#her husband is a madman but she’s a queen

[fairytales-and-arts]

Wish: the power of the Stars - Part 1 - The backstory

(Or otherwise known as some ideas in chronological order that I thought of for a Wish rewrite. I don't intend to write it, I'll just play it and give crumbs of inspiration to anyone who wants to eat it).

This post will be I doubt it in two parts: the first for the backstory and the second for what would be the main story of the film, this way it is shorter and easier to explain.

However, I'm still writing the second part, so things I said here about the characters will remain unanswered as they will be in part two. This first part was just to give context.

Note: there are still errors and nonsense. I explained what I could explain, but it's an unfinished idea, it's all messed up, but I think it deserves to come into the world. Feel free to try to explain the holes in this story, in fact, I invite you to do so!! Have fun!

✨| In this version, the Village of Rosas would be destroyed for some reason. I imagine Mag studying about wish magic, trying to use his own wish to do so, but then failing miserably which would cause the explosion that would destroy a large part of Rosas. Amaya would be helping him with his potions and that's why she would also be to blame for the explosion, I even think she wanted the experiment to be done with her wish, but her beloved husband didn't let her.

✨| They would have children, who unfortunately would die in the explosion, as did Asha's family and Earendel's father.

(who is Earendel??? Starboy, but we'll talk about that in a moment)

✨| Earendel's father was an astrologer who, because he was very close to the stars, managed to communicate with one of them that day and The star told him that he needed to stop Mag. That's what he was going to try to do and that's why he distracted Mag and he failed the spell, causing the explosion.

✨| Magnus and Amaya ended up finding Asha and she was adopted by them. She had just lost her parents. They just lost their children. Makes sense right? They had an instant pain connection! As for Earendel and her mother, they were forced to flee. Mag and Amaya took charge of rebuilding the small village and, to escape blame, they placed all responsibility for the accident on the Astrologer's family, taking advantage of the fact that no one knew they performed magic, but everyone knew that the "Astrologer was a madman who talked to the sky".

✨| Under the command of Amaya and Mag, the village was rebuilt, becoming a city and later a Prosperous Kingdom, with Mag and Amaya being crowned. They were so loved by the people that they received nicknames from "King Magnifico and Queen Adorable" .

(reads "Adorable" with a Spanish accent Lmao!

@annymation , Thanks for the inspiration!!)

✨| Asha, being their daughter, became a princess, but has not yet received an affectionate name for reasons of formality. Some just called her "The Little Princess"

✨| Magnifico I was afraid that another accident might happen, so he banned magic and looked for ways to remove people's deepest desires and hide them forever. In this search, he found his staff — the staff capable of doing just what he wanted, understanding the powers of the people within.

(I forgot to mention that he already had the spellbook. That's his magic study artifact.)

✨| And so the spell ritual was born: When each citizen of Rosas turned 18 (the age at which their inner desires were supposedly already mature within their soul) they must deliver them Wish for the king who would "realize" them.

✨| The truth is that the King never granted a wish out of fear. He would take a look at the person's wish as soon as he collected it and attached it to the staff. Just. So, he told Amaya what people wanted and she used to do spells with potions to hypnotize people and make them feel like their wish had been granted and feel good about it. Obviously she used this hypnosis to give people "talents" , assigning each person who gained this talent a role that was interesting and useful to the king and queen, not because it was what people really wanted. The potion flew to its recipient at night in a bubble and burst in the person's face while they were sleeping. That's why everyone thought wishes were balls.

✨| The desire was trapped in the staff. It was a ceremonial staff. Mag was afraid of desires and their power. He couldn't lose anyone else, so he just performed the ceremony and kept it safe until the next ceremony.

✨| At that time, Earendel and his mother were hiding in the forest, protected by the stars that guided them to safe places where they could build a house, grow food and live. That house becomes the first from a village of "marginals" (people who hired the king and queen and were persecuted for that). In this village there is the wishing tree, as in the original concepts, just saying your wish out loud can attract Mag and Amaya.

(The explosion happened when Asha and Earendel were 4 years old. 14 years have passed and now we move on to the main story)

BUT THAT ONLY IN THE NEXT POST!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THIS FAR

I appreciate any polite comments and any story ideas!

I sincerely hope that everything was clear and understandable in grammatical terms! English is not my native language Lmao -w-

Kisses of light and stars!

Good bye!

~Emy

#wish 2023 #disney wish #wish reimagined #wish rewrite #wish #disney #wish fandom #starboy x asha #starboy #asha x star #princess asha #wish the power of stars #wish the power of star au #emy luz stories

[buckybarnesb-tch]

Hiii! I was wondering if u could do a royalty au with the yandere Mikaelsons! It can either be human or vampire but like image THE AESTHETICS OF IT!! And can u somehow include rebekah as well!! I can leave the rest of the plot up to u or if u want I can also send ideas :)

I Don’t Want a Crown -Klaus M.

For something like this I could see going vampire but no, I’m going human on this. I’m excited to try it out!

Your father thought it was an insult.

You were your fathers youngest daughter, the only one currently unmarried as he had married off your sisters already to make necessary alliances. The Mikaelson family was a very powerful ally, they were close with the king and queen but your father only wanted you to be married to the eldest, Elijah. Elijah however is already betrothed.

Elijah was happy to marry you to his younger brother, Niklaus, who you hadn’t met but you had heard some truly horrific stories of him beheading and gutting his enemies.

Your father dismissed you so that he could talk to Elijah alone and you happily exited the stuffy room, exploring the castle before making your way outside. You were enjoying the overcast sky before coming across a man leaning against a tree and seemingly sketching something in a book. You paused as you walked passed him to look and see him drawing an image of your horse that was by the stables.

‘That’s very good…are you an artist or something?’ You questioned and he paused to look down at you before smiling.

‘Or something, it’s a nice hobby. I’m glad you like it. I’m Nik, lovely to meet you.’ He took your hand, kissing your knuckle softly and bowing as he did which made you smile. Many men that greeted you didn’t think they had to bow to anyone but your parents, this man was a stranger and showing you more respect than your regular suitors.

‘I’m Y/n, it’s a pleasure. Well, I’m sorry to have bothered you Nik.’ You turned to walk away when he quickly fell into step beside you.

‘I can’t leave a beautiful girl to walk alone now can I? What kind of a man would I be?’ He held out his arm and you took it as you walked through the gardens. ‘So, why are you taking a stroll alone on such a dreary day?’

‘Oh I love days like these, and I love walking in the rain…much to my fathers dismay but that somehow makes it better.’ You teased and he seemed to like it. ‘Rainy days are the best kind. And I suppose I needed to get away. My father has been trying to marry me off to some rich family, though which one is anyone’s guess. It’s exhausting meeting potential husbands every day, and not one of them actually interested in meeting me. Just my father because it’s his choice and I will do what I’m told. Then I’ll get married to a man who is cold and cruel and just as happy to make me do what I’m told. I’m not ignorant enough to think I should be free to fall in love, the world isn’t that kind but shouldn’t we at least like each other? I don’t want to become my sister, married to a man who beats her with only the intention of filling her with a son…and now I’m ranting my problems to a stranger who only asked about the weather. I’m so sorry Nik-‘

‘I asked why you were walking, you answered. And I don’t think it’s an outrageous request to want to get along or a husband who will not beat you. A man should respect his wife, she is the one who will raise his children and give him a happy home to come back to every day, warm his bed yes but that should be more than one sided as well.’ You tried to hide your blush at the topic but he definitely noticed. ‘You’re a lovely women. You should be taken care of, and regardless of what a man is like with other men he should be a gentleman with his family. I’m sure your husband will prove to be a good man, at least to you.’ You smiled at that, his optimism being refreshing.

‘It’s a nice sentiment, though the man my father is meeting with now is trying to marry me off to an apparent madman. Of course those are just rumors, everyone deserves a fair chance.’ He looked stunned by your words as you sat yourself on the rock wall overlooking the ocean. It’s where you came to read often, it was peaceful and you loved watching the waves when it stormed.

‘You have a refreshing outlook on life. I like how sweet you are Y/n. Any man should be honored to have you, I know I would be.’ He sat beside you, kissing your hand once again, his blue eyes being the kind you want to get lost in for hours.

‘Well, I’m an optimist I guess. Besides, it’s not just him that’s a possibility. My father is meeting with someone else today, I suppose he feels slighted that I’ve been offered a second son, dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life but my father is nothing if not sensitive.’ You joked and while he laughed he looked…angry? He hid it quickly before standing and holding out his hand.

‘We should get you inside, it’s going to rain any second Princess.’ He walked you back to the castle in silence and while it wasn’t uncomfortable, you felt the need to ask as you got inside.

‘Have I offended you? If I have, you have my sincerest apologies my Lord, I don’t-‘

‘Nonsense! You have done nothing of the sort.’ He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and the way he looked at you was so…heavy. ‘Now, you go get yourself warmed up and dressed for dinner. I’m sure I will see you again in a bit.’ With that he bowed and was gone, leaving you to realize how late it really was and rush to get ready for dinner.

When you arrived you were greeted by your mother as your father spoke to a man who must be in his early 40s. Very close to his age at least. ‘Y/n, your father has invited both of your suitors, Lord Aslan and Lord Mikaelson to dinner tonight. He would like to speak with both of them freely and see which is the best match, please be on your best behavior?’ Your mother begged.

‘Please tell me that old man is my suitors father?’ Your mother looked at you with hard eyes and you knew to shut up as you all sat down to eat.

‘Should we wait for the Mikaelson’s?’ Your mother asked and father rolled his eyes.

‘Can’t even be on time for a potential alliance. How disgraceful.’ Lord Aslan spoke and now you rolled your eyes.

‘Apologies my Lord, my brother has had to leave, our sister is having a bit of trouble. I’m sorry for my tardiness.’ You know that voice.

‘We can understand that. Young women are a handful, I should know, my wife gave me 5.’ Everyone knows your father hates that your mother gave him so many girls before a boy but he still brings it up. You looked up to see Nik sitting in the chair across from you and smiled politely, but you’re sure he could see it didn’t reach your eyes. ‘Gentlemen, this is my daughter Y/n.’ You waved politely, Nik smiling while the man beside your father leered at you.

‘The pleasure is mine Princess.’ Lord Mikaelson greeted, the other man laughing suddenly and gaining everyone’s attention.

‘She’s not a Princess. A Lady, maybe, and a lovely one at that.’ You cringed, taking a drink from your cup and trying to ignore his eyes on you.

‘Every women should be treated as a Princess by her husband. Do you not agree my Lord? I’ve met many Princesses, they don’t hold a candle to you Darling.’ The blush is back and this time you can’t even pretend to hide it.

‘Thank you my Lord, you are sweet.’

The rest of dinner was your father speaking to Lord Aslan while he leered at you and you spoke to Nik back and forth, finding the rumors about him to be insane. He couldn’t hurt a fly. Or so you thought.

After they had left and you were getting ready for bed your father knocked on your door, letting himself in with a stern look on his face. ‘You behaved very rudely at dinner. You didn’t once try to speak to Lord Aslan.’

‘He was staring at my chest all night and he didn’t speak to me either, just you. He wants me to be his wife and doesn’t even want to know anything about me? No thank you. Besides, I loved speaking with Niklaus, he was sweet and he wanted to know me. I would much rather-‘ you were about to finish when your father cut you off with a hand around your throat, eyes angry and determined.

‘You think I care what you want? Your opinion means nothing to me child, it’s the men that matter and I will not be offended by being offered a second son for my youngest girl. I’m being given land and an army by Lord Aslan, plus a dowry that is worth much more than you. You’ll make yourself happy where ever I put you like a good daughter and a good wife! You are set to marry Lord Aslan in a fort night. That is all I will hear on the matter.’ When he stopped speaking he finally allowed you to breathe, pulling his hand away and watching you collapse to the floor, gasping for air. ‘Sleep daughter. You have lunch with your husband tomorrow and you must be presentable.’ With that he was gone and you were left alone to change into your night gown, holding a cold compress to the quickly forming bruises on your throat.

You were in too much pain to relax and sleep, every time you moved your neck or swallowed pain shot through your throat and didn’t leave you with the ability to get comfortable. You had finally given up trying and ended up on the loveseat with a book and an inability to stop the tears despite your pain. You were going to spend the rest of your life with a man who doesn’t care for you at all. Niklaus would move on and find a new wife, some lucky girl to have a good husband and a good life and you hate her. You were trying to calm yourself when you heard a knock on your French doors making you look up before it happened again. Quickly you wiped your face before moving to the doors to see a familiar face, waving casually.

‘What are you doing?’ You asked, opening the doors and allowing him to slip in and watching as he looked around your plain room.

‘I am to be your husband, I’m allowed to see my wife, aren’t I? I want to get to know you better before-we…why are you crying?’ You quickly wiped your face again and he stopped you, taking your hands in his and brushing the tears away.

‘Niklaus, you have to go. You can’t be here-‘

‘I will not have you cry, why are you upset, I can-‘

‘You can’t fix it! You are not going to be my husband! I told you, I’m not going to be married to a second son and what I want doesn’t matter! You need to leave, please? You’ll be killed if you’re found in here!’ You pushed at his chest but he didn’t budge, pulling you close and tilting your head up, inspecting the bruises on your neck gently. ‘My Lord-‘

‘Husband.’ He cut you off, clearly angry but not acting on it. ‘I’m sorry if you got confused Princess, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, your father seems to want to irritate me. There was no chance of any other man marrying you, I have already decided that you’re mine. You are not to worry about that, do you understand?’ He asked it so softly you felt like you were dreaming.

‘But my father-‘

‘Do. You. Understand?’ His eyes were a stormy blue, like a raging sea, impossible to tame but he never once made you feel like you were in danger with him.

‘I understand. But my father will never agree. He’s stubborn and cruel-‘

‘You haven’t seen cruel Princess…and you never will. I promise you that. And this-‘ he touched your neck softly, his eyes hardening when he looked at the bruises. ‘This will never happen to you again. Not in this lifetime, you are my wife, my Princess to protect and no one will ever harm you. No one will get close enough to try. Tomorrow you’ll go about your day like normal and not speak a word of this, then you will get the news that you are being married to me. Now come, Princess’ need sleep.’ He suddenly lifted you into his arms and carried you to your bed, tucking you into the blankets and holding your hand.

‘I can’t sleep. My neck hurts and I-‘

‘Shh.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle, reaching up to open your mouth and you didn’t fight him as he pored it onto your tongue, making you swallow. ‘Now relax, you’ll sleep just fine my darling. Don’t you worry about that.’ He pressed your hand to his face, kissing your palm and sighing, his stubble scratching your hand roughly. As he began standing your eyes fell, heavy with sleep and you felt a kiss on your cheek before you fell asleep.

You slept well into the next day and you were awoken by a maid just before lunch, helping you into a dress that covered the marks on your neck. You went to the gardens for your lunch but Lord Aslan never showed up.

Your father was furious for the rest of the day and you didn’t see him at dinner but your mother told you that he was in a meeting. Walking back to your bedroom that night you turned to see familiar blue eyes looking down at you, waiting outside your door. ‘Nik?’

‘Hello my darling wife.’ He pulled you close to his chest and into your room, the door shutting behind him. ‘Our wedding will be held in 2 days time, everything is being taken care of, you won’t have to lift one little finger. I want you to have the best wedding day ever.’

You pulled back, looking up at him confused. ‘I’m engaged already, he told me-‘

‘Your father is an idiot, and he knew not to cross me yet he did so anyway after finding out that I wanted you as my wife. That’s his problem. The other…I hesitate to call him a man, isn’t an issue anymore. He was found dead in his home this morning for looking at things that didn’t belong to him.’ You stared up at him in shock, not sure what to do. ‘I told you, I like how sweet you are and any man should feel honored to have you. I do, and I always will. I will protect my sweet girl until my dying day, and not once will your innocent eyes be forced to see anything even resembling violent. I know I’m not the best man, but I will take care of you love, and I will love you for the rest of eternity…do you want to be mine?’

You didn’t know what to say to that. ‘I’m already yours-‘

‘I will see to it that you live like a nun for the rest of your life if that’s what you choose, but I would much prefer you be mine. I love you Y/n, but it’s your choice.’ His honesty spoke volumes and I nodded my head without hesitation.

‘Yes. I want to be your wife…I love you too Nik.’

Klaus was the best husband she could have ever dreamed of and he was true to his word, she never saw any violence…even when she ordered it.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

I Don’t Want a Crown Moodboard

#vampire #hybrid #tvd klaus #the vampire diaries #the originals #the vampire diares imagine #the originals imagine #klaus imagine #klaus x reader #klaus x y/n #klaus fluff #klaus fic #niklaus mikaelson #niklaus imagine #Royalty!Klaus Mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x oc #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus mikaelson x reader #yandere klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson smut #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaelson fluff #royalty au

[targaryen-jpg]

like real people do — ch. 3

part two: hold me without hurting me

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight

pairing: aemond targaryen x tyrell oc

summary: during a hunting party celebrating the birth of prince maelor, helaena has a dream and adria makes some realizations.

notes: y'all episode 10 did things to me. apologies if this is shit i was writing like a madman i fear i started foaming at the mouth thank you everyone for all the love, i appreciate it so much!!

the kingswood smelled of fresh earth and rain when the royal party arrived – wagons carrying the lord and ladies of the red keep and their belongings. among them, the three children of king viserys and queen alicent and the ever faithful adria tyrell.

while the men hunted, adria, helaena, and alicent held court for the ladies left behind. inside the comfortable tents that had been erected before their arrival, adria sipped wine from the arbor, bouncing the young princess jaehaera on her knee. the infant giggled, babbling at her twin brother, cradled in helaena’s arms. 

“the dragon’s trove does not leave its sight,” helaena murmured.

adria turned at her sudden words, “princess?”

but helaena was cooing at the prince, her riddle already forgotten.

helaena was a dreamer, she was sure of it. her omens nearly always turned out to be correct in some way or another. it was known that daenys the dreamer had foretold the doom of valyria, and helaena was of her blood. not all believed her premonitions, but adria knew they were more than mad ramblings.

the hunt was a successful one, with prince aegon bringing back a large stag. he and the men whoaccompanied him paraded back into camp brandishing the massive animal. the ladies who had stayed behind were outside the central tent awaiting their arrival.

adria hated herself for it, but the only thing she could focus on was the tall prince beside aegon, long hair falling over his shoulders in silvery sheets. aemond’s face was damp with sweat and he was flushed with exertion, grinning. adria’s stomach lurched, and her eyes moved to stare at the ground at her feet. 

“is the ground in the kingswood truly so interesting?” a voice said, as dusty black boots came into her field of vision. adria looked up and aemond was watching here, head cocked.

his proximity sucked the air from her lungs. he seemed so full of life like this, dressed in a casual dark brown tunic, scabbard hung low over hips. his lips were full and pink, and adria found herself wondering what they would feel like beneath her fingertips.

what in the seven hells?

perhaps she was dreaming. perhaps she had finally gone mad, because why else would she be admiring aemond like this? the air was too thick as he silently stared, causing her cheeks to light up. he was still waiting for a response.

“my… my prince,” adria mumbled some apologies, then started off before he could say more.

at the feast that evening, adria barely dared breath. she sat next to helaena, on the princess’ other side was her husband, then prince aemond. three seats away and he was far too close for comfort. adria swore she could feel his gaze but dared not turn.

she dutifully ate the venison, drank her fill of arbor wine and conversed with helaena until she felt it was an appropriate hour to retire.

adria stood, “princess, princes, i beg your pardon but i believe i shall retire now.”

“oh, you and i are of the same mind,” helaena smiled, “i’ll accompany you.”

“come now, brother,” aegon slurred as he stood, “how can we allow these two ladies to travel without an escort?”

“we have the knights,” adria protested, her stomach beginning to turn.

“nonsense,” aegon declared, dragging aemond up, “take adria, aemond.”

adria delicately placed her hand on aemond’s forearm, and they started across the camp.

they arrived at the royal tent, the warm glow of candlelight illuminating the ornate structure. it consisted of a large central room, with several bedrooms leading off of it.

“i beg your leave, your grace, i should return to my own tent,” adria protested, pausing in the threshold.

“come, lady adria” aegon grinned, pouring several cups full of deep red wine, “let us share one more drink. this is a celebration!”

she swallowed. he was the crown prince – this wasn’t a suggestion. it rarely was with him. she dutifully took a cup and nearly drained it, as aemond and aegon did the same. helaena took a small sip.

they had another drink, and another, and aegon kept calling for more wine before adria could tell him to stop. her head had grown fuzzy, and she found herself laughing at aegon’s crude jokes, despite herself.

adria reclined on a floor cushion, legs tucked beneath her, while helaena had taken up a more ladylike stance on a loveseat. aemond had found himself at the table, while aegon sat in an elaborate chair in the center of them all.

helaena was the first to leave, drawing the curtains to her chamber shut as she left. adria should have left then, but the she was so comfortable and so happy that the thought scarcely crossed her mind.

aegon left soon after, though not to his own room. he left out the front door as adria said a silent prayer for the female servants.

her cup was empty, she realized.

“pass me the wine, my prince,” adria asked, looking back at aemond.

“i do believe you’ve had enough, my lady,” he murmured as he joined her on the floor – but he brought the flagon with him.

he sprawled on the floor pillows next to her. it was in that moment adria registered that they were alone. the wine had turned his cheeks rosy, his elaborate tunic unbuttoned, exposing the white shirt beneath. somewhere in her muddled mind, adria had the thought that he was beautiful.

“i do believe this is the first time i’ve truly enjoyed your company, aemond,” she mused, as he poured her a cup.

he chuckled, downing the remainder of his own glass, “i shall sorely our little talks when you are wed.”

oh.

adria had forgotten about that – about him. jacaerys. 

“your silence speaks volumes,” aemond said, raising an eyebrow.

she took another sip, looking away, “don’t do this, aemond.”

“i’m not doing anything.”

fog cleared as anger filled her, “you’re being a child.”

he scoffed and downed his cup, “i see the world as it is. you are blinded by notions of love. whatever else you think this marriage will bring.”

“the world is not all evil, and i am not a fool. i know the reality of my situation, jacaerys is possibly the best match i could be offered – you know nothing.”

“i know he doesn’t deserve you,” aemond spat.

“and you do?” adria scoffed.

“no,” he quieted, “no, i don’t.”

adria’s heart sank. 

aemond laughed bitterly, “you – i have wanted you for as long as i can remember, yet you are the one thing in the seven kingdoms i cannot have.”

oh.

oh.

adria felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs.

aemond was so close to her, so close – sprawled out on the pillows, more open and relaxed than she had ever seen him. she could see the flecks of grey in his violet eyes, the stray hairs that hung over his eye patch. his lips were tinged pink from the wine, and adria was remind of her earlier thought – what would they feel like?

she set her cup down, and tentatively reached down. her hand met aemond’s jaw, the skin smooth and warm under her touch. her thumb swiped over his bottom lip, and she hummed at the feeling.

adria felt like her entire body was on fire, was sure that her face was cherry red as she watched aemond. he was still, stiff as her hand met his face, but relaxed into the touch. so, she moved, tracing a single finger over the eyepatch, down the scar that ran under it. she felt the length of his nose, the hard plane of his cheekbone, traced his jaw from where it met his ear to his chin.

she returned to his lip, feeling along his cupid’s bow, “i was wondering what your lips felt like.”

“were you?” aemond breathed. he seemed as surprised as she felt, one hand coming to circle her wrist. his hand covered hers, and he pressed a slow kiss to her fingers, “and are you satisfied?”

adria moved their intertwined hands to rest back on his cheek,“not yet.”

she leaned down, and then her lips were on his.

aemond seemed to freeze for a moment, but his free hand moved to tangle in her hair, pressing the two closer. his touch was soft, but adria could feel the urgency behind it, behind every movement against her lips.

they parted a hair’s width, panting, but unable to move further apart. adria held gaze, watching every breath, every twitch of his eye.

aemond grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, capturing adria’s lips once more. she made a small noise in the back of her throat, and aemond’s hand buried itself in her hair in response. 

adria realized then that she was kissing aemond targaryen – the object of her ire for nearly eight years. the man who had mocked her and bullied her, the man she had threatened and insulted right back. the man who at present was gripping her waist, kissing her like he never would again.

when adria finally pulled back, gasping, aemond rest his forehead against hers. his lips were swollen, his hair mussed. adria knew she looked the same.

“stay,” he whispered.

“you know i can’t.” 

next part ->

taglist: @bubblebuttwade @kittykylax @fix5idiots @signyvenetia @stillinracooncity

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fic #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon #like real people do #emilia writes

[fe-fictions]

Any Claude angst.

(Claude getting kidnapped and rescued by his wife??? Speaking of reverse kidnaps... ;0 )

There’s always a bigger fish.

You and Claude lived by those words, without any question. However, when things were finally calming down and peace rose in the nations, you started to think that maybe, just this once...you hadn’t any danger to worry over.

Then you woke one morning to blurred vision, hot wetness dripping down the side of your face, and your limbs bound while submerged voices panicked around you.

You had been in a fight the night before, trying to protect your husband, before you were incapacitated and left to die. Hilda discovered you when the two of you didn’t show for morning training. The Queen of Almyra was assaulted; the King was taken.

It would be a painful few days before you could strategize without getting a headache. But it was imperative that the Golden Deer reassemble and hunt down your husband’s captors. 

Who would have it out for him, besides the obvious? After all, countless threats had been extinguished following the end of the five year war.

At this point, you weren’t worried so much about “who” as you were “where”. If your husband was in danger and you couldn’t find him...that needed to change as soon as possible. 

Hilda searched like a madman; she knew how frightened you were, and it made perfect sense given that she was also best friends with the man. She knew how it felt to have a part of you ripped away all of a sudden. 

She was with Raphael and Ignatz, who put their tracking skills to use as best they could. You remained on the ground, where Marianne was basically by your side constantly. Seteth and Flayn had traveled from the monastery all the way to Almyra, where they needed to make sure you were safe and recovering.

Seteth’s concern wasn’t that troublesome man, he snapped at you, applying the herbal salve to the deep gash on your head, it was your health.

But he would be lying if he didn’t understand your fear. Claude wasn’t his favorite individual, but he knew how deeply you cared for the man- he would do whatever he could to help you bring him home.

Flayn made sure to keep your health on the road to recovery with Marianne walking in lockstep beside her.

You didn’t enjoy all the extra attention; it was too much trouble. You weren’t the one who needed help- Khalid did.

Sleep was rare on the days where no information was found. There were minimal clues, little to nothing for you to go by, and as far as you were aware...he was just gone.

You didn’t know what to do, and you could only think about what was happening to him. Or rather, what you thought was happening. Hilda told you not to think on such things; otherwise you’d look like Marianne when she was still a student.

You wanted to at least humor her advice, but how could you? Where were you supposed to find any semblance of mirth when Claude wasn’t safe in your arms?

Your fists would clench at every meeting where the same thing was repeated b y the reconnaissance team.

Nothing was found, nothing to report.

For two weeks straight, that was the answer you always received.

You weren’t sure you could handle a third. 

It was midnight on the turn of the week that saw Hilda bursting into the bedroom with that fanatical sparkle in her eyes.

They had a hint. A solid, confirmable lead.

They had found Claude’s signet ring.

Fallen from a great height, likely being carried on the back of a wyvern. It was Khalid’s beast that had found it in the first place, several hundred miles from the castle and hidden by forest brush. But it was something.

Seteth took you into the air, following Hilda’s directions to regroup with the Deer that had found the ring.

You recognized the bright white beast from quite a distance, spotting him charging along the ground, following a faint trail that he wouldn’t be able to follow from the air.

It was like watching a giant, scaly bear trample an entire forest. It was difficult for the people on the ground to follow, Seteth’s dragon only barely keeping up. The poor thing was just as frantic as you were on the inside.

You rushed after him and refused to stop for miles. The sky would jut begin breaking into sunrise when the wyvern suddenly stopped, growling and whining and chuffing at a very specific point in the ground.

The ground.

“They’re keeping him somewhere below. There’s a hideout, here. We need to find the entrance.” You realized, and found your army quickly spreading out to find the secret door.

“Not to worry, Professor; It can’t be far from here; any Almyran hideaways like this are always quite small. Whoever’s using it is either a bandit or someone who wasn't planning on keeping him here for long. We’re very close to the border of the neighboring country...and they weren’t thrilled with Claude becoming king.”

How many prayers were whispered night after night, begging for begging that Khalid be brought back safe and unharmed/ And now your wishes were becoming reality.

All you had to do was find a way in.

It was Lorenz who spotted the entrance, ushering everyone over to try and formulate some sort of strategy. You didn’t want to just charge in and give Claude more cuts and bruises than he already had.

Unfortunately, your desires were overrun by a very angry wyvern crashing through the door and spitting hellfire through every corridor that it would reach.

Panicked screams filled the air and you launched into action. There would be little time to strategize, after all.

“Marianne! Take Seteth and head down the far east corridor- I want Hilda and Lorenz to the west, and Raphael, you’re with me and Flayn!! Everyone else, take the final hall to the south and do not come back unless you have taken every enemy down or found Claude!!”

And so the investigation began. You were sprinting, refusing to slow down for half a second. If you did, Khalid could be dead.

Raphael muscled his way through the doors, cutting through the wooden old things like it was paper.

You would have been proud of him had you not been so full of worry.

“Pleas, let him be here.” You mumbled to yourself, swerving around the corner and sending Raphael through the door. There was another door smashed, then another, and another. Then, suddenly, you reached the fifth entrance.

There was a shift inside, and then a heavy, wet cough muffled by the door. Raphael wasted no time bringing it down, and thank the Goddess for it.

There, crumpled and pathetically propped up against the wall, was your husband.

“Kh- Claude!!” You nearly forgot yourself as you rushed to him. The chains rattled as he drew further into himself. He was trying to protect himself.

“Oh Sothis- what happened to him?” Marianne gasped, stumbling over herself when she came into the room. The sight of him made the Deer recoil in shock.

Was this truly their fearless leader?

You were far more concerned with getting his eyes open. Your fingers closed, shaking, around those nasty chains. They were broken away from his limbs, at the very least freeing his movement. Then you touched his face, trying to draw his eyes back to you.

“Claude, it’s me. It’s Byleth.” He seemed to shift some at your voice, but you weren’t convinced he could hear you. 

Dried blood was caked on his skin, little remaining of his clothing that wasn’t ripped or torn. There were so many injuries, so much that had been beaten out of him.

“Claude...Claude.” You echoed his name over and over, holding his face in your hands. His eyes were foggy, darkness looming and consciousness fading. Had you been too late?

You bit your lip, fighting back the sob welling in your chest. You pressed closer to him, ignorant of the Deer that were quickly filling the nightmarish space.

It was just the two of you.

“Khalid.” 

Claude’s eyes flickered, if only for a moment. You inched closer and searched for the recognition in his expression. His brow tensed, as though trying desperately to focus on what was in front of him. To figure out if this was real or not.

If he really heard his wife calling his name.

“...By…”

You all but broke down sobbing, right there.

“It’s me. I’m here.” You whispered, “We found you.”

His smile was small and weak, but it was very much so there. You were sure he was laughing, had it not been overwhelmed by a wet cough.

“Oh, baby.” You whispered, “Let’s get you home.”

You held him to your chest as the healers worked their literal magic. He was slumped against you, his back to you while they worked on the most egregious wounds.

The suspicions of terrorism had been correct; countrymen that shared a border with Almyra wanted Claude gone. But not before they got some valuable information from him.

It made your nerves crawl and your arms tighten around him.

Claude was supposed to die.

He was limp against you while they worked, but he was breathing; you wondered if it was because he was too weak to properly move, or because he was truly relieved that he was in your hands, rather than those of a very violent enemy.

A few hours passed before Claude was cleared for movement outside of the room. You helped carry him from the room, Raphael and Seteth by your side and getting him to the caravan that had only just arrived.

It would be a longer journey home, but what mattered was you were bringing a living Claude with you; not a lifeless body.

He didn’t speak after being taken from the hideout, having fallen asleep in your arms. When he woke, though, he was safe and warm, lying in his bed back at home.

Like everything he had suffered through was only a dream.

But when you saw him wake, and he felt you crying silently against him, he knew it was real. Horribly, terribly real.

“S’okay, dearheart.” He rasped to you, his voice hoarse and devoid of any real tonality. He was definitely not back to 100%, but at the very least, he was no longer on the verge of death.

“Khalid...you almost...I-I...nobody knew if you were going to wake back up.” You whispered shakily, squeezing his hand and holding it to your chest. “I thought we were too late.”

“Looks like you got to me just in time.” He replied with a patient smile, though opted not to move his head or body more than he had to. That pain wasn’t going to fade for a long while. “Y-you really...saved me.”

“You stayed with me long enough to get to you.” You stroked his hair tenderly, “I’m just glad that you’re home.”

“Me, too.” There was something akin to a laugh that escaped him, especially when your lips touched his forehead. “Hey, now...y-you missed.”

“Khalid, you’re still weak.”

“You think a kiss is gonna kill me?”

“I’m trying to be gentle with you, you old goat.” You chided him without a lick of anger in your tone. He rolled his eyes and tilted his chin up, prompting a proper kiss.

“Come on. I’m suffering; a-aren’t you gonna ease the pain a little bit?”

“I’ve half a mind to make it worse.” You muttered, but you complied all the same. Your hands rested against his chest with a very gentle touch,

Rather than smacking him upside the head as you were tempted to...you kissed him. It was gentle, and slow, and filled you with warmth you had longed for. Claude tilted his head, turning to deepen the kiss almost enough to get himself into trouble.

You held him to you for as long as possible, breaking away with a soft pop that made Claude blush beneath all those cuts and bruises.

“There’s my girl.” 

“You need to rest.” You whispered, playing with his hair and relishing that dreamy expression on his face. “The sooner you’re back on your feet, the better.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” He murmured, leaning into your touch. “I owe you big time, dearheart.”

“Please. Having you home is more than enough.”

Claude would dismiss your insistence that he needn’t repay you, but the love he felt for you could very rarely be contained. After all, you meant the world to him, and he wasn’t going to stand by and let you give him one nice kiss and then let things go back to normal.

No, the second he could shower you in every gift and form of affection as physically possible, he absolutely would.

You saved his life. 

Just when he thought he couldn’t love you anymore than he already did...you proved that there was so much more inside him, a thousand fold.

He would spend every second of the rest of his life showing you just how much you meant to him.

#claude #byleth #fe 16 #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #claudeleth #claudleth #claude x byleth #kidnapping prompt #reverse kidnapping #fe fictions #fe-fictions #f!byleth #fem!byleth #f!mu #angst #hurt and comfort #byleth to the RESCUE #poor beat up claude #gonna need lots of cuddles to recover U m U

[little-peril-stories]

The Queen of Lies: Masterlist

THE QUEEN OF LIES is a tale of quiet courage, inner strength, and forbidden love—and the ways we can change our lives for the better if only we take a leap of faith.

Story Intro | Content Warnings | Mood Board | Vibey Song Lyrics | Ao3

I sold myself to a loveless thing / And I walk’d to the altar and there I lied

- C.W.S., Harper’s Weekly, 7 July 1866

The Whipping Post: Breanna Hatchett witnesses a brutal punishment while searching for her husband at the prison where he works.

The Constable and His Wife: Breanna recovers from her shock; Baden learns that she saw everything at the whipping post.

Worthwhile: The thief wonders if he's seeing things after the flogging.

The Looking Glass: Breanna goes out for lunch and gets some advice from a friend.

The Boy in Chains: Breanna visits the thief in prison.

Real: The thief goes through his usual coherent, polite internal monologue during the visit from some woman named Bree.

Stealth and Secrets: Breanna does several things she isn't supposed to do.

Guilty: Gysborne takes a sick day, which provides an interesting opportunity for the thief.

I Never Even Knew Your Name: Another visit? Some might say this girl is playing with fire.

Deceived: The thief's POV on Breanna's third visit.

Liar: The thief faces the consequences of Hatchett finding out about Breanna's visits.

Retribution and Regret: Breanna starts off in the depths of despair and ends up with a plan.

Worthless: For the thief, the aftermath from Breanna's third fateful visit continues.

The Queen of Lies: Breanna takes a leap of faith.

Faith and Freedom: Finally free, Breanna and the thief make their way through the city under cover of darkness.

Dawn: The thief wakes up and realizes that, yes, he really is free. Time for some awkward getting-to-know-you conversations.

Hope and Healing: Bree and Fox slowly recover, getting to know each other better as the days go on.

The Drop, Part I: Bree and Fox begin to search for IA's inner circle.

The Drop, Part II: Fox drops his message and visits the townhouse, then stumbles across an interesting altercation on his way back to the inn.

The Mark of Thieves: Well, what else is there to do while you're waiting to hear back from the inner circle?

The Stranger: Will goes to retrieve their belongings from the inn; Bree makes a new friend.

Trust and Treachery: Bree tries to find her place in Iustitia aecum. No one's plans for anything go as expected (or desired).

What Did He Do To You?: Husband and wife are reunited.

A Worthless Criminal Condemned: Will and Geoff make a run for it; Colette finds out what happened to Bree and Jamie.

Her Speech is Nothing: Bree must face the consequences of her actions...and her lies.

The Madwoman: Bree spends her first night at the asylum, meeting her doctor, a kind patient and a not-so-kind nurse.

The Madman: Will is struck with an idea that just might help Bree escape the asylum. But setting it in motion is a risky move.

Nullum Magnum Ingenium: Bree receives a visitor, a gift, a spark of hope, and a terrible revelation.

#lps the queen of lies #masterlist #whump #whump writing #whump story #wip: breanna hatchett au #original writing #original story #original content #lady whump #guy whump #everyone whump #romance #angst #writeblr #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity

[dracodazaii]

A Mother’s Disappointment

Rhaella confronting her son, and his paramour Lyanna after the destruction faced in Westeros

How could this all go wrong?

Rhaella’s own flesh and blood, grown showcased the mistakes of man yet doomed to repeat it. Aerys was a blight on the realms, yet her poor son Rhaegar acted so callously, causing a war the likes never seen before in centuries.

Even King Aerys, the infamous madman himself, did not create astronomical damage alike to his progeny.

The philosophical heir, the presumed prince to bring peace and greatness to Westeros, restoring the blunders of his father.

Now he stands in front of his beloved mother shamelessly, with his vagabond of a mistress, and his collection of cowardly Kingsguards.

How dare they stand in front of Rhaella Targaryen.

These alleged protectors of the realm preach their vows of duty and honour in the name of the King, to justify standing idly by as her brother-husband mistreats her, beats her and rapes the frail women into submission.

Yet now they act as turncloaks and betrayers to the King, in the name of Rhaegar and his harlot wolf-girl.

The frail, pregnant women gathers all the power she can muster, and strikes her foolish son with the culmination of rage released from the depths of her heart filled with disappointment.

His three underlings gape back in shock, undetermined in how to act as their admirable king has been slapped by the now Queen-mother, the women they once witnessed numerously battered and downtrodded by the previous king. Rhaegar’s paramour Lyanna also gazes at her presumed-mother-in-law acting unexpectedly, unlike the frail southern flowers she presumed everyone below the North would be in temperment.

“Mother! Why did you slap me? I’ve won the war and returned back in great health. This is cause for celebration, not to attack me!” Rhaegar retorted in response to the unanticipated assault on himself by the mother he cherishes dearly.

“Have you no decency Rhaegar? After witnessing your father’s mistakes, I thought you would grow up respectful and kind with the values I taught you unlearning the evil tendencies of your father.”

“Yet here you stand with your mistress and guards, as you flaunted about carelessly in poor Elia’s homeland while the realm was set ablaze due to your actions!” Rhaella’s fury was unleashed and unrestrained, her eyes never once leaving the guilt-filled lavender eyes of her firstborn son.

Lyanna impulsively retaliated snidely, “I’m no mistress! Rhaegar and I’s love is pure and true, witnessed by both Gods Old and New! That Martell crone is of no consequence in our love!”

The Kingsguard beside her, Arthur Dayne of Dorne sends a disapproving gaze filled with shame.

Shame in participating in this foolish excursion of two wayward lovers. Shame in betraying the Princess of his land and participating in the humiliation of Elia Martell in front of all, nobles and smallfolk alike.

“You let your little whore call your wife, the mother of your children that? I see now that all I taught you was irrespective, as Aerys blood truely runs through you.”

“At least your father had the courtesy to not outwardly flaunt his mistress to me and abscond with her!” Rhaella counters in anger at the total absurdity of the situation.

The gallivanting prince whines in shame, “Mother, I’m not immoral like father! This was a duty of mine, to provide the realm with the conqueror’s reborn to face the northern threat.”

His mother rebuts this claim, “And yet this somehow led you to run away with the betrothed of the Baratheon Lord! Doing so caused a war, you fool!”

Lyanna Stark immediately screeches back to Rhaella, at the name of her previous-betrothed, “I didn’t want to marry that boarish oaf! He already has a bastard child! Love is sweet but it cannot change his nature!”

“And so you abandoned your family to gallivant off with a man with two children, and a pregnant wife instead.” The Targaryen matriarch retorts, illustrating the incredulous hypocrisy of the arrogant wolf-girl.

The Stark women growled in a pathetic attempt at silent as she grows red as a prune in mortification.

Her immoral deeds have been showcased off to everybody in the room witnessing the argumentative nature of Lyanna’s meeting with her mother-in-law.

“These callous actions of yours led to the murder of both your brother and father and yet you have nothing to say now!”

“I’m done with you imbeciles. Rhaegar, I tried the right ways on how to act, yet you and your cronies acted so badly to the extent of war!”

“I’m heading back to Dragonstone with Viserys. Hopefully him and my next child will grow to be nothing like you. My eldest son. My biggest failure.” Rhaella then storms off, away from the unpleasant scene. Unable to face the blunders caused in the rebellion as a result of her son.

Lyanna stewed silently in shameful fury.

Rhaegar now filled with shame, yet unwilling to accept the fact that his pursuit of Lyanna Stark in the name of prophecy was a foolish endeavour.

Arthur Dayne lingered in the room, feeling disgusted with himself for following these scandalous nobles. In attempt to become a man worthy of the Kingsguard, worthy of the titles he has been given, as a result of his skills and his supposed noble attitude, yet he had led himself to ruin. Led Westeros to ruin.

Nobody continued to speak, silence ensued while the figures stood unsure of themselves. Awkward in the fact they had to face the consequences of their actions.

[katyspersonal]

Canon ship-worthy Bloodborne moments (compiling in case if I need it)

+ Gascoigne and Viola are an actual canon couple, even with two daughters!

+ The way Maria is concerned about Adeline's well-being specifically, with not wanting her to become blood saint and giving her the key, and Adeline likewise keeping her in mind

+ Gascoigne and Henryk were hunting in a pair! Possibly what hunters do often (for 360 degree vision so no beast crawls from behind), but that can be a good bond, plus clearly Henryk still cares for Gascoigne. (can never be 100% sure if Henryk is an actual 'grandpa' figure or they just refer a close family friend this way or that's just how they explained that to a little girl sdhdsh)

+ Other characters kicking our ass in a pair - like Forgotten Madman and his escort guy, the two ladies near Surgery Altar, two Hunters of Despair, two Yahar'gul hunters near the chapel). Honourable mention - the three Yahar'gul hunters that smashed a convenient lamp, and 'Djura and his three companions'.

+ Ebrietas grieving Rom ;-; Well, "death" for Great Ones probably is a bit different than for actual mortals, but in either case she has a reason to miss her in a loss kind of way

+ "Yharnamites don't like talking about their history" [ten minutes later] Hunter meets Alfred who is nothing BUT happy to infodump them about Yharnam's story and his special interest xD

+ Adella stalking hunter from around the corner and being way too concerned about the fact hunter accepts "dirty" blood, to the point of murdering Arianna if we do that too much. Questionable as it is a yandere trope but it is here.

+ Gehrman having such tender feelings for Maria that the warmth he put in her hair ornament moved the Doll to the point of crying tears of joy + Maria having very good feelings towards him (idealisation, admiration, crush - the word for it is vague in original and can mean many things). At least until she presumably was disappointed with his "curiosity". (could also be platonic, though)

+ The way Gehrman calls out for Laurence in his nap.

+ The way Valtr speaks of other League members. Honourable mention - Madaras Twin attacks you not only if you attacked Valtr, but also if he willingly passed the status to the hunter and numbers game'd himself. Clearly he is in the League not for the mission but for Valtr, and he just knows you are to blame if Valtr is gone.

+ Micolash and Wet Nurse are both against Queen Yharnam as she is crying near Wet Nurse's boss arena where her child is, implying she can't enter. Basically Mico and Wet Nurse raise the same child they kidnapped xD Feels like a very family activity, even if he clearly thinks about other women (Kos, or some say Kosm) in the bed :(

+ Whatever happened between Dores, Willem and Gatekeeper. Lore says both Dores and Gatekeeper accompanied Willem in the dungeons and lost their sanity together, but still remained loyal to their lord, take as you will.

+ Annalise and the deceased king of Cainhurst. It could have been a loving/voluntary marriage!

+ For the same reason, Queen Yharnam and whoever was her 'husband'. Depending on your versions it could be Oedon or some pthumerian guy blessed by the ritual from ring of bethrothal. Either case, she was SOMEONE's bride.

+ Emilia and Laurence, potentially! Could be entirely parasocial (as her growing around narrative of Laurence rather than knowing him), or entirely religious, but more or less it lays plain than average potential ship.

+ Edgar attacking us leads to him protecting Micolash, that doesn't line up with his affiliation with the Choir. He also does that 'Joy' gesture if he kills us XD Could be him having lost his sanity and controlled, but also it could be his decision.

+ Yamamura has throwing knives in his data, that are trademark of Henryk! Considering both characters were in the League, it could mean Henryk taught him to throw them, and considering Valtr's praised intimacy between the members... yeah

+ Whatever went down between like, four characters. Simon speaks fondly of Ludwig, Yamamura recites Healing Church hunters' prayer in the jail cell, Yamamura being a summon for Yahar'gul, another Yahar'gul hunter (not Antal btw) being in the same jail, Gratia being in the same jail, Simon having Fist of Gratia in his data... Anything could have happened between either of characters!

+ When we attack Lonely Old Dear, she notices the 'just like your father' - past the point she began confusing us for her child, so she has had a husband.

+ Julie attacking us when even Willem himself urges us to hunt Rom, and EVEN Damian, a Mensis Scholar is a summon to fight Rom. Could be her winning time for Imposter Iosefka, or could be her protecting Rom even despite common sense.

+ Potential of Crow of Cainhurst loving either Queen Annalise or Maria. He serves the Queen as the guard seeking blood dregs in blood-drunk hunters, but also Old Hunter's Bone is Maria's.

#bloodborne #use later #fandomry rambles #naturall all could also be read as platonic but i just make this list in case i need very solid base! #(well as 'solid' as soulsborne could get) #feel free to add more if I forgot! #val!!!! i see you are smiling as you want to add 'the way snatcher holds you when he strangles you'!!!!!!! #do not!!!!!! #/j #i tried to not mention basically coworkers like maria + brador or izzy + archibald tho #but yeah the well goes deep #i just wanted to focus on what developers were more certain about showing us #the fact they hid fist of gratia with simon and knives with yamamura tho...... the DEPTH of subtlety #if you ask me yamamura x simon or yamamura x that yahar'gul hunter are THE shit #and gratia is just a friend that does poly intervention sometimes to stop fights but is not big into romance herself #she is more interested in punching things xd #but yeah devs tried to tell us.. something #maria's broken heart on gratia as she goes insane and then dies has good potential tho...

[youleavethetardisbrakeson]

Modern Christmas AU where the Velaryons decide they’ve had enough of dealing with their extended relatives and their kids are teens so why not take their superyacht (because obviously they have a superyacht) down to the Southern hemisphere for a summer Christmas.

Corlys spends too much time selecting which bay they should park up at for the day (only the best for his family) before he gets to cooking up a seafood Christmas lunch in his newest novelty apron courtesy of Laena. The kids spend their whole day swimming in the water or jetski racing to the amusement of anyone that’ll watch. Rhaenys indulges them in one race but she won so convincingly they declared she wasn’t allowed to participate further. She spends the rest of the day breezing about the yacht with a glass of white wine in hand, repeatedly reminding Corlys of the time she took him on the jetski with her (he held on so tightly she loved it until she realised he was restricting her breathing; he promptly declared he would stick to captaining larger yachts and not that death trap she called the Red Queen). After the sun sets it’s just the two of them curled up on the top deck watching the stars and they’re sun-kissed and salty and tipsy but it’s just their little family unit and god they’re relaxed.

This turned into a slight novel (it started as me thinking of a very specific location and then I had a mimosa and it all just kinda poured out) but one day I shall be Rhaenys on a superyacht drinking wine. Just need the superyacht…and the hot husband and kids. And as it is now officially Christmas Day down here in summer land MERRY CHRISTMAS! Have a wonderful day!!

MERRY CHRISTMAS! I hope you get a superyacht 😆

Thank you for the wonderful headcanon! This whole thing is 10/10. Cheers to the mimosa 😄

Now I can't stop thinking of Rhaenys in some fashionable blue bathing suit and coverup, her hair in a braid. MEGA sized sunglasses. And yes of course, some white wine! (and maybe a sea breeze? 😉)

Corlys' swim trunks would have seahorses on them, of course. And he'd be attacking that seafood lunch like a madman. The shellfish never stood a chance.

#ask #modern au #christmas headcanons #rhaenys targaryen #corlys velaryon

[tomtenadia]

For the love of a kingdom - 22

Are you ready for a bit of angst?

CW: language

“Rowan…”

Aedion kneeled and grabbed the man “hey, wake up.”

The man in his arms was burning hot and was unconscious “Lorcan!” Voice thick with panic.

The dark-haired man reached him in a moment and swore at the scene “what the fuck happened?”

“I went to open the door and he collapsed at my feet.”

“Let me help you carry him in his bed.”

The group stood and watched the two men carry Rowan’s body. Yrene followed them quickly after having grabbed her bag.

“What happened?” She asked with deep worry.

“I don’t know.”

“Both of you, out.”

Lorcan growled “I am not moving from here.”

“I need to check on him,” replied the woman, not intimidated by the hug fae.

“I am not leaving the fucking room, healer.”

Yrene gave up “fine, you stay aside and let me work.”

The woman studied the body and could not spot any sign of physical injury so the next step was to rule out poison. Her magic reached out but nothing stirred. Magical injury then. She send out her powers again but retracted her hand all of a sudden “what the fuck?”

“What?” Asked Lorcan worried by hearing the woman swear.

Yrene tried once more and the same feeing hit her. The magic was too powerful and was reacting with hers. Dark tendrils had started to seep out of Rowan every time she pushed her magic.

“What was that?”

Yrene did not answer and kept on trying to assess the sleeping warrior. His skin was burning hot and she sensed his powers were missing, dormant.

“So?”

“He is in a sort of suspended state. His magic well is empty and he is burning up. Whatever is affecting him is far beyond my powers.”

Lorcan moved closer dangerously “so what? Are you leaving him like that?”

Yrene stood in front of him in challenge “no, but at the moment there is nothing I can do until I know what I am facing.”

The tall man stormed out and Yrene sat back beside Rowan and placed a cold rag on his forehead “please come back. We all need you. Aelin too…”

*

In the common room the group was all gathered together and the guys were making plans. Aedion was pacing like a madman “we need to find Aelin”

“We were out in the woods,” added Gavriel “we scouted them and found no trace. She is gone.”

“Then get out again.” He shouted at his father.

Gavriel stood and nodded at Connall and Fenrys and the three walked out of the outpost.

Lysandra left Aidan with Elide and walked to her husband “that is not how you treat your father.”

He growled “they have another form, they can be out there without being spotted. Being useful it’s better than staying here and do nothing,” he shouted and the whole room fell silent “I can’t lose Aelin.” Lysandra wrapped her arms around her husband at the deep pain in his voice “We will find her.” 

**

Aelin woke up with a scream. She sat up abruptly and felt cold. The room around her was freezing but the coldness was deep in her. There was a hole, something missing. She had no idea where she was and her mind felt fuzzy, confused. Aelin stood and walked around the room trying to figure out her surroundings. On a chair there was a long black dress. Her fingers caressed the smooth fabric. Slowly she peeled off the dark leathers she was was wearing and wore the long black dress.

In a daze she left the room and walked, barefoot until she reached a big black door. It felt familiar.

She opened the door and entered an imposing oom with what looked like a throne in the middle. Aelin stopped and saw a woman appear from the shadows.

She felt a pull and a second later she was bowing to her “my queen…”

“Aelin, my darling, it’s good to see you.”

“Where am I?” She asked, her voice unsure as she too in the room.

“You are home, my dear niece.”

“Home?”

Maeve walked to her “I need you to do something for me. Find the rebels and kill them all.”

Aelin tilted her head “rebels.”

“Yes, Aelin. You know where they are. They want to hurt you and I want them all dead.”

“Yes, my queen.” Aelin bowed once more and left.

She exited the mansion and started walking to a location that she had no idea how she knew it. She walked in the cold night, trudging through the woods, always following that sense in her that told her where to go. It took her hours when she finally reached the location. It was a farm out in the mountains. She stopped outside and all of a sudden knew what to do. Her fire was alive in her once more, flames flicked at her fingers. She lifted her hand and stared at the fire dance mesmerised.

Then she pushed deeper in her well and unleashed the fire over the farmhouse. Burn… she whispered. Burn… people started to run out screaming, the rebels. Aelin’s head turned and looked at them flee. A blonde man looked at her.

“Aelin?”

She stared at him with curiosity.

“Aelin… come here…”

She moved back “burn…” she whispered and the flames rose.

In the distance she saw a dark haired man carry a silver haired one and place him on the grass and she felt a tug. She took a step closer to them. The fire faltered but she ignored the screams around her, her eyes only on the man in the group. She kneeled and her hand brushed his hair while a word resonated in her. Mate. 

“Are you fucking crazy?” The blonde man was at her side and was shouting but she had eyes only for the silver haired man. He was in pain, she could feel him.

“Aelin, you answer me!”

Aelin rose and faced the man “I had to…” she said in a lifeless voice “for my queen.”

A lot of people stared at her and Aelin felt the dark tendrils pull tighter, her fire died once more “you are the enemy.”

Lorcan grabbed Aelin and his hand landed on her throat, but Aedion pulled him away helped by Gavriel “hey, let her go.”

“That bitch tried to cook us alive. That fucking bitch.”

A powerful punch connected with Lorcan’s face “you stay away from her.”

Aelin ignored the commotion and walked back to the silver haired man. Her mate. She sat at his side and for an instant the black tendrils loosened on her heart. She lay down at his side and wrapped her arm around him. 

A set of powerful hands ripped her away from him and the pain came back. She screamed as they dragged her away.

“You stay away from him.” Another blonde man, younger “leave Rowan alone.”

“Rowan…” another whisper as she stared at him in on the ground. 

Fury burst out of her. Her mate, those people were taking her mate away from her. She could not allow that. Maeve was right. They were all enemies.

Flames erupted once more from her “Stay away from him.” 

With flames all around them, she walked to Rowan and lifted him in her arms and with the cover of the flames she walked away.

*

As Aelin left, the flames died too.

“Where’s Rowan?” Bellowed Lorcan “that bitch took him.”

Aedion was about to attack but Gavriel stopped him “Let’s all calm down.”

“She attacked us. She almost killed us.” This time it was Connall.

“There was something wrong with her,” Yrene joined the men “ I felt an energy. That was not our Aelin.”

“Fuck no. that was a crazy bitch.” Shouted Lorcan pacing furiously.

“You need to stop using that word,” Elide stopped in front of her and stared at him with determination.

“What do we do now?” Asked Yrene.

Lysandra while holding her son to her chest moved forward “the castle. Perrington is gone. We can camp there. They know me Elide and Yrene. We will be fine.”

Aedion looked at his wife “That is the best idea,” then went to grab his son “let’s go, the snow is thick and it might take a while. We’ll gather the bane on they way into town.”

One by one they filed away.

“Let’s just hope it’s safe.” Added Vaughan.

“You are just taking us rebels into your sanctuary.”

“We are all rebel now, Fenrys,” added Gavriel quietly.

**

Aelin walked away from the fire and from the rebels. The man in her arms the only thing that mattered to her. She found a clearing with a cave and disappeared in it. She deposited the man on the ground and brushed his hair once more. He was unwell. She could feel it. Aelin sat at his side and leaned her head on his shoulder while an arm wound around his waist. The darkness seemed to dissipate, “Rowan…” she knew that name and some memories tried to force their way back.

“You are safe,” her hand twinned in his and something happened. Tendrils of light sparked and they wound around her hand, spreading up her arm. She felt like she could breath again, her mind cleared up as that strange magic seeped back in her. Aelin looked around confused and when she turned, green eyes looked at her.

“Aelin?”

Air rushed back in her lungs and she felt his hand squeeze hers and the magic grew stronger, enveloping them both in an orange and blue cocoon. She stared at it mesmerised.

Rowan’s hand was on her cheek and she started crying as the memories of what she had done flooded back “I am a monster…” she stood quickly “stay away from me. I am a monster.”

Rowan stood with difficulty, his body still recovering from whatever knocked him down. He walked to Aelin and extended his hand but she stepped back “no, you need to stay away from me. I almost killed them,” she sobbed “ I need to go…” Aelin started to turn and run but Rowan grabbed her and pulled her to his chest “No. I am not letting you go again. What happened to you Aelin?”

Some of the darkness came back and she felt like suffocating once more “darkness,” she whispered “there’s a darkness in me.”

Rowan enveloped her tight once more and the darkness disappeared. She snuggled against his chest and felt tears fall “I am so scared. She did something to me.”

Rowan froze “Who?”

“Maeve, her magic is in me. She pushed me to attack you all. I had no choice,” she confessed against his chest “my mind started to clear as soon as I felt you again.”

“The carranam…” added Rowan while kissing her head, then he looked down and searched for her eyes “we will fix this.”

Aelin looked down and noticed her dress “I need to change.” She pulled back “ I need to get rid of this,” her voice panicked.

“There’s a village nearby, we’ll get you some clothes.”

They started walking and Aelin never left his hand as if to keep a hold to sanity and to her true self.

The village appeared after an hour and they scouted until they saw some woman’s clothes hanging outside. Aelin grabbed trousers, a shirt and a jacket and they ran away before they got caught. Rowan took her to a cave and let her alone inside to change. When she appeared again Aelin looked like herself again. He walked to her and kissed her deeply pushing her further into the cave. Aelin responded to him and he felt passion rise. The carranam bond exploded around them and their hideout lit up in blues and oranges “Never leave me again…”

“I am sorry,” she whispered against his lips “I am so damn sorry.”

Rowan lifted her in his arms and he deposited her on the ground, her flames danced around to warm up the place and Rowan kissed her again “I love you.”

Her hands fisted in his long hair while his face dipped in her neck.

“I am yours,” she whispered “ I am all yours.”

Rowan’s fangs pierced her neck and Aelin’s felt the darkness leave her. The power of the carranam bond rippling through her and chasing away all the magic Maeve had lashed on her.

And as they joined magic sung all around them. 

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @courtofjurdan​ @whimsicallyreading​ @themoonthestarsthesuriel​ @aelin-bitch-queen​ @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity​ @acreativelydifferentlove @mis-lil-red​ @thegreyj​ @sailorsassley​ @leiawritesstories​ @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire​ @sv0430​ @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon​ @rowanaelinn​ @backtobl4ck​ @susumaus98​ @gracie-rosee​ @mybloodrunsblue​ @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah​ @whoever-you-choose-to-love​ @theywillnotsingforme​ @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water​ @goddess-aelin​

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin x rowan #aelin galathynius

[elithegnome]

EngKat fanfiction for @koolkat9

guest appearances from: @newhetaliafan @piscesgirl2020

Kat yawned, climbing up the three steps to the door of the house she shared with her husband. That day, said girl’s boss (NAMED MR.CLATORFF) made you stay at work late, from 9:00 AM to 9:00 PM as opposed  to the usual 9:00 to 5:00 shift, and she felt exhausted as all hell. Keys jingling, she fumbled with the lock of the blue door, eventually succeeding allowing the blonde (??? The hair looked blonde in your pfp used with those EngKat edits but idk???) to walk into the light yellow entryway. 

“Artie, I’m home!” The newly-arrived lassie called, slipping off your shoes. 

As always, Kat expected the blond haired man to sprint up to her figure and tightly squeeze her into an embrace, but he never came. Concerned, she trudged into the kitchen, peeping around every corner, and he wasn’t there either. With worry,

the Canadian ran to the couch, forcing herself to sit down and pull her cell phone from her pocket. Just as Kat began to dial Arthur, a certain loud individual called you.

“Hello.” She greeted the caller politely.

“Y/N! We kinda need you man!” Eli yelled into the receiver.

“Uhm, Eli I have to decline your offer dear.” The woman refused in the kindest tone possible, “I’m actually looking for my husband at the moment-“

“Oh well today’s your lucky day!” The little midget creature half-shrieked, “He’s right here with me.”

“Well, where are you?”

“…”

“Eli? You there.”

“At the bar down your street.” Eli chuckled sheepishly.

Kat groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You idiot, when I get there I would like a full explanation!”

With that, she clicked the red button, before running upstairs to change clothes. It was going to be a long night for a certain person…

*timeskip*

Kat crashed her way into the bar, glancing around desperately for her husband and whoever accompanied him. Thankfully, he was at the bar, surrounded by five people she’d recognized. His friends, Vladimir and Lukas, and your acquaintances (Okay I don’t know PiscesGirl2020’s or NewHetaliaFan’s names so I’m just making shit up at this point) Pisces, Nefa and Eli. 

Walking towards Mr Thicc Brows, Kat heard him slur his words, a glass of whiskey in hand.

“I’m nOt DrUnK Nefa!” He hollered like a madman.

“Can you even tell the time?” Vladimir raised an eyebrow, pointing at his watch.

“Yes I bLoOdy CAN!” Arthur grabbed the Romanian’s wrist with one hand and pointed at it accusingly with the other,

“I’m NOT fucking drunk!” 

Kat clamored over to the Englishman, grabbing his shoulders roughly. Turning his seat, the girl glared into his green eyes with her  (oh idk I’m legally blind and I need new glasses are they like…amber????) set.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here.” Kat gritted through her teeth.

Arthur used his index finger to face towards Eli, who kind of just shrugged like some kind of dope.

“Look, I invited Pisces and Nefa, who asked to bring Norge here. Lukas asked to bring Vladimir who said he was bringing Arthur. So technically it’s Dracula’s fault here-“

“For the last time my name is NOT Dracula!”

“Shut it or I’ll bring a cross next time!”

“No don’t please-“

Kat rolled her eyes and proceeded to Hoist Arthur to his feet. With that, the aggravated girl proceeded to drag him out of the door.

“Is he going to live through the night?” Lukas scoffed like the SASSY LIL QUEEN HE IS.

“Jeg vet ikke!” She replied at them in a partially aggressive tone. 

(Means: ‘I don’t know’)

“I know that Kat’s not going to be too happy about this.” Pisces shuddered slightly.

Nefa nodded and added to her statement, “Good luck to Iggy.” 

————————————————————

Practically dragging her intoxicated partner, Kat grumbled curses under her breath. Arthur’s left arm was slumped around Kat’s shoulders, practically pushing you to the ground from his weight. 

“God Arthur-“ You grunted, “Why did you have to do this of tonight of all nights?”

The blond chuckled, “BeCAUsE! I said so- Hey you’re almost as hot as my wife!”

“That’s because I am your wife.” 

He went silent for a few seconds, allowing his outraged spouse to scold him the rest of the walk to the house. After minutes of struggle, they’d finally managed to arrive at their home. 

“Get inside.” The now absolutely gonna-fucking-explode-mom-type-of -angry wife o’ Iggy commanded, Arthur lying face first on the doormat.

“No!” He shouted, “You’re not mY mOm!”

Fed up with his shit, she yanked on his wrists, which he replied to with a screech like that of an owl. (HEDWIG?!?!?!?)

That night was like hell, and even worse for him when he woke up the next day. 

“Ughh, Kat, my head hurts.” Arthur groaned

“Yeah.” His wife scoffed, slamming her book shut (The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller or something idk)”You went out drinking and it was awful to deal with.”

The Brit’s face flushed a vibrant pink shade before he started to speak again, “Oh, I’m sorry dear.”

The woman smirked and leaned in to kiss his lips, with the Brit giving in and pressing back.

“It’s fine Artie, I love you too much to be mad about it forever.” Kat cooed, pulling him into a warm embrace.

“I love you too Kat.”

————————————————————

I feel like I may have made a fool of myself writing this, as I kept getting distracted and laughing about the potato chips I was eating while writing this story. God I hate ADHD 🥲- But anyway, hopefully this was enjoyable enough. (Not me knowing I need to find better synonyms lmfao)

[the-fiction-witch]

The Spoils Of War P9

Media IRL X Fantasy

Character Thomas Brodie Sangster

Couple TBS x Reader

Rating Smut + Dark

Series The Spoils Of War

Smut: Fondling / HJ / Cowgirl 

I stood by the mirror getting into my nice little dress, it was going to be much like a party I suppose, the rejoice across the kingdom at new royals taking the throne, as well as the execution of a madman.

"How the hell do you stop it falling off your head" Thomas complained behind me making me giggle as I saw him in  the mirror dressed fairly well too much like how he arrived at the castle to collect me, battling with the crown as it constantly slipped off his head every time he so much as breathed I giggled and took the crown quickly before it tumbled off his head again

"straight back, don't slouch, suck  in  your stomach," I said making him do as I had said "Then we sit" I smiled sitting it back on his head

"I don't have much of a stomach to suck"

"then take a big breath in and hold it in your diagram" I explained

"I feel so unnatural I'm meant to walk around like this?"

"Welcome to royalty my love" I smiled

"This is how you feel all the time?"

"Yes I do"

"My God, I understand why you always wanna sit down," he says

"Oop!" I giggled catching the crown as it again toppled from his head "alright, then we cheat" I smiled

"what are you doing?"

"They both have little secret sections on the inside in case we have these kinds of troubles, you tie your hair around them, then they can't fall off" I smiled as I began working tieing his hair around it

"Doesn't that mean it's a nightmare to take off though?"

"Yes. but it stops it falling off your head during ceremonies and such" I explained "Just means you need a little help at the end of the day"

"Alright, so long as you help me out of it again"

"I will" I giggled "I promise"

"Good,"

"There we go" I smiled "That now should not fall off your head"

"Thank you,"

"It'll be okay for the execution, and other little rare occasions you'll wear it"

"Arthur wore it all the time"

"well... Arthur had issues. with his confidence around the crown so he liked to wear it all the time"  I explained

"Maybe because he wasn't snuggling with his queen"

"How did everyone know about that?" I asked doing my make-up

"Ohh come on it was commonly known before you two were even married that he.... enjoyed his servants and advisors"  he explained "How did you think I and the rest of the kingdoms knew you where still a cute little virgin"

"Still" "I know. Later my queen" he smirked kissing my forehead

I smiled holding Thomas' hand tightly as we walked down the castle steps into the courtyard where our army all stood, and there in the centre in chains was the cause of all this trouble. The southern king, the invader of my kingdom, murder of my first husband, usurper of my throne, having imprisoned me and shoved me off to a lord he owed debts like I was a horse or a bag of gold, held my throne long enough to destroy my kingdom and my legacy, and dragging the man I love across the land to war and he now stood in chains in our courtyard. We walked down to the courtyard close enough to him to see his forsaken face. "evening" "You evil bastard" he grunted at us "Do you have anything to say for your self before your execution" "You boy. Will never be a king. Bastard boy of a southern lord rasied alone by a whore, the only reason your daddy didn't want you six feet under was because his favorite little whore got sick of him and bit his balls off. Just because you think you defeated me, set the crown apon your head doesn't make you the king." He spat "neither does fucking that little whore of yours" Before he could say another word Thomas hit him hard enough it clearly caused him pain putting a dagger to his throat "I would think you'd have leant by now. Not to disrespect her. She's not some little whore, she's the princess you uprooted from her throne, she's is my queen" he told him "is that all?" "Yes. Go on then you jumped up little shit. Kill me. I assure you that crown will slip from your head before the year is out" "Why?" "Even in death they will follow there rightful king" "Your men turned on you in battle. Left the castle and you defenceless, ran from invaders, you clearly are not there rightful king" he told him "ready the archers!" "Archers?" I asked I looked and saw on the walls of the keep arches, as many as I knew we had, all aimed at him ready to spear him with so many arrows there be no hope of survival I watched as they all readied taking aim apon him but I felt a strange feeling in my stomach. "Stop" I spoke up making everyone seem confused Thomas gave me a concerned look as if asking what the hell I was doing but without vocalising it "adjust your aim. I want ever arrow to fall at his feet" I ordered not a soul moved "Do as your queen commands" Thomas told them They launched there arrows and not a single one hit him all landing inna mess of wood at his feet. "I believe you do not deserve the mercy of death by our skilled archers. You deserve nothing but pain, darkness, and suffering. For everything you have done" I told him "you forced men from there homes, from the arms of the women ans children they love to March north, a battle you knew was likely to fail, a battle you knew most of them where to die and most didn't even want to go, but still you marched them on the wall without care, without concern, without mercy. All because you wanted a crown that was never to be yours, you had no right to it, no claim to it, no single thread that you in any way deserved a crown apon your head. The only reason you even held a southern crown was because you happened to have fallen from the correct woman's pussy to hold it. You marched an army around the south ripping men, and boys from there hopes to fight a war to boost your already heavily over inflated ego" I explained the shuffling and movement of the county yard now silence, even the wind seemed to silence keeping the air still as the sun slowly began to set below the keeps walls, "yet still you marched this attack, on to castles and keeps in the southern and northern kingdoms, any who choose not to side with you, you'd gut them like fish apon there castle steps, you burnt villages, starved towns, casued such a fear in parents in the city that they sent there children to the far north to protect them, they'd stand at the coaches kissing there children as young as two goodbye knowing they would never see them again, sending them to unknown places in the north, a place known to be deadly and inhospitable. You took my first husband from me before I even knew him myself to fight your war, you cut off his head and held him on a spike like he was a hunting prize, and you held his head at the front of your army as you came into my city. My home. You raped women and girls as young as ten, chased and trampled children, burnt houses, looted buildings, destroyed everything that those people held dear to them, walked over there mutilated bodies like it was nothing, like they where just an obstacle. You imprisoned me and let me watch the city I knew burn, you usurped the throne that was rightfully mine, sat in it like you where a child with no respect for the thousands of years of those who had sat in it before you," I explained "you took residence in my home, destroyed art, sculpture, papers and books older then you could even understand burnt the scrolls of those who built the very castle you took, you sat a crown apon your head, a crown of old vallenia a crown made for a king to sit apon the head of every king ever to rule. You had no respect for the people, the history, the rules and laws of this world. You where no king. You where a jumped up commander with delusions of grandeur" I explain "you gave me away like a horse to your commander as if I was nothing." I said a tear in my eye "you have me to a man who for all your knew would abuse me and kill me, but you happened to give me to a man who truly loved me, more so then anyone I have ever known before, and even then you couldn't leave well enough alone, you came into our home, threatened to take me away like he was your child and I was some toy you had bought for him, you threatened to kill me, to use me in sick perverted ways, hurt me in your attempts and treated my second husband like a child, you disrespected us. Under our own roof. You then proceeded to force the man I love into war with you, knowing still that your armies where out numbered outskilled and outmatched in all ways and yet still you risked there lives for your ego to hold onto something you should never have been had. I risked being a widow twice before even knowing the touch of a man, and still when taken prisoner and the crown rightfully in the head on the man I love you still disrespect us, treat is like your bastard children, demanding Respect that you are not owed let alone deserve. You treated me like I was nothing and then cower then that concert comes back to bite you in the ass" I warned  "I am y/n y/l/n, daughter and only child of Marcus and petroca, princess of all of the northern kingdom, last daughter of a dynasty that has ruled this land for the last two thousand years, queen of the north and her dominion, you had no right to give me away, no right to claim my throne for yourself, you do not own me. I am the last of the royal bloodline, the daughter of a dynasty of blood that has spanned longer than anyone dares to recall, born and bred to rule, to sit on a throne build generations ago and lead a whole world without question or resistance from any man, lord or peasant. My kingdom and castle may have been mutilated, my history lost to time, my people abused and mistreated, but you cannot break me. You should have killed me when you had the chance for like a deadly weed if all of it is not destroyed It will return to your detriment." I told him "mercy is not even a word I wish to consider when it comes to you" I told him "bring me a light" I said to the commander who stood by a flaming light he nodded and handed it to me "any last words?" "Fuck you, you pompus little bitch" he screamed at me "Classy. Dignified. And all I can say is... Long live the king" I smirked throwing the light onto the mess of arrows below him it took quickly turning inna few seconds into a raging fire he tried to fight, tried to escape but there was no use, as the flames free higher and his screams grew louder he swore, and cried, and screamed, and begged for mercy, begged to be given the quick release of death, but no. I found a Catholic joy in watching him burn, to almost see the door to hell opening to swallow him for his crimes, the fire lit the courtyard and threw hellish shadows on the castle towers, as the sun set below the walls the fire all that lit us at all, flames dancing across the skin of everyone here, and soon enough his screams silenced "The king is dead." The commander spoke up breaking the silence we had been stood in "Long live the king!" Many shouted beginning to as they always did at the death of a king, proclaiming to the next one "No" Thomas demanded and silence washed over the castle again "Long live the queen" he smiled he took my hand giving it a gentle kiss before he moved to his knees bowing his head to look only at the floor, everyone then took the same matra shouting it enough it echoed thought the sky, many joining him in bowing to me.

After climbing the long seemingly infinate stairs back to our tower bedroom I sighed "You are a very complicated woman" Thomas spoke up having shut up our door "I am?" "Ummmm. You can be. When you wanna be your my cute little innocent princess who needs me to kiss her boo boos and whines because I dare leave the bed when she wanted a cuddle. And then you turn around and pull stuff like that, being a hot, sexy, powerful queen" he smirked giving me a cuddle "I'm sorry..." "Sorry? It's amazing!" He says giving me a kiss "you are full of surprises, and I can't wait to find out more of them" he says "now will you please undo the knots in my hair and get this junk of metal off my head" "Yes Thomas" I giggled helping him take it off, I removed my own sitting them both in the side by the mirror and we both began to get changed ready for bed "what are we gonna do tomorrow?" I asked as I changed "I don't know, we shall just have to see where the day takes us" he smiled climbing into bed "you coming?" He asks tapping the space beside him "Of course!" I smiled jumping in the bed and laying on his chest squeezing him tightly "Ummmm I missed being snuggled in bed with you so bad" "I missed it too" I smiled 'my favorite pillow went away" "Well I'm home now. And I'm not leaving you ever again" he says kissing my head "come on let's get some sleep" he says extinguishing the candle and plunging the room into darkness, I smiled holding him close nuzzling and cuddling with him for a good while but I couldn't escape this though at the back of my head "Psst" I whispered No response "Thomas? Are you still away?" "Ummmm?" He groans "Sorry I didn't want to wake you" "You didn't wake me darling, what's the matter?" "Nothing" "Nothing?" "Umm I wanted to tell you something" "Okay, can it wait till morning or do you wanna tell me now?" "Now" "Alright. Go on then" he yawns "I think I'm ready" "Ready.... To sleep?" "No" I giggled "...........oh. oooohh!" He says "yeah? Tonight?" He asks stroking my waist

"If you'd like to"

"I'm good with tonight if you are?'

"I think so"

"Come here" he smirked pulling me closer gently kissing my lips, I happily kissed back gently we laid kissing for a good while often his hands stroking across my skin and my nightie "we don't have to do anything you don't want to"

"I know"

"I don't want you to think you have to just because I want to or because I'm home or anything else. I only want to if you do"

I smiled and sat up moving to sit on his lap

"I want to" I smiled

"Whoa... okay" he smirked very excited having me sat on his lap his hands on my hips stroking me gently "you sure you wanna do this?"

"I'm sure" I nodded

"Okay, this... the way you wanna do it?" He asks glancing to my hips as he licked his lip a little and I nodded "ummmm okay," he smirked sitting up enough to gently kiss me his hands stroking the back of my nightie as we kissed I moved my hands up his stomach walking my fingers up his chest stroking his skin, he returned the favor and moved to cup my breasts in his hands gently fondling them though my nightie groaning gently into our kiss "fuck. They've grown since I felt then last" he muttered leaning his forehead on my own

"Well it was a long time ago" I giggled

"It was. I'll have to make up for all that... lost time" he smirked grabbing my ass hard "fuck. I've missed you." He groans "did you wanna keep your pretty nightie on or take it off?"

"Which would you rather?"

"I'd rather however my queen is comfortable" he answered

I smirked and slipped off my nightie throwing it on the bed

"Fuck you look good naked" he groans pulling me back to kissing him, I smiled moving my hips closer slipping my hand down his stomach to meet the shorts, instantly I felt his hard on he pulled back gasping as he looked at my hands gentle grip on him "that what you want?"

"Umm Humm"

"Yeah? My pretty little princess want my cock?" he smirked

"Queen" I remind him tapping his nose

"My queen wants my cock so bad why does she just take what's hers" he smirked at me

"Remove your clothes"

"Yes my queen" he smirked slipping his shorts off leaving him naked too..

I smirked kissing him passionately he happily kissed back clearly over egar slightly grinding himself on me

"Excitable aren't you" I smirked holding his hips so he couldn't grind

"How can I not be? I got a taste that night all those years ago, I've wanted to continue ever since. And I've been away from my beautiful queen for so long. I need her desperately"

"I'm sure you do. But your queen shall take her time" I smirked moving my hand down to gently take a grip of his hard erection he gasped biting his mouth I smirked being slow and gentle with him which seemed to only wind him up even more, Once he got fully hard so much I couldn't even squeeze him anymore he was so hard I gave his lips a little kiss and moved back

"Noo...my queen-" He began panicking I was stopping but I gave his head a gently kiss "Uhhhh! No no No! My queen please I'll cum if you do that" He whines

"Already?"

"I've missed you so badly, wanted you so long you can't do that to me I won't last" He groans so I smirked and took him into my mouth gently sucking the moment I did he grabbed my shoulder and tried to mouth fuck me in desperation clearly already more than close so I moved away from pushing his grips away

"Bad boy"

"I did warn you, Please my queen."

"alright, but behave yourself" I warn moving to his lap again it took a couple of tries before He slipped inside me It felt strange being stretched from the inside his head against the headboard moaning loudly with each inch deeper he went

"Ughhhhh fuck you feel so good!" He groaned "so tight. My tight little virgin queen"

"Not anymore" I smirked gently moving my hips to ride him

"No. not anymore. I get to fuck the sweet little virgin queens innocence away"

"what innocence" I smirked pulling him into a kiss he happily kissed back his hands stroking my hips as I began to get faster his hands slightly guiding me his hips meeting mine often making me groan feeling his deep thrusts hitting into such sensitive places

"You can be innocent when you wanna be, but I rather like my sexy in charge little queen" he smirked "fuck I'm close y/n"

"already?"

"You feel too good. I promise I finish before you I'll burry my head between my pretty queen's legs till I make it up to her" He smirked

"Or" I smirked moving one of his hands off my hips as I moved up sitting it gently under me

"Yeah? slow or... merciless my queen?"

"I think you know the answer to that" I smirked as I got faster he smirked back and began rubbing fast and hard on my clit causing me to moan and tighten myself around him making his thrusts hit my sensitive spots much easier, we kept kissing and griping on each other at times scratching across the other's skin as it was clear we were both getting close  

"Y/n! darling! Princess I'm gonna cum!" He groans burying his head in my neck kissing my skin like crazy and groaning with each of his breaths "Ughhhh, I've desired you since the first moment I saw you, uhhh you teased me all those years ago got me so close and then abandoned me, wouldn't even let me take it when you where my prisoner, fuck! your an evil little thing, your an evil sexy queen been wrapped in a sweet virgin princess dress too long, uuuughh make me cum my queen! make me cum! and I swear I'll be your salve the rest of my life"

"Uhh Thomas please. just a little longer" I pleaded knowing how close I was

"I'm not sure I can much longer!"

"AAHHHH!" I squealed hitting a wall of intense pleasure so much I squirted down him grabbing him hard in my grip clawing down his back as I felt this wave wash over me curling my toes, making my hands dig my nails in, my whole body shaking the moment I did his eyes rolled back and he held me tightly too digging his nails into my ass feeling him so as deep in me as possible burying his seed inside me we both collapsed his back against the headboard and me against him, getting our breaths back I felt so hot so sweaty and out of breath like I'd ran a marathon. after a little while my mind cleared and I could breathe properly again, I couldn't help but giggle looking at my naked body sat on his lap in our bed, sweat and other sexual juices coating us both his seed slowly leaking out of me around his shaft his grip softened to simply stroking my ass now as he was still struggling for breath but couldn't help his giggles to at the sight of us both

"sorry... kinda... uhh lost it for a while there"

"Yeah me too," I giggled

"I uhhh I really needed that."

"you can tell. was I... okay?"

"You were fantastic my queen" he smiled pulling me into a soft kiss "How... did I do?"

"spectacular my king"

"Good. we should properly get to bed. it's late"

"Yeah we should" I nodded I moved back and he pulled out so I laid in the bed we cleaned up a little of the various mess we had made

"Whoa. I have never made that much in my life"

"Ohh with who?"

"what?"

"what are you comparing it to?"

"Ohh me on my own. this is like three on my owns. which is converting because most of it was inside you"

"guess you really needed that then"

"I did. my lovely queen took ever such good care of me" He smirked giving me a kiss and tucking the covers around us both "cuddle?"

"cuddle" I smiled nuzzling into his chest

"Okay, goodnight darling."

"Goodnight thomas, I love you"

"Love you too my little queen"

I smiled as I finished up fixing my dress for the day today, making sure everything was as it was supposed to be.

"My Queen?" I heard Thomas speak up from his own corner of the room where he was dressing

"Yes?"

"How does... how does one be... kingly?"

"what?" I giggled

"How on earth do I actually act like a king?"

"Well" I smiled turning to fix my hair "That depends on the sort of king you want to be"

"I have no idea, what sort of king should I be?"

"I think no matter what you'll be a good king," I smiled giving him a cuddle

"You think so?" He asks

"I'm sure of it"

"Well, I have a very good queen to keep me on track"

"Ummm You do" I giggled giving him a kiss "I shall keep track of you"

"I'm sure you will my queen" he smiled "You are the most perfect queen this world could ever ask for, I'm sure you will mould me into a very good king"

"I know you'll be a very good king just maybe need a little help, moving from dark imposing lord of the south to King."

"Come on My queen, we have work to do"

[carol-effing-danvers]

Chapter 2: Orange and Chocolate

Her imagined escort is much more handsome and eccentric than she would’ve thought herself capable of creating. You should call me Eddie, dear Chrissy. After all, we shall be great friends, you and I. And only the White Queen still calls me Edward.  

Even in a dream, there is something so scandalous about letting him lead her around - Eddie doesn’t wear gloves, just laces his naked fingers through her own, and the sensation of their bare hands pressed together so intimately leaves Chrissy’s cheeks burning.

The thought completely disappears when, with another extravagant flourish, they disappear and when they have re-appeared, Eddie shows her an empty table beneath the green awning of trees, and then simply snaps his fingers. Chrissy gapes, the wooden suddenly groaning beneath the weight of a full luncheon set upon the newly appeared linen cloth. "How-how did you do that?"

He smiles so widely at her that his dark eyes seem to disappear, almost childlike with pride at her amazement. "I've gotten much better at it, haven't I?" he asks, pleased. He bows to her once more, before holding out a chair for her. "Edward Munson Hatter, milady, Master of the Spells of Seeming, at your service."

"Spells of Seeming?" she repeats, unable to hold in her own fascination, even if it was all nonsense she created herself.

“Illusion. It is the art of making something what it’s not. Usually, I use it to make things appear or disappear.” Eddie replies, flicking his hands and producing a beautiful red cloth napkin scalloped with tiny hearts. He allows another smile at her soft exclamation of delight and tucks it into her lap. "Like so."

Chrissy decides that this is, without question, the very best dream that she’s ever had. If she were a more conceited young lady, she might even have congratulated herself on it. As it is, she can hardly believe that she's capable of thinking up such wondrously beautiful things. The gardens surrounding them are unlike anything Chrissy has ever seen - little bluebells that actually seem to chime gently in the soft breeze, snapdragons that flare their wings dangerously and breathe tongues of fire whenever a rocking-horse-fly gets too close.

Her host is the oddest, strangest creature she has ever met - half mad but so handsome and warm, and he smiles at her so kindly, like an old friend who is glad to have her visit. And he feeds her.

Good lord - Chrissy knows this must be the product of her own greedy, starved brain, but before today she couldn’t have said for certain that she was aware these many kinds of foods even existed. Each of them are only one or two mouthfuls, but god, what mouthfuls they were!

Miniature honey and lavender scones with thick layers of cream and blackberry jam in their centers. A little crystal bowl filled with pale green shaved ice that tastes of melon. Tiny triangles of swirled rye bread covered in roast beef sliced thinner than paper and butter filled with savory herbs that actually makes tears spring to her eyes as her first bite seems to melt on her tongue. A rich chocolate fairy cake, covered in fluffy white frosting that tastes of coconut and a cluster of fresh sweet raspberries. And all of it is accompanied by a malty black tea that tastes warmily, deliciously, of chocolate and orange.

“I don’t care that I’ve made you up,” Chrissy informs the dear madman with a contented sigh, using her red napkin to dab the moisture that had formed in the corners of her eyes from the pleasure of tasting this magnificent feast before wiping her mouth. "I would marry you after that."

The irony of asking an imaginary stranger to marry her immediately after fleeing from Jason Carver’s proposal does not occur to her at the moment.

Eddie chuckles. "The other courts would pity you, Mrs Hatter," he teases gently. "Do you not want a husband who could offer more than a fine table?"

Some impulse, she doesn't know what, encourages Chrissy to tease him back. She plants her arm beside her plate, rests her chin on her fingers and smiles at him before she says: "A fine table, an excellent view, and a handsome smile. What else could be desired in a husband?"

For a moment, he looks genuinely taken aback, and Chrissy worries that she has offended him, before that same smile, apparently indefatigable, returns once more. “Ah, flattery shall get you everywhere with me, duchess,” he confesses, with a finger to his lips as though he’s told her a secret and Chrissy cannot help but smile back, even if he does address her by the incorrect title. “But alas - my loyalty belongs first to Her Majesty. Do tell me what other pleasures I can offer you in the meantime!"

Chrissy pretends to consider this very seriously but her eyes are consistently drifting over to the vibrantly colored gardens around them. “Perhaps…a tour?” She looks down at herself and shivers slightly, resisting the urge to cover her chest as the breeze plucks her skin with pinpricks of a chill. “And a warmer dress?”

“Oh, certainly!” he agrees happily, with a theatrical clap of his hands. Actually, most things about him seem to be very dramatic and theatrical and Chrissy isn’t quite sure what that says about her. After all, she’s the one who invented him, isn’t she? “That’s easily done, my dear Chrissy!”

The dull silver rings on his hands gleam as Eddie gently taps her on the nose, and Chrissy gasps softly, looking down at her arms and lap in amazement. Her half wet chemise is immediately replaced by a long gown of a strange design she’s never seen before.

The long fitted sleeves come down in a diamond shape over the backs of her hands and the garment seems to have two layers to it - an underlayer of a thicker gold cloth that has a subtle sparkle to its sheen and a lighter, sheer black fabric with a darting arrow design going up and down her body. Long and loose, it trails down past her feet, which suddenly feel warmer and drier than they had a moment ago and Chrissy can’t resist pulling up the hem to see - she is wearing new shoes and stockings as well! Golden and heavy silk slippers very similar to her pale blue ones, with a pattern that she at first thinks must be damask and then realizes are actually large heart shapes in different shades of gold. Her stockings are black and transparent, more like the over-layer of her dress, and kept up with red silk ribbons in the middle of her thigh. A single matching red silk heart decorates them right over her knees.

Chrissy still blushes hotly - it seems to be a proper dress, and theoretically, there is nothing unseemly about it… she even has two layers to her new dress, after all. But there was a looseness around…well, around the neckline that leaves her feeling a bit…exposed, and there was no denying that Eddie had been the one to dress her, even if by magic, and the sheerness of her stockings combined with the instant knowledge that she is no longer wearing even a single undergarment is so indecent that Chrissy feels like her blush might leave her melting into the ground.

It doesn’t matter, she reminds herself severely. None of this matters, because all of this is a dream!

“Oh, I beg your pardon, my dear,” Eddie says, looking a touch embarrassed. “You’re a bit smaller than I thought you’d be…”

Chrissy looks down at her lap. It’s the height of fashion to be thin and pale and somewhat sickly, but when he says that, she still feels like a disappointment. “I’m sorry…” she says faintly, without knowing what exactly she’s apologizing for. “I…”

“A simple fix,” he assures her brightly, going round the back of her chair. “Let me just re-tie your bow, shall I?”

Bow?

Unbeknownst to her, two thick red silk ribbons matching the ones in her stockings hang at either side of the back panels of her dress, just beneath the bust of her gown which, when tied into a bow, serve as a way to tighten or loosen it based on the whim of the wearer.

It certainly makes her feel a little less…exposed to have Eddie tie the bow back more tightly, gathering up some of the fabric of the gown until it becomes more closely fitted in the top but it still flows easily down to her feet.

“Much better!” he says happily, “My handiwork looks excellent on you, if I do say so myself.”

She ran her hands down the garment. Still no gloves, either. Even as unfamiliar as it is to her, it’s beautiful and she can tell that it’s well made and fine, probably quite expensive. “You made this?”

“Oh yes, your- for Her Majesty, the queen,” he says, with a smile that seems rather sad.

“I-I’ve borrowed something from a queen?” she asks, horrified. “Eddie-”

“She won’t be asking for it back, duchess,” he assures her gently. “Her Majesty, my most gracious Queen of Hearts, has been gone for nearly a decade. You do me a great honor by wearing it so well.”

Well, what can she really say to that?

The tour for the garden is even more splendid than Chrissy ever anticipated. “My lady queen created all of this herself,” Eddie tells her proudly, as they stand in front of a rainbow-colored water that drops down into a lazy stream - a stream that murmurs a lively ‘hullo!’ when they pass by. There are enormous hedges of roses surrounding what appear to be the edges of the garden, in every shade of white from stark frost-white and cream to shades of ivory that are very nearly yellow or pink. She stares, open mouthed, at a group of children who appear to be playing croquet using brilliantly colored birds with long legs as the mallet and matching colored hedgehogs for the ball. “From the babbling brook to the bread-and-butterflies, this place was her creation alone.”

“By…Spells of Seeming?” she ventures, still attempting to wrap her mind around the things she’s seeing.

“No, it’s not quite the same,” Eddie tells her, with an indulgent smile. “Before she created it, none of these things existed. This is the Magic of Manifestation rather than Spells of Seeming. There was no one in all of Wonderland who had more skill at Manifestation than my mistress did.”

“I can believe it,” Chrissy vows, looking at the way the slowly setting sun glowed across the rosebush hedges all around them. “...I’m sorry. You must miss her.”

“I do,” Eddie replies, with a heavy sigh. His eyes have fixed upon a statue standing at the entrance of a maze - also made from the rose bushes, but these are all in shades of red, from fiery flame to a dark spill of blood. It was a stylized heart made of black marble with eye-catching veins of white and gold throughout, standing all by itself. “...I miss her very much.”

***

He coaxes her into playing their own game of croquet, after reassuring her that the birds “-flamingos, darling-” are in no real distress. “-though I do recommend being polite. They can be right little bas- pests, if they get annoyed with you.”

When they can no longer see the hedgehog balls, even with their brilliant coloring, Eddie realizes that he should probably feed and water his poor little duchess again. He breaks open a bottle of sweet strawberry wine that he will owe Harrington coins for later. He is not quite as skilled with Manifestation as his lady queen, but Eddie can still manage to dream up something that Chrissy will enjoy.

He can tell - because she is so thin and wane and because watching her eat is still a study in human pleasure - that her mother has not fed and cared for her the way he’d hoped. He can’t help his trying to impress her and so his offerings are significantly more extravagant than if he were only feeding himself.

A soup of fresh green peas, swirled with chives and cream. Veal braised in a sauce of tomatoes. A mound of boiled potatoes, glistening with butter. Rolls of fluffy golden brown bread, served with little rosettes of more butter and crystal dishes of apple jelly. A spiced molasses cake with warm custard poured over the top…

She cries again after swallowing the first spoonful of the soup and Eddie silently conjures another napkin from the royal stores for her, his own throat too tight to speak. It is very good, he acknowledges to himself. But a good meal shouldn’t be making her cry.

A beautiful painting or something she reads that’s made her sad or missing a friend might make her cry but a decently cooked meal shouldn’t be so extraordinary that Chrissy is brought to tears by it.

It is well, he tells himself firmly. It wasn’t before but I will make it so. If it requires every bit of magic in my body to do it, I will make it so for her.

When she has finished all she can, Eddie claps his hands. “And now, darling,” he says, pulling his own chair away from the table. “What else should you like before bed?”

“A bath,” she pleads, flushing a little. “I know you got rid of the muddy things but that…”

She trails away.

“No, it’s not quite the same as really being clean,” he agrees with her gently, and then struggles to maintain something like a neutral expression as he recalls something from her childhood.

Chrissy has never had to bathe herself. In Overland, no lady of her social class ever would.

Of course not, Eddie! He can still hear in his ear, with her little girl’s laugh. It wouldn’t be proper. My lady’s maid, Emma, helps me for that.

That’s strange - I usually just jump in the creek!

Oh, you liar! You never, Eddie!

Oh my honor, I do.

“I am the only servant around to assist you, duchess,” he answers carefully, keeping any teasing note from his voice so that she will know he is entirely serious. If he calls for anyone from the White Queen’s court, they will demand things of her that this day has already shown him Chrissy is not yet ready to give. “...if you should like a bath, I will be the one to give it to you.”

To his own surprise, she doesn’t seem at all bothered by this. With a little laugh, she says “What kind of difference does that make?” she says, letting the dress he made swirl around her as she dances in a little circle. “...you won’t hurt me…” Maybe she remembers-! She laughs and the red bow flashes at him teasingly as she whirls, round and around. “...I made you up! This is all in my imagination, so nothing is going to hurt me!”

Oh, dear - apart from the fact that he ought to warn Chrissy a great many things in her imagination can hurt her - of course, of course, she doesn’t find the idea of letting Eddie attend to her as though he is a lady-in-waiting disturbing. She still believes that he isn’t real. Why should it matter if he sees her unclothed? To her, Eddie is imaginary. Well, it’s good to know that she isn’t frightened of him in the least.

He still hesitates. There are a great many written laws that he’s already breaking - why not break some unwritten laws while they’re at it? Anyway, if he is the one who attends to her, she won’t be leaving his sight and that makes him feel a little better about where they’ll have to spend the night: the Palace of Hearts.

It isn’t exactly safe there and if Eddie didn’t have the absolutely best Vanishing spell in the land, he isn’t sure that he would dare. As it is, if they had to enter on foot or by horse or carriage, you couldn’t possibly pay him enough to get there if you handed over all of the money in the three realms, but Eddie had been the Queen’s master wizard, so the wards would still allow him to simply Reappear there. Those same wards won’t stop Vecna if he tries to enter it, of course - more specifically, they wouldn’t stop the Jabberwock - but as far as Eddie knows, they’re still outside the Palace Rouge, terrifying the Red Queen and her army. There’s nothing left in the Palace of Hearts for him to want there.

His paranoia and uncertainty are almost worth it when Chrissy sees the Queen’s bedchambers, anyway - Eddie has kept it up for her all these years, not quite able to let it fall to ruin, even as the land around them became a dead, miserable waste and even the palace itself began to crumble into rubble. Though indoors, there are latticed white frames all around Her Majesty’s bed, all overrunning the wooden trellises with red, red roses.

And, of course, the bathing chamber - Eddie has no frame of reference for her bathing quarters in Overland, but these obviously had to be fit for a queen. And they are, even if he can’t take any of the credit for it. The cut of the scarlet tiles made them look like rubies when the candlelight hit them just right, sparkling with a brightness and depth that was almost supernatural, leading all the way up to the massive tiled tub.

You used to dress her up when she was ten. All of the silly things to get her ready, he tells himself firmly, snapping his fingers to summon the oils and soaps still abandoned inside the royal stores. Everything from fitting her for the little beribboned dresses to braiding her strawberry blond hair - this isn’t that different. Very simple! And you promised. You promised to take care of her, Eddie Munson.

Except, Eddie realizes, loosening the bow at the back of her dress again, swallowing heavily as he watches it slide down to the floor. Oh shit. Except that Chrissy is definitely not ten.

Fucking Frabjous. He’s going to end this by getting his bloody head chopped off, he just knows it.

***

The water is white and opaque, silky against her skin. Rose petals float upon the surface. Chrissy has never seen a bath like it - she suspects that he actually put milk in it and it steams gently around her. She curls her fingers around the little china cup of hot chocolate, eyes half closed and sleepy.

In her ear, Eddie’s voice murmurs “How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail? And pour the waters of the Nile over every golden scale.” Her hair is rinsed with the water, his fingers sliding across her scalp, and it makes Chrissy’s eyelids droop heavier. She feels the unusual rings he wears against her skin as he picks up her hand, filing carefully at her nails. “How cheerfully he seems to grin…how neatly spreads his claws…and welcomes little fishies in, with gently…smiling…jaws…”

She laughs and lets her head drop against his shoulder. Eddie doesn’t mind that she’s getting him wet any more than he minds her state of dress and he presses a kiss to her head. She is warm and safe and full. This is a lovely dream, maybe the loveliest she's ever had.

Chrissy sort of hopes that she never wakes up again.

#hellcheer alice #hellcheer #eddissy #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham

[the-firebird69]

This is the castle of my brother which is Disney world

Ho ho wenzel is our Castle not just her castle even though she did all of the or most of the finishes and detailed work and we shared the work of the paintings

Arthur

It's been a long time and I heard you say that he says it strangely okay and he knows my name

Guinevere

We fell in love a long time ago and not too long ago. They've got my mom on the radio. And I will tell you something tell me after saying they moved the castle and it's true and he moved Max Castle. So my husband asked Tommy F where his castle is and he asked him and he said where is it Kenny Wong and he gets it it's cold no it's an insult and so he's wondering what he means

Hera

Zues

What is your freaking Castle Tommy F so we can move it

Mac daddy you moved everybody else's out of the towns and cities and I know that the castles in my fortresses I want to hear it too they're really robots and they walked up there I don't think so he studied them x-rated there's no moving parts and they can't move and you're an idiot

Mac daddy

Well they can be found at the bottom of the ocean now that's a movie down there and I didn't like it I didn't make any more no I did and I had to relocate down there so I moved yours to a higher place that's where you are now fighting up there over something oh yeah it's my stuff I'll have to tell you I have plenty of castles no is when you're missing it's in London keep saying it's yours he says it's not a castle it's an Abby not that one the one that Grandma was in that's when he's saying it's an Abby just know it's a castle it's mine it's not very big I had my family in it. Queen Elizabeth I was my family and she was killed early on I suppose she came back how many people liked her and didn't want to keep her around. I had a hard time with it. My wife and kids were buried there they were killed by somebody around here and it was a long time ago. And before I move the castles and they blame clones. I simply have to admit it's probably Mac Daddy and they found him trying to shoot our friend here and blaming other people. What you doing Mike Brenda is very tiring you're blaming people for stuff that you're doing and there are places and I can't stand you anymore you're just like this idiot Joel Watts what happens it catches up to you yeah I do it too but geez you screw around with everybody it's like a song it's a madman across the water it's been a madman since the beginning you made a mistake I wasn't just him though it's her too it wasn't your mom your brother and your sister I may ask what they did they made a regal decision until the world to go screw basically. I wasn't really there the father and mother know the exact words and I know there was an offer. I sort of see something you refused it and all negotiations were off and you want to play me she kept me around then said you're not supposed to be doing that I sort of get it and I see the game and he sees it a lot of people do it's very insipid

Tommy f

Vineyard relationship Palace be in Iraq Mac

Zues Hera

Yeah probably as yours should be in still Massachusetts and hers Antarctica and he says there's something below stow, and it's big like Hera said.

Zues

It's just like him okay that's my house and I decided when we have a house together we both design it so he's using the spy stuff and he grew up with it and I'm laughing because he wants to be nice to me and he's being nice but he says I'm being nicer and you beat me to and I beat him to it that's what it is and yeah there might be a castle somewhere

Hera

It's not below the Earth it's definitely not in stow. It's somewhere in that area of Germany is like she said

Thor Freya

is nice warm and cozy her place is

Olympus

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Watched my favorite movie from when I was a kid and realized that one of the characters from it is still one of my faves of all time and I’m kinda in love with her

#the movie is ronia the robber’s daughter #from 1984 not that new anime series that came a few years ago #idk if that movie was translated into other languages or if it is only Swedish #the book is translated into multiple languages though so maybe someone out there has read it #if that someone sees this it was ronia’s mother lovis #I was so in love with her #still am tbh #gal was the only woman in that fortress with her husband and his twelve robbers and she fucking ruled #she didn’t take anyone’s shit that was her fortress and they were just living in it #and these thirteen big men were afraid of her because she kicked their asses on the daily when they got too unruly #but she also sings and dances with them and even though she doesn’t plunder she’s just as much a robber as the rest of them #her husband is a madman but she’s a queen #and when I say he’s mad I mean it #he screams 99% of his lines and has no chill whatsoever #my man can’t handle emotions very well but he has and awesome wife #at least I think she’s his wife it’s not really clear if they’re married #or if they’re just together #I don’t know how lovis ended up in a fortress with thirteen robbers either but she’s there and she’s the boss #in the movie she has bushy black hair and it’s not even a little book accurate but I just fucking love if #yeah I’m having so many feels about a children’s move so what? #imma go back to being an asoiaf/got blog now sorry for the detour #no im not sorry if you ever have the chance to watch the 1984 live action ronia the robber’s daughter plz watch it

[deady-nightshade]

Cinderella AU (Jesse Cromeans x F!Reader)💀

Description: It had been a few years since Queen Cromeans’ suicide, and the kingdom is yearning for a new queen. King Cromeans, the mysterious masked man on the throne is determined to remain unwed, but while moving through the shadows of the market place, a peasant woman bumps into him — you. The curiosity of a madman is sparked and plots are intricately constructed, bringing you closer to the bloodthirsty king who wears a chrome skull mask. 

Disclaimer/Warnings: NSFW, virgin reader, mentions of suicide, loss of child/wife, affairs, prostitutes, murder, stalking, revenge/vengeance, morally grey reader (not a Mary Sue by any means), mentions of young childhood love, abusive family (emotional, physical and verbal), scars, twisted fairytale, age-gap, mute Jesse (sign language in Italics), fairies and magic. 

Word Count: 9.6K 

**Reader is named Cinderella in this story, and you will have slightly long hair. Other than that, the looks will not be specified**

**The name of the wicked stepmother is named Rodmilla. The eldest ugly stepsister is named Clorinda. The youngest ugly stepsister is named Tisbe. I picked these names from the different tellings of Cinderella**

**Lightly proofread** **Comments are appreciated** 😊

Once upon a time, in a far away kingdom, there was a young, orphan boy. He had never known his family and grew up on the streets, doing whatever he needed to get by to survive. One night, when he was ten, there was a storm, one that caused the trees surrounding the kingdom to become uprooted and crops to be devastated. Your father had taken shelter at a farm, but he was caught by the farmer, a large, burly man who had issues controlling his liquor and a wicked temper. Little did your father know, a young girl, two years younger than him, with a generous heart had taken pity on him. She was the farmer’s only child, therefore his most prized possession. 

When the farmer left, leaving your father with a bruised eye and bloody nose, the young girl escaped from the house and came to his aid. That night, while the storm blew through the kingdom, the girl dragged him into the barn and took care of him. She then gave him some food and a blanket before making her way back into the house. That was the night your father fell in love. 

Years passed, but your father never forgot your mother’s kindness and budding beauty. The world became crueler and your father was forced to make difficult choices. One of those choices ended up costing a man his life, but instead of being imprisoned, he was revered as a local hero. One that was rewarded generously and went on to make a name for himself. Within five years, the destitute man had built himself an empire that he carved from diamond and rubies. 

When he was twenty, he returned to the farm and proposed to your mother. The rest was history. Their marriage was founded on love, and a year later, you had been born. More years had passed, and when their daughter turned five, tragedy struck. Her mother had grown sick and within the span of a week, she had died, leaving behind a mourning husband and daughter. 

Your father, knowing that you needed a mother, began to search throughout the kingdom. He had been met with various prospects, but none of them were right; they were young and immature, they were not mother material. When things appeared dim, a young girl ran out from the streets, almost getting run over by the horse that your father rode upon. It was that fateful incident that led to your father’s remarriage. 

Your newest sisters were mean; constantly pulling on your hair, grabbing and twisting your arms, and they would hide your dolls. Your stepmother, Rodmilla was stern with you, but lenient with her own children, causing a rift between the four of you. When your father was present, the cruel natures of stepmother and stepsisters became dormant, and you would beg your father not to leave. 

‘Please don’t leave Papa,’ you cried, grabbing a hold of his hand. 

‘I must, my child. There are issues at the mine that I must address.’ He had replied. He ruffled your hair and caressed your cheek. ‘I will be back before you know it.’

He kissed his wife, then kissed Clorinda’s and Tisbe’s cheeks, before turning  to you. His lips were soft against your forehead and he rubbed the tip of his nose against yours. ‘Take care of them when I am gone, petal. And don’t worry, I will be back soon.’ 

A few days later, there was a knock upon the door and you had been ordered to answer it. Standing in front of you had been a constable and a few miners. Your father had indeed returned, but he had returned in a casket. 

The marketplace was packed and the voices of every vendor began to bleed together. Rodmilla walked in front of you with Clorinda and Tisbe eagerly trotting behind her. Your hands were filled with an array of bags, all of them containing expensive shoes, dresses and imported perfumes. 

The women in front of you came to a sudden halt and you nearly stepped on them. Tisbe, the youngest daughter of Rodmilla, turned around and sneered. “Watch where you’re going, Cinderella!” 

Her icy blue eyes were hard, like the ice that formed over the pond in winter, and you wanted nothing more than to pluck the eyes out and make her eat them. You gave her a sickeningly sweet smile. “So sorry.” 

You weren’t sorry, and they all knew that, but they couldn’t do anything to you out in public, lest they tarnish their sparking reputation. Clorinda peered over her silk fan and rolled her eyes. They were a few shades darker than her sister’s. 

“Enough chatter, girls.” Rodmilla said, hitting her diamond encrusted cane down. “We still have stores to visit.” She pointed her hazel eyes at you and tilted her chin upwards. “Drop the bags off at the carriage and go to the baker; pick up some bread and make sure to buy the cakes that my darlings like. If any of those cakes are missing, you will not have supper for the next three days.” 

Your stepmother and sisters left you, and you watched as their obnoxious figures disappeared within the swell of the crowd. Finally, you were free (so to speak). Your wooden clogs tapped against the cobblestone sidewalk and you hummed to yourself a tune that had once been a lullaby that your mother sang to you. The lyrics had been long forgotten, but the melody itself remained. 

The carriage quickly came into sight and the driver, a short, rather plump man, named Gregory, opened the silver glided door. “Do you know how much longer they will be, miss?” he signed. 

You carefully sat the packages and parasols down. You spun back around and shook your head. “Afraid not, Gregory.” 

The driver rubbed his greying beard, then took a drag from his pipe. Your stomach growled and you subconsciously placed your hand on your abdomen. The older man noticed your sullen look and he began rummaging through his pockets. He removed a golden coin and held it out to you.  

“I can't take this.” You said, moving your fingers quickly. 

Gregory blew out the smoke and bit down his pipe. “If you don’t take it and get yourself you want, then I’ll buy you stewed spinach and pickled eggs.”

He knew how you detested stewed spinach and pickled eggs, and you knew that he hobble down the street and purchase it for you. With a small smile, you took the coin. 

“Thank you, Gregory.” 

The elder man merely grumbled and he shooed you away. But before you left, you snatched the wooden basket from the carriage and pressed a kiss on the man’s leathery cheek. 

The walk to the bakery was short, and when you entered the shop, the scent of freshly baked bread greeted you. The baker greeted you and while he fetched the items that you needed, you decided to wander the shop. Little cakes were on display and one in particular caught your attention. It was round in appearance and relatively plain compared to the others, but it had the sweetest smell: honey and almond. 

You could vaguely remember you and your mother sharing this cake on a warm summer day, and before you knew it, you had picked up the cake and made your way to the counter. 

The baker handed you back the basket and raised a brow when he saw the single cake in your hand. “Would you like me to add that to your tab?”

“No, I will pay for it.” You handed him the coin and the baker pocketed it. 

“Allow me to wrap that for you, miss.”

With basket in hand, and cake tucked safely in your apron pocket, you made your way out of the shop. A few children ran past you and watched fondnly as they played with one another. They were completely unaware of the cruelties that the world offered, you hoped that they would remain that way: innocent and jovial. 

You were so lost in thought that you were ignorant to the black figure emerging from the shadowed alleyway. You only noticed them when you rudely walked into them. Your balance was thrown off and you began to sway. Something warm and hard wrapped around your waist, effectively steadying you, and the baked goods within your basket became jostled. 

Your face was centimeters away from a broad chest that was decorated in rich, black fabric. Something dark, almost musky tickled your nose; it was a strong scent, but it was pleasant. 

“Pardon me,” you said, stepping back, your eyes trailing up the man’s impressive height. “I wasn’t paying —” the words died on the tip of your tongue and your eyes widened when you saw the man’s face. 

The entire right side was covered in thick, puckered scars that reminded you of the twisted nature of bark on tree. In place of his nose were two, dark holes and his lips looked like they had been ripped off. The flesh of his right lip looked to have fused prematurely with that of his right cheek, giving him what looked like a permeant snarl. There was no hair on his head and his face lacked eyebrows. There were also a few scars on the left side of his face, but they seemed more shallow compared to the ones on the right side. And a black eyepatch hid his right eye and his left eye, which was a dark, earthy brown, was locked on your face. 

Even though this man’s face was scarred and rather skeletal like in appearance, you weren’t afraid of him. Instead, you were concerned for him. What had caused his face to become like this? You had heard of people being cursed by evil fairies and scorned witched, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this man had been unfortunate enough to have been affected by such cruel magic. Of course, not everything bad that happened to people was the result of magic, it could have been something natural, like, fire perhaps. 

You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but your right hand rose through the air and your palm gently rested on the man’s left cheek. The tips of your fingers lightly touched the raised scars. The skin that was not scarred was smooth, and although the scars looked bad, they felt surprisingly soft. He must have taken great care of them. 

The grip the man had on your waist tightened and you gulped when his left hand wrapped around your wrist. He removed your hand from your face and he narrowed his eye as if to frown. 

“Who —”

“Cinderella!” 

You immediately straightened up and furrowed your brow. With ease, you slipped your wrist from his semi-hard grasp and you stepped away from him once more, causing the hand around your waist to fall. 

“Cinderella!” your stepmother screamed again, this time louder, something you didn't think was possible. 

Without another word, you ran from the scarred man and disappeared within the crowd. 

That night, Jesse laid in bed, replaying the events of the marketplace, over and over.  He couldn’t get your face out of his head, no matter how hard he tried, and he could still feel the phantom touch of your hand stroking his scars. Cooled blood clung to his pale skin and the king slowly climbed out the bed, not caring of the mess he had made. 

He paid no attention to the corpse that laid in his bed, still annoyed that the harlot had screamed upon unmasking him. She was supposed to have pleasured him, and in a way she did, especially with the way her screams turned to gurgles upon slitting her throat, but he had wanted to receive pleasure by fucking her into the bed. Oh, well, it was too late now. 

The king wrapped a bloodied sheet around his waist and pulled on the rope that hung from the ceiling. Within seconds, Spann and Preston had entered his chambers. Spann eyed the body in the bed and smirked to herself, whereas Preston looked unimpressed. 

‘Clean this up and draw me a bath.’ He ordered. 

They nodded and the king followed the late queen’s lady in waiting into the bathroom. The bathtub was carved into the floor and more maids entered the room. They went about their job, warming the water in the tub and pouring oils into it. 

Spann handed Jesse a lit cigar and the king took a drag. He walked over to window and looked out at the sleeping kingdom. He couldn’t help but wonder where that woman lived, where Cinderella lived, and he bit down on the filter in frustration. 

The soft clamoring of the maids faded and the blanket around his waist was removed, leaving him naked. Spann placed kisses along his muscled back and the king slowly turned around. The eager woman was already on her knees, staring up at him in adoration. 

“Allow me to please you, My King.” 

She leaned forward, mouth open, but before she could take his cock in her mouth, the king stopped her. Had it have been a different night, he would have taken her up on her offer, but his mind was caught in an endless loop between Cinderella’s kindness in the marketplace, and the stark contrast of fear that the prostitute had shown him not even an hour ago. The only reason Spann liked him was because he was king.  

‘I want you and Preston to prepare for a ball.’ The king signed, ignoring the curious face on the woman’s face.

“Whatever for, My King?”

‘The kingdom needs a new Queen, and I believe it is time to start looking.’

Spann’s face soured and she slowly stood up. She knew better than to argue, but the king could tell she disapproved on the sudden decision. Jesse stepped forward and roughly grabbed her face. 

‘If you interfere with my plans, I will not hesitate to kill you.’ He warned. 

The ex-lady in waiting nodded and turned around. “Preston and I will get started on it right away.”

The following morning, hundreds of guards were sent throughout the city, with satchels of invitations. They had been given clear instructions; give them to every young and eligible maiden that they see, regardless of their social class, and they knew better than to disobey the king’s orders. 

Rain pattered against the windows and Tisbe’s fingers clicked and clacked against the polished keys of the piano. You winced when she played the wrong note and Rodmilla slammed her tea cup down.

“Haven’t you been practicing?” she yelled.

The frustrated blonde looked up from the piano and pounded down on the keys. “It’s not my fault this piano is out of tune! Perhaps if Cinderella did her job, then my playing would put a nightingale to shame.”

Despite the numerous pins your mouth, you huffed. It wasn't your fault that Tisbe didn’t have a musical bone in her body. You blame poor breeding for her lack skills.  

Clorinda snorted and pointed the fat end of the mirror at her younger sister. “Maybe it’s time to give up on Tisbe and turn all your attention to me, Mother?” Her painted lips pulled back into a sneer and she glanced back into the mirror. “After all, I was the one gifted with beauty, not her.”

Before Rodmilla could say anything, Tisbe leapt from the piano bench and lunged at Clorinda. You, having sensed what was going to happen, avoided the tackle and quickly stood up. Fabric flew through the air and Rodmilla broke up the fight by hitting her daughters on head with her cane.

“Stop this incessant squabbling at once!” she cried, tossing Clorinda to one side of the room and Tisbe to the other.

While your stepmother berated your stepsisters, you removed the pins from your mouth and collected your sewing supplies. A knock sounded at the door and everyone grew quiet.

“See who’s at the door, Cinderella.” Your stepmother ordered.

You ignored her at first, but then she struck you in the back with her cane. The wind was knocked out of your lungs and tears stung your eyes. Your back was covered in scars from the multiple lashings that she and her daughters had given you throughout the years. She knew that your back was sensitive and she loved to cause you more pain.

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” Rodmilla yelled, causing your stepsisters to laugh.

You were unable to speak, so you merely nodded your head. Your bare feet tapped against the floor as you ran to the door, and you quickly wiped your tears away. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door.

Standing before you was a young royal guard whose babyface was sprinkled with rainwater. A single horse grazed on the grass of the front lawn, indifferent to Mother Nature’s shower.

“Is the Lady of the house present?” he asked.

“She is.” You replied. “Why don’t you come on in?”

The guard gave you a kind smile and he followed you into the house. Tisbe had gone back to playing the piano and you subtly glanced at the palace guard. He was not a fan of her playing.

As soon as you walked into the parlor, Tisbe stopped playing and your stepmother put on her mask. “Oh, my, what is a guard of the palace during at our house?” she asked.

The guard bowed to your stepmother and removed his rain soaked hat. “I have come to invite you to a Royal Ball.”

Tisbe clapped her hands and Clorinda rushed towards the young man. “Whenis the ball?” she demanded.

“Oh, Mother,” Tisbe sighed, “whatever shall we wear?”

Rodmilla banged her cane onto the floor, silencing her daughters, and she slowly rose from her seat. “Would you like a cup of tea, sir? We wouldn’t want you to return to the palace sick now, would we?”

“Thank you, my lady.”

“Cinderella,” Rodmilla turned her eyes to you, “get our guest a cup of tea.”

“Of course.”

You made your way into the kitchen and started the fire. While the flame sputtered to life, you grabbed the kettle and began pumping the water. After a minuet, the water finally came from the well and flowed freely. While the kettle filled, you grabbed some sugar and milk, placing it on a serving tray.

A soft chime caught your attention and you stopped what you were doing. There were no bells in the kitchen, nor were there any hanging from the windowsill. Not thinking much of it, you pumped the spout once more, then. you removed the kettle and placed it on the hook directly above the flame.

While you waited for the water to boil, you walked towards the window and glanced outside. The clouds were grey but you could see a swell of white clouds and blue skies on the horizon.

Suddenly, you heard another chime, but this time it sounded closer. The flowers in the window box moved and you gasped when you saw a fairy taking shelter from the rain.

“Oh, you poor thing.”

You undid the latch and pushed the window open. The fairy's head shot up and it began talking to you. It sounded like bells swaying in the summer breeze. Of course, you couldn’t understand her, but you had a feeling she was telling you to back off, seeing how fairies didn't like humans.

“It’s all right, I won’t hurt you.”

Your words didn’t soothe the fairy and it bared its sharp teeth at you. “Now stop that or I won’t help you,” you threatened.

Before the fairy could argue more, you carefully scooped her up and brought her inside. She began biting your hand, piercing the thick skin, and you sighed. Why couldn’t things be easy for you just once in your life?

You sat the fairy down on the table and began drying her delicate wings with your handkerchief, mindful not to accidentally tear them. It was common knowledge that fairies couldn’t fly with wet wings, making them especially vulnerable when it rained.

You finished in no time and removed a sugar cube form the saucer. “Here, it isn’t much, but it should give you some energy.”

The fairy looked at you dubiously, then plucked the sugar cube from your hands. She angrily chomped down on it and you chuckled at her distrusting nature.

The kettle whistled, starting both you and the fairy. You removed it from the hook and went back to work. A few minuets later, you removed the tea leaves from the cup and grabbed the tray, balancing it on your forearm. You made it half way to the door when you stopped.

“Little fairy,” you said,  catching your kitchen guest’s attention. “The rain should be stopping soon, and when it does, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave; my stepfamily doesn’t like fairies and if they were to see you, they’ll try to hurt you.”

The fairy responded with a single chime and you smiled to yourself. If only you could grow a pair of wings and fly away. 

After serving the guard his tea, you sat down on the window seat and began rummaging through the book. You tried to ignore the conversation regarding the ball, seeing how you wouldn’t be attention. No sooner had you flipped a page did your attention become piqued. 

“The king is looking for a new queen.” The guard said. 

You lowered the book and pushed the hair from your face. It had been a few years since the late queen had taken her life, leaving her throne empty along  with the royal nursery. News of her suicide left the kingdom shaken, and you expected good handful to have even mourned her. But seeing how the royal family was so private, the queen’s death didn’t really upset you. What did upset you though was the fact that the king’s child was cruelly taken from him, and by his queen no less. 

Clorinda’s eyes lit up and glee and you were tempted to throw your book at her inflated head. The only she was happy because she wanted the crown. She could care less about running a kingdom, all she wanted was the riches that came with sitting atop the throne. 

Her sudden interest disgusted you; within the confines of your house, you knew that she was disgusted, and slightly terrified of the king. There were many rumors surrounding the king, most of them being rather grim, and you knew for a fact that she believed in all of them, much like Tisbe and Rodmilla; they believed that king was responsible for the mysterious disappearances of the kingdom’s prostitutes, and maybe he was, but who were you to judge? 

While your hands were clean of blood, you had often thought about killing your stepmother and stepsisters in their sleep. But seeing how you wouldn’t get away with you, those thoughts became nothing more than sweet daydreams. 

There were other rumors, of course, and the one that made you laugh the hardest was the one pertaining to what the king did with the bodies of the prostitutes (if he did indeed kill them). Word of mouth was that kept the bodies and decorated the inside of his palace with them. Now that made you laugh for two reasons; one, dead things rot, and you couldn’t picture the king basking in that stench, and secondly, why would he decorate his palace with bodies when there much better options out there? Especially when price wasn’t an issue. 

Now, your favorite rumor pertaining the king had to pertain to the reason why he wore the infamous chrome skull mask. Many people believed he was cursed, and you found some backing behind that rumor seeing how no one has ever seen his face. And seeing how you were slightly sadistic, you loved to scare your stepsisters; you told them that the reason he wears his mask is because underneath it, he's a rotting corpse, and that he collected the dead bodies of the prostitutes to create his own dead harem. That joke of yours ended up costing you ten lashings whip. 

You were pulled by your thoughts when the palace guard gently tapped you on the shoulder. “Are you married, miss?” he asked you.

His question caught you off guard and you shook your head. “No, I’m single.” 

The guard smiled and reached into his jacket. He removed a white envelope and held it out to you. You took it and flipped it over. A red thing of wax was keeping it sealed and in the center of the red was a chrome painted skull. 

The guard then turned on his heel and spoke to Rodmilla. “I shall inform the organizers that the four of you will be in attendance. Until then.” 

Two weeks later, and the ball was quickly approaching. Ever since getting the invitations, your family had been working you to the bone; you had cleaned every inch of the house twice, rebuilt the chicken coop, earning a few bruises in the process, fixed the hundreds of dresses that they had miraculously ruined, and you even dusted the chandelier. 

While Clorinda and Tisbe received new dresses, you were given nothing. Not that it surprised you, so you decided to go into the attic while they went shoe shopping. You searched through your mother’s old things and found a few dresses that time had not been kind to. After studying them, you had come to the conclusion that you wouldn't have the time to fix them. You were about to cut your losses when something white caught your eye: it was a  dress. You carefully took it in your hands and held it up. The dress was made of chiffon and it was simple design, but you could fix that. 

While your family slept, you sat beside the fire and fixed the ballgown to the best of your abilities. You salvaged the golden lace from one of your mother’s tattered dress, and you took the pearls off another. 

The night of the ball finally approached and after helping Tisbe and Clorinda get ready, they sent you away so that they could show their mother their final look. While they did that, you hurried to the attic and got dressed. The dress was heavy and it took you longer than you would have liked to admit to tie the corset yourself, but you had somehow managed. 

You spun around in delight but paused when you saw the scars that the back of the dress was unable to hide. An idea came to mind and with newfound joy, you continued to get ready. After spraying some perfume, you were ready, 

Your heels clicked against the stairs and you could hear your families conversation come to a halt when they saw you. Usually you weren’t one to boast, but you had worked tirelessly on your dress and you were genuinely proud of what you had been able to create in such a short amount of time. 

“Isn’t it wonderful?” you beamed, stopping in front of them only to give them a small twirl. 

The white of the dress was the perfect shade; it complimented your complexion beautifully, and expensive pearls decorated the neckline, only to delicately hand around your shoulders. The lace added a nice touch and it pulled everything together. Your makeup was delicate, highlighting your features and your smile was the largest it had been since your father had passed away. 

Your sisters exchanged a scheming look and they ran up to you. Their hands tore through your dress, ripping and tearing the material. 

“How hideous!” Tisbe screamed, pulling the pearls from your shoulders. 

“You ugly cockroach!” Clorinda added, tearing the golden lace. 

“Stop it!” you yelled trying to push them away. 

They didn't stop until you were dressed in nothing but rags. Pearls were strewn across the floor, fragments of lace barely clung to your dress anymore, and the makeup that you worked so hard on had been ruined by your tears. 

The door suddenly opened and Gregory popped his head in. His brown eyes widened when he saw the state you were in and he glared at your stepmother. Not wanting him to get in trouble, you walked over and shook your head. He gave you pleading look and in turn you gave him a ghost of a smile. 

“Tell Gregory that his to drop us off at the palace and that he will wait for us there.” Rodmilla instructed. 

You translated for the carriage driver and added that you were okay. He knew you weren’t, but there wasn’t anything the two of you could do, and you both knew it. Gregory shook his head and left the house, not even bothering to hold the door for your step family. They grabbed a hold of their dresses and marched outside. 

As soon as the door closed behind them, you ran into the garden crying. Just once, you wanted to go out and enjoy yourself. You wanted one night were you could be someone you weren’t. You wanted one night of freedom before being forced to live in the hell that had become your life. 

You were angry, you were hurt, and you decided then and there that you were going to kill them. Your feet carried you to the surrounding forests and with the aid of the moon, you began searching for deadly nightshade. All you needed to do was makes a tea with its black berries, and death would come from them. It was simple and clean. You would not have to scrub blood from your clothes, nor would you have to clean your hands. 

A familiar bell-like chime caught your ear and you stopped gathering the poisonous berries. It sounded like fairies. Deciding you had gathered enough berries for three grown adults, you began making your way back, only yo stop when a familiar fairy to greet you with a chime. It was the same fairy that you had helped when she had been caught in the rain. 

To your surprise, more fairies came out of hiding you the berries that you had collected fell from your cupped hands. You had never seen this many fairies before. 

“Give the human some space.” An unfamiliar voice said. It was light, airy even, and it was both famine and masculine. 

The fairies settled on the flowers that were gathered around you, and when you turned back around, you were surprised to find someone, or rather something standing there. It was a fairy, that much was certain, but it looked rather human, aside from its pale green skin, pointed ears and topaz colored eyes. Instead of wearing petals like most fairies wore, this one wore a short skirt made of leaves. Their arms were bare and  their chest was covered by a loose vest. You could see its large, iridescent wings drag on the forest floor behind them, and there was a part of you that wanted to touch them. 

“My daughter told me that you helped her.” They said, taking a step closer to you. 

“It was raining.” You replied.  

The fairy chucked. “So it was. Now tell me, dear, what are you doing out here at this time of night, wearing...” the fairy grabbed a piece of lace and frowned, “What are you wearing?” 

“A dress,” you whispered. 

“It’s a terrible looking dress,” they said. 

The fairies around you laughed, causing you to cry once more. Upon seeing your tears they stopped and told them what your family had done to you. When you finished, the fairy that you helped fly to their parent and whispered into their. 

“Is that what you want, Blossom?” the parent asked. The little fairy chimed. “Very well.” 

The tall fairy glanced at you and smiled, revealing their pointed teeth. “Let us begin.” 

The carriage came to a stop and you nervously glanced up at the castle. It was tall and imposing, causing a shiver to run down your spine. The door flew open and your driver, an unfortunate toad that had been enchanted into a man, stared expectantly at you. His skin was pale, almost grey in color, and thick warts covered his chin and cheeks.

You gathered the skirt of your dress and carefully climbed out. Your heels, which were made of red glass, clicked against the marble stone that composed of the walkway. You let go of the red fabric, which happened to have been made from spider silk (and it was surprisingly comfortable), pooled around you.

A palace guard walked over to you and you noticed the simple black mask he wore. He held out his arm and you nervously looped your gloved one around it. He walked you up the steps and you caught sight of your reflection in the black, polished marble.

The dress hugged your figure to perfection, and the red silk glittered beautifully against the enchanted candles. It looked like the silk had been dipped in a pool of crushed garnets and rubies. The neckline was cut deep, ending past your navel. Long sleeves covered your arms and you back, hiding the scars that you hated so, and delicate chains of gold were layered on your neck. And finally, a black mask hid the upper portion of your face. Red and gold paint decorated it, giving it a beautiful look. Your makeup was simple, yet highlighted your beautiful features, and your lips were painted red like the color of blood.

With every step you took, the music grew louder and before you knew it, you were had been led to the ballroom. The guard kissed the back of your gloved hand and stared out at the party beneath you. You spotted your sisters in the crowd concentrated near the throne, and you gulped when you spotted King Cromeans sitting on his throne. He was dressed in black and was resting his hidden face on his curled hand.

The music reached its crescendo and you decided that it was time to join the party, seeing how you only had a few hours before the fairies’ magic wore off,  and you were determined to get the most out of it.

After taking a deep breath, you began descending the steps, mindful not to trip. The conservations of the partygoers became nothing more than faint whispers, and when you glanced down you had discovered that all eyes were upon you. You were never one for attention and the sudden interest being shown to you made your stomach flip.

As soon as you reached the floor, men flocked to you, asking you to dance, but you dismissed them by saying later, when in reality you were already going to be gone. You slipped through the crowd and found a waiter. Instead of wearing black, they wore all white, including a white face mask. The anxiety you felt about wearing a mask to the ball lessened. You took a flute of champagne and began taking small sips, enjoying the way the bubbles tickled your throat.

You moved through the shadows, trying your best to avoid your step family and King Cromeans’ eyes. The orchestra began playing another song and you disappeared onto the balcony. No one was there and you released a sigh.

With no one there, you closed your eyes and swayed to the music. The evening air felt nice against your skin and you decided to dance. The glass slippers you wore were weightless and they easily carried your feet to beat. You spun and you spun, with no care in the world and when the music stopped, so did you. Your eyes cracked open and you laughed at yourself.

Clap! Clap!

You jumped in fright and spun back around. In the shadows of the balcony stood a dark figure, and placed a hand over your racing heart. The figure stepped out of the darkness and your breath caught when you found yourself staring up at an impossibly tall man. His outfit was black, aside from the red and white accents, and he wore a full face mask. It was white in color, but it wasn't a pristine shade, more of an ashen one, and the mask was decorated to look like a skull whose bone had been shattered in a certain places.

As the man stepped closer, you couldn’t help but marvel at his height. For some strange reason, the man from the marketplace came to mind. You weren’t given a chance to dwell on it too long, seeing how the masked man gently grabbed a hold of your hand, pulling you towards the center of the balcony.

“What are you--”

He placed a gloved hand on your lips, silencing you, then he moved that hand down until it rested comfortably around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His left hand met your right one and he began leading you in a simple waltz.

Your eyes widened and you tried to pull away from him. “I haven’t danced in years. I won’t be any good at it.”

The masked man came to a stop, and he looked at you through the black lenses of his mask.There was a pregnant pause, then he began leading you in the dance again, this time a tad bit slower. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You mumbled, missing the shake of his shoulders as the man silently chuckled. 

The dance was awaked at first, seeing how you accidentally stepped on his foot not once, but twice. Each time, he just shrugged his shoulders and kept leading you in the dance, as if nothing happened. Halfway through the song you began to relax and you leaned forward, resting your head against the man’s broad  chest. He hummed and wrapped his arms around you, and you melted in his touch. 

There was something about this man that called to you, and found yourself unable to resist his sweet lull. You took in a deep breath and buzzed in delight when his warm and musky scent filled your lungs. It smelled nice, and somewhat familiar. You wracked your brain, trying to figure out if you knew this man or not, and when the song ended you had came to the conclusion that you had indeed met him. 

“You're the man from the marketplace, aren’t you?” you asked, slowly reaching up for his mask. 

The man nodded and you tentatively traced your fingers against the raised edges of the skull like mask. Nothing was said as you removed it and you carefully set it down on the ledge of the balcony. You observed his scarred face and with the same hand that had removed the mask, you began to lightly caress the raised skin. Your hand continued to move up and you allowed the tips of your fingers to brush against the edge of the eyepatch. It was soft and seemed to have been made of imported velvet. 

You suddenly froze when the man raised his hand, and you bit down on your bottom lip when the leather of his glove touched your cheek. With a gentles that you hadn't expected the man to possess, he slipped your mask off, settling it beside his. 

You weren't sure who moved first, but it didn’t really matter. But what did matter  was the way his lips felt against yours. They weren’t rough, like you had initially thought, instead, they were soft and hot, almost feverishly so. 

Impulsivity wasn’t something you were used to, seeing how your impulsion made it near impossible for you to control you sick and twisted sadistic side. But on your way to the ball you had come to a decision: you were going to kill your horrid stepfamily. You knew that your murderous actions were going to have consequences, and you had made peace with that; you were either going to spend the rest of your life in jail, or you were going to be executed. Either way, those two options were better than living the rest of you life with the poor excuse you called family. And quite frankly, if you were going be put to death for a triple homicide, you didn’t want to die a virgin. 

You threw your arms around the man’s neck and deepened the kiss, greedily sucking on the man’s tongue, savoring his mind numbing taste. The man’s hands latched onto your body, and lust guided the two of you into a intricate dance. Your back suddenly met something hard, but before you could think too much on it, the hardness gave away to open air. 

The mysterious man led you expertly through the darkness, and the music of the party began to fade until it became nothing more than a faint hum. He pulled back and you gasped when his scarred lips touched the curve of your neck. The necklaces that decorated your neck were pulled, breaking the delicate golden links, and they crumbled to the damp floor. The second your neck was free, he ran his tongue against the sensitive skin, nipping and sucking the tender flesh. 

Delirious  hums left your mouth and the man groaned. Your sounds of pleasure echoed all around you and you nearly fell back when the wall behind you gave way. The man steadied you and you quickly took in your new surroundings. The room was dark, primarily black in color, and there was a large, circular bed placed in the center of the room. Silver sheets decorated the bed and they glowed almost white when the moon’s light hit them. Directly behind the bed was a large window, one that spanned the entirety of the tall wall, and thick, velvet curtains of red were pulled back. 

Your observations were cut short when your partner dragged you to the bed. When it was within reach, he tossed you onto it. The mattress was soft yet firm, and it contoured perfectly around your body. Without a second thought, you kicked your heels off and made yourself comfortable. 

The man wasted no time in joining you, and you roughly grabbed his head, dragging him back down to you. While you kissed, his hands became knotted in your hair and roughly pulled out the comb that kept your hair up. The hair fell onto your shoulders and you could feel the soft hairs tickle your face. 

When you pulled back, you collapsed onto the bed and gasped for air. Your lips were swollen and your body felt warm, much too warm for you liking, and the dress was beginning to feel too tight. The man hovering above you began looking for the laces that kept your dress up, but he was frustrated to find none. It seemed that the kind fairy had forgotten something important when they made your dress. 

Growing irritated, the man removed a sharp knife from his pant’s pocket and gently placed it on your exposed cleavage. You should have been scared, seeing how you were in a darkroom with a strange man, with a knife pressed to your skin, but you weren’t. It only excited you more. There was something dark, dangerous and powerful about this man, and his entire being seemed to call out to you, even to the demoness that you tried so hard to hide. 

Without any warning, the man trailed the knife down, only to slice through your dress. You shuddered when he viciously pulled the sparkling silk away from your body. Your breasts were bare and he growled when he saw the white, glistening panties that you wore. They too had been a product of the fairy’s magic. 

The man removed his gloves and you gasped when his hot fingers touched your cool skin. Goosebumps followed in their wake and bucked your hips when his hand took a hold of your breast. The skin of his palm was thick, almost calloused, but they were surprisingly soft. 

The heat between your legs were becoming unbearable. “Please,” you cried. “I need more.” 

A wicked smirk appeared on the man’s face and you whimpered when the man climbed off the bed. You were about to protest but stopped when you saw him beginning to undress. His chest was thick with muscles and placed directly over his sternum was a tattoo; the black ink bleed softly into the surrounding tissue and your eyes followed the skull and twin knife design. You had never seen a tattoo before and wanted so badly to touch it. 

The sound of fabric rustling caught your attention and you glanced down. He was slowly working his pants off and you felt the oxygen leave your lips. Sharp lines clung close to his delicious abs and they disappeared behind the fabric of his pants. You mouth fell open and you shamelessly watched as the man removed his pants and underwear in one swift motion. His cock bounced against his muscled stomach and his balls were taut. You had seen pictures of what hid beneath the pants of men in books, but never in person. The real life thing was so much better. 

The man moved his hands and you followed them. “Like what you see?” he signed. 

“It’s beautiful,” you replied, eyeing it hungrily. 

A silent laugh left the man and you laid back on the bed. “I need you,” you whimpered, fruitlessly rubbing your thighs together. 

He sauntered back towards the bed and stared down at you. You held out your arms and arched your back. “Please?” you begged once more. 

The man pounced on you and his large hands easily tore through your panties. His thick fingers teased your slick folds and you gasped when he pushed a finger inside. He pumped it in and out of you a few times. The immediate discomfort you felt melted away and you moaned as an unfamiliar pleasure began to form. The man suddenly stopped his ministrations and you whimpered. 

“You’re a virgin.” He signed, looking down at you with a smirk. 

You nodded. The light behind his eye darkened and you were surprised when the man easily slid between your legs and removed his hand from your needy core. He rubbed the bulbous tip of his cock against your entrance and you threw your head back. Everything felt so wonderful, but you needed more. 

The man grabbed a hold of your chin and forced you to look at him. “What do you want, little girl?” he asked. 

“I want you inside me.” You confessed, pulling him for another kiss.  

Not a second later, the man pushed into you. The pain was immediate and you screamed, but he greedily swallowed it. Your walls pulsed around him and pulled him deeper, and he lowered himself so that his weight rested on you. 

You wrapped your arms around him and while you kissed, he wiped the tears from your cheeks. As soon as the pain came, it disappeared, and you carefully moved your hips in an experimenting way. The man inside you groaned and he slowly pulled out, only to slam back inside of you. Every thrust made your body shake and the mind numbing pleasure increase. 

You didn’t care that you didn’t know this man’s name. You didn’t care that your actions could have consequences. Right now, you were free, and you were experiencing something that you had only read about in books. Never in your life did you think that you would experience the pleasure of connecting with someone so intimately, and you selfishly wished that you and this man could spend the rest of your lives giving yourselves to one another, but you knew that that would never happen. 

Every nerve in your body vibrated and you felt yourself drowning in the ecstasy that this man was bathing you in. You back arched and you cried as the pleasure became too much. Every muscle in your body convulsed and your vision went white. Your toes dug into the satin sheets and tears wiggled their way out of your sealed eyes. 

The man continued to fuck you, only to stop after a particularly deep thrust. Something warm filled you and you sighed in contentment. When you opened your eyes, you found the man staring down at you with a mangled look of possessiveness and pride. 

Something warm and heavy was wrapped around you, trapping you, and you slowly opened your eyes. The first rays of light flittered into the room, giving everything a golden glow. Your head was resting on the man’s naked chest and you could hear the faint beating of his heart.  You were half tempted to fall back to sleep, but that idea went out the window when you remembered that you still had a family to murder. You could sleep after killing them. 

You glanced up at the man’s slumbering face and felt your body grow warm once more. The two of you had spent the entirety of the night worshiping one another’s bodies and allowing yourselves to travel to the gates of Nirvana over and over again. Your entire body ached, but you loved it. The sun continued to rise and you carefully placed a kiss on the man’s face, mindful not to wake him. 

You slowly and gingerly removed the man’s hands from your bruised body, and you slunk off the bed, hissing when your feet touched the cold ground. Your legs shook and the juncture between your legs ached. Dried blood and semen painted the insides of your thighs and you smelled of sex and sweat. You could also make out the faint notes of the man’s cologne. 

You searched for the ripped dress and huffed when you couldn’t find it. You had forgotten that the fairy’s magic expired at the stroke of midnight. Unbeknownst to you, the man had woken and was watching you in amusement.  

With nothing to wear, you decided to slip the man’s shirt on. The fabric was soft in your hands and as you were about to put it on when something warm touched your back, more specifically, your scars. You were about to say something when the man’s hot lips placed gently kisses on the raised skin. 

The man carefully spun you around and looked at you with a burning gaze. “Where did you get those scars?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied, looking down. 

The doors to the room were suddenly thrown open and a blanket wrapped around you. Numerous footsteps came to a halt, and a deep voice filled the room. “There you are, Your Majesty.”

‘Your Majesty’? Your head snapped up and you stared at the man. 

He wore a large smile and you felt the blood drain from your face. The man took another step towards you and he wrapped his arms around your blanket clad figure, pulling you into his chest. Realization dawned upon you and you burrowed your face into his chest. You had spent the night with the king, and the king had taken your virginity. Not only that, but you had pushed him onto the bed, only to bounce up and down his cock like your life depended on it. 

Oh, God, could this get any worse?

You could feel King Cromeans move his hand and you figured that he was signing to the people who had rudely barged into the room. A few minutes later, you could hear the people leave and as soon as the door closed, the king sat back down on the bed, leaving you standing. Without a second thought, you fell to your knees and looked down. 

“Please forgive me for my ignorance, My King. Had I had known that it was you, I wouldn’t have—”

King Cromeans gently grabbed a hold of your face and forced you to look up. He wore an amused smile. “—ridden my cock like some sex starved whore?” he teased. 

Shame washed over you and you nodded. The king silently laughed and gently pushed the hair out of your face. “Now, little girl, I want you to tell me where you got those scars and where you were trying to sneak off to this morning.” 

Soft music filled the tea room and you ran your finger along the brim of your teacup. The crown atop your head felt heavy and you carefully removed it. The metal was silver in color and the large diamonds that lined it had been expertly carved into skulls. When you had woken in the morning, you were simply Cinderella, but after telling the king your story, and telling him of the plan to kill your family, you had been proposed to. And within two hours, you had been married. You were now Queen Cinderella Cromeans, prized jewel of King Jesse Cromeans. It was now noon, so you had been married for roughly two hours, and the reality of your new life had yet to set in. 

A knock sounded at the door and the harpist stopped playing. You quickly put the crown back on and smoothed your hair down. A few seconds later, the door opened and your lady in waiting, Spann, entered the room with your stepfamily in tow. Their eyes widened when they saw you sitting at the table, crown atop your head and black dress hugging your figure. 

Spann curtsied before you and watched as your stepmother and stepsisters followed her lead. No one aside from the people within the castle knew of the king’s hurried wedding, so it didn’t come as a surprise that your family looked surprised. Of course, the surprise was even greater for them, for their detested Cinderella was now the queen of the great kingdom. 

You smiled sweetly at your family and motioned for them to stand up. “Please join me for tea.  There are a few things I would like to discuss with you.” 

Tisbe was the first to sit and Clorinda was the second. Rodmilla stared down at you in defiance and you lifted your teacup. “Sit down, stepmother.” You ordered, voice dripping with authority. 

You watched as she took her seat and you held out cup, signaling the waiters to approach. They filled the table with an assortment of treats and they filled your cups; you cup consisted of rose and blackberry tea, whereas the tea your stepfamily had been served was something of your own creation: deadly nightshade berries and crushed leaves, with a dash of lemon peel for taste. 

Spann turned to leave the room and you called out to her. “Please join us, Spann.” 

Her dark eyes widened and she simply nodded her head. Another chair was prepared for her and she too was given a cup filled with deadly nightshade. 

You raised your teacup and smiled. “Cheers to new beginnings.” 

Your family and Spann raised their glasses and you watched as they began to drink their tea. You hid your smile with your fan and motioned for the servers to refill their cups. It was only a matter of time before death would claim them and you wanted to have some wicked fun with them before they succumbed to the poison.

“My husband is rather upset with you.” You said, breaking the silence.

Everyone stilled and Rodmilla lowered her teacup. You were half tempted to order her to drink, but she was already on her third cup and her skin had paled considerably since she had arrived at the palace. 

“Why would the king be upset?” she asked.

You stirred a spoonful of honey into your tea and hummed. “Because you and your daughters left scars on the Queen.” 

Clorinda choked on her tea and she wiped her mouth with the corner of her napkin. Rodmilla merely shrugged her shoulder and wiped the sweat from her brow. “Your behavior and attitude needed correcting.” 

You laughed at her response and snapped the fan shut. “My husband seems to have no problem with it. In fact, he’s rather encouraging.” 

Your stepmother was about to respond when Tisbe began shouting. “Get away!” She abruptly stood up but fell to her knees. It seemed the poison was taking effect. Clorinda slumped forward and her face cracked the teacup, spilling the toxic tea everywhere. Rodmilla began to shake and her lips began to turn a dazzling shade of blue. 

You then turned your burning gaze to your husband’s previous mistress, and you smiled. Like your stepmother, her skin was turning blue and she was starting to fall unconscious. You hadn’t been surprised when Preston told you of the relationship that Spann had previously shared with your husband. All it took was one look at the dark eyed woman to know that she still lusted for your husband. In a way, she reminded you of you, seeing how she too was attracted to power and all things dark, but there was one major difference between you two: you were willing to kill, whereas she wasn’t. 

You waited patiently and a little after an hour had passed, Rodmilla finally died, joining her  precious daughters and your husband’s ex-mistress. You slowly stood up from the table and ringed the bell. Immediately, servants entered the room and they began cleaning the mess. While they did that, King Cromeans stalked into the room and inspected the work you had done. His eye landed on Spann’s body and you walked up to him, placing one hand on his cheek and the other on his chest. 

“I don’t share, My King.” 

Jesse looked down at you smiled. You were perfect; beautiful, kind, a succubus in the bed, and surprisingly sadistic. You were his equal in every way, right down the blood thirsty monster inside. 

“Neither do I, My Queen.” He signed, bending down and claiming your lips in a searing kiss. And thus you lived happily ever after.

#jesse cromeans x reader #jesse cromeans x you #jesse cromeans #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x fairytale au

[katyspersonal]

Time to count Bloodborne characters!

(Some might be slightly debatable, as depending on the interpretation two could be the same character or one character could be two separate or not exist, so headcanons warning!)

Apparent:

1,2) Maria, Doll

3) Gehrman

4) Eileen

5) Djura

6) Laurence

7) Willem

8) Micolash

9) Ludwig

10) Simon

11) Brador

12) Valtr

13) Gascoigne

14) Viola

16) Henryk

17) Younger daughter

18) Older daughter

19) Younger Madaras twin

20) Older Madaras twin

21) Yamamura

22) Gratia

23) Amelia/Emilia

24) Doctor Iosefka

25) Imposter Iosefka

26) Yurie/Julie

27) Archibald

28) Izzy/Jiří

29) Caryll/Karel

30) Queen Annalise

31) Logarius

32) Alfred

33) Queen Yharnam

34) Edgar

35) Patches

36) Damian

37) King of Cainhurst

38) Rom

39) Ebrietas

40) Kos

41) Orphan of Kos

42) Mergo

43) Brain of Mensis (counting as one)

44) One Reborn (counting as one)

45) Flora (Moon Presence)

46) Oedon

47) Mergo’s Wet Nurse

48) Arianna

49) Adella

50) Chapel Dweller

51) Lonely old woman

52) Narrow-minded man

53) Suspicious beggar

54) Adeline

55) Arianna’s baby

56) The paleblood hunter

57) Cleric beast of the bridge

58) Paarl

59, 60) Yahar’gul hunters at the gate to the chapel

60, 61, 62) Yahar’gul hunters that ambush you after crashing lantern

63) Antal

64) Josef

65) Vitus

66) Olek

67) Gremia

68) Wallar

69) Queen Killer

70, 71) The girls at the Surgery Altar

72, 73) Hunters of Despair (I think Yharnam one is the same guy dead on the chair in Hemwick, so I will not count that one separately)

74) That black church guy in Research Hall

75-83) Nine non-hostile patients with the dialogue

84) Blood Minister at the starting cutscene

85) Forgotten Madman

86) Madman’s escort

87) Crow of Cainhurst

88) Djura’s ally

89) Djura’s apprentice

90) Bestial hunter (possibly former Oto Workshop owner???)

91) Gilbert

92, 93) Witches of Hemwick

94) Fishing Hamlet priest

95) Henriett

96) Yahar’gul hunter in underground cell

Obscure:

97) Evelyn (I think she is Annalise’s mother, aka redhead woman in the crown on one of the Cainhurst portraits)

98) First Hunter of Hunters

99) Door NPC that says ‘yayyy night of celebration!’ in low alley

100) Door NPC in Hemwick

101) Door NPC in the woods that complains about loud noise (lost in translation that she is more likely to listen to Mergo’s cry than us)

102) The ‘oh, you poor thing’ snobby NPC in central Yharnam

103) The ‘depths of depravity’ door NPC

104,105) Two door NPCs in the alley you find Arianna and boomer guy ay

106,107, 108) Two door NPCs in main street in Central Yharnam + whoever one of them says ‘not an inch closer’ to after nightfall

109,110,111) Remember the door close to the Grand Cathedral in which a woman screams ‘my precious baby’ and then at someone to stay away? Possibly her husband or whoever the third person was turned into beast and killed the baby

112, 113) Two remaining door NPCs that say ‘bless us with blood’

114) Lonely old woman’s husband; she starts mistaking us for her child, and if killed says ‘just like your father’. Also in cut content her son was Patches, so I did not count actual baby because I like the idea!

115, 116) Two Knights on Cainhurst portraits

117) Cainhurst portrait in red with a gold pendant and a necklace Church Servants wear (hc him as Laurence’s father)

118) Cainhurst portrait in heavy armour (this armour is often found in dungeons)

119) Old lady from Cainhurst portraits

* I did not count portraits of Bellringer and a noble woman in grey dress as I think they’re just Fauxsefka and Iosefka, but keep in mind they could be their own characters

120) Annalise’s aborted baby / cord from workshop

121, 122) Two bloodletting beasts

123, 124, 125) The family you find afflicted beggar eating

126) Dead Choir member in Yahar’gul

127) The petrified person you learn Make Contact from

128) Adella’s mentioned ‘friend’ (I hc they are the person you pick black church garb from)

129) Big Celestial emissary who is a boss and drops the Communion rune

130) Specific Amygdala that Patches was favouring

131) Chester (he is in Dark Souls but his dialogue, design and even style of fighting EASILY mean Miyazaki put reference for his incoming project that Bloodborne was and written him as someone who got there from Yharnam)

132) Fauxsefka’s baby

133) A celestial emissary corpse with a still-human arm

134, 135, 136) Choir members you pick the: choir set, blindfold cap, cosmic watcher eye badge from

137) Dead person in the woods you pick white church set from

138, 139) Two dead guys you pick Hunter sets from

140) A person you pick Blacksky Eye from

141) An actually one-eyed person that owned Iron Helmet before Valtr

142) Izzy’s admirer

143) Hostile Isz tomb prospector NPC in preset dungeons

144) The guy statue in Oedon Tomb is after (I believe he was a vessel for Oedon rather than that Oedon WAS this human before)

145) Cain (As in, ancient guy the name of Cainhurst roots from! As in how Yharnam is named after old Pthumerian queen.)

146) Ludwig’s horse (whereas I do not hc that he directly fused with it, I think he still had one, I will explain some time later)

147) A unique beast-possessed soul that doesn’t respawn, before the door in the lower alley

* I did not count a few corpses you pick full sets from, as I didn’t consider them ‘unique’ enough

Cut content:

148) Leo (his data is still in the files btw!)

149) Carla (a unique Keeper of the Old Lords)

150) Ashton (he was in Laurence’s place when Laurence was in Willem’s place during game’s development)

151) And old lady that would be in Iosefka’s clinic instead

152) Fauna the Great One Beast

153) Aragon (a name mentioned by huntsmen)

155) Brandon (Eileen’s set used to be called Brandon’s set, so I use this name for a Hunter of Hunters that came just before her)

156) Norbert

157) A Cainhurst knight with scythe and peg leg (stealing Gehrman’s style?)

* I did not count mentioned name Idola, as I think that’s Wet Nurse’s real name

* I did not count mentioned names Fort and Laura, as I think they’re names of the Bloodletting beasts we find

* I did not count mentioned name Louvan, as I think this is the guy from Oedon’s Tomb statue real name

* I did not count slug princess, as I think that was Kos when she was a mortal

Sooooo I counted 157 characters! Could be less or MORE depending on the headcanons and interpretations!

(UPDATE 11/13/22)

158) Specific Amygdala in Yahar'gul chapel

159) Madaras snake

160, 161, 162) Other constables, three corpses that you find pieces of set on

163) The beast Valtr and his friends chased

* I did not count the beast Yamamura chased, as I believe it was Izzy after he turned into a dragon-like beast and ended up devastating his homeland on his way

#bloodborne #use later #bloodborne reference #bloodborne headcanons #multi character post