#queen of answering a question with a question

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 28/09✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: I am going to ask you to make a difficult decision… freenoodles or Shadowpeach

(Freenoodles, in my opinion, is just barely better than shadowpeach. Just because of how gay they are in season five. I mean, look at them and tell me they aren’t married.)

Sooo I go with shadowpeach. Freenoodle is like my comfort shit. so many cute and funny shenanigans, for me they are just the married couple who would probably have the healtiest of the relationship. They have teh experience, they went already throught all the "obliviouss-ness" and the "what if they don't love me" yadda yadda.

But Shadowpeach. Ow man. I thought the ineffable housband ship was complex. but god. oh god. how wrong I was. like- these two went from friends, to brothers, to lovers, to enemies, to friends again and to be lover again. They fucked up so much nothing will ever be the same. But they still weak for each other. They are at each other throat and also they know the other in the most intimate way. they are immortal. One of them fucking killed the other. They thought the other left them and betrayed and went both drama to forget (one choose found family, the other murder but anyway-)

Like- WHAT SHIP CAN BE MORE COMPLEX THAN THIS?????

Anonimo ha chiesto: Does MK have a favorite between his bio parents

oUH NO POOR MONKEYS. He doesn't, but he has a favourite depending on the context. Like, for training he prefers Macaque because he explains a lot better than Wukong, but sparring with Wukong is much funnier, but he prefers Macaque scratches and grooming, but he loves Wukong squeezing hugs, etc...

Anonimo ha chiesto: You know, I just realized something. So you know how people in the fandom give Macaque lotus nicknames since his ears kind of resemble lotus flowers. Well since MK has both Wukong and Macaque's ears that kind of makes MK's ears resemble Peace Lilies (which is kind of ironic since MK is the Harbinger of Chaos)

Aww I guess they do look like them!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I may sound a little to mean but Mk din't suspect a thing aout macaques eye? he has multiple forms were his eye is a cross i mean, i would think smt happend to that eye but that just me uu I LOVE UR ART IT MAKES ME WANT TO KMS /POS

He surely suspected something happened to Mac eye but he didn't know how that happened.

@queen-of-purple-roses ha chiesto: I have a question and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t have too; since we’ve seen Macaque feel guilty with how he treated MK in the past, does Monkey King feel guilty about all the dangerous moments that MK was put in, since most if not all of the fighting ends up on MK’s plate and not Wukong’s.

Oh absolutely, the more time passes he feels more and more guilty.

@catbox730 ha chiesto: Can we get more MK and Red Son please

mayyyyyybe. If you guys behave

Anonimo ha chiesto: It would be funny seeing MK‘s dads going to a doctor with him for like getting his wisdom teeth removed or something xD

The parents being extremely worried that something will go wrong while MK is super chill. When the dentist comes out of the operating room they grab him and ask him if he survived while MK is just eating ice cream post-surgery.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will MK ever fight against one of his parents in a serious battle ? Or be forced to fight one of them ?

mmm. Probably. Maybe in the future they have a discussion. Nothing maybe too serious. But not in the AU plans.

What is Wukongs and/or Macaques biggest nightmare(s) I imagine it would be something like seeing MK die or sacrificing himself again or something like that

I think Wukong is more terrified of being alone. So actually I think it would be worse for him that MK doesn't want to see him anymore.

Anonimo ha chiesto: so who is going to be MK‘s hero that he worships ? I don’t know if he still sees Monkey king in that way after finding out that he is basically his dad and hearing the past the fight with Macaque….

Maybe he wont have any hero. Maybe worshipping someone is not such a healthy thing to do. ( I'm not talking in a religious way of course, I meant worshipping a living normal person)

@emmais333 ha chiesto: Love your MK art. One question how many fights from Wukong and Mac does MK overhear on accident

He heard the first one (and the past one through the vision) then Wkong and Mac started to teleport far away enough so he wont be able to hear them discuss.

Anonimo ha chiesto: What if MK catches Mac and Wukong in the act, not visually, but audibly, like hearing it when going to flower feuit mountain, finding the monkeys in a pile, all traumatized. Or is it too soon? Do they get drunk enough to not care? Do they even drink?

in the....act? (sorry I don't understand stuff if it's not explicited said, like I can't understand double meanings if that was what you meant)

Anonimo ha chiesto: I LOVE YOUR STORY, REALLY!!!! I reread a lot. So lovely. And the Baby MK, I just want to hug so badly 🥺 ( I think Macaque become Protecting mode and he won't let me do it. ) You draw Baby MK so so so cute. My heart can't handle it.❤️ Maybe it's a terrifying idea but I would like know your thoughts. I think that Macaque sleeps very quietly, like a man in a coffin.  + Macaque fell into a very deep DEEP sleep. (maybe because he was tired from fighting demons to protect Baby MK or get injured or something?) = How do you think Sun Wokung will react?

o my god NO DON'T GIVE HIM AN HEARTH ATTACK (heloses one of their immortalities for having the most horrrendous of jumpscares)

@raspberrymixin ha chiesto: AHHH I LOVE YOU SHADOW PEACH BIO AU OMG ITS TO FREAKEN CUTEEEE AAHH I just melt into a puddle! Love you art and make sure to take breaks- anyway- I find it cute how redson interacts with MK I can just imagine him giving him stuff and little gifts and Mk just confused on why but takes it anyway because of friendship and maybe a sign he's trusting more- but MK is just oblivious to the courting- And maybe redson would ask Wukong, Macaque, Tang or pigsy to allow it maybe? And I also love the slow burn! It's just cute on how Macaque and Wukong make each other blush! Awww it's just to cute! I hope you're doing amazing and have a good night/day

Oh man MK would not be able to read a single clue and just think it's a symbol of friendship or wathever. O my god he really did take from his parents (all of them)

fayeangel25 ha chiesto: YOUUU UFUFFHH WHEN I GET YOUUUUU anyways, I wanna see wukong asking macaque about the story of him and mac ( after mamacaque storytelled his lil baby mk ) , cuz i wanna see more flustered macaque!!! Also, 👏 EATING 👏 THIS 👏 AU 👏 UP!!

Hehe he would be a little shy about it. But Macaque is a theater kid so for a bigger audience I guess he would do it.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like I’m new here. What is Court napping?

Consensual Kidnapping with the intend of flirting with another demon.

Anonimo ha chiesto: How many people want to court MK now that he is a real stone monkey AND the son of Wukong and Macaque ?

mmm. Only people close to MK knows that he's the bio kid of shadowpeach. So for now only Red Son

Anonimo ha chiesto: I bet PIF would try to wait for MK to lose the good guy ‘phase’ since she went through that before lmao (forget being good, convert to villainy in the name of love)

Awwww she would!!! But MK is just too good hearted to hurt a fly. (yeah I know he technically has a kill count still-)

Anonimo ha chiesto: MK would obviously call Pigsy "Papa" so what would MK call Tang and Sandy?

I think he would actually call Pigsy "dad" since it's what he calls him that in the show. Maybe it's Tang that gets to be called Papa. I think Sandy is more like an uncle.

@mage-of-words ha chiesto: When will Wukong purpose to Macaque?

WOW- HOLD ON THERE. LET HIM TAKE HIM TO DINNER FIRST.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Omg I wonder if Macaque and Monkey King ever saw MK get really hurt during a battle with a new demon. RIP the Demon bc two feral Monkeys are after them now bc they hurt their kid.

Them to said demon: So you have choosen.... death.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hear me out, Mac and Wukong in a get along shirt for a day (lost a bet to MK and he planned this too) LOVE YOUR ART TOO ITS SO SCRUMDIDDLYUMPTIOUCIOUS

this is an old ask, sorry for taking so long to answer. But I would say that at this point of the story Wukong would probably be at cloud 9 being squished to super soft macaque all day. Macaque would be like a kitten undecided on wheter he loves or hate the situation (doesn't really likes un-warned physical touch.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hoi there, I found you again! (Following you on Insta as well because your art is awesome ^^)

Reading your LMK ShadowPeaches comics and they are fun. And now my brain can't help but make up scenarios, one like this one. Oh my, MK is a cute little baby! (^///^) Oh my, MK is a little baby!! ('O_O) Welp, Pigsy is going to kill someone unless Wukong gives baby MK into his arms to calm down and be busy being a dad than a raging Hulk. (:P) Also, I imagine MK accidentally shrinking himself, (Wukong decided to play hide and seek with it only to later on regret it). Wukong would freaking out about it, and Macaque then shook him violently while yelling into his face for losing MK. Then out of Nowhere, Nezha shows up at the door frame and be like 'Um, hey guys. Is this yours?' Points at his nose where tiny baby bean MK was, clinging onto Nezha's nose while giggling.

askjajvbks that's a lovely scene! Unfortunately Nehza can't know yet about MK, but maybe he will...

@lara-legomonkiekid 💜:Hey! I'm here to ask permission!Can I make an art Drawing of your Bio parents AU Meeting One of my AU's?Please?(Mostly Suposed to be Meeting One of my OC's!) (Love Your Art and Comics!!!!)(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Yeah sure! just be sure to tag me and link the masterpost of the AU

Anonimo ha chiesto: I find it funny how your shadowpeach bio au came from a joke and now.....wow Your art is amazing

My friend even tried to warn me. BUT I DIDN'T LISTEN

Anonimo ha chiesto: I need Freenoodles talking late at night about MK's new situation Will they be worried? Happy? I don't think Pigsy will take it very well that just when he and MK accepted each other as Father and Son, he is (partly) taken away by his biological dads.

Pigsy was mostly worried that Wukong or Macaque would hurt in any way MK. Both ahim and Tang after they saw how much the 2 care about MK calmed down, still they just hope they don't mess up things.

Anonimo ha chiesto: parenting it not just about having fun with your children, but also making sure there are boundaries even if the child isn’t happy about it. So, how would it go if Macaque and Wukong would try to ground MK 😂

MK is a little old for being grounded I think but if they were to do it maybe with something like no training for a week or smt. He's still an adult (i know we sometimes forget)

Anonimo ha chiesto: MK trying to prank his parents and wake them up with a loud instrument or sound. MK forgetting he has sensitive hearing 💀

reverso uno card

Anonimo ha chiesto: Would wukong or MK help macaque in his drawings if he asked 🙃 or if they tried to help him improve

Awww they would!!! Actually what if this creative side of him was something he kind of inherted from Wukong?

[entitled-fangirl]

I can't promise that.

Jace Velaryon x wife!reader

Summary: Jace returns from the Wall, mourning the death of his brother. The reader comforts him in the dead of night.

Warnings: talks of death, mourning, making out, talks of sex, just sad Jace angst

A/n: If I had a nickel for every time I made a Jace fic, and it was an angst, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice. I need happy Jace prompts 😭

Masterlist

.........................................

Jace's back was to her, but even from there, it was clear something was wrong.

She stepped into the dark beside him and set the candle on the sturdy railing. "My love?"

He finally turned to face her. His eyes were puffy, cheeks red, and hot tears were falling down his face.

She cooed, "Oh, Jace." She rushed to him and took his face in her hands. 

His hands gripped her waist, afraid she'd disappear if he let go. She was almost worried there would be bruises. 

Her stomach dropped at the sound of his light sobs. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she wiped his tears. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll kill him," he muttered through the sniffles.

"Jace, I know you're upset-"

"-Do you expect me to sit here and allow him to get away with this?" He pulled away from her as pure anger came through his voice. "He's killed my brother. He's killed the son of the Queen, the heir to Driftmark!" He began to pace back and forth, the tears still falling. "I vow to kill Aemond Targaryen."

"Don't vow things while you are upset."

"I'm not upset! I'm enraged, wife!" He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to sigh out his frustration. "And you? You seem just fine!"

She let out a breath and gripped the railing. She forced her voice to stay calm. "Jace. You must understand that I've had more time to process this. I am just as horrified as you, I promise."

Jace's breath became shaky as he tried to control his anger. His jaw clenched harshly. He refused to speak, knowing that doing so would only worsen things. 

"I understand your grief, Jace, but you cannot let it cloud your judgment. To want revenge is to start the war your mother is trying to avoid."

"They began it," he sobbed. "If we do nothing then my brother died in vain! Does that mean nothing to you?"

Her eyes softened. "My love…"

"I cannot bear this."

She reached out and caressed his cheek again. "This will pass. You must not let the loss of Luke toil over the brothers you still have left."

He leaned into her palm as he considered her words.

Finally, he collected himself, pulling away and wiping at his face harshly. "Forgive me. For losing my temper with you."

Her brows furrowed at the force he wiped his face with. "It's quite reasonable to be upset. I just don't want you to do something you will regret." 

When he continued to sniffle and wipe at his face, she pulled his hands away. "Perhaps we should take this inside?" She offered.

He nodded and took her hand, grabbing the candle with the other and pulling her inside. Seated on the foot of the bed, he watched her wet a cloth from the tub where she had bathed only hours before.

She stood between his legs and pulled his face up, beginning to gently wipe the cloth over his puffy cheeks, cleaning them of his tears.

He only stared at her, his eyes roaming over her beautiful face studying him. "Promise me something?"

She hummed lightly in question.

"You'll not fight this war."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he beat her to it. "I could not bear to be on that bannister again in the night crying over you. I…" he voice faltered. "I cannot take another loss. Not you."

"I intend to do what the queen needs, Jace," she answered softly.

"What about what your future king needs?" He countered desperately as he gripped her wrist.

Her eyes met his. She was beginning to break down. "You know I can't…"

"Please."

She turned her head away from him, a shaky breath leaving her lips.

"I've always said I'd do anything for you. And you know I will," Jace pushed. His eyes watered again with fresh tears and his voice shook, "Can you not do so for me?"

She opened her mouth and closed it again, finding no words that would suffice. She began to gently wipe at his face again, dragging it down his neck.

"Please, speak," he begged.

She fought the lump in her throat. "You know what I'll say."

He sniffled and nodded, "Then make me a different promise?"

"If I can."

He bit the inside of his cheek. "That if you must fight in this war, it will be by my side."

She smiled, and a small laugh of relief came from her. "That's the most foolish thing you've asked of me, husband. You know that answer as well."

The tension left his shoulders and he flashed that grin that she loves so much. "I suppose it was. Still," he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to him, "I'd like to hear you say it aloud."

She looked down at him, abandoning the cloth and cradling his head in her hands as she spoke, "Jacaerys Velayron, whether I become your queen or I die at the hands of a usurper, I am yours, body and soul, and I will fight for you and with you until my fate is decided."

His thumb rubbed a soothing pattern on her hip bone. "I am yours until my body is buried in the ground with my ancestors. And even beyond then." He smirked, "And there will forever be one woman destined to be mine, I know that quite well. So I either have you as my queen, or we die together as one."

She leaned down and kissed him deeply.

He immediately groaned into her mouth and stood up, his hands pulling and tugging at her waist and lower back as if he could pull her closer.

As if everything else they could've said is shown through their actions.

His hands finally reached up her back to pull at the laces of her dress. His fingers tugged gently.

"J…Jace," she panted as their lips barely parted. "Jace…"

His lips moved down her jaw in fervent kisses, nipping and sucking lightly.

"St…" She gasped when he reached a particularly sensitive spot on her collarbone. Her hands moved to his hair and pulled him away, "Jace, stop."

The word "stop" pulled him from his trance, and he immediately moved away from her. His eyes were wide in worry, "What's wrong?"

"Not tonight," she reasoned. "We shouldn't."

"Why?" He asked softly.

"We're both upset. We may make a mistake if we're not careful."

He hummed, "Loving you is no mistake."

"Jace…"

"I understand," he nodded, keeping disappointment from coming over his face. "Perhaps when our judgment returns?"

She nodded and gazed down at his lips. "I'd like that."

He grinned. "Alright." He stepped closer to her again. "Let us get to bed again."

She intwined her fingers with his and pulled him around the bed, the two settling in as they always do. 

"I miss you greatly, you know," she whispered against his neck as they held each other close. "Dragonstone was rather lonesome without a certain curly-haired prince to keep it company."

"The Wall was even colder than I thought it would be. And I saw snow. Felt it beneath my feet as it chilled me to the bone. And all the while, I thought of you."

 She nuzzled her nose to his jaw, making shivers run down his spine.

She sighed, "We'll make it, won't we? Through this war?"

"I shall pray so to any god that will listen."

She laughed, "I don't believe that's how it works." Her lips brushed up to his jaw.

A bright teasing smile came over him, "I have Targaryen blood, my love. Perhaps we are the gods."

"You surely are mine."

................................................

[astra-ravana]

Cartomancy

A tarot styled divination method using standard playing cards. This oracle first appeared in Europe in the 14th century and is still used sporadically today. Practitioners of this divination are commonly called cartomancers. Cards can be laid in a variety of spreads and functions much like a tarot deck. As such, cartomancy decks should be designated and regarded with all the respect of a deck of tarot cards. The meanings of the cards are as follows:

Hearts

• Ace: Love, beginning, happiness, friendship

• King: Fair-haired man, affectionate and generous, but impetuous

• Queen: Fair-haired woman, trustworthy

• Jack: Fair-haired young person, good friend

• 10: Good fortune, joy

• 9: Desires fulfilled

• 8: Invitations/partings

• 7: Someone unreliable

• 6: Unexpected good fortune, generosity

• 5: Jealousy, indecision

• 4: Changes, travel

• 3: Need for caution

• 2: Friendship, success

Clubs

• Ace: Harmony, property, achievement, love

• King: Dark-haired man, honest, open

• Queen: Dark-haired woman, strong, helpful

• Jack: Reliable friend

• 10: Fortune, abundance

• 9: New romance

• 8: Opposition, danger of recklessness

• 7: Prosperity, potential romantic interference

• 6: Business success

• 5: Help from a friend/partner

• 4: Bad change of fortune

• 3: Good partnership

• 2: Disappointment and opposition

Diamonds

• Ace: Money, a ring

• King: Fair-haired man, stubborn

• Queen: Fair-haired woman, flirty, witty

• Jack: A relative, unreliable

• 10: Journey, wealth

• 9: Financial opportunity, surprises

• 8: Declarations of love

• 7: A gift

• 6: Reconciliation

• 5: Successful meeting

• 4: Change for the better, an inheritance

• 3: Domestic/legal battles

• 2: Important love affair

Spades

• Ace: Conflict, infidelity, stress

• King: Dark-haired man, successful, ambitious

• Queen: Dark-haired woman, seductive

• Jack: Dark-haired youth, well meaning

• 10: Grief, despair, imprisonment

• 9: Bad luck, delays, quarrels

• 8: Disappointment

• 7: Possible loss of friendship

• 6: Improvements

• 5: Anxiety, setbacks, interference

• 4: Jealousy, business troubles

• 3: Bitter parting

• 2: Scandal, gossip, deceit

Note: You may choose to include the joker to represent folly, new beginnings, the Universe and to also signify the person receiving the reading.

Bonus: Using Playing Cards to Detect Baneful Magick

This technique relies on reading either red or black cards and nothing else. It can technically be used to answer any yes/no question.

Shuffle the deck and ask, "have I been hexed or cursed?" -while you are shuffling. When ready, stop shuffling and deal out five cards in a row, face down. Then one by one, left to right, turn them over. Black indicates a 'no' response, while red indicates 'yes'. You can see the degree of the curse by the presence of red cards. All black is a clear 'no' and all red is a clear 'yes'. The spread can be read as follows:

5 Black - 0 Red: No curse or negative energy present

4 Black - 1 Red: Blip of dark energy, natural defenses can ward it off

3 Black - 2 Red: Dark energy present, possible jinx

2 Black - 3 Red: Sufficient dark energy, possible hex, cleanse immediately

1 Black - 4 Red: Significant harmful magick present, likely hex or curse. Do a purification/protection ritual

0 Black - 5 Red: Curse confirmed, take serious action to uncross/cleanse/protect. Someone has intentionally tried to harm you with magick.

[doitforbangchan]

Ever Lovely - 3

Pairing~ Fae Prince!Bangchan x reader (afab/fem) x Fae Prince!Lee Know

Warnings~ Angst, cursing, panic attack, fainting, insanity (reader feels crazy)

WC~ 6.8k

Masterlist // series masterlist

previous ~ next

The far away look in your eyes did not go unnoticed by the staff the next morning, nor did the dark circles under your eyes due to exhaustion. As they dressed you for the day your normally vibrant demeanor seemed to be dimmed as you did not even protest when they pulled you out of bed like you normally do, and you did not pout at the dawning of your corset as they expected you too. It was honestly a little concerning to the maids. Especially to Mara. 

You had gotten little to no sleep the night prior. Over and over your mind replayed the events you had experienced. From leaving the castle, to meeting Chris and Minho, to following them home and finally to them. 

A part of you thought it might have all been a nightmare; that you had never left at all and everything you had been through was a figment of your imagination. But you knew in your gut it was real. That you really had met faeries and visited an otherworldly realm beyond your wildest imagination. Both the wonder and terror you had experienced could not have been made up in your head, as you still felt them even now. 

So many questions still rattled around in your head. You wanted to know more about them and their court. You wanted to know how they all came together. And you wanted to know why they valued human life so little. As much as you craved to return to them and demand more answers you also knew that beings that clearly only believed mortals to be nothing but toys for their entertainment were nothing but trouble for you. You would be a fool to put yourself in such a dangerous situation for a second time. 

But 

There was also a realization that that was probably the most thrilling thing you will have ever done in your life. Nothing would ever compare to the astonishment of the Court of Stars and that sat heavy in your chest. 

“My dear, what troubles have you plagued? You have hardly uttered a sound this morning.” Mara's question brought you out of your thoughts and back to reality. 

You blinked quickly as you tried to come up with an answer that would satisfy her. “My rest was uneasy last night. The stress of yesterday must have gotten too me worse than I thought.” 

She hummed, straightening out the poofs of your dress. “I will have the servants prepare some tea with your breakfast. You need to be awake and lively when you rendezvous with the Queens today for wedding preparations.” 

“Thank you, Mara. I would appreciate that greatly.” You said softly then a thought struck you; Mara had been the one to tell you stories about faeries when you were young- maybe she knew more information about them. The problem was getting that information out of her without her becoming suspicious. You cleared your throat lightly, “Mara, do you remember the stories you used to tell me when I was a child?”

“I have told you many tales, your highness. You will have to be specific.” She was behind you fixing your hair.

“The stories.. About faeries.” 

“Yes, I remember.” She answered, adjusting the pastel pink bow that rested in your hair and matched the color of your dress. 

“Well, do you happen to know anything else about them? The.. faeries, I mean.” 

Mara’s eyes instantly met yours in the mirror and her hands stopped moving. When she realized her reaction she cleared her throat and continued her task. “Now what makes you ask about a thing like that?” 

You tried a shrug in indifference, as if the inquiry held no weight. “ No reason in particular. Just thought maybe they would be good stories to pass on to my own children one day.” 

“Those were less of a fun story and more of a warning. Beings that are not to be trifled with.” She huffed. “Magical devils in disguise. It is better not to think of them at all.” 

‘Devils in disguise.’ Those words stuck with you the most. You remembered how different both Chris and Minho appeared when you arrived in the fae wilds- how they had changed out of their disguise and into their more bizarre forms. 

“But what if I find myself in a peculiar situation and the only thing that could save me is that knowledge?” 

Mara narrowed her eyes at yours, giving you a glance over with an etch of worry in her brows.”What situation would you find yourself in that this would be useful? Y/n, did something happen?” 

Shit. You should not have said that last question. 

“N-no. Of course not, Mara. What a silly question.” You deflected, using a hand to wave her off. 

“Y/n.” the elder woman's voice grew stern. “If something has happened you must tell me.” 

You wiped your sweating hands on your dress, hiding your nerves and playing it off. “Nothing has happened. I am simply curious.” 

She didn’t say anything for a moment and you thought that was going to be the end of the discussion, but before you could deflate in dejection she surprised you by speaking up. “I will not claim to be an expert, most of what I know comes from what my own father told me when I was a girl so take it all with a grain of salt.” 

You nodded, motioning for her to continue. 

She sighed wistfully and began her tale, “In the village where I grew up, a few miles outside of this very kingdom in a small woodland town, many rumors spread about tricksters that dwelled within the surrounding woods. Rumors of supernatural creatures that cared for nothing but their own enjoyment. Rumors of their cunning games and alluring charms. ” She breathed deeply before continuing. “ These creatures were known to us as Faeries or the fae folk. Our village had a specific set of rules regarding these tricksters. Do not ever enter the woods at night. If you are outside and see something strange, leave immediately. Fae are known to lure in victims with traps of enticement. Never invite one into your home lest you invoke nightmares and thievery. Faeries cannot lie, so they are very eloquent with their words and how they phrase things.” 

“If I were to ask one a question, would it answer me truthfully?” You asked. 

Mara shrugged, “Perhaps, though I would not count on it. They might try to get something from you in return. Never accept any offer they make you, magic always comes with a price and more likely than not it is a terrible price to pay. Do not celebrate with them. Do not show great emotion to a faerie either. I remember hearing of a young woman who was grieving the passing of her husband late one night outside by the wicker well, one moment she was there sobbing her heart out and the next she was gone- vanished without a trace.” 

Taken.. Like whoever fell victim to Seungmin and Jeongin. 

“These are the rules my father instilled in me, and his father before him. Each child of my village grew up knowing the terrors of what lurked beyond what our natural eyes could see.” Mara finished her task, coming around to the front of you now. “There we go, looking as polished as ever, your highness.” 

“Thank you Mara. And thank you for sharing with me the tales from your childhood.” You smiled weakly at her, putting your hand on her shoulder. Her words ran through you as you took them in. You had definitely broken many of these rules already and that alone made you incredibly uneasy. But at the same time you felt hopeful? Now that you know the rules of the fae, maybe you could use them to avoid trouble with them should you wish to return to them. 

“You’re welcome, but do not go sharing this with anyone else. I do not need anyone coming after my head for filling yours with strange ideas.” She huffed making you laugh. 

“I won’t tell a soul. I promise.” You made an ‘X’ over your heart. 

“Now you must hurry along, I am sure your guests are already waiting for you in the dining hall to commence preparations.” She patted your back and sent you to the door. But before you could leave the room she called out, “Wait, I almost forgot the most important rule regarding the fae.” You turned back to face her again. “Never, under any circumstance, fall in love with a faerie, they will never love you the same and it will always end in tragedy.” 

For a reason you can’t explain you felt your heart break ever so slightly at her warning. 

Dread did not even begin to describe the way Chris felt as he traveled to the Court of Wonder. For him it had been a week since Pricilla’s threat of war and as much as he did not wish to see her he knew he couldn’t put off the meeting any longer. The journey to the Court of Wonder was a long one, the two lands were separated by the vast seas of the Summer court and could only be traversed by boat. 

Chris always loved the sea. The dark inky depths reminded him of his own home, but instead of an endless void the water was teeming with life. When he was younger he spent hours upon hours exploring the Summer Courts many ecosystems with the sea always being his favorite. It was where he met Minho. 

The fae prince had paid a hefty amount of gold to a Kobold to ferry him across the water. The reptilian trickster tried to swindle him out of even more money but one look into the glimmering amethyst of Chris’s eyes made the little coward realize that Chris was a powerful being that should not be messed with, even a creature as stupid as a Kobold would not dare challenge the dark prince.

As he traveled Chris let his mind wander. He remembered the first time he met Minho on these very seas. 

The prince was young, only a few centuries old at that point, long before he had taken control over his court. Chris had once again ran away from his court in search of… well anything really. An escape from his reality. The pressures of princely responsibilities were weighing on him heavier than ever and it was becoming too much for the boy to accept. After yet another dispute with his mother he fled the court, venturing as far as he could until he entered the territory of the Summer Court and even then he did not stop. He went all the way to the water, standing upon a cliffside that overlooked a tropical archipelago. 

Chris had never seen anything like it before in his entire life, the vastness of the water rivaled that of the galaxies of his home. His purple eyes took in every detail; from the crashing waves to the shaking of spindly palm trees. But what really caught his attention was the large ship that was speeding over the waves, a large red sail swaying in the wind as it went. Pirates. The prince was giddy as he jumped down from the cliffside, aiming right for the vessel. 

He landed directly on his feet smack dab in the middle of the top deck, a bright smile on his face and an excited twitch in his fingers. Not even the shouts in concern from the crew could shake him. Or the sword that was suddenly being pointed right at his throat. 

A boy, younger than him but not by much, with catlike eyes and dark shaggy hair sneered at Chris as he held the sword to the prince's neck. “Who the fuck are you?” 

“Chris.” He was still smiling, clearly unfazed. 

“Well, ‘Chris’, what are you doing on our ship? Come to take our treasures?” The boy asked, taking in the boy's strange appearance. Chris did not look like any fae from the Summer court, he was much too pale. The boy still did not lower his weapon.

“Minho,” A voice called out, making the boy cast his gaze quickly at another man with fiery orange hair. This man was wearing a black tricorn hat that had a plume of red feathers sticking out. He seemed familiar to Chris but he couldn’t quite place why. “Mind your manners when you're around royalty.” 

“Royalty, huh? Doesn’t look like any royal I know.” Minho scoffed but slowly lowered his weapon nonetheless. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while, Chris. What brings you to my ship? Did you get tired of your pretty palace in the sky like I did with mine?” Ahh yes, now Chris remembered who this is- Prince Hongjoong of the Summer court. He hadn’t seen the orange haired boy in a long time, he had stopped attending the balls that the Court of Stars threw many years ago. Chris heard he had abandoned his crown and became estranged from his family. Chris was envious of him.

He offered a shrug, tilting his head back and forth, “Ah you know how it is, Hongjoong. Sometimes those gems are too heavy on one's head.” Chris used his thumb to motion to Minho, who still had his slitted pupils were still locked in on Chris. “Where did you find this rabid thing?” 

“You watch your mouth you assh-” 

“Ehh put the claws down kitty cat, it was a compliment. You need to be a little crazy to hang out with Hongjoong.” He winked cheekily at Minho, making him scowl even further but Chris also saw a light dusting of pink on the tips of his ears. 

“Minho is a soldier I plucked from the dessert militia. He’s got quite a sharp mind; great for battle strategy. You’d be impressed Chris.” Hongjoong smirked. 

“Won’t the Summer Court miss someone like that?” Chris asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Of course they will. But only the best get to join my crew.” Both boys chuckled while Minho just looked annoyed. “The offer extends to you as well Chris. I’d love to have you in my little band of misfits.” 

The offer weighed heavy on Chris’s shoulders. It was extremely tempting and something he had actually thought about in great detail. Ultimately he knew he couldn’t stay away forever. His court relied on him too much- his mother relied on him too much.

The rest was history. Whenever Chris felt the need to escape he would leave his court and head to the Summer Court, joining the pirate crew known as ‘Ateez’ as they traveled and becoming great friends with Minho. Such good friends that Minho left the crew and joined Chris in leading his court when his mother passed. 

It was a good memory, one that Chris cherished. Being back on these waters gave him a sense of calm he longed for, even though where he was headed was far from peaceful. 

Chris knew this bullshit threat was only to get his attention. Everything Pricilla did was to get his attention. 

He knew he never should have entertained her in the first place. He had let his cock think for him instead of his head one too many times and this was the consequence of his actions. Chris had hoped the psychotic queen would move on from her infatuation with him- it had been over five hundred years since he had indulged her- but it seems like his wishful thinking was just that; a wish. And unfortunately the prince cannot grant his own wishes, no matter how hard he tries. 

Chris let his eyes scour the water, looking for the divine secrets that lay below the crystalline waves. His pupils enlarged to encompass his whole eye as he focused, his sight enhancing significantly. Just as he had thought they were sailing over a colony of merfolk. He could see the massive reefs they build their homes out of. The fishlike humanoids were infamously elusive and great at remaining hidden so he wasn’t able to make out any of the creatures themselves much to his dismay. 

The fae prince sighed and returned his sight back to normal. Maybe one day he would send Jeongin down there to make contact. The Sea Foam court and the merfolk were known to have a cordial report and it certainly wouldn’t hurt to have another allied species in case something went south. Though a petty part of him did not want to ask the youngest boy for anything. He was still irate at Jeongin and Seungmin for ruining his time with you. 

Most of his thoughts lately were of you. His lost princess. He wondered what you were doing, if you were still upset with him and if he would ever see you again. The man still did not know what had made you so upset in the first place. He had not said anything that was not the truth but for some reason you took that as a personal dig. Minho had laid into him about having sensitivity for a weaker species that night when he returned. 

Chris hoped you were not still mad at him. For reasons he could not explain he felt an ache in his chest at the thought of you hating him forever. It shouldn’t matter. You were just a human after all. Your opinion of him shouldn’t bother him at all.

But it does. 

It bothers him beyond comprehension. He already thought the world of you- the runaway princess with a voice like pure silk and a body crafted by the goddess of sex herself. The moment he laid eyes on you he knew you were something special. So the fact that you seemed so.. Disgusted by what he said made him want to rip his curly hair from his head. 

The long ride finally came to an end as the boat entered the edge of the Court of Wonder. The kobold bowed to the prince when he exited the boat, throwing another gold piece to the small creature as he passed. 

The lands of the Court of Wonder were full of splendor. A land full of magical creatures and all things extraordinary. The pixie forests glowed with vibrant colors and the mountains shimmered with the pure gold they were made from. To anyone who had never been there before it would be captivating; to him though it was a shithole. 

Standing at the edge of the dock awaiting his arrival was a tall fae man; the man had vibrant orange skin that resembled dragon scales and he was wearing a long black cloak. Chris recognized him instantly. This was Jasper, one of Pricillas hounds. Seemed like she wanted to guarantee his arrival. 

The ‘hounds’ were Pricillas most precious possessions. They were a group of fae that hailed from the Court of Wonder, hand picked by the Queen herself to be on her guard. That in itself was all well and good- many fae folk had unique magical abilities that were useful to a court- but word in the rumor mill was that these were no ordinary fae; that they were genetically modified by Pricilla to be stronger, sharper, deadlier. No longer were they regular guards, now they were an elite team who did her bidding without question- no matter how sadistic or inhumane the request.

The aura that this man gave off was pure menace and if Chris was a weaker fae he might have even shuddered under his scrutinizing red eyes. 

But he was not a weaker fae. Chris had royal blood that granted him not only strength but powers of his court. The prince knew if it came down to it he could probably defeat Jasper one on one… but he also knew the ‘Hounds’ rarely ever traveled completely alone. He wouldn’t be able to fight off more than one at a time. 

At least not without the powers of the crown… 

The reptilian fae lowered himself slightly in a customary bow to the prince, though his eyes did not leave Chris’s for even a second. “Welcome to the Court of Wonder, Prince Chris. Your presence has been long awaited.” 

Chris huffed and wanted to roll his eyes. “Yes I am aware. Pricilla hasn’t stopped demanding my presence for a millennium.” 

Jasper seemed to ignore the comment, gesturing for Chris to follow him. The fae prince walked one step behind the other man in silence. It was uncomfortable to say the least. They walked for a few minutes until they came upon a glowing pillar that looked to be made of pure blue agate crystal. 

Jasper halted right in front of the pillar, then turned back to look at Chris. “Place your hand upon the crystal. And hold your breath.” 

Chris sighed then without hesitation stuck his palm directly to the pillar. The second his skin touched the cool gem his body was encapsulated in a beam of pure light. It was hot- burning, searingly hot and he felt his feet lift from the ground and his vision disappeared as all he could see was the blinding rainbow light. Then just as soon as it came, it was gone. 

His feet landed back on the ground and his sight cleared up. Just as he had suspected; the pillar was a teleportation crystal. They were pretty common in the larger courts, they made it easier to get around. His own court did not have any, so he wasn’t the most familiar. 

He now found himself standing in front of the huge castle that belonged to the aristocracy of the Court of Wonder. It was made of pure gold, a product of the mines that resided in the mountains, and was bigger than any other castle he had seen anywhere in the fae wilds. It was also surrounded in miles and miles of blooming flower fields, as far as the eye could see. The gardens were Pricillas pride and joy.

‘Of course she has to have the biggest and best of everything.’ He grumbled in his mind. 

Two guards clad in bronze armor opened the large wide set doors as he approached, offering him low bows as he passed him. God, he was so sick and tired of all the bowing. So tired of everyone knowing he was royal. If he wasn’t royal his life would have been simpler- he wouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit in this bullshit court. 

Chris strolled into the palace and through its glittering vast halls. He did not stop and entertain any of the servants that addressed him nor did he slow his steps until he entered the throne room in the center of the castle. 

When he entered the room he was met with the reason for his visit; Pricilla. The queen was lounging sideways on her plush throne, her feet hanging off the side and kicking back and forth in giddiness. Her horizontal pupils settled on him as he entered and her lips curled up into a wicked smile, her pearly white jagged teeth on display. 

“Well there he is, the man of the hour.” Pricilla waved her lithe fingers at him in a teasing manner. “So glad you finally decided to come visit me. It only took an active threat to your people to get you here.” She giggled maniacally as if she had said the funniest thing in the world. 

There was something..off about the Queen. Something different. Pricilla had always been a beautiful woman but now her normally vibrant yellow skin seemed to have lost a touch of its glittering luster, and her usually long flowing hair that was deep blue was cropped short to about her shoulders- but it was choppy and uneven as if she had cut it herself. Even her clothes looked askew. She had always cared too much about her appearance, so the fact that she looked so worn down had really thrown him off.  

“I am here. Just as you demanded. Now what do you want, Pricilla?” He asked, crossing his arms and getting right to the point. He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t miss me.” She laughed and lifted one side of her dress, showing off her thigh to him in an attempt at enticing him. When he didn’t react to her all Pricilla pouted, throwing her head back with a whine. “Come on Chrissy you can’t pretend forever.”

“And what exactly am I pretending to do, Pricilla?” 

“Acting like you don’t like me.” She huffed, “As if our time together meant nothing to you!” 

“It did mean nothing to me, Pricilla.” He glared at her, getting fed up with her already. “In fact it meant less than nothing.” 

Chris saw her grit her teeth, “Now you’re just being cruel to me.” 

“I am being cruel to you? No, what’s cruel is threatening a war all because you aren’t getting my attention. What's cruel is sending Changbin crashing down in a ball of fire after all he wanted to do was talk with you.” He clenched his fists at his side. 

The look on her face became confused, “Wait, who is Changbin, again?” 

Chris rubbed his face in frustration, “The one who came to see you last week… that you sent plummeting down in a cocoon of flames.. That put a giant hole in my courtyard. ” 

She snapped in recollection, “Ah yes spring court faerie with the pink hair! He was a cutie pie I must admit.” She snickered briefly then her face hardened again. “But he was not who I requested. I asked for you, Chrissy. And I won’t be ignored. Not by you or anyone.” 

“I am busy, Pricilla. I have a court to run. I would think you’d know a little about that seeing as you’re a ruler yourself.” 

She grinned at him again, “Ah but I am a Queen. You have been neglecting your court by dividing it in pieces instead of just dawning the crown yourself.” Her broken nails tapped on the twinkling sun emblem on the crown that was embedded in her skull. To wear the crown was to become the crown- there was no taking it off. “They need a proper ruler, Chris. A strong, handsome king. And they’ll need an equally strong Queen.” 

There it was. 

Chris rolled his eyes so far into the back of his head he could almost see his brain. “You have your own court, you do not need mine as well.” 

“But think about how incredible it could be if we were to join our two courts together! We would be unstoppable! And our children would grow up in the most magical place to ever exist! All you have to do is put on that ugly vine-y crown and your powers would allow you to-” 

“Pricilla that is enough!” Chris raised his voice at her for the first time, glaring at her as his eyes darkened until they were a deep almost black purple color. He could see how taken aback she looked at his outburst but he continued before she could speak again. “You never know when to fucking quit! I have told you over and over again that you and I are never going to be together. I fucked you one time, that’s it. Grow up and get the fuck over it.” 

“Chris, come on-” 

“No! You have disrespected me and my court for the last time with this bullshit! I will not stand for your insults to my family's legacy any longer. This ends here and now.” 

The prince expected her to cry and whine and beg like she always does, but instead he was met with her intense stare and complete silence from the seelie Queen. He had never seen her so silent and still before, as if she was made of stone. After what felt like eternity she seemed to snap back into reality. 

“Alright.” 

He raised a brow in confusion, “Alright? That’s all you have to say now?” 

“Yes.” She nodded slowly. Her face was neutral but Chris could see something wicked brewing behind her eyes. “I concede. I won’t pursue you any longer.” 

“And you’ll retract your threat of war among our courts?” He pressed. 

She nodded again, “Yes, there will be no war.” 

He cleared his throat, finding this went way too easily but not looking a gift horse in the mouth. “Excellent. I am glad we could put this to rest.” 

“Me as well. Maybe we can move past all of this and even become.. Friends?” She asked, tapping her nails on the side of her throne.

He didn’t know what game she was playing or what her intentions were, but he also knew it would be best to try and move on for the sake of peace. The wilds did not need a spat amongst royals. 

“Friends would be lovely.” He conceded. 

Pricilla clapped ecstatically and the shrill giggle made Chris’s ears hurt. “Perfect. Then I look forward to being the very best of friends. Don’t you, Chrissy?” 

He winced slightly, then cleared his throat and nodded. Better to agree with her and be done with it once and for all. “Of course. Now that we have put this mess behind us, and can move on-” 

“As friends,” She cut him off with a smirk. 

“Yes. As friends.” He continued, trying to hold in his agitation, “I will be taking my leave now. Take care of yourself, Pricilla.” He gave her a shallow bow of his head. 

The seelie woman waved her fingers at him, “Byyyyye Chrissy.” 

The prince turned on his heel and walked out of the throne room, then down the halls and out of the front door, not stopping until he was outside. Once he was outside he finally let out a frustrated breath. Chris was thrown off by how easy it was to come to an agreement with her. It felt wrong somehow. There had to be an ulterior motive- with her there always was- but he really did not want to dwell on it. For now ,at least, there would be peace and that was enough for him.

Now he wanted to get the hell out of this court. 

Your heart felt heavy as you walked down the halls. Mingyu had once again accompanied you down to breakfast this morning, you could tell the man wanted to say something about the distant look in your eyes but he did not. You thanked him for walking you and he bowed then opened the double doors leading to the dining room. 

Walking into the room you could see that only your mother and queen Jeonywon were seated at the table enjoying a few pastries. The other Queen was the first to notice you as you entered, “Ah Y/n dear, come join us. We were discussing the floral arrangements for the ceremony.” 

“Good morning Mother. Good morning, your majesty.” You greeted them both politely before you took your seat in front of the two women. 

“Yes yes, good morning, anyways Jeonywon I was thinking something classy,” Your mother began, barely paying you any mind like usual. “Perhaps camellias. The dark pink blush color would go quite heavenly with Y/n’s complexion.” 

“Hmm, that may be a nice choice. I suppose some babies breathe and some Cymbidium would do well as fillers…” 

You began to drown them out, not really caring much for the conversation since you knew you wouldn’t get a say in anything either way.. As if it wasn’t your wedding.. 

As tasty as you knew the food to be, you did not have much of an appetite so you only lightly picked at some fruit so as to not draw attention to you not eating. After managing to get down a single strawberry you went to take a drink of some water. You lifted your crystal glass up to your mouth and took a sip, but as you were lowering it back down you noticed a strange reflection in the glass, like someone was standing directly behind you. No, not just someone.. 

You could see a reflection of Minho staring back at you. 

A startled gasp escaped you and you whipped your head around to look behind you. There was no one there, only the servants who stood along the edge of the room. Nothing and no one out of the ordinary. ‘Was I just imagining it?’ You must have been, there was no way Minho was here. 

“Y/n, are you alright?” 

Dammit, you forgot about the other two women with you at the table. You nodded in response, “Yes, your majesty. My apologies for the outburst, I had a.. Tickle that startled me.” 

It was not a very good lie but it seemed to convince them both anyways. “Well finish up your breakfast dear, we have a meeting with the modiste shortly and we mustn't be late.” 

“A meeting with the modiste, mother?” You were slightly confused and unable to put the pieces together. 

“For your wedding gown. We only have a few days to prepare so every second counts.” 

You chewed on your bottom lip and lightly pushed your plate away from you, definitely not up to eating any longer. 

The three of you had loaded into the most pristine carriage that your family owned (your mother clearly wanted to show off our best assets to the other ruler), and you were on your way into the town. The carriage passed by the bustling streets filled with the common people going about their day. You could see people selling their wares in little stalls and a few working men on their way to work. Of course there were also a few people stopping to stare and point at the sight of the royal carriage being pulled by the pure white horses. 

You wished you were out there with them instead of stuck in this cramped compartment on your way to imminent doom. That’s how you felt, at least. Being here with these two chattering queens was almost like literal torture for you as they yammered on and on about what type of lace and stitching would be best for your dress.

Looking out into the crowds you noticed a few familiar faces; A woman named Kate who sold flowers was setting up her bouquets, a young man that you knew from the tavern was walking with a small child in his arms, and you even caught a glimpse of Vernon as he exited a shop. 

A flash of dark hair and pointed ears caught your attention. Standing there on the side of the road in the middle of the crowd was Minho. You leaned over towards the window of the carriage to get a better look, but just as quickly as you saw him he was gone, vanished without a trace as if he was never even there. Using your closed fist you rubbed your eyes and sat back into your seat once again. 

What is going on? Am I actually losing my mind?

Maybe you were losing your mind. Maybe everything you experienced, everything you saw was just insanity. It had to be- it didn’t seem plausible that you were the only one that could see them for what they were or could be the only one to see him now. That's what it was, you decided. Just insanity brought on by the stress of your arranged marriage. You would get through this next week and your premonitions would cease. There was no such thing as faeries. There was no Chris and Minho. 

Or.. 

They were toying with you. Perhaps they were using their tricks on you to make you think you’ve gone insane. If what Mara said was to be believed and true, then the otherworldly beings did not hold the same morals or ethics as most mortals do. Minho had said that humans only see what the fae wanted them too. So there was a very real possibility that all you were to them was a plaything.

You were not sure which option hurt you the most. 

Your panicked thoughts were interrupted by the sudden stop of the carriage. Glancing out the window again you saw you had made it to the modiste. You were so lost in your own mind after seeing Minho that you had completely blanked out the majority of the ride. 

A footsman opened the carriage door with a bow and held a hand out to help you out. With a hand on your hems to keep from tripping you were led out and into the store. 

A woman you had never met before greeted you all you entered. She clasped her hands out in front of her and offered a bow to the queen's first and then to you. “Welcome your majesties.  Welcome your highness. I am so grateful and pleased to have you in my shop.” 

You glanced around the shop, not seeing the elderly woman who usually attended to you when you visited. “Where is Dohee?” 

“Oh, Ms. Dohee was my teacher and after she felt I had completed my apprenticeship she retired and left the shop to me.” The girl blushed and tucked some hair behind her ear. She was pretty, you noticed, and seemed to be around your age. “My name is Lisa. It is my ultimate pleasure to make your acquaintance, your highness.” 

“It is nice to meet you as well.” You offered a shy smile. 

“Lisa,” Your mother began as she browsed the different racks of fabrics, “I trust you have something drawn up for us to see?” 

The girl nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, your majesty!” She pulled out a large sketchbook and flipped to the back of the pages and brought it over to you and the Queens. “I began to work something up the second I was informed of the engagement. I was up all night, actually.” 

Lisa presented you with a drawing of an elegant gown that had a tight fitted bodice and puffed sleeves. It was a nice drawing but it did not really feel like what you imagined your dress to look like. Before you could respond with those exact words your mother cut you off and snatched the book away from you. “Now this is just splendid! Exactly what I was thinking.” 

Lisa beamed and gave another small bow in gratitude. “I am so happy to hear that, your majesty does have fine taste indeed. And how about you, your highness?” She asked you. 

“Well actually perhaps we-” 

“She loves it.” Once again you couldn’t get your own words out. You begin to feel the tips of your ears heat up in frustration but you bite your tongue. “My daughter is an elegant girl and needs an elegant dress. Right, dear?” Your mother slightly narrowed her eyes at you with an unspoken threat to make you agree. 

You wrung your hands together and gave a tentative nod, “Yes, of course mother.” 

Queen Jeonywon took a look at the sketch next, “How beautiful! Kookie is just going to love this.” She nodded in approval then handed the sketchbook back to Lisa.

Lisa ushered you onto the pedestal and pulled out a few measuring tapes. You do not know why you were hopeful that maybe you would have gotten even a slight say in your dress, but it was very apparent to you as the two matriarchs droned on about what lace they think would be best and how long the train should be that this was not really your wedding; it was more for them than anything else. 

These last twenty four hours felt like a fever dream - and perhaps it still was, that notion was still up in the air for you-  but you just wanted it to end.You felt weak and powerless, not the glowing bride you wanted to be. A wedding was supposed to be a joyous occasion, one shared between lovers and friends. It was supposed to be about love, not whatever farce this was. 

An overwhelming bout of panic hit you like a train suddenly. This was all becoming too much for you to handle. Your chest was beginning to feel tight and you felt your breathing start picking up.  Shakily you lifted a hand and placed it on your heart in an attempt to quell its harsh beating. You vaguely recognized Lisa’s voice asking you to put your hand down so she can continue but her words went in one ear and out of the other. 

Blurry spots began to form in your vision and extreme dizziness made you stumble back. Your hand that was on your heart now has migrated up to your head. Your breathing got even more accelerated and you felt your lungs burn.

“Your highness, are you alright?” 

That was the last thing you heard before you went toppling down into darkness. 

as always comments and reblogs are encouraged and appreciated 💖 please share your thoughts i love to hear them

beta read by my loves @jehhskz and @athforskz 💜

©doitforbangchan 2024

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[caitchercatlady]

He'll Have to Go Through Me

-Heartslabyul Version

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is busy planning the next Unbirthday Party when he gets tired of seeing Ace and Deuce moping around the dorm. When he gets the "What's wrong with the both of you?" answer out of them, he's both confused and concerned about you refusing to visit the dorm as originally planned. This is indeed unusual.

He stops you out in the hall the next school day, hoping for answers. Riddle mentions how depressed your friends have been, praying that'll get you to say something. You finally reveal that. you can't go back to Heartslabyul because a second year student had been scaring you and stalking you when Ace and Deuce aren't looking. Riddle is not one to let an accusation like this go unchecked.

"Give me a day, and I will make Heartslabyul safe for you once more. Never fear, for I shall handle this the proper, Queen of Hearts manner."

The next day, as you are arriving to class, Ace and Deuce catch up to you in a better mood than they have been. Their snickering has you curious of what's going on. They tell you that Riddle would like you to come see him at Heartslabyul dorm after classes are over, for he has something important to discuss over tea. You're afraid, but you can't refuse Riddle's invitation unless you had a "valid" excuse.

After class, the boys take you to the dorm, and what washes over you is a strange sense of relaxing quiet. As you walk past the rose gardens, you see from the corner of your eye your bully with the recognizable heart-shaped collar around his neck, being watched over by a group of third years to paint every rose in the garden by hand, a painful chore experience. Once in front of Riddle, you notice he's giddier than usual. That's when everything clicks for you. Riddle tells you not to worry as the two week's worth of chores punishment should set your stalker bully on the straight and narrow. You can't thank Riddle enough for doing so.

Trey Clover

The Vice Housewarden knows a bully when he sees one, and with Riddle as Housewarden, he has been taught the tools on how to stop a bullying situation in its tracks. Trey notices that you're been less passionate about baking for the upcoming Unbirthday Party, and he presses why. You start to question if baking was really a fun activity or if it's just for "girls," and he pushes on where you got this idea from. You confess that a Diasomnia freshman saw you with the muffins that the two of you baked the other day and mocked you for it. You felt so bad that you were contemplating on quitting the hobby all together.

Trey tries to tell you not to give up hope. He'll see to it that there is worth in what you love to do after all. The next school day, you are in the cafeteria, studying and eating the leftover sweets you made at the same time. However, as you are about to indulge, trouble comes back a-knocking. The bully from Diasomnia crushes your sweets and starts bad mouthing until a certain Vice Housewarden comes from behind to stop the whole thing. Trey demands the bully to pay up for destroying the snacks they worked so hard to make. The bully snorts and guess that they cost like what...five thaumarks?

"Well, considering how much flour, milk, eggs, and sugar costs, our batch was worth 150. If we only account for the Prefect's batch, that'll be twenty. Considering how we get reimbursed by the dorm's treasury, either you drop the twenty thaumarks or you'll have to speak to Housewarden Riddle about repaying your debut. Which one is it?"

The bully quakes in his boot as he coughs up the twenty thaumarks from his wallet and leaves, swearing to leave you alone. You look at Trey and try to say that the cookies you guys made would never be so expensive. Trey smirks and tells you that you can buy whatever you want with your new twenty thaumarks instead. What a day, indeed!

Cater Diamond

MagiCam has not been an issue for you before since that's hwer eyou post all of your fun photos and projects for the Photography Club. However, for the past week, your posts have been receiving some not-so-friendly comments. You do your best to ignore them at first, but this troll has been nothing but persistent. You do the next best thing: Block them, but that doesn't stop them from making backup accounts to continue the torment.

This stress has caused you to take a massive social media break, which is only disappointing in regards to your favorite hobby. While alone in the library, Cater comes along, wondering why your MagiCam art has been absent from blessing Night Raven College. You show Cater the evidence of your stress, and nothing angered Cater more than a petty troll.

"You sit back and worry about you, Prefect. Cay Cay is on the case."

You're not sure what Cater meant by that, but surely you can trust him to get this troll off your back, right? At least that's what his clever grin is telling you. The next day, you walk from Ramshackle to the main campus only to see everyone gossiping about something. It's not until you get to Ace, Deuce, and Epel when you find out what happened. Apparently, your troll had been exposed an an Octavinelle student who had been axed from the school's art club. When Azul found out about it, the dorm's Housewarden wasn't pleased to hear about his freshman's trolling activities and chewed him out. Epel shows you what they mean, and. you can't help but smirk along with them.

You text Cater a thank you, and he replies that he doesn't know what you're talking about with a cheeky winking emoji at the end of his message.

Ace Trappola

When it comes to who's allowed to tease you out in public or private, it's always been Ace, and you've always been comfortable to let him know if a joke is too far, and criticism is always applied on his end. One day, you're out to meet up with your friends when Ace calls out to you with one of his many new nicknames he'd come up with to make you laugh. However, the moment you hear him call you "Maggy," you know it's a joke, but still, something in you snapped. Ace gets it out of you that someone has been taunting you in between classes for being magicless, and when he hears that it's been going on for the past two weeks, Ace won't stand by it.

Later in the day, you and Ace are in the cafeteria when your bully decides to act bold. The moment "Maggy" comes out of their mouth, Ace slips into the counter attack with how jealous the bully must be because a layperson knows more about magical education than he does. Ace and the bully go for a verbal smack down, and with each turn, Ace outdoes his opponent and himself.

"Even if my own Housewarden doesn't like me, at least I have family and friends to tell me never to try that hideous haircut."

The bully gets laughed out of the cafeteria and Ace is celebrated for the win, proving that even if Ace is a bum sometimes, his respect for you is no joke.

Deuce Spade

Deuce is always doing his best to be honor student material and leave his delinquent past behind. Still, deep down in his soul, he has to keep that part of him in case of "emergencies." One day, he catches up with you after class. You couldn't hear him calling you twice, so Deuce taps you on the shoulder. That causes you to have a spasm in a way Deuce had never seen you freak before. He demands to know who hurt you, and Deuce is not going to stand out you lying to him. You know Deuce is angry, but you don't want him to make your situation worse. You confess who this bully is to Deuce, but you make him swear to pretend that you didn't say anything. Deuce can't promise because this delinquent needs to be taught what for, and only HE can set things straight.

Dragging you along, Deuce stomped into the garden, where the bully and his cohorts were loafing around. Deuce challenges this coward to a fight if he was going to be so bold to lay his hands on the Prefect. The fight commences only for Deuce to overpower his opponent.

"If you wanna put your hands on me, do it all you like, but you will never EVER put your hands on them AGAIN!"

As you watch the coward and his friends make a run back for the main building, you are best assured that with Deuce proving a point, no one is going to mess with you again.

[gavillain]

My thoughts and theories after Agatha All Along episode 3. Read no further if you haven't seen the episode yet.

SHARON NOOOOOOO :'( Honestly, with the way Agatha brought her along essentially to be a meat shield, it's not surprising that she died so early on the journey down the Witches' Road, but I was still surprised that they killed off the comic relief this early. But I caught that they didn't add Sharon's hair to the antidote when brewing the potion, and I think that'll be discussed next episode. The show definitely had to establish the stakes of the Road as life or death early on, and Sharon was the only character who they COULD kill off since she was the only one without a mystery to solve. Still, sad to see her go.

In more important news, though, MEPHISTO GOT NAME DROPPED. HE'S COMING ASDFGHJKL; Listen, after all the speculation we were all doing during WandaVision about Mephisto showing up, to hear him get referenced makes me EXCITED to see if that's just going to be a world building detail or if he's going to be relevant in the story.

Agatha giving up her son, Nicholas Scratch, for the Darkhold was established as a part of her reputation in this episode. The trailers confirm that it's a bit more complicated than that, so I'm curious to know the full story. Right now, I'm theorizing that the hair in the locket is Nicholas's, and, if you remember from WandaVision, she plucked that locket off of her mother's corpse after stealing mommy's powers. So, I'm fairly certain Agatha sacrificing Nicholas is tied in with why her mother tried to have her executed back in the 1600s, and maybe Mama Harkness did something that resulted in her grandson's death? I dunno, but I wanna know! I think Nicholas Scratch IS still alive, though, and I think he's going to be the twist Big Bad of the show.

Teen is pretty obviously Billy Kaplan, and it's so obvious in fact that I wonder if it's going to be a bait and switch and he's somehow Nicholas? But like... maybe I'm overthinking it and it's only obvious that he's Billy to us comics fans. For normies watching this with only WandaVision and Multiverse of Madness for context, him being Billy WOULD be a really interesting twist, so we'll see! Regardless, he's the only person on the Road who I am reasonably certain is going to make it out alive.

The hallucinations for Lilia, Jennifer, and Alice were all interesting, though they left more questions than answers: *Lilia saw what looked like Russian royalty taunting her saying "they're all dead" as they took on more decayed and corpselike forms. I joked to my boyfriend that it was the Romanovs, but that's honestly not necessarily out of the question. Lilia in the comics is the "queen of the gypsies" in Scarlet Witch's childhood, so maybe in this verse, she was a part of the Sokovian royal family before their dynasty was killed off by revolutionaries that led to the political turmoil of Sokovia that we saw in Age of Ultron. Being a psychic, I'm willing to bet Lilia survived because she saw the massacre coming but no one else believed her, sort of a Cassandra figure. I could be WAY off base, but I like my theory.

*Jennifer is the one who I have the least read on her hallucination with the weird man trying to drown her. We know that she is bound, unable to use her powers, so is this man maybe the one who bound her? Or is he someone else tied to the events that led to her being bound? She's been bound for a little over a hundred years, and the man's clothes seemed to be from that time period. In the comics, she's from Florida and was an ally of Man-Thing, so maybe something in her story is going to tie back into Werewolf by Night? We'll have to see!

*Alice's hallucinations are the most straight forward, she saw her mother weeping because her grandmother had passed away and the mother felt it. We know her mom was a witch, and we can pretty safely assume that the grandmother was one too, I think. The mother mentions that since whatever killed the grandmother got her, now it's after her, and since we know Alice's mom is dead in the present day, that would mean that this mysterious force is now after Alice too. What is this force, though? Alice tells Teen that she has a tattoo that wards off a curse that plagues her family bloodline that her mother made her get, so is it just this curse that's after her or is it connected to something else? In the trailer, we see Alice exploding with fire as a demonic entity emerges from her. I doubt this is Mephisto, since I think if Mephisto has ties to anyone here, it'll be Teen or Rio, but maybe some subordinate of his? In the comics, she and Wanda worked together to defeat a being called Dark Tongji. I think it's likely that he's the being hunting her bloodline.

Then a few notes from earlier:

1. The Salem Seven - I went back to WandaVision for a refresher, and, not counting Agatha's mom, the coven that Agatha murders and drains of their magic in her backstory numbers at seven and they were in Salem... I'm putting money that the Salem Seven is what's left of Agatha's old coven hunting her down, or at least their descendants.

2. Rio keeps getting hints that keep lining up to hint that she's a genderbent version of Blackheart, which has me excited! I don't know if they're actually going to go this route, and her being a "Green Witch" kinda makes it a bit weird. But they keep reiterating "black heart" in relation to her and now they've referenced Mephisto, his father. So I think if Rio isn't literally Blackheart, she's at least possessed by him. We'll have to see. But I do love the crackship of Agatha Harkness/genderbent Blackheart for lesbian Marvel villain lovers. That tickles me XD

Overall, SUPER into this show thus far, and I LOVE that there's so much mystery and intrigue to piece together! I CAN'T WAIT FOR EPISODE FOUR, I NEED IT NOOWWWWWWWWWW

[sansaorgana]

— DECEPTION (I)

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — You don't believe in Sauron's defeat and you are convinced he is going to come back for you and keep his promise to make you his Queen. When the army of Orcs comes to your land, your father makes their leader an offer – your hand for sparing your family's lives. Even though you used to think that the mysterious Adar was Sauron, you quickly realise he is a dangerous stranger and most likely a person who defeated your lover. However – just like your father – you will do everything to survive and the art of deception you were taught by Sauron can be helpful.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — In this fic Ostirith is not just a watchtower but a huge fortress built in the Southlands for the chosen Elven family to watch over humans and the Reader is a daughter of the Lord Guardian of the Southlands. This story will not be extremely long but it is going to have a few parts (I do not plan more than ten).

WARNINGS — forced/arranged marriage, Reader is NOT a good person – she is proud, greedy, fake and corrupted by Sauron, "love" triangle situationship

WORD COUNT — 3,500

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DECEPTION (I)

The truth was you had never made it to Eregion. Your parents didn’t know that, of course.

You couldn’t tell what it was about you that had made Sauron himself find interest in you. You were nothing special – in fact, you were less than ordinary. A daughter of the Lord Guardian of the Southlands; born and raised in Ostirith – a huge and quite coarse fortress that had been built in the country of men for the chosen Elven family to watch over them as if they were children. Despite being a daughter of the Lord Guardian and having all sorts of privileges you still felt like a worse kind of Elf. Whenever you visited Eregion or Mithlond you felt nothing but jealousy.

Jealousy was not a pure or noble feeling and yet you allowed it to overwhelm you. You allowed other lusts to take over you as well – greed, arrogance, pride. You knew them all very well. Perhaps that was the answer to your question – Sauron had seen you through and he had known immediately how easy you would be to corrupt.

You had been intrigued by him for his power and seductive manner of speaking to you, luring you with his promises. The form he had when you two had met was attracting you as well – a handsome Elven man with long ginger hair and intense eyes that felt as if he had known all of you with just one look. By his side you had learnt a lot about the art of deception and lying to your naive parents had been nearly too easy. In their eyes you were an innocent young Elven woman and they had believed all your words and assurances about how well your studies in Eregion had been going when in fact you had been writing those letters from the bed you shared with Sauron himself. You had even sent a few letters as Lord Celebrimbor to make your lies more believable.

“It won’t last for long, my sweetling,” Sauron had been whispering to you, caressing your cheeks and neck with his fingertips. “This life we share now, it is only temporary. Soon, I shall make you my Queen and we shall rule over the whole Middle-earth together,” he had been luring you between kisses. “We shall build a city greater than Eregion and Mithlond together for us to live in and rule from.”

He had known exactly what to say to make you want him more even though his words and promises had been empty since he had nothing. Nothing except for his power… But no real army.

The last time you had seen him was while saying goodbye. You had been supposed to come back to your parents for now and he had been on the mission to make the Orcs follow him.

“Why would you want such creatures to fight for you?” You had asked with disgust when he had first suggested it.

“They will make excellent slaves,” Sauron had answered.

You had not seen him since then. And not long time had passed before the news had spread that Sauron had been defeated. You had grieved for him in secret but you also had known that it couldn’t be over yet. He had made you too many promises and he had been too powerful to disappear like that. No, you were sure he would still come back and make you his Queen.

So, back in Ostirith, you were awaiting his return while trying to find out how it had happened that he had been defeated. The rumour had it that he had failed to make the Orcs follow him and that they had turned against him, which only made you hate them even more.

And now your father was mentioning the army of Orcs nearly every day. He was growing worried because of their presence in the Southlands and the damage they were causing – death and terror amongst the humans. Men were sending their messengers to Ostirith begging for your father’s help and aid. After all, he was the Lord Guardian but the truth was it was the very first time he actually was being asked to do something. So far, during his reign, the Southlands had been pretty peaceful.

The strength of character could only be tested and truly perceived in times like this and with lots of contempt you started to see the cracks in your father’s image. He was not handling the burdens of responsibility well. Not that you loved the humans your family was supposed to protect but you simply could not approve of your father’s cowardice. He was dismissing or ignoring the men coming to him and begging for help as the fortress’ walls were being made stronger and stronger at your father’s command. He was putting all his effort to protect himself and not the humans of the Southlands. In the meantime, in the letters that he was sending to the High King Gil-galad, he was assuring the monarch that everything was under control and there were no reasons to worry.

But there were many reasons to worry. For example – nearly every single Elven soldier that had been sent to patrol the lands and control the situation… had never returned. Some had been sent back dead on their horses with a mysterious mark burnt on their body.

“These creatures… They are not intelligent beings,” your father pointed out after a third time of receiving a message in the form of this mark. It was becoming a pattern. “However, this sigil is proof that they must have a leader.”

When he said those words, your heart skipped a beat. Was it possible that Sauron had survived after all and all this time he had been hiding under a new name to deceive everyone? It was possible – it was his way. When the new rumours from the human villages spread about the Orcs having a leader they were calling their Lord Father, you started to believe that it was truly Sauron who had succeeded his attempt all those years ago after all.

Your hope began to bloom once more.

The army of Orcs had been progressively moving forward and it was no surprise since the Lord Guardian of the Southlands had been doing absolutely nothing to help the human villagers. You spent many evenings standing on the watchtower and observing the fire on the horizon from all the burning villages. The fire was coming closer with each week – they were on their way to Ostirith and you were both terrified but also intrigued because you were quite sure that the man leading the army to your fortress was your lover who had promised you to make you his Queen.

For some odd reason, though, your father seemed to be pretty composed, too. You expected him to panic but he seemed to patiently wait for the arrival of the Orcs and he was smiling at you nearly all the time. You asked your mother about his odd behaviour but she only revealed to you that he no longer had been sharing his thoughts and plans with her. Your mother was genuinely terrified and you could see her from the window of your chambers – praying by the trees and begging the Valars to save you all.

But the Valars would not save you. You had to save yourselves.

“The fire is close,” you pointed out when your father joined you on the watchtower. “They will come tomorrow,” you announced.

Truth to be told, you could already smell the awful stench of the Orcs in the wind.

“I know,” your father nodded and stood beside you.

“How are you so calm? Are you that sure our fortress will endure the attack? We both know that is not true,” you furrowed your brows. “Why are we not fleeing?”

“Fleeing? Where? To Gil-galad? To admit my defeat as the Lord Guardian? To lose all my privileges as the Lord of Ostirith?” Your father snorted at that and you suddenly realised where your own pride and greed were coming from. “We shall stay here.”

“To die, father,” you looked at him, trying to look concerned because you were not as much as you should have been. After all, you knew that Sauron would spare your life. You were worried about your mother but nothing else, really. Even if this fortress would burn, you would shed no tears. It had always felt more like a prison than home.

You could not let it be known yet, though. You had to continue playing the role of a dutiful daughter who had no idea about any evil.

“We shall reason with them,” your father told you and you tilted your head out of confusion. “Yes, my darling. Their leader must be an intelligent creature and I am sure I shall find a way to convince him to spare us and perhaps even let us stay here and rule.”

“Impossible,” you laughed at that. “You are out of your mind, father. How can you be so naive and foolish? Do you think none of these humans tried the same thing?” You pointed at the fire on the horizon.

“They are only humans. We are Elves, we have different qualities,” your father only shrugged his arms.

“Gil-galad would never forgive you. That would be treason,” you pointed out.

“I shall serve the new Lord then,” he answered and you were truly shocked by how easy your father would turn sides only to keep his position and power.

Even though you had known a man much worse and rotten than him, he was your father and you had not expected that of him so a shiver of disgust and fear ran through your body. Also, Sauron’s behaviour was rooted in his ambitions for power, meanwhile your father simply had no backbone.

In fact, you were ashamed to be his daughter.

Without a word, you retreated to your chambers and began your preparations for the next day, which would change your life forever.

Your mother wanted you all to run away when the Orcs were spotted from the watchtower. They were truly coming and their army was huge. She was begging your father but he only sent a messenger to stand on the bridge and inform the Orcs that he wished to speak to their leader.

So you waited in the room your father would welcome his guests in. It was some sort of a throne room but it was not as grand and cosy as the rooms in the beautiful palaces of Eregion or Mithlond. It was quite empty and cold just like this whole fortress. Only the ornaments decorating the walls were revealing that the place truly belonged to the Elves.

Your father was sitting on the big chair and nervously patting his fingers on the armrest, impatiently waiting for the leader of the Orcs to accept his invitation. Your mother and you were standing behind him in grey gowns, trying to blend in with the environment.

To be honest, you wanted to wear the grandest gown to greet Sauron again after all those years but you did not want to reveal yourself just yet. You had to blend in and act scared like your mother.

“He is coming,” one of the guards entered the room and informed your father with a head nod. “The Lord Father of the Orcs… Adar,” he explained.

“Very well,” your father nodded back at the guard and straightened his back.

You held your breath at the sound of the steps but the closer they were, the more anxious your heart was growing. They did not sound familiar to you at all and they were bringing you no comfort. Could it be that the man you had been taking for Sauron was not your lover but the one who had defeated him?

Your heart was pounding fast in your chest when the doors opened and the mysterious man walked inside. His steps were heavy and confident as he looked around with a contemptuous smirk.

That man was no Sauron. The realisation caused the blood in your veins to turn cold.

You knew that Sauron could change the way he looked – his dark hair and different face did not mean a thing to you. But it was something about his eyes and his aura that was deeply disturbing and unfamiliar. That man was a real Elf – you could feel that you shared an ancient secret of your kin with him but his light of Valinor was long gone. He was a dark, empty, barren land and the scars on his extremely pale face revealed how much he had been through and how far he was willing to go. His presence was eerie to the Elves who were not corrupted because he seemed to be a dark possibility; a warning to what might happen if you don't follow the path of the light.

He was something none of you had expected and now you started to worry and be scared as well. You took your mother’s hand to seek comfort.

“Lord Guardian,” the man named Adar stood in front of your father and bowed his head but the gesture was a visible form of mockery. “You wish to reason with me so I’ve heard. But is there anything to reason about when you are defeated already? You have no army, only a few soldiers,” Adar looked around.

He had to be quite surprised that your father truly had not asked any other Elven Lords for their support just because of his pride and fear of losing position – he'd rather lose his life.

“Soldiers and armies are not the only way to resolve a conflict, Lord Father,” your father pointed out. “I have an offer for you.”

“An offer?” Adar snorted but his eyes were truly intrigued. “What possibly could you give me, Lord Guardian?”

“You must be lonely, Lord Father. You walk amongst so many of your children but you have no companion who would match you,” your father began and you widened your eyes at his words. Was he realising that he could possibly insult that dangerous man?

“Are you offering me a fellowship?” Adar asked and the irony in his voice was so clear that it nearly made you feel secondhand embarrassment for your father. “Forgive me, Lord Guardian. I do not need you to–”

“I am offering you a wife,” your father interrupted him with a smirk and a nod.

You and your mother exchanged a look with your eyes widened. She yelped after realising what he had meant.

“You cannot! Husband, please!” She began to tremble.

“How dare you?!” You accused him, standing in front of your mother to shield her from the men inside the room.

“Now you have me intrigued, I have to admit. I have not been expecting such an eventful meeting,” Adar tilted his head and laughed. “But do forgive me, I have no interest in your wife, Lord Guardian,” he added and bowed his head towards you and your mother. You sighed out of relief.

“There has been a misunderstanding,” your father shook his head with irritation. “I am not offering you my wife. She is mine,” he pointed out and extended his hand to grab your mother’s shaky hand. She allowed him to take it but she flinched at the touch. “I am offering you my daughter in return to spare our lives and allow me to stay here as your ally,” your father explained. “I shall watch over the Southlands for you while your army progresses to go North.”

The world stopped for you at that moment. You held your breath and could hear your own heartbeat inside your ears as your hands dropped to your sides. Your mother screamed at your father but you could not understand a word. You saw in slow-motion how Adar turned his head around to look you up and down and you swallowed thickly.

The way he was staring at you… It nearly made you feel as if he had known your secret. Could he smell Sauron on you? You knew he would not be as easily deceived as your parents. He kept observing you and you kept observing him, finding it hard to hide your disgust. Not only he was a fallen Elf who stinked like an Orc but he was also a man cruel in a way different from your beloved. He was less sophisticated. Being his wife would mean spending ages in the mud, surrounded by those filthy and stupid Orcs, being at the mercy of a ruthless creature like him and his awful children.

You hated your father with so much fire that you felt your cheeks burning and your fists clenching. You were filled with contempt towards him and Adar and that turned your face into a cold and spiteful statue. You surely did not look pretty or alluring at that moment.

“I have no interest in your daughter either,” Adar spoke and stopped looking at you to lay his eyes on your father again.

And even though it brought you relief, you also felt your ego being a little bruised. Who did he think he was? Sauron himself wanted you as his lover… His Queen. And some Adar,… Lord Father of the Orcs, did not?!

“Perhaps you would like to rethink that statement? My daughter is of many talents and a great intuition,” your father was trying to sell you out. “She studied in all the grandest cities of the Elven lands.”

“We shall stay here for a week, my children need to rest,” Adar announced, ignoring your father's desperate attempts. “If you give up Ostirith without a fight, then it is only for the better. We shall be your guests and in a week I shall decide what to do with you,” he smiled contemptuously and looked you up and down once again before turning around to walk out of the room as if your father was no longer the Lord and held no power.

Well, it was true. Adar was the Lord of this fortress for now.

And you finally began to realise that it could be the last week of your life. Of course he would not allow you to run away and obviously he was not your lover Sauron who would save you from your misery. You had no idea where Sauron was… What if he was dead as they claimed? You were trapped.

“What were you thinking?!” Your mother kept screaming at your father.

“Shush!” He raised his hand to silence her. “You…” He pointed his finger at you. “You have a week.”

“A week for what?” You asked angrily with your jaw clenched but you already knew the answer. You had a week to save your life and you had more in common with your father than you would like to admit… You would do anything to survive.

“A week to convince Adar that he needs a wife like you,” your father explained and your mother kept staring at him with pure hatred in her eyes.

“I would rather us all to die than for my daughter to marry this man and fall just like him. Have you seen him? The light of Valinor is gone from his soul!” She protested.

“If I do that… I shall do that for myself and for my mother. You and your ambition mean nothing to me,” you drawled through gritted teeth before walking away.

In the hall, you already spotted the Orcs entering this sacred Elven fortress. A shiver went down your spine. If it was true that Sauron had been defeated by them, you did not even want to think of how it had to be when he died. What had they done to him? You kept staring at them with nothing but pure hatred and disgust as they were looking around your home and already ruining it with their stench and dirty hands.

Adar stood amongst them, watching you, too. He was angry at you and you could not understand why until you saw him interacting with one of the Orcs standing nearby. He truly was like a father to them and he had to find it insulting that you were staring at his children with disgust. Perhaps, you would have to play your game a little differently but it would be no problem for you to change your tactic.

Sauron had taught you well.

And if this man was the one who had defeated him, you could get close to him only to destroy him in the end to avenge your lover. Perhaps you could lead the army of the Orcs to Sauron when he returns because of that you were more than sure or at least you wanted to be – that he would come back to you to keep his promise and make you his Queen.

MASTERLIST

[vixensdungeon]

"But Viv, you sexy queen of the dungeon," you ask, "why don't you have a problem with players invoking specific mechanics in combat but do have a problem with them asking to make an ability check?"

You know I actually thought about this a bit, hypothetical question asker, and the answer is pretty simple: I've never heard a player say they want to make an attack roll to deal damage to an enemy. They just say they attack the goblin or whatever, which is an action the character can take. The more verby a mechanic is, the more okay I am with going mechanics first.

It's the same with "I cast magic missile." That's an action your character can take. "I turn undead." Even "I use cunning action to Disengage." The action the character is taking is clear in every instance. And that's what makes the difference between these and "I make an Arcana check."

[mydarlingdearestdead]

Bow in hand, Apollo roared, "Athena has her pet mortals-" The owl on Athena's shoulder squawked as if on cue, "-Why is Hyacinth- A mortal man that I happen to love- such a vital issue to this council?"

"There was no case to make Odysseus immortal." Zeus replied simply, "This is a different matter."

"Odysseus also wasn't killed by the west wind in a blind rage." Apollo's voice, devoid of melody, rose like Poseidon's tide, "And if he had, you would not hesitate to appease her."

Athena rose her head, grey eyes narrowed. She did not protest. Zeus looked hopefully toward her gilded expression for a long moment. Her spear head shone in the final strains of sunlight filtering through the columns, risen by her side. Zeus swiftly faced his son once more.

"What would your mother say?" He attempted, a white-knuckled grip on the arms of his throne.

Apollo conjured an image of his mother- Lovely-haired Leto- and a soft smile grew upon his lips, "Why, father... If I didn't know better, I'd say you were deflecting." Zeus sneered and, cautious, Apollo retracted, "Good thing I do know better.

"My mother... Leto traversed the Earth in an effort to birth me and my sister-" He held a hand to Artemis, who instead rose and brushed his cheek lightly. Without a word passed between them, she returned to her seat, and Apollo continued, "-And Delos became her sanctuary. Our sanctuary. She knew both love and agony..."

He turned from his father in a flash of clarity, seeking the goddess who sat silently by him. "Queen Hera, I will not say I do not hold resentment toward you for your treatment of Leto. But... But I have grown to adore you in every manner of the word despite. I think my mother would respect that... In the moments before she turns me into a frog, that is."

A long instant passed between the council. Hera held Apollo's gaze, ox eyes wide and inviting. Eventually, she replied, "I do not believe you to have answered my husband's question."

Wordlessly, Apollo bowed his head to her and addressed his father once more, "As I said, my mother knew both love and agony in our birth. I do not speak of her love for you, Lord Zeus, because that is simply false, nor do I speak of the agony of childbirth as Lady Hera mustn't be blamed for that. Love for the children she carried-" Apollo spared Artemis another hopeful glance, "- and the agony resulting from the man who raped her. My mother, should she see me here today, would cheer in my favour."

An uneasy look passed between the remnants of Zeus' children at Apollo's words. They each looked to their father in turn, carefully dissecting his neutral expression. Apollo remained, flawed confidence unperturbed.

"We..." Zeus' voice boomed, "Will reconvene the morning of the second day of Thargelia."

[dreadfutures]

What I want to ask the people who have played the game, but they may not have played enough to tell, is: does it still feel personal *to your games*

I know this game will feel personal *by playing Rook* but does it feel like it's your Thedas. Or is it just a fantasy world that we happen to know the Big Lore Questions About.

If it feels like it's a world we have touched as players somehow, then fine. If not, I grieve a bit.

I just want to know if it even feels like my world state exists. I don't so much care if my choices were "invalidated" or not... I want to feel like they existed. at all.

I want to learn the deep lore answers just as much as the other theory crafting deep divers but I also want to feel like this is my world. Mahariel's letter to Lavellan did that for me, y'know? A vague statue to the HoF in Redcliffe did that. 🥲 The world was touched. I was hoping that maybe word of a Dalish HoF had reached Davrin, *would matter* even for a moment. That Morrigan's interest in saving the world might mention, perhaps, having a stake because she has a child.

And maybe the answer is yes, it still feels personal! I am the Queen of Wait and See/Withhold Judgement!

At the moment though, this is where my worry and disappointment lie. And frankly the responses to some of that worry has been kind of dismissive and a little rude :")

it doesn't have to be "whole ass voiced and animated cameos" vs "you will not find a whiff of your world state because we were afraid"

And part of me wonders, if you're not a Deep Lore Hound, and it's essentially a Game Disconnected From Previous (except Solas)... If what has happened in Morrigan's past doesn't matter at all... Then really, yeah, the only thing that matters from the previous games is... nothing? :-/

[multimilfs]

Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader: The Reigning Game, Chapter (5/?) - Vows Made With Sacred Blades

Summary: With a new threat brought to light and victory on the horizon, what will you do next?

AO3

A/N: Not me showing up 3 years late to my own party...

In all seriousness, this story underwent HEAVY edits. I recommend rereading the whole thing as I added scenes and adjusted old ones. Also, I answered a bunch of questions in my end note on a03, so I'd also read that xoxo

Tag List: @white--lillies @escapetodreamworld @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @imtrashinflames @thatmacrameisnotgonnahitchitself @thoroughly--confused (apologies if i missed anyone, it has been a while)

Warning(s): Blood, Suicide Mention

(Previous Chapters)

“Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away.” P.K. Dick

You don’t remember when Agatha fell to her knees.

The sword catches the light, dripping with thin, bright blood. Agatha’s blood. It startles you that she’s the same inside as you; you had expected corruption to flow through her veins, staining her black from the inside out.

Agatha groans. Barely propped up on her knees, she’s using one hand to support herself while the other glows and fizzles out repeatedly. The sword doesn’t vanish, the wound doesn’t heal.

The wound may not have been by your own hand, but is this… victory? Have you won?

“Coward,” Agatha spits, “stabbing me in the back.”

Your heart races with something strangely like fear, yet a little to the left. With every drop of blood staining the grass the emotion grows. Her winces with every move twist something in you. Revenge is like honey on your tongue—so why do you feel sick?

Let her die.

Lightness sweeps through your limbs. Walking away now would be so easy. It is your turn to have the last word.

“Help me up.” Agatha demands.

Her chest rises, though stutters each time as the pain of her flesh sliding over the blade renews. Under her breath she lets loose a string of obscene curses.

You tilt your head, your own voice sounding far away, “Why should I?”

Agatha freezes. For the first time since falling, she looks at you. You’re struck by the change in circumstances; not long ago it was you kneeling at her feet, begging. You’re seized by the desire to feel her beg.

You want to hold her heart in your hands and squeeze.

“Don’t do this. Not now.”

The laugh comes too easy, “I never took you for a sore loser, Harkness.”

“If you want to win, stab me yourself—don’t profit off of someone else’s fortune.”

You stare at her, hard; the paling of her skin, the way her fingers are clenched in the grass, palm sputtering purple. Her eyes are furious. There’s also something else there you can’t quite place.

“You don’t get it, do you?” You ask, “Being rid of you is winning. How it happens is irrelevant.”

Agatha’s lips pull into a smirk. It lacks the usual strength, but you still find yourself unmoored—fear creeping in where triumph was moments earlier.

Her eyes drag over you. Her own head tilts.

“You’d be beautiful like this—if it was really you.”

You can’t breathe.

“I beg your pardon?”

You stand back—watching, waiting. Her eyes bore into you, the pain in them becoming more evident. You feel sick.

It’s wrong to let her suffer, to watch her bleed out when you can help, but wouldn’t she do the same given the chance? How many battles had you fought, how many thousands cut down just so she could get to you? And she hadn’t allowed you the dignity of dying with your people.

No, she forced you into this circus.

You’re better than her; you’ll grant her the dignity of a swift death.

“You want to be the one responsible, always have.” Agatha says, the hint of a wheeze creeping into her speech. You’re surprised she held out as long as she did. “That’s why you put the poison in my tea, isn’t it?”

She… She knew.

She knew.

“Your death is for the best.” You say.

“She’ll s-slaughter them all. What was it you said—a Queen does what is best, even when it isn’t in her interests?” Agatha laughs, but it's hollow, weak, “Some Queen you are, signing their death warrant.”

You fall to your knees at her side.

Agatha Harkness is the source of all your problems, a tormenter you just cannot escape; but if you kill her now, you undo all you’ve done, and condemn your people to death—or worse. You have to act as a Queen ought. You need her.

“What do I do?” You whisper.

“Get… Get me outside this damn barrier. I’ll handle the rest.”

But hadn’t you already—?

When you stand, you’re barely able to lift Agatha to lean on you. If not for the little remaining strength she has you’d be done for. But you take what you can get and push through the screaming of your body to drag her toward the barrier that wasn’t there a moment ago.

The barrier gleams and twists in place. It's objectively beautiful, but what you’ve witnessed here has dulled your admiration.

You’re steps away when there’s a chuckle on your right, “I have to admit, you surprise me.”

You shove Agatha through before you can think. Without touching the barrier yourself, you turn, and stare into the eyes you’re coming to hate more than the original pair.

The too-wide smile again greets you, “With all that rage I expected you to take my sword and cut her apart.”

“I’m not a monster.”

“Aren’t you?”

“You said I had a fortnight.”

“You do,” She hums, unbothered by your glare, “this is a warning.”

“You think your promises weren’t warning enough? Your intentions were plain.” You snarl.

A distorted, hollow laugh crawls from her mouth, “You know nothing of what I’ll do to you. Your dear, sweet wife went easy on you.”

“You know nothing.”

She had been looking off at some distant marker, only for her head to snap violently to look at you, the crack making you flinch. The once-empty gaze is now full of fury. Behind the blackness, a flame burns bright.

“I know more of her than you’ll ever understand.” She hisses, “And if you were smart, you’d have let her die.”

And she’s gone, as if a product of your imagination.

You reach out and feel yourself pulled back through the barrier.

-- --

“If they never come out of there, what happens?” Darcy whispers.

Lady Darcy always prided herself on an excellent understanding of magic and magical theory; but with every moment spent in the world alongside Agatha Harkness, she grows less sure.

Agatha Harkness is an anomaly; the kind of witch born once in a thousand years. It seems as if magical anomalies follow in her wake, but are they caused by her, or merely drawn out of hiding by her power?

They stand alone in the clearing with their thoughts, Guards and company preparing to take their leave should the two of you return. Hope fades more every moment. 

Lord James looks utterly defeated, “I… I don’t know. They’ve left no heir.”

“Which means The Council will appoint one.”

A look of dread passes between the two.

“We can’t let that happen.”

“How are we going to stop them?” Darcy raises a brow.

Lord James Woo spent his life serving at your side, and proudly; you’ve held tight to propriety, unbent by corruption, guiding with level-headed and clear intent. The tactics in his mind now would never have your approval.

But if you’re dead, he has to look out for the living.

“We lie.”

Darcy blinks.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you properly. We lie?” She hisses.

“What else do you suggest?!”

“Oh, I don’t know, something less stupid!”

James winces.

“We say she appointed an heir prior to… this. Agatha didn’t sign off, but she didn’t speak against it, either. You and I were both witnesses.”

Pacing the small length between them, chewing on her nail, scenarios pass through both of their minds. Scenario one; somehow, the Council accepts the word as fact. Scenario two; they’re disbelieved and exiled at best, executed at worst.

You find lying reprehensible. But your goal has always been to protect the people, to offer them the best; they have to try and do the same.

“Say they buy it; who is her heir?”

The look the question earns her is particularly scathing for James. She smiles sheepishly.

Only one within the kingdom held enough of your trust to be named heir in your place. Only one person you knew would hold up under the weight of expectation and would keep the best interests of the people in mind.

The set up could not be more perfect if they tried. Not only is the woman of royal blood, but her Mother’s House widely acclaimed for their military and strategic prowess. Factor in her closeness to you and it makes the nomination impossible to ignore; far stronger than the minor Lord they would put in her place.

“Alright,” Darcy agrees, “but we’ll give them all the time we can.”

“Right.”

Luckily, or unluckily, they do not wait long.

One moment the space before them is empty, the next there is a heap of woman kneeling on the ground, propped up by a shaking arm. A heap with dark hair and clad in purple.

“Foolish fucking woman.” Agatha bites out loud enough for them to hear.

Darcy notices the sword moments before Agatha straightens, pushing said item out of her body with a long moan. James freezes. Darcy shrieks.

Agatha pays them no mind; slamming her hand onto the barrier that doesn’t allow her to pass, magic crackling at her fingertips and then pulling in, wrapping around the witch as she breathes it in. The wound in her middle knits itself back together before their eyes.

The barrier ripples. You blip into existence.

There is a split second where you blink and make eye contact with Darcy and James. The next, your eyes are drawn to the swirl of magic being pulled from the barrier and turning violet.

“Are you alright?” You demand, gripping her arm, turning her to face you as your eyes roam. Your body screams with exhaustion.

Agatha goes taut. Her theft stops when she turns to glare at you. When her lips pull up in a mighty sneer, you expect the lashing of a century; you had been seconds away from leaving her for dead, after all.

Her body relaxes in your grip, her voice careful, “I’m fine, dear.”

“Swear it?”

“I swear.”

Something inside you relaxes. You’ll live to see another day if she is near to lend her power—and well enough to do so. Your people’s safety is nearly assured.

How, though, to secure a promise of protection from her that isn’t all talk? You can’t bind a witch like her to law, try as you might. She will always have the upper hand of immeasurable power. You need that power bent to your will.

An itch scratches at the back of your mind; a memory long forgotten, a whisper of words once-said that you can’t quite understand.

“What the hell happened in there?!”

Darcy’s voice interrupts your racing thoughts. You hear the borderline panic in the question.

How heavy you feel, how weary. What about you attracts so many threats?

Agatha speaks before you can, “A new adversary has presented itself.”

“And they’re responsible for all… this?” James waves to the barrier.

“More or less.”

A look passes between Darcy and James.

“They’ve given us fourteen days to prepare, as if we need that long,” Agatha scoffs, breezing through, “but you’ll stay here and tell us of any changes. You have ravens?”

“We send word on horseback.” Darcy answers, slowly.

“Horseback? My god, how do you get anything done?”

With a wave of her hand, a metal cage appears with five ravens inside. They’re curiously quiet. Beady eyes look into yours, far more intelligence behind them than you anticipate. Their feathers shift violet in the sun but remain pure black otherwise.

Your Father seldom had the patience for training ravens; though he had attempted on and off throughout your childhood. The experience was rife with highs and lows. He would boast to your Mother, glowing with triumph one day, only to come back sullen the next. Every raven he attempted to train had flown away when it mattered.

Not for the first time, you wonder what had gone wrong; you did not know any creature that would flee permanently if endeared to their owner.

Agatha opens the cage door and holds out a finger. The nearest one steps up, though the others hop forward to nuzzle at her hand.

“Yes, hello,” Agatha coos.

Hand extracted, raven perched obediently on her finger, Agatha sets her shoulders. An air of arrogance surrounds her. She waves her other hand and a blank piece of parchment appears in the space between you.

“Write me a lovely note, darling, and I’ll show you all how to send it.” Agatha’s smile is saccharine.

“Would that I had a quill.”

“You know how to use your fingers, don’t you?”

The low, raspy note of her voice makes you flush.

You draft up a suitably nasty message and sign it with a flourish. Batting your lashes, you fold the letter, and go so far as to press a kiss to the back before handing it over. She smirks.

The kiss on the back raises into a wax seal. Agatha winks.

She beckons you forward with an impatient tilt of her head. You follow, stepping further into her space than you're comfortable with.

“Hold out your hand,” She commands and you do, mimicking her own position, “Repeat after me—Serva.”

“Serva.”

You don’t expect the raven to launch herself from Agatha’s fingers into flight; but when she does, you’re helpless to do anything but watch as she flips and twists in midair. Beside you, Agatha mutters something about showing off.

When the bird pauses and hovers, there is a flash of white light, and the letter is gone from your hands and tied instead around her leg.

Agatha scoffs, “Obedire.”

“Obedire.”

A strong burst of movement brings her back to perch on Agatha, head bowed. You tilt your head. Agatha strokes a finger over the back of the raven's head, scratching lightly.

“To the castle.”

A warble and she’s off, flying North with single-minded focus.

There’s a certain wistfulness in watching her go. What must it be like to fly, to have the freedom of the world laid out before you? Yet, she isn’t truly free; remaining captive to a Mistress who only lets her take to the skies when it suits her. How alike the two of you are.

James is staring at the still-caged ravens. One of his fingers is stuck through the bars and scratching along the raven’s head in a mirror of Agatha. It warbles, shifting closer, but doesn’t take its eyes off of its Mistress.

“It can’t be that easy.” Darcy says, arms crossed.

“Ravens are far more intelligent than horses,” Agatha shrugs, “and easier to care for. Treat them properly and they’ll do whatever you command.”

“They’re so sweet.” James coos, earning affectionate noises from the group, “Oh yes you are.”

One bird has remained on the other side of the cage away from James. Their eyes aren’t wary like you’d expect, just… curious. They sparkle with awareness.

Faintly, you hear Darcy and Agatha bickering over the merits of horses vs ravens, but you pay them little mind. You cross around the large cage to where the lone raven sits. They follow your approach.

You crouch to be eye level. The raven tilts their head.

“Hello,” You murmur, “what are you doing over here all alone?”

As expected they do not talk back. They don’t even warble. Fluttering their wings, you wait for them to cross around to another section of the enclosure blissfully absent of people. Yet, their wings settle and they bow their head.

The pose offers you a closer view under their plumage. You can see the true length of their dark feathers, where they come to connect to hidden flesh. A white protrusion among the plumage brings you pause.

Every glimpse of your Father’s ravens had been from afar; seeing them fly around his office and listening to his curses when they didn’t land at his command, or catching sight of one when they escaped their enclosure and dove through the nearest window. You’re left at a loss when faced with the trust being presented.

Would it be worth attempting to help, or will you only cause harm in your ignorance?

“A pin feather,” Agatha says right beside your ear.

You jump.

Agatha is bent next to your crouched form, propped up by one hand on the trunk where the cage sits. The position puts her face just slightly above your own. When you turn, your eyes unconsciously dart to her lips, before meeting her eyes.

The look on her face is curious. She’s taking you in like one takes in a specimen they’re studying.

“How do I fix it?”

“Pinch gently and roll it between your fingers.”

When you reach in, the raven bows her head again. She is utterly still as you follow Agatha’s instructions to the letter. Her head pops up and shakes—the white covering falling away. She nuzzles your hand sweetly.

“Say ‘thank you,’ Aquila.” Agatha says.

Aquila lets out a sound that is remarkably similar to thank you. You blink.

When you regard Agatha, you catch a glimpse of the expression leveled at Aquila and the other ravens; pure, uninterrupted affection. The emotion softens her features, eyes crinkled at the edges, lips upturned. Her beauty is striking.

Darcy and James watch from your periphery. You shake yourself from the trance you’re in.

“We should go.” You say, hushed.

Agatha turns, looking over your features, and nods. She straightens and offers out a hand. You take it. In a swift turn, she weaves your arm over her own, acting the part of lead. 

Her face is neutral, but beneath her gaze, your companions fidget and shift.

“If you return my ravens in any state less than what they’re in now, I will torture you slowly.” The statement is punctuated by a raised brow.

“We—We’ll take good care of them.” James vows.

Agatha nods. She regards you, waiting.

“Be careful. Send a letter if anything changes, but don’t go searching for anomalies—am I understood?”

Darcy nods. A haunted look passes over James’ face, dimming the usual light in his eyes. Without so much as a glance to his companion he steps forward.

“Your Majesty, may I have a word with you privately?”

You blink, grip on Agatha’s arm tensing unconsciously.

“Of course.”

Agatha releases you with a sideways glance. You focus on your advisor and friend, who at the moment resembles a wilted flower. Grim is the expression he wears; an expression you haven’t seen in a long time.

He leads you until you stand at his side under a half-blackened tree. The bark on one side is perfect, not a divot out of place, while the other side crumbles at a glance. You run your fingers along the dying side and wish for it to one day grow strong again.

Looking back, you see Agatha and Darcy side-by-side, both pointedly ignoring one another; Agatha reading a book without actually handling the pages and Darcy looking around, lips puckered in a whistle.

“Is something wrong, James?” You ask when he comes to a stop.

He fidgets. Meeting your eyes, he gives you a long look. Tilting your head makes him look away. He clears his throat once, then twice.

“Your Majesty, I— Well, you see, we—” James sighs, then blurts, “Have you given any thought to an heir?”

You blink.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Marriages usually bring about heirs to fill the succession, Your Majesty, and with another conflict seeming imminent I believe having something in place is worthwhile. Has there been a discussion between you and your—Her Highness?”

“I’m familiar with the expectations of marriage,” If your voice is a touch frosty, you don’t give it much attention, “and I don’t much appreciate that the topic of conversation in private parlors pertains to my marriage bed.”

“Your Majesty—”

“What is it you suggest, James? Am I to bring a child into what could turn out to be another war?” You snarl.

James flinches. Upon seeing this, regret turns a knife in your chest.

“No,” He says, quietly, “You know I’d never suggest such a thing.”

Anger is rung out of you like water from a towel, you ask, carefully, “What would you suggest I do?”

“Appoint a successor. If you do it, The Council can’t do it for you should you…”

You nod.

“I will consider it.”

“Safe travels, Your Majesty.”

When you walk from the half-dying tree, you walk alone to the carriage. Along the way Agatha falls into step at your side. You cannot find the energy to hate her company.

-- --

You had been a precocious child; at only six, testing the might of your station against the will of those left to care for you. As Crown Princess, your commands had superseded that of your minders the second you drew breath. Once or twice you’d felt guilty about how Celine—your governess—would puff up, only to deflate and bow with a ‘yes, Princess’—but the guilt was washed away by the incentive of whatever you’d wormed your way into.

By seven, your Father had been made wise to your behavior; though you could never figure out how; you had long since commanded all your minders not to speak a word of your commands. But he knew and sought to punish you in a manner that made a lasting impression.

He let you sit in silence.

Silence, he had said, was the best teacher. One cannot ignore their innermost self if they’re forced to face them.

The room he had the servants make up was plain; boasting only a cushioned chair in the center of the space. You were not permitted to drag said chair over to the window. The task of sitting with your thoughts was as simple as the room, and far more boring.

Guards were posted outside the door to see you were not disturbed or harmed. No servants were allowed in otherwise.

You’d thought him a silly old man. In the absence of distractions you had your wild, adventuring mind to keep you busy—you would not fall into whatever trap he believed he’d set.

But two hours turned into four and your head ached with the effort of conjuring up more daydreams. Then you slept. When you woke, there was no more sunlight, and your head no longer hurt. You imagined you were a bird flying through the window and laughing in your Father’s face. It did not satisfy you. You paced the room, then sat back down, then paced again. Despite having rested, your body began to ache with exhaustion and the pain in your head from before returned.

“I hate him.” You’d whispered, then immediately regretted it.

For how busy he was, he still found a sliver of time each week to see you. Sometimes it was something quick like sitting in on one of your lessons, or, on special occasions he’d join you and your Mother for dinner. For how harsh he could be at times, you’d never been anything but excited when he walked in the room. 

The guilt at the words spoken to yourself prompted your mind to spiral. How else had you been cruel, spewing awful words where it was not deserved?

You had been unkind, you’d realized. By commanding the servants in ways you had no right to, you had opened them up to punishments of which they were undeserving. Above all else, you were still a Princess; not yet of the right to command in the ways your Father did.

Guilt was a powerful emotion. And when your governess was permitted to peer in, she found you on the floor before the seat you’d been allowed, knees to chest, shaking with tears.

The moments following had been a blur. You think Celine had tried to usher you to your feet, but it’s a missing piece; all you remember is being carried from the room and falling asleep, waking to your Father standing above you.

“You’ve learned your lesson?”

You nodded.

“Good,” He offered a stilted pat to your head, “Do not forget it.”

The guilt had made you sick for the remainder of the week; everything you ate, save for the smallest portions, found the way back up. Celine was one of your only visitors, with the exception of your Mother and your teachers.

Your Father had been right in the end; silence had been your greatest educator.

You wish you were alone with the silence now, but as of late, everywhere and everything is touched by Agatha. She sits on the other carriage bench, book held magically aloft as she reads.

To say you’ve been through a lot in a day would be selling your experiences short; yet your mind keeps returning to the blood on that sword and the sickening pride of knowing she had no way out. You had, for a moment, tasted victory—revenge. And now you close your eyes against the nausea it brings. How close you’d come to condemning your people, all to satisfy your sickening desire.

She had remembered your goal; but was it only to manipulate you into keeping her alive? In her words there had been a subtle promise of usefulness, of protection. Subtle isn’t what you need.

You’ve no idea how long Agatha’s been alive. The true weight of her power is a mystery to you that you’re not likely to solve alone. Her peers could judge her power, but would any come if you called? You need to bind her power to what serves your people but short of a Witch’s Vow there’s nothing—

A Witch’s Vow.

The forgotten thought itching at the back of your mind is realized. You thrum with satisfaction.

“You made a promise today, to help my people—I want you to swear on it.”

Agatha gazes up, a lazy smile stretching, “Very well, dear. I swear.”

“Make a Witch’s Vow over it.”

She goes still. The smile vanishes and something passes through her eyes. The book that levitates before her dissipates in a pop.

“And if I don’t?”

“You will.”

“Demanding a Witch’s Vow does not bind me to one.”

“It would protect you.”

“Protect me?” Agatha scoffs.

“You make this vow to me and I’ll pause my attempts in killing you.”

“I’m not afraid of you, dear.”

“Maybe not, but I’m sure you’re afraid of her.” You say, tilting your head. A smug smile stretches over your features, “And what’s to stop her from coming after you again, should I ask?”

“Your shortsightedness is embarrassing, darling, I thought we were past this; if I die, you and your people follow.”

“Given your unwillingness to swear aid, it seems we’ll die either way. I’m simply planning for the outcome with the greatest reward.”

You watch her, she watches you. Her narrowed eyes dart over various planes of your face and for once you have no desire to shrink under the scrutiny. Had she wanted to kill you, you’re confident she’d have done so already; no, she wants you alive, and that can be used to your advantage.

Her eyes glow purple and hands clench in her skirts. Agatha sighs and her eyes return to their normal blue.

“You’re as open a book as they come, it’s a wonder she even needed into your mind.” Agatha rolls her eyes, “We need to work on that.”

You tuck your curiosity away for later, “Will you make the Vow or not?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll make your silly vow. Name your terms.”

“I want you and your magic sworn to the service of the kingdom—and that you will not act against it over the duration of our agreement.”

“No. New terms.”

“Those are my terms.”

“Swearing my magic to the service of your kingdom restricts my use of it for any other purpose. I’m not wasting my time on the same trick.”

“It wouldn’t be forever. You’re only bound until I dissolve the agreement.”

She leans forward, baring her teeth, blackened hands stopping just short of grabbing you. Her nails seem longer, sharper. Should she grab you, you fear for the damage they’d wreak on your flesh.

“I know your manipulative little mind, darling, and I won’t let you chain me to your kingdom until it no longer pleases you.” Agatha snarls, “New. terms.”

Despite the show of force, that sense of calm remains. You see the heart of her, the fear swimming in her eyes over the idea of being chained, restricted. Powerless. Does the fear of losing her own power fuel her joy at taking your own?

You should feel offended that she thinks so little of you—never have you desired to chain someone, to bind them—but the better side of you seldom interacts with her. The idea of her in chains pleases you. You shift as that pleasure makes itself known at the apex of your thighs.

“During the duration of our deal, you’ll act in the best interests of the kingdom. If there are threats, you’ll do what you can to handle them; and if there are people in need, you’ll lend your power to aid them.”

Agatha regards you thoughtfully, “No little clause about not killing you?”

“My death serves no benefit to my people.”

Her eyebrows raise. With a shake of her head she holds out her hand, palm up. You mimic the action.

An artful flick of her fingers and a wisp of violet summon an ornate dagger into her open hand. The hilt is short, silver wrapped in indigo briars that while appearing sharp don’t seem to mar Agatha’s hand. A blade of black metal extends from it, curving to-and-fro, until sharpening to an intense point.

You wince at the sight of it, “Can you not… use magic?”

“You want a sacred Vow, don't you?” Agatha scoffs, “There’s no Vow more sacred than that made with a Coven Blade.”

“You don’t have a coven.”

Agatha scowls, “I am aware. It was inherited.”

“From who?”

“My Mother.”

“If it belongs to her coven, shouldn’t one of her fellowship have it?”

“They would,” She says, turning and holding the blade point-down above her palm, “if they weren’t all dead.”

Without so much as a wince, she carves an X in the center of her palm, flesh parting cleanly. Blood pools in her hand.

“Oh.”

She moves so fast you don’t know to anticipate the pain until it blossoms up your arm. Looking down, you wear a matching X, complete with the ever-growing pool of blood.

Agatha presses her palm to the top of your forearm, just below where it meets the elbow. Blood seeps between her fingers and around the curve of your arm.

“I, Agatha Harkness, swear upon my blood and gifts, that I will act in the best interests of your kingdom. I will destroy any entity that threatens these interests and lend my power to those within your borders that require its support.” As she speaks, she drags her hand down the length of your forearm, leaving a smear of red in its wake. When she clasps your palms together, she looks at you, magic swirling in her eyes, “This is my Vow to you.”

Upon the final word, lavender flame erupts down the length of your arm and her own, burning away the blood left behind. It moves and wedges its way between your interlocked palms. The light that emits, violet and white and so bright it burns, forcing your eyes closed. The flesh of your palm is mended as if nothing happened.

Agatha’s palm still bears the X, though healed.

“So I don’t forget.” She winks.

“If you did, what would happen?”

“For something small, maybe a little zap, some exhaustion.” Agatha shrugs, “Something large… I’m sure the punishment would fit the crime. Eager to see me tortured, are you?”

You do your best to ignore the salacious grin.

“I want to be sure you won’t get off easy, that’s all.”

“Getting off is plenty easy with the right help.”

The roll of your eyes doesn’t hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. She cackles at the sight. You don’t attempt to muster a glare, convinced it would only amuse her further.

“What is your plan for protecting the borders?”

Her eyes still twinkle with amusement. You’re not sure what is so funny.

“Protecting the borders is a little difficult since she’s within them, dear, but I can exclude that section from my wards if it pleases you.”

“How?”

“We do not have time for you to learn the basics of casting.”

“Fine,” You sigh, “but I want the wards handled discreetly.”

“I’m not all explosions and smoke-clouds—that was only to get your attention.” She smirks.

“Is everything a joke to you?”

“Yes.”

Villages faced with the might of Agatha’s forces had once chosen between fighting or fleeing. Though some had made a third choice; hanging themselves from rafters at the whisper of impending invasion.

Monica had gone to pay respects in your place, once. When she returned, she had requested three days leave. The look in her eye she returned with has never gone away.

It’s been weeks since the threat of Agatha was settled; what would the people do if they caught wind of another war on the horizon?

Agatha sighs, as if reading the thoughts on your face, “I will be discreet. Best interests of the kingdom, remember?”

“I want to go with you.”

“That is the opposite of discreet.”

“We’ll go under the cover of night—”

“I know you’re woefully uneducated in the ways of witchcraft, but the weight of transporting two beings and setting wards of the size we’ll require? Too much, even for me.”

“There has to be a way. Please.”

The hard lines of her face soften just so. Her blue eyes are contemplative, seeing more than you would like.

“Two of the sites are on our way. The others I’ll handle alone—a sudden tour of the borders might raise a few suspicions.” 

You deflate. Something within you that had once been ready to argue turns to liquid, slithering around your heart, tugging on all the little strings that make your eyes water.

“Thank you.” You say. 

“Don’t thank me yet.”

[persephoneflowerpetals]

Hey, this might seem like a silly question, and you might have answered it before, but what do you think the Disney Villains favorite animals are/would be? This is just opinion based, and I’m just curious.

Aw, no it’s not silly!! Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a Disney villains headcanons-ish ask before so I haven’t been asked this yet lol!

Now, I won’t go through the ENTIRE list of villains, but I’ll go through the ones I know well enough to come up with an answer lol!

Obviously, I’m gonna start with my main babe lmao

Hades: Dogs, hydras, dragons, griffins

Ursula: Electric eels (she loves her little poopsies lol!)

Cruella: Well, she’s not exactly an “animal lover” but if we’re talking furs lol, then I’d say mink, fox, and Dalmatian

Maleficent: Ravens, dragons

Jafar: Parrots (sorta lol, he’s got mixed opinions about Iago), snakes

Dr. Facilier: Spiders and probably certain reptiles or amphibians like newts and skinks (not frogs though lol for obvious reasons)

Captain Hook: This was a hard one lmao! This might sound kinda odd, but I think he’d really like betta fish, they’re small and harmless sea creatures (well, they’re fresh water fish but still lol) and they’re very pretty, he also seems like a cat person to me lol

Evil Queen (Queen Grimhilde): Ravens, crows, vultures

Gaston: Same with Cruella, he’s not really an “animal lover” but I’d say deer because he likes to hunt them the most and maybe lions because of those very regal and majestic lion skins (he gets along well with Scar 😂)

Lady Tremaine: Cats

Shan Yu: Falcons

Oogie Boogie: Literally any kind of bug lol

Mother Gothel: Hawks and possibly butterflies? Idk I get butterfly vibes from her lol

Hans: Horses

[cappycodeart]

"The dead one! Yeah I haven't thought about her in a long time!"

A little theory I've had about Winter King's original motives based on his heartless comment about Betty and Ice King's original motives for kidnapping princesses in the first place...... clearly she gave off Bad Ex Vibes…

[justaz]

king merlin after meeting lady guinevere and sir lancelot’s baby and falling in love: arthur. i want a baby.

king arthur, not looking up from his paperwork: …what?

merlin: give me a baby.

arthur, sighing: merlin, you studied to be a physician. i don’t think i have to be the one to tell you how impractical that is.

merlin, rolling his eyes: this is why i’m the brighter side of the coin

arthur, finally looking up: wha-

queen merlin using magic to transform her body: i. want. a. baby.

arthur:

arthur:

arthur: *stands up from his desk so fast his chair topples over, multiple parchments flutter to the ground, his tunic is already off*

[gauntletqueen]

Do y'all let Fennecqueen have soda or is that explicitly a Big Girl drink

Decided to try channeling the askblogs of yore with this one

[rottentricks]

Could you draw child Jax playing with his mom Queenie?

Mama and bby 💜