jestroer]

I fulfilled my duty to the people

#i drew doc in a dress twice but only now in the maid dress #after the decked out stream and doc holding doccy to the mic while wearing the maid dress skin you know #i knew what i had to do #docm77 #doccy #hermitcraft #court jester's art #court jester's dress moment

[barbieaemond]

Lykirī

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

WARNINGS: loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), handjob, we ride him bitches, dom/sub tones if you squint

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

Author's note: an early Christmas gift for those who celebrate!! For those who don't, just a regular smutty piece. This was based on a request where wife!reader rides Aemond. Merry Aemondmas :)

MASTERLIST

taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @arcielee

"You are to marry the King's second son. Prince Aemond Targaryen."

Those were your father's words. Your sister had looked at you almost with pity and a hint of relief since that fate had befallen you and not her. You had simply nodded, accepting the fate decided by your father, just as thousands of other daughters before and after you would have done.

Your mother had come to comb your hair before going to bed, and without much ado, she had told you what would happen after the wedding, after the banquet.

"All you have to do is try to relax your nerves, and I promise it will be less painful.”

The thought had stuck in your brain until the wedding day. And the aura emanating from the prince didn't help. He was stoic to the point of looking like a statue, his posture rigid as a spindle, and there was something unsettling about him that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand when he took your hand to recite the wedding vows. Fear, but also a foreign giddiness prickling your skin upon feeling his calloused fingers around yours.

The banquet had not helped either. Prince Aegon had behaved like a court jester, drinking to the point of wondering how he could stand upright, poking his brother with cruel jokes about his eye and a whore who had made Aemond a man many years before.

You didn’t know what kind of unpleasant memories your good-brother had just summoned in his brother’s mind. That woman and her cheap perfume, that way it had clung to his skin, to his thoughts for days after his only ever trip to Flea Bottom.

Then the elder Prince had approached you with his breath stinking of Dornish and it was then that Prince Aemond broke his icy silence, standing up abruptly and looking down at you. "Come, wife. It is time for us to retire."

Prince Aegon had clapped his hands as if in front of a hilarious show, saying "Finally some fun! The bedding!"

The entire crowd present at the banquet had escorted you to the prince's chambers. The servants had removed your dress, leaving you in your underskirts; you had unconsciously covered your chest, crossing your arms to hide from the greedy eyes of the men peering in the doorway, Prince Aegon in the front row with yet another cup of wine clutched between his fingers.

Master Mellos invited you to lie down on the bed, and you obeyed, swallowing, while a host of servants shielded you from view as the Maester made his humiliating inspection.

"All is in order, your Graces," the Master informed the Prince and Queen. And that was enough for Aemond to completely slip the iron mask off his face and go straight to the door. "The show is over. Get out."

"Oh, come on, little brother. Let me watch, at least. I could give you some tips."

Aemond had towered over his brother, and from your seat on the bed, you were able to see the eldest brother shrinking by the moment. "This is not some common whore you're speaking of.” Aemond seethed “She is my wife, and you will owe her the respect she deserves. One more lewd word from your mouth, and I will rip your tongue with my bare hands. Am I being clear?”

"Gods, brother, are you already so cunt-struck?"

He never got an answer, only the door being slammed right into his face.

You stood in the middle of the room, torturing your hands as he looked at you from the door. He seemed unsure of what to do, until he cleared his throat and took a few tentative steps in the room.

“You could have some wine, if you wish. It may…help you.” He said, but as he said this, he seemed to regret his own words, given how his mouth twitched as if he had just tasted something sour. Memories could come just like that, sudden and sour.

“You must relax, my prince. Have some wine, maybe? No need to worry, I will take care of you just as a prince deserves to.”

“I’d like to keep my mind clear, my Prince.” You said, keeping your gaze down, hearing his fast and deep sigh. “Fine.” he said, straightening his back as a soldier. After all, wasn’t this just another duty?

It wasn’t just that though. You were his wife now, the future mother of his children. It was his duty and his right to claim you as his own.

“Lay on the bed.”

With your heart pounding in your ears, you did as you were told but when the mattress dipped under his weight, you did not expect to see him with his clothes still on, the eyepatch firmly in its place. More so, you did not expect the harshness of his gestures as he held your waist to turn you around. The air hitched in your throat as your face met the mattress and a strange sorrow gripped your heart. Did he not want to look at you? Did he not like you?

“Try to stay still and it’ll be over shortly.” he said. He was trying to sound reassuring, but his voice came out cold and flat. His fingers latched on your underskirts, hiking them up, filling you with embarrassment as you grow completely exposed beneath him.

Aemond knew what to do. He may not have been as depraved as his brother, but he was still a man. And once in a while, when his hands would not suffice, some maid or servant girl would’ve had to bear, quite keenly on their part, his intimate attentions.

As his hands began to glide on your thighs, you shivered and said “Wait…”

Slowly your head turned to look at him, cheeks red and breath slow and anxious. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”

Your words seemed to stun him for a moment. The mere thought of you wanting to look at him made him realize how wrong he was behaving. You were his wife, not a common whore to bend over and have his moment of bliss. He had even told Aegon. That was not his intention, but there was a gap between how he felt and how he acted, a limb severed by years of pity looks and feelings trapped in his mouth and swallowed.

Almost gently, he made you turn but once you were facing him, he pinned your wrists on the mattress, unable to touch him even if you had gathered enough courage to do it. You tried to brace yourself for what your mother had told you. But she had not told you that he would touch you there, that all your senses would go numb except for that one brand new feeling between your legs. But he seemed enthralled by it just as you, his mouth parting to let out slow puffs of air as you grow wet and swollen against his fingers.

Your breath was labored, coming out in soft pants that made your cheeks purple. More so because he kept circling his deft fingers on your core while looking straight into your eyes, reveling in the way you were answering to his call, in the way he was shaping your need, your desire.

“You never touched yourself, did you?” he asked in a husky voice.

You barely shook your head and his eye glinted with something dark as he brought his face close to yours “Good. I shall be the only one inside you.”

He swallowed your shaky breath with this mouth, kissing you for the very first time, apart from the shy, almost prude peck exchanged after the wedding vows. Your lips moved shyly, trembling with the coiling pressure between your legs. And just when you thought this heat, this delicious aching couldn’t grow more unbearable, he sticked a finger inside you, spilling a loud moan right against his mouth.

One of your wrists twisted in his harsh hold, willing to touch him, to grip on something, but he didn’t let you. “Easy…” he blew on your lips “Relax. It’ll feel good, I promise…”

It surely felt good to him, to feel the tightness of your cunt squeezing his finger. He curled it and you squinted your eyes, choking a gasp that made him smirk proudly against your jaw. “Gods, you’re so tight…” he breathed as he kept rubbing slowly against your walls.

“It’s—it’s too much—“ you cried out with pain and pleasure running together, breathing his scent of ash, leather and a hint of something minty.

“How will you take my cock if you can’t even take my finger?” He whispered with benevolent cruelty, moving his finger faster and deeper.

Certainly your mother had not told you of the obscene wet sounds you would hear, of the uncontrollable moans coming out of your mouth, of his soft growling next to your ear when his breeches became too tight.

He had lined the tip of his hard manhood to your entrance, catching your breath away as tried to still your nerves, but the pain came altogether. You felt like he was cutting you from the inside. Tears filled your eyes, squinting for the painful stretching. You knew he was restraining himself; he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already was. And you almost felt affection for him, most men would not have bothered.

Then he had started to move, you felt that stranger body rubbing over and over against your walls, and finally the pain soothed, but not completely. You could tell he was enjoying it, his ragged breath and faint moans told you so, as well as the curses hissed through his teeth in a language you guessed was Valyrian. And then he had stilled completely, gripping your hips hard and firm while you felt a hot wave pulsing through your core.

The next morning, you could barely sit down for breakfast, and your aunt had looked at you with concern and a hint of amusement in her eyes. She was a veteran at court, a long-time widow, and quite happy to be so. It was her who suggested your betrothal to the Prince.

"How are you feeling, sweet niece?"

"Awful." you said promptly, shifting your weight on the seat.

"Well, this is the kind of anguish all women must go through."

"I thought that was giving birth to another human being."

"Oh Gods, no. That is the ugly part. This is the good one," she said with a sly smile "I suggest you enjoy it as much as you can."

At the time, you didn't really understand what she meant. The first night with the prince had gone...well, you thought. But he certainly enjoyed it more than you.

The second time was better. Your muscles were still sore, but the pain was but a faint discomfort compared to the pleasure you felt for the very first time in your life.

The third time he went down on you, bringing you so close to the edge only to deny your release, with cruel enjoyment on his part, making you whine with shame at the loss of his mouth and tongue on your folds.

The fourth time he bent you down on the breakfast table, all things falling in a mess of cutlery. He had pulled up your skirts and lowered his breeches just enough to thrust in, unraveling a special spot deep inside of you that had you mewling like some primitive beast.

The fifth time he had you writhing in bed, hair stuck to your head with sweat and hands clenching the sheets while he had you peak three times in a row.

It was then that you started to think your aunt was right.

That was indeed the good part.

“Are you afraid?” he asks, with a soft taunt on the tip of his tongue. You drag your eyes away from the gigantic beast before you and almost scoff. That is enough for him to laugh, quietly, but still not quietly enough for you to not notice and wonder at the view.

It’s been merely one moon since you’ve been married to Prince Aemond, and you could count on the fingers of your hand the times you have seen him laugh. It was eerie at first, you feared all the things you heard about the One Eyed Prince were true. That he was cold as stone and just as hard. And he was. But the more you spent time together, the more you were able to make cracks, and let light through.

“I’m equally afraid as any little mortal of right mind would be in front of the largest dragon in the known world, my dear husband.”

His lips stay quirked up, but his eye widens, as it always does when you call him that. He steps close to you, a few of his long strides are enough for him to tower over you, and the ground below your feet shifts.

“Come.” He says, taking your hand, “I promise she won’t eat you.” This time you deliberately glare at him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Do you need some other kind of persuasion to trust me? Perhaps like the one I used this morning?”

The early afternoon sun makes his face almost hurting to watch, or maybe it's just his bold gloating that makes his appearance so exhausting.

“That was not persuasion.” you remark, hiding the tinge of red on your cheeks “It was coercion.”

“Hmm. You didn’t seem so hostile when I made you come twice before breakfast.”

"I was hostile to the chance of the maid assisting with what we were doing."

"The maid should know better than to enter while my wife is undressing."

His eye roams over you just as he had done that morning, hunger clouding it, making your insides shrink. "Perhaps it's best if she knew. Someone must be aware of how cruel my husband is." there's a soft tease in your tone—something you are still learning, but true nonetheless.

He had ripped your nightgown with his bare hands when the maid entered to help you dress. She fled hastily, but you barely spared a glance at her, already lost to the fierce claim of his hand between your legs. He had taken you, twice, and then ordered you to dress, forcing you to have breakfast with the Queen and the Princess with your thighs still sticky with sex, sticky with him.

And he had been there, sitting just in front of you, with a piercing and delighted gaze.

He pulls your hand, and you follow, getting closer to that living relic that is Vhagar, Queen of All Dragons. She raises her monstrous head and looks straight at you with her amber eyes.

It is the first time you step so close to her, and even if you thought about it a lot, your heart is pounding fast, and your breath comes out slow and labored. She's a dreadful wonder.

She flares her nostrils and smells you, making a low rumble which results in a gust of hot wind that ruffles your hair and skirts.

“Lykirī, Vhagar.” Aemond says quietly “Issa ñuha ābrazȳrys. Kostā pāsagon zirȳla.”

You look at him questioningly, and he answers. “I told her you are my wife. And she can trust you.”

You cast a curious look at the dragon and then back at him “Is that all it takes? You tell dragons to trust you, and they resist the urge to turn you into their meal?”

Aemond curves his lips and makes you step closer, standing behind you and guiding your hand on the old green scales. “It takes much more than that.” he whispers in your ear “You have to surrender to them, completely. A dragon is no slave.”

You feel the heat beneath your palm, but it’s not that that makes you swallow; it’s the heat of his breath on your neck, right into your ear, scorching his way into your brain and inflaming every thought.

“What does Lykirī mean?” you ask, and you hate how your voice cracks on the edges.

He smirks because he knows, he always does. But he does not answer. Instead, he pulls your hand again, and you follow, circling the beast until stopping before the intricate ropes that lead to the saddle.

“Aemond, I don’t think—”

“You are my wife and you will ride with me on dragon back.” He said, commanding.

Truthfully, you gladly want to obey; there is just a slight difference between picturing riding a dragon and doing it.

Even the climbing to get in the saddle is a challenge on its own, but he helps you until you firmly seat yourself in it. Aemond sits behind you, and you look around with widened eyes, as if you are looking down from the highest tower ever built, except this is a living one, made of fire and breathing fire.

He leans over you to grab the reins, and you tense, waiting with bathed breath.

“Dohaeras, Vhagar. Soves!”

She lets out a loud screech that makes your ears hurt, but you have no time to even register it because she's already moving. You grip Aemond’s arms and brace yourself against his chest when Vhagar lurches onward and opens her huge wings to take flight.

She goes up and up, above the clouds, and your head is dizzy, with fear, with euphoria, until you are laughing like a child, like you never did in your entire life. Aemond lets go of the reins and laces his arms around you, angling his head to look at you, his silver hair violently ruffled by the wind. “How does it feel, my sweet wife?”

There are no common words to describe it. Now you know why they say Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. No man could claim a dragon or rule the skies.

“I feel like I’m close to the Gods.” you say, and he tightens the hold on you “Dragons do not answer to Gods.” he says, burying his nose in your hair “Where does this leave us?”

You turn your head to look at him, and you feel like you are looking at one of them. And yet he looks like he’s beyond any God.

“Above them. Above the Gods.”

“Hmm.” He croons, breathing your scent through his nose, and then his right hand grabs your skirt and dips underneath, until you feel his cold fingers grazing your skin. “I will make you feel like one.”

He cups your core through your small clothes, and you whimper, gripping his arm harder. He feels your heat through his palm, hotter than Vhagar’s own fire, and he sets the fabric aside to properly touch you. “My sweet wife.” he whispers, sliding a finger between your folds “Always so ready for me.”

“Aemond.” You say, holding your breath, trying to oppose but your voice cracks, and your body with it, already answering to his call. You see clouds before your eyes, but it’s all a blur, all your senses are enslaved by his touch, rubbing lazy circles on your bud. Too slow for your liking, for your need. Your hips arch and buck, chasing his hand for more friction, and he laughs, darkly. “What is it? What do you need, sweet girl? Tell me.”

He takes your chin with his free hand and forces you to turn your head and look at him. His hold is ruthless, but his tone is almost pleading. “Tell me.” he orders and you feel like he’s smothering you, sweeping away all the air from your lungs. “I-I need more…”

“More of what?” he asks, stopping altogether. “Show me.”

You look him in the eye and swallow, heat inflaming your cheeks, but there’s no place for shame, not here. It is just a faint ghost passing through you, and then it’s gone. Your hand pulls the gown up, and you place it on his, like a feather. “Here.” You breathe on his mouth “Inside.”

The howling wind does nothing to muffle his growl, and then he’s kissing you, harshly, teeth clashing and biting your lips as he accepts your plea, sliding a finger inside of you.

A strangled moan escapes you, and he swallows it, darting his tongue in every corner of your mouth. He releases your chin only to grab your leg to further open them and then he adds a second finger, moving them deftly until reaching that special spot. Your head falls back on his shoulder, gasping loudly, digging your nails into his hand.

Your breath is ragged and fast, and you uselessly try to stifle moan after moan even if there are only the skies to hear.

“Don’t.” he says grazing your lobe with his teeth “I want to hear you. I want you to scream for me.”

Your mind goes blank, as does all your restraint. You feel the tide coming to crash you, hips moving on their own accord, chasing and chasing. And then you’re drowning in it, mouth falling open and flesh and bones clenching and trembling.

He grunts softly when your nails scratch his skin and his fingers slip out, glistening; he raises them to his lips and tastes every drop of you. Still panting, he takes your chin once more with his sticky fingers and licks your lips, so you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your head is still dizzy when Vhagar lands in a clearing in the King’s Wood, but this has nothing to do with altitude. Your limbs are heavy when he helps you dismount, your legs buckle. There is a tautness knotting your bones, itching your fingertips.

You wish to touch him, because you have never, not as a wife would touch her husband, not as he has done with you.

It is only a moon and yet he has taken you almost every night and every day. He has touched you everywhere, he has molded you to his liking, and you let him do it with giddiness, undoing yourself like clay in his hands. He had put his mouth on you, and you have discovered he particularly enjoyed it, because he has done that at the most inopportune times, even in some dark corner of the corridors.

And you wondered if you could do the same with him—not because you have to, but because you want to. You want to claim him just as he claims you, relentlessly.

And he really is. He is relentless, he doesn't give you the time to wander with your hands, to discover, to touch. Fire burns him quickly and you are ashes before you realise you are burning with him.

“I didn’t know my wife had claws.” He says at one point, while you are going back to the Keep.

You wake from your thoughts and turn, watching him raise his hand to show the red marks on the back of his hand, and the sight makes you almost proud—proud to have left a mark of you on him. But you want more, and he wants more. You know it; it takes a brief look at his breeches to know that he wants more.

You dart your eyes around, but there's no one. So, you stop. Trying to gather all the boldness you never had, you step closer to him and take his hand in yours. Your eyes look up slowly, glinting with uncertainty and bravery. "Then let me soothe your pain, husband."

Aemond’s eye widens, and the air around you turn heavy, forcing you to open your mouth to breathe. You take one more step and bring the back of his hand to your lips, kissing it gently while your eyes stay fixed on his face. The other hand goes tentatively to his chest and then slides down, and for once, just once, he’s the one answering your call. His eye darkens and his lips part when your hands bashfully grab the laces of his breeches.

But you should have known better. Targaryens and their desires. Doomed to take whatever they want, whenever they want, answering neither Gods nor men.

You barely blink and he grabs you by the wrists and forces you to the ground. Cold grass and bushes stinging your back make you gasp, but Aemond is already on you, watching you like a century-long thirsted man who takes a glimpse of a water spring, as if you could evaporate from his sight at any moment.

“Aemond, please.” you beg “let me—“

But his tongue is in your mouth, hot and scorching you alive. Your eyes flutter shut, and he hikes your skirts up, taking hold of your hips. You feel his bulge against you, hard and ready, and you can do nothing else than wait, pinned down like prey, all bravery a distant memory.

Suddenly he lowers himself down, lifting your skirts with haste until you’re completely bare half down. “No—Aemond, please I want to—”

“You want what?” he asks with a wolfish grin “Deny me your sweet taste? Iksā ñuhon, ābrazȳrys.” He said that already, you know what it means. You are mine.

“You belong to me. And this…” he swears placing your legs on his shoulders while looking at your aching core as a man who found the greatest treasure in the world. “This belongs to me as well.”

He runs his tongue up and down your wet folds, humming with delight as he tastes you and sees you squirm, arching your back on the stingy bushes. You moan loudly when he slowly swirls his tongue, not able to keep track of your hips starting  to move on their own, thrusting into his mouth and the sight of you like this, makes him even wilder, pushing him to open his mouth and put it entirely on your cunt, sucking harshly until anything before your eyes becomes blurred.

Your legs on his shoulders begin to shake and curl, caging him further against you, but just when you are about to come straight into his mouth, he pulls back. A weak sob leaves your mouth as your hips keep bucking against nothing and he smirks at that, untangling your legs from his shoulders, running his tongue over his lips, to taste what's left of you on him. You look at him through dazed eyes and a tinge of annoyance for the denied release. “What?” he has the boldness to ask with a sly smirk “Did you not enjoy it?” he runs his thumb on his glistening chin and swiftly licks it. "Hmm. I most certainly did."

“Aemond, please.” you claw desperately at his shoulders and forearms, forcing him to lie on you, feel something that could soothe the aching between your legs. He seems keen to grant you this mercy, molding his crotch against you so you can feel how hard and desperate he is.

“Please.” you beg in a thin voice.

“Speak it plainly, my love. I want to hear it from your pretty mouth.”

You look at him straight in the eye and what you say next is not a request nor a plea. Your mother would be ashamed of you, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You are not begging. You are demanding. “Fuck me.”

He doesn’t need more than a few moments to get his cock out of his breeches, and not a moment later he’s pushing inside of you, your back arching on the bushes and your throat fighting for breath. He groans and starts a relentless pace, lifting his weight from you just enough for him to look at his cock going in and out, the sight only pushing him to thrust harder and harder. “Look at you.” he croons, sweet and rough “You were born to take me, to be mine.”

Your face twists with pleasure, teeth biting your lower lip while he takes you higher and higher, higher than any sky a dragon could ever take you.

He soon becomes messy and sloppy, cursing under his breath, but you can barely hear him. Your mind is sluggish and everything comes muffled: him, the birds chirping on some tree, your wet flesh slapping against his in the lewdest and most blessed way.

He curses some more, and then he’s spilling inside you, his arched mouth opening and his eye closing like a man absolved.

And yet, he does not stop. He has not claimed enough.

“Māzis, dōna ābrazȳrys. Come for me.”

Your hand clutches something on the ground, something with thorns that pierces your skin with pain, but you can’t even feel that, because you are falling, legs trembling around him, and heart stopping for an endless moment of pure breathtaking bliss.

“Gevie.” he coos with his lips on yours, falling with his body on you, still clenching and pulsing around him. He stays right where he is, nesting inside of you, and now it is the only chance you have been granted to touch him. You put an arm around his shoulders, catching your breath, and look at the skies above, thinking you are indeed above them.

It was easy to explain the dirt and grass stains on your dress. It was a little less easy to explain the twigs in your ruffled hair when you and Aemond returned to the Keep only to meet the Queen Mother along one of the corridors. Alicent merely smiled at you with a tight smile and did not spare from giving a look full of daggers to her son.

"Seven Hells" you mutter when you go back to your rooms and catch a glimpse of the mess you are in the mirror.

Aemond stays on the threshold to close the door and grins, or rather, gloats.

You step out of your muddy shoes and start to pull the laces of your dress.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and you playfully glare at him. "Am I allowed to take a bath now? Or do you want me to go around all sullied? I fear there are no believable excuses for the state I’m in."

"You can tell them the truth." he says, walking to you and replacing your hands with his to help you pull the intricate laces.

You smile softly with your back turned before raising an eyebrow, asking "Which is?"

He keeps his eye focused on the dress, a slight furrow in his brow, and stoically serious, he says "That your husband fucked you in the King's Wood."

"I could tell the maid. I'm sure she won't be stunned after what she saw this morning."

He makes you turn so you can look at him, and the sight before you makes your heart sing. His eye roams on your face softly, a rare sight on him, always stoic, always sharp, like all the angles composing this beautiful sculpture of black glass.

You always thought of marriage as a strategic deal for men, and a way for women to prove their value to the world, giving those same men sons and daughters. But you care for him. And he cares for you. That look on his face is enough for you to know that he cares for you, not merely as a brood mare.

“Gevie.” he says, quietly, and he touches your cheek, softly, making you wonder how those same hands can be so delicate and yet so merciless at the same time.

“What does it mean?” you ask, even if you are sure he will not answer. You observed that when he speaks in High Valyrian he does it almost to himself, as if to protect something he does not wish the others to know.

But this time, he meets your eyes and lowers his hand. “Beautiful.”

You look at him with your heart pounding in your throat, and then you stand up on your toes, crashing your mouth against his, almost catching him by surprise. But he is all too deft at turning the game on his side, and a few seconds later, his hands are gripping your hips and his tongue is licking the roof of your mouth.

When the door suddenly opens, you pull back, spotting the same maid from that morning who, this time, can do nothing but suffer the Prince's wrath.

"Can't you just fuck off for once?!"

You hold back a laugh against his chest and the poor maid flees in a hurry. But when he pulls you to him, tilting his head to pick up where he left off, you step back and say, "I'm afraid the Queen has requested your presence. You should go, my dear husband. I promise that by tonight I will be completely clean."

"Tonight?" he asks, raising his eyebrow. "What is happening tonight?"

You shrug your shoulders and hold back a smile. "Innocence doesn't suit you, my Prince."

"Neither does you."

"I'm afraid this is your fault. You are sullying my soul as well as...everything else."

"You won't be of the same mind when you have my child growing in your womb," and he smirks, looking at you as if he's taking a sacred oath, and then walks away.

You finally manage to take a bath and change clothes, and then you go to visit your aunt. She spends most of her time alone, sipping tea in the gardens, partly because she can't stand the other court ladies, partly because the court ladies can't stand her. Truthfully, you cannot blame them, your aunt speaks plainly—too plainly at times.

You sit down with her for tea, which you end up swallowing like salt, because your aunt takes it with a whole squeezed lemon, and no sugar.

"I saw you with your husband earlier. I may be too old for new fashion but mud on your skirt and twigs in your hair seem a bit too brazen, even for me."

You stifle a smile, recalling what happened. If only she knew he was brazen enough to have you utterly undone on dragon back, thousands of feet up.

Your eyes go distant while you fumble with some tablecloth threads, but your Aunt stares at you piercely, and grabbing her cup of tea she says "I love that look on you."

"What?"

She sips the sour liquid and puts the cup down. "That look. The I'm in love look."

"I am not!" you counter, cheeks going red.

"Of course you are. I've watched you two. I dare say he's falling way faster than you."

You look at her puzzled. Many things have changed in a moon. And you are sure you are utterly infatuated with him. But you did not know what to think of what he actually feels for you, if he even feels something. You know he cares for you, you know he loves spending time with you. You know he's passionate, possessive, almost soft at rare times. But in love? That seems too soon to consider, or to hope for.

"It is too soon to talk about love."

"In fact, I did not, my sweet niece. Falling in love and love are beasts of different species. Why do you think we say "falling"? You can't stop from falling. To love a person is an entirely different matter. Love is a choice."

You let those words sink but you prefer not to question your heart right now. There is a reason you have come here to talk to your aunt, even if you don't know how to address the matter without melting from embarrassment.

But in the end, who could you ask for advice? Your squeamish maids? The Queen Mother? Definitely not.

"Listen, I...I wanted to ask you something..." you start "It is uhm...a matter of somewhat intimate nature."

"Ah, my favourites." your aunt says, beaming "I am all ears."

You shift uncomfortably in your chair and swallow another sip of that dreadful tea "My mother...she explained to me what would happen between husband and wife to...consummate the marriage. But she didn't tell me...well, everything else."

Your Aunt is quick to raise her eyebrow "I gathered that your marriage had been consummated by now. Thoroughly."

"Y-yes, of course. But I...discovered...that there are other ways for a husband to please his wife...and I was wondering if...if I could…do those same things to please him."

Your aunt looks utterly puzzled for a long moment, and then, almost stunned, she says "Oh Seven Hells, child. You are telling me you never sucked your husband off?"

A few court ladies walking near turned their heads, going white as sheets, while you, on the contrary, take a nice purple shade.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, prissies. We all did it eventually." she dismisses them, waving a lazy hand, and looks back at you. "You should do it, if you wish. Men love it. Your uncle used to ask—"

"I don't want to hear that, auntie, I'm begging you." you say squinting your eyes.

"Listen to me, child. Men love to think they rule everything, everywhere. But it is not always like that. And if you want to rule your husband's heart, you must rule in his bed first."

That evening, Aemond wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his room with his wife and forget all the hateful political talk he had had to endure at dinner.

You had not attended, and that had bothered him. Never would he have thought of marriage as anything more than a duty, yet there he was, wondering where you were, who you were with, and why you weren't in his rooms when he set foot in there.

"Where is my wife?" he asks the maid, and she keeps her eyes glued to the floor, saying "The princess spent the evening in the library, your Grace. She told me that she would be—"

"I am here," you say, appearing behind the young maid.

You see his chest sag as if a weight is leaving him, and he casts an icy glance at the poor maid "Out."

He is rarely kind to servants, but you can tell by his tense shoulders that something is wrong.

"Aemond, what is the matter?" you ask as soon as the door closes, walking up to him with a hand behind your back.

"Where were you? Why weren't you at dinner?"

"I was in the library."

"For four hours?"

"It was a tough read—"

He grabs your arm, gripping hour wrist harshly, and you flinch. "Aemond, I swear to you.” you say watching his eye on fire and a sneer twisting his mouth “You can ask Maester Mellos." 

Suddenly he lets you go, and looks down, closing his eye for a moment. But he doesn't apologize, he never does, and not because he is a Prince. It's just the way he is. He doesn't apologize, he doesn't say thank you, he doesn't say please.

"Aemond, what's going on?"

"I don't want to talk about it now. In fact, never. Not here."

You watch him carefully, and you nod as he moves to pour wine into a cup. You watch him gobble it up greedily, which is unlike him. So, you get close and move your hand from behind your back and say, "Anyway, I wasn't lying. I really spent four hours in the library...trying to decipher this."

You show him an old book, and the title catches his eye, cup held in midair. "Tales of the Dragonlords?" he asks frowning. "This is in High Valyrian."

"It is." you confirm as you move closer, and you steal his cup before saying, "Would you read it to me?" and you take a sip, of wine and courage.

He watches the liquid flow down your throat and then accepts the invitation, taking the book—the one he has read so many times he can recite it by heart. He opens it to the first page, but you say "No. Page 72."

There is a slight imperative tone in your tone of voice, and it thrills him, given how his eye glints under the candlelight. He drops it on the table, looking at you from head to toe, and says, "I'll read it to you later, sweet wife."

He steps closer but you back away saying, "Fine, then. I'll tell you what I understood so you can correct me or not." and at the same moment your own hands go up on your corset and you start pulling on the laces.

The gesture catches his eye like a moth to a flame and he stays silent as you pull all the laces and then slip off your dress, remaining in your underskirt. His gaze roams over you slowly, and with a soft smirk, he decides to play the game.

“Page 72, you said. How Dragonlords claimed Dragons.”

“Yes.”

"And why did it capture your interest? Do you wish to do it? Do you wish to claim a dragon?"

"I wish to conquer, not claim."

He comes closer and looks at you, breathing through his nose, restraining, always restraining, and then he's raising his hand to reach a lock of your hair falling on your shoulder, but you stop him, air as heavy as moss.

"The Valyrian sages say a dragonlord must surrender himself completely to the dragon. But it works both ways. The dragon must submit his will to their rider."

He looks at you without blinking, and you take his arms, guiding him closer until you turn and push him lightly on the bed. He sits and you slowly climb on his lap, knees caging his hips, heart is pounding in your throat like a hammer. You hear him taking a swift breath and pride pools in your bones because for once you have caught him off guard.

You can feel his crotch hardening by the moment, but the look on his face is not one of hunger or lust. It is pure and blessed devotion.

You wonder at the view, and your eyes roam on his face until...

"Can I take it off?"

There's no need to say what. His face goes hard as stone, eye looking away with discomfort, with shame.

"Please, Aemond." you whisper. "I want to see all of you. I want you to bare yourself to me as I did to you."

"It is not pleasant."

"I don't want pleasantness. I want you."

He stares at you for an eternal moment and then he caves.

A flash of sparkling blue catches you completely and you can do nothing but watch with lips parted, while he keeps his eye down.

You wrap an arm around his shoulders and lean your head against his to breathe one single word in his ear. "Gevie."

His arms are all around you, holding you so tight you might gasp for air. Instead you are smiling, breathing through his long silver hair. You are not sure if you aunt is right, if love is indeed a choice. You can't bring yourself to care because you are doing it already.

And then he's kissing you, seizing your tongue with his in a fierce consuming way. He slightly hikes up your hips, and his hand tries to slide between your legs, but you lace your fingers around his wrist, breaking the kiss with panted breath.

"No." you whisper, and he looks at you almost questioningly, mouth open and chest heaving.

"Lykirī."

His eye widens and you smile, secretly. "I know what it means now."

He smirks at this and does not miss the chance to be the ever diligent scholar. "But you said it wrong. The R is hard."

“Lykirī.” You say again, following his lesson, and in the same moment your hand leaves his wrist and goes down to his breeches. He dips his chin to look at it, at your hands unsure, and he too looks unsure.

“You don’t have to—“

“I want to.” You say, and your voice comes out firm and clear. “Please, Aemond. Let me…let me touch you.”

He realizes now that in all the times you have been lying together, you never managed to lay a hand on him. He likes to keep people at distance. Too many wrong hands have been on him. The Maesters’, inspecting, debating, healing without healing. That whore, taking what it was not hers to take, not yet.

But he wants you to touch him. He has dreamed of it, in any way a man could dream of a woman’s touch.

He looks at you for a moment, chest rising slowly, and then, without taking his eye off you, he pulls the laces of his breeches and guides your hand around his cock. You look down, exhaling a long breath at feeling his hard and hot flesh already pulsing.

He knows you don’t know how to do it, so his hands guide you at first, going slowly up and down, and the air comes out of his mouth slowly and labored. You look up at him, his eye is pitch black, lid growing heavy with pleasure, and your core clenches, desire pools in your belly and flows down.

He must hear the call of your body, because he releases your hand, still stroking him, and goes right between your legs. You gasp loudly, and he hums, delight dripping from his voice just as you are dripping on his fingers. He starts to pump his fingers and you can do nothing but moan, clutching his shoulders with your free hand, the other still around his cock, but the act is growing lazy, your mind can’t focus properly on what you are supposed to do.

“Listen.” he orders you, fingers moving faster and faster, and you do listen. Your soaked flesh coming undone at his scorching touch. “Who else has you like this?”

But this is a question he’s asking himself. Because no one else will ever have him bare like this.

“You. Just you.” you say hoarsely, eyes closing and hips rocking on their own accord.

“And who am I?” he whispers just as hoarsely, and yet his voice is like a whip on all your senses.

“My husband.” you cry, feeling the wave ready to drown you “Ñuha zaldrīzes.” My dragon.

You cannot care less about how you said it, because then your mouth falls open, nails digging into his shoulder while your trembling hips keep riding his fingers, clenching them like a vice.

Your head falls onward, leaning against his forehead, and you try to catch your breath. You watch his wet fingers go straight into his mouth while he looks at you, humming with pleasure. “You look so pretty like this.” he says with the ghost of a smile on his lips “I should fuck you in Throne Room with the whole court watching, so they know how pretty you are when you come for me.”

You laugh with your cheeks flushing, and he slides an arm around you, and you know he wants to pin you down on the bed and fuck you until you are muffling nonsense in the pillow. But this is not his game. This is yours, and even if you don’t know how to play, you will win.

“No.” you say, climbing down from his lap, and he looks at you with hunger and a tinge of thrilling curiosity. “It is my turn to claim.” You say with all the bravery you possess.

Not a moment later, you are going down on your knees.

Another small victory, because his eye widens as he had never done before, and you can see that this, the sight of you on your knees before him, is something he has been craving for, even dreamed of it.

His breathing is slow, and you are not even touching him.

You place yourself between his knees and you lean closer and closer, anxiety twisting your insides, but you want to do this. “Lykirī, nuha zaldrīzes. Surrender.” you take him into your hand, tugging slowly, and your lips linger on the tip, heart pounding in your ears and eyes fixed on him. “Lykirī.” You say one last time and then you are swallowing him.

He hisses loudly and his lips part, hands clutching the covers until his knuckles go white. He’s like burning metal inside your mouth—hot and hard. At first, you just taste him, running your tongue over the head, and he’s cursing under his breath. His hands twitch on the covers, restraining and restraining, but there’s no need. You take his hand while looking at him and you release it from your mouth to say “Teach me.”

It’s like you have just poured fire on more fire. His eye goes wild, he takes hold of your head and starts to guide you again, making your mouth engulf him once more and deep down to the base and then up to the tip again, filling the room with a wet gagging sound. You get the gist of what you’re supposed to do, so your head starts going up and down and up and down, and he actually moans for you, head falling back for just a moment before looking back, he can’t help but watch as you fiercely claim him.

You watch his chest heaving fast and your jaw is starting to hurt but you don't care, you are too absorbed by the view before you. You are too thrilled by the fact that, for once, you have made him speechless.

He's always so bold in the bedroom, so cruel in deciding when and how to give pleasure, and now he's utterly speechless. He can only curse without breath, and gasp and groan.

“Kelītīs.” he manages to say at one point, voice all husky and cracking. You don’t know that word, and you have no time to ask because in a blink, he’s slamming you onto the bed and he’s hiking up your skirt, but you get on your elbows pushing him on his back and climbing on him.

“I’m not done, valzȳrys.” you say feeling his hard length inflaming your core, so you lay your hips on it as firmly as possible. “I claimed, but I did not conquer.”

“You are fucking torturing me.” he points out, bucking against you.

“Conquests could last for centuries, dear husband. You above all should know that.”

“All I know now is that I need to fuck you.” he says placing both hands on the sheets to pull himself up.

“No, I will.” you promise, rocking your hips once more “This is my conquest, not yours.”

You keep rubbing your drenched core on his length until a sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, and he's so hard he's leaking from the tip. "You are twisted, wife." he says with a dazed tone and you smile even if you can't take it anymore, but you rock some more, saying "I'm a quick study. And I'm learning from the best."

Finally, when you are so wet you are dripping on him, you raise just enough to slide his cock inside of you.

You gasp together and you brace on his shoulders to start moving. You both know you are not going to last long, so you start rocking your hips slowly, taking him to the hilt until you struggle for air.

“Move…” he orders but you just take the opposite road, slowing your hips in a delicious torturing way. “Do you know what else the Sages said? A rider must know their mount, feel their heat below them.”

But Aemond does not have a single drop of blood in his head right now to give you an answer, let alone play your game; he's just fire that burns and burns and burns and just like the Sages said, you can feel his heat, burning below and inside you. He grips your hips and starts to thrust inside you like the wild beast you are supposedly claiming, until you are moaning so loud your throat hurts.

“Yes—” he growls as you bounce on him “Just like that—you’re gripping me so well—fuck"

You both turn sloppy, a mess of sweaty limbs and teeth biting, clutching at each other with bruising grips, pulling at the roots of his hair when you’re about to fall from the highest sky.

"Come on, my sweet girl. Let go for me." he breathes into your mouth, forcing you to move even faster "Let go fro your dragon. Seal your conquest." And you do.

He follows right after, spilling inside while digging his teeth into your neck like fangs on a prey, muffling his loud groaning.

And you are smiling like a fool, a lovestruck fool, but most of all, a conqueror. 

Thank you so much for reading!! 💞💞

#likiri #liv(in la vida loca) #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond x wife reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x wife reader #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond fic #aemond smut #hotd fic

[whore-ibly-hot]

"A Servant and His King."

Yandere!Fae-King x Fae!servant x. Fem! Reader

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, coercion, fae related hijinks, basically monster fucking, oral (fem receiving), loss of virginity, clit play, p-in-v sex, power dynamics.

(A/N): Part two to a non-smutnfic about Puck, based off of puck from 'Midsummer Nights Dream'. Can be read with or standalone.

Part one (not required to understand)

A brief gust of wind and leaves rattles the shutters of your small cottages window, not sounding out of place when mixed with the usual sounds of the forest. However, the gust turns softer as it gently brushes against the shutters, causing them to open slowly with a creak.

A pair of feet land nimbly upon the wooden dresser across the room from your bed, a shadowy figure squatting down with a grin. The figure hops down, making its way to your bed, where you sleeping form lies blissfully unaware of the intruder.

Groaning, you are soon roused from your slumber by a light pressure on your wrist, and your eyes flutter open. You gasp, seeing the being before you and trying to pull away. "

"W-who are you! Stay awa-" a finger is pressed softly to your lips, the figures face coming into view as the lean forward. Forest green eyes and a set of familiar pearly whites greet you.

"Shh! No need to fear, only Puck is here." He coos, kissing your wrist once more, pressing the soft flesh to his lips. "Sorry to frighten you, little mortal. I would never mean to upset you, but I couldn't very waltz in through the entrance to your humble abode, especially given your mother's feelings about my kind." He lays his lithe body across yours, head on your chest as he looks at you with glee.

"Why are you here, Puck? It's late, I must rest." You say, though you don't resist the fae boys touching. "Sleep is important for humans."

He scoffs. "I know, but I have something more important than your human need for sleep. My king, Oberon, leader of the seelie court wishes to meet you." He pulls you up by your shoulders, a hand fixing your nightgown which begins to slip from your shoulder.

"T-the king?" You're just a human woman, a peasant. You've never even met a human noble, much less a faery king. "Why? Puck, I'm not, I can't! Now? I'm not dressed properly, I'm a human, I-"

Once again, a finger is placed against your lips. Invading your space as per usual, Pucks forehead is pressed against your forehead, nose to nose. "Shush, little mortal. Please, the king loves me. I am his jester-servant, his beloved Puck! We've shared many a-" he chuckles. "Amourous night together. He knows if your good enough for me, then your good enough to meet him. Don't discredit yourself, you are so much more than some mortal maid I take in the woods for a night of passion." He makes her sit up, and tries to slip her out of the bed. "He'll love you, my sweet. It's only proper I introduce my new beloved friend to my closest companion, ruler, and my king." You allow him to pull you out of your bed, and into his lanky form.

"Mmph, Puck. I can walk." You groan, trying to wriggle from his grasp. He tsks with his tongue, and shakes his head.

"No, no, no. Don't whine, don't go away. Be good. It's a long stroll all the way to the spring we're going to, just relax." He cackles. "You humans are so indecisive. Just a moment ago you were whining, 'Puck, no. It's too late, I'm a human, I need my sleep.', now you won't let me carry your frail, tired self to see the king. Make up your mind."

You roll your eyes, but suppose he has a point, and allow yourself to melt into his warm embrace, shoulders flush against his pecs.

As he slips back through the window and dances through the glen, weaving through trees and brush like a gust of cool night air, he soon arrives upon a clearing. Smooth rock reflect moonlight, as the water resting atop them comes from the babbling freshwater spring that rests at the edge of the rocks. A figure, imposing and much more muscular than Puck's is sat on one of the rocks, admiring the water.

Puck gently sets you down with nimble hands, kissing your ear lightly. This causes you to squeak and push him off.

"Stop it, Puck! I-im about to meet a king and your acting like we're lovers! Like your an enamored schoolboy!" You exclaim, and his hands only wrap around your waist from behind, playing with the cloth there.

"And here I thought we were lovers..." He feigns a sad face and a pout, before jolting forward and taking you with him by the waist. "My king!" He yells.

The imposing figure looks over, causing you to freeze, mind not really in synch with body as Puck drags you forward. The king is truly a thing of beauty, rugged and piercing as if he were carved, not from stone, but from the wood that made up the forest which he called his domain. He wears a fur pelt around his waist, covering his only upper thigh and not leaving much to the imagination. His is decidedly hairy, and though beautiful is as rugged as a human man of the woods is expected to be. He has dark curls of hair not unsimilar to Puck's, but not as long. His eyes are a deep brown.

"Ah, Puck, my fair servant friend. I was almost afraid you had planned to trick me, having not shown yet." The king muses, legs spread casually and a hand resting against his chin.

Puck gasps, hand to his chest as if hurt. "Never, my liege. Well, at least not to you." Puck coos, sitting on the rock and curling up to the man's calve. The king runs his hands through the curls of the fae man, and you are taken aback by the sensuality of their interaction.

The king looks up. "And you, little mortal, must be my Pucks new favorite thing, hmm?" He asks, head tilted. You nod nervously as the man waves you closer. You bow, and he grins. "Good, good. I assume she knows who I am then? I am King Oberon, of this enchanted woods and over all of the seelie court. Though, my servant here told me you knew little to nothing of our people when asked you about us, so I doubt you'd know what the seelie court is."

You shake your head. "No, sir. All I know-" you glance at Puck, who is practically purring at his kings touch. "All I know is what Puck has told me. That you are powerful, and to be respected."

Oberon grins at this. "That is all you need know. Come here, allow a king to gaze upon you." His hands begin to wander, cupping your face. His large fingers prod your plump lips, your cheeks, and tilts your chin downwards to look at him from where he is sat. Then, the hand is on your shoulder, playing with the straps of your upper garment, then at your chest. This sudden touch in such an intimate place causes you to jolt back. Oberon raises a brow.

"I'm sorry, sir. That is, that is just a very intimate place for humans. It's for sensual matters, when between two adults." You try to explain. Puck sighs, leaning his head on Oberons knee while the king chuckles.

"I am aware. It is intimate and sensual for fae too. That is why you were being touched there." He says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Now, you are only more confused.

"Well, intimacy of those matters between humans happens between a-a married couple, and even then, it should not be openly discussed. A woman like myself couldn't, shouldn't ever bee with a stranger like that, not even a suitor before marriage!"

"I have heard humans are... less indulgent in the passions of life than fae. All those awful, boring rules. And yet you kill your leaders and revolt because your miserable? Perhaps. Eing unable to express those urges is why." He laughs, and Puck joins in. He sense your confusion and continues. "Fae do not believing in brief enjoyment and indulgence. We live life to the fullest. Our liquor is stronger yet we drink more, our food is richer, yet we all eat like kings. And most of all, we indulge in the passions of the flesh with each other more than your little mind could take. I think if you had the opportunity, you'd see it was the best way to live." He muses.

To your suprise, he suddenly moves Puck up from his calve to his lap, holding the thin man by the waist as Puck grins wickedly. "You see, me and my servant here are close, emotionally and physically. We have enjoyed many a night of passion, without the watchful eye of my queen, of course." There is some bitterness in Oberon's tone at the mention of his queen.

"You... you indulge in passion with those, of the same gender as you, o-often?" You ask. It is not wrong, you are just so suprised and curious. You are not even supposed to think about a man pleasing a woman, let alone a man and another man. It is such a foreign idea.

"Mhmm. Being a king is hard for his majesty, and Puck... I, am happy to help him with his desires. My king cares for me, and I care for him." Puck says, before gasping and cutting off. You blush, seeing Oberons hand has slipped below Pucks leafy loincloth, hand stroking Puck manhood. He focuses only on the tip for now.

"I am suprised seeing as you are so shocked by how touchy and sensual fae are, seeing as you bedded my dear servant." Oberon says, and you immediately shake your head.

"No! I've never, me and Puck did nothing together. We drank a little, but he took me home." You exclaim, and look st Ouck for answers. He's too busy letting out soft whimpers and moans as Oberon moves his hand the full length of Pucks cock, paying attention to his bulbous tip.

"Is this true, Puck? I find it hard to believe, my servant can't keep his hands to himself. I suppose this makes you seem even more special to me, that my Puck would wish to see you again so desperately, and rave about you to me even if he had not bedded you yet. That begs the question though..." He leans in to Puck's ear. "Why did you lie to your king?"

Puck groans, brows furrowing. "M' sorry, your majesty! I knew you were so busy, and if I told you I had found a mortal capable of giving such incredible pleasure, you'd be more likely to come and see what a treasure I had found." He stammers. The king shakes his head, slowing his movements on Puck's cock.

"You know better than to lie to a king with a temper, Puck."

Puck cries out, bucking his hips and trying to chase that friction against his kings rough hands. "N-no sir! Trust me, I know if she'd just indulge, the mortal would be wonderful! She... she could be our mortal, not just mine! Please sir, I'll be good, she'll be good, don't stop." He begs.

Oberon sighs, still frowning in Pucks direction but intrigued nonetheless. "Alright, mortal girl. I yell you, if you would only let go, indulge just a bit in the pleasures of the fae, you would live a better life overall. And, should you please a king of the woods, perhaps your... what is it your mother does? Herbs? Perhaps they would see a better yield. An enchantment perhaps?" He offers.

You gulp, body hot with both arousal at the sight before you and anxiety. "I couldn't. What would the people in town think, I-I would be outcast!"

"Who would know? Even if someone were to find out, no one would believe a quiet gardeners daughter slept with a wicked spirit." The king teases, tongue poking out from between his lips slightly. He pulls you to him, and you offer no resistance. "For an untouched maiden, I assure you there is no one better to introduce you to a world of pleasure than the king, and his most loyal servant."

As he says this, the moaning Puck latches his lips onto your neck, continuing to moan as he sucks the soft flesh. You gasp.

"Oh, oh, gods." You squeak, the sensitive skin of your nape never having been touched, much less kissed in such a way.

"No gods, here, mortal. No angels or demons, only fae. Only the spirits of nature." He leans into your ear, kissing the shell. "Only your king."

Soon, a rough hand gets your skirt pooled around your knees, kneading the fat of your thigh and preparing to spread your legs and allow the fae king and his srmervant a view of the untouched treasure that lies there. You shiver as the cold air brushes across your stomach, you've never felt so exposed.

"See, highness? I told you, she's the perfect, pretty little mortal. Tease her, please? For me? I want to see her face as she experiences pleasure for the first time." Puck begs.

Oberon raises a brow and the request. "Such demands from a liar who has already been granted mercy, and is still being pleasure bu the hands of a king." He pulls his hand from Ouck's cock, causing tears to well in the edged faes eyes, having been denied his release.

"Majesty-"

"Enough. I will allow you to tease and prep the maiden, so she may except you king. Before you say anything, be grateful I don't only allow you to watch, or send you home." Puck whines, but grins a little inside. He knows the king enjoys his presence to much to remove him from this sensual scene.

Oberons large hands keep your shoulders flat against the warm stones of the spring, while Puck, still hard beneath his tented loincloth, crawls unceremoniously up between your thighs.

"What are you doing, Puck?" You whisper out softly, looking into his dazzling green eyes. He smiles warmly, pressing his cheek to one of your thighs.

"I assure you, maiden, my wicked tongue is not only good for japes and jabs." He coos. You are still confused at what he could mean, until the two thin fingers parting your folds are replaced with a hot, wet muscle. Puck licks a stripe teasingly up your center, savoring the flavour but eyes never leaving your face.

Oberon smiles down as he watches your face contort and wrinkle at the new sensation.

"Puck, y-your majesty, what is- oh, what is he doing?" You ask, trying to form a coherent sentence at the odd feeling of pressure and friction against both your clit and your entrance as Puck explores your folds.

"It's called cunnilingus, maiden. Fae have many ways to pleasure each other, but many enjoys the feel of one's mouth on their most intimate areas." He chuckles as he watches Puck tasting you curiously. "Sometimes, I find filling his mouth is the only way to quiet him." Puck giggles, and the vibrations make your legs quake.

Soon, the muscle invades your entrance, as Puck is now groaning almost as much as you. It's a gentle stretch, but both Ouck and Oberon know it will be necessary for what the king is to do later. Your aroused and needy clit is not forgotten by the fae pleasuring you, as a free hand comes to tweak it gently. The feeling is overwhelming, and soon, that knot inside you snaps, and you feel a high you've never known. It feels as though currents, waves run through your body as your maidenhood spasms around Pucks tongue.

He removes it, but continues to lap at your spent clit, tasting the juices of your climax. Oberon smiles.

"Was he good, maiden? Did you first touch by a man satisfy?" He asks. You can only weakly nod. "Ah, answer, maiden. Your being addressed by a royal."

"It was... it was very good, m-majesty." You gasp out. You look away at the sheer lewdness of the sight and Oberon crashes his lips to Pucks so that he may taste you on his servants lips.

"She was a divine nectar, my liege." Puck groans, pulling away from the kiss and now trading spots with his king. Now Puck lays by your shoulders, playing with your locks and kissing your neck and jawline while Oberon moves into place.

His chisled body places itself atop you, his sheer size dwarfing you and removing the moonlight from your body, casting a large shadow. You gulp.

"I... I've never done-" he chuckles, cutting you off.

"I'm aware, mortal. All that talk of purity led me to that conclusion. But, you won't be that innocent for long. I will be gentle, but it will hurt at first when you accept me into your sweet cunt. It's all part of the process."

You tense a little at the feeling of something hard, much more rigid than Pucks limp tongue, prodding at your entrance and folds.

"M' scared." You admit. This seems to soften the sensual yet cold king, and he sighs. Even Puck gives him a sad, wide eyes look. He leans down.

"Don't worry, mortal. I will be as gentle as any man has been with a woman. My Puck was never one to be nervous, but I have had lovers in the past who were. I will take care of you." He says.

Puck holds your hand and nuzzles his cheek to yours to provide a semblance of comfort. "It's true. The king is a fair and gentle lover when he wants to be. Don't worry, my friend." He assures.

Oberon strokes your thighs to relax soon, and soon the tip enters your weeping slit. You whine, the intrusion burns a little, especially as he adds a few inches every so often. But, he is slow, and talks you through it.

"Shh, it's alright. Your taking me so well, especially since I am endowed with more than some. Such a good mortal girl, it will feel good once you've stretched to accommodate a fae's cock." He coos.

As he begins to gently thrust, the slightly pain gives way to a burning pleasure. You whimper, his thrusts rocking your ads back against the stone of the spring. His large, curved tip is hitting the right spots, cervix getting pounded by the large man of the forest.

"O-oh, shit! Oberon, please- please, m-more! I need all, all of you in me!" You cry, and he chuckles.

"That's your womb speaking. This is your first time, you couldn't possibly accommodate all of me. But I will give you what I think, ugh, what I think you can take." He thursts become rhythmic, rolling in and out of your stretched tunnel, as Puck holds you steady and plays gently with your chest.

Oberon humps against you a few more times, moaning at Pucks encouragement. "She is so close, sire. I can tell, she's all tense and red, come on! Give it to her, let her take you. Please." It's clear Puck is still needy from not having gotten his release earlier. Still, he seems satisfied watching the king fuck his newest treasure.

"Mortal, mortal. You squeeze like a vice, such a warm, needy cunt. You needed this, to feel such pleasure, didn't you? Needed a cock to fill this cunt?" He moans. "It was fate, wasn't it, Puck? Finding this maiden, all alone. It was fate for you to be brought to us." Puck nods as his master continues.

"Your majesty, I'm gonna- its happening again." You cry, and his pace doesn't slow.

"I know, I know. I'm, fuck-" one last thrust sends the king over the edge. He groans, feeling your tunnel convulse around him as his thick white cum fills you. Puck plants quick, overwhelming kisses across your face as you climax, secretly wondering what you would look like if you bore the king's child.

Soon, Oberon pulls out, and you lay there, trembling and on the verge of sleep. Puck leans down and plants a final kiss upon your lips. He smiles.

"Sleep, little mortal. It's okay, you are safe with me and my king. I'll return you to your bed, pretty one." He strokes your hair softly, until your tired eyes close and stay closes. He sighs, and looks at the king. It's clear he could go for a fee more rounds.

"Majesty, our poor mortal needed this so badly, her body was on fire for it. We can't... we can't well let her go back to her little cottage, all alone in the dangerous wood with no one to please her. She's trusting, and she broke all the rules of interacting with fae so quickly, what if a worse one came along and-"

"Puck!" Oberon exclaims, making the imp jolt and go silent. Oberon sighs. "I am not a fool. I know how much this unique mortal has captivated the two of us. You need not convince me to take her back to my palace. As fair as Titania will be concerned, she is a plaything for you, correct? I will not have her cursing this treasure." Oberons muscular arms cradle your slumbering form.

"Majesty, I know of your endurance. Perhaps when we get back to the palace, while our maiden rests, I may please you." Puck asks, eyes wide and innocent.

Oberon scoffs. "All this acting because I didn't allow you to finish, Puck?" Oberon says, seeing through Pucks facade of goodwill and selflessness. Puck pouts.

"Isn't it tempting, though?"

"Perhaps."

#yandere #yandere oc #tw.yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere content #tw.dark content #x reader #yandere boy #yandere fae #yandere king #oc Puck #oc Oberon #tw.dubcon #yandere smut #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #oc x reader

[quakinqueer]

Piggybacking directly off my last post, I'd now like to present my pitch for summer games 2024. Ladies, gentlemen, and nonbinary friends I present to you:

SMOSH SUMMER GAMES: RENAISSANCE

That's right, you heard me. Medieval/Ren faire theme. Think of the games, think of the costumes, think of the TRAILER. I've seen other people mention this as a potential theme but I'd like to present my own reasoning/ideas:

I've heard multiple people, especially current cast, refer to this current Era as a Renaissance/golden age, so it would frankly be perfect, especially considering it'd be the first in years to feature Anthony.

I just think all the cast would kill it at a lot of the challenges considering a lot of them visit Ren faires pretty often, so there'd really be some serious competition between them all, and if they did dress up for it they'd all look amazing. (Am I biased because I'm currently fixating hard on Damien, the loml, and think he, in particular, would THRIVE with this theme? Yes, yes I am)

We have no way of knowing if a trailer as awesome as the one for Wild West is within their current budget, but presuming for a moment that it is, THINK ABOUT IT! Just imagine the costumes and outfits, maybe a swordfight or two. I'm seeing either a tavern or royal dinner, Chanse and Angela as bards performing, Shayne and Amanda as court jesters, Damien and Trevor as an adventurer and his apprentice, Tommy as a tavern bartender/innkeeper with Spencer as that one regular who never leaves him alone, Ian and Anthony as two kings whose nations (teams) are at war. Preferably directed by Courtney, and maybe also Damien.

#smosh #smoshblr #smosh games #smosh pit #smosh summer games #damien haas #ian hecox #anthony padilla #shayne topp #courtney miller #angela giarratana #chanse mccrary #amanda lehan canto #arasha lalani #tommy bowe #spencer agnew

[lavared]

⚔️ BRÆNRYN BROSCA ⚔️

-

Race: Commoner Dwarf, Casteless

Class: Rogue (Dual Weapon)

Specialization: Duelist

Affiliations: the Carta, Grey Wardens, Orzammar Royal Family, Ferelden Royal Court

Titles: Brænryn the Duster, The Warden, Hero of Ferelden, Paragon Brænryn

Personality: Wary, Brusque, Quick-Witted, Protective, Non-judgemental

Memorable Quotes: “Can I get you a ladder, so you can get off my back?!”

(Details under the cut)

⚔️ ⚔️⚔️

Three styles, three different life stages. 

First one: The Warrior Traveller’s ‘Fit 

Key Words: practical, medium weight, no-fuss, dark tones 

This is what I imagine Brosca looking like after the Joining ritual and for a good part of the game. The beginning of her journey is all slashing, crippling, and traveling on foot, so I needed to get her a look that is functional (allegedly) and with no frills. I needed to make a mishmash of in-game armor parts to get something I could picture her wearing for real. 

It could have been worse, 3/5 stars.

-

Second one: The Fereldian Court Jester 

Key Words: cheap elegance, military influences, brighter colors, poofy

The special occasions look. You can see her wearing this on a diplomatic encounter with the Arl or during a war council with her allies on a cold winter day in Ferelden. I needed to elevate a basic tunic + pants + boots combo by adding more details and faking a more refined fabric for the blouse. I wanted to play on the contrast between modest and expensive, but it was my greatest goal to make her look a bit on the gaudy and tacky side. Being classy is not her forte. 

2/5 stars, but bonus points for trying to look the part. A generous 3/5 stars score.

-

Third one: The Seasoned Veteran 

Key Words: subtle patterns, better fit, souvenirs, mismatched armor

She’s a grown-up now. She’s a Commander, she’s a Paragon, she’s an Icon, she’s a Legend, she’s the Moment (not really, but still). Instead of letting her go full-blown diva, I let her crawl back to her roots. The tunic + pants + boots combo is her uniform, and you won’t catch her wearing anything else, but this time you can find new and old elements added to it. I picture her collecting and looting trinkets, materials, fabrics, and pieces of armor around Thedas, and combining them with what she already owns. She doesn’t fight that much at this point compared to her Blight days, so she skips on the medium armor. 

It’s nice, it’s cute, but it could have been better. 3/5 stars.

⚔️ ⚔️⚔️

I wrote a post narrating in detail why I chose to dress her like this, but it’s so long it’s basically an essay. I’m not bothering you with that, you have a life to care about lol All you need to know is that I needed to recreate the Grey Warden Armour/Uniform color scheme to be consistent with the lore and display her unhealthy obsession for the color blue

#brosca warden #brosca #warden #grey warden #rogue dwarf #dwarf #commoner dwarf #casteless dwarf #hero of ferelden #dragon age #dragon age: origins #dragon age origins #da: origins #DA:O #dao #original #original character #oc #my ocs #my art

[thebubblesareevil]

You’re not Dead I promise

The first thing Kaldur noticed as he woke was the cold, it was gentle without any bite, but permeating his body as if chasing out the painful heat. However the second thing he noticed was not as you might thing the room or event how the air itself seemed to have a green tint to it, that came next, but rather the sound of light snoring coming from a large glowing figure sitting beside the bed. He was slouching in his seat one hand keeping his head propped up while the other loosely held a book in it grasp that was slowly slipping from his hand. Kaldur tried to sit up and started to feel dizzy falling back onto the bed. Unfortunately this seemed to have startled his guard who jumped up dropped his book and trip over his own chair. Kaldur attempted to assist the man but felt too weak to get up. When the man finally stood he looked at Kaldur with bright glowing green eyes that had a ring blue around the pupil, he stood a few inches taller than Kaldur himself, and skin that was just a shade too pale.

“How are you feeling?” The stranger spoke with an echoing voice. But when Kaldur tried to speak the words wouldn’t come. “Shit, one second.” The man sticks his head out the door a minute later he came back. “ I’ve asked for some water, sorry I didn’t think about that.” The man sat down and sighed with a tired look on his face. “I know you probably have questions so I’ll try to explain as best I can.” Kaldur nodded and motioned for the man to continue.

“ Okay, well first of all I’m Phantom and this is my lair, yes I know that sounds bad, let me explain.”

Kaldur looks at Phantom concerned but just a a Phantom is about to continue there is a knock at the door. Phantom beacons them in and to his surprise the person that enters doesn’t appear human. At least not fully. The man? Has green tinted skin and solid glowing red eyes he was dressed like a court jester and he was carrying a tray with a pitcher of water and some light snacks on it.

“Thank you Jester, any word on our guests.” The man, Jester gave Phantom a, quite frankly, huge fanged grin “Half have arrive, Half have yet to come, we shall announce their arrival with the beating drum.” Phantom thanked the man and with a slight bow Jester took his leave.

Phantom handed him the water and continued to explain. “Right now you are in the Infinite Realms otherwise known as the Ghost Zone” Phantom stops for a moment when he sees the mournful look on Kaldur “You’re not dead, I promise. I was wandering through a natural portal when I came across you. You had collapsed from heat stroke, which is to be expected when an Atlantean goes hiking through the desert during a heat wave.” He paused so that Kaldur could elaborate.

“My team and I were in Faucett City in America facing Klarion the witch boy, myself as well as one of my teammates was transported away during the fight. I woke in the desert and attempted to find help as soon as possible.” Phantom nodded along with the explanation.

“That sounds about right, when I found you it looked like you were headed in the direction of the pyramids. Under the advise of my personal doctor, I kept you chilled while you were sleeping to fight off the heat but how are you feeling?” Phantom asked

Kaldur took a moment to take stock of himself before responding. “I’m still a bit stiff and more than a little tired, but it is a vast improvement my previous state.”

Phantom gave a bright smile and Kaldur was thrown for a moment by the sudden shift. “That’s great once you’ve rested a bit longer we can—“ however whatever Phantom intended to say was cut off my the sound of massive drums. Phantom’s smile dropped almost immediately and was replaced with a serious expression as he looked towards the door. “It looks like it’s later than I thought, my guests have arrived. I will unfortunately be stuck going in and out of serious of meetings today. I intended to take you back home once you woke but it looks like that will have to be postponed.” Phantom turned back to Kaldur “In the meantime you are my guest and you are free to explore my lair or simply stay and rest. If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.” He said with a soft smile.

“Thank you for your assistance, all I ask is that I be able to return to my team as soon as possible. I understand you won’t be able to take me yourself however is there anyway another person could return me to my friends.” The smile is gone from Phantoms face much to Kaldurs concern

“ I understand your eagerness to return to your team, however the human realm is not a safe place for spirits and I will not put my friends at risk. I’m sorry..” Phantom then freezes for a moment and with a slight cough he glances to the side refusing eye contact “I just realized I never asked for your name.” He said with a green flush across his cheeks.

Kaldur let out a small laugh before turning serious once more “My name is Kaldur’ahm, however you may call me Kaldur. I understand your hesitation however I was taken from my team in the middle of a fight with an incredibly dangerous individual. Klarion is capable of—.”

“I know exactly what Klarion is capable of.” Phantom interrupted with a dark look “ It hasn’t even been a year since the realms were flooded with the cry’s of children whose lives were lost before their time. You won’t find many friends of Klarion or his cohorts in the Infinite Realms.” Phantom hesitated before continuing “I promise you I will get you back to your friends with as little time passing as possible, I can’t promise to return you to the exact moment you left but I can get you pretty damn close. Just know that time passes differently here, so don’t worry and just focus on recovering” Phantom rose from his seat and headed to the door “I’ll be back to check on you after my first meeting is over with, try to get some rest.” And with that he was gone.

Kaldur sat there for a minute collecting his thoughts before laying back down to rest. His final thought being of the tired eyes of Phantom.

NOTE: just in case you are confused the dead children are referring to when all the adults and children where split into different dimensions, you cannot convince me thousands of children didn’t die just from car crashes alone. Not even taking into consideration parents that were holding their babies when it happened.

#danny phantom #ghost king danny #dc x dp #cold current #kaldur'ahm #i’m sleepy #and stressed #pt 4 #young justice #tw meantimes child death #danny/kaldur

[raineandsky]

#39

Contrary to popular belief, being a court jester has more perks than one would assume.

It’s a simple job, really. Easy to do. You just have to know how to juggle and make crude jokes on the spot and that’s about all it takes to get into the royal palace.

Anytime he’s not entertaining or sleeping off such he’s exploring. There’s a calm—and use—in figuring out the twists and turns of the corridors, the views from the windows, the hidden corners that no one else seems to know exists.

Today is about as normal as the rest of them. The jester is ushered up horrendously early, dressed in his frankly embarrassing entertainment clothes, and dumped at a crude kitchen table with a bowl of whatever slop has been made this morning. Not even twenty minutes after greeting the waking world he’s trekking through the halls and shoving the doors open to the king’s conference room.

“Bless the gods of good humour for your existence,” is the greeting the king gives him. It’s a new one, that’s for sure. The general is standing next to him, looking as dour as always at his entrance, and for a moment the jester questions whether he read the call for entertainment right.

“I’m unsure if my existence warrants a blessing for those already blessed, my liege,” the jester says lightly, and the king positively roars with laughter. It barely deserves a pity laugh in his mind, but he’s learnt the intricacies of the king’s humour in his time here. What the jester thinks is funny doesn’t even see the light of day when he’s working.

“Close the door, my boy, these are private matters.” The jester isn’t exactly sure whether he means to shut them on the way out, but after a moment the king adds: “I could do with something a little lighthearted in a moment like this.”

His general frowns worriedly as the king sinks into his throne with a content sigh. “With all due respect, my liege—” which the jester has learnt means ‘I’m about to insult your god-given authority’ “—you are right, these are private matters. I’m unsure if an audience is a good idea.”

The king waves him off idly. “The boy is hilarious, and in times like these a little fun never hurt anyone. I could use a good mockery of the little brats on our borders, anyway.”

The jester glances at the general with the hopes of conveying the question of ‘what?’, but all he gets is blanked. “My liege—”

“The supposed queen is bringing forces to my walls, general.” The king leans back in his chair, his eyes perusing a map splayed out on the table. “What do you suggest we do?”

The general’s gaze finally flits to the jester, but the boy’s question has already been answered. His eyes are locked to the map instead, staring at the little wooden soldiers circling the kingdom. “From what I can see, they’re aiming to cut off our entrances,” the general says after a moment of deliberation pointed blatantly at the jester. “Anywhere they’re not doing this, there’s been sightings of catapults. They’re going to bring this city down if they can.”

“So?”

“So…” His stare casts onto the map as well, stepping forwards to shift some of the figures about. “We catch them early. There’s an exit they don’t seem to have noticed in the North—if we can beat them to our walls we have the element of surprise and the advantage of not bringing the fight to civilians.”

“I like that idea, general. Has the queen been sighted with her men?”

“Not that I’ve heard, my liege. Most likely she’s hiding in her own kingdom.”

This has all been too much of a shitshow to comprehend, let alone make fun of, and all the jester can think to say is; “what a coward.”

The king glances at him like he just remembered he’s there, but he chuckles regardless. “Indeed. We have the advantage of fear if we know this. We can strike her while they’re busy trying to destroy us.”

“And once they get news of their own kingdom being attacked, they’ll no doubt retreat,” the general adds, and the king gives him a hearty slap on the back that would probably topple anyone else. “We have a plan. We split our forces—some to hold the fort here, and some to destroy their army from the top of the food chain.”

“That’s a bad idea.”

The general and the king frankly look a little incensed at the jester’s input. Shit. It wasn’t meant to come out, but he’s already here, he supposes. “They’re sending their entire army to us,” he continues. There’s a loop on his belt at hand level that’s suddenly getting a lot of love with the rising anxiety of talking out of line. “Shouldn’t we focus on defending ourselves first? If we split, she’s already won.”

“Do you suddenly understand the strategies of war, jester?” the general spits. “I can’t say you’re particularly humorous today.”

“I agree,” the king says, and his tone is that of a business deal. “Thank you for your time, boy. You’re excused.”

He would say something else, but the glares he’s getting are enough to get him executed. So he bows to the king, calmly lets himself out, and bolts.

He comes across one of the cooks when he bursts into the kitchen, who looks a little startled to see him. “Jesus, did you run here or something?” she asks over his haggard panting, and she sighs when he manages to give her the slightest nod.

“Get… get someone else to… take over this,” the jester says between desperate breaths. “We have to go. There’s– there’s horses in the stables that we could probably take–”

“Slow down, kid,” the cook interjects quickly. “Is something going on? Did someone find out?”

“We have to tell the queen to retreat. There’s a secret exit that they want to use to catch her forces by surprise, and the king wants to kill her while she's separated from her defences. I– I tried to tell them it was a bad idea, but… oh god, we don’t stand a chance.”

The cook has taken to staring into the distance in thought, before she suddenly abandons her pot on the table with a hearty clunk. “Grab the horses. The army’s still a few days away from here—we can beat them to it if we run.”

#writing #creative writing #writing community #writers on tumblr #writblr #fantasy writing #fantasci writing

[leafryoworks]

Wine & Whisky

Piece by Piece by :@sm-baby .

I originally write this because I have a thought . Although there isn't many information about Mr Weiss , I wrote this based on my own interpretation on him last night . Mei-Lyn appearance is in here too .

Words : 1623

Happy reading !

Another job well done if he has to say so himself .

Another life he has been brought to justice in court against the king and his little defendant .

Mei-Lyn .

A jester and an advisor , a two package deal . He almost didn’t recognize her with the way she pitched her voice when she was being the jester . 

He almost felt bad .

Almost .

If she hasn’t been silencing all the other women that had been injusticed in this lifetime because of the king’s actions .

But that doesn’t matter , he wouldn’t need to see that little pawn anymore when he’s walking into the old bar of town to down some whiskey on his throat .

.

..

…

Spoke too soon .

It could be any regular pawn he’s looking at sitting down on that very stool . It could also be a coincidence that a pawn would wear that very dress . But the way she sits and brings herself up…

Mei-Lyn ?

No , it can’t be . But when the pawn opens her pretty mouth to ask for some wine , her voice already confirms her identity .

…weeeeell ,this is awkward . It’s one thing to obliterate her on court with evidence but the court was his habitat . This bar isn’t .

He can sense that this place is her natural habitat . 

…nope , just don’t appear in her line of vision . Just blend in the shadows . His coat should help . Don’t make eye contact . Plus , she seems inebriated a bit so another plus .

The dark corner of the bar seems well suited enough for him to reside . It didn’t take long for a waiter to take his order . Plus , he can actually take an eye on her without being obvious .

…dang it , he can’t believe this . He’s stalking a lady ! What would his mother say ?! 

It’s one thing to follow her to the castle but to a bar that feels more personal ?!!

Wait , no . This is just a coincidence . A coincidence that he happens to be here . Besides , he doesn’t have anything else to look at that seems interesting in the bar so it isn’t that bad if he’s resting his eyes on her , right ?

The little pawn on the stool seems to slouch a bit more and the most interesting thing happens . He heard a giggle . It was a small one but he caught it .

And then there was another and another . It was so loud , how come the other patrons aren't hearing this ? This , this soft giggling pawn that’s drinking her sorrows away ?

This miniscule pawn that tried to defend the king and show the papers to the judge before clumsily losing them in her small hands ? This meek pawn that tried to have a say when he cut her words so easily with the truth ? This tiny pawn that he can so easily throw out the window by a simple yank ? Thi-

“Phe hehe hee !”

This small pawn that he’s hearing her softly giggle as she fiddled a cup with her small hands ? This pawn’s voice that’s so meek that you have to kneel on her level to hear ? This small pawn that’s waist he can easily envelop with his one hand…

What is he thinking ?!!

It must be the whisky , there is no way he’s thinking properly with the alcohol in his system right now . He can’t . It’s not logical to be thinking this way right now without something tampering his brain .

He would never feel such a thing , especially at a little pawn known as Mei-Lyn .

“Whatchu doing here all alone , little miss ?”

…oh , it appears in just a quick moment he has looked away , someone already approached her . That’s not good . The guy that asked her… his vibes are off .

Like bad news kind of off .

Like he would…

He just blinks and before he knows it , he’s sitting beside her and giving a sharp glance at the guy . He knows his appearance can be intimidating to many and the guy that looked at her funny earlier quickly backed off before apologizing . 

Psh , more like a baby’s mumble actually .

Mei-Lyn however , turns around to see what caused the guy to chicken out and he can help but sweat under her eyes .

Wait , this wasn’t on the plan ! He was supposed to be sitting on his side of the bar and not interact with her right now !

The only thing his brain told him to do now is to do the right thing .

Shyly look away and hide behind his glass of whiskey .

This is embarrassing .

In court earlier , she was the one looking away from his gaze and now he is the one lowering his head from her eyes .

“Oooh , I've never seen you here before ? Are you new here ?”

…ah , she’s drunk ! Thank god for the alcohol in her system .

“Ah , oh , yes . I am very new here !”

He’s floundering , why is he floundering ?!!

“Psh , you’re lucky then . This place serves the best alcohol in town .”

He knows that , he usually investigates places he’s new at to be more prepared . Too bad there aren't any book guides on this situation .

“Been drinking here since I was at legal age , actually so I’m practically a regular and your senior here .” She gave a small wink at the end that almost caught him off guard .

“Senior , in drinking ?”

Hilarious , he can see why she can be a jester in the first place .

She gives a small hum of agreement before pouring herself a cup of wine and downing it at one go . He thought she was going to pour herself another when she actually surprised him by downing the whole bottle empty in barely a few seconds .

“...don’t you think you’ve been drinking too much ? Like too much wine ?”

He counted that there were at least more than three bottles of wine in front of her right now . How is she going to walk herself back home ?

She glances at him before giving a small pout as if she’s teasing him . 

“Aww , pretty stranger worrying over little old me ?”

He blinked before a blush started coming up to his face as he processed over what she said . Did she just ? It must be so funny as she clutched her stomach and laughed at him .

“Psheheh , oh god ! You should have seen your face ! Kidding , kidding , don’t be mad , I’m jesting ! You should have seen me during one of the King’s parties . People congratulate me as if I ran a marathon over the village .”

“Let me guess ?” He simply offered his glass out , before a waiter poured him another , feeling a bit amused by her drunken demeanor right now .“ You drank a king sized wine bottle and everyone applauded you .”

For a second , his heart felt like it stopped beating when she gave him a small smile . “ Woah , aren’t you right at the nose ? If you were a lawyer , you'd definitely win the big cases .”

He can’t help but tug on his collar a bit to breathe better right now . 

“Well , you can say that …”

Feeling a bit awkward on his stool , he took a sip out of his cup of whiskey to calm his nerves . He can’t believe he’s intermingling with her right now . He later heard a small yawn and a babble before it ended up a small thunk on the table .

Taking a look at her , he noticed that she had conked out on the table . So much for high tolerance . The lighting however highlighted her ruffled hair softly . There’s signs of it being pulled by small hands . Hands that he notices are hers . 

Hmm , must be a bad habit that she used as a coping mechanism . He gently pulled her hands out of her hair , having a bit of a feel of it despite wearing gloves .

…scoff , must be the expensive shampoo she used . That’s why it’s so soft and fluff despite being pulled down by her own actions .

“She always does that after having her 10th bottle .”

A gruff voice came out as someone he suspected as the bar owner . Old and having a little beard , the old man gives a warm smile through his eyes . 

Don’t worry , we have a little room for her when she does this .”

The old man chuckled when he looked confused at him.

“The old wife is quite fond of her so she always keeps her tucked in the guest room that we have at our side of an inn . Not too far , just beside this very oldie building . Your friend ?”

The old man pointed at her head when he realized that he’s still holding her hand earlier . How long has it been…

“We’re acquaintances at best .” He let go of her hand before dusting it off like it was nothing . 

He should go .

Downing his glass at one go and paid his bill, he already stood up when he recognized something akin to a shiver on Mei-Lyn . The night is going cold and that dress ain’t going to give much for her . Logically he doesn’t need to but a simple blink and he recognized his one hand putting his coat over her already .

…nevermind that . This night becomes one too many every time he blinks .

“Sir , please tell her to give back my coat the moment she wakes up from sleep tomorrow . Thank you .”

The old man is giving him a knowing look that’s making him feel uneasy in his boots and he wanted to run off but that would be rude right now . He simply gave a small tip of his hat before walking away . 

The night felt cold the moment he walked out the doors of the bar but for some reason…his face feels hot .

Like embarrassingly hot .

What could it be ?

Must be the whisky . 

Everybody , please give your thoughts . I would really like to know how did I do .

Also , haha , I got a Carnival Ragatha Carnival oneshot that features a reader interacting with her that I might post if there's any people interested ?

#Piece by Piece #Weiss #Mei-Lyn #fanfiction

[spadecentral]

📜 The Kingdom of Hearts [TWST Fantasy AU]

! requested: no ! a/n: im just silly

! masterlist: twst fantasy au ! summary: you're introduced to the first of seven kingdoms ! reader prns: n/a ! warning(s): mentions of death/accidental murder

The Kingdom of Hearts was one of the best places to live. That was, in terms of the people who lived there. The city was always lively and the townsfolk were always bustling around, greeting everyone and idly chatting with one another. But the rules were so strict that they practically held you in a chokehold the moment you stepped onto its land. The Rosehearts family–the family which had held the throne for hundreds of years–had made 810 laws for the citizens to strictly act by. Guards dressed in metal suits were posted at every other block, as well as all around the town square to make sure that the people were doing what they were supposed to.

The royal family was made up of the King, Queen, and their son, Prince Riddle. On special occasions, they would visit the towns, such as the birth of their son, or the marriage of the King and Queen. Rarely would the royal family ever be seen in public other than that. Most of the time when the Royal Family needed something, they would send a letter.

But on the rare chance that there was something needed within the next hour, a boy around the prince’s age would be sent out of the castle. He was easily distinguishable with his green hair and gasses. Yet, no one had the heart to talk to him. Granted, they had never seen him speak to anyone but the shop clerks to say a measly thank you. But, their inquiry about the boy would have to be put on hold until they could muster up the courage to talk to him.

There was also a poor family also living within the castle grounds. A family of four gingers, a father, two daughters, and a son. They served as court jesters in exchange for their housing and food. They are brought into the castle once a month, to face an expectant court of diplomats expecting new tricks. The more fire, the more knives, and the more dangerous stunts the better. Sometimes the people of the Kingdom of Hearts could see the jesters working on their stunts on the palace grounds, and get a free show. Of course, there are always accidents that people bear witness to. Seventeen years prior, when the family had first moved into the little shack on the grounds, they were practicing one of their stunts. Throwing knives at an apple above someone's head. The people watched as the knife flew right into the woman’s head, killing her almost instantly. The baby screamed ear-piercingly loud. No one would ever forget that day.

Many people from the Kingdom of Hearts opt to become adventurers, to get away from the strictness set in place. Those people are essentially outcasted from the kingdom, their birth certificates shredded and their belongings burned. Such extreme measures were taken because to rid yourself of the rules is utter insanity, in the royal’s eyes. They deem anyone that disobeys the laws as people who have committed treason. If any adventurer would like to step foot back on the grounds of the kingdom, they would have a hard time doing so, because of the knights placed everywhere. And if they do somehow make it in, they should always have a place or two that they can inhabit, for guards are always vigilant when looking for them.

On top of the family’s ever-growing tyranny, the country had been at war with the Kingdom of Thorns for over 20 years. With having an organized military, comes a major responsibility. Although maybe not have the strongest knights, the Kingdom of Hearts is able to keep its men strong and lean, with its tough rules and their strong regimens.

Constantly at war with other countries, it is only a matter of time before the Kingdom of Hearts is at war with itself.

! taglist: @tulipluvlettr | @ghost-hyacinth | @oseathepebble | @ventisaircurrent | @epelys | @pastelmages | @xphantasmagoriax | @atlasnessie | @divinesapph | @ze-maki-nin | @ruggiethethuggie | @v-anrouge

#twst fantasy au #twisted wonderland fantasy au #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #cater diamond #deuce spade #ace trappola #twst #twisted wonderland #twst disney #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland disney

[edwardsparkleblood]

What Are We Now, if Anything at All

Fandom: Pirate101

Relationships: Catbeard/Ratbeard

Word count: 3,155

Rating: T (could maybe be considered G, but raised it up to T because kissing)

Tags: Gay, very gay, awkward moments + awkward kissing, pirates, circus shenanigans, love/hate relationship

Summary:

When a traveling circus comes to port regal, the crew comes up with a plan to swipe that circus' gold. Ratbeard and Catbeard are chosen to infiltrate the circus while disguised as performers, but they quickly find themselves in an awkward situation after making the other performers believe they are actually a married couple.

A/N: Written around pride month but only recently got around it posting it online. You can find my continued work on Ao3 under E_SparkleBlood

-

Ratbeard and Catbeard hurried across the grounds and ducked down near what they assumed were the circus' changing tents.

None of the circus performers were nearby, so that was good. Probably because they were in the middle of a performance right now. The sounds of drums and shouts from a wild event were coming from the much larger tent nearby.

Catbeard opened the bag he was carrying and quickly passed its contents over to Ratbeard, who looked like he was having second thoughts about putting on such funny looking attire. But he stepped inside one of the tents none-the-less.

Every couple months around this time, Port Regal hosts an extravagant traveling circus group, for it's moderately wealthy citizens. The circus group is well known, as is the amount of gold they are able to swindle out of the people of port regal. Especially among pirates. However, no pirate crew in the skyway would dare risk stealing from them as Port Regal is so often heavily guarded.

But one pirate crew is going to take that dare.

"Hurry up, Ratbeard. You big, lout." Catbeard whispered to himself. He peaked out from behind the corner to keep watch, and then ducked back down as 2 circus performers exited the large circus tent. The larger of the two was a tiger dressed as a clown with a red nose, and a frilly neck piece. The other, probably a knife thrower if Catbeard had to guess, just based one on all the knives attached to his leg, was a tall lanky wharf rat. They seemed to just be stretching and taking a smoke break. Thankfully, they didn't seem to have any intention on coming over here.

"I don't think it's gonna fit!" Ratbeard said from behind the curtains of the changing tent.

"Well make it fit." Catbeard replied.

Catbeard sat in the grass and let out a breath. Their mission was to infiltrate the circus and find whatever money box or safe the circus folk were keeping their gold in. The rest of the crew waited down by the docks for the perfect getaway. Catbeard wished so much he could have been down there instead, and that Bonnie Anne or Hawkulese had taken his spot instead. After a lot of arguing amongst the crew it was decided that a 2 man team would be the best way to pull the heist off, and that it would be Ratbeard and Catbeard who would be going under cover. This was decided because Ratbeard was the only one who could fit in the clown costume, and because Catbeard... Well, he pulled the short stick, so he was forced to tag along.

Catbeard and Ratbeard did not make for suitable partners. They butt heads more than anyone else in the crew. If their personalities had to be compared to anything, it would be that of oil and water. Which was a shame because visually Ratbeard was quite attractive, Catbeard thought. His handsome face couldn't be denied, but it just had to be contrasted by the most unattractive and quarrelsome personality.

Ratbeard emerged from the tent after just a few minutes, nervously clutching at the vibrant fabric of his waistband he walked. He struggled to keep it up as he waddled.

Seeing Ratbeard in full getup made the two realize pretty quickly that the attire suited more a court jester than a circus performer. But it was all they could get their hands on in time. The circus was only going to be in the port for one more evening, after all, so they had to hope nobody would pay them too much mind.

"Arr, this be a disaster in the making. I feel ridiculous." Ratbeard said.

Ratbeard really did look rather goofy, especially with the white and red makeup, and the black teardrop under where his left eye would be if he still had it. His costume was a riot of mismatched colors and his crusty old pirate hat that he's so attached to had even been replaced with a harlequin style hat with oversized bells. Although, the tights suited his round form quite well, Catbeard thought... When they weren't slipping off. He'd never say that out loud of course. It would give the rat too much self-esteem, and his ego was already grandiose enough.

"You LOOK ridiculous. But it won't be a disaster as long as you play your cards right" Catbeard said. He turned his body away. "Which does worry me. Have you ever played any cards right in your life?"

"Have at least some faith in me, why don't ya!!!" Ratbeard shouted. He immediately ducked his head down as the tiger and wharf rat turned their attention to the pair, and so he continued talking to Catbeard in a whisper. "If ye really think I can't pull it off, let's switch. The role of a fool is more fit for you than it is me."

Catbeard looked appalled that Ratbeard would even suggest such a thing.

"Those clashing colors? As if I'd ever be caught dead wearing that."

"Now what's going on of here? You two having a lil' scuffle or somethin'?" A gruff voice came from over Catbeard's shoulder.

Catbeard turned to see the tiger leaning against a pillar, and the wharf rat making his way over as well. Up close Catbeard could tell they would both look rather menacing if they weren't in such colorful attire.

"Uh, no, no. No dispute going on here. We're fine." Catbeard said, animating his hands a bit too much to be natural.

"What are you doing out here when the show's ago?" Asked the wharf rat. Then he turned his attention to Catbeard. "And you're not even in costume."

"Ah- ha! Just gettin' ready, I was! I had a new fit tailored for me and it took a bit longer to get done than it should have!" Ratbeard said. Then he turned to Catbeard, Catbeard heard Ratbeard gulp.

His heart was probably racing. Expecting Catbeard to come up with a quick cover story for himself. Ratbeard was about to open his mouth again, however before the rat could say anything, Catbeard stepped forward, his voice wavering with nervousness.

"I'm his husband!" Catbeard declared, surprising even himself with those words.

"Husband?!" Ratbeard shouted. His face was flushed with a tint of red.

"We're here to enjoy the circus together." Catbeard continued, placing his hand on his heart. "I mean- I wanted to come. I'm usually so busy you see, that I rarely get to see my dear... Norrington... at work." A bead of sweat trickled down his cheek. Ratbeard really didn't look like a Norrington, but it was the only name he could think to say.

The circus performers exchanged intrigued glances, seemingly accepting the explanation. Yet, they looked to Ratbeard, expecting some confirmation. Ratbeard had to act quickly to keep up the charade.

"'Tis true! He's my... hu-hu-husband!" Ratbeard mustered a blush and wrapped an arm around Catbeard's waist, and Catbeard was pulled uncomfortably close. "Been married for..."

"-For 3 years now. Today is our anniversary, in fact!" Catbeard interrupted, placing a hand on Ratbeard's chest. Ratbeard's eye twitched in annoyance at Catbeard adding more layers to this lie than necessary.

The circus performers grinned mischievously.

"Well, well, aren't you two just the sweetest couple!" the wharf rat of exclaimed

"I must say, it's not every day we see two guys so open about such a relationship. I almost don't even believe it. I wanna see how genuine this love of yours is." the tiger added with a chuckle.

Catbeard's eyes widened with apprehension, realizing where this was heading. Catbeard and Ratbeard exchanged desperate glances. Without giving himself time to overthink it, Ratbeard leaned in. Catbeard's heartbeat quickened then came to a sudden halt as Ratbeard pressed their lips together in a brief, chaste kiss.

It was meant to be a simple act, just a means to keep up the ruse, but Catbeard couldn't help but feel a jolt of... something. The was a warmness to said "something", and for a second the spiral itself and everything in it seemed to have frozen in place.

As Ratbeard pulled away, the spiral came to life ones more. Catbeard's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and surprise. The tiger nodded in approval, seemingly satisfied with their display of affection, and the wharf rat just laughed.

"Ah ha-ha, young love! You two are adorable together," the wharf rat commented with a knowing grin, wiping a tear away.

The tiger rustled the fur on Catbeard's head. "We're just messin' with ya. But keep that rat of yours close. One who can make a move like that without judgement is a real keeper."

The circus performers moved on and Ratbeard removed his hand from Catbeard's waist after realizing it still lingered there. Catbeard covered his face with his hands, his face was flushed, giving him a pink glow.

"I... wasn't thinking when I kissed ya. What I mean to say is I wasn't planning on it happenin'." Ratbeard stammered, his voice barely above a whisper as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"But it happened." Catbeard's voice came out muffled.

"It's yer fault! What were ye thinking just claimin' me as yer husband like that?!"

"I was nervous..." Catbeard's removed his hands from his face but immediately looked away, trying to hide his vulnerability.

"Well...," Ratbeard nudged at Catbeard's side and continue "Least ye got the best damn kiss ye could ever get in the spiral."

"Oh, please. I've rather kiss a bumbaloons backside!" Catbeard rolled his eyes.

But as Ratbeard walked forward to enter the much larger performance tent, Catbeard brought his hand up to his mouth. He felt a mix of relief and confusion. Relief of course that the awkward situation was over, and confusion over... Well, he couldn't quite explain it. A kind of emotion that he couldn't deny if he tried his hardest.

-

Catbeard and Ratbeard successfully made it into the circus tent. One kid who was with his mother pulled Ratbeard aside and asked him to juggle, which Ratbeard tried to do, but failed humorously. The kid was quite young though and laughed. Ratbeard stumbling over himself probably made for a more entertaining and memorable moment for the kid, than in Ratbeard had actually succeeded. Catbeard couldn't hold back a smile when Ratbeard even pushed himself to make a goofy face at the end. Now THAT was a sight to behold.

Catbeard grabbed Ratbeard by the arm before telling the mother and child pair that they must be off to get ready for the next performance. "Well, well, well, so you like children?" Catbeard asked.

Ratbeard grumbled. "Don't think too hard on it. The kid gave me stuff to throw in the air, so I did it."

"Well I think it's admirable. The great captain Ratbeard has at least one soft spot." Ratbeard no doubt thought Catbeard was just teasing him, but Catbeard was truly and genuinely surprised to find a quality in the rat that he liked.

"...The face you made was rather cute." Catbeard continued, but this time in such a tone to convey that he was just teasing now.

"Okay, okay, enough of this. We're done talking." Ratbeard said waving a hand, and using his other to pull his hat down over his eyes.

They were done talking, but only because they got to the back of the tent that held all sorts of things, from supplies for the performers, to lights, tools, and extra costumes. This is where the gold they collected from this evenings attendees will be located. Catbeard and Ratbeard split up. Ratbeard moving the heavier supplies around, and catbeard going through whatever box he could find.

Ratbeard scratched at his long beard. "Hey, I, uh..."

"Less talking, more looking." Catbeard said while sticking his head down into a tiny crawl space.

"I can do both ya know." Ratbeard said, heaving as he moved a large dresser and knocking it on it's side. So Ratbeard continued. "I wanted to... say... Well, I'm sorry okay? For just... kissin' you like that. Back there."

"Oh... Right." Did Ratbeard just show empathy? No way. Absolutely not. Catbeard must be imagining things. Discovering 2 positive qualities from RATBEARD in a single day, that's just un-heard of in the Spiral."

"Well, It wasn't as bad as I imagined it would be." Catbeard said, his back still turned to the other.

Ratbeard folded his arms and leaned on a colorful table.

"... So ye have imagined what it'd be like to kiss me?" Ratbeard smirked.

Catbeard choked on those words that weren't even his. He would be lying if he said no. Maybe he could just "Sure.". It's not like it'd be a declaration of undying love. There is a stark difference between lust and love after all. And Catbeard isn't so narcissistic that he'd play dumb and say the rat pirate wasn't at least somewhat attractive.

But there is also the underlying thought that was clouding Catbeard's mind. Was Ratbeard simply teasing or flirting? The tone in Ratbeard's voice was unique to say the least. There was something to it he's never quite heard of before, so he decided to play along. Come what may. That's what they say, right? Catbeard got to his feet and leaned against a cabinet, mirroring Ratbeard's posture.

"Perhaps... once or twice," Catbeard confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. His cheeks felt warm. "My mind has a habit of wandering into all sorts of hypothetical situations..."

A flicker of mischief danced in Ratbeard's eyes as he got up from the table and walked over to Catbeard.

"D-don't let it flatter yourself." Catbeard turned his head to the exit, as if planning an escape route, to run away in sheer embarrassment if it gets to be too much. "A pretty face means nothing when the one who wears it is so unpleasant to be around."

"Ye think I'm pretty?" Ratbeard asked.

He removed his goofy hat with the bells and tossed it in box full of other costumes and props, than wrapped his hands around Catbeard's waist and pulled him in close. Well, this solidified to Catbeard that he was indeed flirting, at least. His gaze met Ratbeard's.

"I also said you're unpleasant." Catbeard said.

"Aye, but also pretty?" Ratbeard asked once again.

Typical Ratbeard. List twenty problems you have with him and one redeeming quality, and he will focus only on the one till the end of days. So Catbeard gave in. "Yes... Pretty..." Catbeard said.

Ratbeard leaned in close, making it clear exactly what he wanted, but Catbeard was not about to be on the recieving end for the 2nd time today. This time it would be him making the move. Catbeard pushed himself forward, meeting Ratbeard halfway, who seemed taken aback at first. He took a step back, before going back in and letting their lips touch.

The wild sounds of the circus seemed to fade into the background and all Catbeard could pay attention to was the warmth of Ratbeard's lips. Ratbeard entwined his fingers, sealing Catbeard in the embrace and deepening the kiss, leaving Catbeard to bring his own hands up and caress Ratbeard's waist.

And then there was one more thing he started to feel. That same confusion from earlier in the day. The first time they kissed, this confusion swirled around in Catbeard's head. And so Catbeard chose to ignore it, after. To shut it down. But this time he had completely surrendered to it.

Finally breaking the kiss, Catbeard stared into ratbeard's emerald green eyes. Unsure of what to say, he chose not to say anything until Ratbeard spoke first.

"Better than a bumbaloons behind?" Ratbeard grinned.

Catbeard softly chuckled.

"It was better than the first time, I'll give you tha-" Catbeard cut himself off and pushed Ratbeard to the side before rushing over to one corner of the tent.

"Hey! What was that for?!" Ratbeard shouted, almost tripping. "Almost made me trip on me peg leg, ye did!"

Ratbeard was almost envious of whatever it was that was more important to Catbeard at this moment, but once his eyes caught what exactly Catbeard saw, he rushed over there too.

Catbeard pulled out a wooden box with red trimming, burried between colorful ribbon. With a knife Catbeard pulled out of his boot, he was easily able to break the rusty lock. H elifted it open to reveal quite a lot of gold. Probably a weeks worth of gold the circus had earned from their shows.

"Well, nice goin', Cap'n kitty! I think we have what we came for!" Ratbeard said. He took a handful of gold and flipped a coin in the air before shoving the handful into his pocket.

"What do you think you're doing?! Give that back, the gold is for the whole crew!" Catbeard shouted. He chased Ratbeard around in circles before Ratbeard playfully shoved him away, and this time it was Catbeard who almost tripped over himself.

"Ah come on. They won't be missin' just a couple pieces o' gold." Ratbeard shut the lid of the box with his hooked hand before giving a devilish look. "Besides, we're gonna be gettin' a room tonight, right? Somewhere fancy? Just the two of us, as celebration for a job well done? ...Preferably with thick walls?" That last bit was topped off with a sly wink.

Catbeard blushed. "That kiss earlier wasn't simply an attempt for you to get lucky for one night, was it?"

"Oh please, cap'n kitty. If anyone is lucky, it's you. Now let's get out o' this musty place. The crew is waitin."

Ratbeard turned and started to walk away, and Catbeard followed after shoving the box of coins into the bag that once held Ratbeard's jester attire.

Catbeard stared at Ratbeard's back. He wondered what they were now, if they were anything at all. He felt like not much had changed between them, but at the same time some kind of door opened, deep in his soul. Or perhaps heart would be a better word. They should talk about this, and they will. Catbeard will make sure of that. Catbeard lifted his head to catch himself falling behind and sped up to match Ratbeard's pace.

As they exited the tent the two performers gave them a wave and Catbeard waved back. He slung the bag over his shoulder and Instinctively, probably to keep up that little performance from earlier, grabbed hold of Ratbeard's hand. Ratbeard entwined his fingers around Catbeard's without skipping a beat, and then it dawned on him just how much larger larger Ratbeard's hands were compared to his own.

"Yer paw is pretty soft, y'know that?" Ratbeard said.

Yeah... They will definitely talk about this. Definitely. Catbeard cemented all these memories in his mind, ready to relive them when that talk comes. But it will have to be for another time.

#pirate101 #p101 #ratbeard #catbeard #pirate101 ratbeard #pirate101 catbeard #p101 catbeard #p101 ratbeard #my art

[magic-hcs]

hebrbehfhed how about the horrortale bros with a goofy ass bestie that has the outlook of "I am the court jester, I will make it funny" along with the self preservation of a rock

Omg love writing this one!

Warnings: mention of blood, mention of panic attack and trauma,

I swear it’s a funny cute story even though it has these warnings, it’s not angst I swear!

Bear: HT Sans

Bean: HT Papyrus

If you like what you read please consider dropping a comment.

Time to cast some magic and see what we’ll get!✨

✨✨

Bear: This poor cuddle bear has a hard time keeping up. He adores you and your pranks but please slow down and don’t hurt yourself. Luckily both Bear and Bean can handle a little amount of blood so there’s that.

Bear not only got snacks in his hoodie pockets now, he also got bandaids, disinfectant spray and wipes in the hoodie pockets. This boy will worriedly follow you around whenever you decide to go put a new prank or joke into action. Only participating when he’s 100% sure it’s safe and won’t bring you any harm. Otherwise, the moment he sees it going wrong he’s scooping you up and taking you away.

You are forbidden to use knives when you are in your ‘jester mood’ - it’s a nickname both brothers had endearingly given to your habit of making anything a scene straight out of a comedy movie - only being allowed to use them when you swear you’re not going to do anything with it except to cut what you’re supposed to cut. Which you really do, because come on, are you really going to do such things knowing it could give these boys a panic attack, or worse trigger their traumas? I think not!

Bear likes and enjoys your jokes or Shenanigans the most when they are harmless and leave food out of it. Like that one time the two of you were at a library and you called out to Bear in excitement. Bear had to steel himself for the worst case scenario, keeping one hand in his hoodie pocket he turned to you. Only to be pleasantly surprised by you wearing an open book on your head. Exclaiming that you’ve found a great hat.

That made Bear chuckle out loud, and he didn’t complain as you gave him a book hat as well.

✨✨

Bean: Save his poor soul. He looks calmer than Bear at handling your jester mood, but internally he’s just as if not more worried than his dear brother.

Bean is very quick to establish ground rules about what you may do when either him or Bear are around. He can’t force you to keep yourself safe when you aren’t visiting or hanging out, but that doesn’t stop him from emphasizing to take care and try not to cause too much trouble whenever you part ways. Keeps an eyelight on you whenever all of you decide to go somewhere. He’ll be the first to dive in and keep you from climbing the fence of the hippo enclosure because you want to help feed them.

Give this poor boy a break because he has to both aid Bear with his daily struggles, take care of himself and keep you out of trouble.

Bean does really like the jokes and shenanigans you get into that won’t deliver him a panic attack. Like that one time you had sent him and Bear a picture of you at your very serious school reunion dressed as a real jester. You’re a joy to have around, as long as you don’t get yourself into too much trouble that is.

✨✨

✨✨

Thank you for participating in this spell, I hope it was to your satisfaction!

#magical prompts #undertale #undertale hc #papyrus #sans #horrortale #horrortale sans #horrortale papyrus #ht sans #ht papyrus #bear #bean #undertale x reader #horrortale x reader #horrortale sans x reader #horrortale papyrus x reader #platonic

[jestroer]

I am on a roll

#it is. one am the same as yesterday #something is happening to me this weekend #hermitcraft #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #court jester's art #court jester's dress moment #hermits in dresses! #the sillies #the funnies #im like. i work on other stuff rn but im like i NEED to make this one silly thing or i die #you know how it is #hermitshipping #mumscar #redscape #scarbo

[a-palemoon-sliver]

Yandere nobleman scenario (gender-neutral reader) warning: rape/non-con

I recently started reading a novel written in the early 1600s, which got me thinking about what a crap time the 16th and 17th centuries were in European history. There are wars all the time, cities are crammed and filthy with bad air and sewage often running in the streets, nobles are more powerful and more entrenched than they were in the Middle Ages and are able to flaunt the law, vagabonds and errant soldiers are constantly harassing people, the list goes on.

Now imagine you, a person of the modern age, are suddenly transported back to this time and place. Perhaps you land in Italy, which is a slew of independent city-states including duchies, counties, and republics, some of which are ruled over by France or Spain. You land in the countryside and wander around for a while. You stop at a peasants’ cottage to ask where you are, and they tell you. Strange, you think, this isn’t anywhere near where you live. You ask what year it is, and they tell you. Good God, you have no idea how this happened. You ask for hospitality for the night, and they agree, giving you space on the floor to lie down.

In the morning, they taking you to be a wandering vagrant, they suggest you go to the local castle to ask for work, and point you the way. There you head. You arrive just as a violent form of punishment is being carried out on some hapless man in the courtyard. Horrified, you rush up and ask the torturer what he’s doing. You try to get him to stop, and a booming voice asks you what you’re doing. A man resplendently dressed strides up, whom you take to be the head honcho around here, and he glares at you. Sensing you’ve gotten yourself in trouble, you try to explain that it seemed cruel and inhumane. The man eyes your modern clothes, so strange to him, and asks who you are and what you’re doing here. You introduce yourself and say hesitantly that you were hoping for work. The man glares at you for a moment, then orders the punishment halted. He lets the man go, ordering him never to return. Then he turns to you and says “Come with me”. You follow. Unknown to you, he thinks of you “Ah, a wandering spiritualist. Good, I needed a new jester to entertain me.”

You are guided by the important gentleman, and another who seems to be an assistant or servant of some kind, into a large and expensively-decorated room. He sits, and motions for you to sit as well. You do, acting on your best behavior. The important man introduces himself as the Duke who rules over the area, and the assistant is his Chamberlain. He asks where you come from. You tell him he wouldn’t know of it. He gets angry and demands an answer. You tell him, chagrined, that you’re from the future. He stares, then laughs. You shrink into yourself. The duke collects himself, then says “You seem to be gently bred. If you wish to be a servant in my palace, you may have any position you wish, but I would like to offer you the role of being court fool.” Taken aback, you quickly tell him you aren’t funny, but he says “You’re interesting. For now, that is enough. I urge you to accept.” After a moment, you accept. “Good,” he says, smiling. What can he say? He’s been so bored these days. And, if you should cease to be diverting, he can always assign you to the kitchens.

You’re given a small room near the servants’ quarters but apart from it. You are shown the way by the Chamberlain, who gives you a short tour of the castle from top to bottom. You will be expected to rise early in the morning, “later than the other servants but earlier than the Duke”, so that you may be already awake and at his disposal if he wants you on waking. Your tasks are simple and few but you are to accompany him throughout the day, except when he wishes for privacy. It’s simple enough to understand. You’re given a fresh change of clothes, and then led back to the Duke’s quarters, where he bids you to sit down before the desk he’s seated at. “So, tell me about the future. What is it like?” You don’t know where to begin. You list a few obvious things, like buildings that stretch upward for dozens of storeys, airplanes that fly through the air, and cars that drive without horses. He eyes your new clothes, now old-fashioned ones like everyone else’s. “And are those clothes you were wearing earlier typical?” he asks, frowning. To him, you had appeared to be wearing only underwear which had been dyed to look like outer garments. “Yes,” you say. You hadn’t thought about your clothes. “Interesting,” he says.

And so you accompany the Duke through the following days and weeks, keeping him company and answering his questions as best you can. Rather than a “licensed fool”, who can be relied on for jokes and witty banter, you are deemed a “natural fool”, someone who’s a little different in the head from most people and is kept for their frank, honest answers. You’re not entirely clear on the difference, but you’re just relieved you don’t have to crack jokes all the time. You’re not that funny. He asks you about the future you come from; no matter what he asks, you always have an answer ready for him. At first this amuses him, for he thinks you glib; then it increasingly annoys him, for he’s tired of the charade. He’s never once actually believed you come from the future, instead believing you must be a wandering religious figure, tormented by visions of God and devils. You might be a future saint, he thinks, or perhaps just a nutcase. He questions you often on morality, and figures you must be from a spiritual, idealistic religious order of some sort. Eventually he resigns himself to your tall tales, and he keeps you on. Other than your strange tales of some future time period, you seem like a normal, sensible person, except for being exceedingly sheltered and naive. “How little you know of the world, and of how it works,” he thinks of you.

But the more you talk to the Duke, the more he’s intrigued by you. He posits hypothetical scenarios to you, and asks you how you would resolve them. Your answers, normal for the softer time you come from, seem hopelessly naive and unrealistic to the Duke, yet strangely beautiful. More and more to him you seem like a white dove, simple and trusting yet pure in spirit. Ah, how the nuns or friars of your order have filled your head with dreams and nonsense. At your answers, the Duke frequently lets a smile play at his lips, but he’s too polite to say out loud what you know he’s thinking. Unknown to you, the Duke is a cruel, sadistic, cunning man, as all successful nobles are, one who knows how to play the game of society, and who gets everything he wants. Early in childhood he was schooled in life’s harsh realities, and he proved to be a natural at scheming against and destroying others. He didn’t amass the power he wields by showing his enemies mercy. He’s destroyed noble families, he’s poisoned enemies and trod on their corpses. He’s lied and cheated and double-crossed, he’s dragged people through the mud just because he can. He turns a blind eye when those who work for him harass the peasants and townspeople as long as they’re not too loud about it. All noblemen in his time period are wolves, and he’s a wolf among wolves. But you, you are different from everyone he’s ever known. You are so guileless, so innocent, so trusting. You haven’t even guessed that most of the scenarios he’s posited are deeds he’s committed. He extended no more than a place to stay and an offer of friendship and you took it willingly, never asking for a catch, never asking for anything more. The wolf has befriended the dove.

And you enact a change in him. Where before he’d scoff at your softheartedness, now he’s moved by it. You seem so perfectly pure and good that he can’t help but want to emulate you. Want to see through your eyes. Want to act in ways you’d be proud of. He stops shy of feeling regret for his previous actions, but he wants to be a better man moving forward. A holy warrior. He starts meting out punishments to those soldiers and employees who harass innocent people. He puts away the torture devices and starts treating minor lawbreakers with appropriately minor punishments. He stops wanting power for its own sake and starts wanting power for the sake of making a difference in people’s lives for the better. He feels a spiritual awakening in him, all thanks to you. You, the One of God who wandered into his life, how he wants to please you! How he wants to keep you near him! You, however, know none of this, safely sheltered in his palace, safely kept away from all inconvenient information by his Chamberlain and many servants. What you know instead is an increase of favor from the Duke. He buys you expensive clothing. He invites you to dine with him at every meal. He moves you into a bigger, more lavish room close to his own. He takes you with him whenever he travels on business. You are never apart from him except when you sleep, and once or twice now he’s offered to bridge even that gap. You’ve turned him down so far, and so far he’s accepted your decision by pretending he never offered in the first place. You’re not sure why you’d turn him down. Not old nor young, he’s in the prime of his life, and is handsome, tall and broad-shouldered with dark, curly hair and a neat, trim beard, with neat, regular facial features and dark eyes that glitter intelligently. All the same, there is a look in his eyes at times that unsettles you, makes you feel like something dark lurks beneath his placid, polite exterior. You ask the Chamberlain if the Duke has ever married. He says that once, the Duke was betrothed in childhood, but the match fell through. He later married a different young woman in a political match, but she died in childbirth, along with the baby. The Duke has not attempted to remarry in the years since then. You realize the Duke must be intensely lonely, and that you’ve become a salve to his heart. You feel a mix of flattery, tenderness, and unease at this.

When the Duke, due to one of your philosophical sparring matches, improves the working conditions for the press-gangs of slaves who row the war galleys in the navy, his political enemies and friends alike sit up and take notice. They send underlings to infiltrate the Duke’s ranks of servants and report back to them what’s happening. One of these people is a man whose family was killed by the Duke’s men. He infiltrates the palace as a servant, and finds you living there, a stranger in a strange land. He introduces himself to you as your new personal servant, and you, unsuspecting, accept him. Quickly he earns your trust. The man sends messenger pigeons back to his master reporting on the situation. Meanwhile, a war breaks out between the two main powers of this corner of the continent, and their many vassal states, including the Duke’s Duchy, are swept into the tide of war on behalf of their master nations. The Duke is called on by messengers to join the war council for the Confederation his Duchy belongs to.

The servant gets to know you, and realizes you’re unusually softhearted for the day and age. One day when the Duke is out on business, he asks why you stay with the Duke. You tell him the Duke has been endlessly kind to you. He tells you of the evils the Duke has committed against him, against everyone. As a teenager, the Duke poisoned his own older brother to secure for himself the Duchy, and his mother died of grief as a response. The Duke’s father died while he and his son were on a hunting trip together, and it’s widely rumored the accident was no accident. You, understandably, are horrified. You realize you can’t live with such a man any longer, and your servant offers to help you escape. He leaves the room to secure an exit from the palace, while you begin to pack. The Duke returns early, while you are still packing, and demands of you what you’re doing. Just then your servant comes into the room to warn you, too late. The Duke demands of him who he is. The servant remains silent. The Duke orders his soldiers to capture the man and take him to the dungeon.

“So, you thought you would leave me?” He demands of you. “After everything I’ve done for you!?” He strikes you across the face. “Fine jewels!” Strike. “Fine clothes!” Strike. “A beautiful room!” Strike. “Endless banquets!” His hand hovers in the air as he pants heavily, then he lowers it. His voice turns hoarse. “I CHANGED MYSELF! I TRIED TO BE YOUR HEAVENLY IDEAL! ALL FOR YOU!” He heaves a groan and throws you to the floor, then grabs one of your arms and drags you through the rooms of the palace to the dungeons. He puts you in a cell neighboring your servant, who dangles against the wall by his wrists, and chains you up, then steps into the other cell. “So, you thought you could take them away from me, huh?” He asks. He punches the man in the face. “My little dove?” “Stop it!” You shriek. The duke ignores you, and sends again a punch to the face.  “Take them away?” A punch to the stomach. “Well?” Another punch to the face. “ANSWER ME!” The man spits up some blood, then says “Go to hell.” The Duke leaps into the air and gives a flying kick to his rib cage. gasps and collapses, hanging limply from his chains. “Oh no,” says the Duke, “don’t collapse on me yet. We have a lot more to go through yet.” For the next hour you’re forced to listen to your servant’s screams of agony as the Duke inflicts torture after torture on him. Your cries for him to stop go unanswered. Eventually, you both pass out, you from horror and he from pain.

When you come to, you’re in your room again, on your bed, and the Duke is standing above you. He’s leering down at you. He climbs over you and begins ripping your clothes off. You try fighting him off to no avail; he’s much stronger than you imagined, and much stronger than you are. He rips your clothes off and pins you down onto the bed, and begins to have his way with you. “Pray pardon me if I’m rough, my Dove,” he rasps in your ear, nuzzling into you, “it’s been some years since I’ve had a mate.” With one hand pinning you down by the wrists, the other teases open your exposed hole. “Mmh,” he says, purring, “So red. So ripe. So ready for the plucking.” Quickly he unsheathes himself, and then he jams his length into your hole. Pain shoots through you. He settles his weight on top of you, and grabs your hands with his own and guides them down to your side, where he laces them behind your back. He shunts and shudders and shoves his way inside you, thrusting with vigor and unbridled pleasure. He captures your lips with his own, forcing kiss after kiss on you, then nuzzles his face in your neck and breathes in the delectable scent you’re emitting. You’re perfect to him. You’re soft where he’s rough, you’re pure where he’s craven, you’re giving while he’s taking. You compliment each other perfectly! How could you ever think to leave him? He shows you how foolish you were to even think of it with the love he pours into you, thick and sticky and staining white. Pent up for years, he cums buckets in your hole. He collapses onto you and pants in your ear, but he doesn’t pull out. His strong arms keep you pinned securely in his grip. Then he starts moving again. He rapes you into the night, taking you over and over again. After the second time you let it happen, and drift in and out of reality while he claims you, roughly, then tenderly, then roughly again; drifting to some hazy, far-off altered realm of consciousness. Eventually night falls, and he summons his servants to bring dinner. This is soon served, on silver platters, and the Duke picks good-looking morsels from the trays to feed to you. You refuse to eat. The Duke coos at you lovingly, and when this doesn’t work he jams the food into your mouth. You try to spit it up on reflex, but he clamps his hands around your head and jaw, holding them shut. “Chew,” he commands. Muscle memory takes over, and you stop choking and start chewing. “Swallow.” You swallow. “Good Dove.” The Duke alternates between sampling from the platters for him and for you, and takes turns feeding you both for a good twenty minutes. Then he sends the scraps away and stations soldiers outside the door. He spends the night in your room, wrapped around you, nuzzling into your neck. He makes you feel all the years of loneliness he’s felt, how desperate he must have been for companionship. And now you’re his companion, you realize. You don’t have a choice.

In the morning, you awake to the sounds of carpentry being performed. You open your eyes to find the Duke standing beside you, already dressed and finishing his toilette. He sees you awake as he dabs his hands in the basin of washing-water, and dries his hands off with a towel. His face is stern. “I am sorry, my Dove, but our time must be cut short.” You manage to utter a groggy “What?” “I am afraid I am being called away, and must attend to war. To sit on the war council, of course,” he adds quickly, worried you’d be anxious for his sake. “I won’t be on the front lines, naturally, as a man of my position.” You sit up and look around. “What are those noises?” You ask. His expression turns laughing. “Oh, that. That is, shall we say, a failsafe? You tried to leave me once already. I adore you, my Dove, but I can’t trust you not to fly away from me.” He stops talking, smiles at you, and strokes your head. He leans down and kisses you on the forehead. “I love you, my Dove,” he murmurs, dark eyes endlessly deep with sadness. “More than you can know.” Slowly, as it causes him physical pain to do so, he steps away from you, and toward the door. The heels of his shoes echo softly. The door swings open at his approach, out into the hall, and he stands beside the frame. “Oak beams are being installed on the door. Once I step through, they will be nailed in place, preventing you from leaving this room.” Effortlessly, in an instant, he steps through the doorway. Your eyes bug out of your head. Immediately you fling off the blanket and fly to the door, but it’s already shut with an echoing clack when you get to it. You shove your weight against the door, but the beam has already slid into place, and it doesn’t budge. Your bang your fists on the door. “Let me out!” You wail, “let me out let me out LET ME OUT!” The duke’s voice comes muffled through the thick oak door: “Please try to understand, my dove, I do this out of love.”

After that, no answers come to your cries, and you bang and bang to no avail. No one is going to let you out. You go to the windows and look out. The castle stands on a promontory, and you’re on an upper floor. With cliffs beneath your windows, you’re at least sixty feet above the ground, maybe much higher. Even if you tied sheets together—the bed! You race to it, and find you’ve been left only with a single heavy blanket, no sheets at all to tie together. You’re well and utterly trapped in this room, unless you want to take the extreme way out of a final jump. You’re not that desperate. Yet. You look around at the room, and go back to the door. There’s a slot cut into it, through which, presumably, meals will be served. You shove on the door again, but it doesn’t give a bit. You’re trapped, aren’t you? It begins to sink in for you. You’re trapped. There’s no way out, not from this room and not from the mess you’ve gotten yourself in. For the first time in a long time you sit on your bed and weep, and weep, and weep.

What to do? Well, there are a few books on the shelves, you can read those. When you get tired of them maybe they’ll give you more through the slot if you behave nicely. “If you behave nicely,” you think ruefully, “then what? Will the Duke come to trust me? Will he ever let me out?” You have no answer, and no way of answering. You must face it: you’re nothing more than a captive dove, in a gilded cage.

#yandere #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere nobleman #gender neutral reader

[jackiestarsister]

OUAT Rewatch: Season 4

Episode 4x01 “A Tale of Two Sisters”

~ While the inclusion of Frozen may have been a questionable direction overall, there is no denying the brilliant casting and in-character writing of Elsa and Anna. Kristoff, though, is underwhelming.

~ Regina’s light-colored outfit suggests that she is still ultimately good.

~ Regina and Robin having their conversation in the same room where they were so romantic and intimate two episodes ago is so awkward and sad.

~ I like Belle’s yellow dress in this episode much more than the one she wore when first introduced!

~ It seems that Gold gave Belle the dagger before they began their honeymoon, possibly before they even consummated their marriage. His actions in this episode seem to ring true for the image of him being “addicted” to magic, trying to quit and maybe succeeding for a while before giving in to temptation when presented an opportunity.

Episode 4x02 “White Out”

~ The episode starts with Anna knocking on someone’s door!

~ How do David and Kristoff know each other? Neither of them seem like the sort to travel much, and apparently there is an ocean between their lands. Did the rock trolls take Kristoff on a trip to the Enchanted Forest?

~ Henry is the Anna to Regina’s Elsa in this episode. Oddly enough, Emma seems to understand Regina’s point of view, because pushing away the people she cares about is her own tendency.

~ Emma and David’s conversation in the car is a sweet and realistic moment between them as father and daughter. And David talks about walls as they’re on their way to a literal wall!

~ Grumpy/Leroy’s assertion that Snow/Mary Margaret is now the ruler sounds kind of like fanservice, like the writers listened to fans who said that should be the case.

~ Where did Anna and David get their swords? He made it clear that swordfighting was not something he practiced; did she bring them with her while traveling?

~ For David to have such a detailed backstory with his father, it seems like it should have been mentioned at some point earlier in the show. It could have tied in with his insecurities about being a good father in the previous season—especially since he turned to secretly drinking in order to deal with his nerves, when drinking was what caused his father’s downfall.

~ Out of all the dwarves, why is Happy one of those spouting complaints?

~ Why isn’t Leroy using the blackout as an opportunity to sell the nuns’ candles, like in the blackout he caused in season 1?

~ Since Snow wasn’t really present in the previous episode and has a minimal role in this one, it’s nice to see her have an outburst and stick up for herself! They really shouldn’t be bothering her when she is getting used to caring for an infant for the first time.

~ Emma and Elsa’s level of connection is great, only it seems to escalate very quickly, along with Emma’s freezing.

~ When did Emma mention Henry to Elsa? Did they talk more between scenes?

~ Despite apparently being aware of her situation, Emma doesn’t seem very concerned about the fact that she is in danger of death. I would imagine her having more fear and concern about her family, asking Elsa to tell them that she loves them and that kind of thing.

~ After lamenting that Henry would not hug her earlier, Emma gets a hug from him in the end!

~ David saying that the people in their family “really don’t like to give up” is even more significant after seeing what he was like before Anna changed him!

Episode 4x03 “Rocky Road”

~ This episode’s title is pretty apt: multiple pairs of characters are on both physical and metaphorical roads.

~ The name of Ingrid’s ice cream parlor, Any Given Sundae, is not only a pun but also refers to how she gives away Marian’s ice cream.

~ Snow and David had a court jester named Rupert?! He couldn’t have worked for them very long, since they seem to have been married for less than a year before the Dark Curse was cast.

~ Regina’s outfit and hairstyle in her first scene are way more casual than anything we’ve seen her wear before! And she’s suddenly in short sleeves though just days earlier it seemed to be winter.

~ I think Operation Mongoose and Operation Cobra together allude to “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi” by Rudyard Kipling. In that story, the hero is a mongoose and the villain is a cobra. So both names refer to Regina, first to expose her as a villain, then to prove her a hero.

~ The bird painting is funny, and in line with Mary Margaret/Snow’s interests; but how is Regina so indifferent/accepting of Snow taking over her mayoral office, like she did her kingdom?

~ If they wanted Elsa to keep a low profile, the least they could do was get her some clothes from this world. Why is her only outfit the one from the movie, when this show gives so many outfits to the other characters in each world?

~ The scene of Hans and his brothers is so horribly written; the only good thing about it is that it is short. But it could have been omitted since Kristoff recaps it to Elsa.

~ How can Granny be part of the mob blaming Elsa, after everything Red/Ruby went through? If Ruby were still in Storybrooke at this point (her absence isn’t explained until later), she and Elsa could have bonded over their experiences as magical beings whose powers are spurred by fear.

~ It’s nice to see Elsa and Kristoff interact so much, since they don’t in the movie.

~ Will Scarlet must have been in Storybrooke (or elsewhere in the Land Without Magic) for some time before this curse, if he knew that blackouts were the time for a thief to go to work.

~ What was that scene with Archie about? The decent thing for him to do in that situation would have been to offer to help Mary Margaret get the carriage into the car, and/or tell her about the danger Elsa was in from the townsfolk. It doesn’t seem to me like Snow needs to let go of her newborn; what she needs is support from other people, instead of trying to handle everything about mayorhood and motherhood herself! And they gave Archie a “Let It Go” reference?!

~ Regina and David’s words to Emma, and her saying she doesn’t feel able to save anyone, seem like telling rather than showing a conflict. There’s no real support for it onscreen.

~ Elsa and Hook’s conversation is great!

~ Ingrid does the same thing to Elsa that Cora did to Regina, framing her in order to make people turn on her so she’ll think she can never have their trust.

~ Regina casually sending Henry to fetch something from her vault shows that they’ve come a long way from the time Henry almost got himself killed while sneaking in there.

~ Why is Emma at Granny’s at the end of the day? She seemed to be living with her parents again, not staying at the B&B. Did she go there to get dinner by herself, or to talk to someone?

~ Throughout the show, Hook and his acquaintances refer to his knack for survival, yet he has many close brushes with death. This kind of goes along with how the ticking crocodile, a symbol of inevitable death, stalks him in Peter Pan.

~ This episode has some good storylines in it, but there are extra scenes that make it feel scattered or convoluted. It could have been streamlined by deleting some scenes, like the ones about hunting for Elsa and Archie talking to Snow.

Episode 4x04 “The Apprentice”

~ Why is the Sorcerer’s Apprentice so old? Is there no way to graduate from that role?

~ If the Apprentice has faced other Dark Ones before, he should know that a sword would not kill them. So either his sword was enchanted, or it was just an act to stall him.

~ This is the second time anyone has asked Henry what he thinks about Emma’s love interests, and both times, he prioritizes her happiness over his own feelings. This is even more impressive now, since he just recently lost his father. With both Walsh and Hook, he encourages Emma to pursue love and happiness.

~ Did Henry go off somewhere else while Emma asked Hook out?

~ Anna in the flashbacks and Hook in the present both make deals that they shouldn’t with Rumplestiltskin.

~ What I want to know is, what did Emma and Hook talk about over dinner? Was he able to calm down enough to carry a normal conversation? What do they talk about when they’re not solving a mystery or handling a crisis? Evidently they enjoy each other’s company enough to want more of it, but it would be nice to see them connect when they have time and space to themselves.

~ The scene of Regina and Henry … doesn’t really make sense. It’s like they chose him at random to verbalize what Regina and the audience are thinking, and then she just dismisses it based on his young age.

~ The Storybrooke radio mentions Rip Van Winkle wanting music “to wake up to”!

~ Did Hook spend the whole night drinking and/or sleeping on the docks? Poor guy!

~ How would someone in the Enchanted Forest know the phrase “fully charged”? Did Rumplestiltskin have foreknowledge of this world’s technology?

~ The fact that Henry doesn’t simply ask Gold directly about the Author suggests that he does not actually trust him.

Episode 4x05 “Breaking Glass”

~ Is Emma the judge and jury for all criminals in Storybrooke? It’s a bit autocratic to have her be the one person to decide someone’s sentence, and for it to be so arbitrary.

~ When Hook says he is taking Henry sailing, he obviously doesn’t mean the Jolly Roger since he no longer has it. What kind of craft do they sail instead, and to whom does it belong?

~ I’m glad to see they at least got Elsa a decent cloak … or maybe she made it for herself with her magic, since it’s the same style as her signature dress.

~ “You screw someone over, there’s no getting them back.” This sounds contrary to some of Emma’s experience: she and Hook ended up together despite all the times they betrayed each other.

~ When did Regina and Robin have time for someone to take their picture?!

~ Josh Dallas’ character mentioning Asgard offhandedly is hilarious, since he played Fandral in Thor!

~ This episode almost feels like Frozen II in that most of the characters end up lost in the woods.

~ Lily soliciting that promise from Emma feels pretty contrived, considering they’ve only known each other for about a day. I guess the reasoning behind it was that Lily didn’t want Emma to think badly of her if they were caught and her secret was revealed.

~ “I’m going to build a snowman” never sounded so ominous!

~ It makes sense for Snow to suspect that David set up an adventure for her, because that’s exactly what he did in Episode 3x2.

~ Regina says “before it’s actually winter,” but it seemed like they were in winter just a few weeks earlier.

~ It’s great to see Sidney finally stand up to Regina’s abuse, but it happens at the least convenient time for Emma!

~ How is Elsa able to break her chains of fear so easily?

~ Part of what I dislike about Emma’s backstory with Lily is that it kind of lessens the importance/impact of her backstory with Neal. It means that Lily was the first person she was on the run with and who let her down, rather than Neal.

~ Force choking? Really?

~ It’s a bit odd that Regina’s bad feelings toward Emma are now fixated on Marian, when she had plenty of grievances prior to that.

~ What Elsa says to Emma about never giving up on people sounds like how Hook never gave up on Emma despite her friendzoning him and trying to leave.

~ “I don’t want to kill you.” “See? That’s a start.” That’s actually a great bit of dialogue, only it might have done better for an enemies-to-lovers storyline like Emma and Hook’s.

~ When did Emma learn about Will’s escape, and how did she react? I’m guessing David probably told her via text or phone call.

~ Why does Emma have her box of childhood belongings at the sheriff’s station? Is the loft too crowded with Elsa staying there?

~ Where was the box when Emma was on the run with Neal and serving time in Phoenix? Did she bring it with her to New York, or did it disappear and reappear with the curses?

~ “Reflective today, are we?” is more true than Hook realizes, considering the mirrors in this episode!

~ “I’d love to know more about your beginnings.” Funny when you know the name of their song in the musical episode!

Episode 4x06 “Family Business”

~ David said they searched Ingrid’s business and home. If Ingrid wanted Emma to find that file, why didn’t she simply leave it in her home so they would find it sooner?

~ That lacy version of Belle’s blue and white outfit is so pretty!

~ Belle is doing the same thing to Elsa about Anna that Hook did to Ariel about Eric in Episode 3x17, withholding information about a newcomer’s missing loved one because they are ashamed of what they did to them.

~ Anna’s suspicion of Ingrid is similar to Amethyst’s suspicion of Bismuth in Steven Universe: they both question why a long-lost relative was never mentioned by their family’s leader.

~ It’s a little odd how various princesses in this show meet and become friends without even mentioning to each other that they are princesses!

~ It seems that Belle learned about Rumplestiltskin’s existence and power from Anna, but Anna did not reveal his name, so Belle “did some reading” and learned more about him before returning to her home.

~ In the scene where Belle pulls out Rumple’s (fake) dagger, her scarf has a pattern of daggers printed on it!

~ Emma saying that the longest she ever stayed in a foster home was six months contradicts what she said in Episode 3x05 about counting the days in each new home until it seemed pointless.

~ Looks like Emma has had fair artistic abilities since she was a kid. Does that make art something she had in common with Milah and Baelfire?

~ Did Emma start her file of Henry’s projects in Storybrooke, or during their time in New York? The latter would probably make more sense, but the former would have been a huge sign of growth in her relationship with him.

~ Why does Belle not even tell Gold that she met Anna? He can probably piece it together since Belle mentions the hat, which Anna took from him.

~ Why does Belle need to go to the rock trolls to get her memories back? Why not find someone more local to make her a remembering potion, like the one Zelena made?

~ Watching Belle and Rumple’s scenes when she is so emotional and trusting of him is downright painful.

~ How could that heraldry record exist if the royal family wiped out all records of Ingrid’s existence?

~ Hearing Ingrid’s plan laid out at the end really makes her seem like a psychopath. Is she supposed to be mentally ill, like a stalker going after someone they’re convinced they are in love with?

Episode 4x07 “The Snow Queen”

~ The opening flashback is way too saccharine, and the dialogue in the second half is way too fast.

~ Is Regina’s vault just open for anyone to walk into now?

~ What went wrong with Emma and Elsa testing the candle? Did they mean to neutralize Elsa’s powers as a test?

~ It’s canon that Emma babysits her brother!

~ I love that the local princesses—Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Cinderella—are all in the same mother-baby group! And I love Aurora’s modern outfit!

~ Ashley making a joke out of the “Cinderella” story is a bit odd since Rumplestiltskin was the one who served the role of fairy godmother. Did she even have a pumpkin carriage?

~ The dialogue and drama in that scene is just so contrived. Up to this point, Emma hasn’t expressed anything like jealousy or anger toward her parents for wanting/having another kid. It seems random for it to come out now, without any prior setup.

~ Emma telling Elsa not to let emotions get the better of her, when she is about to do just that …

~ Emma jokingly/casually calling Ingrid “sister” really isn’t appropriate given the context!

~ I love the scene with Regina and Henry, but why has it taken this many episodes for him to begin his job in Gold’s shop?

~ Emma says her family spans three generations in 400 years. Where does that number come from?

~ David and Hook look at each other as they reach the same conclusion and realize the danger Emma is in. Like in “White Out,” they are on the same page when it comes to Emma’s safety.

~ Robin Hood missing his target? Even if it’s darts instead of archery, that’s hard to believe!

~ Robin and Will’s conversation is … interesting. It sounds like it could fit multiple characters and relationships in the show, which makes me wonder how much it needed to be them.

~ The story of how Robin and Marian met sounds like it could have been its own flashback episode.

~ Gold shows a lot of trust in Henry’s self-control. Putting that particular kid in a shop full of magical items is like having an ordinary kid watch over a candy shop!

~ Young Ingrid’s fear of hurting others doesn’t hold as much weight as Elsa’s. Ingrid is only shown losing control when a bad person was threatening her loved ones; it was self-defense. Elsa on the other hand hurt her sister because they were careless while playing.

~ Did Emma even realize that she was trapped inside the sheriff’s station? Did she not hear the others calling out to her? And why was she left to interrogate Ingrid alone, without any other witnesses or magical backup?

~ Ingrid taunting Emma is totally like Satan, playing on people’s deepest insecurities, talking them into despair. Her words are probably things Emma has thought herself, only she might not have let herself dwell on them.

~ Emma’s internal, emotional conflict about struggling to control her magic seems to come out of nowhere. She and the other characters have talked about her need to learn more about it and/or embrace it, but that has usually been about her underutilizing it, not being able to tap into it. There has been little to no setup to establish her not being able to keep it in check.

~ David pushes Hook out of harm’s way! But Snow … how could you say “Emma” in such a “how could you” tone?

~ Why is young Ingrid dressed in that over-the-top sparkly outfit in this flashback? It visually conveys her ice magic, but at that point she is still trying to suppress her powers.

~ Ingrid barely displayed any of her magic in front of Wesselton. Why does he automatically assume everyone would hate her for her magic? Do they not have any good practitioners of it in Arendelle or the surrounding lands?

~ Helga’s end is pretty horrifying. Is it supposed to have happened more quickly than Anna’s freezing because Ingrid’s powers are greater?

~ How can Gerda suddenly slap such a dehumanizing label as “monster” on Ingrid? She must realize that it was not ill will that caused the accident. Maybe Ingrid giving up the ribbons made her think Ingrid did not care as much about their bond as she once did?

~ Overall, the relationships between sisters in this show—mostly Ingrid, Helga and Gerda, but also Elsa and Anna, and Zelena and Regina—feel shallow, like they were written by men who don’t really understand the dynamics of sisterhood.

~ Robin’s conclusion, and his decision to throw his morals to the wind and go to Regina, doesn’t really make sense.

~ That shot of Ingrid admiring her magic mirror—or admiring her reflection in it, I can’t tell—isn’t needed. It would have been a more fitting transition to show Emma alone and guilty, then cut to young Ingrid alone and guilty.

~ What does “we’ve looked everywhere” mean? Even for a small town, that would be difficult to achieve and would require a coordinated search with many people.

~ This whole episode feels somewhat haphazard. Then again, so does this half of this season.

~ The absence of the usual supporting/minor characters is also noticeable. Why doesn’t Archie offer his services to help Emma work through her sudden fear of her powers?

Episode 4x08 “Smash the Mirror – Part 1”

~ It makes sense for Henry to be the one to approach Emma, have no fear of her, and even deny the significance of any injury she causes. But him running away without a word doesn’t sit right; he would have at least said something like “I’m not giving up on you.”

~ Why couldn’t Emma ask Gold for something like the cuff that neutralizes one’s magic temporarily? That would be a much better way, since she does occasionally (but with increasing frequency) need her powers in order to protect her loved ones and defeat her enemies.

~ Even if she trusts Gold now due to him being Henry’s grandfather, Emma should know better than to think he would help her without asking something in return.

~ Why is Elsa wearing her gloves (apparently given to Ingrid by Rumplestiltskin) in these flashbacks? She didn’t have them in the earlier ones.

~ Cool use of the broken mirror in the cinematography, having Anna and Elsa appear in different pieces of the glass.

~ Why is frozen Hans still intact, whereas frozen Helga disintegrated?

~ This is the second time Robin has mentioned Friar Tuck. I want to see this Merry Man! On that note: Sundays would be the least likely day of the week for a Christian to be sober, since Sunday is a day of celebration like Easter; even people who are fasting may break their fast on that day.

~ Did Hook ride in the back of David’s pickup truck while they searched for Emma? That’s kind of amusing to imagine!

~ David couldn’t have taken that picture, because he’s in it!

~ Is “Anton the Giant” an homage to Andre the Giant? If so, I approve!

~ While Emma is trying to get rid of her powers, Henry bemoans the fact that he has none. He really should have had a larger role in trying to convince her to embrace her magic rather than run from it; that has been his role ever since he came into her life.

~ What kind of queen has to sneak around her own castle? Does Elsa not have as much political/legal power as Ingrid now?

~ Hook’s phone message scene is heartbreaking, in the best way possible! His emotions are so raw, yet his integrity and good heart shine through. And I loved the way his music theme played at the end as he realizes where he has to go!

Episode 4x09 “Smash the Mirror – Part 2”

~ Does Elsa just walk in those high heels everywhere? Even over a distance most others would drive?

~ Snow and Regina’s conversation is interesting, but it feels wrong for them to be discussing that when they should be urgently searching for Emma.

~ “If you do good hoping to be redeemed, is it really good?” That’s a very good question, probably one of the better points of reflection in this show!

~ Of course Will “gets” the Evil Queen type!

~ Gold and Emma’s scene is fascinating, but also painful to watch. There’s so much vulnerability but also so much manipulation. They are much like Pan and Henry in season 3, with the villain trying to convince the hero to give up their power to them. Gold seems to be making a confession to Emma, since he thinks she won’t be around much longer. Emma actually thanks him, something she’s never done before.

~ The scene of Elsa talking down Emma and explaining the necessity of self-love is so beautiful and powerful.

~ It’s great to see Elsa being proactive and heroic, rather than just being the cause of a crisis as in Frozen and the first few episodes of this season.

~ “I’ll take that risk if you will.” That scene has way more sisterly love than all the mentions of “my sister” between Elsa and Ingrid and their respective siblings.

~ This is the second time Rumple attempts to take Killian’s heart; the first time, Milah stopped him. He also experienced Cora controlling him via his heart.

~ I don’t really buy the worldbuilding they tried to make around the storybook, but Robin and Regina’s scene in the library is quite good, especially as she says she owes Snow a quarter!

~ Emma’s smile after she makes the fireworks is so sweet: she’s proud that she was able to use her magic that way! That’s a great shot of the five of them looking up at the fireworks. The only odd thing is that Emma does not notice Hook’s absence from that lineup.

~ How could the Sorcerer’s Apprentice just conjure a doorway to the Land Without Magic? If it were that easy, why did it take Rumplestiltskin centuries to create a Dark Curse for the same purpose?

Episode 4x10 “Fall”

~ A whole episode is a pretty long time between a curse being enacted and taking effect, especially since they keep looking at the coming cloud.

~ It’s a small thing, but I like how Emma delegates everyone’s tasks, and finds one for Hook that is suited to his area of expertise.

~ What was it that caused Arendelle to thaw out in the present day, after being frozen for 30 years?

~ Gold’s words about choosing himself over everyone else sounds exactly like Hook’s attitude up until the end of season 2. That probably makes it even more detestable to Hook, because it reminds him of how he used to be.

~ This episode totally rehashes the stakes and twist of the season 2 finale, where the heroes have to decide whether to risk the town to save one person, and someone does a sleight-of-hand/bait-and-switch passing off an empty pouch while withholding the item that their fates depend on.

~ Shouldn’t Tinker Bell be among the fairies? She was in Storybrooke after the second curse, and after that no one could leave due to the flying monkeys. There was only a small window of time between Zelena’s defeat and the appearance of the ice wall; might she have left Storybrooke then to take her chances in a Land Without Magic?

~ Hiding and crawling on her hands and knees seems unbecoming of the Blue Fairy. Even if her magic is not comparable to that of the hat, I would at least expect her to fight in defense of her fairies. As Mother Superior, the other nuns are her spiritual daughters.

~ Hook feels so guilty and ashamed of doing that to the fairies and having to hide it from Emma!

~ Hook is so genuinely indignant and disgusted with Gold for Belle’s sake, seeing how dishonest he is with his loving wife. I think it may point to their different priorities: Hook is self-sacrificing and would choose love over power any day, whereas Gold either chooses power over love, or tries (and fails) to have both.

~ Gold explicitly goes against his own advice to Regina in Episode 2x17, that “You can’t have everything.”

~ Snow’s “both of you” means she was addressing both Emma and Elsa about their magic!

~ When told that he is going to die, Hook’s last voluntary action is to see Emma again!

~ Regina telling Henry “I wish I was as brave as you” is beautiful!

~ If Regina really wanted to keep herself contained for others’ safety, her vault would not be the best place, as she would be surrounded by powerful objects there that she could then use.

~ That montage at the end, showing the various ensemble characters waiting/watching in different places, is great!

Episode 4x11 “Shattered Sight”

~ They completely gloss over the fact that Ingrid made a life for herself in the Land Without Magic. What was it like for her to finally be like other people, without the powers she had feared for so long? And why did she expect Emma’s magic to come out in such a land?

~ In a show where the power of love is so often the solution to problems, it seems dissonant for the heroes to seek out strong hatred as a means to counteract such magic.

~ Emma compares her relationship with Hook to the relationship Regina could have had with Robin!

~ Hook’s fall is so fake!

~ Even while under the Shattered Sight spell, Mary Margaret and David still love their baby!

~ Did the sorcerer’s scroll allow Ingrid to get past Storybrooke’s magical protection?

~ One of the biggest plot holes: Why did Ingrid wait so long after Emma came to Storybrooke before enacting her plan?

~ Is David still trying to help Mary Margaret when she fights Regina?

~ That letter is waaay too long and too neatly written for Gerda to have drafted it in that scene of the storm at sea.

~ The role Anna plays in this climax is similar to that of Frozen: when the magical sister cannot stop the storm, she comes in and risks her own life to show love.

~ The fact that the spell can only be broken by killing the person who cast it … just doesn’t sound or feel right for this show. Ingrid’s death is completely unnecessary, and even contradictory, from a thematic standpoint.

~ Ingrid’s “conversion” moment and her decision to reverse the spell are way too rushed.

~ The fact that Snow White and the Evil Queen can laugh at themselves for fighting each other is pretty remarkable, considering their history.

~ The reunion scene is lovely, but why doesn’t Emma think of Hook? The last she knew, he was going to chain himself to the docks; shouldn’t she think to check on him?

~ Did Belle just sleep through the entire spell?

~ Gold’s parting words to Hook make him realize just how terrible a scourge the Dark One would be on that world.

Episode 4x12 “Heroes and Villains”

~ Emma sounds like a Jedi saying “I sense …”

~ Regina is back to wearing vivid primary colors! I love her blue coat and cable-knit sweater.

~ When has Marian had time, since waking up, to see the way Robin and Regina look at one another?

~ Hook speaks as though he believes in reincarnation, while Gold alludes to Hell and/or the Underworld.

~ Is that a Winnie-the-Pooh bear that Henry picks up in Gold’s shop?

~ Why did Henry bring the book to Gold’s shop, other than to remind the audience of Operation Mongoose? Was he finally going to ask Gold directly about how it works? That interaction with Belle really feels like it doesn’t have any foundation.

~ An animal leading a heroine off the path, into the woods, feels very fairy tale-esque.

~ Emma’s surprise at Hook makes sense: while he is resourceful, magic is not his area of expertise, and the idea of Gold helping his old enemy without a price is bizarre.

~ Hook wants so much to warn Emma, or just to hold her one last time, he manages to squeeze her hand despite Gold controlling his words and most of his actions!

~ When Rumplestiltskin looks for Belle in the flashbacks, was that the first time he called her by name? And was that message in the shell the first time she called him “Rumple”?

~ This probably wasn’t intentional, but Rumplestiltskin’s outfit in this episode is similar to Hook’s old style, with a black coat and red vest.

~ Until now, Gold and Regina have hardly seen each other this season! They’ve had maybe one scene where they were in the same place with a bunch of other people, but this is their first one-on-one. It may have been primarily to find out why Henry was snooping in his shop, but it also seems evidence that on some level he truly cares about Henry and Regina. That hand squeeze at the end is sweet.

~ Gold’s hubris is on full display in his monologue to Regina.

~ How can Robin leave behind his Merry Men? Are they disbanded now? The Sheriff of Nottingham is in Storybrooke, but are there poor people to steal for? Would Emma let them?

~ Regina ripping up the page underscores her despair of her happiness. Yet, she still chooses to do the good/right thing. Her willingness to do what’s right despite still having a “villain’s fate” may make her one of the most heroic characters in this show.

~ Cruella being in the Enchanted Forest and allied with Maleficent and Ursula makes no sense whatsoever. She came from a 20th-century Land Without Magic, not a magical medieval land.

~ “If anyone’s going to crush your heart, it’s gonna be me.” Such sad foreshadowing!

~ Emma should be thanking Elsa, not just the other way around! Elsa helped her learn to love herself and embrace what makes her unique.

~ Rumple/Gold did choose Belle over power when he exchanged the gauntlet for her.

~ Gold is left in a pretty pathetic condition, without even a cane to support his now-returned limp.

~ The “chocolate” in unison is a cute tribute to Frozen, but feels out of place in that conversation.

~ It seems strange for Anna to be wearing gloves as part of her outfit. They’re a symbol of Elsa’s repression, and Anna has always been openhearted.

~ They cut from a wedding to Emma restoring Hook’s heart!

~ Considering how much time was spent on Gold having Hook’s heart and planning to kill him, and what a big deal Emma made about the possibility of losing him, their recovery of his heart and their reunion kiss are way too fast. And how can Emma leave him behind so quickly to hang out with Regina and Henry?

~ If Emma truly believes that “everyone deserves their happy ending,” why was she just drinking to Gold’s misery?

~ I imagine Henry, inspired by movies like Young Frankenstein, must have tried turning every sconce in the manor in order to find the secret passage!

~ How could the fairy-tale characters be aware of their being in “stories” even in the Enchanted Forest as their stories were still unfolding?

Episode 4x13 “Darkness on the Edge of Town”

~ I really don’t like how the characters suddenly own up to labels of “villain.” It would make more sense, and not change the script much, if they instead said “people consider us villains.”

~ Throughout the show, it seems as though the writers reinforce the labels of “hero” and “villain” even as they try to transcend them. It’s confusing and inconsistent.

~ The montage at the start of this episode is a nice way to show what the characters have been up to during the six-week time jump. This, apparently, is when Regina and Snow go back to being mayor and teacher respectively.

~ I wish more of the show took place during periods of peace, just showing the characters’ lives and mini-adventures when they aren’t being threatened by “big bad” villains.

~ Where is David in the first half of this episode? He’s the only main character not shown in the opening montage. If he’s not working for the sheriff’s department or taking care of baby Neal, how is he spending his time?

~ While I like both scenes, there isn’t much emotional transition from the peace and happiness of the montage to Hook’s intense frustration in the following scene.

~ While some parts could have been better written, I really like that Hook and Belle have a scene together, talking about the guilt they feel in connection to Gold. Despite their messy histories, they’ve actually become friends, who understand and encourage each other.

~ What does Belle think Gold could possibly have found, after being stripped away from her and from his power?

~ That scene of Rumple and the trifecta was really unnecessary. No new information was given, nothing developed in the plot or relationships.

~ After all that talk about needing a translation, Regina doesn’t even speak any incantation. And why is she trembling so much while clutching the Dark One dagger afterwards?

~ How do none of them notice the dark thing that comes out of the hat/box?

~ This episode suggests that Rumple didn’t make the Dark Curse himself, just modified one that already existed.

~ Rumple in flashbacks sounds less like his old, impish self, and more like his Gold counterpart.

~ It makes sense for Hook to be shown harboring insecurities, uncertain of whether he belongs with the “heroes,” even after the fairies are freed. While it is not resolved in this episode, it shows continuity throughout the season (and into the next two).

~ It seems a little insensitive to have the welcome-back party for the fairies in the same place where they were captured.

~ I really like Regina’s line about “what’s killing property values this time.” They’re so used to magical mayhem, it’s no longer a complete shock when something happens!

~ It is funny, and fitting, that they all have their roles figured out for when crisis strikes. Mary Margaret’s line about “getting everyone to safety” makes me wonder if they have actual evacuation plans in case of emergencies.

~ Why was Ursula needed for Rumple’s heist? Just to reach over a distance with her tentacles?

~ Trust is a big theme in this episode, but it’s murky when the villains are the ones throwing the word around. Emma also says “Trust me” to both Hook and Regina.

~ There should be some kind of system or protocol for when a “villain” wants to enter Storybrooke. No one is really held accountable for their past crimes, and there could be people already in town who have history with newcomers. Maybe there could be some sort of probation process?

~ Mary Margaret’s lines at the end of the episode are blatantly out-of-character. I know that’s the point, but … come on.

Episode 4x14 “Unforgiven”

~ I can’t decide what’s more OOC for Snow and David: the fact that they did something horrible in the first place, or the fact that they are so focused on hiding it after the fact.

~ I don’t like it when drama is pinned on characters hiding some secret, and there is too much of that going on here.

~ Flashback Snow and David already show their willingness to compromise their values, when they don’t do anything about Maleficent killing those guards.

~ Hook is so sweet and supportive, bringing Emma the lunch she was craving! Oddly, their music theme plays over the ending of the scene, when they’re in an awkward stalemate over him not wanting to share about his past with Ursula.

~ Honestly, given Hook’s reputation and his evasiveness on the subject, I’d expect Emma to suspect him of having a romantic history with Ursula sooner.

~ “Is this really the right thing to do?” David’s response doesn’t actually answer the question. Keeping the truth from Emma is their goal, and may be in their best interests, but that doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do. And Snow asks another version of the very same question in the next scene.

~ Regina and Marco’s scenes are great! It’s a wonder that she hasn’t had more interactions like that with the various townspeople. And when she apologizes, showing empathy and humility, she receives kindness and encouragement in return, just like a heroic protagonist would.

~ Does Belle now run both the library and the pawnshop? How does she balance both jobs? And why would she keep the pawnshop running? I can understand having a sort of custodian since it’s full of magical objects, but aren’t many of them really the belongings of other people in the town?

~ It’s great to see Belle immediately assert herself when her former enemies show up! She wants so much not to be a pushover. I just wish she succeeded more often, instead of so easily being hoodwinked by other characters.

~ I’m not a fan of the whole trope of the heroes playing into the villains’ hands through an elaborate ruse. In this case, Cruella had no guarantee that David would search her car, find the trinket, and decide to go after Maleficent’s ashes.

~ “I only care about one thing: your pain.” The following episodes disprove this.

~ Emma shows a lot of maturity and growth in her second scene with Hook. It’s heartbreaking that that newfound optimism and confidence in her loved ones is what prompts her parents to persist in lying to her, in order to preserve that image.

~ Mary Margaret’s voiceover monologue overlapping scenes of various other characters feels like one of Jenny Lee’s voiceovers in Call the Midwife.

~ Where the heck did Belle and Will’s romance come from? The only time they saw each other before this was when she found him passed out in the library. And how can she be so quick to open herself to a new relationship after her short-lived marriage to Gold?

~ Mary Margaret asking Regina to keep a secret from Emma could have been a real test of friendship and integrity, but it doesn’t really amount to anything over the later episodes.

Episode 4x15 “Enter the Dragon”

~ The timeline of this episode does not fit with what Aurora described in Episode 2x01.

~ Does Storybrooke have its own railway system? Or did Cruella drive them somewhere outside the town to find that train crossing?

~ The whole test seems like something out of Rebel Without a Cause.

~ It’s interesting to see Regina have a “never meet your heroes” storyline with Maleficent in the flashbacks. Usually that kind of interaction is used for heroic characters who need to be called back into a fight.

~ The question that seems to be emerging from this half-season is: How far are the characters willing to compromise their values in order to preserve their reputation (either for good or for evil)? Snow and David cross lines in order to protect Emma’s goodness and their own image; and Regina goes along with the witches’ schemes, even going so far as to kidnap Pinocchio, in order to maintain trust with them.

~ Did King Stephen not recognize Regina as King Leopold’s wife?

~ It’s interesting that Gold uses a ruse that relies on Belle trusting Hook, who he hates. It’s so sad to see Gold take advantage of their newfound friendship.

~ I wonder if Gold/Rumple impersonating Hook is meant to show how similar they are. The cinematography cutting between the two of them is great, conveying the transformation without any special effects.

~ Gold (disguised as Hook) and Belle echo the vow they made when she agreed to stay with him: “You have my word” / “You have mine.”

Episode 4x16 “Poor Unfortunate Soul”

~ This show basically splits the (back)story of The Little Mermaid in half, giving the romance to Ariel and the father-daughter/human-merpeople conflict to Ursula. It’s interesting that Hook betrays both of them in some way, but reconciles with them later.

~ It seems that Hook and his crew didn’t just stay in Neverland for however many years; Pan allowed them to leave in order to pick up supplies for him.

~ Hook is justifiably angry about how Gold used his likeness and deceived Belle.

~ (Spoiler alert:) The episode drops the first hints that either Hook or Emma could become the Dark One!

~ I LOVE the version of “Fathoms Below” that Ursula sings! As fun as it is in its sea shanty version, it sounds beautiful as a ballad, and could even be a lullaby.

~ It took me a long time to figure out that Hook finding the Jolly Roger in a bottle was a nod to Jack Sparrow finding the Black Pearl in a similar condition! I guess that’s what happens when Blackbeard takes over your ship.

~ You can see the shift in young Ursula’s demeanor when she and Hook strike a new, less charitable bargain.

~ Hook’s decision to take Ursula’s voice … doesn’t really make sense.

~ Snow White pulled a Rapunzel, using a frying pan to knock out Cruella!

~ Emma looks at Hook with such pride, like, “You did that! You caused a happy ending!”

~ Hook’s final conversation with Emma is so beautiful! He is still full of insecurities about his past, his hero/villain identity, and his future. Him telling Emma that she is his happy ending is just like Flynn Rider telling Rapunzel that she is his new dream. For as long as it takes Emma and Hook to say “I love you,” they find many other wonderful ways to make their feelings clear to each other.

~ If Ursula and Ariel never met, how did Ursula gain her reputation as a villain? Did she ever do anything actually bad?

~ Does Ursula keep her tentacles, or return to a mermaid tail after reconciling with her father?

Episode 4x17 “Best Laid Plans”

~ This is the episode that is most self-contradictory about the theme of free will.

~ The fact that Snow refers to their child as “it” instead of “she,” even after seeing that the baby will be a girl, is very telling.

~ Parents afraid of their child growing up to be a threat to them is very mythical. In Greek myth this happens with Ouranos, Kronos, and Zeus, as well as Laius, the father of Oedipus.

~ Putting a whole town under a sleeping curse seems to be Maleficent’s MO

~ What makes Isaac’s introduction so convincing is that he seems to serve the kind of role that is typical of folk tales and episodes alike: the guide providing exposition and offering advice to the protagonist(s).

~ “We’ve gone too far own this path.” = The rationale for most characters who start down a dark path and persist because they think the can’t go back.

~ How did they not see any potential danger in banishing darkness into the offspring of a villain/part-time monster? Wouldn’t that make them an even more dangerous threat?

~ Maleficent is far too nice in this show. She’s supposed to be the mistress of all evil, but she seems like a softie.

~ I find it hard to believe Maleficent couldn’t overpower Snow and Charming as they fled. And why would she not go after them during the months remaining before the Dark Curse was cast?

~ Gold and Belle’s scene is so bittersweet. What else does Gold refer to as “changing”?

~ Although they throw around semi-religious terms rather clumsily, the scene of Snow and Charming resolving to do better in the future is pretty beautiful.

~ It’s nice to see Mary Margaret acknowledge that Regina is becoming their friend. That has been increasingly evident this season, mostly in small moments like that one.

~ How long was that sleeping spell in effect? Did David and Mary Margaret come home to find Emma asleep on top of Hook?

~ Mary Margaret saying “I’m your mother” is kind of out of nowhere.

~ Even though it’s a small thing, it’s nice to see Hook have an arc of accepting August as Emma’s friend. Being comfortable with your significant other having friends of the opposite sex shows trust and maturity.

~ Is no one concerned about Regina apparently missing? And where is Henry when his grandparents come clean?

~ Why are none of the Authors that August alludes to female? They could have easily included Scheherazade, which would have provided a connection to Aladdin and the other Arabian Nights tales.

~ Apparently despite all the time they’ve spent looking for the Author, none of the heroic protagonists considered that he might have his own agenda, and that it might not align with theirs.

Episode 4x18 “Heart of Gold”

~ A title with multiple meanings—I like it!

~ This is the first episode that really focuses on Robin Hood as a protagonist, apart from Belle, Baelfire/Neal, or Regina (though she is still very much present in his thoughts). I wish we got to see more of him in action like this.

~ How would Marian have known so much about Baelfire?

~ For all that I dislike about this episode, Robin Hood chasing a thief on horseback down the streets of New York is pretty hilarious!

~ Apparently Robin knows this world’s emergency procedure: call 911. Maybe he learned this when they brought Little John to the hospital in Storybrooke?

~ Robin and Will met in Oz? Just how many lands/realms/worlds did Will traverse? If Robin’s mission were in Wonderland that would make more sense.

~ Walsh turns out to be relevant for something! And there’s a Hidden Mickey in his drawer!

~ Perhaps the biggest plot hole: Why did Zelena’s shapeshifting stay intact when they left Storybrooke and entered the Land Without Magic? That lifted the impact of the Snow Queen’s magic.

~ Zelena is basically playing the same role that Walsh did, trying to ensnare a hero into a false marriage.

~ Will’s backstory is kind of huge, and his words, “Doesn’t seem fair to ask somebody for their heart until I can fix me own,” holds a lot of truth; yet they seem to gloss over it.

~ I totally thought Will was playing up the nice act and trying to pick Robin’s pocket; having Robin instead slip the potion to him is a good twist!

~ The Genie poster for Aladdin is visible behind Robin outside the hospital!

~ The scene of Robin and Gold outside the hospital starts out so sweet and sincere, but then becomes so twisted and manipulative. Gold’s advice sounds like it would actually be good in real life, but he’s using it to play into Zelena’s deception.

~ Robin doesn’t really make the distinction that he only steals from the corrupt, unjustly wealthy. The way he talks about stealing for yourself or for others makes it sound like any kind of thievery done for others is morally justified. That could be taken in dangerous directions.

~ The real Marian is so sweet and supportive when Robin becomes an outlaw! No wonder he was so surprised by her apparent reaction to his behavior in New York.

~ There is a very plausible reason for Robin to have Regina’s number: she helped them get their start in New York, and she could help them again if they were ever in need.

~ Does Robin find a way to make a living in the modern world? What jobs would he qualify for, outside of crime?

~ Regina being protective of Emma is beautiful, and a sign of true character growth. Instead of wishing for Emma to share the same horrible experiences she did, she wants to spare her from them.

Episode 4x19 “Sympathy for the De Vil”

~ I get that Gold threatened Regina’s love, but for her to take Belle’s heart, like Belle isn’t even a person with agency of her own, is such a regression back into darkness.

~ “A person obsessed with vengeance is easy to manipulate.” Gold knows this because Hook demonstrated it earlier this season.

~ It’s nice to see Emma and Regina interact as concerned friends. Emma wants to protect Regina just as much as Regina wants to protect Emma.

~ Light brown is an interesting color on Regina. It’s one of the lighter colors we’ve seen her in.

~ I like Emma’s conversation with Hook and Regina, but searching for Henry seems like an odd time for them to get on her case about forgiving her parents.

~ This whole episode seems to stigmatize mental illness. Or maybe it’s supposed to be a commentary on poor treatment? The way it’s written off at the end as Cruella just opening herself to darkness is … unsettling, and not in a good way.

Episode 4x20 “Lily”

~ Who arranged Cruella’s interment? And why is Emma just watching Gold and Isaac from a distance, neither of them hiding from the other? Are they at a stalemate in terms of power?

~ Why would the Storybrooke library have microfiche records of births in Minnesota? Or did Lily enter this world closer to Maine, like Emma?

~ Abby Ross does a great job playing teenage Emma. It could also be a directing thing, but she seems to mimic Emma’s way of talking and moving very well.

~ Regina implicitly criticizes Snow and David for “messing with” fate, but then encourages Emma to push against fate.

~ Hook and Emma’s conversation is nicely placed at a time in between the major ups and downs of their relationship. He confirms what the audience could already deduce about how she influenced him to change.

~ I love Regina’s purple dress!

~ Emma seems to blame herself a lot for pushing Lily away, but Lily was a pretty awful friend to her.

~ Regina says she “went to the trouble to create Storybrooke.” That raises a lot of questions I’ve wondered about: how much of the town did she design, and how much was Rumplestiltskin’s handiwork?

~ It’s weird and ironic to see Regina be the one restraining Emma’s temper.

~ It feels like the show’s writers are using fate as an excuse for tropey, formulaic writing. Like, of course the wolf is fate intervening. The funny thing is how self-aware the characters are about it, even as Regina tries to deny it.

~ Lily really asked Emma to put herself in danger, approaching her gun-owning boyfriend.

~ Did that kid’s parents never warn her about strangers luring her with food? That is so creepy for Lily to do!

~ Was that even Lily’s car that Emma stole?

~ Even though Emma is mad at her parents, she still fiercely wants to protect them.

~ While the script is painfully unsubtle, Lily’s monologue raises a big real-life question: if it seems like the world is against you, and bad things happen no matter what you do, what is the point of trying to make better choices?

~ Lily’s tirade at gunpoint is confusing, like Palpatine urging Anakin or Luke to kill him. Does she really want Emma to kill her?

~ The fact that Regina gets to talk down someone about to make the same kinds of mistakes she made is beautiful.

~ Was Regina talking to Maleficent, Lily’s mother, practically standing next to her, without even telling her?

~ Emma and Regina don’t actually tell Lily that they want to introduce her to her mother. That could have changed her whole attitude toward them from the start. If she wanted to go to Storybrooke, she should have just heard them out and gone along with them.

~ Gold finally shows some contrition for deceiving Belle, and enough selflessness to let go of her and let Will take his place.

~ I don’t have words for how messed up the Robin/Zelena thing is.

Episode 4x21 “Mother”

~ Motherhood is a central theme of this entire show, but this episode zones in on it in both old and new ways: Snow reconciling with Emma, Maleficent trying to bond with Lily, Regina contending with Cora, Regina destroying her own fertility, and Zelena expecting a baby. That’s five mother-child relationships being juggled in this episode!

~ It’s interesting to see Regina at a stage on her way to becoming the Evil Queen.

~ It's so good to see Cora this season! She is my favorite OUAT villain, because she is the most frightening. She is so convincing, it's always tricky to tell when she is sincere and when she is lying or manipulating the truth.

~ Is the color yellow significant for the rose? As the Queen of Hearts, Cora would have favored red or white roses.

~ They use a forgetting potion as an easy solution for Roland, whereas when Snow White used it to forget Charming it had a huge impact on her personality. This is one example of the show losing its “All magic comes with a price” theme.

~ Bringing the Wicked Witch back to Storybrooke, where she would have more access to magic, is a questionable move. And why doesn’t that ice curse resume its course when she returns?

~ When they’re shown together, Maleficent and Lily really do resemble each other!

~ Where and when could Cora and Tinker Bell have met? That would have been an interesting interaction!

~ The Queen of Hearts and the Sheriff of Nottingham are actually allies in the Sisters Grimm books, another series that sets fairy-tale characters in a modern-day town.

~ Lily and Maleficent are oddly similar to Emma and Henry at the start of the series, except this time it’s the parent that wants the child to stay in town.

~ “Things could change in a week.” This is true: a lot can happen quickly in Storybrooke!

~ Cora and Zelena both tried to use imposture to trick someone into having a child with someone they didn’t love.

~ Snow corrects David by calling Lily “she” instead of “it,” a nice callback correcting the way they talked about her in the egg!

~ The look David and Hook exchange carries a whole conversation. “You did this, didn’t you? Thank you.” “No problem, mate.”

~ Why/how did Lily calm down enough to revert to human form?

~ Isaac is right about Regina being self-destructive, and it’s most evident in this episode! Sterilizing herself in order to keep Cora from using her (or her future child?) to get more power is so painful to see. But Regina being infertile, and immediately seeming to regret it, helps to explain why she has such a soft spot for children and tried so hard to get one of her own in earlier seasons.

~ “My happy ending is finally feeling at home in the world.” That actually sounds like every person’s happy ending, the final step in the Hero’s Journey.

~ Is Isaac just playing Regina the whole episode? Did he ever intend to help her?

~ The series really goes in the direction of the Inkheart trilogy, with the Author able to conjure or alter realities simply by writing a few sentences.

Episode 4x22 “Operation Mongoose Part 1”

~ I’m confused about Isaac’s true motives. Is he just out for himself? Does he really care who gets a happy ending?

~ The characters really can’t seem to decide whether “villains getting happy endings” is a good or bad thing.

~ The intro/teaser about Isaac becoming the Author is cool! The test to identify the Author is much like the test to identify the Avatar in The Last Airbender, which is based on the search for the Dalai Lama in real life.

~ Probably the most unrealistic aspect of the Author is how quickly he can write a bestselling novel!

~ Henry seems to be going back to his first-episode roots, running away to find his family. The only difference is that this time someone tries to call the cops on him!

~ I wonder if Isaac’s press tour event resembles actual Once Upon a Time fan events. It looks like there are Disney cosplayers in the audience, including Jack Sparrow!

~ I love Henry in this season finale! After being absent or on the sidelines for a lot of this season, he finally gets to be a protagonist and hero. I only wish there had been a little more setup for his arc.

~ I think this is Henry’s first time in the Enchanted Forest, or at least some version of it. No wonder he is so excited when he arrives!

~ What an amazing, hilarious, unexpected yet fitting callback to Henry’s famous line to Emma!

~ Dwarves serving as Black Knights is so funny and disturbing at the same time!

~ Snow’s hair looks like it might be Ginnifer Goodwin’s natural hair, only styled differently!

~ This two-part episode is basically like the show’s own fan fiction of itself, and it’s hilarious!

~ Henry refers to “his plan.” Was he the one who sent Robin to rescue Regina? Was there some deleted scene of them?

~ Was Emma really locked up for years, as Regina says? Or did she just wake up in that tower and start screaming, as shown onscreen? If it was the former, that could have had a huge toll on her mental state from then on.

Episode 4x23 “Operation Mongoose Part 2”

~ It seems that in this reality, Baelfire has been replaced by his namesake baby Neal. His presence with Belle and Rumple could also be foreshadowing of them having a baby of their own, something first hinted at by Peter Pan in season 3!

~ Isaac says Baelfire died because of Rumplestiltskin’s cowardice, but that’s not really true.

~ It’s so good to see Hook and Henry working together, Henry demonstrating how much he learned from Hook, and Hook learning about the ways of Star Wars!

~ Emma’s dress is beautiful, but way too extravagant for a prisoner.

~ “My schedule’s pretty clear.” = subtle callback to Hook telling Emma “I’ve all the time in the world” at the start of this season.

~ I hope Snow apologized to the dwarf she killed (I’m guessing Doc due to the glasses) after they returned to Storybrooke!

~ I LOVE Emma’s new Enchanted Forest outfit! Not that her dresses aren’t lovely, but the vest and pants fit her style and personality much better.

~ Even in this adventure, Emma shows hints of darkness, yelling at Grumpy and threatening him. She also shows how fiercely protective she is of Hook in that moment.

~ In the background, Hook picks up the sword and holds it up, so clumsy and uncertain, yet ready and willing to fight for Emma.

~ “Is she worth your life, pirate?” “I’m willing to find out.” That’s really been Hook’s attitude since becoming Emma’s ally at the start of season 3!

~ After all their animosity in seasons 2-3, which gave way to friendship and alliance in seasons 3-4, it’s strange to see Hook and David have an all-out duel.

~ I think the writers/directors specifically blocked that scene so Emma would see Hook’s face as he died!

~ Belle paraphrases Mrs. Potts in Beauty and the Beast!

~ “What does your heart tell you?” = another Star Wars reference?

~ I bet Emma has wanted to cross blades with Rumplestiltskin for a LONG time!

~ Regina choosing to protect Henry, even at the cost of her supposed happy ending, is completely in-character, yet also shows how much she has grown since the first season, where she put Henry in danger while pursuing her goals.

~ It’s hard to believe that after everything that happened, Emma is still too afraid to tell Hook “I love you.” Colin O’Donoghue’s acting in that scene is incredible. And apparently Hook finally considers himself a hero!

~ Great lines from Snow about what makes a hero or villain!

~ “The best way to show your love for those that are gone is to tell their stories.” True words!

~ Henry is a lot like Harry Potter in his scene with the Apprentice: he wonders about the possibility of resurrecting a dead parent, and he breaks the Author’s quill the way Harry breaks the Elder Wand in the film version of Deathly Hallows. But how can he still be the Author if he does not have the quill?

~ Apparently Will is Roland’s baby-sitter! Not sure how wise that is, but it could make for fun shenanigans!

~ Why does the darkness target Regina? It can’t be because she has the greatest potential for darkness, since that was shown to be Emma earlier this season. Is it because she is now so full of light, as Henry and Emma hint?

#Once Upon a Time #ABC's Once Upon a Time #Once Upon a Time series #reactions #analysis #Captain Swan #Outlaw Queen

[histoireettralala]

A reputation in tatters

Henry III’s divergence from the traditional model of French kingship made him a controversial figure in his own lifetime. He was an enigma to many of his subjects. Henry looked majestic: he was taller than average, comported himself with elegance and dignity; he was a good public speaker and, following the model set by Philip II, diligent and hard-working. He took the idea to heart that in order to reform the state Frenchmen would have to reform themselves. Who better to set an example than the king: for three years, beginning in January 1576, he instituted the practice of retiring after dinner to hear public lectures from the leading thinkers of the day on edifying subjects. But he did not always behave in the manner which was expected: he was notoriously free with his emotions in public and his sense of irony — he ennobled his court jester in 1584— was lost on many of his subjects. Without a child and dogged by ill-health his rule was precarious. He and the queen tried all sorts of quack fertility treatments. From the moment in March 1580 when Guise recommended a doctor from Dauphiné, the king would spend an increasing amount of time away from court taking thermal cures. The duke accompanied the king on the pilgrimages that he undertook to various shrines to assist the queen’s conception. In 1582 Henry, already noted for his piety and convinced that divine wrath was the cause of his afflictions, underwent some form of spiritual conversion that manifested itself in abstinence. Regular dietary austerities had already become a significant part of his life and he now vowed to sleep with no other woman than the queen. On 11 August the king took leave of the court, leaving his mother in charge to go on a three month retreat. His immersion in the burgeoning penitential movement was crowned by the establishment of the new Confraternity of the Annunciation of Our Lady, which held its first procession at the feast of the Annunciation 1583.

On Maundy Thursday, in pouring rain, the king, dressed in the grey serge cagoule of a simple brother, returned in procession from Notre Dame cathedral, imitating Christ’s Passion with ritual flagellation. Many were shocked at the indignity of the spectacle; others, were more inclined to satirize what they saw as hypocrisy. The following ditty was one among dozens of lampoons:

Having pillaged the kingdom France

And all his people ripped off,

Is it real penitence

To cover yourself with a dripping sack cloth?

The Cardinal of Guise, who carried the cross, and Mayenne, who was master of ceremonies, had more dignified roles. Their elder brother was not present: he mocked the king for ‘living like a monk and not a king’. And there was something in this: the king spurned the traditional aristocratic pastimes, like hunting, tennis, and riding. As a consequence jousts and tourneys at his court were rare. The king was aware of Guise’s scorn, turning it into a joke one day, as he leapt into his saddle, remarking afterwards to one of the duke’s men nearby ‘Does my cousin have monks like me in Champagne who mount their horses in one leap?’

Henry was widely admired but he was not popular. Recent historians have found much to applaud too, but their judgement relies too much on the assessment of the educated elite. The people were less impressed. They blamed Henry for permitting heresy and thus bringing down on them God’s wrath in the form of harvest failure and plague, which afflicted his reign and came on top of the economic dislocation caused by civil war. As early as 1578, Claude Haton overheard the townsfolk on Provins denouncing him as a tyrant and an atheist. And his reputation suffered further because one could not trust him; he said one thing and did another. He issued a grand edict in 1580 abolishing many recently created venal offices, which were hated as a form of stealth tax since the purchasers recouped their investments in gifts and bribes, only to invent all sorts of new ones to sell soon after. Even taverns were turned into venal offices, forcing their owners, who had to purchase them from the Crown, to pass the cost on to the poor customer! Haton thought Henry deceitful, about as trustworthy as a ‘Turk’ or a ‘cunning whore’. The perceived gap between the king’s publicly declared virtue and privately practised vice was fertile ground for satire. Moralists railed against Henry’s court as a den of immorality, profligacy, and corruption. They pointed the finger at the king’s favourites, his mignons, or ‘sweeties’, a word with homosexual undertones. There was no truth in the rumours: but the king did little to stop tongues wagging; his ostentatious shows of affection towards them scandalized the public. The king’s penchant for dancing, which he undoubtedly associated with dexterity and self-discipline, was a red rag to the priggish. The mignons were swaggering dandies, whose fashions marked them out from ordinary gentlemen and outraged the Parisian bourgeoisie, none more so than the misanthropic diarist Pierre de l’Estoile, who described:

their hair like whores in a brothel, curled and recurled by artifice, sticking up under their bonnets, and their ruffs of their fine linen shirts stiffened and elongated so that their heads above them looked like the head of Saint John the Baptist on a platter. The rest of their clothes were the same; their pastimes were gaming, blaspheming, jumping about, dancing and vaulting, quarrelling and whoring, to follow the King around everywhere and do everything to please him.

Anti-court feeling was strong among the middling sort and fuelled the righteous anger of the pious killjoys who made up the ranks of the Catholic League. Haton described how in 1581 the religious radicals in his parish refused to take part in public prayers for an heir, desiring Henry’s ‘death and the extermination of his entire lineage’. This was an extraordinary moment which shows that ordinary people, who surely had no acquaintance with the new Protestant literature justifying Tyrannicide, were imagining the king’s death in the early 1580s.

Stuart Carroll - Martyrs and Murderers: the Guise Family and the Making of Europe

Thanks @microcosme11 for the gif!

#xvi #stuart carroll #martyrs and murderers: the guise family and the making of europe #henri iii

[anthroparis]

People just dye their hair for fun. It's not symbolic babes.

okay let's start off with the fact that michela is a fictional character. she's not real.

and color symbolism in media is, in fact, important. and it exists everywhere.

when people see a color, there's often a feeling or thought attached to it- fast food companies use red more than any other color because red elicits hunger. people use blue to represent sadness, pink is youthful and romantic, yellow is happy, and so on. this is pretty standard color theory.

people have been using color in abstract ways to represent stories and emotion for thousands of years. just look at the contrast between this rococo era painting by jean-honore fragonard and this impressionist piece by claude monet

both of these pieces are very similar in subject matter: a woman in a long dress, a sunny day, a natural environment. if I described these on paper rather than showing them to you, you'd assume they're fairly similar paintings.

but you can look at these and feel a clear difference between the two. why?

because of the visual elements! the method, the chiaroscuro, the colors, the blocking.

ALL OF THESE THINGS HAVE SYMBOLISM IN THEM. THEIR POINT IS TO ELICIT A REACTION IN THE VIEWER.

lets look at another!

this is the arnolfini portrait by jan van eyck. it's one of the most famous and significant pieces in western art.

you can easily look at this and say "hey look it's two people in a room" but painters, AGAIN, FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS, have been using symbolism to depict real people. even the green of the dress represents hope, likely to have a child (indicated by the way she's holding her dress up and the dog, which by some arguments may represent lust between the two subjects)

THESE ARE REAL PEOPLE. BY THE WAY. ARTISTS MAKE DELIBERATE CHOICES TO INCLUDE SYMBOLISM IN ARTISTIC MEDIUMS.

anyway, even if it wasn't a deliberate choice on the creators part, there's this awesome thing called "death of the author" which was a french essay that argued that the original intent of the creator becomes null once the work is published, and the audience interpretation is ultimately more important.

so even if it did mean nothing in the writing process, to me it is significant. other people will have different interpretations but it'll be significant, too.

blue is a complicated color. dark blue is regal, calming, but also subdued and depressed. this could mean a lot of things, but looking at it compared to the green, just the fact that it's different, means there's some kind of change happening. even if it's purely physical.

I work in (indie, not big-budget) film and I've always felt the "the curtains are just fucking blue" argument completely defeats the point of analysis.

the reason why English class is core curriculum in schools over here isn't because it's fun silent reading hour, it's to help prepare kids to make choices and understand other perspectives and complicated situations through critical thinking.

when you limit yourself, when you say things like "that's just how it is, it doesn't mean anything" you're not only spitting on the work, you're creating a reality in which you can throw aside hard questions because "that's just how it is" is your answer to other people wanting to understand things. church v. galileo moment.

when you watch a movie, it's easy to just take it all at surface value and not give it a second thought. it's just entertainment, right? it's not supposed to make you feel anything other than pleasantly amused like a court jester!

I've worked on films. I do work on films. every single decision, from the angle of a certain shot to where the actors are standing, is deliberate. and it's so good that you don't even notice it!

in real life, my hair is blue right now. it means nothing except for me liking the color blue.

michela is not fucking real. she does not have the same agency I do to go "oh, I have some dark blue dye left in the bottle, I'll do that this month." because she is not real. she is a character.

for you, I recommend looking up some storyboards from movies, checking out some abstract art (pollock is a good place to start), and watching ralphthemoviemaker's minions review, where he talks about why character design is important.

And none of this even matters anyway because I was making a scott pilgrim joke.

the end

#no tldr. either read this like a man or admit you have no reading comprehension