#Disney Retelling

[sapphirelightningbug]

Soooo I’m planning after Love, Actually, (happy chapter 2 release day!!!) and my next fic 🐕❄️ to start making a Disney Princess Retelling with HOTD characters and these are the ones I'm planning on doing, this should be coming out Late February/Early March

NOTE: FROZEN IS CREGAN STARK X READER X JACAERYS NOT AEGON

[jknerd]

Bambi the Elf Prince AU

Bambi the elf prince, Thumper the dwarf, and Flower the fairy^^

[the-smut-analyst]

Woah. Disney got dark, bro.

5 deliciously dark and smutty Disney retellings that will send you straight to hell.

You're welcome.

This blog post includes Amazon Affiliate links. Always check trigger warnings before reading. Your mental health is important <3

1. A Ship of Bones & Teeth by Karina Halle

Ever wondered how different the Little Mermaid might have gone if Ariel was a man-eating siren?

Well, then have I got the rec for you...

I'm not exaggerating about the man-eating thing, by the way. In Karina Halle's version of Siren lore, they quite literally eat the hearts of men.

And yes.

This does occur on page.

Instead of being a re-telling of the Little Mermaid and Prince Eric falling in love, A Ship of Bones & Teeth instead transports us 10 years into their marriage - where things ain't looking so dandy for the reformed siren and her royal beau.

Turns out that (surprise, surprise) our protagonist, Maren (aka Ariel 2.0: Heart-Eating Edition), kind of regrets leaving the sea behind. Especially since Prince Eric turned out to be an abusive deadbeat who only liked her when she didn't have a voice.

But then Captain Ramsay "Bones" Battista enters the chat.

Alongside his notorious crew, Captain Bones commandeers the royal ship, and takes Maren as a prisoner. (And that's when things start getting better down where it's wetter, if ya know what I mean).

If you like your characters morally grey, your male leads with a bit of swagger, and your smut with a light dose of bondage - then add this book to your TBR.

Available for purchase here.

2. Luxuria by Colette Rhodes

Ever wondered how much more fun Beauty and the Beast might have been if Beauty had a serious monster kink?

Well then, look no further...

Far from the standard whiny, blushing bride that often accompanies the arranged marriage trope, Ophelia likes what she likes - and owns it.

And what she likes above all else is Shades - aka the "shadow demons" she was raised to kill by her family of Hunters. Yup. This version of Beauty has a serious monster kink.

So when a peace treaty is eventually brokered between the Hunters and the Shades - and part of that peace treaty involves sending a bride to the Shadow Realm to marry the king - Ophelia is like...

But instead of all her monster-banging fantasies coming true, Ophelia husband isn't interested. He's grumpy, suspicious, and does his best to intimidate his new wife every chance he gets.

Little does the King of Shades realise, however, that Ophelia is totally into all the snarling and growling. Instead of being scared, she's actually like...

It's a bit of a slow-burn to start, but once King Allerick realises that the scent his new wife keeps giving off is actually her arousal, not her fear? Well... Let's just say the slow-burn turns into a full-on forest fire.

If you like books that make you laugh out loud, your smut on the kinky and consensual side of the Omegaverse, and your male leads to be more monster than man - then this is the perfect book for you.

Available for purchase here.

3. Velvet Cruelty by Eve Dangerfield

Ever watched Snow White and thought about how much better it would have been if, instead of seven dwarves, we got multiple hunter characters instead?

Well then, fret not, cause Ms. Dangerfield's got you covered with...

This Snow White retelling does not hold back. It is brutal, seductive, and decadent.

This one's not for the faint of heart. The themes and the sexual content is dark as hell. Like, it puts the dark in dark. Fans of the Saints & Sinners Duet, or fans of Mafia Romance in general, probably won't blink an eye - but for anyone new to this sinful little corner of the romance section - proceed with caution.

Seriously. This is a code red: dead dove do not eat situation.

Unlike a lot of "why choose" romance, there's no skimming in terms of character development and complexity here. The four "hunters" are awful but - in typical Eve Dangerfield style - they're also damn interesting. This author is genuinely brilliant at weaving complex, unique characters that draw you in.

If you like your romance dark as hell, with villainous love interests and a generous smut-to-plot ratio, then give Velvet Cruelty a try.

Available for purchase here.

4. Escaping Wonderland by Tiffany Roberts

Ever wondered how you might feel if the Mad Hatter and Cheshire Cat characters were blended to make a crazy-yet-kinda-hot hybrid?

Alright, maybe not.

But regardless, I am here to present exactly that...

Let's face it. Alice in Wonderland is probably the one Disney movie that really didn't need to get more messed up. It's already a thinly-veiled acid trip as is. However, if you can count on anyone to throw in a bit more dark and twisted (ya know, just for fun) then its the writing duo that make up Tiffany Roberts.

The smut in this book actually isn't too out there (aside from the fact that the love interest is basically a humanoid cat). What makes this retelling especially dark though is its themes.

In Escaping Wonderland, Wonderland itself is actually a medically induced hallucination. One that psychiatric patients are subjected to against their will, until they eventually lose their grip on reality.

If these themes aren't a trigger for you, then I'd highly recommend giving Escaping Wonderland a try. It's the perfect romance for readers who enjoy when sci-fi and fantasy intersect, as well as for readers who don't mind a bit of monster in their male protagonists.

Available for purchase here.

5. Titan by Jillian Graves

Did you ever watch the Hunchback of Notre Dame and think that those gargoyles were a bit of alright?

Well then, hold my beer...

Yes, you read that correctly. This is a Daddy-DOM romance featuring a wealthy gargoyle. Don't judge me. Only the Lord can do that and I've already burned that bridge.

I gotta admit, before this book I avoided the daddy kink like the plague. But now I consider myself a convert. Now I am more like...

Titan also gets bonus pun for the series title. I mean... Romancing His Stone?!?!

Brilliant. 10 pun points for Gryffindor.

If you like books that are kinky and consensual, include some well-thought-out world-building, and that are sex worker positive to boot, then walk, don't run - Jillian Graves has got you covered.

Available for purchase here.

Hope you enjoyed this smutty Disney list. I'll meet you all in hell!

[darklordofthesimp]

The Beskar Beast VIII (Din Djarin x Reader)

CHAPTER 8

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

A Beauty and The Beast Retelling. Series Masterlist

A/N: Coming up on the last few chapters now, the curse and the plot will finally tie together.

Rated: 16+

Warnings: Swearing - Non-Explicit Descriptions of Sex

The days had turned into a blur. 

You’d wake up, eat breakfast and manage to keep yourself busy for a few hours until lunch finally rolled around. If this was the way it was going to be for the next two years, you’d need more mental stimulation than arguing with Peli over which ship had the best engineering. 

By the time dinner would approach, you were virtually buzzing with both anxiety and curiosity. You'd tried to pull information from him every day and every day he would shoot down your subtle questions with a swift change of topic.

Tonight would be different. 

The Beast was due to feed and you'd heard nothing from him all day. 

Din. 

You reminded yourself that he had a name. After years of his reputation terrorizing Nevarro, it was hard to see him as anything other than the creature he’d made himself out to be. 

But his name was Din Djarin and although he was cursed, terrifying and deadly, he was not a monster. 

“Dinner’s ready,” Cara called from where she leaned against the doorframe. You jumped at the sound of her voice, shaking the jitters from your hands. The warrior eyed you curiously as she stepped aside to let you pass. You knew you must have looked vacant. You felt numb as you moved down the hallway, your heart beating wildly against your ribs.

Tonight, you were going to present Din with a new set of demands and hopefully he’d see it as more of an accord than anything else. You swallowed nervously as you thought of all the ways this could go wrong. 

Again, you found your hand hovering over the button to open the door. Again, you were hesitating. And again, the Beast watched you struggle. 

“You look like you’re about to run,” Din’s voice came from over your shoulder. 

Your body jolted as you spun to face the cursed enigma haunting your thoughts. The Mandalorian’s beskar glittered with the reflection of the soft lights illuminating the hallway. He looked like a fallen god as he moved towards you, slowly as if not to startle you further. 

You remembered suddenly that he had spoken. 

“You’d like it too much if I ran,” you whispered, knowing full well that he could hear you clearly. Din snorted at your words, his visor trained on your trembling figure. 

“You’re too brave to do it, anyway.” He said, his tone softening to match yours. “Although, you’re also too stubborn to let me enjoy anything at your expense.” 

Your mouth ran dry as the being before you began to approach, that helmet tilting as he appraised you. His gaze burned against your skin and it was almost as if you could feel him scouring you from top to bottom, taking in every detail from beneath the mask.

“I’ve run before,” you said simply, albeit breathless. “So, clearly not that brave.” 

Din came to a gentle halt inches from your body. You didn’t budge, you didn’t step away from him despite how logic screamed for you to maintain your distance.

“And yet,” his voice was low, “you’re still here.” 

You caught the double meaning behind his words. You’d come back from your attempted escape willingly, yes. But right there, your body a hair's breadth from his, you hadn’t shied away.

“I’m yours, remember?” 

Din sucked in a breath. Your body froze. You’d meant to sound snarky, you wanted to be sarcastic. Instead, the words had been vulnerable. They’d been resigned. The words sounded like your acceptance. 

“Yeah," he rasped, his voice strained. "I remember." He stared at you for a long moment more, the tension rising like hot pressure in your chest. 

Something had shifted between the both of you the night you'd dragged him back from the desert. It had been around two months since then, but slowly the hatred you'd felt for him began to thaw. 

Not enough to put you at ease in his presence, but enough to spark your curiosity. Enough to make you look forward to dinner every night. 

"You should eat before the food gets cold," Din cleared his throat suddenly and you cast your gaze to the ground. He moved past you, pressing the button to open the door. 

He let you enter first, as usual. Trailing behind you like an overqualified bodyguard… or an escort. A hot flush ran through your chest and your heart raced at the thought of it.

A Mandalorian escort, trailing you into a dimly lit room. That's how feeding usually went. He'd follow you in quietly, guiding you to the lounge with a light hand on your lower back. You'd lay down, sometimes needing soft encouragement when panic would rise in your chest. 

Din would tell you that it's okay to be afraid, whisper how well you were doing as he slowly put a knee between your thighs. His body would be atop yours. The Beast's fingers would skim the skin of your shoulders, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he gently brushed your hair from your neck. 

Then he'd lean it to kiss you, lips barely a breath away-

"Are you okay?" 

You startled, your knee knocking against the bottom of the table as you jumped. Your breath came as a ragged gasp as you twisted to face your Mandalorian. His helmet was on the table now, that crimson gaze running along your features with concern.

"I'm fine," you rasped, slowly lowering yourself back into your seat. 

"Your heart was racing," Din said slowly, rocking back onto his heels lightly. "Is this… is this about after dinner?"

"No!" You said quickly, too quickly.  

Din's eyes narrowed. 

"I actually have a proposition to make about our… agreement." You stated simply, straightening in your seat. If he had the right to change the subject whenever you were the one asking questions, then you could too. 

Din visibly hesitated, torn between his curiosity and his concern. 

“Hear me out at least,” you prodded, leaning into your chair casually. He wasn’t buying the act but he wasn’t really being given a choice. You watched him make the decision to let your monumental blunder go unquestioned, his shoulders relaxing as he sighed. 

“Go ahead,” Din inclined his head towards you slightly before moving back to take a seat. 

Your hands began to sweat. You hadn’t thought this far ahead, really. The assumption was that Din would have swerved the topic in general, knowing that you were going to try to make a deal that he’d dislike. 

“Well,” you coughed, shifting in your seat uncomfortably as the Mandalorian watched you intently. Amusement glittered in his eyes as he sat back, his legs spread wide and his arms crossed. 

“Okay,” you wheezed, eyeing the length of his body warily. “You can’t feed on me today unless you tell me about the curse.” 

Din raised a brow as a cold sweat trickled down your spine. 

“That sounds more like an ultimatum, mesh’la. Not a proposition.” The corner of his lips tugged upward as he scoffed softly. The warrior shook his head, as though this was nothing but amusing. 

“You could have just asked,” he said simply, leaning back into his seat. 

“And you could have said no,” you replied evenly. 

Din stared for a long moment, watching you burn beneath his gaze. “I could have,” he nodded slowly, “but you don’t take no for an answer, do you?” 

You said nothing and the Mandalorian’s lips quirked upward. 

"Well," he said, standing to his feet. You followed in suit, skittering from your chair to be upright and as tall as you could manage. You wanted to be taken seriously. Of course, you knew that if Din truly wanted to he'd have you beneath him and his teeth in your neck before you could manage a scream. 

But he didn't want to. Instead, he humoured you. He listened to you. Just as he had for the past couple of months.

"I have a counter-offer," Din said, standing before you with an easy presence. You nodded for him to continue. "If you let me feed, you have me for the rest of the night to answer any questions. I'll show you anything you want."

You mused over it. He was willing to work with you. You supposed maybe he just didn't want to be hungry when a difficult question came up. 

"Deal," you agreed. 

You must truly love making deals with the Devil himself. You seemed to be doing it constantly, offering new propositions and making demands. 

By the hidden smile on Din's face, you knew he was thinking the same. 

____

The warm glow of flickering candles washed over your silhouette and you swallowed thickly. The room smelt fresh, like what you'd imagine a tropical planet to smell like in the morning. 

Earthy, with a hint of sweetness from thriving flora. 

Your heart stung with a sudden desire to see it. Flowers, forests, space, nebulas- so many colours that you craved.

Din's fingers brushed against your lower back and you turned to face him. 

"Candles, huh?" You smiled nervously and your laugh was more like a breathless rasp. 

The Mandalorian didn't respond, his eyes focusing on everything but yours. You didn’t push the topic, you didn’t want to scare away the soft demeanour he’d taken on. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he almost looked vulnerable, shyly averting his gaze and hiding beneath the dim lighting. 

There was something different about tonight as if you were both taking another step to push this dysfunctional partnership to a new level.

“How are you feeling?” Din asked, his voice slicing through your thoughts and putting a halt to the thread you were chasing. 

“Good,” you replied. There was a shake in your voice but there was no point trying to hide your growing anxiety. It was only natural and Din could, quite literally, sense your fear. 

You thought that he’d lead you to the lounge like it had happened countless times before. Not this time.

Instead, the Mandalorian turned to face you square on, his dark eyes fixated on your features. You watched him through your lashes as he stepped closer, barely an inch between your bodies. 

His scent overwhelmed your senses, seeping into your mind and curling in your chest. Smoke, leather and pine. You swayed on your feet, disoriented. Din filled your vision, his hand pressing against your lower back to keep you from falling. 

“You’re okay,” he murmured as you leaned into him, your forehead resting against his chest. You squeezed your eyes closed, trying to dispel whatever magic you’d been tainted by. 

“You’re making me dizzy,” you whispered. That was a severe understatement. 

You suddenly couldn’t breathe. Hot flushes crawled along your skin and tremors stroked your spine like a lovers caress. He was invading your senses, flooding your thoughts with images. You couldn’t stop yourself from seeing them, whether your eyes were open or not. 

You saw yourself on top of him, his fingers running through your hair. His gasps against your mouth. Your moans against his shoulders. The heat of his skin against yours as you writhed against him, head thrown back in ecstasy.

“Din,” you rasped, “get the fuck out of my head.”

Your fist beat against his chest and he grasped your wrist. Ducking his head to meet your gaze, the concern was clear on his features. 

“I’m not in it,” he said, confusion tainting his tone. Horror gripped you by the throat.

Your body was bared to him, stripped of anything that would hide you from his gaze.

Din’s eyes widened with sudden realisation. 

“I’m hungry,” the Mandalorian’s fingers gripped your shoulders. 

Kisses trailed down the length of your stomach until he reached the waistband of your pants. 

“What?” You snapped.

“The curse,” the words were urgent as he began to drag you to the couch. “It’s a counter-measure in case I try to starve myself. The curse will make you force me to feed on you.” 

Your arms were pinned to the bed on either side of your head, Din’s body between your legs. He leaned down, capturing your cries against his lips. 

“How do I fix it?” You ground out through your teeth. 

“I’d need to feed-” Din began. 

Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you pushed the man’s shoulders hard enough to send him falling back into the lounge. Din’s eyes were wide, his mouth parting in surprise. You’d caught him off guard with your aggression and he’d clearly let you move him to where you wanted. 

“What-” 

You straddled his legs, seating yourself in his lap before he could finish the sentence. Din’s hands fell to your thighs, his fingers gripping into your skin as you forced him further into the seat. He said nothing further, only watching you with bewilderment. 

You paused for a beat, your gaze intent as you scanned his features. His eyes flashed when both your hands found his jaw to tilt his chin upwards. 

Din remained quiet and for once, he was in your hands, vulnerable to your manic touch. 

Your lips met his, forceful and needy. Your hands cupped his jaw tightly as you whined against his mouth. His response was a low, throaty groan and his fingers dug into your skin. You could taste him on your tongue, sweet and addictive, like a drug that you couldn’t pull away from. 

Everything about Din Djarin was a trap. 

Those fingers travelled from your thighs to your waist, scorching your skin as they dug beneath your shirt. His scent enraptured your thoughts and made you itch to touch him. Even the mere sight of his face made you dizzy.

But the taste of him? 

None of the most delectable fruits galaxy-wide could compare.

Nothing would ever hold a candle to how Din Djarin felt against your skin.

The images plaguing your thoughts dissipated and his kiss was clearly enough to pierce the veil of the curse. You pulled back for air as the pressure in your chest began to ease. You were both breathing heavily, lips a hair's breadth apart with your eyes squeezed shut.

You couldn’t bare to look at him. How could you? You’d basically pinned him down, climbed into his lap and kissed him with borderline psychotic desperation. Your head spun with the numbing effects of your embrace, and your face fell into the crook of his shoulder. 

“I shouldn’t have done that,” you said aloud and the sobering realization of your actions hammered down like a court gavel. “I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Din’s fingers fell from your waist. 

“It’s not your fault,” he muttered against your skin. He was referring to the curse. Din’s tone was monotonous, as though all the liveliness from when he’d kissed you had disappeared without a trace. 

“You keep saying that,” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath. 

“Because it’s true,” Din replied simply.

“Can a curse do that?” 

“Would you have kissed me otherwise?” 

Your heart skipped a beat as you forced your mouth shut. There was no acceptable answer to that question. Curse or not, the man you sat atop had killed hundreds of people and you were his blood sacrifice, forced from your home to save your sister from dying at his hands. 

But then over the months, your heart had thawed as he revealed more and more of his true self. Then you’d accidentally begun to enjoy his company.

Then you began to like him. 

Too much. 

“That’s what I thought,” Din muttered. 

Your throat closed at the bitterness in his voice. There was such a deep sadness in the way that he spoke that it made your chest ache. Nothing made sense, was this curse a punishment? Was this so that he could atone for terrible things he had done by choice?

Had he angered a god? 

Had you?

“Why are you like this?” You whispered, sitting upright atop of him. The urgency was clear in your voice as you grasped at his shoulders. “What did you do to earn a curse that’s caused hundreds to suffer?” 

Din’s eyes flashed crimson and there was a terse silence until he finally spoke. 

“I became king.” 

___

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[lee-noma]

Cruella De Vil: House of De Vil

[storyteller7000]

Saw the trailer for Snow White March 2025.... I'm not that enthusiastic... But I got inspired for bit. Which was nice since I'm dealing with a lot of stuff right now. Trying to keep myself mentally afloat... Glad to have family, friends and three fluffy buns. Was also reminded of WhiteFangKakashi300's take on it from devinatart:

https://www.deviantart.com/whitefangkakashi300/art/One-Song-978520230

Thought it be interesting if we see through Prince Charming's eyes. Though tripping on a rock, facing a bear who is not happy wearing the prince's hat and wondering if this is "how his life is going to end" was not what he had in mind when he decided to look for Snow White...

Sorry, this is as far as I got... ^^'

Walt Disney's Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs - Prince Charming

[thatpunkmaximoff]

[Book Two of…]

Story: 3 out of 5 Smut: 2.5 out of 5

I can’t believe it took me so long to finish this book. After flying through Hooked, I expected the same to happen for this one, but I just couldn’t get into it.

Don’t get me wrong, Emily has such a wonderful way of telling a story, but I guess the royalty one just wasn’t for me.

Tristan (Scar) is everything in this book! I thought it was gonna take a while for me to like him, but damn… Michael (Mufasa) was just the worst. You’ll be rooting for Tristan from the very beginning.

As for Sara… I normally like the FMC right away, but she rubbed me the wrong way and it took forever to even remotely like her. Like I know she’s angry and wants revenge, but the entitled attitude was a no for me. Fortunately, everything worked out in the end.

Other characters will pull you in- Simon (Simba) is just the cutest- and others will have you wanting to punch them. Not all of them are who they seem to be. Seriously, I was left gasping because of who turned out good and who turned out bad.

* So far, what I’m getting is Tristan = Scar, Michael = Mufasa, Xander = Zazu..

* Lmao. Tristan really wiped beneath his mother’s eye to prove she wasn’t crying and called her out. Damn 😂

* “Long live the king” — That gave me chills.

* Faasa family. Ahh, I get it lol. But dang, they want revenge on the royal family..? This is going to be good.

* Is uncle Raf a modern Rafiki? If so, what happened to being the all-wise neutral party? lol.

* “I’m no one’s queen. I’m just the one who will burn the crown.”

* Oohhh. Is Simon (Simba) a- I hate this word, but it is what it is- a bastard that everyone pretends to not know is the new king’s child?

* And so Sara meets Tristan 😏 Sort of. I wonder how this is going to go down since she’s supposed to be married to Michael 👀

* Holy shit. Sara’s first night and a severed head is tossed at the feet of Michael. And she came with a warning from the Rebel King. Interesting…

* … and Sara’s just rubbed me the wrong way. I know she has ulterior motives, but pulling the “I am to be you queen, give me respect” just made me lose respect for her 😂

* Long live the rebel king!

* “I prefer you this way. On your knees, chest heaving, and face flushed while you stare up at your betters. Let this be a lesson, little doe. Don’t forget your place.” // “And where is that?” // “Trembling at my feet.” — yassss! lol.

* I am Team Tristan 100% 😏 Fuck Xander! I’m glad he got knocked down a couple of pegs.

* Tristan and his apparent nephew Simon are so cute 😩

* Poor Antony is about to meet his doom 😂

* Oh shit. Michael is hallucinating his dead father? Tristan is going to spin the “mad king” bit and sway people from supporting him.

* Someone needs to slap Marisol back into her place and FIND SHEINA!

* I just realized that Timothy and Paul are the human version of Timon and Pumba lol. Right?

* Oh fuck. Tristan’s trusted spy brought Sheina to the one place the rebels gather to fuck her..? wtf.

* Goddamn. Tristan is very displeased. I can’t- I can’t even write the words he said! Holy shit.

* I am not a fan of Sara finding out the castle’s secrets when she still wants to kill Tristan. I don’t trust this hoe!

* So wax play gets Sara going…

* “So you’re a witch on top of being my brother’s whore?” — goddamn 😂

* lol Edward’s punishment. I almost forgot Tristan was pissed at him.

* Oohhhh. Did she finally realize that Simon is Michael’s bastard kid?

* And Uncle Raf is here? Everyone’s just a major cockblock.

* I don’t trust uncle Raf. Or Xander. Something is up.

* My little liar… that’s what he’s been calling her this entire time 😂

* Holy shit. They’re fondling each other under the table with Michael right next to them. And someone poisoned the cousin?! And it wasn’t Tristan..? 👀

* Oh. Sara poisoned him 😂

* She should have slit that creepy bastard’s throat when she had the chance.

* Thank you, Tristan, for making him suffer. You’re a real one.

* Fuckkkk. The story of how Tristan got his scar..? Yeah, fuck Michael. He needs to die asap.

* He didn’t let her cum. What a dick 😂

* I knew something was fishy with Raf. Now he’s pinning Sara’s father’s death on the rebel king? On Tristan?! Why do I get the feeling that isn’t the truth either?

* He’s playing his brother like a fucking fiddle lmao.

* Damn. I like Sara finally standing up for herself to Marisol and Ophelia. But…

* …now Timothy’s dead because she didn’t listen. Although what are the rebels after? I doubt Tristan told them to do that unless they’re starting to not have faith in their rebel king.

* Knew someone went against his orders. But who and why?

* Oh shit. She let him fuck her 😬

* And now she knows he’s the rebel king. Let the shitshow begin.

* Fuck. Michael killed their father? And Xander and their mother nudged him the direction? wtf.

* “I am nothing if I’m not yours. So do it. Kill me, Sara. Put me out of this constant purgatory of needing you without having you.”

* … and she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t kill me. Was the dick really that good? 😂

* Shit’s gonna hit the fan! Tristan told her he didn’t kill her father and her uncle plans to use her as scapegoat so he can take the crown. For fuck’s sake.

* Oh Simon. You would ask Tristan to be your dad and break my heart in the process.

* Ophelia, you traitorous cunt! I can’t believe you snitched on Tristan and Sara. I hope they kill you.

* Marisol is a rebel!? What is going on?!?!

* Holy shit. He crowned Simon as king seven years later 😨

[i-am-drowning222]

chapter one of this drowning kingdom

The water ran thick with blood.

And as Ariel wrenched the coral dagger from the rebel’s heart, she wished it was her blood that was swirling around her, making its way up her nose. It was an effort to keep the stoic mask in check was her aunt watched on, unimpressed, as she killed the last of the rebels that had been spreading rumors of an uprising in the underwater kingdom of Atlantica. His corpse floated slowly to the sea floor, blood streaming from his chest and mixing with the salty ocean water.

Somewhere in the crowd, a child was crying. Ariel wondered if the rebel was a brother, a father, an uncle—or if was simply the execution itself that had set the child off.

Ariel’s own sister was as stoic as she was from where she watched, her aunt keeping a tight grip on her shoulder. Ursula’s cruel, unforgiving gaze roved over the crowd, and Ariel turned toward her. She couldn’t help but glance at the Trident in her aunt’s hand—her father’s Trident, that should have gone to her when he’d died. Its three prongs, golden and deadly, seemed to glow when Ursula gripped it, but the glow was dim, not as bright as when her father had held the Trident. 

But she’d been staring for too long; Ariel forced herself to tear her gaze up to her aunt. 

Ursula hardly noticed her as she swam forward to address the crowd. 

“Twenty-three rebels in this area were spreading harmful rumors that jeopardized the safety of my citizens.”

Ursula paused, awaiting the crowd’s reaction. There was none.

“Thankfully for us, our Huntress was able to put a stop to these movements and secure the safety of Atlantica once and for all.”

Ariel tuned her aunt out, studying the crowd instead. Most of their eyes were wide; the Sea Queen hardly ventured out to put a stop to rebel forces, but this town was close enough to the capital that she’d been sure to make a public appearance. To appease the people’s worries, was what she’d said to her advisors. She’d failed to mention that she herself was at the root of those worries. 

In fact, most of the merfolk in the crowd were looking up, down, anywhere but at Ursula for fear of getting arrested—or killed. But some of the braver merfolk didn’t bother masking their disgust as they stared at the Queen, and it was an effort to keep her face blank when Ariel realized that some were glaring at her. 

Yes, there had been friends of the rebels in this crowd—and she had just killed them all, right in front of them. She deserved their anger, their hate, and she knew, deep down, that if these rebels ever succeeded, she would not fight back if they made her their first target. 

When her aunt’s declaration of deceit and empty promises was through, Bullus, the Captain of the Guard, approached Ursula. He bowed respectfully, then murmured quietly enough so that only the Queen could hear. Ursula’s gaze shot to Ariel, whose heart dropped as her aunt mouthed one snarled word: Stay.

Ariel bowed her head, glancing at her sister before remaining in place while the others left for the palace in the heart of Atlantica. Her sister followed closely after her aunt, her face carefully blank. 

Once everybody had cleared out, Bullus approached her, a ghost of a smirk on his face. 

“You have one more assignment from the queen,” he said. Bullus jerked his head toward the crowd. “It appears that my men were reckless in rounding up the rebels, and in their haste, we missed one. Those responsible have been dealt with, but the rebel has not. Find him. We think he has a scar on his cheek. Learn what he knows and report back to me at high tide.”

“And what of the male?” she asked. “Should I deliver him to you as well?”

“We have no use for rebel scum after we’ve learned what they know. Do what you believe should be done with him.”

As he swam away, Ariel braved a question—albeit a quiet one. “And if I don’t?”

Bullus leveled her with a stare. “You know what will happen if you fail.”

That she did, which meant she only had a few hours to get the information she needed and make it back to the palace. Bullus stared at her a moment longer before turning and making his own way back to the palace, taking a royal dolphin. 

But Ariel was already scanning the crowd that was watching her fearfully. It was only her and two guards that remained keeping them in check. 

Her eyes hopped from face to face, and when she’d had a look at the entire crowd once, she fixated on the only male that fit Bullus’s too-vague description. It wasn’t much of a coincidence when she realized that he’d been one of the few merfolk glaring at her. Ariel gave the remaining guards a curt nod in the direction of him, and they advanced. Merfolk darted out of the way as the escaped rebel bolted, swimming as fast as he possibly could.

“He’s going for the kelp!” one of the guards yelled to the other. They pursued, but weren’t nearly fast enough. Ariel rolled her eyes. Of course Bullus and her aunt had left her with the two most incompetent guards there were. How typical. 

With a powerful flick of her tail, she was moving. The crowd scattered as she darted through it, but Ariel didn’t bother glancing back at them. She’d already passed the two panting guards. The male was only a few feet in front of her now, and though she hated what she was about to do, she relished in the hunt. She was, after all, the Huntress.

The male dove, and there was indeed a forest of kelp where he could easily get lost. And there, just beyond it, was a pitch-black trench. For a split second, Ariel hesitated. She could just let him go, tell her aunt—

But no. She couldn’t risk it. Ursula was cruel and unforgiving. If she failed to deliver the information, or if her information was false—well, she didn’t really want to think about it.

Ariel veered to the side, keeping the male in sight as they both disappeared into the kelp. The guards had already fallen behind—it was just her and the rebel in this crazed chase. 

He was panting as he raced forward, his terrified eyes searching behind him every now and then. Searching for her, she knew. But she was hidden from his gaze, and as she pushed ahead of him, she closed her eyes for a second. She breathed in the current, imagining that it was instead the wind that pushed her blood-red hair behind her, that it was grass brushing against her arms, her face. 

But then she opened her eyes, and she was once again racing alongside her prey. She palmed the dagger in her hand as she flew out of the forest of kelp, and a split second later, the male followed, still glancing behind him. 

But then he turned, and he saw her. His eyes widened in terror, the only reaction he had time for as she barreled into him, pushing him against the wall of the trench. He grunted as his back scratched against the stone, ripping at his skin. 

The two other guards finally caught up to them, and raced forward, wrestling his arms behind his back and holding him in place against the stone walls of the trench. Ariel was silent for a moment as she regarded the male—his heaving chest, the blood swirling around his back, the look of pure hatred in his glare. 

Ariel stared right back, and she knew the mask she wore was that of the Huntress, Death Incarnate. Those who took one look into her eyes were sent swimming as fast as they could the other way; though, Ariel thought, most who met her gaze did not swim typically again. 

“What do you know?” she said eventually, studying the hilt of her dagger as though she was uninterested. On the very edge of her vision, she spied a flash of gray and white. 

“Nothing,” the male spat, struggling against the guards’ hold. 

Ariel sighed. Fast as an eel she struck, dragging the dagger across his shoulder. He cried out in pain as the salt in the ocean mixed with the wound, and Ariel waited a moment to let the pain grow before she said, “Let’s try this again: What do you know?”

He met her eyes, still glaring, and Ariel almost smirked. He was braver than most, she had to admit. 

“Fine,” he breathed. “What do I know? I know a lot of things. I know that you are the Huntress, killing hundreds of innocents for your queen. I know that you will gladly kill your own citizens if it means securing your status as future queen.” The words struck, even as she registered that he’d said your queen. Not our. “I know that you are the Slayer of Men, drowning whole ships on the ocean’s surface just for the fun of it.” A muscle in Ariel’s jaw ticked. “I know that you helped the Sea Queen overthrow your family so you could eventually become queen.” Her grip tightened on the dagger. “I know that if it ever came to it, your younger sister—”

He screamed as she embedded her dagger deep into his tail, so hard that it reverberated against the stone wall of the trench behind him. 

“You have three seconds to tell me what you know before I rip out your throat with my own gods-damned hands and feed you to the sharks,” she snarled. Her tone was lethal; even the guards flicked their tails warily as she wrenched the knife from his yellow tail. Blood seeped openly into the water, and the male screamed again when she dug the dagger into his shoulder. 

“Y-you’ll let me go if I tell you?” he gasped. “I have a family—”

“Three.”

“My wife can’t—”

“Two.”

“My daughters—”

“One.”

“Fine!” he cried as she shifted the dagger, widening the wound. He was nearly sobbing now from the pain. “What do you want to know?”

Ariel thought for a split second as she considered what information she wanted to give Bullus. “What are you planning?”

“To overthrow the sea queen,” he said. “Please, just get the knife out—”

“How? What’s your next move?”

“We don’t know yet,” he choked. “We’re meeting at a cave by the Reef of—”

Ariel twisted the knife, and the male screamed, cutting himself off. She didn’t want to hear the specifics, didn’t want to have to give those bits and pieces to Bullus. “When is your next attack?” she hissed.

He was sobbing, now, and tears ran down his cheeks as he rasped, “We’re going after the stronghold in the Caspian Sea. We don’t know when we’re going to attack. That’s all I know—please, please, I don’t want my girls growing up without me.” His chest heaved with each word, and each word was tinted with pain and fear.

Ariel pulled the dagger from his shoulder and put it to his throat.

“Please,” he whispered, choking on a sob. “Please.”

Ariel stared at him a moment longer. Another flash of gray and white caught her eye. She made her choice.

And began to sing.

Her voice—the one she got from her mother, that siren-like ability to control those around her—echoed through the trench as she sang. And in that song, in that haunting melody that had summoned storms strong enough to destroy ships, that had made sailors jump into the deadly waves, she wove a message to the male. 

Take your family and leave, she sang. As fast as you can. Change your name, find someone to cover up that scar on your face. Bind these wounds and go. Join one of the river tribes if you must. And remember none of this—not the rebels, not the attack, not me.

His eyes grew distant, dazed, as the song worked its magic. Soon enough, Ariel turned that song onto the guards, giving them but one order:

Let go of him.

The guards released the male, and as he raced from the trench, Ariel stopped her song. 

The guards snapped out of their stupor as he fled, their faces paling. One of them turned to Ariel. 

“You’ll bleed for this,” he snarled, pointing his sword at her. 

Ariel cocked her head. “No, I won’t,” she said softly. She met his gaze. “But you will.”

In one quick motion, she brought her dagger through the water and gutted him, grabbing the sword from his now-limp hand. It would cost her later, she knew, to return alone, but in that moment, she found that she didn’t particularly care. 

The other guard raised his sword, but it was over before it really began. In barely three swings, she’d found the opening she needed to stab him through the chest. He choked on his own blood before the light left his eyes.

A shadow passed over her, darkening the bloody water.

Ariel lifted her head, holding the shark’s gaze as she ripped the sword from the guard’s body. 

“Enjoy your dinner.” She turned away, holding her head high as the shark feasted on the bodies of the two guards.

[nikkywrites]

The Fawn — Bambi Retelling

Summary: When Bambi’s mother dies, it’s not his father he runs into.

Prompt: “a fawn stumbles around the forest on perpetually new legs. It has several rows of needle sharp teeth, and it is always starving” by @deepwaterwritingprompts aka this post.

Warnings: Canonical Disney mom death (not described), implied body horror.

So… I don’t know where this came from, but. Here it is.

———

It is winter, when his mother becomes lost to him. Winter, when he flees from the loud crack of Man. Winter when he is left alone.

He is destined to starve.

Bambi is still a fawn. Still incapable of finding food in the snow, of surviving alone, of fending for himself. He is still a fawn when he’s running, terrified and fueled by his mother’s “hurry!”, by the echo of Man’s work. Blinded, too, by it all, his fear and all the snow. And in the panic, he wanders to a place he should not be.

There is a part of the forest where the trees grow thicker, where the highest branches are braided so close together that the sun struggles to shine through, even on the brightest days.

There is a part of the forest where magic grows.

That is where Bambi flees to, unknowing, in the blindness of his fear. Darkness clouds over him, as he bounds deeper in, the snow here thinner than everywhere else, until he stops.

In another life, he is told to listen to the forest by his father, the Great Prince. In that life, he never hears words, never holds a conversation with the place that is his home, instead learns the figurative meaning of it. In that life, he learns to be the next Great Prince of the forest.

In this life, the forest speaks.

Lost little fawn, it sighs, branches rustling with wind that doesn’t touch him. All alone in the world.

Bambi jumps, looking around, his legs shaking furiously beneath him. “Mother?” he asks, whimpering, even though the voice sounds little like her, even though it is coming from a place too high to be her, even though it only vaguely sounds like a voice at all.

You have no mother now, the forest says, Man took her.

A tremble sweeps through Bambi, his legs hardly able to keep him upright with the force of it. This is something he knows, distantly. When she tries, she is faster than he is. He remembers her warnings of Man, about how they are dangerous, how they will take him. He was told to fear them.

He was told to fear this part of the forest, too.

He backs up, bumps into a raised tree root that makes him fall into the snow. He curls up, shivering, cold. His mother is dead and he has nowhere to go.

Do not fear, little fawn. The forest lowers a branch from the tree above him, still covered with bark, offering it as either food or shelter. I can help.

“Help?”

Yes. Don’t you want Man to pay?

Bambi lowers his head to the ground, ears flicking back and forth, eyes large and fixed on the branch.

I can help you. I can make you strong, so Man never takes a deer again.

“I’m hungry,” Bambi says, soft. His stomach is heavy in him, but empty. He was just beginning to eat breakfast with his mother when— when— he hasn’t eaten his fill. He’s been hungry all winter, more so the longer it drags on.

The branch breaks, moving closer. Then eat.

Bambi shifts to his hooves.

He bites cautiously at the bark. It crumbles in his mouth, warms his belly, lingers on his tongue.

He doesn’t remember is mother’s warning to never eat anything of magic. “It takes more than it gives, little one,” she had said, curled around him in the dark. “You must never eat anything, no matter how hungry you are. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he had agreed, even as the words went over his head. What could be so awful about food, aside from a bad taste? He nuzzled his head against her neck. “I understand, mother.”

Yet here he was.

The branch is nearly stripped bare before the effects begin to materialize.

It is pain.

He’s never felt it before, not like this — burning heat, an itch, a stabbing sensation in his mouth and an internal rolling and twisting of his stomach. “Mother!” he calls, legs giving out from under him, the only feeling beside the hurt a bone-deep sick.

It lasts too long, another fragmented cry of “mother!” before it pulls him into blackness, into something that is like sleep but far worse because he can still feel the pain.

Things are different when he wakes.

He is different. The first thing he notes — only for the bone-shaking hollowing howl of it — is that he is still hungry. Once he realizes that, he can’t think of anything else. He needs to eat.

He is starving.

———

Taglist: @super-writer-gal @mr-writes

Thanks to Sleepy for telling me to post (sorry for the delay, tumblr didn’t notify me, I swear). Also kudos to past-me for writing an actually short thing.

[queenvreads]

REVIEW: Twisted by Emily McIntire

5/5 ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

This was an automatic 5-star rating before I read it, and now that I'm done, I need more!!

Twisted is a spicy and dark retelling of Aladdin, with all my favorite tropes; enemies-to-lovers, age gap, forced marriage, and a villain winning the girl. The story is brimming with slow burn, intense tension, and scorching chemistry between the characters.

Yasmin's father urgently wants her to marry someone who can manage the business and take care of her after he passes away from cancer. However, Yasmin is secretly in love with a servant and her childhood best friend, Aidan, but she fears disappointing her father. On the other hand, Julian covets the Sultan empire and believes he deserves it due to his hard work. He sees Yasmin as a spoiled brat. His initial plan is to marry her, inherit everything, and then harm her. But little does he realize that he will end up falling in love with her.

The twist was predictable, but I honestly don't care. YASMIN & JULIAN **CHEF'S KISS**

✍️Befriend me on Goodreads: ⭐HERE⭐

[readinthedarkpod]

Four bookworms walk in a thrift store...

KAITLYN: I don't have nearly as many as you but Ryan saw my bag of books on the floor. I didn't tell him- I told him we went to a bookstore, I didn't tell him how many I bought- and I had it sitting on the floor and he like, walked up and looked inside, and he was like, "Kaitlyn, what... what's this?" and I was like, "those are... I had those books already!" and he was like, "ummmm I don't think you did, actually." KRISTEN: Mind your fucking business, RYAN.

Click here to find out where you can listen to the full episode (spoiler alert: anywhere podcasts are!)

[fictionfanaticspod]

🩷ɪᴛ’ꜱ ꜱᴀᴘᴘʜɪᴄ ꜱᴇᴘᴛᴇᴍʙᴇʀ!🩷

♡Listen to our latest episode where we discuss and recommend our favorite books and fanfics featuring F/F and Disney/fairytale retellings in honor of our fic of the month: Love Worth Waiting For! Listen now wherever you get podcasts. ♡

@ajrey315 @literaturelove @spacey-stacy

[jknerd]

Prince Bambi

Full Name: Bambi Álvaldur

Aliases: The Young Prince, His Young Highness Bambi, The Elf Prince

Gender: Male

Age: Immortal (20+ in human age)

Species: Light-Nature Elf

Affiliations: United Regions of Forrest; Alfheim, Álvaldur family

Occupation: Elf Prince of United Regions of Forrest Kingdom

Family: Albrénean the Great Prince (Father), Frida (Mother), Faline (eventual wife), Geno (firstborn son), Gurri (daughter), Nello (adoptive son), Mambo (adoptive son), Ferto (youngest son), Ena (mother-in-law)

Relationships: Mena (nanny), Thumper (friend), Flower (friend), Karus (friend; favourite), Ronno (frenemy; favourite), Perri (friend; lady-in-waiting), Porro (friend), Gobo (friend), Marena (friend), Faline (friend->love interest -> eventual wife)

Likes: Running, relaxing in palace garden, sleigh riding, visiting capital or other regions, spending time with his friends, Mena telling stories of his mother, Thumper’s sisters braiding his hair

Dislikes: Slave-trading humans, storms, failing at archery, disappointing his father, Ronno’s condescending attitude, conflicts

Powers/Abilities: Speed, strength, beauty, archery, magic, deer transformation

Bambi the Elf Prince AU:

Bambi Álvaldur is a young, gracefully built, beautiful Light-Nature elf prince of Alfheim in the United Regions of Forrest Kingdom. The only heir of the Great Prince Albrénean and his wife Frida, his birth was celebrated by not only the Alfheim, but also other regions’ magical creatures in the kingdom. Raised by his mother Frida and nanny Mena with their guidance and nurturing care, he shared most of his childhood with his best friends, Thumper the Dwarf, Flower the fairy, and Faline the nature elf girl who developed a crush on him at first sight.

In the Winter, Frida took her son to the borders where they could enjoy a picnic day without prying eyes, but was targeted by slave captor, a human, who attempted to take both of them to sell them as valuable slaves to human nobles. However, Frida had her son run away and risked her life, the gunshot alarmed the elven soldiers forcing the human to return to human realm, leaving Bambi motherless. Too young to understand the death, Bambi was informed by his father Albrénean that his mother can’t be with them anymore as the young prince was to be raised by the Great Prince. Despite not having much interaction, Bambi was determined to be approved by his father as proper heir. Recovering from mother’s death, Bambi encountered two elf boys; Ronno and Karus. Ronno wanted to befriend Bambi and his friends, but his arrogant and boastful persona has left a less than pleasant impression. Meanwhile, Karus was introduced to Bambi by his father as the Wood Elf prince would be helpful with his future. While Ronno claimed he will lead the dark elves and would have Faline as future mother to his offsprings, he didn’t antagonize Bambi much as Karus helps Bambi with his lessons and training. Despite the personality differences, they shared good friendship while maintaining his routines as the heir to Alfheim throne.

However, by coming of age, Bambi was confused and hurt when his friendship with Karus and Ronno ended; Ronno occasionally berates and taunts Bambi’s compassion for weakness as Karus became cold towards him, essentially quitting as Bambi’s supporter while being helped by his parents to be Faline’s suitor. However, Bambi never shown resentment towards Faline. Realizing Faline had her eyes only on him as she remained loyal to him just as Thumper and Flower are, Bambi starts reciprocating her love. Soon, Bambi was approached respectively by Karus and Ronno who challenged him for Faline’s hand and he agreed. Bambi admitted that while he admired their strength, he didn’t want to be treated as a person who needs to be protected as he wanted both of them to take him seriously when they were hesitant to land a serious/fatal blow on him. Eventually, Bambi won each fight he had against them. According to the law, whoever questioned future heir’s right to the throne lost from battle was to be executed. But, Bambi spared their lives, claiming that would be waste of their potential for the good of kingdom and knew that they never went against him with full hate.

In coming of age ceremony of Bambi, it was interrupted when he was informed that human landlord and his troops were approaching their realm. With the human landlord and his troop approaching, Gobo—who had positive view of humans during his childhood—decided to go to them and negotiate in peace as everyone else attempted to stop him. The tragedy strikes when the landlord killed Gobo, signaling his troop to mercilessly chase after all magical beings for his conquest. Alarmed but calm, Bambi dispatched all strong army of elves, orcs, and other magical beings to fight back while protecting Faline from human soldiers. Taken by the ethereal beauty of the young elf prince, the landlord injured Bambi with the firearm. However, despite the injury, Bambi continued to lead his people and others to safety as his father went to fight against the landlord, whom he recognized as the man who murdered Bambi’s mother. Searching for his father, he, Thumper, Flower, and others saw Albrénean cornered and had his spear broken by the landlord. With a bow and arrow tossed by Thumper, Bambi aimed at the landlord and fired as the arrow hit right into the corrupted human lord’s eye, preventing him from killing the Great Prince. As Karus and Ronno took Albrénean away, Bambi watched the human lord fall off from his horse and cries in pain. Instead of finishing him off, Bambi coldly turned away leaving the human’s fate unknown (but permanently disabled and traumatized once returning to human realm).

With aquatic elves and other water beings putting out the fire, Bambi partook in restoring the destroyed prefectures and bring the life back in the kingdom with help of his betrothed Faline, his friends, proving himself as a rightful next Elf Great Prince of the United Regions of Forrest. Although he had negative memories of humans since childhood, he have been notified the humans from local human village close to the border have been defending their realm and paid respect to Frida’s resting place. With a grateful smile and overcoming the long years of fury towards human, he knew not all humans are evil and decided to contact the said village’s kind and wise Elder.

Spin-Off “Perri and Annerle” AU:

Setting after the event of “Bambi the Elf Prince” AU, Bambi appear as newly crowned Great Prince as his father decided to abdicate the throne to his son. The main character, Perri the fairy girl was present in the blessing ceremony of Bambi and Faline’s children Geno and Gurri’s birth, with her mother among the magical citizens. As a friend of Flower, Perri accompanied him and his wife Petunia to deliver the flower gifts to the new Great Prince. Noticing the strange but welcoming scent of human from Perri, Bambi has taken an interest as he privately asked her if she had met a human. Perri confessed she actually become friends with the sweet human girl named Annerle who saved Perri’s mother. Soon, Perri has become a lady-in-waiting as her former playdate Porro became a palace cook.

Later, when Annerle accidentally transported into the realm where United Regions of Forrest is, Perri quickly led Annerle to the palace introducing her to Bambi. It was revealed that Annerle have been believed in the existence of many magical beings, due to her grandparents telling stories about them. Although Ronno was openly disagreeing, Bambi and Faline decided to let Annerle stay in the palace and often visit as long as she doesn’t tell other humans about their world, which Annerle promises. 

Bambi realized that it has been centuries in human world since the great fire and defeat of the human lord, and how the human world has changed, by Annerle’s modern clothes contrasting to the humans he have encountered. Noticing Perri pondering about love, Bambi initiated the conversation for his fairy friend by asking Annerle how does her world’s humans love, flustering Perri, Porro, and Mirro. Unaware of flummoxed looks on Karus and Ronno’s expression, Annerle simply replied while there are some cases people find love through conditions of wealth, status and looks, many humans just falls in love regardless of who they are, adding that even humans of same genders can get married, much to Bambi’s fascination and Perri’s curiosity. When Annerle asked the same question, Bambi replied that while genders didn’t matter, his world is repressive in relationship when it comes to interracial ones and the relationship between magical beings and humans were hostile, in which Annerle understands. Occasionally, Bambi watches the friendship between Perri and Annerle grew, even listening to Annerle’s venting about her crush Lukas Grassi, the art student of same age.

When Annerle visits again, Bambi noticed her grief-stricken state. Being perceptive yet calm, Bambi asked if it was about Lukas. When she was silent, he assumed correctly that something unkind has happened to him. In which, Annerle tearfully told him Lukas was killed by his abusive stepfather Ludwig week ago and refused to move on. Feeling the same grief he once felt by his mother’s death, Bambi comforted her as his father Albrénean encouraged her to always remember Lukas as he is always in a special place in Annerle’s heart. When being discouraged to avenge Lukas, Annerle asked Bambi how did he handle his grief. Bambi answered that time heals as he wasn’t alone, decided to love the ones who stayed with him, even if some of them once hurt or betrayed him. His words struck in Perri’s heart, made her realize that she loves Porro; the one whom she spent most of her life bonding, fighting, reconciling and shared their pain with.

In the end, during the wedding between Perri and Porro, Bambi was one of the guests as he gave both of them a marital blessing. Noticing a familiar young man, Bambi led him to Annerle, who was shocked to see the man; it was Lukas, who was believed to be dead. It was revealed that Lukas had to live a secret life as a werewolf in a form of conditional spell when he wanted to escape poverty by becoming a successful artist. When Annerle and Lukas happily reunited, Bambi smiled and left with his family, resuming to his duty as the Great Prince with content. 

[prideprejudce]

the fact that reboots used to be like thirty or forty years apart and are now instead like 3-10 years apart is absolutely ridiculous. like are we so trapped in a capitalist hellscape that instead of us naturally cherishing a beloved piece of media like it deserves and looking forward to NEW stories with NEW universes we have to watch the same thing over and over and over again with reboot after reboot after reboot until that media has been so sucked dry that us as an audience are literally sick at the mere mention of it

[darklordofthesimp]

The Beskar Beast VII (Din Djarin x Reader)

CHAPTER 7

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

A Beauty and The Beast Retelling. Series Masterlist

A/N: Yeehaw I've been super sickkkkk please excuse my absence. I'm so excited for the next (last) few chapters. Can't wait for S3 of Mando to come out, this blog will be relevant again lol

Rated: 16+

Warnings: Swearing - Descriptions of Injuries

You knew that he was not far behind.

You would run and the Beast would chase. He was hunting, not to simply capture you, but to kill you. 

The suns had begun to set and you realized very quickly that you had no idea where you were. You’d been in such a panic when you hijacked the speeder that you’d steered in what you had thought was the general direction of the town. 

As the evening chill skittered along the lengths of your arms, you realized you should have hit the main strip by now. Dread settled in your stomach when the horizon only offered an endless desert. 

Despite your sudden sense of impending doom, you didn’t regret your decision, not even a little bit. If you were going to die you’d rather it be out here on the dunes than on that damned chaise, laying beneath the Beast as he drained you of life. 

You groaned as the sand lashed harder against your skin. You would have to stop soon, you couldn’t see a thing and the wind would continue to pick up throughout the night. If the Beast had taken a ship, you were confident that the sandstorm would obscure his vision. 

Sparks flew from beneath your feet. You gripped the brakes, squeezing your thighs against the seat as your body threatened to launch forward. The speeder’s electrics went dark and curses slipped from your tongue gracelessly.

You threw yourself from the bike as soon as it came to a stop, the hot sand burning against your hands and knees. 

Had something blown? Had it overheated?

You couldn’t smell the tell-tale signs of a blown cooling pump and the cooling unit itself looked fine. Your trained eyes dragged over the speeder, looking for any indication of a mechanical fault. 

Your stomach dropped. 

There was an EMP spike wedged between the rear deflector plates. It was a precision shot and your breath came as a shaking rasp. He was here. 

“What are you doing out here all alone, little girl?” 

You scrambled to your feet, flicking sand high with the movement. A man stood before you, barely at arm's length, shifting his weight from foot to foot. And though it wasn’t the Beast, that much was clear, he wasn’t unarmed.

A blaster was pointed almost lazily toward your stomach as a small smile played along the corners of his mouth.

You gaped at him, offering no answer to his question. 

“Well?” He prodded with faux curiosity. The man’s eyes travelled the length of your body with a critical gaze, almost as though he were evaluating you. You swallowed heavily, wishing the sand would swallow you whole. “Come now.” 

You were shoved hard from behind before you could come up with an answer. A breathless gasp ripped from your throat as you were forced to your knees, gripping the sand tightly beneath your fingers.

A quick peek over your shoulder showed a towering Trandoshan, glaring at you from above. 

“Let’s not waste time, this one will be worth a pretty price,” he hissed impatiently, nudging you roughly with the heel of his boot.  

You realized, as more figures emerged from behind the dunes, that these were traffickers- and you’d just driven straight into a trap. 

“You don’t want to do this,” you rasped, shakily. “I already have a master.” 

The words were bitter on your tongue but at that moment you’d have said anything. The human laughed, his chin tilting upward and his free hand resting on his stomach. 

“Not anymore.” 

You shook your head, manic anxiety creeping into your chest. “No, you don’t understand-” 

You cried out as you were booted in the back this time, face driving forward into the sand. The Trandoshan rested his foot against your neck, forcing your face into the desert ground and suffocating you in the dunes. Y

ou thrashed from beneath him, clawing at his leg before eventually attempting to push yourself from the ground. You couldn’t breathe, sand was in your mouth, in your nose, in your lungs- it was everywhere. 

Your heart drummed against your ribs and you could hear your own blood rushing through your ears. 

The pressure suddenly disappeared and you shot upward like a bolt of lightning. You gasped for air with ugly, heaving breaths. You couldn’t raise your head, your vision blurred and spotty as oxygen raced to your head. 

Something fell to the ground hard beside you, flicking sand against your skin. The Trandoshan lay lifeless, eyes staring blankly towards the sky. 

You froze. 

The Beast stood tall above your miserable frame. 

The leading trafficker fired his blaster, that lazy demeanour he’d held so proudly was long gone now. The tell-tale ‘ping’ of shots deflecting across beskar plates told you exactly how this fight would end. You could only pray that you wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire. 

The night was lit bright with the flashing red blaster fire, screams of traffickers resounded across the dunes and the racing beat of your own heart flooded your senses.

The Beast moved like a ghoul, there one moment and gone the next. His speed was inhuman and his strength was something of a myth, snapping a blaster in two with a quick twist of his hands. 

You hadn’t realized you were crying until the salt stung the abrasions on your cheeks. 

From enemy to enemy, the Beast appeared and then disappeared until only one was left standing. The man who had approached you first, the one who had appraised you and with a smug grin held a blaster to your quivering body.

The trafficker fell to his hands and knees as the Beskar Beast spawned from the darkness behind him. A plated foot pressed against the back of the man’s neck, pushing his face into the sand painfully slowly. Horror flooded your being when you realized what he was doing.

You closed your eyes, stifling your sobs and trying to ignore the muffled screams as the Beast suffocated your would-be kidnapper in the sand. 

When all fell silent, you dared not raise your head. 

The Beast had come all this way for you, he had killed these men to secure his prey and now it was your turn to answer to the predator before you. He was going to kill you with his drive still triggered and blood on his hands.

“Please,” you whimpered, forehead pressed against the sand the same way it had been in the town square. Bowing before the unofficial King of Nevarro, pressed into the ground and begging for his mercy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, please-” 

You were forced upright, your pleading interrupted as you flinched away from the creature that held you.

He wasn’t even going to waste his time listening to your cries for forgiveness, the Beast had had enough of you. His fingers gripped you tighter, restraining any inch of movement.

“Are you hurt?” 

The question was rough and manic, almost a demand. You gaped at him, your eyes scouring the visor inches from your face. He shook you as if trying to rattle an answer from your mouth. 

“Answer me!” 

You shook your head quickly, “no! No, I’m not hurt.” 

“Good,” he rasped. Then, again but quieter, “good.” 

The Beast’s grip loosened on your biceps and his shoulders heaved with relief. You took a second to acknowledge the position he was in, on his knees. 

His head bowed as his hands slid along the length of your arms to rest on your wrists and you could do nothing but gape at him. Heat flushed across your chest and a cold sweat broke out on your forehead when the creature said nothing further. 

You both stayed like that for a long moment before you found the courage to speak. 

“What…” you cleared your throat, your mouth suddenly dry. “What are you going to do?” 

Would he punish you? Would he take you back with him and act as if nothing happened? As the adrenaline settled in your system, questions flooded in its stead. But the Beast only hummed distractedly in response and you frowned.

You leaned backward slightly, evaluating the slumped figure before you. 

Something wasn’t right. 

“Are you okay?” You whispered, half expecting his gaze to snap upward and for him to remember his anger. However, the Mandalorian only gave another hum, quieter this time, as his head dipped lower. 

You pulled one of your hands from beneath his limp grip and reached for the space between his pauldron and neck. You grit your teeth, gathering all the courage you could muster as you laid your fingers against the fabric bundled against his body. 

It was wet. 

You snatched your hand back with a gasp, inspecting your palm. It was slick with red, soaked in his blood. The Beast was hurt.

And as he fell forward into the crook of your neck with not a sound to be made, you realised the opportunity you’d been given. 

You could be free. The whole of Nevarro would be free. 

You jumped to your feet, letting the creature crumple onto the sand without a second thought. Excitement flooded your system as your mind raced with the implications.

No woman would ever have to die at the hands of this Beast ever again, your sister would be safe, and you could go back and open your own shop. You’d be free to be the best mechanic this sector would have to offer. You’d sponsor your own racing team, you’d build the fastest speeders and ships and you’d never have to worry about another fucking Biennal draw ever again. 

You could break the cycle. 

You ripped the EMP spike out from where it had wedged itself, jittering as you shakily flicked over the isolator switch and primed the engine. The speeder bike roared to life and you could have screamed with happiness. 

Your excitement faltered as you peered at the Beast’s collapsed figure. 

You assumed he was unconscious when he said nothing, not while you prepared to leave him to die in the dunes and not when you mounted the speeder. Your fingers froze on the handle, unable to force it backward, unable to send yourself towards freedom. 

He’d asked if you were hurt. 

He hadn’t attacked you, he hadn’t used the last of his energy to punish you; instead, the Beast had desperately needed to know if you were hurt. He’d needed you to be safe. 

Right there, on the dunes painted red with the blood of his victims, you realized that the Beast cared. 

He was cursed, not evil. He’d never gone out of his way to hurt you, he’d never let you suffer needlessly and he’d offered his entire castle to you with the frail hope that it would distract you from the reality of it all. He left his life in your hands, knowing that you would leave him to die because, perhaps, he wanted it to end as much as you did. 

You threw your head back and let loose a despaired scream, the one that had been bottled deep in your chest for days now. You screamed and screamed until your voice was hoarse, smashing your fists against the seat of the speeder. 

Then, you grit your teeth and got off the bike. 

____

The sound of the fire crackling filled the room, drowning out the silence with pretty white noise. You were leaning against the doorway, watching the back of Beast’s head as he rested in a chair before the flames. He wasn’t asleep, you could tell by the occasional groan of discomfort. 

The vulnerability made him seem so much more human, and although you reminded yourself that he was anything but, you couldn’t help that your guard had lowered. 

“Usually, I’m the one that lurks in shadowy doorways.” 

You raised an eyebrow, unsure why you were surprised that he knew you were there. Of course, he’d known. 

“Judging by your calmness, I’d say you’re probably better at it,” you shrugged, pushing off of the frame. The Beast snorted softly but didn’t turn around to look at you, eyes remaining on the dancing flames before him. 

“Yeah,” he agreed softly. “Probably.” 

You slowly rounded the chair, spotting the unopened first aid kit on the floor. The man’s gaze tracked your movements as you came into his line of sight. He watched as you picked up the first aid kit, watched as you opened it and watched as you finally brought your eyes up to meet his. 

He just loved to watch you. As though he’d never witnessed anything like you before. Like it was his first time seeing a human in centuries, every single time. 

He wore an oversized shirt, the neckline large enough to expose the entirety of that gaping, bloody wound. 

“Hold still,” you murmured, waving a sanitizing pad. You needed to clean the wound before treating it and by the way the Mandalorian’s lips pressed together, you assumed he wasn’t used to prolonged injuries. 

You pressed the pad against the wound and he flinched away from your touch with a hiss, crimson eyes hard as they glared at you from beneath his lashes. 

“Gentle!” He growled, strained. You frowned at him, leaning back lightly. 

“You know,” you drawled, “If you’d hold still it wouldn’t hurt as much.” 

The Beast opened an eye to peer at you in disbelief before straightening up fully. “You ran away. You don’t get to lecture.” 

The nerve. 

You scoffed, throwing the sanitizing pad onto the kit in order to cross your arms over your chest. “You told me to.”

“I told you to get out of the room, not steal a speeder and find a group of traffickers halfway across Navarro,” he snapped, reaching for the sanitizing pad. “I’ll do it myself.” 

“I thought you were going to kill me, I was fucking scared. Of course, I took ‘get out’ as an invitation to run.” You snatched the pad back from his hands and the Beast stared at you tight-lipped for a long moment. You pulled the shirt from his neck and gave him a meaningful glare, silently reminding him to stay still as you attempted to treat the wound again. 

This time, he obeyed, remaining stock still with nothing more than a light hiss. 

As you reached for some gauze and bacta spray, the Beast observed you in the firelight. 

“You saved my life.” The words were barely a whisper but his gaze was intense.

You swallowed heavily, busying yourself with spreading the bacta onto the wound and then the gauze. You didn’t respond for a long moment and you thought that maybe you wouldn’t, maybe there weren’t any words for you to explain why you had done it. 

But you realized it wasn’t a question, he’d simply stated what you’d done. 

“Well,” you said shakily, clearing your throat. “You saved mine first. It was only fair.” 

The Beast snorted softly. “No, it wasn’t.” 

You agreed quietly. No, it wasn’t. But you weren’t going to say that out loud, not when he stared into the fire like he wished he could burn with it. Not when he was so vulnerable beneath your hands. 

Instead, you held the bandages up within his vision. “Do you need this or will you heal?” 

The Beast’s gaze flickered from the dressing in your hand to your eyes and then back to the fire. You watched his fingers curl until his hands were balled into fists in his lap. 

“I’ll need them until I can… feed,” he spat the word and you wondered if that was how he’d always spoken but you were just too blind with fear to have seen it. Shakily, you lowered the bandage back into the box. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, couldn’t force the question from your lips. Your heart had softened to the Mandalorian before you but your mind still couldn’t comprehend what you really were to him. Sustenance. Energy. Life. 

The Beast studied your face as you simply watched him, attempting to decipher what your stare meant. 

Finally, the corner of his mouth lifted to flash his fangs almost playfully. “You offering?” 

Your heart thrummed in your chest and when you said nothing, his smile dropped. Without a word, you unbuttoned the top of your jumpsuit and pulled the collar from your neck, gritting your teeth and clenching your fists. 

The Beast’s fingers found your own and you flinched lightly, forcing yourself not to recoil completely. Your eyes were glued to the wound, reminding yourself that you had inherently caused it, and you were simply fixing it out of goodwill. 

But the terror churning in your chest would not subside and you bit your tongue as the Beast slowly guided you closer until you stood between his knees.

“Verd’ika,” the Beast sighed, slowly doing back up the buttons of your clothes. Your breath was a shudder as you watched him with wide eyes and your hands rested gingerly against his arms to steady yourself as he worked. As he rearranged your collar, he shot you a wistful quirk of his lips. “You’ve been through enough for one day.” 

Before you could stop yourself you whispered a “thank you” but the sentence went unfinished. 

You didn’t know his name and calling him ‘Beast’ seemed almost inappropriate. It had gotten under his skin the last time you had spoken to him and you’d only ever referred to him as ‘the monster’ or ‘the creature’ in your mind. 

The Beast blinked slowly, as though reminding himself to do it under your watchful gaze. So human in appearance but so obviously different, this man was an enigma. He felt the emptiness of your sentence, he knew what you were musing over. But offering this part of him would change everything and he knew that as well as you did. 

“Do you want to know my name?” The Beast asked softly, almost vulnerable as he offered you the chance to decline. He would let you continue to dehumanize him if it made this easier for you and you could tell that he wouldn’t hold that choice against you. 

But, instead, you nodded and the Beast’s gaze softened. 

“My name is Din,” he whispered. “Din Djarin.” 

______

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Belle and The Beasts Castle