#to be going through all this over years while also being a queen?? ruling and making appearances and being in public?

[mmogurl]

Last to Fall Chapter 1 - My Demons

18+ | 10k | Aegon II Targaryen X Female Maid / Dragonseed Reader | miserable, alcoholic, often dissociative, needs comfort Aegon | virgin reader, maiden, emotional abuse, first time sex, P in V, smut, wholesome, fluff, this whole thing is actually kind of sweet compared to what I usually write.

This fic is heavily inspired by the infamous 'Nothing' scene with Aegon and Alicent. Her cold words and the way she lashes out really bothered me and I felt a strong need to stand up for him, protect, and console him. So that's really what this whole fic is about. Enjoy! Also went with a lot of musical vibing for this story. I started off listening to Collective Soul's Heavy, because I imagine it as Aegon's state of mind in the opening scene towards everyone and everything happening. And by the end we transition into Starset's Last to Fall - and the title of the fic. I know, I'm a sappy mf.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 On AO3

Retroactive update 10/29/24: I've also decided that I'm going to try my best to fit every chapter to a Starset song because the whole Series is based off the title of one (Last to Fall) which was originally going to be a oneshot and got extended. I'm enjoying the challenge of finding one that suits each theme/ story! They're not all going to be perfectly aligned, but I'll try my best. This one is Starset - My Demons adding onto the two songs I already referenced here - but this one just felt so perfect!

Complicate this world you wrapped for me I'm acquainted with your suffering

All your weight it falls on me It brings me down All your weight it falls on me It falls on me

~Collective Soul - Heavy

—You

You have worked in the castle for as long as you can remember, always hearing the whisperings of the chamberlain, the laundress, and any other keep staff prone to gossip, that you were the late king’s bastard. There were always underhanded comments of jealousy uttered in your direction, like ‘It must be nice to have a king’s blood runnin’ through yer veins... To have yer needs met for life.’ In truth, you were worried that the Queen Dowager might see fit to dispose of you now that her husband had passed.

So far, it seems your fair looks, expertise, and agreeable demeanor has secured your position, at least for the time being, but you are not so naive as to think that will last forever.

You tended to King Viserys for six summers, and with his death you’ve been reassigned to serve the new Protector of the Realm, Aegon II Targaryen. You are mildly concerned about this development considering the rumors you’ve heard about the young prince over the years. Drinking and philandering to excess, he was rumored to be a true hedonist, only taking satisfaction when drowning himself in pleasure. It is for this very reason, that you’re surprised by your observations of your new lord within the first weeks of your employ as his chambermaid and general attendant.

You find he spends a lot of time sitting in near darkness with barely a couple candles lit in his room at night, kept company only by a carafe of wine and wearing a disassociated look on his face that could be taken for misery if it didn’t appear so apathetic in nature. It was as though he were actively trying to force himself into a mold that he would never fit into. This became even more apparent as you witnessed more of his interactions with his family, especially his mother and grand-sire. It seemed they were constantly trying to orchestrate the ruling of the Seven Kingdoms, nitpicking at every little decision Aegon made, pulling his strings just like a puppet.

You had listened from the sidelines of the Great Hall as the Hand second-guessed the king’s rulings. Even when the Aegon tried to embrace his seat upon the Iron Throne, he was made impotent by those not fit to govern. You could do nothing but stand by helplessly in saddened silence when he suffered the loss of his eldest son to assassins, while Otto Hightower forced him to parade young Jaehaerys’ corpse to the public along with his grief-stricken sister-wife, Helaena.

Day by day, your heart was beginning to ache for the emptiness you saw growing behind his amethyst eyes. And yet still he tried on most days to put a positive foot forward, even if by nightfall he usually turned back to engulfing his sorrows in drink. You couldn’t even blame him really given the complete lack of moral and emotional support the king had to endure.

This feeling of compassion built within you, until one day it peaked to a head as you made your way to Aegon’s chambers with fresh linens in hand, ready to fulfill your afternoon chores. You passed several Kingsguard as you made your way down the hall and paused outside the king’s rooms as you heard voices coming from within. The two white cloaks standing watch at the open threshold glanced at you in warning, so you simply waited with folded bedsheets in hand for the opportunity to complete your duties.

You knew you should not listen, but it was hard to ignore the distressed voice of the king from within, met by the indifferent attitude of the Queen Dowager. Oh no, you think to yourself sympathetically, she is at it again. It really did seem that tearing Aegon down piece by piece was not only a habit for his mother, but something she relished in.

“Do you think simply wearing the crown imbues you with wisdom,” Alicent’s voice echoed out against the vaulted ceiling of the room, her voice patronizing and condescending. “Those men at your council table earned their seats. It was my hope that once enthroned you would honor the burden of your new duties, be silent, and strive to learn from the more studied minds around you. In the hope that you might be half the king your father was…”

You tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat at hearing such baleful words. The king was not responding, and you could just imagine the pained look of agony that Aegon was sure to be wearing under the constant criticisms he faced as of late.

“Tread carefully,” you heard him say, barely carrying enough volume to hear from where you stood. You found yourself holding back a smile at that, happy that he was standing up to her for once. But, that only incensed the Queen Dowager more, her thirst to harm not yet quenched.

“Or what?” she says with venom coating her tongue. “You’ll hang me, as you did your rat catchers? Or have me banished as you did your Hand? I ruled in your father’s absence throughout his long illness, and Otto Hightower was as cunning a statesman as ever lived. You should humbly be seeking our opinions and counsel. You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne.”

You shook your head, unsure how any mother could ever speak to her child in such a manner, let alone to the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps it bothered you so because you had never known the tenderness of a mother’s love, but had spent many a daydream imagining what it might be like. With your idealistic and sometimes naive mind, you wanted to think that there was more love out there in the world than this, especially within the royal family. You wanted better for the young king you had grown to feel so protective of in such a short amount of time.

Aegon’s next words break your train of thought, “Wha-“ he started with an exasperated tone, “What would you have me do, Mother?”

“Do simply what is needed of you,” she replied and the frosty chill of her cold voice was evident even from the corridor. “Nothing.”

You feel tears well up in the corners of your eyes and try your best to ignore them. It was important as part of the castle staff to never appear to be listening, to always remain professional, but it wasn’t always possible when one was witness to such cruelty.

Quickly, you wipe the errant tears away as the Queen Dowager exits her son’s apartment, walking swiftly with a scowl on her face. With the king now alone in his chambers, you nod to the guards and head inside, pausing to close the doors behind you lest Aegon had wont of some privacy.

As you turned to face the room, the king sat off to the side of his table, leaning against the back of a chair, his head resting upon his hands in defeat. He did not stir as you entered and so you cleared your throat to let yourself be known. Aegon still made no move and so this time you spoke up.

“Your Grace, might I change the linens? Or should I come back later?” you ask, your voice hesitant, but filled with understanding.

He finally lifts his head, glancing at you for a moment before returning his attention to the nearly empty decanter of wine on the table.

“Fetch me some more wine instead,” he demands sullenly, and to this you nod and hurry off to fulfill his request. After what you’d heard him endure, you’d do just about anything to cheer him up now.

With a speed you did not think yourself capable, you retrieved, not just one, but two pitchers of strongwine for the king and prepared a small platter of snacks for him as well, consisting of cheese, crackers, figs, and grapes. You hoped he’d be pleased with your thoughtfulness, and sure enough, he did perk up a little at the sight of the tray you presented on the table before him.

Aegon got to his feet, walking around the chair he’d been leaning against and sitting in it instead. You filled his chalice and placed it before him, wearing an exaggerated smile upon your face, anything to lighten the onerous mood. The king surprises you when he actually notices, his composure faltering as he looks upon your benevolent countenance.

“Did you hear all of that then?” he asks, his jaw clenching slightly as he peers down at the crimson fluid within the cup before him.

“It is not my business, Your Grace,” you answer softly, not wanting to sound cold, but knowing it is not your place to comment on such things. “But, if I can do anything, or get anything more for you. Please just ask.”

“I never wanted to be be king, you know,” Aegon says abruptly, picking up the chalice and swirling the wine around inside it. “They hunted me down, forced me to be crowned… And yet, Mother tells me I do not deserve it, even though she has placed me upon the throne herself.”

You flounder with your words, uncertain of how to reply. Should you even say anything at all? Perhaps he just wants someone to listen who won’t respond with a scathing rebuke.

“She spoke of the rat catchers, bringing up the death of my eldest son as though it were nothing to me,” he continues without your input, staring into the contents of his chalice as though it might hold some insight. “She treats me as though I am nothing.”

He finally takes a long swig of the cup, emptying most of it in one gulp. Aegon sets it down on the table with a clatter of metal and wood, an almost despondent look on his face as he adds, “Perhaps I am nothing.”

“Your Grace, no! That is not true!” the words slip out, unable to hold back your feelings at his self-denigration. You immediately cover your mouth with startled surprise, knowing that you’ve overstepped.

Aegon halts, his shoulders tensing as his eyes drift up to you and his brow furls downwards in confusion. He regards you in earnest for what feels like the first time ever, his discerning gaze sweeping from your face, down to your skirts and back up again, sizing you up. “What would you know of it?”

You bite your lip anxiously, unsure of how to proceed, even though it seems by now that you’ve already gone past the point of returning to obscurity. Ultimately, you decide that if you’re going to lose your position within the Red Keep, that you’d prefer to let the king know how you feel first.

“I have seen how determined you are,” you say quietly, a lack of confidence in your voice as you address the king. “Even though it is obvious how much hardship you must abide.”

“I am the king. I do not abide anything,” he replies gruffly, but there’s no tooth in the words.

“Of course, Your Grace,” you reply as you cast your eyes downward, your posture stiffening as you stand more upright, waiting for the hammer of discipline to fall.

There is a pervasive silence that hangs heavy in the expansive chamber as you wait for the king to cast his verdict. Does he intend to overlook your impertinence or will he punish you severely?

You hear the trickle of liquid pouring and then the glass carafe clattering against the wood of the table. The sound of swallowing is audible, followed by Aegon’s lips smacking softly as he puts the chalice back down.

“Come here, girl,” he says suddenly in a low monotone.

You look up once more, hesitating; your eyes questioning as you try to understand his intentions, his expression inscrutable.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” he reiterates, his tone a little more firm, yet without the sound of malicious intent. “Come here.”

You gulp and step gingerly towards Aegon, standing before him as he sits in the high-back chair. “Yes, Your Grace?” you ask with an uncertain look on your face.

The king startles you when he turns his chair to face you, his hands wrapping around your waist as he pulls you towards him in one fluid motion. Before you even realize what is happening, Aegon has his face buried against your stomach while his fingers dig into the fabric of your dress at the small of your back.

For a moment you stand there frozen in shock, your arms out as if in surrender, unsure of how to respond or interpret this intimate gesture. But then, you feel his shoulders shake quietly, and it's that movement that clues you in to the nature of the king's actions. He is crying, albeit in his own restrained way.

Slowly, you lower your hands down, one resting on his back as the other smooths his white locks back against his scalp. You can feel him melt into your affectionate touch, his entire body slumping forward even as he continues to whimper quietly into your apron.

“Shh,” you say softly, trying to comfort him in a way that feels somehow natural to you despite the gap in caste. “It will be alright.” You are not fully convinced that it will be, but the young king needs some reassurance and you know you are the only one likely to give it to him.

You have secretly longed for a moment such as this to occur for awhile now, wishing you had the opportunity to provide the king with some semblance of reprieve. When you served Viserys, he never seemed very troubled, and was almost willfully ignorant to the problems that plagued his family. Aegon on the other hand, was tormented not only by his mother, but by the pressure he put on himself to please everyone, which was an impossible feat.

To soothe Aegon now and hold him in your arms, felt like putting one of the many wrongs he’d endured right, even if it was only a small fraction of what the man was owed.

Your fingers rake through his wavy tresses and you feel a surge of raw emotion as you tend to the king’s needs in a way you never imagined you would. Soon, his shaky breaths and silent tears begin to cease, replaced by sniffles as you continue to soothe him in the way his mother should have been for all of these years. You can sense his reluctance to leave your embrace, but there’s also a shame weighing heavy in the air for confiding such weakness in a simple chambermaid.

He nuzzles his eyes against the fabric of your dress, wiping his tears on the brown cloth before he abruptly pulls away and clears his throat. Aegon avoids looking directly at you, embarrassment evident in his now red and puffy eyes. He lets out a heavy sigh and you’re left feeling quite dumbfounded as he turns back to his wine.

For a long moment there is a tense and overwhelming silence, the only sounds present in the room are the soft pouring of wine into Aegon’s chalice and the glass clinking as he sets the carafe down.

You stare at the side of his face, feeling a knot form in your stomach at the growing distance. It’s as if he’s punishing you for witnessing his vulnerability, desperate to maintain the barrier between king and servant. Despite his aversion, you can’t help but feel the significance of what you shared, the way he pulled you in and how good it felt to hold him close.

The quiet stretches on, Aegon now occupied with emptying his cup as if trying to fill the void with drink. He speaks up once more, his tone now devoid of any traces of the exposed emotion you just viewed.

"That will be all," his words are devoid of any warmth or familiarity. "I don't need anything more from you tonight." Aegon’s fingers tremble subtly as he brings his glass to his lips, betraying his cold facade.

“Your Grace,” you say in acceptance of his decision, bowing your head to show deference. You turn and glance at the linens still stacked on top of the king’s bed and fret for a moment that you will get in trouble for not fulfilling your duties and changing the sheets. “Should I change the bedsheets before I leave?”

Aegon doesn’t even turn to face you, his eyes fixed on his chalice. His expression is closed off, distant, as he responds with a simple grunt of confirmation.

“Yes, yes. Do whatever it is you usually do,” he mutters dismissively, his voice lacking any real feeling. He lifts his cup to his mouth once more, drowning himself in the bitter taste of the wine.

You nod with the typical words of respectful assent and begin making the bed as you always do, except this time it feels different. Today you flew so very close to the sun and felt your skin bask in its heat. The absence of that warmth now leaves you feeling chilly, an overwhelming nothing replacing the typical humdrum of your chores. You can feel his presence in the room like a beacon calling you to shore, but you dare not approach him again.

When you finish your task, you leave the king’s chambers without saying a word, closing the door behind you as silently as you can.

For the next few days, the typical royal indifference that Aegon shows you is substituted for complete and utter disregard. He at least showed you a degree of quiet appreciation before, but now it seems he’s going out of his way to make it known that you do not exist to him. Aegon always keeps his eyes turned from you and makes no acknowledgment of your proximity, giving the impression that you are little more than a ghost.

Gone is the care-free spirit that the king usually possesses, always trying to pretend that he is happier than he actually is, at least when you are around him. It seems that Aegon erects a wall of guarded apathy the moment he becomes aware of you, sometimes so severe that you can actually see him transition into a frown at your approach.

You find yourself slinking around quietly whenever you must occupy his room at the same time that he is present. The mornings are especially tense, when you must bring breakfast and fresh wash water for his basin. Sometimes, you feel his eyes on you when you’re preoccupied with adding wood to and stoking the fire, but you try your best to ignore it since you can’t make heads or tails of his behavior.

For the most part, you attempt to finish the majority of your duties once the king has left for the day and not before that point. You hope that in time, the king will forget about what transpired between the two of you, and that everything will revert back to how it was.

—Aegon

Aegon has made a concerted effort to maintain his frosty disposition towards you. It’s a constant battle between his heart, which secretly admires and yearns for you, and his head, which refuses to acknowledge the vulnerability he allowed you to witness. Even still, he can’t help but feel a slight pang of sadness whenever you try to slip in and out of his chambers undetected, nor can he control the surge of resentment when he feels that he might need you in any way.

The king simply doesn’t know what to make of the tangle of emotions that twist inside of him whenever he sees your face. It’s as if the memory of his shortcomings and your comforting embrace is a fresh wound that refuses to heal. He wants to shove you from his mind, but your image is permanently branded on the backs of his eyelids.

Even his nights have become restless, with no amount of drink or pleasure helping to ease his troubled heart. In fact, he’d already tried visiting one of his favorite brothels, dragging along his drunken friends for the chance to brag at how loud he could make the women scream. He was so distracted by thoughts of you that he couldn’t even stay hard and had to call it a night without release, defeated even by the the carefree abandon of a whore’s cunt.

The only thing that helps him drift off to sleep lately is recalling the moment he shared with you, and imagining how it might have gone differently if he had not pulled away from you. His hand enveloping his rigid cock, stroking it eagerly as he envisions what it would be like to reach under your skirts and feel the heat at the apex of your thighs. The resulting climax is strong, but it always leaves him feeling ashamed and guilty afterwards, as though he’s given into an urge worse than the crudest of debaucheries.

It’s becoming more and more obvious, that no matter how much he denies himself, he wants you in an unbearable way. He wants to reach out to you, wants to apologize and thank you for your soothing care. He wants those arms wrapped around him once again, that gentle hand running through his hair. He wants to confess all of his troubles to you. How he is tired of being treated like a child, of being scolded and slapped around by his mother, and never being taken seriously by his own small council. Aegon wants to hear the solutions you might propose to his growing list of problems, instead of relying on the wine that he drinks to excess more often as the days pass, an answer that he knows is mere avoidance.

And so, the king finds himself at a crossroad, facing a decision that can’t simply remain unsettled. He can either choose to embrace his feelings for you and allow himself the chance of experiencing the compassion he so badly craves, or he can continue to repress those feelings and bury them under the weight of his own self loathing and fear.

At the end of another long and monotonous day, he finds himself sitting at the end of his table in the very same chair where he had shared a moment of weakness with you. He sighs as he pours himself another cup of wine, the burgundy liquid not doing much to take the edge off tonight.

He shivers slightly as gooseflesh erupts over his pale skin. Glancing out the window, he can see that the skies are grayer than usual and that autumn is settling in over King’s Landing. Aegon begins to worry as he considers the already dwindling food supply and the civil war that is ravaging what little they have left. His grand-sire and mother both seem to be ignoring the constant plight of the commonfolk, but he’s spent enough time amongst them to know that revolt might loom on the horizon.

The large wooden doors to his chamber suddenly open and his attention is drawn from the window, snapped to the form now entering the room. It is you, his chambermaid, carrying a bundle of blankets. You stop dead in your tracks as you notice him sitting in the dwindling light of the gloaming hour.

“Sorry to disturb, Your Grace,” you offer sheepishly. “I didn’t know you had already retired for the day.”

Aegon turns his chair outwards, sitting sideways as he leans an elbow against the table and lifts his cup to his lips, taking a sip of his favorite sweet Arbor red. He doesn’t acknowledge your apology, and instead regards you with a steadfast gaze as he tries to hide his conflicting feelings.

“What is it?” he asks, his tone tinged with disinterest.

“It’s supposed to be chilly tonight,” you answer with a soft voice. “I wanted to bring you some extra blankets and build the fire up so that you are comfortable.”

“Hm,” he grunts, taking another swig of his wine. He doesn’t respond more than that and simply watches as you begin to lay two massive quilts upon his bed, then approach the fireplace to add more wood and stoke the flames. Even now you were doing your best to take good care of him, doting on him as though he were your very own husband.

He can’t help but discreetly study the shape of your body as you kneel before the mantle, appreciating the way the firelight projects shadows over your kneeling figure. The flickering orange light bounces off your face and he can’t help but notice the softness of your features, the curve of your cheek and lips. As you rise back to your feet and turn to face him, he’s finally made his decision.

Perhaps it is time to lay these fears to rest.

He sighs softly, his shoulders slumping somewhat with the release of breath, as he gestures to the chair across from him.

“Sit,” his word is quiet, almost a whisper.

You look at him perplexed as though you did not hear him properly, an apprehension soon settling in as you hesitate to respond.

There is an air of determination in his eyes as he nods once more, encouraging you to sit. His voice now holds a trace of insistence as he shifts in his seat, sitting upright as he repeats himself. “I said sit.” Aegon points at the empty chair once more, his gesture sharper this time.

You oblige him swiftly at that, taking a seat in the ornately carved high-back chair, your legs are pressed together and your hands fidget awkwardly on your lap. Aegon reaches forward and grabs an empty chalice from the silver tray before him, pouring you a glass of wine.

“Here,” he says, his voice strangely calm in your presence now that he has finally given in to his wishes. He hands you the cup across the table, his fingers brushing against yours for just the briefest of moments. He relishes in the heat of your touch, no matter how fleeting, and offers a clumsy smile. “Have a drink with me.”

You take the chalice reluctantly, the anxiety of such taboo evident in your expression. Aegon knew it was unheard of for the staff to share a drink with members of the royal family, but it was also not typical for the king to be denied anything he desired either.

“T-thank you, Your Grace,” you offer appreciatively.

Aegon settles back into his chair, his posture becoming more relaxed as he spreads his legs. He takes comfort in the fact that no matter how much he has tried to avoid you, that you still humbly show him gratitude. That small act of polite civility has him convinced that what he is attempting will not end in rejection.

He raises his cup and toasts to you, a courtesy which seems so simple and yet holds so much significance when coming from a king. “To your service.” His eyes gleam in the fading light of day, bright with unspoken promise.

“I don’t even know what to say, Your Grace,” you squeak out in embarrassment, your face impossibly red as you direct your gaze away from him.

He can feel his confidence returning as he sees the flush of color bloom on your cheeks. It’s a sign that his attention is not entirely unwelcome, and that thought alone is enough to make his heart beat steadily in his chest.

Aegon leans forward, trying to capture your attention once more, his eyes pleading for you to look at him again. After so much time evading this very situation, he now feels hungry for it.

“You don’t have to say anything at all,” he reassures you, his tone softened but with a hint of authority as he motions for you to drink your wine.

Without wavering, you grasp the heavy brass chalice in your hands and with courage etched in your features, take a long draught of the Arbor red.

As you drink, Aegon raises an eyebrow in mild surprse, watching as you take a rather ambitious swig of strongwine. He finds he’s actually impressed with your ability, and his expression soon transforms into a smirk of amusement.

He takes a sip from his own chalice before setting it back down on the table. “You drink deeper than many of my knights, I can tell you that,” he jests with a good-humored ease, testing the boundaries of this fledgling dynamic.

Your cheeks blush once more although this time it is likely due to the wine as well as your timidity. “This is much better than the swill the staff typically has access to,” you offer almost apologetically, as though it were not proper for you to imbibe in your spare time.

The admission has the corners of his mouth curling into a grin once more, and a breathy laugh escapes his lips. It’s clear now that the two of you are finally making progress, the barrier of propriety quickly falling away as it typically did with drink.

“So you mean to say you enjoy good wine, yes?” he teases lightly, tapping his fingertips against the edge of his cup, his gaze focused on you, eager to see your reaction.

“I am enjoying it, yes,” you say with bright eyes, your guilt beginning to fade away with each sip of sweet wine you take.

Aegon can sense the increased ease in your demeanor, and is delighted by the sight of it. He knows that the alcohol has broken through the tension that’s been building between the two of you for days now and he plans to take full advantage of it, feeling even bolder in his pursuit of you.

“Good,” he replies gladly, feeling content with the newfound freedom he’s allowed himself. “Then have some more,” Aegon adds, his tone light and playful as he pushes the decanter of wine closer to you, encouraging you to fill your own cup. He can feel a pleasant buzzing in his head from the strongwine, and can tell that you aren’t far behind him.

“Is Your Grace trying to get me drunk?” you ask, a surprising riposte that he didn’t expect from you.

The question has Aegon laughing aloud, the sound hearty and full of mirth. He leans closer, sliding his elbow further along the table as he offers you a grin. That little spark of humor you show only heightens his own sense of urgency to be in your arms once more.

The king rests his chin on his fist, and raises a brow at you with a mischievous grin. “And what if I was?” he replies playfully.

“Then I’d have to ask to what aim?” you say holding onto your cup, your finger tracing the circular rim of it.

Aegon’s gaze is drawn to your fingers, following the movement as his pulse quickens. He can hear your question, but it fails to register fully as he’s momentarily lost in a daydream of those same fingers running across his skin. His mouth goes dry and his skin feels hot. He finds he must take another large draught of wine to calm the sudden surge of longing that courses through him.

“Well,” he says, his tone feigning seriousness. “Perhaps I intend to get you drunk so I might take advantage of you.”

Aegon is surprised when you chuckle in response to his daring assertion, having expected more of a demure reaction instead. “You would not have to ply me with wine for that,” you admit, lowering your head slightly as though realizing how direct your words had been a little too late.

His eyes go temporarily wide as he registers your brazen honesty, wondering if he’d even heard you correctly. “Do you jest with your king, girl?” he asks incredulously.

“No,” she offers adamantly, with all the defiance of a loyal hound. “I’m afraid I’d be quite willing.”

“Is that so?” Aegon says more for his own confirmation than to communicate it, his eyebrow raising with dubious intent.

His stiffening cock was becoming uncomfortable in his taut breeches and he couldn’t help but consider the irony that such an innocent encounter had taken on an incredibly sexual nature. The comfort you had offered him becoming like an intoxicating fuel to his loins, making you far more attractive than any other woman could ever possibly be in his eyes.

“And what would you be willing to do in order to satisfy your king?” he prods further, feeling confident that he has the upper hand now. His desire to claim everything you have to offer now undeniable.

“I-I,” you begin to stutter nervously, clearly not expecting such a blunt response from him. “What is it you wish of me?”

Aegon let’s out a sharp huff of delight at the question you pose. To his great joy it seems you truly don’t realize the effect you have over him right now. He stands from his chair, sending it backwards with the backs of his thighs. His legs then carry him around the corner of the table until he’s towering above you, looking down upon your trembling form with a burning hunger.

“The real question is.. What don’t I desire of you?” he poses the question with a lurid tone as he thumbs the neckline of your bodice. “I believe you’ll find me quite insatiable in my needs.”

You’re frozen in his sights, appraising him with frightened doe-eyes, but there is no mistaking the undercurrent of lust also hidden right below the surface. Likely, the only true trepidation you have is the thought of performing such acts out of wedlock, but it seems obvious to Aegon at least, that you should have no concerns when offering your virtue up to a king. And given the poorly state of mind he’s been in as of late and desperate weakness he has for you, it’s possible you might even be assisting in the betterment of the realms.

“You’re speechless,” he hums softly, running the back of his knuckles over your bare collarbone. “Don’t worry, I will do the talking,” he says with a smirk, delighted to hear that he sounds every bit the authoritative ruler he should. “Take my hands,” he commands softly, reaching down as he grasps you and encourages you to rise from your chair.

When you obligingly follow his orders and rise before him, Aegon then guides you, leading you towards the bed. He stops once the backs of your knees hit the wooden frame, which is now padded by many layers of newly laid quilts, and turns you away from him. His hands carefully unfasten your apron, tossing it over the footboard before he starts to work at untying the laces of your dress. He loosens them swiftly until your bodice hangs slack.

He’s very well practiced in the art of removing a woman’s clothing, whether they be a whore, a noblewoman, or even a servant as is your case. Still, he holds a certain fondness for you, a consideration that he does not offer readily to most of his conquests. You have given him something so valuable, a treasure that no other has even thought to bestow upon him, and he means to reward you well for it.

Aegon finally removes your dress, pulling it over your head and placing it on top of the apron. All that remains now is a long sleeved undershirt, a slightly more drab version of the sort all women wore under their dresses. He’d like to rip it from your body, but you’ve stirred up such tenderness within his empty heart that he is loathe to treat you in such a way.

Instead, he turns you to face him once more and takes a step back to regard you. “You truly are beautiful,” he states with a sort of quiet awe. He had never really noticed you before and he most definitely should have. What with your cornsilk blond hair and bright blue eyes. Was he really so oblivious to the people and the world around him that he couldn’t even notice such a stunning, caring maiden working directly under his nose? Had he always been avoiding any state of mental clarity and missed so much in the process of hiding from himself?

You look at him nervously, your body antsy as you shift uneasily, precariously balanced on the edge of the mattress.

“Sit,” he tells you in a hushed tone, not quite wanting to sound as bossy as he does, but trying to relieve you of your discomfort. He takes another step back once you have complied, his gaze now roaming your body, taking in the sight of you, or at least what he can see in that loose potato sack of a frock you’re wearing. Aegon can definitely make out some of your feminine curves though, the slope of your shoulder incredibly pleasing as is the way your breasts protrude noticeably through the fabric, and so too do your wide hips.

He smiles warmly at you, his eyes taking their time to appreciate the woman before him. He can’t help but ponder in this moment, how he’s never felt this way before, a lust that isn’t just physical in nature, but somehow more genuine. Aegon is no stranger to carnal pleasures and strongly desires to claim you in every way possible. But there is something more present in his heart as well, the wish to hold you close and protect you from the entire world, and to in turn be sheltered by you from the chaos of the Iron Throne.

Aegon decides then that he wants your first time together to be gentle, just as it was when you first came together. He closes the distance between the two of you and reaches out with both hands, grabbing softly on either side of your shoulders. Your soft, supple flesh gives pleasingly beneath his fingers as he guides you to lay down on top of the blankets. As you scoot backwards across the width of the bed, he can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction that you were finally in his bed and no longer a fantasy inside his mind.

Once you’ve nestled into the plushness beneath you, he steps back again, his fingers making quick work of removing his woolen doublet. A flush of excitement blooms across his alabaster skin as he makes a show of the action, enjoying the way you watch him with such focused anticipation. He casts the garment to the floor, now removing his boots as swiftly as he can.

With his breeches already half undone and his chest exposed beneath a simple linen shirt, he is gifted with the sight of you lying in his bed in wait. The image is far more pleasant, far more intimate, than any other woman he has ever taken to bed. Your warmth radiates outward like a blazing fire and by now he is desperate to feel your heat directly. He practically rips his undershirt off, flinging it sideways across the covers.

Aegon makes his way back to you, lifting one knee up onto the mattress and crawling over the entire length of your body until he is face to face with you. His hand cradles your jaw tenderly, caressing up and down until his fingers slip up into your long, flowing tresses.

His intense, violet eyes fix upon yours, looking for any hesitation, but he sees none. It was as though you had been given to him as a gift from the gods, you who always gave and never took from him. There is a vulnerability in his expression that is rarely visible, replacing his usual display of smugness.

He maneuvers his breeches down without much effort, kicking them off once they’re low enough. Now fully settled into the valley of your spread legs, Aegon then grips the hem of your shift, lifting it up your thighs until he feels your body tense. He glances up at you and sees a pang of worry present that is perfectly normal, especially for a maiden.

The king asks the question he’s sure he already knows the answer to. “Have you done this before?”

You shake your head no as a blush of pink covers your cheeks and you bite your lip with pent up longing. Even with your inexperience and worry, he can tell how eager you are regardless. Much like he had been warring with his own thoughts about pursuing more with his chambermaid, you seem torn between your fears and your desires as well.

Aegon smiles sincerely, brushing his thumb gently along your lower lip, before leaning down to give you a chaste kiss. It was a bit of a selfish wish of his that you were untainted by any other man, and a part of him was happy to hear that you were indeed a virgin. It made him revel in delight; knowing you were his alone, that he’d be your first and your last if he had any say in it.

“Relax,” he whispered parting from your lips. “I’ll go slowly.” Aegon gazes at you again, wondering if this is perhaps too much for you, too soon. “That is if you still wish to.”

A look of panic crosses your face, as though you’re worried he might stop. “N-No! I still want to!” you affirm urgently. Your hands wrap around his back, pulling him closer to you, seemingly unwilling to let him go.

The king can barely contain his elation as he presses his forehead to yours, chuckling slightly at your eagerness. His hand slips beneath your undershirt and he slowly strokes the soft skin of your stomach, his fingers grazing over the warm plains of your flesh. Aegon’s breath hitches as he travels higher up your abdomen, finding the pliant curve of your breast.

You moan softly beneath his greedy touch, your body writhing with fervor, and your hips rising impatiently to meet him. Any question he had that you might not be fully keen about this joining was now all but diffused by your enthusiasm.

“You make such pretty sounds,” he teases playfully, feeling a sense of satisfaction at how responsive you are to his touch. He gives your breast a firm squeeze, then teases over the sensitive areola before cupping the whole mound again. His cock throbs painfully against the mattress, still bound by his smallclothes and yearning to sink into your heat.

His pulse pounds with expectation, finally feeling a sense of relief from the pent up desire he’s held for you all of this time. Aegon removes his hand from under your shift, propping himself up on the bed as he reaches down to unlace his braie. His hand brushes against your core in the process and he shivers at the feel of how wet you already are for him.

With his stiff length finally freed, he ventures a finger along your folds, growling at the silky slickness of your center. “Gods,” he utters with a groan. His cock twitches with need as he tests the tightness of your cunny, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as he imagines thrusting into you with his thick member instead of his digit.

“Are you ready for me, girl?” he asks eagerly, the question a soft inquiry as well as a warning of the impending pain his intrusion is likely to cause. At this point, he feels more like a lovesick boy than the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, his suspense heavy as he drapes your leg around his his hip, opening you more to him. He positions his head at your entrance and presses himself closer to you.

You nod, never taking your eyes off of him as you wrap your hands around his back. Aegon rests his weight on his elbows, covering you completely as he kisses you with tenderness. He tries to express everything he feels for you with actions instead of words, his lips hungrily devouring yours with passion. Without breaking the kiss, he begins to ease into you slowly, immediately feeling the resistance of your still in tact virtue.

His arms slide down, gripping your hips on each side tightly as his chest presses into yours. You let out a whimper into his mouth as he breaches your depths, your thighs clenching against his body at the sharp pain of his invasion. It doesn’t take long for you to relax again, your walls suddenly more welcoming as the sting subsides.

Aegon parts from your lips, pulling back slightly so he can look down at you. A smirk forms on his face as he sees your lurid expression and he begins to move, his hips rolling against yours in a slow, sensual rhythm. His hands slide down to your thighs, spreading them further apart as he thrusts himself deeper inside you. He groans with overwhelming pleasure at the feel of you, his head falling forward as he picks up the pace.

He kisses you again, forcing his tongue into your mouth as he continues to move inside of you. His tongue dances with yours as he begins to lose control, his hips snapping against you with intensity. Aegon can feel his release approaching quickly, unable to hold back for much longer, he tries to hasten you along to satisfaction. His hand slides up your shift once more, squeezing your breast and tweaking your delicate nipple until it pebbles between his fingers.

You squirm under him, incapable of holding still as he drives into you with increased enthusiasm. The king grinds his hips into you relentlessly, grimacing at the way your walls tighten around his cock like a vice. Aegon’s grip on your tit becomes harder, flipping between gripping and tweaking your sensitive nipple. His lips withdraw abruptly, his mouth searching out your other breast and nipping it through your undershirt.

He grins against the cloth as you cry out loudly, your body rigid as your climax rolls over you and soon he can feel it wash over his length as well. But, he can’t take it anymore, not how tight you are or how creamy your release feels on his tender cockhead. It’s all too much and within a moment he is gripping hard to your flesh and burying himself deep within you, his spend erupting in spurts from his pulsing member.

“Fuuuccck,” he growls out, his hands finding their way beneath your back and pulling you towards him securely, trying to get even closer if that was at all possible.

You pant below him, trying to catch your breath as little spasms continue to twitch throughout your back and your thighs tremble against his hips. A warm, blissful calm settles over him as he nestles his face into the crook of your neck and inhales deeply of your scent. He feels pleasantly dizzy, his heartbeat finally slowing as the haze of lust subsides.

Aegon sighs into your ear, the tone content and relaxed. “That was incredible,” he murmured softly, his voice low as he gently runs his hand along the side of your cheek.

“It was,” is all you can manage to say, your breath still a bit ragged as you try to come down from the high.

Your hand finds its way into his white hair again, brushing up against the nape of his neck and causing him to shiver. He’s once again reminded of the shared encounter that started all of this and he’s overcome with a fondness that makes his chest ache.

Aegon feels closer to you in every possible way now and isn’t keen on the idea of parting from you, but he can feel his cock softening and the mess beginning to pool on the sheets. So he slowly pulls out of you, collapsing onto the bed at your side. He grabs one of his stray garments without looking, probably his smallclothes or maybe his shirt, and cleans up his seed from you first and then himself.

He adjusts towards the head of the bed, resting on his side against the pillows and reaching out for you to join him as he scuttles under the covers. “Come here,” he says softly, pained by the loss of her warmth.

As you get up and crawl towards him, he scoops you up into his arms. Aegon holds you close, his chin resting against the top of your head as he wraps the quilts around your form and presses himself tighter against your back. The king can no longer deny the depth and the power of his feelings for you as you cuddle in his arms. There’s a sense of deep security and comfort welling up within him, but any words seem inadequate in this moment.

Aegon kisses your temple, the doting gesture unlike anything he’s bestowed upon a lover before. “I think I’m going to sleep quite well tonight,” he muses into your hair, still cradling you in his arms.

“Are you sure it’s alright for me to stay with you? In your chambers?” you ask quietly with seemingly no clue how ridiculous he thinks you sound for asking such a thing.

His mouth twitches into a small smile and he lifts his chin to press another kiss into your hair.

“Of course. I’m the king. I can do whatever I want,” he quips playfully, his voice sounding drowsy and relaxed as he settles into the plushness of the bed. “Now, come. Get your rest. You’re going to need it.” There is a gentle warning present in his tone that you do not seem to catch, that he intends to have more of you in the morning.

You nod, twisting your back towards the mattress until you’re facing him. The expression you give him is enough to make his heart melt, those big, blue eyes like deep pools filled with bottomless love and devotion. You wrap your hand behind his neck and pull him close for a kiss, a request he’s more than happy to oblige.

Your mouth is sweet and hot against his and he can’t help but to lick the line of your lower lip before parting from you. Aegon settles you back into place, his chest enveloping your smaller frame as he holds you possessively. He feels such solace in the close proximity of your body, his limbs toasty warm as he falls into a deep state of relaxation. He’s not even aware of when the moment he falls asleep, it happens so quickly.

—Aegon

When the first light of day streams through the window, Aegon finds his eyes drifting open and then closing again, not sure of what time it is, but too comfortable to want to move. His back feels incredibly warm with the slight dampness of sweat and he opens his lids once more to see your arm wrapped over his chest. He can feel your hot breath at his neck now that he’s paying attention fully and your leg slotted between his.

Aegon’s lips curl into a satisfied smile, basking in the near domestic feel of waking up like this with someone he actually cares for. He takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours as he rests his own arm on top of yours.

He tries to settle into his pillow once more, nuzzling his backside into you further and bending his knees more deeply. The peace is short lived though as the doors to his chamber fling open and he hears the startled gasp of a woman. It couldn’t be just any woman, like perhaps another maid come to clean his room in place of the one that never showed up for work. No, it had to be his mother, of all the people he did not wish to see this morning.

The king whips his head over his shoulder and squints in the direction of the door. His mother stands there with a hand over her mouth, frozen in horrified disbelief as though she’d just seen a ghost. Aegon grits his teeth, sitting up with a jolt, forced to realize just how compromising this situation must look with the way he was tangled in bed naked with you.

“No, no, no, no, no, Aegon!!” she practically screams at him and the sound jars you from your slumber. He wishes you could have stayed asleep, to have escaped the madness of his family for just a little longer.

Alicent picks up her skirts so she can walk swiftly around the bed and to his side, standing there with a judgmental sneer. “This is just like Diana, isn’t it!?” she cries hysterically. “Isn’t it!?” his mother prods him further.

Aegon looks back, catching your shifting uneasiness from his peripheral vision, then turns to his mother again, suddenly feeling very protective of you. You are innocent in all of this and should be afforded the ability to wake up from your first time making love in some semblance of calm, not to one of his mother’s outbursts. And of course the first thought she would have of him was that he had raped yet another servant girl. His mother was blissfully ignorant of everything he had done as a young man, except for the acts she felt the need to berate him for, even though she had never been around to offer any kind of proper guidance.

He lets out a groan of exasperation, running his fingers through his mussed hair and tries to think of an answer that might satisfy his fuming mother, but he knows this is a lost cause.

“No,” he denies, shaking his head as he avoids eye contact with her. There is no conviction in his tone, but it’s not like she would ever believe a thing he said on the matter.

“So it was consensual then?” the Dowager Queen asks glaring past Aegon and looking straight at you.

He glances to his side and sees you nod, but interrupts before you can say anything more. “You do not have to explain yourself to her,” he says in a much softer voice, trying to shield you from his mother.

“So, she’s just another one of your tramps then!” Alicent hisses with disgust. “Is it so hard for you to keep your hands off the staff? Can’t be bothered to go into the city anymore, you need to make sure you find your pleasure within the walls of the Red Keep?” Her words are vitriolic and hateful without any attempt to understand the situation.

“I should have gotten rid of your father’s little bastard when I had the chance. I should have known better that she would be too pretty for you to resist, but I was assured that the girl’s skills were tantamount to any risk,” she continued on her tirade, barking out every spiteful dagger she could think of.

“What of your wife!? How can you carry on like this!? Oblivious to the people you hurt!?” the Queen Dowager prattled on, not waiting for an answer, but seemingly wanting to preach her conclusions endlessly.

“You know Helaena’s fallen deep into sadness ever since Jaehaerys died. Ever since you forced her to endure that disgusting funeral procession through the streets of the city.. And it’s not like we ever had a deep connection even before that, Mother.” Aegon’s voice was bitter, resentful. He was sick and tired of this farce of familial love when she barely ever showed him any hint of it.

He’s incredibly shocked when he hears you speak up, your voice quiet, but accusing, even defensive, “You’re one to talk, Queen Dowager. You hurt Aegon more than any other.”

“How dare you! You insolent wretch!” his mother didn’t hesitate to bite back, her acrimony potent in the air. “You can consider your employ here ended. Gather your belongings and leave!” she looked at you impatiently, as though expecting you to stand immediately and go. “Now!” she snarled, her nose crinkled with anger.

“No,” the king interceded on your behalf, stilling you with his hand on your hip. “You will not go anywhere.”

“She absolutely will go! This is not acceptable behavior for any chambermaid in the employ of the royal family!” Alicent was insistent, with no sign of backing down, but Aegon had enough of this contest of wills.

“Mother!” he bellowed at her furiously, finally snapping back at her with conviction. “I am the king and you will obey me!”

That finally got her attention, for the first time in his entire life he saw a flash of fear in his mother’s eyes and it only emboldened him to continue.

“You will not do a thing to this girl. She is under my protection,” he added, his ruling absolute. “And if I find that you have touched her, hurt her in any way, then I will have you hung. Just like the rat catchers.”

Aegon’s lips curl upwards in smug satisfaction, finally realizing a fraction of the true power he held as sovereign of the realms. His mother did not respond, regarding him with silent malice, her glare ever testing the limits to see if he truly meant it. When she saw that he did, his mother backed down, her shoulder slumping slightly as she relented, but not before getting one last dig in.

“Very well, My King,” she mocked with false sincerity, giving him a sarcastic curtsy. “I will leave you to your dalliances. I should know better than to interrupt a man having his fun.” She left in a flurry of resentment, slamming the door behind her with a loud thud.

No matter how furious he was with his mother, she still remained his parent, the woman who gave him life, whom he loved and had once revered above all else. Even this victory he had over her felt hollow, and he realized that even when he won, he still lost in one way or another.

He turned to you, his expression a mix of concern and tenderness. Aegon stroked gently at the side of your cheek, wanting to make you feel safe again after you’d been forced to tolerate the full brunt of his mother’s wrath. He found you to be more resilient than he’d ever expected, already sitting up and staring at him with a knowing look upon your face.

“I’m so sorry,” you say softly and almost instantly he feels something within his chest fracture.

It might have been the facade he always wore cracking, how he always projected an image of indifferent merriment so none would know how truly miserable he was. It might even have been the very fact that you had suffered insults by associating with him and yet you were still concerned about his well being.

Aegon can feel tears welling in his eyes and when you spread your arms out towards him, he doesn’t hesitate to crash into you. He buries his face in your comforting bosom and finally allows himself to fall apart in your embrace without shame. It’s probably the safest and most accepted he’s ever felt in his entire life and he knows now that he won’t ever be able to exist without you.

As you rake your fingers through his silvery locks, his tears dwindle until he is left relaxed, sated by your validation that his life is not as easy as everyone might think it is. He listens to your heartbeat as his fingers dig firmly into your back, making sure you can never leave his side. It’s a mercy, that you don’t seem to mind how clingy and needy he is. If anything, you seem born to mend his wounds, a soothing balm to his troubled soul.

You lean back against the pillows and soon Aegon finds himself drifting asleep against you. As his aching eyes begin to close, he can’t help but hope that he never disappoints you. He’s so convinced that he is a failure from the constant disparagements he’s endured throughout his life, that he can’t even fully enjoy you without worrying that he isn’t worthy of you - that you might leave him.

As if reading his mind, your hand massages gently along his scalp, cradling his head closer to your breast. “Don’t worry,” you say reassuringly. “It’s going to be alright. I promise.”

Aegon didn’t know how you could possibly promise him such a thing, but somehow hearing you say it aloud makes him actually want to believe it.

Read Chapter 2

And will you be bold Will you lose control? I could never desert you I could never let go If you fall in line And the zenith calls I'm standing waiting The last to fall

~Starset - Last to Fall

[lady-pug]

Written Between the Lines

Chapter IV - Where Lions Preen and Dragons Feast

Summary: Yours and Aemond’s relationship flourishes as you wait for your wedding to arrive. But when Jason Lannister steps out of line, insulting not only yourself, but also your mother and your future husband, you putting him back in his place elicits an interesting reaction from Aemond.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word count: 4,8k

Warnings: canon-typical incest (uncle-niece); smut, so minors DNI; oral sex (female receiving); Aemond being pussydrunk; Jason Lannister being a major asshole; Aemond is a simp through and through (I plead my case)

Notes: Hello my dears, how have you been? I bring you the next chapter of this series (this is also my second time ever I writing smut so bear with me please, I apologize in advance)

Just to explain some things, Aemond and Reader call each other husband and wife in High Valyrian even though they are not married yet because apparently there is no word for betrothed, fiancé, bride, groom or anything similar in High Valyrian, so they call each other that (it’s meant to be more affectionate than a indication of their relationship status anyway)

Also, I again used an online translator (if someone spots any mistakes please let me know and I’ll correct it right away), translations are in the end notes.

Thank you so so much for reading, I hope you've enjoyed this story so far and that you enjoy this chapter!

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Things had been calm, albeit quite hectic all the same, at least for a while. On the very same night after the spectacle that was the hearing over Driftmark, King Viserys had passed away in his sleep. Your mother, bless her soul, was with him when it happened, and promptly called for the maesters’ help but there was no longer anything they could do, leaving his body in the care of the silent sisters. Her coronation, reluctantly, happened on the very next morning. Rhaenyra wanted time to mourn her father, but an heir had no time to mourn a king, for the realm demanded a new one. Or, in this case, a queen.

In order to remind the lords of all the great houses of the oath they’d sworn to King Viserys almost twenty years before, Rhaenyra sent out every dragonrider to all corners of the Seven Kingdoms. Daemon flew to Riverrun; Jace paid the Lord Cregan Stark a visit; Baela, accompanied by Rhaena, was sent to the Vale; Aegon and Helaena took flight to Casterly Rock to negotiate with a promise of maintenance of Ser Tyland Lannister’s chair on the Queen’s Small Council and a future betrothal between Jaehaerys and Jason Lannister’s daughter, Cerelle; Luke headed to the Reach. 

You, on the other hand, were sent to speak with the Prince Qoren Nymeros Martell with a proposition to join the Seven Kingdoms under Targaryen rule, which he of course refused and practically laughed in your face. But you were nothing short of prepared, coming up with an alternative: should he recognize your mother as the Queen of Westeros, even if Dorne remained an independent kingdom, he could keep the Stepstones and incorporate it into Dornish territory. You’d even personally aid them with your dragon in driving away the Triarchy; the only catch was, after that, he’d have to maintain it of his own accord. If he was successful in keeping the Stepstones going forward, they were his to do what he pleased so long as he kept open commerce with the rest of the realm. He’d eventually caved in, an impressed smile adorning his features (and a proposition to warm your bed, which you politely turned down) as he agreed to your terms.

The only two great houses who gave any indication of trouble accepting your mother’s claim to the Iron Throne were Houses Baratheon and Greyjoy. Lord Borros Baratheon, although vexed at having to bend the knee to a woman, didn’t seem so bothered after negotiations with his cousin, the Princess Rhaenys, and a proposal to wed one of his daughters to the previous king’s youngest son, Daeron. Lord Dalton Greyjoy, on the other hand, was quick to bend the knee to Rhaenyra the moment he set his eyes on Vhagar flying above Pyke, the sheer size of her rumored to be bigger than the whole castle itself, and Aemond barely had to do any negotiations at all.

All of this, allied with the extensive gatherings of the Small Council (which Rhaenyra decided not to change most of its members for the time being, just rearranging their positions and reinstating Lord Corlys Velaryon as Master of Ships) meant yours and Aemond’s wedding got pushed back several weeks, if not moons, the last thing on anybody’s minds at the moment. The betrothal itself was only announced after the return of the last of the dragonriders to King’s Landing, almost a whole moon after the death of your grandsire. By then, the expected date for the birth of your mother’s and Daemon’s babe was approaching, and so it was decided to wait until after the babe was born so as to not cause Rhaenyra unnecessary stress that came with planning a whole wedding feast.

In the meantime, you and Aemond would spend every waking moment in each other’s presence; wherever one was, the other was never too far behind. Especially after your betrothal was formally announced the two of you could often be found walking together around the gardens, your hand tucked on the crook of his elbow, or breaking your fast together. Sometimes you’d be found reading together in the library or you’d watch him train on the balcony above the courtyard. Your handmaids often jested with you calling him your shadow, as he never strayed too far, almost like a lost little puppy. 

What the ever watching eyes of court didn’t see, however, was the way you’d often drag Aemond by the hand to some deep alcove away from everyone, or to the darkest hallway of in Maegor’s Holdfast, holding tightly onto the lapels of his leather doublet and crushing his lips to yours. Sometimes the kisses were unhurried, soft and gentle, everything you’d once dreamed of in your youth when your father, Ser Laenor, would tell stories of knights and princesses. Other times the kisses were fervent, passionate, his hands locked on tightly to your waist to stop them from wandering elsewhere. He’d been getting better the more you practiced together, more deliberate, sometimes catching you unguarded with a finger under your chin and a tilt of your head upwards, or a hand on your head and nimble fingers tangled in your hair. These stolen kisses, stolen moments, you shared had become the highlight of your days, and you suspected they were his too.

Almost two moons after her coronation you’d, regretfully, turned down your mother’s offer to spend some time with her in the middle of the morrow, promising to do so during the afternoon’s tea.

“You just want to gawk at your future husband training with a sword, don’t you?” she spoke, not even trying to hide the smirk hanging from her lips, much to your dismay. You felt the tips of your ears burning but didn’t try to deny it, for she knew you too well and could spot when you were lying.

Scurrying off to the courtyard you were pleasantly surprised to find it was practically devoid of the usual onlookers, not even the ladies of court were perched on their spot on the balcony, probably due to the gray and chilly weather that had briefly taken over the capitol. 

Only a few knights occupied the yard, engaged in heated training matches. On one corner Ser Erryk, who had been appointed by your mother as your sworn protector, sparred with his twin, Helaena’s sword and shield. Jace was also present, slaughtering a hay stuffed dummy with his sword; normally Daemon would supervise his and Luke’s (and your own, in secret) instruction, having picked up where Ser Harwin left off, but with the late stages of his wife’s pregnancy he chose not to venture too far from her side should she need his assistance. And Aemond, dedicated as ever, found himself in a match against Ser Jason Lannister, who had been briefly summoned away from Casterly Rock by his brother for some reason or another.

Emboldened by the lack of people who would possibly berate you or gossip behind your back about your ‘unladylike’ conduct (and considering you didn’t particularly care for the opinion of the likes of Jason Lannister) you decided to join the men in the courtyard, sitting down on some crates near where your betrothed was sparring, meaning to watch him from closer than usual.

Aemond was good. He was more than just good, he was phenomenal. He moved effortlessly, swiftly around the makeshift battlefield, embodying the first rule your father ever told you when he began to train you: ‘the sword is an extension of your arm’. He was one with the steel, moving with a graciousness that rivaled that of the greatest dancers. You could only imagine how many hours he had put into achieving such mastery, considering the incident had most likely completely changed his depth perception. Watching him fight, even as just a training exercise, winning match after match against Ser Jason, was doing funny things to your heart as it beat wildly in your chest, heat expanding from your cheeks and down to other places.  

The sun, partially hidden by gray clouds, was already high up in the sky when both men decided to call it a day. Aemond had already re-sheathed his sword and was making his way towards you when Ser Jason stopped him, trying to engage in some rather interesting conversation.

“My prince,” the man started, loud enough for you to hear, only getting an impatient hum in response “I hope not to take up too much of your time. I was just hoping you could maybe have a word with your grandsire.”

“What about?” Aemond’s eye barely flitted to the man in front of him, his gaze settling on you over Jason Lannnister’s shoulder as he talked his ears away.

“The changes in the Small Council.” he shrugged, as if it was the most trivial thing in the world “Lord Velaryon being named Master of Ships barely seems fair, especially with the state of his health.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, you see my prince, with a new reign just beginning I was hoping to be named Master of Coin.” he explained, finally gaining Aemond’s attention “But with the announcement of Lord Corlys for what was once my brother’s post, Tyland has now been appointed Master of Coin instead.”

You could see Aemond pursing his lips in thought, somewhat amused with the whole tirade Ser Jason was making.

“But you are the Lord of Casterly Rock, my lord. Shouldn’t that be enough for one man?”

“Ah, but to be granted a seat at the King’s Small Council is a great honor!” he kept on talking, not even noticing the slight jab aimed his way “Although the Queen’s Council just doesn’t have that nice of a ring to it.”

“Do you question your Queen’s decisions, my lord?” your betrothed asked, clearly meaning for Ser Jason to fall onto his trap and put his foot in his mouth. And oh, did he do it.

“I mean,” and that had you perking up on your seat “she hasn’t been known to always make the best decisions. My bet is she did this to appease Lord Velaryon about the death of his son. I simply don’t buy this tale of him being murdered by his squire. I am most sure she and that husband of hers had him killed so they could be together, she always had eyes for him in her younger years.”

He was speaking as if you weren’t even there, not noticing or simply not caring for your presence. You’d always known Jason Lannister was a fool, but you never took him for an idiot.

“She is a woman after all. They are more emotional creatures, thinking with their hearts rather than their brains.” he chuckled maliciously “Although a woman like Rhaenyra Targaryen probably thinks with her cunt more than anything.”

You were on your feet in an instant and even Aemond seemed surprised as the man started bad mouthing your mother, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, calling her every possible name under the sun.

“She would fuck any man who even glanced her way. Who knows who the father of all of her children even is? It might be one father for each offspring, we might never know.” Aemond’s expression got increasingly darker as the man talked about your brothers and you “The ones sired by her uncle are more likely to have purer Targaryen blood than the other three. What was she thinking, naming one of those counterfeits as heir?”

One moment you were watching the whole thing go down from afar and the next you were between the two men, holding Aemond back with both hands on his chest.

“You dare speak lowly of my betrothed, my future wife?! Your future queen?!” he tried lunging at Ser Jason but you stopped him, using all your strength to keep him from strangling the moron “I should have your tongue cut out and feed it to Vhagar, then feed her the rest of you along with it!”

“Aemond!” you held his face in your hands, firmly yet gently forcing him to look at you instead of the object of his ire “Ivestragī ziry jikagon, valzȳrys! Issa sepār mirrī vala, iksā sȳrkta than zirȳla.”

He exhaled sharply, nostrils flaring at the effort of calming down, until you eventually felt him nod curtly against your hands.

“Might I remind you, Ser Jason, that the one you speak ill of is none other than your Queen, the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, and that the last man who called her a whore lost his head for it at the hands of that husband of hers.” you spoke over your shoulder, throwing his words right back at him, smirking mockingly “And if my memory serves me well, Lord Lannister, you actually sent in a request to take her hand in marriage when she was younger, a request she herself rejected. So, by your own words, she would fuck any man who even glanced her way except for you.”

Aemond stared at you wide eyed, and you couldn’t decipher if his expression was one of indignation or awe. As for Ser Lannister, whereas any smart man would have stopped talking by now, Jason Lannister was no smart man, and it seemed his wounded ego and pride only fueled his loose lips.

“You hide behind a woman, my prince? I never took the One-Eyed Prince for a coward. What next, are you going to kneel at her feet and worship the ground she walks on?” he chuckled cruelly before mumbling under his breath, just loud enough for the both of you to hear “Maimed freak.”   

The ringing in your ears and the way your name fell off of Aemond’s lips in a warning tone were the only indication of your next moves, and the next moment you found your hand wrapped around the handle of his sword. He couldn’t react fast enough, for you had already unsheathed his sword and turned, the tip of the blade pointing at Ser Jason’s neck. 

“How about you kneel?” you hissed at him, noticing the other two knights and your brother intending to move forward and intervene, but they stopped with a gesture of your head.

The sword was longer, heavier than you were used to, but it would do. You held the Lannister’s stare daring him to move. He, in turn, unsheathed his own sword, clashing it against yours and proceeded to try to attack you. 

One lesson Ser Harwin had taught you that had stuck with you for the rest of your life was that most of the knights in the realm were physically stronger than you. It was a given fact. But you were faster, more agile, not wearing several pounds in steel armor that slowed you down meaning you were light on your feet in turn.

“The realm isn’t a nice place for ladies such as yourself, princess.” you remember him saying, a wink thrown your way “The world will not play fair, so you must use every advantage you are given.”

So you waited, dodging Ser Jason’s every blow. You waited for a moment, for just one small falter on his part. It didn’t take long; he was angry, humiliated even, and thus he was reckless, giving you a large window of opportunity to strike. In an instant, while his arm was pulled back way above his head to strike down at you, you twisted your wrist, hitting him square on the nose with the pommel of your sword. He tumbled to the ground, one hand clutching his now bleeding nose and the other blindly feeling around for his sword, which had fallen out of his hand during the fall.

“Yield.” you pointed Aemond’s sword at his neck once more “Yield and those present might just be merciful and overlook your transgressions, forget your treason.”

Both Ser Erryk and Ser Arryk had their hands placed on their own swords, prepared to defend you at a moment’s notice and arrest the treacherous lord should you just say the word. Jace, on the other hand, looked like he was trying his hardest not to burst out laughing at the situation, a strained smile painting his face.

“Why don’t you control your wife?!” Ser Jason spat at Aemond, gurgling on his own dripping blood as it ran down his face.

“She is not yet my wife. And besides,” Aemond smirked playfully at you, despite you not being able to see him “no one can control her.”

Seeing as he was vastly outnumbered, Ser Jason couldn’t see any other option than to accept defeat, raising his hands. Once you were sure he wouldn’t try anything funny again you turned back around, giving Aemond back his sword before stalking off, fuming at the man’s audacity.

You didn’t get very far, however, feeling a large warm hand wrapping around your wrist. You turned around, ready to give whoever it was a piece of your mind, but you faltered once you realized it was Aemond who had reached out to you. His expression was firm, determined, as he started dragging you by the wrist, finding one of the secret doors that lead to the hidden tunnels in the Keep and pulling you behind him with a steadfastness similar to the one he held himself with on the training yard.

“Aemond?” you asked while he pulled you deeper and deeper into the secret passages “I’m sorry.”

You feared you might have offended him. When you started approaching the age suitable for marriage, your mother had sat you down to explain what you should expect and to prepare you for what was to come. She told you most lords expected their wives to be proper, never speak out of turn and bend to their every whim with a head bowed. You replied, indignantly, that what they wanted then was a servant they could sire children with, something that prompted a full belly laugh from Daemon who had been standing closeby. You were worried that, by putting Ser Jason Lannister back in his place for insulting not only yourself and your mother, the Queen, but also your future husband, your actions reflected poorly on Aemond himself.

He only stopped walking when you were very far into the tunnels, turning you around and pushing your back against one of the stone columns. He was standing so close to you, staring at you so intently, you couldn’t help but swallow nervously.

“Please, uncle, forgive me! I do not know what came over me, he started insulting you and I just-”

The force with which he crashed his lips against yours was so intense it almost sent you tumbling backwards; your head would have surely been slammed against the wall behind you were it not for his hand gently cradling the back of it to prevent you from hurting yourself. He kissed you fiercely, and by the Gods, had he gotten good at it. His tongue moved against your own with rapid movements, his fingers tangling in your hair and tugging, electing a small breathy whimper out of you, to which he hummed in return, nipping at your bottom lip. He shoved one leg in between yours, keeping them apart, crowding you even further against the wall as his slender fingers pulled at your hair again to tilt your head to the side, allowing his lips to trail a path down your neck to the junction of your shoulder.

“Ñuha nēdenka zaldrīzes,” he groaned against your neck, nibbling softly at the skin “ñuha zaldrītsos mīsagon nyke hen mirrī kēlio.”

Arousal pooled in your core at his words, not even realizing your hips had started mindlessly moving back and forth against his thigh. It was over all too soon, however, as he took a step back from you, to which you whined at the loss of contact. But what he did next surprised you even more.

Aemond sank to his knees in front of you, his hands caressing from your hips to the back of your thighs. 

“W-what are you doing?” you asked breathlessly.

“Proving some of Jason fucking Lannister’s words right.”

It dawned on you then what he meant, as he started bunching up your skirts.

“Are you going to kneel at her feet and worship the ground she walks on?”

“Hold these for me?” he asked softly, holding the front of your dress bunched up against your navel, and the way he was looking up at you with so much adoration almost broke your heart.

“Aemond, I told you, we can’t-”

“Fear not, ābrazȳrys, this will not break your virtue.” he mentioned, hoisting one of your legs bend over his shoulder.

He spoke with so much conviction you wanted to believe him.

“And how do you know that?”

“Aegon may have mentioned something of the sorts.” he said casually.

“Are we trusting what Aegon says now?” you asked, exasperation dripping from your voice.

“My brother may be an idiot, but his expertise lies in two places:” he explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world “his wines and the pleasures of the flesh.”

Your laughter echoed in the empty halls.

“Aegon does not strike me as the type to know how to please a woman.”

“I said he knows the pleasures of the flesh, not necessarily how to do it right.” he chuckled along, before his expression turned serious once again. He turned his head slightly, laying a kiss on the side of your knee “But if you really don’t feel comfortable, we can simply forget this ever happened and just wait for our wedding night.”

You pondered for a moment, not wanting for this moment with him to end. You were rather quickly realizing that there wasn’t much you wouldn’t do for him, and that thought brought a light fluttery feeling to your stomach.

“No no, I trust you.” you smiled reassuringly at him “If Aegon says it is fine, then I trust your judgment.”

“Good.” he inched closer to your core, pushing your smallclothes to the side “But please, stop talking about my brother. His name is not the one I want to hear coming out of your mouth while I feast on your cunt.”

As he was about to dive in, a hand holding onto his locks prevented him from doing so just yet.

“Would you rather I chanted Daeron’s name instead?” you jested, giggling at the annoyance that took over his features.

“I​​ksā iā ōdres.” he pinched the skin on the back of your thigh where his hand was resting, his other hand snaked around your leg perched over his shoulder, helping to keep you balanced “Ñuha brōzi kessa sagon se mērī mēre ao hīghagon.”

“I mean, you did agree to marry-” your jesting was interrupted by a soft moan that left your parted lips, the feeling of his tongue licking a broad stripe between your folds catching you off guard.

Never in your entire life had you felt anything like it. A tingling feeling spread across your entire being, starting from where his lips and his tongue were diligently moving against your soaked slit. He worked smoothly against you, alternating between gentle strokes of his tongue over your entrance and soft kitten licks on your little bundle of nerves on the apex between your thighs.

“A-Aem…-” you tried uttering his name, now completely lost to the blissful sensations he was eliciting out of you, your fingers knotting on his hair and pulling hard.

And then something in him changed. Like a switch had been flipped in his mind, his grip tightening on your thighs as he started devouring your cunt with renewed vigor with a groan, its vibrations against your skin sending your toes curling from unbridled pleasure. You couldn’t fathom what could have possibly caused it, if it was the way you tightened your hold on his silver strands, the breathiness in your voice or, as you’d later be reminded, the accidental use of a long forgotten sobriquet you hadn’t given a second thought to in several years. 

Aemond feasted upon you like a man on a mission, desperately leaving open mouthed kisses and broad licks against you cunt like he was starved. It felt like he wanted to memorize the very taste of you should he perish tomorrow, pulling moan after moan from you. Had anyone been venturing these tunnels, they could have surely guessed what was happening, the wet noise of his mouth against your cunt and the way you weren’t even trying to muffle your cries of his name giving it away. 

The way his tongue worked in vigorous movements, swirling swiftly around your clit and then down to your entrance again, had you shoving his head even closer to you, canting your hips against his face. The motion caused his sharp nose to bump against your clit, prompting a sharp whine to tumble from your lips.

You couldn’t help rocking your hips against his lips, feeling something warm and almost tangible, like liquid fire, steadily pooling in your core. You felt the pressure of it mounting higher and higher, like a coil threatening to snap, streams of pleasure climbing up your spine and turning your mind into mush. Your thoughts were hazy, like a fog had taken over your thoughts, and you could barely register that Aemond was murmuring something on your skin, but what you couldn’t tell. 

Opening your eyes again, for you haven’t even realized they had fallen closed, you stared down at him in between your legs. He looked ethereal, his eye closed as he savored you, some strands of his normally neatly groomed hair messy from where your fingers had pulled. You wanted to see him, for him to gaze up at you, so you grasped his fingers which lay upon your thigh and gave them a little squeeze. His eye fluttered open almost lazily, violet hue half-lidded as he stared up at you. For just a single moment, your traitorous mind was reminded of Aegon, for Aemond looked like he was honestly drunk on your dripping cunt, like it was the finest of Dornish reds he had ever tasted, expression fogged up as if his mind was far away. The small pang of guilt you felt at the comparison was quickly replaced by blinding pleasure as he, upon you smiling down at him with quivering lips, wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked sharply.

Then that coil snapped, your head thrown back in ecstasy. That liquid warmth spread over your body like a tidal wave as your muscles trembled, and had he not been holding you up you’d have surely dropped to the ground, consuming every part of you and leaving a pleasantly tingly feeling in its wake. He switched back to gentler motions as you rode out your high, eventually coming to a halt when you finally stopped twitching. He dropped your leg and climbed to his feet, a glazed sheen against his chin and lips as they found yours, the tangy taste of your cunt invading your senses as he kissed you softly, so very different from just moments ago.

Aemond pulled back, resting his forehead against your own, both of your breathing hard against each other’s mouths.

 “I’d get on my knees every day if you asked it of me.” he mumbled.

Your heart fluttered at his words, clenching in your chest. 

As he embraced you, you couldn’t help but notice the bulge that had formed in his trousers, but as your hand started to untie its laces, he stopped you, intertwining your fingers together.

“Later.” he whispered, laying a soft peck on your lips “I wanted to do this for you.”

“Let me assist you, like you have done for me.” you pleaded, voice a bit hoarse from how loudly you had been chanting his name in pleasure.

“Tis’ but a small inconvenience. I will take care of it by myself later.”

You pulled back only slightly in his arms to look down between the two of you and couldn’t help but jest.

“It seems like quite a large inconvenience if you ask me.” you smirked.

Aemond stared at you, expression blank, for but a beat before bursting out laughing, and you decided right then and there, in his arms, that it was your favorite sound in the whole world. You’d get on dragonback and watch all of Westeros succumb to dragon fire if it meant he’d never stop laughing. You could only hope on bated breath your wedding arrived sooner rather than later, for you couldn't wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

High Valyrian translations: - ivestragī ziry jikagon, valzȳrys - let it go, husband - issa sepār mirrī vala, iksā sȳrkta than zirȳla - he is just a little man, you are better than him (meant as in ‘it isn’t worth it’) - ñuha nēdenka zaldrīzes - my fierce dragon - ñuha zaldrītsos mīsagon nyke hen mirrī kēlio - my little dragon defending me from a little lion (‘little dragon’ meant affectionately while ‘little lion’ is meant with condescension) - ābrazȳrys - wife - iksā iā ōdres - you are a pain (meant as in ‘you are a menace’) - ñuha brōzi kessa sagon se mērī mēre ao hīghagon - my name will be the only one you scream

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[shierajones]

Rise of Red

So I’m watching this movie and doing Simone Biles levels of mental gymnastics to make this all connect to the original story and have the plot holes fill in. Here are my attempts at cohension from the beginning:

SPOILERS!!!!

It’s been 30 years since Auradon was founded.

The math isn’t mathing but sure, let’s say after D3, everyone went on adventures, Ben and Mal got married and they all took time to mature and grow in their roles. As the years have passed, they recognize what a terrible job Beast did as a leader and they want to increase trade and foreign relations with other countries.

Uma says that Ben and Mal put her in charge of everything while they (along with Evie and Jay) are making alliances with other countries.

Of course! Because Beast sucks as a leader so they don’t trust him to take back over even if only temporarily. Gil and Harry (and most of the pirates we’ve seen) are missing from Uma’s crew, because she asked them to help Ben and Mal on their journey. Hook is serving as Captain in Uma’s absence and Jay and Gil have grown very close since traveling Auradon together through the years so it makes sense.

Chad is Cinderella and Charming’s son, but Chloe will one day be queen of Cinderellasburg.

Cinderella and Charming had fertility issues at first and Chad is adopted. Chloe is their miracle baby and, though younger, is the true-born heir to the throne. They love and support Chad in all things and have pampered him his whole life. Given the struggles they had to conceive, they don’t regret showering Chad with love but they recognize he’s a bit spoiled and not fit to be king one day.

The future shows Red and the Queen of Hearts ruling on the throne together. I guess we’re assuming since she’s black and red it means she’s evil.

We never actually see that this future is prevented. The ultimate endgame may still be the same, that Red rules with her mother. I’m going to say, this future was not prevented, just that the Queen of Hearts turn to evil was delayed.

In the past, many of the heroes and villains that we know are in high school together.

Many but not all. This is just a blip in their histories and the stories to come in the future are still canon. We don’t actually see any of the villain/hero pairs (Maleficent & Aurora) (Hook & Peter Pan) (Hades & Hercules) so outside of two couples being established (Jasmine and Aladdin in love and Ella and Charming flirtation/mutual pining) there’s nothing that makes some of the stories automatically false. I’d say some of the events in high school just blacken their hearts more and turn them into real villains.

Bridget and Ella’s personalities seem to be switched (with a more evil skew on Bridget’s end as an adult). This one is long.

Ella was Bridget’s only friend and because she was grounded, she wasn’t supposed to be able to make it to the Castlecoming. She cancels on Bridget and leaves her alone. However, Fairy Godmother is also friends with Ella and has been practicing her magic more and is now in possession of a powerful spellbook (more on that later). She wants a way to help her and is finally successful casting an enchantment that gets Cinderella to the dance for a short time. When her curfew hits, the spell will be reversed and send her home. When she gets to the dance, instead of finding Bridget, she gets caught up in Charming and after the song playing changes to So This is Love, they share their first dance. The two are so engrossed in each other and discovering their feelings are mutual that she doesn’t notice anyone or anything else. However, Bridget sees her and is excited at first until she realizes Ella isn’t seeking her out. She’s stuck on Charming. The song playing when Ella walked in is Shuffle of Love and Bridget is trying to focus but makes a mistake. She turns again to Ella to see if she’ll jump in and help but she’s still too distracted by Charming. Left heartbroken she moves and just watches them on the dance floor while staying isolated on the sidelines. She tries to ignore her feelings because she should be happy for Ella but she can’t stop crying a little. She should’ve been there for her. Isn’t that what friends are for? Then, Uliana comes to talk to her and seemingly comfort her. For a second, she thinks she’s coming around to be her friend. She doesn’t think twice when she offers her a cupcake. Suddenly she’s transformed to a monster and everyone around her starts laughing. Ella and Charming’s attention is finally broken from each other and they turn to see what’s going on. Upon seeing this monster, they laugh too thinking it’s just a prank—with no idea who the monster is. But Bridget’s last shred of hope is broken seeing her only friend laugh at her pain after ignoring her the whole night. When Ella finally realizes who it is, she tries to run after her and loses her shoe. She almost catches her to comfort her but then is whisked away by Fay’s spell and finds herself back at, sitting in the barn. Ella, still grounded is left feeling a mixture of joy, love, pain and regret from the events of the night. She can’t contact Bridget or see her until school starts again on Monday. By Monday it’s too late. Bridget, having spent the weekend with no one to talk to or comfort her decides Love Ain’t It and takes on a new mantra for her life. She looks into the Looking Glass and sees her evil future with her daughter. Fine, if that’s what she becomes, why try? At school, Ella tries to apologize and beg for forgiveness but it’s too late. She tries to tell her how her kindness made her strong, how she’s always respected that about her and loves her like a sister but it’s not enough. She tries to show her with her actions. She takes on the persona Bridget always had because it was good, it was kind, it was true strength. She doesn’t want to suffer for one mistake and doesn’t want Bridget to allow that night to define her, but again, it’s too late. Bridget already knows how this story ends and it’s not with love and friendship. She decides to let the fear and power be her friend and becomes the worst bully they’ve ever seen.

Uliana and her crew were troublemakers so would never have been able to open the spellbook and prank Bridget.

Before Red and Chloe showed up, Uliana and her crew were going to lure someone else in to get the book. Fay! They manipulated her with fear and hope—the promise that she could use the Sorcerer’s book when they were done to perfect her magic. So she did it, just like her daughter tried to take the wand in D1.

Merlin just lets Red and Chloe into school, partners them with their mothers “coincidentally” and sees the open window after the break in but doesn’t try to find out who else was able to escape.

He’s aware that Red and Chloe are time travelers and knows there’s a reason to change the timeline as they have. He knows what’s to come with Beast banning magic and shipping off the villains. He wants to change that story too and these girls are the catalysts. This change in history is going to open the doors for magic to be welcomed back to Auradon in the future as they return and have to fix what they’ve changed.

[blues824]

Once Upon A Dream

Gender-neutral reader, a tad self-indulgent. References a train, but could reference a dress, tailcoats, a cape of some fabulous sort, etc. 

Use of the word officiant, but I meant it in a way where he marries the two of you, and I did not use any religious traditions; just headcanon fae traditions. Also uses the word bridesmaids, but I did not describe reader as a ‘bride’.

Pricking of fingers on a spinning wheel, blood.

Malleus Draconia

It was a joyful day within Briar Valley. Everyone was rushing to put the finishing touches on their homes and stores, decorating with the most beautiful flowers anyone has ever seen. The whole town was bustling with excitement and magic. Farmers from the outskirts of the land were coming in on their wagons filled with even more flowers so no one would worry about running out.

You looked outside of your window in your silk pajamas to see all of the preparations being made for your big day. You took a huge whiff of fresh air, and you could smell the freshness of the floral arrangements. Someone then knocked on the door, and you smiled as you gently opened the door to reveal a maid and a manservant holding your attire. Just seeing the outfit brought joy to your heart and a smile to your face.

For years, you had been imagining this day: your wedding day. 

The maid helped you bathe and moisturize and spray perfume on, before helping you into the wedding attire. It had a bit of a train in the back, so she had to call over the manservant to help hold the train in place. Your hair was arranged with a crown of blossoming flowers, and you were given a bouquet. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you let out a gasp at how different but similar you looked.

The servants who were helping you get ready were all very friendly and excited, despite you being human and they being fae folk. Actually, a lot of the citizens within the town and all of the land of Briar Valley thought you were beautiful and kind, just like your friends back at NRC did… just like your fiancé did as well. 

Oh yes, everyone was making a big deal of the wedding that day because you were marrying Malleus Draconia, the Crowned Prince of Briar Valley. Queen Maleficia herself approved of this match, as she had never seen her grandson so in love and so happy with someone by his side, and said that after your wedding ceremony, she would relinquish the crown to the prince so that he would be King and you would be his Spouse and Co-Ruler.

Unfortunately, your bridesmaids would be some of the ladies you had made friends with here in Briar Valley. All of your family were still back in your world, a place you still couldn’t get to yet. It didn’t sadden you too much, though, because you could start a whole new life here in Twisted Wonderland.

You had already been through the training and lessons on how to be both a person of the court and a ruler. However, you did not see your fiancé for much of that time. Instead, you became quite close to both the current Queen and Lilia. You went through a lot of harsh history lessons, mostly consisting of the disagreements between humans and faes.

Your marriage would be one of genuine love between human and fae kind, not one of convenience or alliance.

The sentence was heavier on your head than the floral crown you were wearing, probably because of the truth it held. You loved Malleus with all your heart, which is why you dealt with walking with books on your head, with sword fighting, with saying hello to multiple different nobles within the kingdom, with not seeing him as you were in training…

You had no magic, and you were fully capable of doing all of this to prove your love and dedication not just to your husband-to-be, but the kingdom you were going to rule. It was enough for the people and the Queen to be proud, because you cast aside your differences and tried to learn.

Eventually, the maid that made her appearance this morning led you by the hand out to the castle’s entrance while the manservant followed behind, holding up the train of your outfit. The other servants were all at the sides of the corridors and halls as you made your way, congratulating you and wishing you good fortune. You would see them later, at the actual celebration once the ceremony had commenced.

One thing that was part of fae culture, specifically with weddings, was that the newlyweds had to prick their finger upon a spinning wheel so as to bind their beings together as one whole. You saw a wagon being loaded up with such a wheel. It was going to be the front of the procession, as you made your way to the meadow where the wedding was taking place.

The maid helped you onto the unicorn (yes, a unicorn), as it would have been a bit of a walk in the shoes you had on. You let out a gasp at how beautiful it was, and you ran your hand through its soft mane before you were joined by Sebek and Silver (dressed in the groomsmen attire) at your sides. They were on horseback, and they were there to make sure you made it to the altar safely. After all, Malleus and Maleficia would have their heads if you were kidnapped or harmed at all.

You looked and saw that Sir Zigvolt was close to tears, and you, with a smile, asked if he required a handkerchief. This just made a hint of a smile appear on his and Sir Silver’s face as he wiped away his tears. No matter how much pressure you were put under, you always managed to put your friends first as well as maintain a sense of humor. 

Lilia rode up next to them and told them to straighten their posture. He was in his more mature form, taking you a bit by surprise. In all of the years you have known Lilia, you would never have described him as serious. But here he was, in his general’s formal attire, hair long and tied up in a ponytail, commanding a small battalion to trail behind you.

This was a bit much, wasn’t it?

Well, it was too late to ask, since now your handmaidens and manservants had taken their place right behind you and in front of the battalion. Then, the procession started. The castle gate rose to let you and your parade through, and all of the citizens of the town were making their way to the same meadow you were going to right now. All of the decorations upon the houses and stores were so beautiful up close, rather than when you saw them on a balcony.

Looking forward, you saw that you were coming upon the gates of the actual city where the castle resided. You forgot how big the entirety of Briar Valley was. It hit you extra hard when you realized that this meant that the lords and ladies would be there as well. Royalty, nobility, the gentry, and even the common folk. The entire land would be there and attending the festivities that would come after you and Malleus pricked your fingers.

On the side of the road, there was a little child who pulled at his mother’s skirt and pointed at you in amazement. You gave a small wave and he squealed in excitement, making you smile. But, you continued onward through the main street. It wasn’t too long before you reached the edge of the forest.

Inside the forest, there would be a green meadow where everything should be set up, aside from the spinning wheel. You’ve been there when you and Malleus were planning the wedding, and it was one of the few times you were actually able to see your fiancé. He looked very happy to hold you in his arms again… even if it was just for about five minutes.

Yeah, they were very strict on you both not seeing each other too much, as it could cause a distraction for either of you. You slept on entirely different ends of the castle just so the two of you wouldn’t be up to anything suspicious. However, you were able to dine with each other in the dining hall, as there were servants who were monitoring the both of you. It was very annoying, but once you and him were joined in matrimony, you would see each other much more.

The trees were beautiful, and covered with moss. The sun shone through the leaves in little patches of sunlight on the ground. Whenever you passed through the rays, it made you feel its warmth upon your skin. Seeing all of the green made you feel more and more excited about what was to come in a few short moments.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Malleus had to admit that he had never been more nervous than how he was now. He was standing, awaiting his fiancé at the altar. Everyone was making their way to their seats, excited for the reception after the ceremony. None of them could see how sweaty the prince’s hands had gotten in the short amount of time he had been there.

Perhaps you had second thoughts? It was understandable, considering this would be a huge responsibility placed on your shoulder as a magicless human, something you were kind of used to but also very tired of. But you expressed such excitement when he proposed to you, so that wouldn’t be very reasonable.

What if you were kidnapped or hurt on the way here? Oh, if something happened, someone would die. Whoever would have been audacious enough to rob him of his wedding day to his beloved would pay the hefty price. Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see his grandmother looking up at the sky to see a dark cloud that was forming. Malleus shook his head to snap out of it, when he heard the ‘all rise’.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You took a deep breath and stepped forward into the meadow from off of the path. The sun was shining bright, and you were fighting for your life to try and see where you were stepping. There were gasps as you got to the row furthest from the altar, which is when everyone stood up. The spinning wheel went first down the aisle and was placed on the left side of your groom. The wheel was followed by the groomsmen and bridesmaids. 

Speaking of, your heart fluttered upon seeing Malleus waiting for you. You could feel yourself tearing up as the realization hit you once again: you were getting married. Suddenly, all of the eyes on you didn’t matter. All that mattered was Malleus, since you both would be bound together as one for all of eternity.

Then, you started walking down the aisle. More gasps sounded, and you laughed while tearing up even more. Your fiancé also started tearing up a bit, smiling. Queen Maleficia thought the scene was absolutely adorable, reminding her of her wedding to her husband oh-so-many years ago. She wished you both the same amount of happiness in your marriage that she had with her true love.

Once you made it to your spot at the altar, your very-soon-to-be-husband whispered to you that you looked like you were getting married, trying to distract you from the tears that were swelling up in his eyes. You giggled as you said that yeah, I’m getting married to you. His smile said a million more things than words ever could portray, and the officiant started performing the ceremony.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the joining of Crowned Prince Malleus Draconia to Y/N L/N, for the betterment not only of themselves but also for the Kingdom of Briar Valley. Now, without further ado, Your Royal Highness, if you wouldn’t mind taking off your gloves and pricking your finger upon the spinning wheel.”

You watched as the dragon fae removed his black gloves and leaned over to prick his finger. A spot of blood remained on both the wheel and his finger, and he brought his digit to his mouth to lick off the blood. He saw you watching him and gave you a wink. 

“Y/N L/N, if you would please prick your finger now.”

Your hand was shaky as you reached it to the wheel. Memories of a certain film you watched in your childhood flashed in your mind, and you smiled as you recalled what happened to Princess Aurora when she pricked her finger. However, the two of you were living two completely different fairy tale lives. You see, your knight in shining armor was the dragon.

It brought a bit of a sting to your finger, but nothing absolutely painful. You also brought your finger to your mouth, before denying Malleus any look at you (with love, of course) as you turned back to the officiant. 

To anyone else in the audience, you both were taking this relatively well for a couple who was about to be married. However, both your hearts were pounding against your chests. This was the most excited either of you have been, even more so than when Malleus first asked to court you and then proposed to you years later. 

“This spinning wheel is magic, and it turns typical wool into gold. This is a metaphor for the memories you both will make from this point onward. Any injustices suffered before you pricked your fingers shall be washed away and never repeated as you go forward in your marriage and make golden memories. May your happiness and love be eternal.”

At this point, Sebek and Silver lifted up the spinning wheel and walked back down the aisle to load it on the wagon before going back to their spots behind Malleus. At this point, there were a few stray tears running down your face and your husband gently wiped them away. You then turned back to the officiant so that everything could be wrapped up.

“Now, you may kiss your spouse. Congratulations.”

Malleus wasted absolutely no time in dipping you down and kissing you with such burning passion, it left you breathless after. The fae folk and your former peers from NRC all cheered in absolute excitement before he pulled you back up and helped you stay balanced. Then, he offered you his arm for you to wrap your own around before he gently led you back down the aisle.

You were followed by a procession of people; Queen Maleficia was first behind the two of you, then the bridesmaids, and then the groomsmen. Everyone headed to the reception area, excited to dance, party, and eat. You were excited to have a dance with your new husband, and to see him dance with his grandmother. You would be dancing with Professor Crewel, since he was a close father figure to you.

However, once you reached the area, Malleus pulled you to the side to kiss you again. The excitement and pure adoration in his eyes made your heart melt, and you couldn’t help but kiss him back in return. 

“My dear, I have waited many years for this. I’ve foreseen this once upon a dream, but I had no idea that it would come into fruition.”

“As have I, my love. Now, I believe everyone is waiting for us at the banquet table,” you giggled before you both made your way to your spots at the dining table.

[twstfanblog]

So how’d Malleus grab his kids? Was his oldest fulfilling her dreams of being an evil tyrant dragon while her siblings were making sure that no one tries to kill her?

Evil Dad AU meeting story 3 unlocked! Let's go! (Psst. I have evil queen Vil's entire story already plotted through too)

Just for backstory, Silver pretends to be a righteous knight who travels the various kingdoms under Malleus's rule. He pretends to be loyal to the various human kingdoms to learn about the many plots they've got to kill Malleus. He doesn't ever find anything worthy of worry past the supposed 'Dragon Killing blade'. But Malleus and Lilia allow him to roam around because they think it's cute that Silver cares about Malleus's safety. But one Spring (When Silver comes back to the castle to visit his family) Silver is concerned and asks for an audience with Malleus. Malleus is very off-handed because he thinks it's just Silver being overly concerned about a new weapon that's suppose to kill him. Malleus: What is new? Silver: There is a bounty for a dragon- Malleus: Are they still trying to kill me? It was cute a few hundred years ago, but you'd assume they'd learn after the dead 'heroes' reached the dozens... Silver: Silver: It's not you this time…it was for another dragon…one that actually looks like you…but younger… Malleus: The Diasomnia crew all pack up and go off into the lands to find what could only be Malleus's child. There is only one person Malleus ever slept with so they all know what it means if this is his son. And Malleus would also hope this leads him back to Yuu. They find Malicent terrorizing a small village, this much smaller version of Malleus's dragon form jumping around and setting fires. After a few moments of them all cooing they work to catch this juvinelle. Surprisingly just when they're about to catch him, another dragon child appears. The teal dragon confuses them enough to give the two enough of a gape to escape into the woods, leaving the Diasomnia crew in stunned silence. They're all confused because how are there two!? Malleus only slept with one woman in the past hundred years so there should only be one Draconia child.

Lilia: Lilia: I mean…I've never seen it…but what's to say the egg didn't hatch two babies? Malleus: Malleus: I need to find that woman… They of course catch up and nearly catch them AGAIN. Only to have ANOTHER DRAGON to swoop in. Malgona standing over them and her brother's flanking her demanding they leave HER lands. Malleus is overjoyed, he barely even cares anymore about HOW and just wants his and Yuu's children to be taken back home with them. He completely steamrolls over them saying they don't really want to leave their lands and are constantly rejecting his claim on them. It ends on the triplets bolting in different directions making them spit to catch one triplet. And even with the home-field advantage, the triplets are caught and Malleus asks them where their mother so he can collect her as well. Malgona is very bitter at being beaten but tells him they haven't seen her for three years. She would have normally visited them in the winter to make sure they were doing well in the weather, but she didn't come back one winter. Malgona: We were fine though, we have each other and are strong enough to deal with whatever could challenge us...So you can leave. Malleus: Nonsense, you and your brother's are much too young to be on your own. Malicent: We're 13... Lilia, horrified: Oh lord, you're infants. Malgona: WE'RE 13!? Lilia: Infants Malleus: By fae standards, you children shouldn't even be away from your mother's embrace yet Malathew: We're not fae though? We're dragons. Malleus: SO, that's how Malleus realizes how Yuu never planned on returning to him because she didn't even tell their children their true heritage. So into his arms they go, kicking and screaming, back to his empire and to be locked in the castle until he decides they're ready to go out into the world again.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Collusion and Revolution

Well, the final confrontation with Lila was a bust, but maybe Chloe's swan song will be bett----HAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry, I couldn't even finish that sentence without laughing.

Let's get into the twenty-second and twenty-third episodes of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Collusion and Revolution

“Collusion” starts off with... oh, for God's sake... Gabriel monologuing to Emilie's body for the umpteenth time, only now, we see just how bad his Cataclysm wound has gotten, now making his entire hand black.

Marinette and Adrien wake up and we get a pretty cute scene of them talking on the phone while getting ready for their respective days. Afterwards, Gabriel talks with Adrien about being sent to London, and is somehow aware that Adrien hasn't told Marinette yet. Even when Gabriel tries to use his ring to keep Adrien under his control, Adrien still shows signs of resistance.

Later at school, Chloe walks up to insult Marinette and Adrien as usual, but Marinette has a little rebuttal of her own.

Marinette: Be mean while you still can, Chloe. I'm gonna let you in on a secret. Remember your friend Lila who used to hurt everyone with her lies? See her anywhere in this classroom? No, because I put a stop to her nastiness and I'll do the same with you!

Yeah, and you were only able to do so because one of Lila's minions decided they didn't like being evil, and had no plan of your own prior to that.

It's revealed that not only is Lila (I'm not calling her Cerise to make things easier for myself) still in contact with Chloe through their Alliance rings, she also somehow got her own supervillain lair. How did she set up here, much less find the resources to do so? You guessed it, never explained!

And yeah, let's just get this out of the way. I hate what they're doing with Lila here. For reasons I'll get to in a later review, it's clear that there had to be some changes made so Lila remains a key player, even after the events of “Confrontation”, so they decided to make Lila manipulate Chloe as part of her plans. For a pair of episodes that are meant to show Chloe at her absolute worst, it devalues her status as a villain if she's just going to be used as a glorified attack dog for bigger threats like Lila. Remember, we've seen Chloe come up with her own plans before (Mr. Pigeon, Dark Cupid, Darkblade, Kung Food, Antibug, Despair Bear, Zombizou, Frightningale, Queen Wasp, Queen Banana, Gabriel Agreste, Penalteam, Determination, Derision), and we know she's not a complete idiot. She doesn't need Lila to hold her hand and tell her what to do to get what she wants. I get that it's supposed to be ironic that Chloe, for all her bluster, is ultimately a pawn in a larger scheme, but it just doesn't gel with the whole “irredeemable monster” stuff the show has been going with whenever Chloe has been on screen for the past two seasons. You could easily take Lila out of these episodes and not much would really change.

During class, Chloe makes a scene by blasting some music and dancing on her desk, and we get what has to be the most unrealistic thing this entire show has done for the past five seasons: Assuming kids still care about school when the year is almost over.

Rose: Chloe, quit it! We wanna hear the lesson, we care!

When Ms. Bustier tries to send Chloe to the principal's office, Chloe calls Ms. Mendeleiev (who is the new principal after Mr. Damocles resigned), and essentially forces her to change the rules to music is allowed. After Chloe taunts Ivan, just as Marinette tries to stop Ivan from hurting her, she uses the opportunity to frame Marinette for hitting her. Oh, sorry. I mean Lila uses the opportunity to tell Chloe to frame Marinette for hitting her.

In the principal's office, Ms. Bustier tries to reason with Chloe by showing her the present she got her all the way back in Season 2's “Zombizou”.

Ms. Bustier: Chloe, do you remember this gift you gave me on my birthday? To me, that is proof that you're a fragile teenager who doesn't know love and is simply looking for attention. And... we all tried to help you. So, please, whatever it is you want, ask yourself if it's worth all the suffering you're causing.

Chloe: Did you hear that? A homeroom teacher using a student's feelings to blackmail her. This is inappropriate, utterly inappropriate! My father, the mayor, would never tolerate this in a school.

Remember kids, FUCK showing compassion to your enemies! Everyone knows Gandhi was a loser anyway.

The negative emotions attract an Akuma to Ms. Bustier, but she manages to resist Monarch's influence for now. Monarch transforms back into Gabriel, who has a meeting with Tomoe and Andre to discuss the state of Paris' law enforcement.

Tomoe: Your policemen mostly get paid for doing nothing. It seems that Ladybug and Cat Noir are the ones who have been enforcing the law in Paris the last few months, wouldn't you agree?

Because I guess Ladybug and Cat Noir have also been stopping drug rings off-screen or something.

Chloe storms into the office, and even though Lila has no idea what's going on, she tells Chloe to record the conversation. Once again, Lila has to tell Chloe just how to be mean and selfish while she chews out Andre, and that if she was the mayor, she'd ban superheroes, right before Chloe learns Adrien is going to London next year.

After a scene that's only there to remind the audience that Adrien hasn't told Marinette about London yet, we see Gabriel talking with Andre about replacing Paris' police force with robots... even though this should really be more a discussion for the commissioner. I guess the writers didn't have enough money for a commissioner model because they had to allocate resources for Ms. Bustier's baby bump.

Andre: Seriously, Gabriel, what's this whole police robot idea all about?

Gabriel: Have I ever offered a single bad idea to you, Andre? We've always helped each other, haven't we?

Andre: Remember when we were young and penniless? When Emilie, you and I would make the world right from our little attic room? You made me my very first suit so I'd feel confident and Audrey, whom I'd fallen in love with, would finally notice me? Don't you think we were much happier back then? That our lives were more beautiful, more fair?

Gabriel: Come on, you have everything to be happy, Andre. Your wife, your daughter, Paris City Hall...

Andre: A woman who barely respects me, a selfish, heartless daughter, and a City Hall that I never wanted. I only got into politics like dad to impress Audrey, you know that.

Gabriel: I have no idea what you're talking about.

Andre: Look at me, Gabe. All my life I've lied, I've cheated and I've abused my power. I used to be a dreamer, an artist, I wanted to make movies! Now I've become a tyrant in servitude to my family and friends...

Aw, poor baby. Did someone condition their daughter to develop an entitlement complex while refusing to divorce your abusive wife?

I'm sorry, but I don't feel bad for Andre at all here. While I'm happy to see that the show is trying to teach kids that male mental health is important too, it doesn't really earn him a lot of sympathy considering a lot of this is his own fault. Sure, we don't know what Audrey was like when they were younger, and she could have gotten worse as time went on, but considering how rich he is coupled with the fact that Audrey spends most of her time in New York, he doesn't really have much of an excuse to not divorce her. As for Chloe, he has even less of an excuse, since he was responsible for her upbringing. He spoiled her rotten, he refused to properly discipline her, and he failed to teach her the slightest bit of humility. I'm willing to accept that Chloe is a lost cause by the show's standards, but I can't accept the fact that Andre had nothing to do with how she turned out. He's as much of a failure as a parent as Gabriel is.

As Lila somehow finds where the two are talking so she can overhear their conversation, Gabriel secretly records Andre, altering what he says to make him look bad. While I can't exactly describe it through text, this clip from The Simpsons should summarize it.

Ms. Bustier sees the video of Andre, and this time, she fails to resist an Akuma, turning into Wonder Woman—I mean, Miss Sans-Culotte.

Miss Sans-Culotte has a okay design. I like how it's meant to have a more patriotic theme with the color scheme, and the fact that it's based off some of the people in the French Revolution, aptly named the Sans-Culotte, is a nice way to teach kids about history. The problems I have are the golden armor, which goes against the fact that was previously mentioned in this very episode that the Sans-Culotte wore more simple clothing. That, and the guillotine blade for a weapon, which gives off some uncomfortable implications. The Miraculous power this time involves the Pig Miraculous' Gift, which somehow allows her to transform anyone her blade touches into balloons... even though the Pig never had that ability, and we saw what it really did just earlier this season (Jubilation).

Right when it seems like Adrien is about to tell Marinette about London, the two learn about Miss Sans-Culotte, and split up to transform into Cat Noir and Ladybug respectively. Meanwhile, Chloe hears the news about Andre before getting a call from Gabriel, who offers to “give her Andre's power”. Even though Chloe always uses her dad's power to get what she wants, she literally has to be told to accept the offer from Lila because she didn't think of the political ramifications. You see what I mean about Lila adding nothing to this episode? It'd be like if Thanos kept in contact with someone who had to tell him how to get the Infinity Stones at every step. As for Gabriel, I'll talk about his plan next episode.

Ladybug and Cat Noir confront Miss Sans-Culotte, demanding to know what she's doing.

Ladybug: Terror isn't a solution!

Cat Noir: There are elections to make your voice heard.

Miss Sans-Culotte: Or a revolution when everyone is corrupt. Nothing can stop freedom!

Because it's not like the video of Andre confessing to abusing his power, tampered or not, is an open and shut impeachment case, right?

Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm and gets a crown. After focusing on Miss Sans-Culotte and City Hall, she gets an idea.

Ladybug: Mayor Bourgeois is acting like the king of Paris, and maybe he should be removed from office after all.

Cat Noir: Are you saying we should give this villain free reign?

Ladybug: I don't know... I feel like that's what the Lucky Charm means. You're right, it's not up to us to decide who gets to be the mayor and who doesn't. An akumatized villain just needs to be deakumatized.

Yeah, remember how Ladybug said it was too risky to forge a temporary alliance with Matagi Gozen in order to stop the person who stole almost every Miraculous she had last season? Well now, she's saying they should essentially let this Akuma force the sitting Mayor of Paris out of power, which is all kinds of illegal. Now this might just be because I'm not French, and don't understand how politics work over there, but here in America, the last time some people stormed a major government establishment to protest a fair election, they were seen as fucking lunatics.

Zoe tries to reason with Miss Sans-Culotte, but she's still in favor of using that guillotine blade in ways that don't involve balloons. They try to reason with her and convince her to reason with Andre... right as Andre is about to resign himself, so this whole conflict was pointless. Still glad to know Ladybug and Cat Noir are now willing to let Akumas use their powers to get what they want when that was almost always seen as taboo.

Miss Sans-Culotte once again rejects the Akuma with ease, Ladybug uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage... only to be cornered by several police robots, and ones that look really stupid at that.

Remember, Gabriel and Tomoe wanted taxpayers to pay for these.

Yeah, somehow, the Lucky Charm was actually meant for Chloe, because, well...

Cat Noir: A crown for the queen of brats, of course!

What, did calling her the literal Antichrist not do well with test audiences?

Yeah, this makes no goddamn sense. Why was the Lucky Charm prioritizing Chloe of all people instead of the Akuma as usual? What was Ladybug even supposed to do here? Yeah, she really should have stopped Miss Sans-Culotte, but was she expected to know about the police robots or something?

Chloe tells the press that Ladybug and Cat Noir helped an Akuma force the current mayor out of office. This is all part of Gabriel and Tomoe's plan, but once again, she's not wrong. The two still helped a dangerous supervillain force a major political shift, and the resulting power vacuum that allowed Chloe to rise to power is really their fault. After Cat Noir uses his Cataclysm to free himself and Ladybug from the nets the robots used to trap them with, we get the start of a running gag where Chloe struggles to say the word “democratic”, because remember, she's blonde, and therefore stupid. This happens several times across both episodes, and none of them are actually funny.

The episode ends with Chloe unlawfully taking control of Paris as the new mayor, which is totally different from Miss Sans-Culotte unlawfully forcing Andre to resign. The last time I saw double standards this blatant, I was watching RWBY.

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... CHLOE

If there's one thing I love about my irredeemable villains, it's that they're so stupid, it's impossible to take them seriously. Not only did Chloe need Lila to hold her hand through every major decision she made throughout this episode (and by extension, the next), she failed to understand her dad's political career falling apart and needed to be told to take an opportunity to own an army of advanced robots, and couldn't even say the word “democratic”, which isn't that hard of a word to say even if you're borderline illiterate.

“Revolution” starts off with Chloe essentially declaring martial law in Paris for the time being. Once again, Cat Noir says the sane thing for once and suggests they go and beat up Chloe themselves. Well, I say that, but somehow, Cat Noir contradicts himself in his very next line.

Cat Noir: We can't let Chloe make up the rules.

Ladybug: If she were akumatized, it'd be easy. Find the object, break it, de-evilize her.

Cat Noir: But there is no object, and we can't attack someone who isn't akumatized, or we'd look like the supervillains.

I think you forgot something, guys...

THE ENTIRE FUCKING REASON SHE'S MAKING THE RULES IN THE FIRST PLACE IS BECAUSE YOU HELPED A SUPERVILLAIN IN THE LAST EPISODE! HOW DID YOU FORGET THIS VITAL INFORMATION?!

What the hell is with the sudden change of pace? They were willing to let Miss Sans-Culotte have her way by making Andre resign, so why can't they stop Chloe when she's already taken over Paris by force? I don't think you'd really look like supervillains if you stopped a tyrant instead of a democratically elected mayor. All you need to do is stop Chloe from controlling the robots, and you're golden.

In fact, where the hell is the rest of the Parisian government during all this, much less the French government? Why aren't they doing anything about this? We don't even get a throwaway line that explains it like Chloe bribed some politicians to keep quiet about the whole thing. Instead, despite an obvious violation of democratic rights, nobody outside of Paris is even bothering to stop this.

After a brief scene where some citizens are interviewed about Chloe, we see Adrien once again angsting about going to London. Like what Lila did with Chloe last episode, Plagg has to outright tell Adrien to talk to Marinette about this, because I guess this show has a really low opinion on the intelligence of people with blond hair. Also, good to know that even though Chloe is currently ruling over the city with an iron fist, she's still allowing air traffic to flow normally. Good thing too, as it's almost tourist season. Adrien tries to tell Marinette through a call, but she talks to him about Chloe, and how they can protest her regime.

Meanwhile, at City Hall, Chloe has already gone mad with power, as she orders her new box robots around, while Gabriel calls her to praise her for how she's been doing. Afterwards, Gabriel transforms into Monarch and absorbs the powers from a few Kwamis before Voyaging to City Hall. Chloe orders her robots to arrest Monarch, unaware than Tomoe is the one actually controlling them, only for Monarch to offer a deal... which Lila once again has to tell Chloe to listen to even though Chloe has worked with him in the past. Monarch offers to akumatize Chloe in a way that makes it look like she's not working for him. She accepts, and becomes Queen Mayor.

Queen Mayor's design is pretty simple, but I guess it works for the plan. It's just Chloe in an admittedly nice-looking jacket. Not sure if she can actually take it off like her other clothes or not, though. As for the Miraculous powers, Monarch transfers five of them to her robots, the Turtle Miraculous' Shelter, the Horse Miraculous' Voyage, the Ox Miraculous' Resistance, the Bee Miraculous' Venom, and the Rooster Miraculous' Sublimation, which gives her an unclear power. Given what she subjects her victims to later on, I guess it's the torture chamber she creates? I also don't get how the robots are capable of using the Miraculous powers when earlier episodes established you needed to have multiple Alliance rings to use them (Transmission, Pretension).

But now's as good a time as any to discuss Gabriel and Tomoe's plan, and why is makes absolutely no sense. In case you got confused, here's a quick summary: Tomoe created an army of robots designed to replace the police, and when Andre refused to use them, Gabriel recorded a private conversation so he could edit it, then transform into Monarch to akumatize someone and hope Ladybug and Cat Noir would let her force Andre to resign, then talk to Chloe about taking over as mayor, hope she says yes while Ladybug and Cat Noir do nothing to stop her, then pretend to give her control over Tomoe's robots before akumatizing Chloe so she can actually control the robots, all while praying that Chloe doesn't find out the truth, much the government doesn't get involved with this.

Gabriel and Tomoe did all of this instead of just, you know, akumatizing Chloe like usual. If the plan was to akumatize her all along while making it look like she's not akumatized, why didn't Gabriel just do that from the start as soon as Andre resigned and Miss Sans-Culotte rejected her Akuma? Also, why the hell is Chloe so crucial to the plan anyway? Yeah, they plan to throw her under the bus once they win, but wouldn't it make more sense if Tomoe, the one whose company made the robots, was the one who took over as Mayor?

It feels like the show is trying to recreate the plan from “Miracle Queen” where Chloe teams up with Monarch, but that plan at least made sense, as Chloe was crucial because of her connection to Ladybug. Here, it just feels like the writers needed an excuse to actually make Chloe a threat, but just like when Felix gave Gabriel all of the other Miraculous last season, it's forced. I'm not really seeing Chloe as a threat when she needed Gabriel to hand her the keys to an army of robots, and I don't care if that's the point. If the show wants us to take Chloe seriously as a villain, it needs her actions to speak for themselves instead of turning her into a glorified attack dog for Gabriel, Tomoe, and even Lila to an extent.

But here's my biggest problem with this plan. Consider the fact that Gabriel put Chloe in a major political position, presumably in order to bank on the fact that Ladybug and Cat Noir wouldn't use their powers to beat up a civilian. Gabriel then transformed into Monarch and akumatized Chloe into a form that would make it look like nobody would even tell she was akumatized in the first place. So let me ask this: If Gabriel's plan involves making it look like Chloe isn't akumatized, how is this going to actually attract Ladybug and Cat Noir so you can get their Miraculous?!

Yeah, Ladybug and Cat Noir eventually decide to fight Chloe anyway, but they don't learn she's akumatized until she blurts it out, and that's well into their fight. The plan is to turn the local government against Ladybug and Cat Noir and discredit in a way that prevents them from taking action against an obvious threat, but that just doesn't gel with Monarch's goal of getting their Miraculous. Did Gabriel and Tomoe assume that Ladybug and Cat Noir would just have no qualms with presumably beating up a civilian? If so, why even bother hiding the fact that Chloe was akumatized? This is a problem the plan faces no matter who the mayor is. Hell, if anything, it would be better if Chloe was akumatized from the start, as no matter how long she hides it for, she still has control over an army of robots armed with Miraculous powers, which wouldn't decrease the threat she poses in the slightest. This isn't even the first time an Akuma has hijacked the position of mayor (Rogercop), so it's even less excusable!

The next day, the students stage a protest at their school to get Ms. Bustier her job back, where Chloe (I'm calling her that instead because nobody else calls her Queen Mayor) questions why they're using their right to protest. She also plans to tell Marinette that Adrien is moving to London (something Gabriel told her earlier), but once again, Lila tells her not to. Also, you want to know how stupid the whole “Chloe can't say the word 'democracy' right” gag is? In the same scene where she struggles to say the D-word, Chloe uses the words “Libertarian”, “negative”, and “influence” correctly. It's hard to really buy Chloe as this illiterate moron while you still have her use words like this.

We get what can barely be considered a montage of Chloe abusing her power, but it's only like, three scenes before the plot kicks back in. We get a scene of Chloe screwing around in a private one-on-one class, an admittedly funny bit where she had a golden statue of herself commissioned to rest on the Arc de Triomphe, and then a scene where she shows Andre the ice cream man just how unfair her rule is.

Chloe: Did you pay the permit fee to sell your ice cream?!

Ice Cream Man Andre: I don't need a permit to sell love in Paris!

Chloe: Well, now you do! Otherwise, you'll end up in detention!

I mean, she reasonably calls out Andre for not having a permit to sell ice cream. How... evil of her?

Marinette goes back to her place, only to learn Chloe abducted her parents and placed them in “detention”, before doing the same to her thanks to one of her robots using a combination of Venom and Voyage. We do get an admittedly decent scene of Chloe threatening to tell Marinette about Adrien moving if Adrien doesn't become her deputy mayor, only for Adrien to vow to tell Marinette himself... even though he kept trying to tell her earlier in the episode, so this moment feels a little hollow. But hey, it's not like the finale will make this scene seem even worse in retrospect, right?

Adrien is sent to detention, a torture chamber where footage of Chloe mentally conditions the prisoners into believing that they're ridiculous or that they can always count on her, all while the prisoners are told to find a chair in an endless maze. Again, another decent visual I'll give the episode credit for. After Adrien, Marinette, and Alya escape detention, the former two transform into Cat Noir and Ladybug respectively and get ready to finally do something about Chloe.

Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, a bikini bottom, and gets ready to stop Chloe alongside Cat Noir. Okay, Chloe has an army of robots on her side alongside the public's favor, so they'll need to come up with a really clever plan in order to—they're just going in guns blazing even though that's a terrible plan in a situation like this. Unsurprisingly, the two heroes immediately get trapped by a combination of Shelter and Resistance, nullifying the Lucky Charm and Cataclysm. Only now do they figure out Monarch is behind this, even though both of them saw the robots use Venom and Voyage to send them to detention, yet when Chloe actually says it, Ladybug is still shocked by this.

As Ladybug and Cat Noir start to detransform, they encourage the public to take action once they lose their Miraculous, even though Monarch will have won by then. As they do this, somehow, they stop detransforming until they manage to recharge their Miraculous by the power of because the plot says so. How did they do this?

Gabriel: I am an adult! Not transforming back is a power belonging to grown-ups!

Nooroo: I guess they must have grown up, Master.

Yes. Seriously. Even though there's been nothing else to signify that Ladybug and Cat Noir have matured this season, they now have the full power of their Miraculous at their disposal because now, they're adults. If you have to tell the audience that your characters have developed, then you've done a poor job at writing character development. Ms. Bustier takes the sash containing Chloe's Akuma while Cat Noir uses multiple Cataclysms to destroy the rest of her robots.

Ladybug de-evilizes the Akuma, oddly enough, doesn't use Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage, doesn't give Chloe a useless Magical Charm because Andre says he's going to “correct his own errors”, and after being convinced by her students, Ms. Bustier decides to run for mayor.

We then cut to a private jet where Audrey is chewing her daughter out for failing, even though she supported her earlier when she was mayor. Yeah, you know how it seemed like Andre was finally going to properly discipline his daughter. Dream on! Instead, he just decided to send her away with Audrey, someone who he knows is a terrible person, and lets her deal with Chloe in a way that heavily implies she's going to put Chloe through hell when she isn't at school.

Audrey: Because of you, we've lost face! You've ruined our name and our reputation! You had all the powers in your hands and you foolishly lost them! Bourgeois do not raise losers. You think you're going to London on vacation? Dream on! I'm going to take control of your life again, starting with your education.

This is seriously meant to be an appropriate punishment for Chloe while Andre gets absolutely no consequences for being responsible for his daughter turning out the way she did. I have only one thing to ask.

WHAT THE FUCK, ASTRUC?!

How the fuck did anyone involved with this show think any of this was okay?! How did Andre think this was okay when in the previous episode, he pointed out how awful Audrey was?! Why the fuckare both Andre and Audrey, the two people who helped make Chloe the person she is, getting away scot-free while Chloe gets condemned for everything?! Why the fuck are we supposed to be happy Audrey is diciplining Chloe when we know she's worse than she is?! WHO THE FUCK THOUGHT THIS WOULD BE OKAY TO GREENLIGHT?!

I can either interpret this scene in two ways.

The first way is that, like he's said for a few years now, Astruc still doesn't see this as child abuse, and that Chloe is being punished like any other misbehaving child is.

THIS IS WHAT THOMAS ASTRUC ACTUALLY BELIEVES.

The second way, and I consider this to be the worse option, is that Astruc's team is fully aware that this now qualifies as child abuse, and that Chloe deserves this treatment. Put aside the fact that a common mentality of abusive parents is that they believe they're helping their children by “toughing them up”, this is still a demented way to punish any character, no matter how bad they are.

“But IOTA! Chloe needs to be punished for what she did!” Yeah, she does, but not like this. Hell, you don't need to do a lot to change the ending and avoid the harmful implications. Just have Andre be the one to move out of Paris with Chloe with the intent to send her to boarding school. Also, rather than say he's “going to take control of Chloe's life again”, have him explain that while he still loves Chloe, he isn't mayor anymore, so she can't use his name to get out of trouble, meaning that like it or not, Chloe will have to grow out of her bratty attitude or else she'll get in even more trouble. That way, we see Andre actually taking responsibility for how bad of a parent he was, Chloe realizes her old tricks won't work anymore while the door is open for a redemption should you choose to bring her back next season, and most importantly, there's no implications of child abuse here.

But believe it or not, things were even worse for these episodes initially. As detailed in the Season 5 scripts, there was originally a scene in “Collusion” where Andre used his powers as mayor to divorce Audrey and steal custody of Zoe while leaving her to deal with Chloe herself, officially joining Jagged Stone in the Rich Deadbeat Dads Club.

And Astruc wasn't even aware it was taken out, not being told this until he found out on Twitter.

Because somehow, he considered Andre walking out on his family and leaving his biological daughter in the hands of an abusive bitch crucial to the story.

And do you want to know the worst part? No matter how you view this scene, either way, it's portrayed as Chloe getting punished, but the next scene plays Gabriel abusing Adrien straight, ordering him to pack his things as he'll be heading to London that night. The show literally can't make up its mind on whether child abuse is bad or not. Why is it okay for Chloe to be mistreated by her parents while we're supposed to sympathize with Adrien? No matter who the victim is, CHILD ABUSE IS STILL CHILD ABUSE.

I don't care how bad Chloe is, child abuse is NEVER justifiable, and it's disgusting that the show seems to take that stance, whether they intended to or not.

Let's just get the last few minutes out of the way so I can end this. Adrien is forced to pack for London, Nathalie does nothing to stop Gabriel from doing this, Lila steals one of Tomoe's computers, Gabriel tells Tomoe about keeping Adrien and Kagami safe in London while they execute “Operation: Perfect Alliance”, Marinette and Adrien have their first kiss for the third time in five seasons, Chloe calls Marinette to tell her about Adrien, but Marinette tells her to piss off, and Chloe ends the episode crying because Astruc thinks she deserves to suffer. THERE. I'M DONE.

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... GABRIEL

Gabriel joins Marinette in earning the Biggest Idiot Award for the third time this season. He had no reason to include Chloe in his stupid plan, he was essentially banking on Ladybug and Cat Noir choosing to do nothing, and tried to create a scenario were Ladybug and Cat Noir wouldn't be able to lose their Miraculous. At least you could argue that Ladybug and Cat Noir needed to stay on the down low at first. Gabriel doesn't get that excuse.

These episodes sucked, but I honestly thought they were slightly better than the last two.

Yeah, all joking aside, I thought these episodes had more positives to them than “Revelation” and “Confrontation”. Where those two episodes were insulting and confusing respectively, these two episodes were the kind of bad I've come to expect from the show. There's plotholes, bad morals, and characters acting like idiots, but it's par for the course. I was far from a fan of these two episodes, but other than the ending of “Revolution”, I was nowhere near as angry I was with “Revelation” and “Confrontation”.

Surprisingly, I was more upset rewatching “Collusion” than I did “Revolution”. Yeah, “Revolution” was bad, but at least Chloe was supposed to be a bad example of how lead a city, unlike what Andre and Ms. Bustier were doing. Those characters both taught bad morals, intentional or not, and just like Ladybug and Cat Noir, were never called out for unintentionally leading to Chloe's rise to power. With Andre, we were supposed to just be expected to be okay with all the times he abused his power as mayor while cheering when he quit with no negative repercussions, and with Ms. Bustier, we were supposed to be okay with her attempting to stage a violent coup against Andre, the character the episode is already trying to make us sympathize with.

Between these two characters, along with Sabrina and Felix, the show really loves operating on the “There's Always a Bigger Fish” rule. It doesn't matter how many bad things you do, if someone else is pulling the strings, you won't get in trouble at all... unless you're Chloe, so, in that case, BURN IN HELL. Like I mentioned earlier, you can acknowledge someone only did bad things because they were pressured to while saying they should at least be held accountable for their actions in some way that doesn't involve kicking them out of the country.

The moral of when it's okay to use violence was pretty confusing, and not just because this is a superhero show where almost every problem is solved by fighting it. Ladybug tries to convince Miss Sans-Culotte that political conflicts shouldn't be solved with violence, but even if she didn't convince her to change her mind, Andre was already ready to resign as mayor, and Miss Sans-Culotte still angrily demanded he resign in a way that sounded like a violent threat. There's also the fact that despite saying that violence isn't always the answer, the conflict that was sort of resolved with no violence ended up making things worse as Chloe was able to seize power once Andre resigned.

Also, it's pretty funny how absolutely nobody ever tried to reason with Chloe after she became mayor, not even Ms. Bustier. In that case, violence was obviously the answer, but the show never really tells us what makes Miss Sans-Culotte better than Chloe. You can't teach an anti-violence moral in one episode and then lead into an episode where violence solves the problem instead of diplomacy. And I'm not one of those saints who believes that every conflict should be handled nonviolently. Sometimes, people won't listen to words, but will at least hear you out if you use your fists. I'd personally argue the conflict of “Revolution” would have worked if had this kind of lesson. Just have Ladybug and Cat Noir tried to solve things with Chloe diplomatically during the first act, only to realize that Chloe won't budge, so they have no choice but to take her out of power themselves. It'd make a hell of a lot more sense than having Marinette and Adrien do nothing while Chloe makes everyone's life miserable because the writers need to pad the runtime.

I already mentioned this, but for an episode that tries to show how awful Chloe is, she barely does anything on her own. She needs Lila to tell her to go along with Gabriel's plan, she needs Gabriel and Tomoe to pretend to give her an army of robots, and she needs Monarch to akumatize her to make the robots even more dangerous. If you need another character to do something to make Chloe a threat, why should we only see Chloe as the threat? These two episodes keep going back and forth on whether Chloe is the worst or not. When they're not showing her taking control of Paris on her own like should be doing, the writers take the time to remind the audience that Lila and Gabriel are pulling Chloe around by telling her what to do, all while they each muse about how this is all going according to keikaku. If you want to make Chloe a threat and have her live up to her reputation as a terrible human being, she should actually have agency and should be cunning enough to be a dangerous villain in her own right.

Unlike with “Confrontation”, which gave more focus to side characters for some reason, “Revolution” actually focused on the main characters and their conflict with Chloe, like we should have gotten with Lila. Yeah, Ladybug and Cat Noir wait far too long to stop her, but unlike with Lila last episode, they at least had a semblance of a reason for hesitating to beat up a civilian. Either way, it felt like an obstacle that Ladybug and Cat Noir actually overcame together instead of someone else helping them out at the last second. Yeah, the Miraculous boost was a glorified deus ex machina, but it was at least a thing established in the show since Season 3.

Even the stuff with Chloe actually felt like stuff she would do, unlike in Season 4, which tried to give her an interest in bananas and soccer for the sake of giving her screentime as a villain (Queen Banana, Penalteam). When Chloe had free reign of the city, she actually did stuff on her own that was clever, like the detention setup. We really needed more of this Chloe for the past two seasons if the writers wanted to make her work as a villain, yet they waited until the end of the fifth season to actually do something interesting, and that was after she was told what to do for most of the episode.

And then there's how the conflict was resolved. It's really hard to buy Ladybug and Cat Noir “growing up” and unlocking the full power of their Miraculous, because just like when it was first established in Season 3, it's such a vague term, and only leaves you asking more questions. Neither Marinette or Adrien really had a big moment of personal growth this episode. Yeah, Adrien wanted to tell Marinette about London, but he had been trying to do that since Chloe first took over as mayor. While it's a decent piece of character development after keeping it secret for the past few episodes, it doesn't really do a lot to justify Adrien “growing up”.

Then again, at least Adrien actually got a moment to show his growth compared to Marinette. All she did before she “grew up” was tell the citizens of Paris to keep fighting, but it was such a vague speech and doesn't really scream becoming an adult. If she was going to sacrifice her identity or do something dangerous in order to stop Chloe, that could have worked. Instead, what I can assume was her big moment came after she defeated Chloe, the call at the end, and even then, it was just her telling Chloe how much she sucks, something she's never been afraid to say since the show started. Once again, if you need to tell the audience your show has character development, you're not good at writing character development.

Overall, while these episodes were both really bad, I still think they're at least more tolerable than the previous two.

And with that, I am officially done with the poorly written Chloe episodes. Sure, I still have three more episodes until I finish Season 5, but least this means Astruc will hopefully stop using her in the show, or at least ranting about her on Twitter. Maybe I'll make a character analysis post about her or talk about her during the overview post, but for now...

[xoxo-nikki-xoxo]

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

All I go to say is what the hell has been up?!?! This has been a long wait coming. Who knows am I back to writing full time yes well kinda. Should you expect me to be uploading more this year yes. So have fun with this request I finally finished LMFAO!!

Prompt: "That child gets his/her attitude from you" "No, no that child is all yours, not mine" with Klaus

Watching your children play never seemed to be a dull moment. It was always “Mommy Hope hit me” or, “Daddy said I can have this blah blah blah”. Don’t get Y/N wrong though. She loved her two kids. Hope Mikaelson was your oldest child. She was everything you could have asked for. A sweet intelligent baby who listened. Then there was Destiny. Your youngest baby. She was such a sweet calm baby. Then the terrible twos hit. Just when you thought you had parenting under control or thought you knew everything. No, you don’t. Destiny did not listen. She was not only a troublemaker but also a daredevil. Not caring about her own safety or the safety of others. She also learned how to pin her parents against each other.

“Mamma” Destiny says pulling on your pant leg “Uppie?” She asked holding her arms for you to pick her up

With a sigh, you reached down and picked your daughter up. You smiled wrapping your arms around her as you rocked a little while standing “You didn’t sleep that long this afternoon De. Baby want to try to nap again?” You asked her rubbing her back softly

“No!!” Destiny says crossing her arms and starting to pout

“I think that was a secretly a yes,” you say starting to make your way through the compound to her room

“Daddy” Destiny whined shaking her head no as you carried her up the stairs.

“Baby daddy is off with Hope he won’t be ho-“ you say until your husband just so effortlessly comes home

“A little birdie told me someone needs a nap?” Klaus says from the top of the stairs

And just by the sound of his voice destiny was turning around in your arms reaching for him. With ease, he took her from your arms tossing her in the air and catching her making her giggles echo through the whole house

“See little bird, this whole place is our kingdom,” Klaus says starting to walk to her room. You followed behind interested to hear how he gets her to go to sleep “All of New Orleans your daddy rules.”

“Being the king that I am It is my job to protect our family” Klaus says laying her down on her bed

“Daddy no I don-“ she starts to whine. You’re in the doorframe leaning against it watching as the meltdown starts to boil. You should step in and help him tell this story but just something about watching him be a dad. It’s just. Breathtaking

“Now now dear. Let me finish the story” he says sternly making Destiny pout but obeys. He clears his throat “Being the princess you are you have a role too” he says tucking some hair behind her ear “like playing all day, listening to your queen and king.” He says gesturing to himself and you.

“Now once upon a time there was a king and Queen who ruled all over New Orleans” Klaus begins

Destiny pouts taking in a deep breath “I don’t want it” she says crossing her arms

Klaus sighs “Fine then, you are taking a nap one way or the other,” he says standing up and walking towards you as Destiny starts screaming/ crying. Full-blown tantrum. Without messing a beat you step into the hallway trying your best to control your laughter. Klaus is visibly upset their daughter is having a tantrum and decides to let her cry it out, meanwhile, her cries shake the house a little.

He comes out of the room shutting the door behind her “This is not a funny matter” he scuffs “That child gets her attitude from you” Klaus says glaring at you as you laugh basically in his face

“No no baby, that child is all yours not mine,” you say walking over to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek “Sometimes it’s just nice to see you fail is all” you add smiling at the end as you walk towards her room.

“Sometimes it’s just nice to see you fail” he mocks you smiling though

“See what I mean. You are all attitude” you add kissing his lips before going back into your daughter's room to hold her while she falls asleep.

Klaus this time in the door frame watching you too “she is for sure mine” he says watching his girls before Hope calls out to him. “Coming little wolf” he replies then he’s off in an instant.

[grippingbeskar]

unearthed

chapter one - matched

warnings— canon typical violence, mentions of death, loss, injury, maybe a lil trauma

a/n— and we’re back! just over a year of having this account, and the end of season three, and i’m back where i started. thirsting after the mandalorian. i’m super excited about this one, and even though i think there will be a bit of a wait between chapters i promise its because they are going to be higher quality. also, obviously there will be smut further on (come on, it’s me. of course we are going to fuck him.) so no minors please!! hope you enjoy! big thank-you to @kyberblade for beta reading and saving me from my typos i love u.

also a psa. disregard season three for this fic. it fucked up my timeline so i’m changing it. things might be a bit all over the place, but it’s just going to be what i wanna do with it HAHAH no rhyme or reason :)

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You stared out into the never ending darkness, interspersed by twinkling hints of far away planets, all of them seeming more and more out of reach as you were shuffled out into the hall. Flanked by guards, the view from your room disappeared from sight, replaced by the familiar, safe walls of your palace. This was your life now— being shoved towards the known and away from those giant stretches of sky you longed so much for. Your duty, you say to yourself. This was the way you had to live, destined to the confines of your pre-determined universe. It is what you were born to do.

You knew this day would come. You were, as you were constantly, incessantly reminded, the last of the royal bloodline. After your parents early death, it left you as heir and sole survivor to the throne. All of your life, you had been trained for this moment, but it was something that was always so...distant. 

You used to look forward to this time in your life, where you’d get to travel the galaxy, finally earning some of that coveted freedom all the other girls in the palace talked about. You dreamed of seeing the galaxy, being unknown on an Outer Rim planet, going wherever your heart takes you. You thought you’d have time to live. But then, within the blink of an eye, you were rushed through your coronation and left to carry the burden of commanding an entire planet. It was like a rug was ripped out from underneath you, all while someone dropped a fifty pound weight over your head, all the while chiding you for stumbling over. 

In the wake of the Empire finally falling around the galaxy, planets all around the suns were scrambling— resources were scarce, trade routes were un-secure and stability was out of reach. This was the same for you, because the future of your planet was now in your hands, and you had no idea what to make of it. 

Unfortunately for you, stability in a woman’s world came in the form of a contract. Most usually, a marriage contract.

This meant, much to your dismay, an entourage of young, hopeful (and practically brainless) men arriving on your doorstep, all popping the question in hopes of securing the new Queen's hand in marriage. Your hand. You knew your planet was important and appealing, with its natural resources, expanding economy in spite of the Empire’s devastation, and an abundance of funds for all the newest technologies with the death of two of the greatest ruling minds of the time. Any leader of even a remotely nearby planet would strike on this opportunity— you know you would, if it were someone else.

The whole idea wasn’t new, but it still made your gut twist. Your parents were lucky they had something more– real love, and a home filled with the stuff of fairytales. While you knew this was rare, it made you long for that. Knowing it was real, that a connection like that could be somewhere out there for you, but you’d never reach it because you never got the chance to try... you knew you were lucky, but it didn’t stop your heart from longing for more.  You wanted someone to show you the stars, to let you be you, and not just try to win you like a prize or a notch in their belt. 

Everyone around you said this was the smart thing to do. Choose someone— anyone who would bring you what you wanted. Your planet, as fertile as it is, is not famous for its army. That was clear during the reign of the Empire, and now the New Republic was thinning their guard posts after the war, you needed manpower. You knew it was a necessity, and you wanted to keep your people safe, but to offer yourself up like a prized mare? You were a Queen, and you were planning to be a good one, with or without a husband.

As you sat on the throne, dismissing yet another suitor with a shake of your head, the collective group of your father’s– now your own Advisors groaned, and one walked up the steps, approaching you with a slightly bowed head.

“Your Majesty, if I may…” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, only because you knew the watchful gaze of neighbouring planet leaders were on you.

“I have a feeling you will anyway.” He shook his head, quickly coming up the stairs to your side. He sighs, and you shrug at him. “What? He wasn’t my type, okay? If I’m going to sleep with the man, I should at least–”

“Your Majesty, this is the fourteenth potential match you have rejected. We are a coveted planet, but if you do not choose someone, we run the risk of having no options at all.” He says, looking down his nose at where you are strung lazily across your throne. He was still harbouring some of that anger from earlier, where you had refused to change into the giant mess of a gown the styling team had chosen for you. If the colour wasn’t enough– a pale puke green measurable to the blood of a Trandoshaan– the fabric was so expansive you would have drowned in it. You loved a pretty dress, but at least one that didn’t eat you whole.

“Would that be so bad?” You dropped your head back, and he shook his head, sighing again. 

“Yes— it would mean instability. We would be a target for neighbouring planets. We are strong, but not strong enough to be alone. The New Republic has already thinned their guards to a ghost number compared to four years ago. We cannot wait any longer. We are… vulnerable, without a strong army.”

“We can make allies without forcing me to marry one of them.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. We would never force you to do anything.” He says those words, but every syllable is laced with warning. You may be the last living member of your blood line, but no matter how important, and no matter how beloved by your people you are, there were some things that you couldn’t control.

The worst part was he was right. Sure, you could solidify alliances, but a marriage was a lock and key. If you picked the right one, your people would be safe for years to come, long after you were successful. After what you had seen of the Empire, what they had done here, and all over the galaxy, your people deserved safety. Freedom— whatever the cost.

Your love for your people would get you through this. In them, you saw your parents legacy, and the passion to build something greater than yourself. You would never trade this life for anything... but it didn’t mean you couldn’t have preferences. Just as you were going to justify why you rejected the man now sneering at you from the corner of the room, the doors burst open, and your attention is diverted to the messenger rushing in with a strange look on his face.

“Your Majesty, we’ve just received another request.” He calls, breathless. “I’m sorry to interrupt. It’s… I am not sure how to say this.”

The man is clearly nervous— avoiding your eye and instead staring at his feet. You rise off the throne and move to him, attempting a comforting smile and nodding at him. 

“It’s alright. Start at the beginning.”

“This request… It is unusual.” He swallows, and you laugh lightly.

“What is it this time? Don’t tell me the Hutts have thrown themselves into the mix.” You had nothing against them right now, but they were so… slimy. “Whoever it is, as long as they send a message in peace, they will be well received.”

“Well, that is the thing. They do not ask Your Majesty to receive them. They…”

“They don’t want to come here?” Already, you are breathing a sigh of relief. Anything to stop the constant parade of men flapping their money and stupid hair around.

“No, they ask that… they ask that you come to them.” He finishes, and your advisors are next to him in an instant, all attempting to speak over one another. You raise your eyebrows, surprised, but intrigued.

“That is an insult!” The man who challenged you before, known to you as Advisor Corell, spits at the messenger. “Her Majesty only receives guests— she does not travel unless there is cause.”

“Did they say anything else?” You ask, and the room goes quiet again as you step forward. The messenger looks uncomfortable, knowing there are still foreign diplomats in the room. “Everyone else, please go. You’ll be... informed of my decision later.”

The entire room exits quickly at the sound of your voice, all mumbling to themselves, probably still hurt over your rejection and blatant disinterest, but all you could care about was this new message.

“It’s alright. Go ahead.” You encourage. “What else did they say?”

“They asked for your hand, of course. They have a new King, and think the match would be beneficial to both sides.” A new King. Your mind buzzes, trying to think if you’d heard of any close planets going through a succession besides your own. Nothing comes to mind, but if he was new, at least this one would hopefully be closer to your age.

“A new King?” The messenger nods. “And he asked for me personally?”

“Ah... the message was not from him, Your Majesty. It was a hologram from a member of his court. A… Bo-Katan.” You had never heard the name before, but one of your advisors makes a noise of recognition and you spin to her.

“You know this name?” You ask Advisor Kaylen— probably your favourite member and the closest thing you have to a friend. She nods eagerly. “You’ve met them?”

“I have heard it before, but that would be impossible…” She fades off, and you turn back to the messenger. 

“This is the most interesting person I’ve heard of since this whole thing started. What’s impossible?” You watch the messenger's face twist, so you reach out and touch his shoulder, the contact surprising him and earning a disapproving hum from Advisor Corell. “You can tell me, just ignore him. I do.”

“Well, that’s just the thing. The planet they claim to come from has been long abandoned.” Advisor Kaylen was still muttering to herself, but you couldn’t focus on her anymore when the messenger finally spoke again. “They say they are calling from Mandalore, and that their new King has asked for you to be his Queen.”

“Stop asking me about that.” Din growled, stopping his swift movement through the makeshift repair station he’d been pulling together. “I’m not interested.”

“This isn’t just about you anymore.” The longer he spent with these Mandalorians, the more the thought of taking off with their precious Dark-Saber and leaving seemed appealing. “An alliance like this is exactly what we need. With all the repairs, we’ve run low in funds. We need resources— we need to outsource, and this is the fastest way to do it. She’s all but waving a flag for us.”

He never thought there would be a time when bounty hunting was the normalcy he craved— but standing surrounded by relics of his people long passed, discussing a potential marriage—he started to miss the reliable frame of the Razor Crest a little too much.

“Mandalore was built on the backs of our people. We can do it again, the same way.” Bo-Katan sighs, giving him a glare after removing her helmet. “Would you do this? Was this a part of your plan to re-take Mandalore?”

“They didn’t have a dwindling empire and economic crisis to deal with. If you do this, we can rebuild the way our ancestors wanted us to live. How we used to live. Welcome our family home. Isn’t that what you want?” He spins, taking two slow steps to face Bo-Katan, who stands with her helmet tucked under her arm. “To answer your question— yes. I would have. I was royalty once, and I know what this is like. And I would still do it. You might even make a friend in her, Din.”

“You aren’t suggesting friends.” To her credit, she doesn’t back down, just raises her eyebrows at him. “You are asking me to get married. You know what that means.”

“It’s not like that. Rulers marry for all kinds of reasons— and if she’s looking, it means she wants to take full advantage of this. It’s the smart thing to do. Her planet is powerful, but vulnerable. Their army numbers are small after the Empire’s attacks, and she needs what we can offer now the Rebellion is squaring off. Good, strong fighters. Besides, I’m sure you aren’t exactly all she hoped for, either. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hardly see her after the first few months.” Rolling her eyes, she turns back to the pile of spare parts they had dragged in from outside. “We’ve already sent a hologram inviting her here. If she accepts, you can discuss a potential alliance like adults. If you are still opposed, we’ll cancel it and try it your way. Until then, we have work to do.”

“Send another message. Say I’m no longer interested.” Din stands impossibly still, waiting for Bo-Katan to agree and leave before he lets out a long breath. Clearly, he’d misjudged how set on this idea she was.

“Just think about it, okay?” She turns and disappears from view, and he feels like he’s going to collapse under the pressure. Things were complicated enough— in the last month, he’d learnt his way of life was not the only way at all, inherited a saber he had little idea how to use, and dropped everything he knew to come back home— to Mandalore. To say he had enough on his plate was an understatement.

Truthfully, he had come back with one thing on his mind. The Way declared one could only truly be forgiven for their misdeeds in the living waters beneath the mines of Mandalore— and Din had a lot to be forgiven for. If there was anywhere he could start fresh, it was here, but before he could do that, he had to find the mines, currently buried under years worth of rubble and debris. The last thing he needed was to disgrace himself in yet another way— which is exactly what Bo-Katan and the other Mandalorian’s were suggesting.

He was not ready for this. Not in any way. He was not a ruler— not a born and bred leader, like Bo-Katan, and he’d never wanted to be. It might have made sense to an outsider, maybe. A new, untested ruler of a planet as economic as yours was bound to attract unwanted attention, and about the only thing Mandalore could offer right now was its ability to fight. It was the only thing it was known for.

He didn’t want to marry, though. Not for a political alliance. He didn’t think about it at all— not right now. He’d heard a few things about you by now— how your parents had passed suddenly, and how you were now being squashed into the same situation as he was, forced to play a role which you had no choice in being cast to. He felt as sorry for you as he did for himself, and he found his thoughts drifting to the Child.

Din looked around, exhausted at just the thought of getting this place into any form of working order. Spare parts to old ships scattered on the floor, and the room was painted in a light purple hue thanks to the reflection of the glass roof overhead. He stood, leaving the mess of a garage and walking back out towards the largest building in this city.

There were streets lined with cracked stone, several Mandalorians dragging and pulling equipment to replace the broken ones. They had been working hard— everyone had, including him, and the place was looking less and less like a war zone by the second. The sight made him feel easier. At least his home wouldn’t be rubble forever. Buildings were gaining foundations, others entirely rebuilt by hand. It had only been a month or two, and already this place was looking like he’d been told in the stories. Like home.

As he walked through them, he didn’t miss the stares of those who’d left their helmets behind, but at least that was familiar. Everyone stared, on every planet he went to, and even with the oddly shaped buildings, some spiralling high, others flat and long enough to park a few speeders in the front, he felt settled here. The cities were huge and spanned far into the horizon, too long to walk everywhere, so the Mandalorians had gone straight to work on the speeder parts, using them to zip around not only around this central city, but between other parts of the planet.

Finally, he began the walk up the steps of the castle. It was giant— bulky and boxed, rooms stacked on top of each other with seemingly no purpose. It was the most well conserved building on the planets surface, and it was what constituted as a home for Din. For now, at least. Either way, it was the safest place to keep Grogu during the day, and he would go wherever it was safest for him.

He could hear him before he saw him, loud chirps and gurgles coming from the throne room. One, giant looking chair was elevated by a few steps at the end of the room, and he saw a flip of green zip over Sasha’s unmasked head.

“Get down here, you gremlin.” She barked, but laughed at Grogu’s slightly worried face when he spun to a stop in mid air. It was then he finally noticed him, dropping to the ground and wandering over. “He’s been a little pain in my—“

“Patu!” Grogu chirps, and Din laughs roughly, bending down to pick him up. He holds him in front of his helmet, watching as his tiny hands reach out to grab his gloved wrists.

“Have you been causing trouble, Grogu?” He makes a little gurgle sound, like he always does when Din says his name, and he smiles under the helmet.

“Bo-Katan was looking for you.” Sasha says, putting her helmet back on. Most Mandalorian’s that lived around the capital did that when they spoke to him, now, even ones as high ranking as Sasha. Din doesn’t look up from Grogu’s giant eyes.

“She found me. And my answer is still no.” He hears her laugh, but when he looks up at her, she stops.

“She didn’t tell you?” Din turns to face her, letting the kid fiddle with something on his armour.

“Tell me what?” Unlike Bo-Katan, Sasha is a little afraid of him. Everyone is, especially since they had seen him fight with the DarkSaber when they first arrived on the planet. Since then, there had been a quiet fear, a commanding presence Din didn’t think he had earnt, but regardless it was there. She swallowed, tilting her helmet down to the floor. “Tell me.”

“The Queen replied. She accepted your invitation, and is expected to arrive within the week. She also implied, if the meeting goes well— she…”

“She what? What did she say?” Din had no idea why, but his heart was racing a mile a minute. Had she been insulted by the offer? Was she going to stage an attack?

“She said she would marry you.”

“You said I would what?” You shout at the group of advisors, all of whom look like they are about to scramble and run. And they should. “Who’s bright idea was it to send correspondence, with my name attached, without my go-ahead?! What the hell kind of advisor does that?!”

None of them so much as moved, except for Advisor Kaylen, who caught your eye, making a pointed look at Advisor Corell. You shook your head, and a bitter smile curled the ends of your mouth.

“I should have known. Corell. Get up.” He spluttered, stumbling to his feet as you dragged him up the dais, and forced him to his knees. “Was it you? Did you tell Mandalore I would accept their invitation?!”

He shakes his head. “I only said you would meet with them! Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“When I was ready!” You want to scream, but your embarrassment and nerves choke your throat. Yes, you were going to accept. Probably. Maybe a month from now... a few months, if you could stretch it. Not this week.

“This is a good thing! Now you get to go! To— to see the cursed land for yourself. To look upon its new ruler! I was only doing what I thought was best! They would have been insulted if we had rejected…and we’re running out of options.”

“The only one insulted here is me, that you truly believe I would buy any of the shit that comes out of your mouth.” He was on thin ice as it was, but your fathers words played in your head, and you saw the faces of your other Advisors in the corner of your eye.

Your father had selected this team of people because he trusted them, and for some reason, you did too. You didn’t know why, or how they were picked, but they were supposed to be the six people you could rely on. The six people who would challenge you, who wouldn’t blindly accept your decision like the rest of the planet. They were a tradition— to ensure the sanity of a ruler and the safety of a planet. You trusted them; or you would, eventually, but they would not overstep. Or at least, they shouldn’t.

“My father trusted you. It is that reason alone that I will let you continue to work underneath me, and forgive this lapse in judgment. But this is the one chance you will receive. I might not be my father, but you work for me now. If you choose to disobey me or do anything without me specifically telling you again, I will send you to Mandalore in my stead, and the King can have you in my place. We will see how far you make it in the ruins before he cuts you down.” They all scurry from the room, Advisor Corell not glancing back as he heads for the door after you drop him.

All that is left is Kaylen, who doesn’t need a title when it’s just you and her. She was a friend— perhaps your only one, so you only used her title around the other Advisors.

“That was exciting.” She says, and you flop down onto the cushioned throne, golden pillows softening the blow as she comes to lean on the armrest. “It’s been too long since we had some real palace gossip.”

“Well, hold on to that, because you might be shipping me off to marry a fish. He’s like a ghost— I couldn’t find anything on the King, and now I’m supposed to just…go?” You sigh, swinging your feet over the edge of the chair and letting your head fall into her lap. “This is insanity. This entire month has been suitor after suitor, none of them with armies strong enough to keep our planet safe. And now it’s like I don’t even have a... it all just happened so fast.”

“I know. You were right to reject them all. But this one is... it’s different.” You sit up, turning to face her.

“You think I should go?”

“Are you asking me as an Advisor, or as a friend?”

“Both.” The throne is huge, made for the large frame of your father, so she can slide right in next to you.

“Well, as your Advisor, Mandalore is famous for one thing— war. Sure, they have lost a tonne, but when they were at their peak, they were unstoppable. Feared throughout the galaxy. With our help, they could be that again. Even having the name attached to us would scare off any potential threats for a while. They are good fighters, they could teach our people ways we would never learn ourselves, and one day we could even be allies. Especially if this goes well.” She sits up when she speaks, and even though she’s only a few years older than you, she seems light years ahead. You understand why your father chose her.

“And as my friend?” She swings an arm over your shoulder.

“As your friend, I think you need this. I think that you haven’t changed a single thing about the palace since you have been crowned because you know once you do, this is real and your parents are gone. I think you know this is the right thing to do, but you’re scared, and you think that when you do this, you’ll finally be alone, and you hate that.” You’re thankful she’s not looking at you because you almost start crying as soon as she mentions your parents. “I think you know that this is different. That this could be a defining moment for you. For your reign. For the planet to come back after the Empire.”

“Why do you have to be right about everything?” You say tightly, and she helps you stand off the throne, leading you towards your bedroom through the maze of winding corridors.

“Just lucky. And, hey, don’t look so sad. Rumor has it he wears a very pretty beskar suit. All shiny and silver. You love shiny stuff.” She gestures at the hallways, all lined with golden and silver detailing. You nudge her on the shoulder and she laughs, peeling off before you open the door to your bedroom.

It was technically your parents room— the room you grew up in now vacated for your future offspring. You didn’t mind, using the room helped you feel a little bit closer to your parents. You remember all the times you’d climbed into bed with them, buried under the covers because you were afraid of the dark.

Kaylen was right. Corell was right, even if he was an asshole. It was selfish to not accept an offer. You hated that you couldn’t do more for your people, that all you had to offer was your arm, but if that was what you needed to do right now, you should just... suck it up. A Mandalorian, though. That was different. You knew they were feared, although scattered throughout the galaxy, and if their words were true, an entire planet of them would make you virtually impenetrable.

You couldn’t help but think about the King. Mandalorians were a confusing bunch, the few you had met, anyways. Very quiet, lethal as anything, and in your experience, solitary. Your mother had hired one years ago to collect a bounty for her, and he completed the four day job in three hours, arriving and leaving on his own, hardly talking if he didn’t have to. Why would someone like that want to be married?

Shrinking out of your outfit, you decided to try and get some sleep. If tomorrow was going to be anything like today, you’d need all the rest you could get, and for some reason, there was a racing in your heart you couldn’t settle. Maybe just nerves from the incoming visit to Mandalore tomorrow.

That had to be it. The myths, legends surrounding the cursed world— it would make anyone nervous. But it was just that. Nerves. It couldn’t be anything else.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

[sinofthesloth]

𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕪 𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤?

synopsis: How would the first year react to being on a “study date” with you.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ FT. Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, and Sebek ♥

★彡[ᴀᴄᴇ ᴛʀᴀᴘᴘᴏʟᴀ]彡★

You didn’t technically ask him to go on a study date, but it was the only way Riddle was going to let him spend time with you.

Everyone knew you both like each other, but Riddle was very strict when it comes to... anything really. There was rules to everything with Riddle. During the time Ace wanted to ask you on a date, or to hang out to get closer to you, Riddle would interrupt about some rule made by a long dead queen.

You saw Riddle trying to drag Ace into a study secession with himself and Deuce after the issue with Azul. Being tired of constant interruptions, you told Riddle that you asked Ace to help you study for the upcoming basic healing magic test. Riddle said you could join the three of them, and that’s how you ended up here. Sitting next to Ace.

While Riddle and Deuce focused on math, Ace stared boringly at the words on the page. The knowledge of the magic was both interesting to learn about, but boring since you couldn’t perform it. 

Ace, even though he was sitting next to you, was passing you notes under the table. Some were funny, some were cute. But the best ones were the bad drawings of Riddle. They were stick figures with its mouth open and hold a shitty drawing of Riddle’s staff and crown with a bubble saying, “I love to get in the way of love. It goes against the rules to love anyone other than the rules.”

You’d snicker at each one and pass your own notes back. It was like the two of you were in middle school. 

 Sometimes you’d point to a word and laugh as Ace tried to pronounce it in the dumbest ways. Clearly fucking the word only for Riddle to correctly pronounce it. 

When he would try to look at the book with you, he’d place his hand over yours for some kind of contact, but he’d never tell you that. He’d lie and say he didn’t notice. Only to not let your hand go until you had to turn the page.

You did distract Deuce a few times as Ace would continue trying to make you laugh. 

No real studying was done, much to Riddle’s disappointment. 

★彡[ᴅᴇᴜᴄᴇ ꜱᴘᴀᴅᴇ]彡★

He asked you to help him study last minute. 

He normally studies with Riddle, Trey, or Cater, but all three were busy with their own upcoming tests, and he didn’t trust Ace to actually help him study.

The two of you are at Ramshackle so neither of you will be embarrassed about some of the dumb questions the other would most definitely be asking. 

“Wait so, if you don’t stir the potions in the proper direction, I could mess up the entire recipe?”

“I mean, probably. There must be a reason people purposely put which direction to stir it.” 

Deuce, though lovable, is an idiot. He summoned a cauldron, almost dropped it on you, and then halfway through making a mock potion, realized neither of you had all the needed items. So in your pajamas, you both walked to very much closed botanical garden. His test was in the morning and poor guy was panicking over not being able to get one last chance to practice. 

You both had to talk the other out of breaking in. You wanted to do it so he would feel better about the test. He also wanted to do it to get more practice. But neither of you wanted to deal with Crewel’s anger over the thieving, broken glass, and your poor time management.

He ending up spending the night because the two of you fell asleep in the lounge area to him repeating the ten potential potion’s recipes.

★彡[ᴊᴀᴄᴋ ʜᴏᴡʟ]彡★

You asked him if the two of you could study together. 

Seeing it was you that needed help, he wasn’t really focused on studying himself. 

He had you sitting on the floor in front of the couch so he could play with your hair and help you when or if you needed it. Jack kept the things around Ramshackle from completely falling apart while you tried to study.

Ace needs help running from Riddle? Jack lets him inside due to you telling him to, but the second he distracts you? Jack is calling Riddle.

Deuce coming over to join you while studying? Jack has you sitting in the middle with his arm around you to read off your text book. He will also use that hand to make sure Deuce pays attention to his own work by putting his hand on the top of his head to turn it. “You need to read your work too.”

Jack enjoys these little study dates because the way you light up when he tells you that you’re right. He loves seeing the smile it puts on your face and seeing you get excited for more of his praise. 

★彡[ᴇᴘᴇʟ ꜰᴇʟᴍɪᴇʀ]彡★

He asked you. At first he was telling himself it was to get away from Vil, but then it shifted into wanting to see you more. 

He started coming over to Ramshackle so much under the excuse of studying that Vil and Rook asked to join. It’s not that they didn’t believe him but his grades didn’t move any in the last test. 

Epel didn’t say yes, but he also didn’t say no, so they showed up about thirty minutes after Epel should have arrived to Ramshackle. They knock and Grim was the one who opened the door. “If you’re looking for the country boy, he’s in the living area with MY henchman.” Grim clearly didn’t like the fact your time was being spent on someone else.

When the pair walked into the living area, they saw you and Epel reading out of the same book. It seems Epel hadn’t brought his study stuff. 

Neither of you notice the duo as the looked at the two of you. Epel began muttering something as he waved his magic pen and a green mist coated the apple he tapped. 

Vil and Rook didn’t metal with either of you as you both tried to figure out why It hadn’t worked. Epel seemed a bit upset it didn’t work and glared daggers at it. “Maybe it was because you weren’t speaking how you normally do?”

Epel tried again without attempting to sound proper. “In all honesty I prefer your accent. No one else around here sounds like you.”

It still didn't work.

"Speak louder and with more confidence. The more you mumble, the harder casting will be." Vil spoke to make himself present.

All four of you continued studying with minimal

★彡[ꜱᴇʙᴇᴋ ᴢɪɢᴠᴏʟᴛ]彡★

You invited him, but he originally said no. He is only here because Lilia told him that Malleus thought it would be interesting to study with a human from another world. 

Sebek promised him that he would study with you and retell him everything about the study session. I didn’t see it as a date. At first.

You decided to study in the living room since he opened his mouth about how decrypt the dorm was as soon as he walked in. You tried not to let it get to you since you knew he spoke his thoughts as soon as they entered his mind.

You brought your books down as he set himself up to begin studying, and even asked if he wanted anything to snack on. Bringing a plate of cookies and a few pillows to sit on. 

Sebek didn’t ask for anything during the time the two of you studied. Every now and then you had to ask him about the history of something, and he’d answer. After answering a question, he’d take a cookie and return to his own studies. Without realizing it, he began anticipating your questions. Sitting and waiting for you to ask anything about fae history.

You made the mistake of asking about past fae rulers.

At this point, he seemed to have forgotten about his study. He was going on and on about each past ruler. Telling stories of his grandfather's travels with a magnificent, blood-red haired fae. You wrote everything down. The material didn't even fit the parameters of the questions asked. It was simply to read them over and over again, hoping to ingrain the way Sebek faces lit up when speaking of his family's past.

Once he got to speaking on how Malleus was going to make a great leader and how he couldn't wait to guard him with his life, his eyes met yours. A smile graced your face as you looked back to your work.

"The next time I come over, we can discuss further on the matter. You must know next to nothing of the subject and you're lucky I care about your studies."

Maybe he wouldn't share the discovery of how sweet your cookies are or how his chest tightened when he saw how immersed you were with his topic. Maybe he could be a little selfish when it came to his studies with you.

[ultrainfinitepit]

Town of Puddle: Vampires

Last updated 08/14/2023

In the world of Puddle, vampire is a catch-all term for any humanoid creature that needs to consume something from a human to survive - usually human flesh or blood, but some subsist on other things such as emotions, dreams, etc. The most common vampire is the classic undead vampire. Vampires are usually immortal or very long-lived. 

While vampires are thought to have any number of origins, there is in fact one singular origin from which they descend. The first vampires were nephilim, the children of the demon Asherah and the angel Rapha. Asherah was the queen of a kingdom named Hell. Tales of this kingdom and her rule would pass through the ages and become distorted into mythology. Rapha was an angel of blood with a terrible hunger his children would inherit. Both are long dead and gone, but their influence on their descendants lingers. Common vampiric powers, such as glamours and shapeshifting, come from these ancient ancestors.

Asherah and Rapha’s children were destined to rule, for a time anyway, over all corners of the earth. Some were more suited to the forests or mountains or cities, others to the sea or even the skies. These first vampires would eventually give rise to all the different types of vampires we see today.

The kingdoms of vampires were matriarchal, modeled after Asherah’s own kingdom. Matriarchs are a special type of vampire suited to rule, and childbirth. Mundane vampires have difficulty bearing children, most being completely infertile. Natural-born vampires are thus rare but not unheard of. Most vampires nowadays are turned, from human to vampire as other creatures are immune or will simply die to vampirism.

A childe (plural, childer) is a vampire that has been turned by another, who is their sire. One of the few remaining widespread cultural norms for vampires, is that a sire has some degree of responsibility for their childer shortly after they are turned, and it is good practice to teach them local vampire rules, history, and etiquette.

While most vampires prefer solitary existences, many vampires form groups for mutual support. These groups often vie for power in shadowy undergrounds that exist away from human eyes. A vampire group might be called a gang, a pack, or a coven.

Below are my named vampires so far. If you’re curious about even more, @wyrmzier also has their own Puddle vampire characters you can ask about.

Vivian Moon used to be human, but she was turned into a vampire. She is like a siphonophore, a colony inhabiting a human form. Because she is a colony of organisms she can survive grave injuries or even dismemberment, for short periods of time. When her limbs are separated from her body they have their own intelligence, like an octopus’s. Vivian works as a forensic consultant for a special precinct dedicated to investigating monster-related crimes. 

Ethel Stone is Vivian’s friend in City Hall, who keeps her informed of political goings-on and secretly helps out her fellow vampires. Ethel is a lamprey vampire.

Teutho Melua is a vampiric pirate captain with a love of theatrics and parties. He is Vivian and Mordecai’s sire. Teutho is initially very narcissistic and bloodthirsty, but after some character development he becomes slightly less narcissistic. He is still bloodthirsty.

Mordecai Esadze is Teutho’s first mate. He is dark, serious, and grumpy, to balance Teutho’s more flashy personality. Mordecai is responsible and secretly more of a softie than he lets on.

Adelaide is Mordecai’s childe, his only one. As a human she sought the change, vampires call these sorts of humans “bite-chasers.” Now she manages a modest network of underground clubs and casinos, and in her spare time enjoys breeding snakes.

Lilian Heather is the adopted daughter of Samuel, and an up-and-coming actress.

Melanthios is an ancient vampire, thousands of years old and now more monstrous than humanoid. He is Menodora’s mate.

Malakos was the youngest of Menodora’s children, a cruel and egotistical vampire who controlled a small criminal empire on the Black Sea. He was Teutho’s sire, and was killed by Teutho and Mordecai.

Hyacinth is another of Malakos's childer, who pursues Teutho for a time.

Chise is Vivian’s mother, a bakeneko vampire. She abandoned Vivian at a young age, leaving her with no knowledge of her heritage.

Lycan was an ancient vampire, a child of Rapha and Asherah. His pursuit of a cure for vampirism led to the creation of werewolves.

Felisity is an ancient cat vampire, and a Matriarch. She was a queen of a small kingdom and was worshipped as an aspect of the goddess Bastet for many years, but eventually was dethroned and went into hiding.

[slasher-dasher]

Hey Aster 😊

I love the way you write about the slashers 🤌🏻 My favourite one is the RZ! Micheal Myers ones 💓

Can I please request a Brahms heelshire SFW and NSFW shot? If possible ♥️

I really love that wall man 😫

I ALSO REALLY LOVE THAT WALL MAN!!! He and rz!Myers have a chokehold on my mind rn

Brahms Heelshire Oneshots

︶꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

(gn!reader for both, NSFW w/tags below the line :> )

Priorities (SFW)

Brahms’ chest rose and fell with each gentle breath, small snores slipping out as he slept. His curled-up form covering only a tiny portion of the queen-sized bed, one that he hadn’t slept in in years. It was nice. It was warm. It was… comfortable. He missed this bed, this room. All those years merely being a witness to the room that he once grew up in, and he was finally able to enjoy the space again. An arm shifting around him caught his attention, a soft smile forming over his lips at the sleeping figure on the other side of the bed. His most recent nanny lay in the space, one arm lazily thrown across his waist while their face was buried in the pillow. This one hadn’t thought taking care of the doll was a joke at first, much like all the others did. No, they cared for him as if they were made to, and in a way, they were. Brahms traced his fingers over the curves of their face, being careful not to wake the sleeping form. The way a soft blush bloomed across the cheeks almost instantly always made him giggle, and he loved the curve of the jaw and how it contrasted so beautifully with the neck. An alarm went off in a spare bedroom, startling him so much that he jumped, pulling back as if he had done something wrong. It was 7 am. The eyes of the figure next to him slowly fluttered open, hand moving from his waist to bury itself in his hair, fingers toying with the curls and nails scratching at his scalp.

“You ready to get up love?” 

“Can we stay here a bit longer?” His voice was pleading, almost sure you would say yes without him having to do much. Brahms rested his arm over your waist, letting his hand trace shapes into the small of your back.

“No Brahms, we have to follow the rules, remember? This’ll mess up your sleep schedule if we don’t get up sweetheart. And I have to turn off that alarm,” even though the voice was light, it still carried a sense of authority.

“Pleeeeeeeeease?” He pouted behind his mask, eyes shining brightly like a kid on Christmas day. He knows you can’t say no to him when he looks at you with those eyes.

“Hmm, maybe just once-” You had barely finished speaking before he buried his porcelain face into your chest, a happy hum spilling out of Brahms’s throat as he got comfortable in your arms again. The cold material made you gasp for a moment, but you couldn’t help but chuckle. Your bodies curled around each other, heavy sheets protecting you from the ever-present chill in the Heelshire mansion.

“I love you~” A kiss was pressed to your neck, gentle as the porcelain lips it came from before Brahms closed his eyes again, body relaxing in your hold while he cuddled closer to you, if such a thing were possible.

“I love you too~” The alarm would go off by itself in a few minutes. You have something more important to take care of right now.

Keep Quiet (NSFW)

(tags: dom!reader, bratty Brahms, sub!Brahms, praise, oral (reader receiving), slight ownership if you squint)

You had almost gotten through the day before Brahms had started to act up. Though, it wasn’t as if you could fully blame him this time. Malcolm had been late delivering the groceries, which meant that dinner was pushed back until he was able to get what you (well… Brahms) had asked for this week. You had tried offering him snacks, sweets, sandwiches, just anything that would hold him over until you could manage to make dinner. He refused everything, shoving it away from him like it was poisoned, arms crossed with a loud huff as he turned his head away from you. You sighed, leaving the room for a brief moment to collect yourself, but it was long enough for Brahms to wonder if you were going to come back. He knew you would. You always do… right?

“Are you going to sit here and pout all day now? You were being so good earlier,” your voice made him jump, unaware that you had walked through the other door of the dining room. For as long as he had lived in this house, he still hadn’t gotten used to the layout from outside the walls. Just as he was going to speak, the sound of the doorbell echoed down the long halls of the estate. You sighed in relief, going to retrieve the groceries with Brahms right on your heels before setting everything up in the kitchen. The smell of spices and the sound of meat sizzling along with a boiling pot of noodles quickly filled the space, while Brahms took his usual place on the counter. He was a great taste tester, and you thought the second you started cooking he would slip right back into his role. How wrong you were. Right now he was still in “brat mode” as you liked to call it, refusing to even look at you unless he wanted to get under your skin. If ignored, he would complain louder. If acknowledged, he would fuss. A few harsh glances in his direction would keep him quiet for a short while, but once he was done squirming he would start up again.

“How much longeeeer,” he whined, voice breaking from the high-pitched one from earlier into his more natural, no, more needy voice. Suddenly, you had an idea. It would keep him busy, and give you time to cook without being interrupted. You snapped your fingers, watching his eyes lock onto them for direction. Good. He was still obedient like this. You motion toward the tile in front of you, silently instructing him to take his place there. Brahms hesitated for a moment, but slipped off of the counter with a grace someone like him shouldn’t have. He took his place on his knees in front of you, hands resting on your thighs and eyes locked on you, barely wet with tears that threatened to spill behind his mask. Poor boy thought he was in trouble, and in a way, he was. You voice was smooth as you spoke, fingers curling around the edge of the porcelain mask, lifting it off of his face and onto the now empty counter. He whimpered, lip pushed out in a pout until your hand found its way into his curls.

“Keep your mouth busy while I cook, hm? Think you can do that pretty boy?” You toyed with his hair, making his breath hitch as he hummed and nodded, hands quickly working to get your pants off. This was the Brahms you knew, the one looking up at you with hazy eyes as he took you into his mouth, not wasting a second to send waves of pleasure through your body as he pressed his tongue to you. Your hips kept his head flush against the oven door, his hands gripping your thighs so tight you’re sure they’d be bruised. This would be a test for both of you. On his end, how long he could resist before begging you to abandon the food on the stove. To just grip his hair and use his mouth until you were satisfied. He would let you, of course. He was yours, after all. On your end, how long you could pretend he wasn’t there. Pretend that all of his desperate mewls weren’t distracting you from your task or the way his lips curled around you like you were carved from the same body. Ultimately, you knew you would relent first. Taking care of Brahms was always your first priority, so with a swift click of the burner turning off, you let yourself melt into him. He shifted under you, hips grinding against your shoe, desperate for any kind of release. Soon, you both reached your breaking point, his moans sending shocks through your body as you twitched into his mouth, and your grip on his hair sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head. When you finally let go, dropping to your knees to join him in the mess you had both made, pressing your foreheads together as your breaths mixed in the small space you had created.

“Was I good?” His voice was broken from use, eyes glazed over from the pleasure of serving you, arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders now as he steadied himself.

“Of course you were~” You pressed gentle kisses onto his face, tracing his jaw with your lips and his waist with your fingers while you both came down from your highs. Dinner would be saved for tomorrow. Or, at least until you both could stand.

[everlastingremorse-blog]

The Rat Grinders are Minmaxers

I’ve been thinking through a lot of the discourse surrounding the bad kids and their immediate dislike of the Rat Grinders, and how it’s not fair and all that stuff.

And that is important to consider, but it took me awhile to realize how un-fun it would be to play in a group of rat grinders.

Like Brennan said in an earlier adventuring party (and I am paraphrasing), “this year we get to see what it’s like when being an adventurer means going on adventures.”

Like, in earlier seasons, Aguefort would go on some long tangent about how adventuring is enacting violence in order to change the world.

Not that I completely agree with that assertion, but it’s also true that there is a narrative in DND, thus there are narrative arcs. Going on an adventure in DND means having personal arcs exploring how your character’s motivations are changing and interacting with the world. One of my favorite parts of Dungeons and Drag Queens was seeing these new players get really invested in their characters.

And then there are minmaxers. Now if you don’t know, Minmaxers are players that really optimize their character to game the system. Think Evan Kelmp. He’s set up in a way to prioritize fighting over anything else.

Now Kelmp is a bit of an exception, as most Minmaxers tend to (at least from what I’ve seen) avoid roleplay, while Brennan made Kelmp explicitly for roleplay. In other words, Minmaxers don’t make good stories.

And I think that’s for two reasons:

1. If all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. Having a character built to fight (and that’s how most Minmaxed DND characters are built, according to me) means you’re going to use fighting as a solution. Why try to convince someone when your dumb stat is charisma and you could probably kill them easily if you tried. Murder hobos are bad for stories.

2. It’s impressive, the first time. Don’t get me wrong, Minmaxers show a strong mastery of the system they’re working in. Just like the rat grinders. They’ve gotten to a real high level by (in my opinion) a flaw in the system, and it’s a fun loophole… the first time I saw it. If there is no story (no quest that you’re going on) then it’s going to just be boring grinding. It’s like looking at a painting in a museum. You can look at it. Examine it. Think about it like a painter, and then like an art critic. Read some analysis of the work, but eventually I want to move on. I might come back later, but I’ll hit a limit on what I can do. I can be impressed by the mastery of the system, now what? Now they go back to grinding rats.

And that’s why I dislike the rat grinders. They are adventures, but they don’t go on adventures. They just gamed the system. They followed the rules without following their spirit. And I’d hate to play a game with players like that.

But hey, things are looking up. Obviously, the rat grinders have a lot going on that we just don’t know yet. There is a story there, and I can’t wait to see it.

Also they have a really hot drago———

*sounds of muffled horny screams as I’m dragged off into the distance.*

[sports-on-sundays]

prince not so charming / CL16 / PART 1

Warnings : Mention of death, Mention of sex, Mention of marriage between a minor and an adult (spoken about as a bad thing, not a good thing), Mention of forced marriage, Switching between second and third perspective, Charles acting a bit spoiled maybe.

Summary : Prince!Charles x Princess!Reader - A prince has seven princesses brought to him, and must choose which one he wants to marry.

Author's Note : I've had ideas like this circulating through my head for quite a while, so I figured this would be something good to start my blog off with, especially since I think it's another idea that a lot of other people might enjoy reading. I'm just starting out my blog, so if you read this and you like it, I would really appreciate if you would hit my ask box and request something to support me and help me get going! And of course reblog and follow would be kind too <3 Thank you, and I hope you enjoy my little story.

Requested? : No.

There are six other princesses travelling by chariot today as well, also headed to the same exact castle you're heading to.

When your father, the king of your small island country, told you that the prince of one of the largest countries nearby was sending in for all the single princesses, both you and your father had a plan.

Unlike a lot of countries, yours is just fine with having a woman rule as queen, by herself, so since your mother passed away in childbirth, and you're your father's only child, you've both basically decided that getting married into some other kingdom's royal family is just about the last thing you want to do.

Apparently, this Prince Charles, who is twenty-five, your age, has been being pressured ever since he was eighteen by his family. The story is that they keep trying more and more ladies from all different countries and families, but every single one he sees he quickly dismisses after meeting them, rejecting every single one.

Which, you figure, means he's a spoiled little ungrateful brat, like many of the royals from surrounding kingdoms and countries. Not surprising.

For seven years, his mother and eldest brother have been searching all over for the woman he'll finally accept. Of course, searching only in royal and noble blood.

So now, they're bringing in seven more princesses to see if he'll accept any of them. You're generally not worried about this conceited prince wanting to marry you, but just in case, you and your father have ensured that there's no chance he will.

So you sit in the covered royal chariot, wearing a plain white dress, a men's cloak, your hair very simply down over your shoulders, and dirt smudged on your clothes and face.

Even though it's not your most favourite outfit, it's worth it to avoid at all costs being forced to court with... someone like Prince Charles.

You're sure he'll be disgusted.

Which is good.

You've met all the princesses that will be arriving as well, and you're sure most of them will be more interesting to a prince such as Charles. Apparently, to them, he's known as the most handsome prince around. All of them would be delighted to marry him, and are surely putting forth their best for the prince.

You're sure he just uses his good looks to fake a charming personality, so people like him. That's what all the princes do, but then when you really get to know them, it turns out their personality is really quite devilish in the end, and it was just an act, a show, to get you interested in them.

Soon enough, the chariot you're in stops, and your driver gets out, holding the curtain for you as you lift your skirt to jump out. The driver offers his hand to you for help, but like always, you ignore it and hop out yourself. It's not like when women jump we break our ankles or something. My goodness. You know deep down inside they're just trying to be honorable and kind, but still.

You look up at the castle. It looks very basic, like many other castles you've seen, with it's tall pillars, carved images, and glorious towers reaching up, slicing into the bright merry blue sky.

"Would you like me to walk up with you, or send a servant to go with you, up to the door, Your Highness?" asks your driver with a very low bow.

"No thank you, but I appreciate the offer. I can handle walking by myself. Just carry on."

"Yes, of course, Your Highness," he nods, briskly, with agility, hopping up into the chariot.

You turn away from that, and start walking down the cobblestone path that leads to the third courtyard, which leads to the main gates. When you get to the gates of the third courtyard, a guard grunts at you, not even realizing that you're one of the princesses, because of your means of arrival and presentation, "What's your business here?"

"I'm one of the princesses to meet Prince Charles today," you say simply.

He narrows his eyes. "No, you're no-"

"Listen, guard. This was a message sent only to the princesses, no? How could anyone else know about this? If you do not allow me to enter and go to the castle with all the other princesses here today, I will order my men to go against you in an instant!"

The guard's back straightens. "Right, then, Your Highness! Please, show mercy, and forgive me for my misunderstanding! I'll lead you to where you need to go immediately!"

"You're forgiven. Now, yes, take me there. And let's get this over with."

Charles reclines in his velvet red couch, leaning back as he stares up at the sparkling gold chandelier with a heavy sigh. There's a knock on the door to his room, and he calls, "Who's there?"

His older brother, Lorenzo, enters the room, shutting the door behind him. "Charles, come on now. I thought you were supposed to be getting ready." He ruffles his brother's light, fluffy, tangled hair. "My goodness, Charles, you need to get this cut and washed before you meet the princesses. And clearly you are in need of a shave."

"I don't have to have nice hair or clothes for every last one of those ladies to fall deeply in love with me. In fact, half of them probably are already deeply in love with me," replies the younger with an eye roll and a scoff.

"Charles, you know you have to look more presentable. Stop with all the excuses. Get up now."

"Is Mama gonna cut my hair?"

"Charles, you're just going to have to get it done by a servant. I'm sending one in to get you fixed up now, okay?"

Charles nods, sitting up more with a sigh. "Yes, yes, Lorenzo. Now be on with your day, now, won't you, King?"

"Charles," he says, looking back from the doorway with a sigh. "Do one thing for me, please?"

"Another thing?"

His brother, the king, ignores Charles' little comment and just says, "Please choose your princess today, Charles. Please. Choose the best one for you. I've been trying to give you responsibilities for so long. I think having a lady may help with your..."

"My what? My goodness, Lorenzo, be out of my presence already! Please!"

And with a sigh, the elder brother listens to the younger's order and leaves him to be by himself.

Charles gets up and walks across the room, stopping in front of his mirror to look at himself. His hair is a little tangled, but he doesn't mind it. He always thinks it makes him look better. It reminds him of how he looks after he's won a race, pushed his horses to the limit, with the wind and dust blowing dirt up into his helmet. He's never minded a little bit of danger, and a little bit of dirt. And a little bit of fun.

Yet a part of him loves to look nice, too, for these girls. Not because he's trying to attract any of them.

Maybe just because he feels so strong in those buttoned coats with gold lining, big, black boots, with a beautiful sword at his side.

Maybe all this talk of marriage and pressure to fall in love is a pain, but by now, would he want it any other way?

It's strange the way you get used to the things you hate, so much that you almost start to like them.

The six other princesses sit as far away from you as they can. Naturally, they're disgusted. Not that you care. You figure it's better like that. This way, maybe their sweet perfume won't make you smell any better.

Even the guards in the room seem extremely confused and unimpressed by you.

Which is just fine. It means that hopefully the prince will feel just the same.

Soon, a servant comes in, saying quickly, "I'm sorry for the wait, Most High Ladies of the Land. Our highly respected and honored Prince Charles, the second heir to the throne, after King Lorenzo, may he be honored forever, is still preparing himself to meet you beautiful ladies. I can assure you all that he is very excited to meet you all. Forgive us for the wait."

Of course he's taking long. He's probably quite vain. Just like these girls surrounding you. Quite vain, you know. You can't help but smile to yourself as you ponder upon the fact that perhaps this vain, conceited, self-centred prince could potentially get along quite well with these girls. Prideful people often seem to enjoy the people who are much like themselves, after all, right?

Soon enough, though, they start taking the princesses, one by one, to come and meet the prince. The princesses here are from ages anywhere between fifteen and twenty-five. You realize that the younger one's time meeting Prince Charles is much shorter than the older ones, and even then, the longest time before the servant comes to fetch the next princess is at most fifteen minutes.

Of course, they save you for last. Which you're happy about. After seeing all those beautiful princesses, you're sure Prince Charles will be even more disgusted with you than he would've been originally.

You stand up when the servant gestures you to come, and you walk next to him down the hallway. When you make it to the end of the hallway, there is a small passage with stairs leading up. "I am sorry to tell you that Prince Charles' room is on higher floor. Would you like me to carry you up the stairs, Your Highness?" The servant asks with a bow.

"My goodness! How do you treat your women in his kingdom? What a meeting this shall be with the prince! By the name of God, servant man, no. I can walk up a flight of stairs just fine on my own two feet."

"Of course, Your Highness!" the servant says quickly, and you start walking up the spiraling staircase. You don't doubt that all the other princesses accepted the offer to be carried.

The hallway at the top is much nicer than the one you were just in. It has red carpets, gold lining, and windows all across one wall. You pause to stare out them. They overlook the huge capital city, and you think about all the little common people down there, working for their lives.

It's such a sad concept. While you're up here, worried about having to meet a prince, there are people down there worrying about staying alive.

It's not right. And when you're queen of your island, that's what you want to fix. In your country, your father has it all set up for you.

You want the people to be happy and content.

"Your Highness?" the servant says. "This is Prince Charles' room."

You nod. "Thank you."

"I'll be waiting outside here if either of you need anything."

You nod again, and slowly turn the knob to the door, before stepping in, closing the door behind you gently with a quiet click.

You have never been in the bedroom of a prince before.

There's a huge window overlooking a beautiful bright bluebody of water, which you assume must be the ocean. On the wall is a breastplate and two swords. There's a large wooden wardrobe with beautiful carvings all over it, and sitting on top of it are two helmets- one look's like a knight's helmet, shining with steel, and the other a horse racing helmet with red streaks painted on the sides. Next to the wardrobe is a painting hanging on the wall of a young man with dark shaggy black hair and a playful smile, wearing the elaborate outfit of a king, despite not having the looks of a typical solemn painting of a king. There's a wall with lines of different kinds of plaques and trophies on shelves, glass doors covering them. Prince Charles has a huge grand, wooden but painted white, piano. His huge bed has curtains surrounding it, and next to the bed is a little nightstand. There's a huge desk with parchment and ink sitting on it, and there's a soft red rug over the floor. Hanging on the wall is a large, beautiful, tinted, full body mirror. There is a large empty fireplace, and with it a red velvet couch and matching chair. Next to these pieces of furniture is a table on which a map, a compass, and a bowl of fruit sits. The whole room smells like sweet, calming incense.

And then, after viewing the room, you turn to view the much less interesting prince. He looks like every other. Sure, his face is exceptionally handsome compared to the others, but who cares? He's not that glorious. He wears a tall black shiny boots, red pants, and a long white double-breasted jacket unbuttoned with gold buttons and gold furnishing. Underneath his coat he wears a soft looking poet shirt. The whole outfit fits him quite well, and compliments his thin, lean, but very strong figure nicely.

But the best of his outfit is the sparkling gold crown upon his head. It shines with all different kinds of lovely colorful sparkling jewels. You can't help but think about how heavy that must be on his head.

His brown hair is nicely styled, his eyes bright, and his white smile likely fake.

But the smile quickly vanishes as he can't help but express the surprise on his face when he sees you. "H- Hello," he says. "You are...?"

"Princess Y/n. It's nice to meet you, Prince Charles." You curtsy.

"Nice to meet you, too, Princess," he says with a quick bow, obviously trying not to express his emotions on his face. It's hard not to laugh at this. At this little rich prince trying to hold it together. He takes a step closer to you. "How old are you?" is his first question. He speaks with the accent that it seems many people from this country speak with. You can't help but wonder to yourself if this country has it's own native language.

"Twenty-five, Prince."

He nods. "Me as well. What kingdom are you from?"

You tell him about the island kingdom you come from, and, as expected, he doesn't end up having ever really heard of it much. "How far off the coast are you?" he asks.

"It took half a day to sail here."

He nods once again. "Alright... Uh, why don't you sit down here next to me," he starts, walking to the velvet couch, "and I can tell you a bit about myself, if that's okay with you."

"Of course, Prince. Go on," you answer as you sit down next to each other on the couch. You look over his nice appearance once again.

"I'm the second son of my father, may he rest in peace. My elder brother is king of this country, and my younger one, Prince Arthur, rules nearby conquered land. Me and my wife would be the rulers of a section of land that we have just won over in war, across the river."

"So you're telling me that regardless of being older than your brother, he rules more than you and has a wife, while you don't?" You really couldn't care less. You're just trying to make him dislike you.

He clenches his jaw and says, "It's just taken a little longer for me... I guess."

"Why do you think that could be?"

"I... well, Princess, so far in my life, I've chased after things besides ruling and marriage."

"Right," you say simply.

"So... tell me about yourself. What... makes you... you?"

You can't help but softly chuckle at that question, as the Prince's eyes look you up and down. "Well, isn't this meeting really only about two things?"

"Two things? I'm sorry?" he asks in confusion.

"Whether the princess' beauty suits your tastes, and whether she'll be good to make you your babies."

He stares, wide eyed. "Wow... egh, you're honest, now, aren't you?"

"I suppose I am," you respond with a shrug.

"Right..." is all Charles says, at a loss for words at the princess' way of speaking. This is the first princess that's been so... blunt with him.

And he realizes perhaps this is why he has been avoiding marriage for so long.

He'd rather not getting married to a woman for her intense beauty, and only use her for sex to have his children. He doesn't even want children. Or a wife.

He really just wants to be for himself. Adventure. Have fun. Make the most of life.

"So, Prince Charles, you said you've been chasing after other things besides marriage and ruling? I'm curious to know what."

He swallows. "Really, my lady, it should not matter. I'm really leaving that old life in the past." Or at least trying. Really, every part of Charles hates to think about leaving that life in the past. It's a life he loves.

But, as everyone seems to say to him, Charles, you're not a little boy anymore. You're a grown man at twenty-five, and it's pathetic how little you've got done in life.

To them, what Charles has done is pathetic. To Charles, what he's got done is success.

"I still want to hear, Prince Charles."

Charles sighs. He figures it doesn't matter if this girl knows or not. He's sure no one would want him picking her, anyway. So who cares if she has a strange view of him? "I love chariot racing. It's my passion. I love it so, so much. See those trophies in that case? Those are from racing. I love the adrenaline, and the danger. I love the speed. That's one thing. I also love music. I play on that piano all the time. I'm not interested in getting married... I mean, I guess I can be kind of romantic, but I don't want to get married for the reasons everyone says I should. They always bring me these women that all seem to act exactly the same, with the same clothes, same personality... And then they get annoyed at me for loving none of them. They try to put me in armor and get me to fight if I'm not going to marry, but that's never turned out either. Even though I have the strength for it, I don't want to do it. I don't want to go out on battlefields and shed the blood of other men. Maybe that makes me a coward, I don't know. Maybe it makes me 'not a man'. I don't know. But I can't help it. It's just the way I am."

The look on this princess' face seem to be a mixture of extreme curiosity, regret, worry, and empathy. Which is confusing.

"Prince Charles, I'm sorry. You're very unlike many princes I've met. But I think you're just fine."

"I'd say you're quite unlike all the princesses I've met. And I think you're fine, too. The bothersome thing is that I basically have to choose one of you seven today. By the way, Princess, usually I wouldn't be saying this. But I just can see that you aren't like the rest. I can tell I can trust you."

"Why do you have to choose one of us now?" the girl questions.

Charles sighs, glancing down at this rug. "I don't want to make this seem like this is any of my family's doing. They love me, and want the best for me. But I have advisors put in place, that in a way have authority over me, and have told me if I don't choose a princess today, then they'll choose. And I know who they'll choose. There's a princess in a very, very large kingdom very nearby, and they've been waiting until she turns fifteen. She's fifteen now, and I'm sure they'll force me to marry her, because having a marriage with a kingdom as big as that is just wise, when it comes to government. But I am not marrying mere girl who is ten years younger than me. There is no way."

She nods. "That's... That's good. Very wise. There are lots of princes I know of that would do just that. So I respect your decision in that very much. But I suppose the best thing for you to do is to just choose the nicest out of those girls to marry. It's a hard situation to be in, though. I'm sorry for you."

"Are you really a princess?" Charles asks, looking the woman in her eyes.

"Yes, I am."

Charles reaches over and wipes a smudge of dirt off her cheek with his thumb, before holding it up in front of her. "What is this all about then?"

"I didn't want to doll myself up. Just like you, I don't want to marry, really. I'm into other things that are uncommon as well."

"Like what, Princess?"

"Well, racing as well. I like hunting with my bow and arrow. I love swimming, and going for walks, and gardening. Most people think princesses always enjoy indoors more, but I love the outdoors. And luckily, in my kingdom, I'm allowed to spend my time outside. I don't like singing or dancing or reading or knitting or doing makeup or dresses or anything, like most people expect princesses to."

Prince Charles suddenly takes your hand and says intensely, "I have an idea."

You narrow your eyes at him, feeling suspicion sink deeper within you. "What...?"

"If neither of us want to marry, then if we married each other, then we could get along more. Like, I'm not saying we fall in love. I'm just saying if neither of us are willing to fall in love, then we marry each other."

"I see your point, Prince Charles," you start, "but it's quite selfish, what you're planning. While you're being forced to marry, I'm not. So while for you it would be a step up, for me it would be a step down."

He continues to hold your hand, though. "I would let you live in your country and rule it as you please. Please, Princess Y/n. It would be... such a favor for me. Seriously, the only time you'd have to see me is when we're invited to dinners and what not."

"Oh, yes, the only time I'd have to see you is for dinners, and as well, perhaps, to come to bed with you to give birth to your heirs! Prince, I do not-"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"What? It's rude to interrupt."

"I've stopped trying not to be rude by now! Just let me ask my question!"

"Go on, Prince Charles."

He sighs, giving your hand a little squeeze. "Do you realise that if you want to protect your own kingdom, and keep it as it is as well, that you're going to need an heir?"

You swallow.

What a terrible, awful turn this has taken.

You should've just dressed and acted like all the other princesses.

But you had no idea that Prince Charles would be so...

Such a square peg in a round hole.

Much like you are.

This time you squeeze his hand, which is very, very smooth, and would feel nice, if it weren't so sweaty at this very moment.

He barely whispers, "Please."

He's so desperate.

What will your father say?

You suppose you'd just have to explain the whole thing to him.

"Listen, Prince Charles," you say, slipping your hand out of his, standing up. "I do not want to marry you. I ask you not to marry me. But I understand your point of view, and I understand that I should expect that regardless of what I've said, you still might choose to marry me."

He stands up with you. After getting to know him more, he looks much more handsome than he did in the beginning.

And then he says something shocking. "I think you're beautiful."

You stare, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, what?"

He reaches over and wipes the other smudge of dirt from your face. "I think you're beautiful."

"How? I went out of my way to look ugly."

"It's your personality that shines through those lovely eyes of yours."

"Wow... Thank you, Prince... You weren't lying when you said you were... romantic. Although you know if this is some way to manipulate me into wanting to marry you, I'm sorry. I've got my mind set on no."

He shakes his head. "That's not what I was trying to do. I was just telling you that... Showing you that... No matter what you do to your appearance, I still thought you're beautiful."

You stare into those bright green eyes, and for a moment, there's a little pit in your stomach. But not a bad one. Like there's something flying up within you. You take a step closer to him, and say, "Prince Charles, you are a very special person. You really are. To see past all the makeup and dresses and perfumes, and look for the one with the personality you like the most? That's extraordinary."

He gently puts his smooth hand to your cheek and says, "You've got to be special as well. After all these years of seeing all these ladies and princesses that I could choose to marry, and you're the first one I have any kind of feelings for. Your humility is so admirable... You just want to be there for your country. You're amazing."

You swallow, nodding. "I don't want to marry, but out of all the princes I've met, you're the only one I would marry if I had to."

"You're the... You're the princess I would marry, and I have to."

You sigh. "I beg you not to say me, but I understand, fairly enough, you're looking at your own best interest. So if you... If you end up having to say me, please let me be there for your country."

"I'll say you, but I'm putting a lot on the line."

"Like what?"

"If my advisors don't like you, which is likely, they'll make me marry the fifteen year old, likely. But it's worth it. I think putting so much on the line is worth it to be with a lady like you. Because I know I won't meet another princess like you. They likely won't even let me, though, so you're probably safe."

And suddenly, your heart softens as you look at his longing eyes, and you say gently, "Prince Charles, say you'll sleep on your decision. They'll have us princesses stay at this castle for the night. In the morning, I'll make sure I look just like the others."

"Cover up your beautiful face with all that makeup?"

"Just so your advisors accept me."

He stares, wide eyed, before suddenly hugging you.

"Oh my goodness," you breathe.

"Don't tell anyone I've hugged you."

Hugging is reserved for, in tradition, only those who are courting or related to each other, so this in a way fills you with guilt, because you know how much people would look down on you if they knew he was hugging you so tight.

You smile to yourself, though, and hug him back, even tighter.

Who cares if they look down on you?

Prince Charles steps away out of the hug, before bowing to you, taking your hand, and kissing it, before saying, "I suppose you should leave now, Princess Y/n. I'll see you later."

[hathay]

second year halloween hc’s pt2.

(i now realize in the splitting of the second years i left riddle by his lonesome with octavinelle, so to him i formally apologize.)

warnings: horror movies are mentioned, ghosts too. also i daurnt proof read😍 (may ooc riddle? i tried on him i am sorry if it sucks</3)

included: floyd, jade, riddle, & azul!

⥳floyd⥴

- he just really, really enjoys spooking people.

- like, a chance to dress up all scary?? to see the lovely faces of people lighting up with utter fear? SIGN HIM UP.

- he’s trying to scare anyone and everyone, let’s not mention how he gets all moody when someone isn’t scared by him and just giggling at his antics instead.

- he hates decorating for halloween it’s way too much effort but lemme tell you, pumpkin carving or horror movie watching? he’s all for it.

- makes the worst jack-o-lantern you’ve ever seen. like seriously what is that? he would quite literally just smile and be like “i love it😄”. he’d give it a name and all.

- he adores horror movies on halloween because he likes giggling when people are super scared, likes to teasing people about it too. (the type to scream in the middle of an intensely quiet scene.)

- steals candy. steals so much candy. actually, forget stealing, he just scares people into handing over candy to him and has NO remorse for it, they should’ve just been tougher, barely even put up a fight!

- he might even consider changing costumes halfway through the night so he can re-scare people or keep himself from getting bored.

⥴jade⥳

- he loves halloween are you kidding me.

- he loves costumes he seriously does, dressing up is just so exciting for him. he likes to look mysterious and all fancy.

- we all know halloween in the sea is much different so he’s still learning more about land halloween and boy is he INTERESTED. especially learning about all the cultures traditions, he’s captivated!

- also quite enjoys scaring people, he’ll wear a scary costume but go around acting like a living angels all night until he gets to chance to absolutely horrify people. then just does his lil soft smirk and struts away (he totally struts.)

- he also loves telling scary stories in the calmest most monotone voice while describing the most traumatizing scary thing ever. (it’s more chilling this way i’m telling you.)

- he would scare people in the most methodical way physically possible and he would act so shocked and innocent as his plan unraveled.

- the opposite of floyd in the pumpkin carving area, his pumpkin would be so gorgeous. like how did this man manage to make an art piece out of a PUMPKIN??

- he’s not a big candy fan tbh, man is floyd or someone else gonna luck out if he decides he’s feeling sweet enough to hand it all over.

♔riddle♔

- i beg of someone show him he can actually time to relax and enjoy himself on halloween.

- if he were to be somehow persuaded to go trick-or-treating i do think he would rather enjoy himself. to give himself a chance to be a bit of a kid, to let loose yk. it would be fun for him to experience something exciting that he hasn’t before.

- doesn’t want candy, he doesn’t like junk food, but mayhaps if he likes someone enough he wouldn’t be opposed to getting candy and giving it all to said person. as long as the queens rules permit it though.

- declines to watch horror movies. he won’t do it, maybe something tamer like halloween town? even then he’s judging EVERYONE in it.

- his costumes are well thought out, they are absolutely not something stupid or spur of the moment like certain people. (*cough cough ace*)

- BUT he lowkey likes being a little scary on halloween, it’s the intimidation factor that he enjoys.

- he won’t carve pumpkins either, way too messy for his tastes, maybe if the queen allows it, he’ll partake in painting or drawing on the front of pumpkins!

✯azul✯

- he’s so excited. so excited. sure sure he may seem like he’s only in it for a profit (he’s THRILLED about said profit don’t get me wrong) but he loves halloween itself too.

- he does enjoy halloween profit but he also just enjoys halloween decorates, he likes all the cute halloween stuff and how he can make it all however he pleases. like little sugar cubes shaped like pumpkins or ghosts? he’ll never tell but he thinks they’re so cute.

- idc what he says he’s afraid of ghosts. like how ghosts are quite prevalent in the coral sea, as a kid he would hide under his covers and sob because he was fearful of them. (it happened i was totally there)

- he would watch halloween movies but would act so hard to seem uninterested or that in that situation he’d be a-okay.

- he convinces people he only likes to capitalize off halloween but he lowkey loves matching costumes and thinks they’re cute. if someone he likes asked him to match i stg he’d be unable to speak. (he turns into mush fr)

- i think he would really enjoy dressing up, he’s an extravagant man yk! if he gets to wear something that makes him feel on top of the world he’s gonna do it.

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Hi if it's okay to request childhood bestfriend into lovers to riddle? i just really like to imagine it hehe sorry for bad english...

Riddle Rosehearts:

You had been there since the beginning. Your influence was certainly one Riddle’s mom scorned, even moreso than Trey who fed her son delicious but sugary baked treats. You inspired something else in Riddle, a little more rebellion, though your influence was clearly squashed by the time you reached your NRC years. You stayed friends, however, with Riddle trying to bring a little more structure to your daily life while you tried to bring more fun into his.

You were as surprised as anyone else seeing him Overblot, scared but heartbroken for him. Seeing the clear pain that he was in afterward also didn’t sit right with you; Trey had to stop you from making the rash decision of throwing hands with a grown woman over the treatment of her son but saying it wouldn’t make matters with Riddle much better. You felt protective over him suddenly, even though it might not be your place to say something on his behalf.

Romantic love isn’t really something you speak about, or even realize you feel, until your 3rd year. It’s not like the feelings hadn’t been there all along but you had felt quite comfortable in your relationship with him, to the point that any potential changes to your dynamic set off some alarm bells in your head. It made you a little nervous to start seeing Riddle in a different light, and there were some sleepless nights where you questioned how he saw you. You had noticed he avoided your touch now, that any casual hugs you initiated were rebuffed, but the meaning behind them could be anything. You respected his space and then there were no other complaints.

Riddle has to be the one to make the first move. Trey had told him as such, quite directly, as Riddle himself had rebuffed most of your advances. Not conscious ones, of course, but when you had asked to be his partner at an upcoming event he had turned you down due to his own ‘busy schedule’ and also because he thought you should go with someone you actually wanted to date. Trey’s implication that you had asked him with purpose left Riddle flustered and looking back on all your past interactions, wondering if you had been trying to send him subtle signs that he hadn’t acknowledged and now…

It’s closer to the end of your 3rd year that you and Riddle finally have a serious talk about your relationship. You were discussing your futures with sparkling eyes, the smile on your face not wavering even as you came to terms with the reality you might be parting for good; you had always wanted success for him and knowing he was going to stay out of his house, that he would be traveling to expand his knowledge, brought you great joy. Friends from a distance was obviously manageable, but your feelings for him had only grown over the months, especially when you tried to ignore them. You couldn’t imagine not seeing him every day, not talking to him every day, not helping him study or hearing about some Queen of Hearts rule you’d never heard of in your life.

If Riddle wasn’t such a serious person you would wonder if you were just being punked with his confession, but there are other feelings coursing through you. Your heart felt like it might explode if you looked at him too long, the blush that matched the shade of his hair perfectly taking over his face. You don’t think you’re doing much better but it’s at least mutual embarrassment, your hand reaching out for his as you silently lace your fingers with his, feeling his tight squeeze of approval in return. Now, the two of you could plan for a bright future spent together, closer than ever.  

[bunni-v1]

Request: Rook Hunt drabble for a royalty AU

Twisted Wonderland Royal AU: Pomefiore

TW: Use of “princess” but that’s it

Info: Rook x Reader; Vil x Reader (familial); Epel x Reader (platonic); GN!Reader

🍓Teehee, I love royalty AUs. Unfortunately, I got a little out of hand on the “Drabble” part, so this is just an introduction to everyone in a soon-to-be-long fic I’ll be posting in the coming week. These are VERY brief, as the actual fic is about sixteen pages. I do hope it’s worth the wait! I hope you’ll understand! If you’d like, I can tag you in it!

Tags: 

Kingdom Lore

-Your Kingdom is part of a “United Front” with several other kingdoms across all of twisted wonderland.

-The castle is located in the Shaftlands, making it one of the most influential and bustling areas in the entire world.

-You and your people are focused on the creation of silks and fabrics and clothes — which you have quite a chokehold on the industry.

-You also have quite a large hunting industry, due to your location next to multiple large and vast forests.

-Your kingdom is the (newly) second strongest within the United front, thanks to the recent addition of of The Valley of Thorns

-It’s original rulers (your parents) died in a tragic accident, leaving only you and your brother behind to rule your kingdom.

-Magic is not common in the Shaftlands, usually only left for the great scholars to study and hone. 

-In fact, because of the way the late king and queen died, magic use is frowned upon.

-The kingdom has fairy tales of large inky monsters that live within the forest, but those are just fairy tales… right?

You (Oh my goodness!!!)

-You are the princess (by title, you use they/them pronouns) of the Shaftlands.

-While the people believe you rule side by side with your brother, you really are only there to sit still and look pretty.

-You ARE well educated and very smart. You understand deep political issues and have bold opinions which Vil (your brother) does take into account.

-You are better described as a socialite, collecting information about every single person you brush elbows with.

-This includes your citizens, whom you love and adore and they love and adore you.

-Since you have no political hold over people, you learn everything there is to learn about them and use that as leverage against them if you need — alternatively, with your citizens, you use it to try and help better their lives.

-You are good at being royalty, and are loyal to your kingdom and the crown, but you don’t like it.

-You especially hate the looking good aspect of being royal.

-Parties are the worst punishment you can go through.

-You value your freedom and ability to do as you like, but you are understanding as it becomes limited the older and older you get.

-You would rather marry for true love rather than for political connections.

-You ARE a princess after all, you love the stories of a dashing rouge sweeping you off your feet.

-All of this being said, your absolute favorite thing in the world is hunting.

-Your mother was an esteemed hunter before she took on the crown, and therefore she taught you everything you know.

-You are no longer allowed to hunt, thanks to your brother being too worried something may happen to you, but you miss it.

-You DO have a good relationship with Vil, but it’s become more and more strained as years went on and he became more and more restrictive of what you can and can’t do.

-Epel is your best friend in the castle, and was your hunting partner until you were banned.

-He remains loyal to you over Vil, and will always have your back if you need it.

Vil

-Your older brother, and the Queen of the Shaftlands.

-Vil took on the crown at only fifteen, and he has ruled gracefully and powerfully ever since.

-He is, by far, the most influential ruler among the seven separate kingdoms.

-He is the main reason that the unification front has lasted so long and The Valley of Thorns joined later after.

-He singlehandedly led the kingdom into economic prosperity, and remains the reason as to its huge success.

-He banned the average man from hunting, instead requiring a hunting license so that they could limit the loss of human life in the forest.

-He, himself, finds hunting boorish and dangerous, which was his main reason for banning you from doing so.

-He adores you with his whole heart and soul, and every single thing he does is for the betterment of the kingdom and the safety of you.

-He’s got thousands of responsibilities which has limited the time he’s able to spend with you, but he does try to make time at least once a week to sit with you.

-He is one of the only people who knows exactly what happened to his parents, and he also requires a license to study and practice magic in the Shaftlands.

-He studies magic, specifically potion magic, but only so he can better understand the benefits and dangers of it. 

-He does not permit you to study magic, because he is afraid something could happen to you much like it did to your parents.

-He seemingly works very closely with Idia Shroud and his family, but no one knows why — especially since Idia and Vil don’t get along well publicly.

-In fact, Vil does not get along well with most of the soon-to-be rulers of the neighboring kingdoms.

Epel

-Epel and his family was plucked off the streets by Vil himself when both you and Epel were very young.

-His family was given a position as the castle’s own farmers, his grandmother being the head of production.

-Epel, however, was assigned as your personal playmate and eventually a member of the lower court.

-He is your best friend and in turn you are his.

-Both of you hate the castle lifestyle, and run around causing chaos and having fun with one another.

-Frequently, you both find yourself in trouble, but you are able to dismiss Epel’s punishment by taking full blame and arguing for his forgiveness.

-Epel is quiet and soft-spoken around Vil, but when the two of you are alone he is outspoken and loud.

-He drops his fake fancy accent and talks in his regular southern drawl which you adore so much.

-He isn’t too important to the story overall, but he is your rock to lean back on when things get rough.

-He knows you better than your own brother knows you, and for that you think he is like family.

-His main responsibility is to look pretty and mingle, just like you.

-He is also, technically, your first guard in case anything goes wrong.

-He is, magically, incredibly talented with a gift that is unmatched by most in his court.

-Vil sponsors his lessons and study, but his is not permitted to use magic outside of his lessons.

-Epel believes that Vil has a bigger plan with his magical experiments, but he’s not sure what.

-It is also worth note that he is not supposed to mention his magical lessons to you either.

Rook

-Rook is a mysterious man. He is not one of the many citizens of the Shaftlands that you know and love dearly, nor is he an elite from another kingdom.

-You know virtually nothing about this man, therefore you are drawn to him in a way that you’d never felt before.

-He shows up suddenly at your birthday party, uninvited and unknown, and disappears as quickly as he came.

-What you don’t know is that he is - in fact - a very important figure among the only kingdom not within your unified front.

-Now, I don’t want to spoil anything for the story, but the two of you end up tangled in a sort of cat and mouse game that only one of you is aware that its happening.

-Now, general head cannons on him.

-Rook is a very well read, well spoken, well educated young man. 

-He is not from the Shaftlands, but he knows the ins and outs of every single system both inside and outside of the castle.

-To be truthful, he is aware of the inner workings of every single kingdom in the unified front. 

-He is also magically talented, and his favorite form to use would be his enchanted bow which he can use to apply any spell to his arrows as he draws them.

-Unlike you, who is extremely sheltered from the world, he knows perhaps TOO much.

-He is equally as captivated by you as you are with him, which leads him to make a… very interesting decision.

-He is, technically, a guard for hire. A very good one, at that. None of his clients have ever faced any harm with him around.

-Vil, being protective as he is, hires Rook to be your guard after a set of circumstances happen, and suddenly this mysterious man who you thought you’d never see again is a part of your everyday life.