#who still play and like to collect husbands i guess

[enden-k]

dunno why i got this gnshn tweet rec but this was quite "fun"

(this is from a reliable leaker who wanted to clarify things very clearly so ppl wont be baited by hyv anymore); i quit playing a while ago so i was never aware how they cut male characters like that but makes sense if u look at natlan cast ig??? also theres apparently no plan in making capitano, varka and pantalone playable so if i didnt quit already id done that now ngl AHAHAH

it was said a bit later too but i didnt capture that and i lost the tweet already but basically, hyv doesnt care abt the "female players" (leakers words, but obv it goes for all players who are interested in the male cast) and completely cater to the (roughly quoting and rephrasing from my head, not my words) incel fanbase that is left now since they willingly throw all their money at hyv to C6 R5 their waifu anw woweee

ppl who are interested in male cast will get some characters just for a tiny taste to keep them there but theres no limited characters and no male character will have an important role in any version anymore; leaker said u shouldnt fall for hyv empty baiting and leave if you feel like leaving bc thats basically it for gnshn

(tbh i dont mind if theres more ladies or not in a game, i rlly dont care abt such matters bc i just rlly like/focus on a characters design and personality and not their gender etc. what i cant stand is when female characters are clearly designed for the male gaze w extremely skimpy/sexy clothing or certain vibes/advances to the protag/player. either make it equal for male and female characters or leave that shit out of ur gameeee ughh)

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 16

Curly (Mouthwashing) + food play

Guess whos got Mouthwashing brainrot. This guy. I love me a psychological horror game that im too scared to play myself, so I watch manlybadasshero play it. I love curly, and I love angst and horror, so here we go.

tw for vague mentions of what happens in the game, and Curly losing his mind.

2024 kinktober masterlist

Sunlight passed in through the slim windows in your shared apartment, the radio playing some tune you didn’t know the name off. Most music nowadays was made by AI, generating what seemed to be popular at that very moment, so it was never worth learning the names, not when most were just a line of numbers and letters.

Your socked feet carry you silently across the carpet, a serving tray in your hands as you carefully push the door open. The apartment was ancient by todays standards, but it had windows that let you see the actual sun, and not just the artificial one they used so people wouldn’t go crazy. It did result in having doors you actually had to open, instead of sliding doors.

Seeing your husband laid out on the bed made it all worth it though, the sliver of sunlight brushing against his skin and making his blonde hair look like gold. Curly was going on another delivery in a weeks time and would be gone for about eight months to a year. It might have sounded extreme, but in this day and age it was normal, especially for you two, who were working class.

 Luckily you had a job that paid okay, but not enough to support you both, and your lover had such a draw to the stars. This also meant you two had been going at it like rabbits, to be able to sate yourselves until you met again.

The tray was placed on the bedside table, a sleepy smile pulling at Curly’s lips as you crawl up the bed, pressing soft kissing all the way up his spine. “Morning captain” you murmur against his neck, where you bury your face and inhale deeply, simply taking in the smell that was him.

His hand lazily reaches back and runs through your hair, a sleepy hum leaving his lips as Curly seems to melt further into the sheets, a long relaxed exhale leaving him. “mornin…” he mumbles, not even opening his eyes as he felt your chest press against his back.

Mornings like this with you were Curly’s favourite, where he just got to indulge himself in all that he loved. A small yelp did jump out of him as he felt something run down his back, your chuckle making him grumble and finally glance back at you, his blue eyes parted just enough to see you.

Curly huffed a little as he watched and felt you lick syrup up from the crevice of his spine, your tongue flicking out and lapping against every knob of his spine that you could feel. He sighed and arched his back a little as you got further down, flattening your tongue against the dimple of his back and giving a wet suck, slurping up the syrup that had collected there.

“Sweet, like you” you mumble against his skin, shooting him a cheesy wink as he grunts at your stupid joke. He was more than willing to lift his hips though, as you started working his boxers down, Curly twitching again as you tilted more of the syrup against his skin.

Had he not been so sleepy and hot inside already, he might have complained as he felt the thick syrup run down between his cheeks, against his fluttering hole, which still felt sensitive from the multiple rounds you’d had the day before.

Your tongue licking against it was like a Band-Aid, but also kindling upon the fire in his gut. Curly shuddered and hummed softly into the pillow, hips lazily rocking back against your tongue as you licking and tasted all he had to offer.

Curly could feel you pouring more of the syrup on him, and part of his brain wondered if you had bought it, just to use it for this. Sugary items weren’t the cheapest, so it did fluster him a little more, knowing you most likely had saved up just to lick it off him. It made the familiar pulsing hardness between his legs dribble against the sheets, his hips rocking more intently against the bed.

“My pretty captain” you coo against his hole, only to follow it up with another wet suckle and slurp. One of your hands rubbed at his thigh, as the other pulled one of his cheeks, opening him up more for your hungry tongue and mouth.

You both knew you could have just pressed inside him, seeing as he was most definitely still loose from the day before. But the act of getting to lick him out and taste him like this was part of the fun, to feel Curly rut against the bed, but also back against your face, the taste of your spend from the day before, of Curly, and of the sweet syrup, flooded your senses.

It wasn’t the real syrup, the stuff they got from trees. Someone on your salary could never dream of even tasting the stuff, but it was a replacement version. It tasted a bit fake, but it was better than the cheap stuff. Add that to the taste of your lovers hole and his desperate panting, then it became a five star meal.

Curly let out a shaky keened noise as you finally pulled back, the blonde glancing over his shoulder again to watch as you slowly crawled back up again, pressing your chest against his back once more. “I love you” you mumble against his neck, grabbing yourself at the base to push inside him, Curly opening up with ease from all your prep.

“I love… you too” he gasped out, having to catch his breath as he felt your tip press expertly against his prostate. You had learned how to play him like a fiddle a while ago, back when you two were younger, and he was still studying to become a captain of a ship, and you had just started your career. You had both been so clumsy at the time, laughing and embarrassed, trying to figure it all out.

He let out a breathless giggle as you poured more lines of syrup against his back, licking it up from between his shoulders and up to his neck. “you’ll get it in my hair” he snickered, burying his face into the pillow once more as your hips worked together, his more desperate than yours.

“We can just take a bath” you reply, your voice rougher than before as you hold yourself up with your hands, moving your hips in rougher strokes, knowing that Curly liked it that way, to have his prostate struck over and over until he was wailing.

Neither of you really wanted to go far enough for Curly to start clawing at the bed, lost in tears of pleasure and fucked so good he couldn’t form a thought. At least, not now, not when he had just woken up, instead you stuck to suckling the sweet substance off his skin, the flavour mixing with the salty tang of his sweat.

Curly was the first to spill, his noises growing higher in pitch as his hips rocked in short quick strokes, downright humping the bed but also trying to jump back against you. Your captain got too desperate sometimes, no matter how many times you guys did this. He was normally too nice and too selfless, and times like this were the only time he allowed himself to be selfish.

His noises melted in a drawn out keen, which turned into a deeper guttural groan, his hips grinding hard against the sheets as he spurted all over it, your hips grinding against his from the back to push him further against it. “Good, so good. So good for me Curly” you pant, rutting against him a few more times before spilling inside him, adding to the mess that had mostly been licked up by yourself.

You both laid there, pressed against each other and panting, trying to catch your breaths and basking in the glow of being together. When he caught his breath, Curly lifted himself from the pillow, which now had some spit and tear stains as a result of his pleasure. His lips slotted against yourself, Curly smirking lazily at the sweet taste on your tongue. It tasted so good, even if he didn’t normally like the stuff, but on your tongue anything tasted divine.

…

A rattly exhale left his teeth, as there weren’t really any lips left to breathe through. Curly’s one eye was blurry as he stared up at the same ceiling he had been staring at for who knows how long. His mind had been slipping more and more lately. Every waking moment was pain, and whenever he slept, he dreamed of you.

Every now and then he swore he could taste syrup, even amongst the horrible taste of bile, blood, and the pain medication Jimmy force-fed him. Maybe the pain and isolation were finally catching up, his pained limbs thrashing weakly against the bed. Not because of pain, even if it was ever present. But because he longed for you. he longed for your eyes, your lips, your hands, your love. Anything to carry him through this… this guilt and pain.

Would you still want him, like this? You had always loved his hair, his eyes, you had always loved his handsome features. And what was he now, other than the sad pathetic remains of a man who deserved to die. But he couldn’t die, not yet, not when he had promised to return to you.

He could almost hear you. your loving voice which filled him with longing. Calling out for him, loving him, comforting him through the worst of his pains. Curly… my captain… Curly, Curly, Curly, C- “Curly?” a soft voice broke through the visions and illusions, at least most of them.

He couldn’t turn his head well, but Anyas face was familiar as it leant over him. She looked exhausted and like she had aged ten years from the stress of it all. She seemed relieved but also saddened to see him still alive, like part of her had hoped he would die peacefully in his sleep. “I don’t… I don’t think I can do this anymore, Curly. Its not your fault, but I can’t-“ she stuttered, voice shuddering and eyes glossy.

Hearing the rattle of the pill bottle in her hand made it all make sense. Poor Anya, another victim of Curly and his inability to do anything right. He wasn’t made at her, he hoped the few gurgles he could let out before the pain got too extreme expressed that. Her smile was so tired, one of her hands resting on his bandage covered bicep, before she slowly sank to the floor.

Curly could hear her breathing slowing down, even above his own raspy pained wheezing. If he blurred his vision enough, and let himself slide deeper into his mind, away from most of the pain, then he could hear your breathing too. He could feel it puffing against the back of his neck, your mouth pressing against his shoulder, up his neck to his chin, and against his lips.

The door opened with a whoosh, Curly only truly registering that time had passed from the look on Jimmys face, and how the room had started to smell more of death than before. Even as Jimmy lifted him, Curly still tasted sugar. He tasted you. he could almost see you leaning over the table, your loving smile on your face, even as more pain burned through his leg. Even as it all blurred more and more. Even as everything grew cold, and he heard Jimmy finally take responsibility, as you looked back at him through the glass.

He tasted syrup.

[hai7ani]

I'm dying to know will and how the loser virgin rindou x single mother will get together. Also will there be a drama with her ex-husband, like him seeing her one day and start rage shouting so Rindou comes to the rescue or something of that sort? Or is everything there settled?

I don't think it's fully settled. He was becoming abusive to her 一 too mean, too harsh, too demanding. There's still so much unresolved issues between the two that reader thought it was better to leave than to talk it out with him. He wouldn't listen anyway 一 he never listens. He's the kind of person who once flew an unopened beer bottle halfway across the room for something petty and she had to pick glass shards out of her son's knees and get him back into the shower for the third time that day because he got drenched in beer from head to toe 一 he hadn't seen him crouching in the corner five minutes ago hiding from his father's rage.

Have you ever met a baby who knew how to hide from a parent before knowing how to even properly write?

But the first time you learn that loser virgin!Rindou isn't exactly who you think he is, is when he throws the first punch at your ex for trying to hit you in public.

He cups the side of his jaw as he takes it in, chipped front tooth covered in thick, red blood and he tries to stand. His body is dumb and wobbly from the sudden impact to his head, but he still manages to get back on his feet somehow. He thinks that the punch had taken about three years off his lifetime.

He wonders just who this guy is.

"This bitch tried to run away with my son." He points at you, laughing in disbelief. "You think Tokyo is so damn huge, huh? You're in Shibuya of all places. Fucking cunt."

There's ringing in his ears, blood dripping down his nose. He still ignores it and tries moving towards your son in the Family Mart next door who is sitting together with Yuzuha eating vanilla ice cream. Such a poor boy 一 he has fat tears pooling in his eyes that look so much like yours. His father fucking hates it, but he still wants his kid back anyway.

"Fuck off." Rindou shoves a forceful hand into his chest that sends him stumbling back a little. "She's been running away from you, dickface. Leave before I call the cops." He's been trying to play nice this whole time 一 that punch was merely just a little treat.

He scoffs 一 airy and enlightened 一 and he peeks behind him to stare at you.

"So I guess this is what a whore looks like, yeah? One guy wasn't enough for you, just had to go seduce another one," he pauses to look at Rindou, taking him in, judging him from head to toe一

"He has money to pay for your shit?"

To pay for your kid's shit一

"A house for you to stay comfortably in?"

A madhouse to raise your fucking child in一

"That's the problem with you, sweetheart. You only want what you want. And now you've got a guy who looks like he wants to kill me for一"

You don't stop Rindou this time round either.

collection

[gauntletgirlie]

Get to know your Mutuals

Thanks for the tag @perlen-gold, even though I’m just an unhinged follower obsessed with your writing 🙈 I started my own chain so your original post wouldn’t get too long.

What's the origin of your blog's title? My thirst for Adar and the gauntlet kink he inspired.

Favorite Fandoms: I have a lot, but The Silmarillion/The Lord of the Rings/The Rings of Power are my main ones I always fall back on.

OTP(s) + shipname: I’m a self shipper so me + whomever I’m obsessed with (currently Melkor, Adar, and Gil-galad) but also more recently:

Melkor x Mairon (Angbang)

Adar x Celebrimbor (Silverscars)

Favorite color: Orange (also partial to purple and dark green).

Favorite game: Hero Quest (I’m not a console gamer. Though I did enjoy watching my husband play Horizon Zero Dawn).

Song stuck in your head: Dog Days (Are Over) by Florence and The Machine.

Weirdest habit/trait? Oh boy, where to begin… I make random noises, I meep like Beaker to songs, laugh at my own jokes… I’m just a weird person altogether folks.

Hobbies: Writing, visiting places of historical interest, I also used to be an avid reader but then motherhood robbed me of my energy and concentration. I listen to audiobooks more now.

If you work, what's your profession? I write scientific reports and run data tables for an Early Drug Development CRO, which is as fun as it sounds. I’m also a mother. Everything you’ve heard about motherhood is true and also a lie.

If you could have any job you wish what would it be? I would be rich enough not to need to work 🤷🏻‍♀️ or working on a petting farm would be cute.

Something you're good at: Berating myself. Encouraging others/being a cheerleader. Also writing, I hope 🙈

Something you're bad at: Most things, but especially anything requiring mathematics or physical exercise.

Something you excel at: Being a silly goose 😏thirsting over fictional characters 🙈 and raging at injustices. Erm, I think that’s about it. How tragic for me 😂

Something you love: The community I’ve found here on Tumblr 🫶🏼 period dramas, Dracula, and tattoos (I have none of my own… yet).

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Mormonism, The Wars of the Roses, the people I love.

Something you hate: Injustice, mayonnaise, and corsets improperly portrayed in period drama.

Something you collect: Cuddly toy bats, and more characters to thirst over (I need help).

Something you forget: That motherhood is difficult so to give myself more grace.

What's your love language? I don’t adhere to love languages, but I guess genuine connection over similar interests, banter/in-jokes.

Favorite movie/show: Aaahhh don’t make me choose! It’s always changing.

Favorite food: Galaxy Cookie Crumble, Mini Eggs, Yorkshire puddings, and pizza.

Favorite animal: Bats 🦇

Are you musical? I can hold a tune and I played flute as a kid, otherwise sadly no.

What were you like as a child? Intelligent, saw everything in black and white, more artistic, more outgoing.

Favorite subject at school? History and art.

Least favorite subject? Maths and PE.

What's your best character trait? I like to think I’m kind and understanding.

What's your worst character trait? I can be so incredibly lazy.

If you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? More sleep. Always more sleep.

If you could travel in time who would you like to meet? Bram Stoker. I’d also love to meet my mum as a young woman, I think we would have had fun.

Recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!):

Come by @perlen-gold (Angbang)

Of Convenience by @greenleaf4stuff (Silverscars)

Last but not least, show your favorite fanart of your favorite character(s) (please remember to credit/add links!):

Melkor/Morgoth

Adar

Gil-Galad (TROP)

No pressure tags for @greenleaf4stuff, @valar-did-me-wrong, @strifes13, @wowstrawberrycow, @iwanderbecauseimlost, @withallthatisleftofmyheart, @calmlyy-chaotiic, @margauxmara, @varda-starqueen, @saffronstories, @gingeragenda, @gracefallingart, @dwarveslikeshinythings, @whenimaunicorn, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 and anyone else who would like to play! Sorry if I missed anyone.

[bridgertonbabe]

I’m popping this here in case you get the urge

But the great Cluedo incident of ‘19…

I need to know what happened!!

BSSG Group Chat

Penelope: So other than all of that

Penelope: How did you enjoy your first game night @ Phillip @ Michael?

Michael:

Phillip: ⬆⬆⬆

Michael: To say I didn't enjoy a single second of last night would be an understatement

Simon: Yeah sounds about right.

Phillip: I can't lie.

Phillip: I did google how to go about getting a restraining order.

Penelope: Honestly Phil that's fair

Simon: I did the same thing after my first game night with them

Phillip: Did you actually go through with it?

Simon: I really was on the verge of it ngl

Simon: But alas, I knew it would be far more trouble than it's worth.

Simon: And besides I should have known what I was marrying into after my first game of pall mall 💀

Penelope: And look as much as we love you guys, if the events of last night were enough to scare you off we'd completely and whole-heartedly understand if you wanted to go NC with the rest of the fam.

Phillip: Just one question

Phillip: Is it just game nights and pall mall that sets them all off like that?

Michael: Yeah we really need to know now if they're triggered like that by anything else

Michael: Because if so...

Simon: It's only anything competitive that sets them all off in that way.

Simon: You have my word on that.

Penelope: ⬆⬆⬆

Penelope: Yes and they're particularly at their worst when they're playing as a family.

Penelope: They really know how to push each others buttons but none of them know when to draw the line

Michael: Yeah no shit

Michael: I managed to pick up on that last night when I was trying to put out an actual fucking fire

Simon: I do have to say that last night was an all time low

Simon: They really were all at their absolute worst

Simon: Even I didn't think they could collectively be that bad, especially after the Pictionary incident of '16

Phillip: I mean I guess it's somewhat of a relief to hear that last night wasn't just a bog standard Bridgerton game night

Phillip: Though from the way you guys are talking about it and now with the mentioned "Pictionary incident", it seems their game nights are always a cause for concern and never fun in general

Michael: Very that

Kate: What?!

Kate: What are you talking about?

Kate: Of course game nights are fun!

Penelope:

Simon: Kate

Simon: Are you actually insane

Kate: Just because last night got a little bit crazy doesn't mean game nights on the whole aren't fun!

Phillip: A little bit crazy????

Penelope: Kate multiple people had to go to hospital last night

Kate: Yeah and?

Kate: It's not like it's the first game night we've ended up in A&E

Michael:

Michael: What do you mean this isn't the first game night that you've ended up in A+E?????

Phillip: ⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆

Phillip: ???????????????

Penelope: Kate 2 casualties as a result of a Bridgerton game night is to be expected but 9 is still nine more than any of us would like

Michael: 2 casualties...

Michael: 2 CASUALTIES IS TO BE EXPECTED?!?!?!?

Phillip: I

Kate: Omg Pen it wasn't 9 casualties

Kate: The doctors were just covering their arses with keeping most of them in over night

Kate: They were fine

Simon: They had smoke inhalation Kate

Michael: Your husband had his eyebrows burnt off

Penelope: Which is what happens when you and Anthony throw a tandem strop and set the kitchen alight

Kate: Objection!

Kate:

Kate: If you want to point the finger at who caused the fire then look no further than your wife @ Simon

Simon: First of all I wasn't pointing fingers

Simon: And secondly I was too busy trying to stem Greg's bleeding to notice the fire happening or who caused

Kate: Deflect all you want but your wife was the firestarter 🔥🔥🔥

Kate: The number of casualties was only so high because of her

Penelope: God I just hope Sophie's ok

Michael: Yeah ngl she's the only one I'm concerned for

Kate: I'm sure she's perfectly fine

Kate: Seriously you guys need to chill

Kate: I don't know why you're all being so negative about last night

Phillip: HYACINTH BOUGHT A FUCKING SWITCHBLADE TO A GAME NIGHT

Michael:

Kate: Omg why are you so mad?

Kate: It's not like she attacked you

Phillip: Oh and I should be so fucking grateful should I???

Phillip: That after attacking 3 others Anthony wrestled it off of her before she could get to me????

Michael: Who tf even let her have a switchblade in the first place???

Penelope: I did tell Colin he'd live to regret getting it for her

Phillip: And he got it for her because?!?!

Penelope: It was the one thing she asked him for when he was in Japan and he thought she just wanted it for ornamental reasons even though I explicitly warned him that definitely wasn't the case

Sophie sent a photo

Sophie sent a photo

Penelope: Omg Sophie!!!!

Penelope: 😍

Sophie: Everyone, meet Alexander 💙

Simon: Oh thank god, congrats Soph! x

Michael: Aw made up for you Soph, he's a right lil beauty! 😘

Phillip: Congrats Sophie 🤗

Penelope: He's so beautiful 🥰 how did it go?

Sophie: As smoothly as it could be considering he's 3 weeks early

Michael: I have to say Ben's rocking that eye patch

Sophie: I mean it's not exactly the get up I expected our son to meet his dad wearing but c'est la vie

Simon: How's Charlie finding being a big brother?

Sophie: I think he's more delighted with his dad looking like a pirate than with his baby brother tbh

Sophie: He very excitedly went to his dress up box and put on his pirate costume so he could be just like his daddy and refused to take it off when we were taking photos of him with Alex.

Sophie sent a photo

Penelope: Oh bless him he looks pleased as punch

Sophie: He couldn't hand Alex back to me fast enough so he could have a sword fight with Ben and make him walk the plank

Phillip: Btw just wanted to say Sophie that I'm really sorry that El accused you of faking your water breaking just to get out of the game.

Penelope: I'm sorry on Colin's behalf too Soph

Sophie: It's ok guys, I appreciate it and besides you were the ones who called the ambulance for me.

Simon: Unlike someone.

Michael: @ Kate

Kate: Omg Alex is absolutely gorgeous, congrats Soph! x

Simon: ...

Simon: Anything else you'd like to say?

Penelope: Yeah any apology to extend?

Kate: Ok ok ok

Kate: Sophie I know I didn't believe you were in labour and refused to call an ambulance

Kate: But from my side of things it just seemed really convenient that your contractions started just as you were losing

Michael: This isn't an apology???

Simon: Your newborn nephew isn't evidence enough that you were clearly in the wrong???

Kate: Ok fine I'm sorry for not calling an ambulance when you needed it Sophie!

Sophie: K.

Kate: But I will add, who's to say she didn't fake contractions and then get induced once she got to the hospital?

Sophie has left the chat.

Michael: Jesus fucking Christ

Simon has removed Kate from the chat.

Simon has added Sophie to the chat.

Simon: Don't worry I removed her.

Sophie: Thanks Simon x

Phillip: One more question.

Phillip: Did the Bridgertons corrupt Kate to be like that or was she god forbid like that anyway?

Penelope: Unfortunately Kate married in being equally as deranged as them in any competitive setting 😔

Michael:

Simon: Very that.

[bunnny84]

I got into paper planners and journaling in June of this year and and it’s become a hobby now I guess because in the past I could never stick with it and here I have five notebooks I update daily/weekly.

It’s weird to say you love your planner but that one covered in stickers has so much of me in it. It’s my main planner everything goes in there. I’ve also done a bit of junk journaling in it too, where I just add stuff from my day or fun trips or wrappers from yummy snacks. There’s also a lot of gift cards from my favorite places in there. Most restaurants and stores will give you an empty gift card. You will get weird looks though lol

The one with flowers is my gratitude journal. Some days it really helps to actively look for the good because it’s so easy to spiral when things have been shitty.

The one with the banana charm is probably the most creative thing I’ve ever made lol it’s for memory keeping and I can’t wait until it’s full and all fluffed out!! I see other peoples Hobonichis and they get so thiccc lol I can’t draw but I fill it with stickers and “junk journal”, saving every scrap of my day lol my Husband now knows to check before he tosses anything out.

(I don’t to know if junk journaling is collecting and keeping what most people would throw away or if it’s actually making a journal out of junk/scraps of things. Does it matter?)

The journal with strawberries is for journaling/brain dumps. It’s where all the feelings go and it’s not decorated at all inside aside from a few random stickers. I try to focus on getting thoughts out and not so much caring what it looks like.

The pink one with breakfast on it is my “List Planner” it’s just a daily to-do list because I work full time, I’m a parent, and I’m in an Ultrasound program so I always feel like I’m drowning with things that need to be done. I still feel overwhelmed but at least I know what needs to be done and when and half the time I get it completed lol

It’s very relaxing to just still and “play” in my planners. For someone who isn’t good at creating this is my way of being creative I guess.

[sunrayram]

im super interested in alastor’s and niffty’s dynamic in this au!! im not really sure how to word this question but do you have anything youve been thinking about with them, outside of him just being very protective/possessive over her, and her still being fairly loyal to him? any headcanons or ideas you have for the two of them?

Alastor has two whole friends before the events of canon, Mimzy and Nifty. Even though he'll never admit it, he desperately needs both of them.

I've gone into his relationship with Mimzy before, but she basically acts as the only person Alastor can really let loose around. Alastor only really has some genuine fun when Mimzy's around.

When it comes to Nifty, she's the closest thing Alastor has to family on this side of the mortal plane. Nifty is the first soul Alastor owned, and it was honestly a pretty painless affair. At the time, Nifty's ex-husband had still been alive in hell, and Alastor promised to keep her safe in exchange for her soul. The ex-husband has long since been dealt with, but Nifty has no complaints about Alastor still holding her soul. She once jokingly told him that it was likely in safer hands now.

here's some fun stuff about these two!

Alastor cooks, and Nifty bakes. Nifty is the only one who's allowed to go in and out of the kitchen with no complaints from Alastor, and they can spend hours there together, singing along to classic jazz from the radio.

Alastor is not allowed to just say whatever he wants on his radio show, since it's now a part of the Jackpot Casino. That means he has a lot of opinions built up that he's not allowed to share. If he's not yelling these opinions at Husk, he's passionately sharing them with Nifty. She thinks they're funny. Sometimes, she'll bargain with him. He'll be allowed to rant for an hour, and then she'll get an hour to read her latest fanfiction out loud. Only her sfw stuff tho, obviously. (She reads him found family fic as a not-so-subtle-hint of how she feels about him. It goes right over his head.)

Nifty and Alastor play a weird version of fuck/marry/kill when they have the same shifts at the casino. Nifty points out the people she'd fuck/marry, and Alastor points out the people he'd kill. It's fun, I guess.

Nifty really really wants them to get a pet. Alastor banned any discussion of dogs, and Nifty's slightly allergic to cats. She has a list she's been secretly making of animals she thinks Alastor would like. It goes as follows:

Possum: eats bugs. Frog: no fur, not dirty (?) eats bugs. Alligator: Alastor has an alligator skull. Might like them. Bat: eats bugs. Con: Might have rabies? Deer: Maybe some form of kinship. Pig: Actually pretty clean. Makes funny noises. Anteater: eats bugs.

Alastor loves collecting trinkets, which actually annoys Nifty to no end bc it means his room isn't clean/organized. He apologizes by bringing back little gifts whenever he goes out. He also keeps his collections away from areas Nifty frequents so it doesn't bother her as much.

Alastor has banned Nifty from gambling at the casino. The one time she tried, she lost almot 500,000 dollars in one night. Even Husk was horrified.

They're both a bit mad, but they like it that way. Nifty's one of the only people around who doesn't want Alastor to change. Whether or not that's a good thing ... ehhh who knows. But it's priceless to him.

[eddiemadmunson]

Chase

And here is a second birthday gift for my bestie @hamatoanne​​​ 😏😏😈😁 Happy birthday babe, I hope you will enjoy this dark filthy fic 😏😏😈💕 I love you 😘😘

Paring: Aemond x fem!reader Word count: 5, 200 Warnings: dirty talk, kidnapping, chasing, dagger play, blood play, choking, oral sex (female receiving), non-con, dub-con

You woke up shivering and with a pouncing headache. You slowly opened your eyes and noticed that you were definitely not inside your chambers. You quickly opened your eyes and groaned when you felt the sharp pain in your head. What the hell is going on? You didn’t get drunk last night. The last think you remembered was a calm evening with your husband, dinner with his annoying family and then you peacefully fell asleep in his arms. You slowly sat up and waited until the world stopped spinning around you. You hesitantly opened your eyes again and looked around you. You were in the dungeon that was for sure. Did someone drugged you and kidnap you right under your husband’s nose? It sounded impossible. Of course he had many enemies, he was an important man, but he would have never let anyone take you away from him, at least not without a fight. Oh no, did anything happened to him? You shivered in fear.  “Look, Berryck, sleeping beauty is finally awake,” someone chuckled mockingly and you realized that you were not alone. You turned your head to the left and spotted two men sitting in the cells next to yours. “Where am I?” you asked them, your voice raspy and weak. “You are in the dungeons under the Red Keep,” one of them said and looked at you like if you were stupid. “I am still in King’s Landing?” you asked and felt relieved that you were not far away from your home.  “I wouldn’t sound so happy, little one,” the other man chuckled cruelly. “You were captured by Prince Aemond Targaryen. And if you are from here, you know what kind of sick, dangerous games he likes to play with his prisoners. Especially with female prisoners,” he added and you shivered, this time with pure terror. Of course you heard a lot of stories about the young Prince. Half of them weren’t truth you were more that sure about it, but some of them had to be truth and he was terrifying. Everything about King’s younger brother was making your blood running cold in your veins. He lost his eye when he was a small boy, one of his own nephews maimed him like that. Most people would fall into misery and self pity and depression, but it seemed that the lost of his eye made the young Prince more determined to become the best fighter in the seven kingdoms. He trained with the sword every day and bacame the fiercest swordsman in the Kingdom. Men were trembling at the mentioning of his name and women trembled with desire to catch Prince's eye. But they didn't know about his dark desires. He liked kidnapping women and playing dangerous games with them, he liked to make them his prey and chase them through the castle, fucking them in the various chambers and halls.  You closed your eyes to try to collect your own thoughts and try to find out a way out of this mess. You hoped that your husband would try to save you, but now when you knew that it’s Prince Aemond who imprisoned you, you lost hope. Your husband couldn’t win a fight against the Prince. You need to get out of here on your own. You looked around yourself desperately, but you were sitting in a very simple prison cell, there was only an uncomfortable bed and bucket in the corner, nothing more. Suddenly you heard someone coming to you. You feared that it will be Prince Aemond, but it was only some male servant. He tossed you a piece of bread and cheese and a water skin and left without a word. “Look at it, Berryck. They gave her something to eat and drink, I guess the Prince wants her well fed and hydrated for his wicked plans for her,” the man in the next cell said and you gulped uncomfortably. “You are right, Meylos. He needs her strong, so he can fuck her all night. I heard that he is into some really dark kinky shit... his servants get rid of the bodies in the morning,” the other one added and you really hoped that they are just trying to mess with your head. You spent rest of the day trying to figure out how to get out of this situation or how to inform your husband that you are down here, but you couldn’t think about anything that would help you. In the evening the same male servant came to you and this time he didn’t serve you food but he brought you a green dress. “Prince Aemond demands you wear this dress,” he said without any emotion in his voice. “I don’t care what he wants, I won’t wear it,” you said stubbornly and the man looked at you with tired expression. “If you won’t put on this dress yourself, I have permission to let those two out of their cells and help you to get dressed,” he threatened you with calm voice. “Listen, my husband has money and power, just send him a word that I am here and you will be rewarded, he will rescue you from this terrible duty,” you tried to bribe him, but he kept his face neutral. “You have to get dressed. So, will you do it alone, or do you need some help?” he insisted and you sighed desperately. “All right. I will do it myself,” you replied and you could hear Berryck and Meylos grunt in disappointment.  “Can you please turn around?” you asked him and he raised his eyebrow. “Please, at least let me have some privacy,” you begged him and he hesitated. “Please, I beg you,” you tried again and looked at him in desperation. “Ok, but be quick, my Prince Aemond hates when he is left to wait,” he turned around and you quickly grabbed the still empty bucket and hit him across the back of his head. He let out a soft “huh” and fell on the ground unconscious. You quickly stepped over him and raced to the door. “Hey, beautiful! What about us? Let us out, we can help you escape!�� Berryck shouted. “How stupid do you think I am?” you laughed. “You two would kill me or try to sell me to my husband. You can rot here and keep telling each other horror stories about the One-eyed Prince,” you showed them your middle finger and continued running towards the entrance, completely ignoring them shouting obscenities at you. You quickly found your way out of the dungeons, carefully looking around yourself, if anyone is following you or not. For a second you thought that someone is hiding behind the statue of a dragon, but it was only a shadow casted by the flaming torches. You quietly walked through the crowded streets and slipped out of the gates into the dark woods. They won’t look for you here. They would think that noble lady like you would never ran into the scary, dangerous woods. You slowed down after few minutes. You made sure that no one is following you and if you keep running you will soon exhaust yourself and you will probably start going in circles. You tried to remember what your husband taught you about how to keep a direction in the woods but you couldn’t remember any of his advices. You didn’t listen to him carefully, thinking that you would never need such information. You decided to choose a direction and keep walking that way. You walked for few moments when you felt the small hair on your neck rose. You felt someone’s presence behind you. It’s only my imagination playing tricks on me, you tried to convince yourself. But the feeling was stronger with every step you took. You stopped walking and listened carefully to your surroundings. You heard the natural sounds of the forest, you could hear the leaves whispering in the tree crowns, you heard owl hooting on the branches, somewhere in the distance a wolf started howling, but other than that there was silence. You relaxed and started walking again, when you sensed it again that creeping feeling that you have been watched. You looked around you, trying to see better in the dark. Is there someone standing next to that giant oak tree over there? It looked a little like a male figure, but your eyes could play tricks on you. You started walking in the opposite direction and nothing happened, your hesitant steps slowly turned into light jog and after that you started running. You just knew that there was someone watching your every move, waiting for you to drop your defenses and attack you. You were running more quickly than you have ever ran in your life. You were tripping over roots and branches on the ground, by some miracle you didn’t fall down on the ground and got impaled by a branch. You could hear the long strides behind you, someone was definitely chasing you. You started running faster but you knew that you can’t run like this for a long time, you weren’t trained for this. The muscles of your legs were already burning and you were breathing heavily. You could hear your pursuer getting closer. You quickly hid behind a huge tree, trying to catch your breath and stay as quiet as possible. There was silence again, but you knew that somewhere close behind you is lurking a dangerous predator. “Who would have said that you can run this fast, little bunny,” a smooth voice said very close to you, much closer than you expected. His voice was cultivated and he was barely out of breath, he was obviously better trained than you were. “Are you already exhausted? I expected this chase to be little bit longer and more challenging,” he mocked you and you felt your heart beating fast. You peaked out from behind the tree trunk and you finally spotted your pursuer. He was dressed in black leathers, his long sword strapped to his hip, his long silver blonde hair shinning in the moon light and his signature eye patch covering his eye. You were hunted by the dark Prince Aemond Targaryen himself and you knew that you are doomed because this man was wicked and merciless. “Come on little bunny, I know that you have more energy in that pretty body of yours,” he continued mocking you. You had two chances, you could surrender and hope that your death will be quick and painless, which you doubted or you could try to escape him and keep running through the woods. Your whole life you have been a fighter so you decided to keep fighting for your life. You took few light steps, staying hidden behind the tree for few seconds. “I can see you, little bunny,” he smirked and your eyes met for few seconds. There was no mercy or kindness in them, just a darkness and thrill from a hunt. You started running again, trying to escape your killer. You heard him laughing behind you. It was terrifying, his laughter was almost genuine but there was a hint of darkness and madness in it. He gave you few moments to give you the illusion that you have a chance to escape him. But when he stopped laughing like a maniac you knew that he started chasing you again. You kept running without looking back and he was silent that you didn’t hear his approaching steps. You thought that maybe you were lucky and you outrun him but than a strong hand wrapped around your ankle, you fell on your stomach on the roots and dirt on the ground and a hard body flattened yours to the surface, crushing you with his weight. “Got you,” he growled and flipped you over. You started fighting against him. You were kicking and screaming, trying to push him off your body. You fists were hitting his chest violently but you might as well be hitting a wall. “Did you get lost, little bunny?” he teased you, smiling cruelly at you. “Get off me, my husband will kill you for treating me like this,” you shouted, still desperately trying to get out from his grasp, you tried to wiggle, to set yourself free but it was impossible. He was gripping you with utter ease while you were using all your strength against him. “I would like to see him try,” he chuckled darkly. You tried to attack him with your fists but he easily caught your hands and pinned them above your head with one of his strong arms. “Did you really think that you could escape me so easily? I thought that you are smarter than this,” he said, his voice smooth like a velvet. “Did you really think that my servant would be so stupid to turn his back to you and let you escape like this?” he tsked, his tone disappointing. “You did it on purpose?” you asked him, your voice slightly trembling. “Yes, bunny. I love chasing my prey,” he ran one of his long, delicate fingers over your heated cheek. “You look so much prettier when you are scared, the terror in your eyes is very arousing,” he continued and you felt disgusted by him, so you did the only thing you could in this position and spit on him. You wanted to hit his good eye, but he turned his head, so your saliva was now running down his pale cheek. You noticed the flash of anger in his eye before he wrapped his long fingers around your throat and pulled you closer to him, so now you were face to face. You looked deep into his violet eyes and wondered how someone so cruel and wicked can be so beautiful.  “You are a wild little thing, aren’t you? But don’t worry, I will tame you soon enough,” he promised and pressed his thumb over your pulse point, making it difficult for you to breath. “Lick it from my face,” he commanded and you frowned in confusion. “You spat on me, so now you will lick my face clean,” he repeated, his eye never leaving yours. “No,” you struggled against his grip, but the lack of oxygen made you weak. “You need to learn a lesson, little bunny. "No" is not a word I want to hear from your pretty lips. Lick it off,” he growled and his grip on your throat tightened, you had no other choice than to obey him if you didn’t want him to choke you to death. You hesitantly licked your spit from his cheek, tasting his skin on your tongue, you could swear you tasted fire and sulfur on it, but maybe it was just your imagination since you knew that he is riding a dragon every day. “Good girl, it wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it?” he purred and you couldn’t help yourself but his praise made you shiver, and this time it wasn’t with fear. He watched you closely, drinking your every reaction to him, so of course he noticed the sudden change in your behavior. “What is it, bunny? You like to be called a good girl?” he asked and you squirmed uncomfortably under him.  “But you don’t deserve to be called a good girl, bunny. You have been very, very bad girl... running away from me like this,” he finally let go of your throat and you took a deep breath. He reached towards his waist and pulled out his silver dagger with Targaryen crest on the hilt. He twirled it in his skilled fingers and you tried to ignore the rush of excitement you felt at the movement. But this man was very observing and of course he noticed your flushed cheeks. “Oh, little bunny, I think you will be my favorite fuck toy,” he groaned darkly and your eyes followed the dagger in his hand with caution. “Please, just kill me, don’t dishonor me like this,” you begged him with shameful tears in your eyes. “Kill you? That’s a possibility, yes. But you are my new toy, pet. And I take a good care about my pets,” he smirked darkly. You felt the tip of his dagger at the top of your dress. The thought that the sharp blade could nip at your skin kept you still as he slashed your dress in half and it fell off your body. Your exposed nipples were hard in the cold night. You gasped in shock and he took the opportunity of your distraction and kissed you. Hard. He didn’t give you any space or time for escaping his demanding kiss. You fought against him, you refused to open your lips for him, but he bit your bottom lip hard, you felt the coppery taste of your own blood on your tongue and you gasped in pain, he slipped his tongue into your mouth and at the same time you felt the tip of his dagger making circles around your areola. You felt a zap of pleasure at that action and you immediately felt a rush of shame. You body should not react like this to such an assault. You could taste your own blood on his lips and it shouldn’t be so erotic, but it made your heart beat faster. He smirked against your lips, reading your body like a book. He pressed the tip of his dagger against your nipple and cut it lightly. It didn’t really hurt, it was just a little sting, but your body totally betrayed you and you moaned into the kiss. He deepened the kiss and this time you didn’t fight him, but you kissed him back with a lot of anger and frustration. The kiss became hungry and possessive. You felt like if he will never let you breathe again. When he finally pulled away from your swollen lips you were both panting.  “Your are kinky little bunny, aren’t you, love?” he licked your blood from his lips and dragged the dagger down the valley between your breasts, lower to your belly button and with one powerful move tore through your panties. You let out a shriek that sounded dangerously like a whimper, you were soaked and you didn’t know how it happened. He slid the blunt side of the dagger against your wet pussy. He lifted it under the moonlight and you watched as it glistened with your arousal. “You are so wet for me, bunny. And we barely started. Tell me, little one, does your husband satisfy you at all?” he mocked you and wanted to smack him for such an insult. “How dare you, my husband is very skilled in bedroom, he make me scream his name every night, you sick bastard,” you shouted at him and you noticed something flinch in his eye at the word >>bastard<<. “It might be the true, but you still want this bastard, to fuck your wet pussy, little bunny,” he said darkly and you watched in fascination as he licked your arousal from the blade. “You taste so sweet for such a wild thing, little bunny,” he groaned and you felt your pussy throb at the sight. He twirled the dagger again and placed it against the soft skin of your belly. “I will let go of your hands now, bunny. But try to escape or hit me and will stab you with it, do you understand me?” he asked you firmly and you nodded. You didn’t give up yet, but right now you had no other chance than to obey him. He let go of your hands and lowered himself between your legs. “Spread them for me, show me how wet this pussy truly is,” he demanded but you refused to do it. He nudged your side with the dagger, cutting your skin slightly. “I won’t ask you twice, bunny!” he warned you and you reluctantly parted your legs, exposing your cunt to his hungry eyes. “Hmm, you can keep struggling against me all you want, but your cunt speaks differently,” he looked at you from between your legs, his eye almost dark with desire. He kept looking into your eyes, as he licked your wet slit, his long nose nudged your clit. You wanted to resist, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but it felt too good. He knew what he was doing with his skillful tongue. “S-s-s-stop!” you moaned when he slid two of his long fingers inside you and at the same time his mouth attacked your clit. “Don’t lie to yourself, bunny. You don’t want me to stop,” he said between flicking your clit with his tongue. “You don’t want me to stop, you want to cum on my tongue, filthy little bunny,” he chuckled and dragged his teeth over your abused clit. You moaned again, your body no longer listening to your foggy brain. He curled his fingers inside you, hitting the spot that made your knees go weak. “Come on, give it to me. Don’t be shy. You are so close, little one,” he taunted you and you fought against your own body but  the look in his eye and the constant pressure against your g-spot got you closer and closer to your orgasm. He didn’t break the eye contact as his sinful lips sucked your clit into his mouth again and this time you couldn’t hold it and you came on his tongue, trembling and breathing deeply. He lapped all of your juices and licked your pussy clean, you tried to escape his tongue, your sensitive pussy protesting against the continuous assault but he kept you still with his strong hand. “See, bunny, you can be a little girl when you want,” he smirked and you noticed that the dagger was no longer pressed to your side. You quickly kicked him off your body and started running again, naked and tired but you fought for your life. But he quickly caught you, he slammed you against the tree trunk, the remains of your dress protecting your back, but you could still feel the harsh bark digging into your skin. “Bad bunny, don’t run away from me,” he pressed you harder against the trunk, his fingers wrraped around your throat. “I am not done with you, little one,” he smiled cruelly. “Fuck you,” you shouted at him, wiggling, trying to get out of his grasp. He picked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist and slammed you back against the tree. He pinned your hands above your head. “Oh, you will, bunny. Soon enough,” he captured your lips in another aggressive kiss. His free hand roamed your body, pinching your nipples harshly. You whimpered into the kiss and he smiled in triumph. “I can see, your husband might love you, but he can’t satisfy your dark tendencies, you were not made for gentle love making. You just want someone to chase you in the woods and fuck you hard against the tree,” he murmured into your ear while he pinched your nipple harder, earning even louder whimpers from your lips. “That’s not a true, you monster!!” you shouted and his hand found your clit again and he slapped it harshly. You didn’t recognize the sound that left your lips after that.   “Good bunnies don’t lie, Y/N,” he said angrily and you were so ashamed of yourself. You were in very dangerous situation, he will probably fuck you and then kill you, but you felt more aroused than ever before. Since the moment he twirled that dagger in his fingers you pussy was throbbing with need. Aemond was pure darkness that was calling to your deepest and most hidden urges and needs.   “Your pussy is soaked for me, bunny. Don’t try to pretend that you don’t like this,” he whispered darkly into your ear, biting your earlobe. “No, I don’t want this,” you said but your protests were weak. He started suckling at your neck and collar bones, leaving dark purple bruises behind him, if you will survive this your body will be full of his marks. He bit down on your neck and you let out a choked whimper, he licking the spot with his tongue, soothing the pain a little. He pushed you higher on the tree, so your breasts were right in front of his face. His long arms were still able to hold your hands pinned above your head. “Admit it, bunny. You like this,” he demanded and pulled out his dagger again. You watched his hand with mixture of fear and arousal. “Aemond, please,” you begged him not knowing what are you begging him for exactly at this point. Did you want him to let you go and never chase you again or if you begged him to continue and give you what your dark soul wanted. “What do you want, bunny?” he placed the dagger on the soft skin of your breast right above your nipple. “Stop fighting me, I will make you feel things you have never felt before,” he promised and cut your skin lightly. It wasn’t a deep cut, but you felt few drops of blood running down from the wound. Aemond watched your expression closely and smirked in satisfaction, when he saw the desire in your eyes. He sucked your nipple into his mouth, tasting your blood and you moaned loudly at the sight. You would never admit to your husband that you have a knife kink, that you always wanted to try something like this, most ladies at the court would think that you are a freak for having a fantasy like this. And this blonde haired demon read you like an opened book and gave you what you wanted. He bit your hard nipple and you screamed, your voice echoing through the woods. “That’s it bunny, scream for me, don’t hold back,” he encouraged you and moved to your other breast. He teased your hard peak for few moments and you groaned with impatience. “Already needy for me, look at you, bunny. How easily you turned into my little slut,” he mocked you and your protests were silenced by another possessive kiss. You kissed him back fiercely, your brain too foggy to think straight. He let go of your hands and they went around his strong shoulders and into his silver hair. He unlaced his breeches and you heard the soft thud when it hit the ground. He kept kissing you, his tongue dancing with yours in furious tango, he was almost suffocating you, he lifted your lips and entered you in one swift thrust. He groaned into the kiss and you bit his lip again, feeling overwhelmed by the way how his thick cock stretched your pussy. “Fuck bunny, you are so fucking tight and wet for me,” he grunted and started thrusting into you, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. He was big, too big, it was painful but you liked the pain, it was soon mixed with the wave after wave of pleasure. You wrapped your legs more tightly around him, pulling him even closer to you, he pushed you little bit higher and the new angle allowed him to go even deeper into you. He rut into you grinding as if he needed to get deeper, as deep inside you as he could to stake his claim and never leave. His hand went around your throat, cutting out your air supplies. “You are fucking mine now, little bunny! You belong to me!” he announced and you wanted to protest, you wanted to tell him, that you belong to your husband, but you weren’t able to form a coherent words, he saw it on your face and smirked darkly, laughing like he laughed when he chased you through the woods, like an evil maniac who enjoys to ruin you like this. And you shouldn’t feel attracted to it, but Gods damn you, that laughter made you even more horny. “Fuck, your cunt is squeezing me so tightly, are you close, little one?” he growled and you cried out as the head of his cock brushed against your g-spot. The young dragon knew that he hit the right spot, he groaned breathily as he increased his speed, deliberately angling his strokes to abuse the spot. You loud screames filled the cold night air. “Will you be a good little bunny and cum on my cock, Y/N?” he asked you and kept hitting the spot inside you that made your brain mushy. “Yes, I, please!! Don’t stop,” you begged him, completely lost at this point. All you wanted was to cum with him deep inside you. Your vision blurred as Aemond's grip on your neck tightened, strained moans somehow escaping your throat even from the strong grip he had. You could hear the lewd squelching noises from Aemond's pounding as well as his breathy grunts and moans. Your moans started getting louder and more strained as you could feel your orgasm coming up. “So cum for me, bunny, squeeze my cock so I will cum hard inside your tight cunt, filling you up with my baby,” he grunted into your ear and you exploded around him, screaming his name loudly, crying tears of shame and overwhelming pleasure. Your velvet walls squeezed his cock tightly and his orgasm hit him hard, he bucked into you so hard that the bark bit painfully into your back and he bit down on your shoulder leaving a neat row of teeth marks. He cum deep inside you, filling you up with his warm seed. You were both panting heavily, looking at each other in the silence of the night. He gently placed you back on the ground and captured your lips in deep, loving kiss. “Are you happy, satisfied?” he asked you and you smiled at him stupidly. “That was amazing, Aemond, thank you,” you hugged him and he chuckled. “Anything for you, my dear wife,” he pulled out of you, his cum dripping out of you on the ground. “Tell me all of your dark fantasies and will make them come true,” he promised and you shivered at all the possibilities. “My mind is a dark place, Aemond,” you warned him. “You married a dragon Prince, my love. You can’t scare me,” he smirked at you. “Let’s go home, my love. I don’t want you to get sick because of running naked in the woods, even though I like the view,” he smiled warmly at you and gently pushed you back towards the castle. “I am sorry that I called you bastard, and spit into your eye, I got too much into the role,” you stopped him and looked at him sincerely. “That’s OK, my love. I am sorry for cutting you,” he stroked the small cut on your chest and you shivered with need. “Don’t worry about that, I loved it,” you winked at him and he groaned. “OK, bunny. Let’s go home before I will have my way with you again here,” he swept you off your feet and carried you back in his strong arms. “But it will be my fantasy that we will role play next time, my dear wife,” he promised you darkly and you shivered with anticipation. You loved Aemond Targaryen with all of your heart and you couldn’t wait to hear about all of his fantasies and wishes.  

[chantsdemarins]

🏰Breath of the Æsir {Loki X Fem.Reader} Chapter 3: Stories Cannot Burn or Disappear

I am so sorry these chapters are taking me so long. I haven't been the same since Covid! I hope the quality is still good...Thank you for joining my crazy medieval AU Loki fever dream era.

There is a bit of Easter and eclipse magic wound up in this chapter!

Summary: Loki isn't the only one who thinks you are more than a human woman, which buys you time while you figure out how to keep your manor and tenants safe. However, the challenge of nursing a debilitated, power-stripped god adds a layer of complexity to your already daunting task, clouding your judgment when clarity is most needed.

Note to Reader: Yes, Hozier is now a character, your eyes aren't playing tricks on you 😭 But which character will he be? Guess and comment!

Passion and Romance Meter: Nothing explicit yet but hopefully you feel it boiling.

I hope these people don't mind being tagged! I thought you might want to be tagged! Please let me know if you don't want the tag or if you want to be tagged. Also comments and reblogs are healing and joyous for me!

@arcielee @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @thomase1 @mcufan72 @caffiend-queen @fictive-sl0th @muddyorbsblr @anukulee @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @sailorholly @lokisgoodgirl @shambelle97 @lokischambermaid @eleniblue @smolvenger @wheredafandomat @hiroyukinasukawa @meowmeow-motherfucker @latent-thoughts @buttercupcookies-blog @lcolumbia1988 @soulpiercing @wolfsmom1 @mysticmarvelfan

@holdmytesseract @superficialdomina @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @mjsthrillernp @arcielee @poetic-fiasco @gruftiela @thegodofnotknowing @thedistractedagglomeration @tallseaweed

@dangertoozmanykids101 @jennyggggrrr

The clay soil in your husband’s land hadn’t fully absorbed the blood of the Christian god. Not yet at least. The claustrophobic land was hemmed by bogs and marshes, lowlands with the familiar wooden gods made from branches poking out of the muddy banks. The tides to the east would fill the saturated earth till she could take no more before becoming a lake. This system of pooling respiration created a natural barrier for the people. The stillness of the water meant you didn’t stop for long, just enough time to plant your wooden god or light a beeswax candle, burn some leaves as an offering, and then find fast footing across the rickety log bridges built by people no one could remember.

In spring, a carpet of blue wood betony would appear. The town's folk's talk led you to forage it, keeping the blossoms and stems in dark Roman glass, tucked on the kitchen shelf next to the salt. Your husband never noticed your collection, or if he did, he never mentioned it as anything particular or strange. It was a relief to find plants that grew elsewhere, unlike the state of the manor land — high on a hill, flanked by rocky, sandy soil. Collecting plants often made you wonder if Christ might rise from the bogs. You'd just have to wait and see, you supposed, imagining Christ emerging naked from the thick peaty waters, stray herbs clinging to his torso.

Perhaps when Loki showed up, bleeding from his stomach, you'd envisioned something like that before. That desert man had a different name, Jesus of Nazareth. You blushed at the thought of any man, holy or common.

Yet, you didn't blush much while sewing Loki back up. Stitches plunged down his torso into places you'd only seen hinted at on the marble body of Jupiter in Eboracum. Your confident needlework proved itself. If your cheeks reddened, it wasn't from embarrassment but from lack of oxygen, struggling to breathe. Saving a life required haste, much different from the crafts of passing time.

The day the Northmen came you had been already struggling to breathe, you’d lost your air completely and found Loki’s form in front of you when your eyes finally opened again. His hair like ash from the hearth, his eyes the most peculiar color of blue, much like the betony in your waiting Roman jars. Just where had you gone when you’d lost your air? Loki had refused to confront the Danes, refused to fight them. He had handed you back his weapon, leaving you to confront the invaders yourself.

After all, you became a manor wife because your origins had burned in your village's fire, but not in the stories that followed. Stories cannot burn or disappear, especially when people fleeing tell them to the right people in the countryside. Your husband's family had heard your father's tales and believed him. Your hand in marriage was worth more than any dowry. It was all the more disappointing when you couldn't produce an heir or embroidery, and the manor lands remained sandy, rocky, and haunted. You hadn't known a husband should stay close or lie with his wife until Elinor finally told you. Your confidence to heal a stranger, to meet the Northmen at their boat, came from your father. He told you who you were, and like the manor people, you believed him — even if you didn't understand what you were.

The sky had darkened as you came to the mahogany longship anchored next to the wind-ravaged cliffs. You knew to avert your eyes from the mast, the Northern dragon guardian was designed to kill folk such as you. A provocation to your ancestors. There was confusion at their camp, what seemed like hundreds of men were pointing above and shaking their heads. A seer had cast the runes, and the chieftain seemed to not like what the seer had spoken. The rugged man looked up at the sky once more and sent what looked like an envoy to you. He blamed the Norns and you in yet another language you didn’t understand. He could not kill you because it would only curse them more.

Stunned, your trembling hands clutched Loki's blade in disbelief. You ran beneath the still darkening sky, which seemed poised for rain, though no clouds were visible. Looking up, you saw something unimaginable. A planet had fully eclipsed the sun. Your people knew of these events, but you had not witnessed one yourself. As you ran you wondered if the land's spirits had cast a powerful enough curse to scare the Northmen.

Returning home, you found only Loki in the makeshift courtyard, fever-ridden, slumped over the fence. Your heart sank, fearing he was actually dead this time. But the breath of the Æsir still moved through him, you could see his chest moving as you approached.

The village was silent, its people hiding. The only sound was the wind stirring the grain fields and the oak leaves in a dry, papery rhythm. Loki beckoned you inside but he was barely able to move to the porch, he was already worried you’d absorbed too much of the darkness. You fell into his arms, wincing from the feel of his fevered skin through your shift. Significantly taller, Loki's limbs resembled a freshly felled hawthorn. You dragged him closer to the front door, you both were exhausted in the strange day of night.

Your efforts paused for a moment, you readjusted your grip on the stranger. "Saturn is passing over the sun, an eclipse," Loki murmured, breaths faint and labored. How did he know this? Such knowledge was native only to your people. Still reeling from scaring off the Danes, you now faced an eclipse. Loki speculated on the Northmen's possible interpretation of the event. Since much of their knowledge came from his world, he felt he knew exactly what they must have felt seeing the sky darken as you approached.

"They saw the eclipse as a sign of your power. They recognize planetary transits. As you approached them, Saturn crossed the sun's path, a coincidence perhaps in your favor," Loki continued. "But they'll return, and we need to be ready," he cautioned, aware of your mutual defenselessness. He felt responsible for the deaths across these isles, seeking balance, an unfamiliar concept.

You had wanted him to stay long enough to know who he was but now it appeared like he wasn't well enough to be able to leave, even if that is what you both wanted. The truth was, part of you didn't want him to go at all. There was something about him. He knew some of the old ways and where ever he had come from, you suspected again, he had once held a high status.

Loki also continued to contemplate your shared fates. Did the Norns truly allow for this meeting between you as part of the path of the raven’s wingspan, his destiny as a god with no power. He dared to speak to you some of his true thoughts. He felt he owed you some kind of explanation for his resistance to fighting on your behalf.

“Lady, I wish I could help you but as you see I am unwell from my wounds. When I heal, I would like to help you defend your home as part of my thanks, I will find a way to do that does not involve fighting. We have the cosmos on our side it seems, so perhaps there is more luck for our coming together. This is of course if you will continue to have me.”

His pale face seemed even more ghastly, and he laid his body on the porch in a heap, looking very similar to how you first found him. You felt a tenderness stir. You’d felt it for him when you were saving him but now it was tinged with worry for both of your lives and everyone who depended on you.

“Loki I don't want to heal you twice, but it seems this is my fate. Let’s see what you have within you still and if your Gods are listening. I expect you will tell me why you refuse to fight or why you cannot. You owe me the truth. There is much you are not saying.”

He knew he would not be able to hide himself from you as you seemed unable to hide yourself from him. The circumstances unfolding seemed like the actions of reverse spells, instead of concealing they were revealing who you both were. This was vexing to you both.

Despite his sincere words to you, Loki was not sure this troubled land was his final destination. He wondered if he should try and leave as soon as he was able. He was speaking with two tongues. Perhaps he should venture south, go to the Midgard places where panther Gods and pyramids covered in gold existed. Those people were said to do the bidding of the gods with even more ferocity than the Northmen.

Instead, he was sick with fever and stuck with a mysterious, beautiful, and angry woman, whose husband could return at any moment and kill him for what it looked like was happening, even in the middle of a possible invasion. Suddenly his reverie broke as you lifted his shirt to inspect his wound. Your worry for his fever could wait no longer.

"Lady," he said as he batted your hand away.

You protested back, “I have seen you already, why would you be shy now stranger? I need to check your wound, you are feverish,” you continued to pull up his shirt. His gash had indeed become weeping and likely the source of his fever. Whether you liked it or not, you were healing him once again it seemed.

“Wood betony, that is what you need, you are lucky I have some. I’ll see to it Elinor makes you a poultice, and then I am putting you in one of the downstairs bedrooms.” Your eyes were worried even if your words were not. Loki placed his weakened hand on your shoulder, and spoke solemnly, “You know, we need to find your husband.”

You turned your face from him, you didn’t want Loki to notice even the smallest bit of feeling.

“Of course, that is a good idea, this is his manor and his people after all,” you replied. “We can leave when the fever breaks and you can walk without me carrying half your weight,” there was the slightest tinge of playfulness in your words to your surprise. You hoped he did not notice.

As the day was moving into evening, the villagers whispered their suspicions about the stranger you aided. The darkened sky had unsettled them as much as the Northmen. Loki was right, without your husband the manor would devolve into chaos and this would leave the village even more vulnerable.

You watched Loki slowly drag his body to the downstairs bedroom and close the thick doors behind him before you had the chance to redirect him or wish him a good night. You thought better to tell him that he had gone into your husband’s bedroom not the servant’s quarters you had intended for him to rest.

You felt your stomach twist in knots. If your husband came home tonight the wrong impression you worried you would make, would surely be inevitable. You would have to go and move Loki once you were done with your chores. A prospect that left you even more anxious.

Finally, when everyone had gone to sleep and Elinor had gone to her quarters, you stood alone in the empty house contemplating what you should do next. Sleep seemed an impossibility. The eclipse had only been five minutes, but it disturbed the entire day. Now it was nearly midnight and it felt like morning. All time had shifted somehow. Loki sleeping in your husband's bedroom loomed in your head.

To quiet your thoughts you found yourself in the kitchen, sometimes cooking felt relaxing even if you were not good at it. Instead tonight you eyed the row of bottles on your shelf. There was something else calling to you. You grabbed a jar of mistletoe berries, and held them in your hands. Their color was startling.

Suddenly you busying yourself muddling them with the mortar and pestle. If there was a recipe to follow you did not know it, you pulled a few more bottles off the shelf and added the ingredients. Mullein leaves and blackberry.

Pausing for a moment you felt that Loki’s knife was still around your body, you had placed it in a leather holder diagonally across your chest, and forgotten it was there. The knife passed over your breasts and you couldn’t help but touch the length of it.

You hadn't the time to have paid much attention to it before. You noticed the unusual, rich craftsmanship. The inlay was extraordinary. Garnets and chrysoprase. You then gently pulled it out of the holder and carefully pricked your finger with the impossibly sharp tip. This action surprised you.

You inhaled deeply. Crimson blood rolled down your finger and into the stone mixing bowl. You placed your still bleeding fingertip into your mouth hoping to quickly stem the bleeding, but the knife had been too sharp, or you cut yourself too deep.

Quickly, you sucked the wound, blood filling your mouth. You spat the excess into the bowl and placed it on the windowsill, intuitively sensing it needed the moonlight. Just then you heard a deep voice behind you. You were frozen in place, unable to turn around. It was Loki.

"I had no idea you were a seer, you could have told me that sooner and it would have cleared things up," his words rich with sleep and something else.

When you finally turned around you saw he was only wearing his leather trousers and the poultice. Your heart produced a wild, unfamiliar beat, and you steadied yourself against the kitchen table. You weren't a seer, but you could not explain what you were just doing or what you were now feeling.

Before you could stop him, Loki took your mixture from the sill and drank it. "My gods what have you done?" the startled words fell out of your mouth as he placed the now empty bowl back into your hands.

[adarkrainbow]

Neverafter notes (1)

I am re-doing my Dimension 20: Neverafter notes. However I will go in a slightly different direction – since not many people are interested in these posts, and I do them mostly for me anyway, I’ll go with a… drier listing style I guess? Here my notes covering the three first episodes – aka the first arc of the season – aka the entirety of what we have with the first version of the Neverafter multiverse. Episode 1, The Time of Shadows. Episode 2, Mirror, Mirror. Episode 3, No Place for a Prince or Princess.

THE CHILDREN OF DESTINY:

Rosamund du Prix is Sleeping Beauty. More precisely she is a take on Disney’s Aurora – between her backstory involving three good fairies and a wicked one (the good fairies being recognizable by their colors, the third being dressed in blue) and the character herself being played like your “typical Disney princess cliché” (and twisted around – the whole thing of animal handling and survival in the wood being a D&D Ranger, or how her gifts of beauty and grace are about maintaining good-looks despite living in the wild and having agility bonus). There’s however some brothers Grimm points thrown into it all – such as the focus on “briars” and how the thorns killed all the princes that tried to reach

Gerard of Greenleigh is The Frog Prince (aka the popular culture take on the brothers Grimm fairytale “The Frog King”). Frog humanoid= D&D Hobgoblin.

Pib is Puss in Boots. From the French fairytale of Charles Perrault. Talking cat scoundrel = D&D’s Tabaxi Rogue. By episode 3, Alphonse (the mule from the original fairytale) turns out to be an actual talking animal too and to still be around the Neverafter.

Pinocchio is… well Pinocchio. Talking puppet = D&D’s Warforged. Is a Warlock, with his broken nose as his wizard’s staff and the Stepmother as his patron.

Timothy “Mother” Goose. Mother Goose. Famous figure-of-speech/title expression thanks to Perrault, but only became its own character in England, where she became the British “mascot” for nursery rhymes and fairy tales. Even got a nursery rhyme of her own, “Old Mother Goose and her son Jack”, of which Timothy as a character derives from. The Jack from this nursery rhyme is also the Jack of the game which is ALSO the “Jack be nimble” rhyme. Timothy’s husband, Henry Hubbard, is also from the nursery rhyme world – “Old Mother Hubbard”. Storyteller witch and caretaker = D&D’s Bard.

Ylfa Snorgelsson. Is Little Red Riding Hood: the Perrault version (since there was no Huntsman or Woodsman to save her, and she was “eaten” in the end – more here bitten and turned into a werewolf), but with touches and dashes of the Grimm version (the axe evoking the Woodsman, the whole thing about “not straying from the path”). Turning Little Red Riding Hood into a werewolf story has been made very popular thanks to the first influential work of fiction who did it: Angela Carter’s Gothic collection “The Bloody Chamber” which contains three short stories interweaving werewolves and Little Red Riding Hood (The Werewolf, The Company of Wolves, Wolf-Alice). These three tales were mixed in the cult classic movie “The Company of Wolves”, which added to Carter’s plotlines an exploration of the symbolic puberty of a young girl – something that is also explored in how Ylfa’s lycantrophy is treated. Werewolf Little Red still a popular take (the 2011 movie).

SOURCES OF INFLUENCE FOR THIS SEASON:

Into the Woods. Definitively. They make it very obvious. The giants being one of the main threats crushing everything ; the way the briars talked to Rosamund about keeping her safe (the Witch’s “Stay with me”), how Brennan and the gang repeat “Into the woods” in episode 2.

The Book of Lost Things – very possible. The Time of Shadows works so much like how there’s this cyclical corruption of the fairytale world in this novel. And both are about a magical quest to restore the land centered around a magical book supposedly containing all of the answers…

Fables. Maybe? I have never seen anywhere else the idea of “The de-transformed prince slowly turns back to his cursed form as the love of the princess wanes” (Gerard and Elodie, Beast and Beauty). Also the use of “living archetypes” within a collective fairytale world – something that Fables also became very famous for. Plus the Snow Queen being shown as an antagonist and an invading force.

Guillermo del Toro’s Pan Labyrinth. Maybe? The moment of “let’s all touch the book” in episode 2, especially when some drawings started appearing out of blood, reminded me of the magic book of this movie. Plus, it is a classic of “dark fairytale” movies, or “fairytale horror” if you prefer.

Terry Pratchett’s Witches Abroad. Almost certain, if not definitively. The entire sequence of Rosamund meeting the traumatized mice and talking to them reuses almost word for word the ideas that Pratchett brought in his novel about animals in fairytales being driven mad at being forced at acting humans. The entire thing of the Fairy Godmother and her transformed minions seems pulled out straight of the “fairytale horror” of this novel and of Genua’s fairy godmother tyrannical rule.

Shrek. Probably? After all it is the most famous piece of American media to deal with fairytales outside of the Disney movies… At least it is frequently referenced by the players.

FAIRYTALE CLICHES PLAYED AROUND WITH:

# “Happily ever after”. What happens once the fairytale ending is reach. The case of Elodie and Gerard is an especially fascinating case of exploring the metaphysical and human consequences of this idea. Elodie can’t stand the feeling that her life is supposed to end after her marriage, Gerard’s belief in happily ever after makes him passive and delusional, and the logical consequences of such a strange case of “meet-and-match” lead to the lovers with incompatible desires and personalities to fall apart. Logical consequences also evoked with Stephan, Pib’s owner, an illiterate miller son will have a hard time passing off as royal nobility.

# Magical things happening to royals naturally.

# “Do not stray from the path”. Pretty much unique to Ylfa’s fairytale, but still heavily discussed and played around (The important thing is that we stray together ; is it still straying from the path if a magical one opened in the woods).

# Bandlebridge is tricked by the old rule of “You must grant every demand of the magical being to get your reward”.

# Not a fairytale trope, but I love how the idea of “fireside stories” is reinvented with this magical silvery log that wards off the camp from “goblins and boggarts” as long as someone tells a story as it burns. Is it a real D&D item?

# The “dark forest” motif. Of course there is the “Black Wood” of Grimmweir… Though it is said to be but one of the several “primeval forests” filled with dangers on this continent. Averted with Rosamund’s ranger talents which turn a deadly travel into a pleasant stroll by episode 2.

# Some characters not having names in fairytales (The Stepmother lost her name, nobody can remember it).

# Emily asking to specify if it is “mother blood, stepmother blood, godmother blood, grandmother blood” is a good joke on how fairytale trolls and giants can somehow smell very specific types of blood “Smells like Christian blood”, “Smells like an Englishman’s blood”.

"Once upon a time". The answer to the total party kill that Ylfa gets from the Big Bad Wolf - "the end of the story" embodied revealing to her the "wicked beings" are all motivated by preventing the "turning of the pages" - and thus that the book isn't here to "restore" the world by returning into the past. It isn't about clinging to what once was, it is about moving forward and telling new tales - not returning to the happy ending as the Fairies obsess over but rather move forard to a new "Once upon a time..."

KINGDOMS AND HOW THEY FELL

# Rêverie. Sleeping Beauty’s kingdom (fitting name). Fell due to the Sleeping Beauty curse, as the briars overtook everything – because a thorny wilderness.

# Greenleigh. The Frog Prince’s kingdom. Fell due to a war as the Snow Queen’s armies invaded.

# Snowhold. The Snow Queen’s kingdom. Invaded Greenleigh for unknown reasons.

# Marienne. Puss in Boots’ kingdom. Fell to giants that crushed everything. It is unclear why, but given later episodes evoke the Ogre of Carabas as the giants’ little brother, it might be revenge. Also contains Amanti, Pinocchio and Gepetto’s village – so Marienne seems also to be the main country of Pinocchio’s adventures.

# The Lullaby Lands. As the name indicates, the place of all nursery rhymes. Not a kingdom as it has no central government and is more of a collection of autonomous communities – which already is a sign that it does not “fit” into the “Grimmweir” continent and was added to this fairytale world where everything is a kingdom. Pottingham is the village of Mother Goose and Ylfa – making it also the village of “Little Red Riding Hood”. Hasn’t much fell, but has known all sorts of horrifying manifestations (the Gander, the Wolf) ending in death (turned to skeleton, house and family blown away) plus recurring bad weather and persistent rain causing flooding.

# Jubilee = realm of Old King Cole. Fell to a war, though the details are unspecified. Given Jubilee was right next to Greenleigh it might have been the same war launched by the Snow Queen.

# Shoeberg = the Old Woman who Lived in a Shoe. A “festering boil” and one of the last thriving places in the Neverafter.

# Tapestry. Snow-White’s kingdom. Fell for unknown reason. See the Magic Mirror entry.

# Elegy. Cinderella’s realm. Also fell for unknown reasons – though we do know Cinderella’s hometown and the area around it “fell” due to the insanity and the spells of the undead Fairy Godmother. One of the symptoms of this kingdom falling is that the “courts of the sun and the moon” seem in disarray or conflict, leading to a very bizarre sky which is not in day nor night, and where the sun shines in a purple starry twilight (might be an Alice Through the Looking Glass reference – The Walrus and the Carpenter). Had a “burgeoning” middle-class of merchants, traders, artisans and craftsmen to which Cinderella’s father belonged, and the hunt of the prince with the shoe became the hot-gossip of neighboring royals (such as Gerard).

FAIRIES TALK

# So we have five confirmed fairies in this version of the Neverafter, plus a possible sixth one, and an ambiguous seventh. Rosamund had three good fairy godmothers – given the third one has a blue dress, and she asks about the undead fairy’s dress-color to identify her, we can assume going by the Disney code these fairies were the Red Fairy, Green Fairy and Blue Fairy. Plus the Wicked Fairy, dressed in black – who also was the Wicked Fairy involved in Pinocchio’s return-to-being-a-puppet as she came to just… kill all the fathers of Amanti I guess? She is clearly meant to be the archetypal “wicked fairy” (plus Disney’s Maleficent).

# The Fairy Godmother of Cinderella is stated to not be the same as the fairies of Rosamund’s story. Purple gown. Driven mad as Cinderella’s shard caused her to be stuck in a state “neither alive nor dead”, constantly bleeding out both blood and magic. Started turning every item she could meet into half-servants (and even before she was said to have gone on a spree of forcing people to fall in love and having animals turned into humans). Kept repeating Cinderella’s storyline to various degrees (help them win the “Mayfair queen”). The same way Rosamund’s fairies are a take on Disney’s fairies in “Sleeping Beauty”, this fairy is very clearly Disney’s Cinderella godmother (she even says her magical line) ; interestingly her having a crown on the head seems to be a nod to the enchantress/fairy of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, especially since the description of her minions (such as a bouncing armoire) are very clearly reminiscent of the sentient furniture in Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. Episode 3 confirms that she was the fairy who turned Gerard into a frog when he was a little boy to make him “learn manners” as she thought he was “rude” – again reinforces my theory that she has “Disney’s enchantress from Beauty and the Beast” vibes.

# The Sugarplum Fairy was possibly the sixth fairy of this world. When Herr Drosselmeyer turned into text, there were references to “sugarplums” and “a fairy”. If he had stayed longer perhaps we would have met her.

# The ambiguous seventh is the Fairy with Turquoise Hair. She is present and involved in Pinocchio’s backstory, as I write this I can’t recall if she is meant to be the same as the “Blue Fairy”. If not this makes her the sixth or seventh fairy of this world.

# Fairy blood smells like cinnamon, spice, sparks and ambers.

# The Fairy Godmother’s comment that “Magic was never yours, it is ours”: fairy monopole on magic?

MORE CULTURAL REFERENCES

# The Gander is the inversion of the traditional Mother Goose imagery + a twisted take on the “Goose Laying Golden Eggs” motif + a reinvention of the trope of the genie granting you three wishes, but in a horrifying and/or deadly way. Literal embodiment of the Time of Shadows as we will later learn, and not just one spirit among it (as such parallels The Crooked Man from The Book of Lost Things – also an evil wish-granter). Tumblr user lostsometime evoked how the Gander using the verb “wander” while taunting Timothy might be a reference to “Goosey Goosey Gander”.

# It will later be confirmed but we know here (especially from how Ylfa gains the power to blow away with her breath people and houses) that the Wolf is both the one from Little Red Riding Hood and The Three Little Pigs (British fairytale, Joseph Jacobs).

# The town of Shoeberg and the family who runs it, led by a 107 matriarch, is from the nursery rhyme “There was an old woman who lived in a shoe”.

# What was the Chandling Caravan/Company named after? The Rub-a-Dub-Dub/Three Men in a Tub nursery rhyme, because “chandler” is candle-making… Or maybe the old British children song “Tommy kept a chandler’s shop”? Or maybe none of this and I’m reading too much. The leader of the Caravan is of course from “The Little Red Hen” story (American “fable”, from Mary Mapes Dodge).

# Old King Cole = the nursery rhyme of the same name.

# Herr Drosselmeyer (“magician, clockmaker and godfather”) and the characters surrounding him are, of course, from “The Nutcracker” ballet. The Nutcracker himself is evoked in various ways as someone Drosselmeyer pursues: at first he is presented as a “clockwork man” and one of the magical creations of Drosselmeyer that got away and run off on its own ; later he is revealed to be Drosselmeyer’s godson: “driven to rash behavior by grief” he is now working on a revenge that worries Drosselmeyer. As he dissolves into text, there are mentions of the Sugarplum Fairy and the Mice King, “or King of Rats with seven heads”. Is the alternation “Mice King/King of Rats” important? If this season is indeed inspired by Pratchett’s fairytale twists, then it might have leaned into something akin to “The Amazing Maurice”, where the myth of the “rat-king” was mixed with the Pied Piper of Hamelin. Maybe the same here? Herr Drosselmeyer also seems to have been more than just a Nutcracker character… Everybody pointed out that him driving around in a teapot pulled by a giant rabbit, and having a magic mirror in his collection, gave off strong Alice vibes (plus there is a clock with a cat symbol on it that stops time… Cheshire Cat and Mad Hatter?). I also thought about how it was insisted that he turned into an owl upon touching the book, and his comment that he was not a “kind man” before – given he seems to come from a world of fairytale ballet (and has strong link to birds, he captures the ostrich) maybe Von Rothbart from The Swan Lake? The character of Drosselmeyer and the Swan Lake plot had already been mixed in another fairytale-deconstruction work: the Princess Tutu anime. Also there is an insistence upon “winter time” in his “dissolving text”: maybe Snow Queen ties?

# The Magic Mirror was first suspected to be the one used by the Snow Queen – due to the low temperature around it, Zach even asked if it was snowing near the mirror. However it is revealed to be the mirror of the evil queen from Snow-White, answering questions if asked the rhyme (“Mirror, mirror, leaning against a wall”). Very likely created by the dwarves of the kingdom, since Tapestry is known outside of its fine crafting to be a place of magical items created through “spell-craft” and “enchantments” by dwarves. Also interestingly, the Mirror seems to encourage people to ambition (“do you want to be the wisest, richest, fairest in the land?”) and wants to be returned to “her”. Given it asked Pinocchio, it seems the Mirror wants to return to the “evil queen” (absorbed/covered by the Stepmother).

# Cinderella. Her story went wrong when she returned to investigate what her Stepmother did to her step-sisters and what happened to her. Fairy Godmother tried to force her to return to the castle and her prince and ignore all that. She stabbed her with a broken heel of her glass slipper, turned glass spear ; now is a warrior dressed in a “crystalline glass armor” and part of the “Sisters”. Her backstory is basically Disney’s plotline (the Fairy Godmother even uses the Disney Godmother magical line) but with elements of the Grimm version added (the sisters cutting off toe and heel).

# The Stepmother started out as Cinderella’s stepmother before… becoming all wrong. As we will learn later she became the “Stepmother” archetype, but so far all we know is that she used to be Cinderella’s human stepmother, did some foul magic by devouring her daughters (ogress motif), and then became this otherworldly spirit serving as Pinocchio’s stepmother. Plus, has ties (yet unknown) to Snow-White’s witch-queen of a stepmom. (silhouette in the door to check), and of course when Pinocchio uses her magic she manifests as a puppet-master using him as a puppet to enact her revenge against Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother (episode 3).

OTHER NOTES

# The list of threats for the Time of Shadows is given as “giants, witches, wizards, and creatures of the sea”. We meet all of them except for the wizards. Maybe it was something up Herr Drosselmeyer’s plotline?

# Time of Shadows is a cosmic/metaphorical storm AND a literal set of storms that cause bad weather everything (the pouring rains causing flooding in Pottingham is described by episode 1). Got huge King Lear vibes from this – especially since King Lear is THE fairytale-play of Shakespeare.

# The book is clearly about restoring the Neverafter into its peaceful, happy, “regular” state from before the Time of Shadows, however it is shown to work differently for the different types of stories it is confronted with. The book “activates” itself by nursery rhyme-characters (creates sounds as Old King Cole speaks, makes Timothy tingle upon hearing about the Old Woman who lived in a shoe) and ultimately absorbs them ; with fairy tales-characters it seems to mostly show them *where* their story got broken (Rosamund sees her flickering prince, as her prince did not come ; Pinocchio sees the island of toys which is a big part of the adventure ; Ylfa sees the wolf in the wood which is also the point of her story switching). With nursery rhyme characters it just restores them back to their original state and sends them back to a nursery rhyme world (makes sense as we learn later how the nursery rhyme universe was forced into the Neverafter) ; but it needs in the fairytale side of things an “early part of the world that was broken off” in the shape of specific items that it “hungers” for. All items reflecting famous stories, and tied to the Princesses, but warped in the Time of Shadows. Two are confirmed: Cinderella’s glass slipper, turned into a broken shard of glass then glass spear ; and Elodie’s golden ball, turned into golden mace in the times of war.

# Greenleigh has “wise women” in charge of medicine, tonic and other products of the sort. Grimm fairytale nod.

# Here “Carabas” was the title of the ogre-lord before Pib can in and made Stephan a Marquis.

# Gerard and Rosamund’s families are closely related: just a joke, but they are still cousins “three different times”.

# Trollsons are a thing in this world, a name for descendants of trolls (pun on “son”, as the Nordic suffix).

# Lord Bandlebridge’s comment, while a classist statement, confirms that witches, fairies and ogres have an habit of disguising themselves as beggars.

# We never get to know who the “young teenage girl” of the caravans was.

# We’ll see if the whole witch system in the Neverafter is clarified. Because we have your usual, random, human witch living in their tiny corner of the world and performing humble magic (Timothy Goose), and we know that later there are big, evil, powerful witches of multiversal scope. So… I’ll keep this for later episodes.

# Has Drosselmeyer’s giant rabbit’s name any signification? Eidelgrin? Probably not…

[mindibindi]

Was it Perfect? No. Was it Joyous? Yes.

Okay, I did a bunch of shitposting yesterday but now it's time to collect some coherent thoughts on what I liked and didn't about "The Giggle", the Doctors' bi-generation and RTD's HEA.

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Donna: I would’ve liked Donna to have a little more to do in the final ep. She just worked out the arpeggio thing and followed the Doctor round trying to have earnest conversations with him. When she was sat with the Doctor and the Toymaker, I kept thinking she was gonna insert herself into the game and insist she be dealt in too. Instead, it became another case of supernatural male genius vs supernatural male genius. Maybe this is me being greedy though. Because the last ep was ALL DT and CT and the whole anniversary season has been very focused on Donna and the Doctor. They had to make room somewhere for a fabulous villain (which he was), a new Doctor (also fab) and the UNIT ensemble (fab-est of all), so I guess that meant a little less Donna.

Donna did have some great moments, including annihilating those creepy puppets (which made me lol), meeting Mel and refusing to let the Doctor die alone. I do think Donna should’ve been the one to lust after 15 (much like she did when meeting Captain Jack), but maybe this older, settled version of Donna is less thirsty. As for UNIT, no doubt she will be fired regularly but then promptly rehired because she’s so indispensable (and beloved). Best of all, I love the idea of her, Shirley, Mel and Kate going out for post-work drinks while Donna’s two husbands wait at home, tapping their watches and wondering where their ginger chatterbox has gotten to.

Male Parthenogenesis: Now, RTD knows his DW lore far better than I do and apparently there is some precedent for this. But I still say the metacrisis from ep 1 could have been used to better effect in this episode, with Donna essentially healing the Doctor with her excess regeneration energy and Rose creating the new Doctor with her share of the metacrisis/regeneration energy. Because, modern understandings of gender and deep-dive fan knowledge aside, Doctor Who pretty much revolves around the idea of male parthenogenesis, man birthing man, passing on history, tradition, power, experience and greatness. Socioculturally, asexuality is fairly unfamiliar to us, but we are all indoctrinated with patriarchal, heteronormative narratives from birth. And historically, men have expressed their fear and envy of the power and potential of women/pregnant people by attempting to steal it for themselves, control creation myths and birth male gods and monsters. All the while, they completely disavowed (even denigrated) the role women/pregnant people have played in birthing this world. Through the lens of heteronormativity, regeneration offers men and boys eternal power and godlike creativity. So yeah, I would’ve liked a grown woman/mother and a trans girl just coming into her power as a woman to get a little of that regeneration action that usually belongs to the boys (with the exception of 13). Not because women and birth parents are defined by this biological function but because the male urge to own and control birth, creation and reproduction still has very real-world impacts for girls, women, enbys and trans people.  

Bi-generation: So. The big question is: Does bi-generation diffuse the power and pathos of THE Doctor? Yes. Does it follow that this is a bad thing? No. Not necessarily, not in my mind. I am not a fan of showrunners rewriting known history for shock value or fan service, but I’m not sure this is either. I understand the argument that there is power and meaning in the idea of death and rebirth, letting go and moving on, changing and learning with experience. But for all of that to be owned and embodied by one usually male/male presenting person and played by a popular, powerful cis-het male actor is a problem embedded in this show from the get. NuWho has consistently made an effort to alleviate the inherent power imbalance built into the format, distributing the incredible power of the Doctor amongst a community of extra/ordinary human beings. Some showrunners have been able to do this better than others. That said, we’ve also had a good long stint of the Doctor being a singular, tortured genius who no one quite understands, no one can ever really equal. Whatever gifts companions and their families bring, the Doctor will always be bigger, older, wiser, eternal. But, through the magic of bi-generation, his power can be shared, his centrality dispersed, his reach limited, his experience idiosyncratic, and his knowledge discrete.

Over the years, the Doctor has accrued a lot of trauma and tragedy and suffering and longing, all by virtue of this incredible power. This burden was never been more wetly portrayed than by DT so it’s fitting that he be the one to release both the power and the burden of the sad, wet, lonely Timelord by SHARING IT, by becoming plural rather than singular. It may not feel satisfying, partially because it feels unfamiliar. The trope of the lone tortured genius is recognisable and relatable. We know it well, from so many narratives. Personally, I can’t imagine Ncuti Gatwa as a lone tortured genius. I want him to have a new joyous start. And hey, if you miss the tortured Doctor then 15 has all of time and space in which to once again start accruing trauma and tragedy. But I think it’s good, and time, for 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 and 14 to drop their load and come down to earth. No longer a god, an avenging angel, an objective overseer, but essentially, a human being. Which is kinda what he/she/they wanted to be all along. This IS the death of one version of this show, one version of this character, but it isn’t being offered without regeneration and rebirth right there on the horizon.                   

Happily Ever After: RTD is not like other showrunners. He’s a bold and marvellous beast who isn’t afraid to change things up, especially when they’re not working or have outlived their usefulness. We’re often told that happy endings are trite, trivial, insignificant, unrealistic. Drama, tragedy, sorrow and suffering: that’s where all the weight and meaning of life lies. And look, RTD can write tragedy and pathos as well if not better than the best of them. He could have given us “Journey’s End” or “The End of Time” redux. He could have given twisted and complicated and harrowing. He chose not to. Because, unlike SO MANY SHOWRUNNERS, RTD knows when to write an ending, when to resolve tension, when to heal wounds. It’s common practice, especially in the American television industry, to just…never end, never resolve, never stop, never state, never land. To just flog a creative horse until it drops dead. (At least, this was the television I grew up with; streaming services have altered this model somewhat.)

Doctor Who is exactly the kind of intellectual property that could’ve (and could still under Disney) fall victim to the capitalistic urge for moremoremoremoremoremoremore, despite the fact that such endlessness eventually exhausts creativity and, with it, audience interest. A capitalist never wants the revenue stream to end. But a real writer, a true creator is bold enough to know where to place a well-timed full-stop. In my opinion, RTD read the room and wrote an ending. An ending that the show and the world needed. An ending that shared power. An ending that celebrated ordinary humanity. An ending that healed trauma and prioritised love. An ending that still allows for new life, new potential, new discoveries, new structures, new understandings, and new joy. All of that is totally on-brand for RTD. Those themes of multiplicity, humanity, healing, love and possibility pervade the 60th anniversary specials from beginning to end. They were built into the fabric of each episode. And they’re also the very essence of Doctor Who.     

[cherryishl]

human!hollyleaf in the sims 2 yall! + my headcanons about her (pls read)

holly herrera-fire is 17, loves her brothers more than anything, she is daddy's daughter and has some sort of mommy issues since she's never felt close with squirrel who was like an 'absent' mother and had more interest in partying, drinking wine and shocking the society with her outfits or a new boobjob. squirrel herrera-fire was 'absent' for first 5-10 years of holly, jay & lion's lives and then she remembered she has kids and tried to play a 'good mommy' job but holly still doesn't feel like they're actual mother & daughter. more like friends because of the way squirrel behaves and tries to stay younger as she actually is (wearing revealing clothes, clubbing with your own kids and talking about their first sex) and that's some sort of friends holly wouldn't like to have. yeah a paragraph bout mommy issues. holly is also a granddaughter of the president firestar fire (lol sorry i don't have a fantasy) and first lady by husband and lady by blood sandy fire (im gonna write posts bout my headcanons and im gonna explain this one bout sandy's origin too), and her dad bramble herrera-fire is a vice-president and oh ofc the son-in-law for the mr. president. these facts make her cooler than anyone else in her private school. her & her brothers rule that damn school for sure. she feels her power over other students. holly is THAT bitch. let me say 'primadonna' by marina is her signature song for sure. holly wants to go to harvard law school and become a lawyer. this came to her in mind after her brother jay's arrest. she also wanted to become a doctor like her favorite aunt leaf but gave up after failing her chemistry classes and wanted to become a president too (guess i don't have to explain why). her bond with her grandpa is really strong she loves him so much. her favorite cousin is ivy jocelyn, however they're really different and may have some difficulties because of ivy's stealth and awkwardness (alexa play 'the girl so confusing version with lorde' by charli xcx). her style is inspired mainly by blair waldorf from gossip girl, cheryl blossom from riverdale and chanel's 90s couture collections. yeah that's a combo... not gonna lie she was almost a tomboy in her early teen ages because u know she has two brothers they live under the same roof and she was influenced by them too. although she completely changed her whole wardrobe & style after her brother jay was arrested for allegedly killing his cousin flame (that was a WILD story it was in the news for months everybody was shocked). she thought perfect hair & classy feminine outfits would've helped to make her family great again. good job holly and your tweed chanel suits in 100 different colors are cute but oh it didn't really help my dear inspired by my very own human!AU. im going to make some more posts about it. stay tuned! xoxo если вы знаете русский язык, вы можете прочитать фанфик, основанный на этой АУшке, на фикбуке, и подписаться на телеграм канал. там есть все мои хэдканоны на русском, информация о новых главах и всякое такое закулисье. ссылочки не стесняйтесь просить!

[spawnofdeath]

A Frog and a Flower Crown

(The second chapter in the "King Scott and the Codfather" collection)

Read on AO3

In which a demon offers two gifts to a king. One is refused, and one is accepted.

Used to the snow-capped mountains as he was, the swamp seemed intensely warm, indeed sweltering, the air almost physically heavy, thick with moisture and the buzzing of insects. Still, it was a decent place. Or at least an empty one. Hopefully the others wouldn't think to look for him here right away.

Scott crouched on the half solid spot of earth he'd found, trying not to get too much mud onto his robes, and gazed into a pool of murky water.

How deep was it? He found it hard to tell what might have been the bottom of it from what was simply floating particles, and so it could just be a puddle, or it could go down deeper than he'd be able to dive. Not that he had any mind to dive in it. Who knew what lurked in there?

Well. He could see one creature in the muddy brown.

The fish didn't actually look very out of place, the red and green of its scales almost blending into its surroundings. It didn't belong though. With a good guess as to who ruled over this place, Scott was pretty sure that salmon weren't wanted here.

"How in the world did you get into the swamp?" he asked the creature. "I don't think you're very well liked around here, you know."

As if on cue, a shadow became visible within the pond, and as it rose, resolved into a silhouette, one Scott recognised with ease even as the muddy water blurred its outlines. The pool did have to be really quite deep, he realised, because of how far below the shadow had appeared, though it was rising quickly. The salmon had no chance to get away before it was caught, helplessly thrashing, in the Codfather's jaws.

The demon rose out of the pool without any effort, in the manner that Scott by now was used to, still seeming to swim, as though the water and the air were one and the same.

He dropped the salmon into the mud next to Scott, quickly pinning it in place with one hand before its thrashing could carry it back into the water.

"What a pathetic creature", he muttered, and his eyes fixed on Scott. "You wouldn't know how it got here?"

"I don't", Scott replied, "but I'd also been wondering. Don't they swim into the rivers where they were born, something like that? Seems unlikely one would end up in the swamp by accident. I can't well tell of course, but does that pool even have any connection to the ocean? Or to a river, for that matter?"

"It certainly connects to the ocean", the Codfather said, "that's where I just came from."

He was now lying on his stomach in the mud and playing with the struggling salmon seemingly absentmindedly, poking his claws through its fins and into its gills.

"I suppose it could have gotten in here on its own. But I doubt that. Much more likely someone put it here on purpose. Should have to pay that tinkerer another visit, I reckon. He's usually the one leaving the vile things everywhere."

The salmon was most definitely dead by now, or very close, lying still and bleeding from various holes the demon had poked through its skin, and the Codfather shoved the cadaver aside, seemingly bored with it now he could no longer hurt it.

Resting his head on a slightly bloody hand, he turned again to look at Scott.

"But enough of that. What brings you to my home then, little elf?"

"There's a diplomatic discussion taking place right now", Scott began to explain, "in Mythland as being the most neutral of the empires. Every ruler is obligated to be there, but really none of it is currently relevant to Rivendell, and I just didn't see the point in staying.

And I was also just getting a bit overwhelmed. I mean, no offense to the Lost Emperor, he is my best friend's husband, but I cannot listen to him argue with the Mezalean King for half an hour straight and not just about lose my mind. They weren't even finished when I left! They weren't even close to being finished! I really just couldn't stay there, for my own sanity's sake. So I snuck away. And then, well, this is the closest place to Mythland that I thought the others wouldn't look for me immediately. So, hi, I guess? Sorry to intrude into your land."

The Codfather looked at him with a somewhat shocked face.

"And here I thought you'd come because you actually wanted to see me", he said and pressed his free hand to his chest dramatically. "I'm a little hurt, you know, to learn that's not the case."

"I mean, that's not-" Scott blushed, trying to keep his thoughts together and his words from escaping him. "-that's, I didn't mean it like that, I just, I had a hunch this might be your place? But I wasn't sure, and then I wasn't sure you'd want me to visit either, and I didn't exactly have a chance to ask beforehand, and I just thought I should apologise? Like, just in case, you know. It's, it's certainly not that I didn't want to see you."

"Ah, that's all well, I was only messing with you anyways."

The Codfather slapped an unexpectedly cold hand onto Scott's shoulder, making him jump slightly with the surprise of it, which in turn cost him his balance. With a slight yelp he tumbled backwards into the mud.

The demon laughed heartily. Had he done that on purpose?

"I was trying to stay clean", Scott muttered, which only made the Codfather laugh louder.

"You're in a swamp, Scott", he said. "You're in a swamp, and you expected to stay clean? That's not how swamps work. You should be glad you didn't step into a concealed puddle yet and sink into the mud up to your waist, then have to struggle to get out again. That's how swamps work."

"Yeah, I guess", Scott sighed, resigning himself to the dampness seeping into his robes as he sat back up, and returned to gazing into the water where he'd first spotted the salmon.

There was again some movement, this time in the mud at the edge of the pool, and like an arrow from a bow string the Codfather's arm shot out to snatch whatever had been hiding there.

"Frog?" he asked, and held his hand out towards Scott.

Scott stared at the creature caught in the Codfather's grasp, gutted by claws but still twitching, as its blood dripped down the demon's wrist.

"You want it or not?" the Codfather asked. "Should try it. 's good. Nice big one too."

Right. He was expecting him to eat it. Okay.

"I'm not sure my stomach is very well adapted to eating raw frogs", Scott said, a half-true excuse that he hoped wouldn't make his aversion to the slimy thing too obvious.

"Suit yourself", the demon said with a shrug, and began to lick the blood off his arm.

His tongue was long and pointy, and looked rough like that of a cat. Was that what a cod's tongue looked like? Scott hadn't really seen many fish heads before, much less ever tried to look into their mouths. What kind of tongues did they have, anyways?

He elected not to ask, as he watched the Codfather wrench a frog leg from it's socket with a snap and begin to gnaw on it with sharp teeth.

It wasn't long before the bone was clean of any meat, and the demon paused, put the bone and the rest of the frog aside, and once more turned to look at Scott, rather thoughtfully this time.

"I do have something else for you", he said. "Something that I hope you won't refuse."

"Well, what is it?" Scott asked. "As long as it's not something that'll make me ill..."

"It's not", the Codfather said. "Wait here."

He got up and jumped back into the pond. Scott watched the water ripple as he disappeared below the surface. There was a connection to the ocean from that pool, he'd said. Were there other ways to different places, too? Was there a whole network of underground waterways below the surface of the swamp? He could very easily imagine it.

He watched and waited for a few minutes for the Codfather's return, and indeed was so focused on the pond that he near jumped out of his skin when suddenly he heard the demon's voice behind him.

"Don't turn around", he said. "Don't look yet."

Scott obliged and wondered what it was the other had for him.

"You aren't wearing your crown", the Codfather said, which seemed entirely unrelated to just about anything Scott had been expecting. "What's a king without a crown?"

"We don't wear crowns or similar to the meetings", Scott explained. "Show of respect and such, that noone thinks themselves above any of the others, you know, that sort of careful politeness. And in any case, I don't wear my crown every day and everywhere. I wasn't wearing it when first we met either, remember? It's more just for special occasions."

"This one isn't", the Codfather said, and Scott felt something strangely soft and dripping being placed upon his head. "I want you to wear this one always."

Scott reached up to touch whatever he'd been given, as the Codfather sat down beside him and placed an arm around his shoulder.

"Look", he said.

At a wave of the demon's hand, the water of the pond cleared up, particles moving aside without causing the slightest ripple, and the surface became smooth and shiny as a mirror.

When Scott saw what he was now wearing, he had to admit he hadn't expected it to be a flower crown. It was woven from water lily blossoms, and some other bits of swamp plants. There was a slight sheen to it, like it was enchanted in some way. Perhaps to keep it from wilting, Scott thought.

"It's beautiful", he said.

"It suits you", the Codfather replied, and then he laughed again. "Little flower elf. Like you'd belong into the Overgrown, and not the mountains."

"We actually used to live in a flower forest for a while", Scott told him, "my people and I, before we came into the mountains and founded Rivendell. I liked it there. It was very pretty. Reminded me of something, although for the life of me I couldn't have said what. But it didn't last. None of our settlements before Rivendell did. We never did figure out why."

"Sometimes you're just meant to be in one place and not another", the Codfather said. "Nothing really to it that's possible to understand. Just forces of life pulling you this way and that, like a jellyfish swept along in the current. And think of this, your current pulled you to me."

"That it did", Scott said and smiled.

It was getting a bit darker now, and he noticed fire flies starting to appear between the reeds. One of them landed on his arm and sat there, blinking slowly. He smiled at that, too.

"You'd best head home now", the Codfather said after they'd been watching the dancing lights for a while. "Before the others do come looking for you here. I'd rather not be found today."

"Yes, I should go, shouldn't I?" Scott suppressed a yawn. "The others will be worried."

Well. Xornoth would be worried. Sausage would be, and probably Pearl. Joey, maybe, too, or maybe not. Most of the others, he didn't actually know that well. He could imagine some of them might rather be annoyed than worried at his disappearance.

"Promise you'll wear your new crown", the Codfather said. "Every day and everywhere, not just on special occasions."

"And at night?" Scott asked. "I might crush it if I wear it to bed."

"You won't", the demon replied. "I can promise you that. I promise it won't get crushed, or damaged any other way. I made sure of that. It'll look ever as beautiful on you as it does now. Just wear it. For me."

"I'll wear it for you, then", Scott promised. "I'll wear it forever and always."

The Codfather gave him a wide, sharp-toothed smile.

"Come visit me again, my little flower elf. And soon. It does get lonely here."

[wayward-river]

Dancing on Broken Glass

Part 2 of ?

Pairings : past Bradley Bradshaw x reader possible Jake (Hangman)x Reader

Summary: In this heart-wrenching story, a woman confronts the devastating reality of losing her husband. She visits his grave on the anniversary of his death and pours out her soul to him, wishing he was still there with her. But just as she starts to find some solace, Hangman, who had a rocky relationship with her late husband, shows up and disrupts her moment of grief. Tension rises as they exchange words, and Hangman apologizes for his past behavior. But can apologies heal the pain of loss? As Hangman leaves, he invites her to join him tomorrow, but the woman is left feeling conflicted about his role in her life. Will she find the strength to move on from her husband's death, or will she be haunted by his memory forever?

AN: Okay here is part two! Again huge shout out to @bradshawsweetheart for all the help! All errors are mine, I do not own any characters. Please be kind and enjoy!!

Warnings : Angst, language, grief, death

You stood in front of the Hard Deck having a staring contest with the doors, should you go in? Did you even want to?

After so long of back and forth you settled for sitting outside of the Hard Deck, close enough to hear the music of the jukebox and the laughter filling the small place that once felt like a second home, but far enough for the flood of memories to stay at bay. Staring out into the ocean you sighed.

“I know you probably think I should be inside and not out here talking to you, but I can’t walk in and not search for you. I can’t listen to the jukebox play without knowing that it should be unplugged and the piano should be played with people surrounding it, surrounding you. I can’t stand this town anymore because you aren’t here… I can’t leave this town either because I feel you here. It’s the only place I do feel you and I won’t let that go.”

You closed your eyes listening to the crashing of the waves and the slight murmurs of sounds coming through when the doors of the Hard Deck opened. You wanted a sign, something, anything that he was still around you, that he was listening, that he hated this just as much as you did.

You stayed like that until you sensed a presence next to you.

“You made it”

Hangman again? Really Roo.

You rolled your eyes. “I know you aren’t the brightest but I didn’t exactly make it to the Hard Deck.” Your response seemed to come off as an invitation as Hangman settled in the sand next to you.

“I mean that is the Hard Deck behind you so I would say you did.”

You rolled your eyes. “I know you promised but it’s not like you have to see it through, I don’t need anyone’s help, I’m doing just fine on my own.”

You heard his scoff after the lies easily slipped past your lips. “What? Don’t think I am? Gonna tell the grieving widow she’s wrong?”

“I’m not going to walk on eggshells around you like everyone else is in this town. I tried that, but it clearly didn't work, so I’m trying a new method. You aren’t fine and you haven’t been and no one would expect you to be. You lost your person” he paused seeming to think before he spoke for once “I don’t believe in that crap or I guess I didn’t until I say you two together, he was your world Y/N, you are going to feel that piece that has been ripped out of you for the rest of your life, but you can’t let it swallow you.”

You looked over finally, the unshed tears collecting in your eyes. “You know sometimes…” you took a deep breath, your voice cracking “sometimes in the morning I forget and I expect to feel his warmth, or hear the shower going, or him singing some song I’ll have stuck in my head for the day while he makes us breakfast…but then, then it all comes crashing back into me at full speed so I don't think I can prevent it from swallowing me whole.”

You looked back out at the waves crashing and the sun setting “Thanks for the invite Hangman but I’m going home”

“I’m swinging by the house tomorrow.” He responds, a fact, he’s letting you know it’s happening. You sigh as you walk away from him leaving him on the beach in front of the Hard Deck.

“Can’t promise I’ll answer but go for it”

You awoke the same way you did every day for the past year, alone. However something had felt different. You slowly threw the covers off of you, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you swore you could hear faint music coming from the kitchen.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Abbey Grange pt 2

So, last time we had a woman who claimed to have been assaulted by burglars who then murdered her abusive husband and her stoic and devoted maid.

I think that she killed him and used the burglars, who had apparently been in the newspaper, as convenient scapegoats, but I also think that was a good move on her part, so I'm fingers crossed that she gets away with it.

And Holmes spotted something weird with the glasses the 'burglars' had been drinking out of, then immediately dismissed it and left Stanley Hopkins, who seems to work purely on cases where the victim is an old and violent man who nobody likes, to hunt down the burglars.

During our return journey I could see by Holmes's face that he was much puzzled by something which he had observed.

I may have been wrong about Holmes realising it was the lady of the house. This does seem at odds with that.

"...on my life, Watson, I simply can't leave that case in this condition. Every instinct that I possess cries out against it. It's wrong—it's all wrong—I'll swear that it's wrong. And yet the lady's story was complete, the maid's corroboration was sufficient, the detail was fairly exact."

Right, so no, he hadn't figured it out. The wine glasses do still vex him.

"...dismiss from your mind the idea that anything which the maid or her mistress may have said must necessarily be true."

That is, indeed, how you should approach every witness statement to every crime ever. Like, even if they're not lying, they might just be confused. The woman had a blow to the head (apparently) that discombobulates a person.

"Some account of them and of their appearance was in the papers, and would naturally occur to anyone who wished to invent a story in which imaginary robbers should play a part."

Precisely.

And my theory with the glasses is that she and her husband were having a drink. Or just her husband was having a drink. And she had to add a third glass to corroborate her story and that didn't match or hadn't been drunk out of. Maybe she drugged him so she could kill him, but that doesn't really fit with the way the body was found.

"The most unusual thing of all, as it seems to me, is that the lady should be tied to the chair.”

Really, Watson? Why?

I mean... that seems fairly self-explanatory to me. Is it just because you could never consider tying a lady to a chair, in which case, I guess we know more about your sex life than we did, but really?

Watson is baffling me here.

“Exactly; but there was bees-wing only in one glass. You must have noticed that fact. What does that suggest to your mind?”

wtf is beeswing?

beeswing. / (ˈbiːzˌwɪŋ) / noun. a light filmy crust of tartar that forms in port and some other wines after long keeping in the bottle.

(from dictionary.com)

Okay. I remember being told off for shaking a port bottle as a kid, so I guess that was what I was being told off about.

“That only two glasses were used, and that the dregs of both were poured into a third glass, so as to give the false impression that three people had been here. In that way all the bees-wing would be in the last glass, would it not?"

Three things:

That's what I said.

Would none of the beeswing stick to the glasses it came from?

Why not just pour some more from the wine bottle? It has been specified that it wasn't empty.

Sherlock Holmes, finding that Stanley Hopkins had gone off to report to head-quarters, took possession of the dining-room, locked the door upon the inside, and devoted himself for two hours to one of those minute and laborious investigations which formed the solid basis on which his brilliant edifices of deduction were reared.

He was crawling around on the floor like a worm again, wasn't he?

Then, to my astonishment, Holmes climbed up on to the massive mantelpiece.

Crawling and climbing. It's like a crime scene adventure playground. He must be having so much enrichment today.

“We have got our case—one of the most remarkable in our collection. But, dear me, how slow-witted I have been, and how nearly I have committed the blunder of my lifetime!"

Or maybe you could just... let her get away with it?

"Strong as a lion—witness the blow that bent that poker. Six foot three in height, active as a squirrel, dexterous with his fingers; finally, remarkably quick-witted, for this whole ingenious story is of his concoction."

Was the lady's height specified? I feel like if she was 6'3" someone would have mentioned it.

So she got a friend to come and help her kill her husband? Good for him, too, I guess.

THough she was sitting down through the whole interview, so maybe she is 6'3" and it's just that no one noticed because she was sitting down.

“Yes, sir, it is true that he threw the decanter at me. I heard him call my mistress a name, and I told him that he would not dare to speak so if her brother had been there."

Ah, there we are. The missing piece is a brother. That makes sense.

“I have told you all I know.” Holmes took his hat and shrugged his shoulders. “I am sorry,” he said, and without another word we left the room and the house.

Ah, I think that, right there... was the point of no return. If you'd just told him, he probably wouldn't have done anything about it.

But now he's gonna do something about it.

The first officer, Mr. Jack Croker, had been made a captain and was to take charge of their new ship, the Bass Rock, sailing in two days' time from Southampton.

Not the brother? A friend from the ship? Modern travel times have made me forget that the time since the marriage probably isn't long enough for a message to get to Australia, let alone for her brother to receive one then get on a boat and come to the UK.

Unless he was already following her before that.

“No, I couldn't do it, Watson,” said he, as we re-entered our room. “Once that warrant was made out nothing on earth would save him. Once or twice in my career I feel that I have done more real harm by my discovery of the criminal than ever he had done by his crime."

Aw, Holmes, you're a big teddy bear really.

“I am very glad if I have helped you.” “But you haven't helped me. You have made the affair far more difficult."

Yeah, he knows.

"The Randall gang were arrested in New York this morning.” “Dear me, Hopkins! That is certainly rather against your theory that they committed a murder in Kent last night.”

This entire conversation is gold.

“The time has come. You will now be present at the last scene of a remarkable little drama.”

Cliffhanger time.

[oh-shtars]

You said you loved to get asks about your AU

Weeeeell I wanted to know, what are your plans for Amaya? What’s her deal? Her backstory? Her personality? Tell us about the queen 👀

I’ll be honest here Anny, I have NOT done her redesign yet and she’s a character I’m so frustrated with right now because I keep getting stuck on creating her- jdksjdjsks

But I have worked out her backstory! It’s just her role in the actual RFTS!storyline that’s bothering me 😭😭

Character Plans:

See, just as I’ve made Magnifico a parallel of Star, I’ve made Amaya a parallel to Asha. Whereas RFTS!Asha keeps her dreams and desires to herself because she’s insecure and afraid to take charge, Amaya is also just as highly ambitious but headstrong and ruthless.

I have Asha to represent how “To achieve great things and for people to believe in your lead, you need to be the person to believe in your capabilities first. To be brave enough to take a leap of faith.” Amaya is the opposite. She has her dreams and desires, but she’s willing to do whatever it takes to get her way. Even if she needs to crack a few eggs to get it. I wanted her to represent how “Pursuing your dreams is great, but at the expense of other people and dragging them down to get there, is a very shtty thing to do.”

Amaya has a passion for discovering and desires to learn everything there is to the world of magic around her. I did say she was just an eviler version of Zarina, didn’t I?

The thing is though, she is willing to sacrifice certain animals and “poor unfortunate souls” as fuel for her experiments. So umm, yeah. I wonder what happens to the people kept in the castle’s dungeon-

She believes the reason that most of the magic in the world is unknown and undiscovered is because people are holding themselves back because of “sympathy and feelings.” Amaya didn’t like that one bit, so her main hobby and goal is to keep digging out for more. Always hungry for more.

Bonus Facts:

- Unlike Magnifico, whose trauma has prevented him from effectively learning magic, Amaya is actually competent with magic usage without the use of any certain artefact. No staff or anything.

- She’s skilled at disguises and making up fake stories or lies on the spot that are easy to believe. (As a reference to previous Disney villains who used this tactic)

- Similar to Asha who has a sketchbook around with her, Amaya keeps a notebook that she keeps her notes in. (I guess this can be the substitute for the ‘forbidden book’ in the canon movie. lol)

- Amaya has a pet sphinx cat whom I decided to call ‘Espino’. It means ‘thorn’ in Spanish.

- While everyone else is just a tool for her to use, she does feel genuine love and concern for her husband when he does spiral into a PTSD episode. She’s had no one else in her life for a while now and Mag was the only one who ever understood her, so she’s willing to aid him whenever she can.

- She likes horse-back riding in the woods and does so often to relax or collect ingredients for her experiments

- She hates the idea of anyone or anything holding her back from what she believes is her true potential.

- Amaya holds the calculative and strategic skills in her ‘brains and the brawn’ duo with Mag. Mag is more on delivery and force if necessary. She’s calmer and aids Mag whenever he’s stressed or having temper issues.

- She’s also quite a fan of novels and poetry and likes the sound of poetic and fitting endings. It’s the reason why she’s being so nice towards Asha because she sees her as a fun toy to play around with. Especially when it comes to considering the king and queen’s strong opinion about Tomás.

(Tomás used to be hers and Mag’s assistant before he was tragically killed died after strongly holding beliefs that oppose their rule. It’s quite an entertaining irony if they were to have Tomás’ own daughter follow in his footsteps. One that he obviously would’ve hated to see if he was still alive.

Magnifico disliked the idea of having an inquisitive annoying girl around his work. Like I said in my previous drawing, he finds Asha ‘unbearable.’ But oh well, anything for the wifey. Happy wife. Happy life.)

Backstory:

Amaya grew up a little typical girl in Rosas with big dreams of mastering and getting to know everything regarding alchemy and magic. It’s a whole world that’s surrounded by it and who knows how much is left undiscovered?

The unfortunate thing is that her family was against this passion of hers since, well, not everyone thinks magic is a necessary skill worth your time when you can do it by yourself the traditional way. While her parents didn’t mind how King Oliver and previous other rulers have always provided an easier living for their people with magic, they want to keep the family tradition of achieving things by themselves magic-free. It’s how their ancestors established their livelihood as farmers after all.

Rosas had the best reputation of being the most inclusive and welcoming kingdom, so people holding these magic-free beliefs still have their boundaries respected and allowed to refuse magical help if they wish.

But Amaya? Amaya didn’t want to follow her parents’ footsteps. She wants to pursue her own dream.

…..

Mag and Amaya’s love story is basically Royalty x Commoner.

They met when Mag was 15 and she was 14 and were best friends ever since. Back then in the past, when there wasn’t as much worries and things were a little more simpler. But Amaya’s parents progressively start discouraging her to interact with Mag as they believe his role as prince and the future sorcerer king of Rosas is influencing their daughter to take up magic too.

Until one day, Magnifico never heard from her again. And then years later as young adults, they found each other again in the woods, where Amaya had fled away from her home to secretly study magic on her own there. They bonded over feeling so pressured to give up on their initial desires just because their parents and life decided to be unjust and cruel to them.

“Like, don’t you ever just wish you could hold the world and shake it soo hard because you’re so mad? OMGG BESTIE, SAAME.”

👆That was the look Amaya gave him when Magnifico asked if she ever felt “helpless and trapped,” like he did. It was at that moment that Magnifico fell down a flight of stairs and head over heels for this woman.

Sooo, childhood friends, to losing each other for a bit, to finding each other again, and then to romance.

(Wait- wdym they’re like Simba and Nala too? Pfft-)

The thing is though, Amaya is a wanted outlaw. (Or criminal? Idk the right word. Do they mean the same thing?).

Her identity is not exactly known. The guards are aware that there’s someone stealing ingredients and breaking Rosas’ rules and safety regulations about studying magic. The kingdom bans the production or study of any magic that could actively harm or terribly curse animals and humans. Remember when I said Amaya couldn’t give a single flying sht about that? She just managed to keep her real name clean because of her skills in disguises.

Amaya’s state and Magnifico potentially withholding information lead to another father-and-son argument with King Oliver again.

But just to sum it up before this gets too long, Magnifico ended up taking his role as the next king with Amaya by his side. Upon obtaining his magic staff and finding the ability to collect wishes, he banned the usage of magic with the exception of him and his wife ofc. Under the excuse it’s for Rosas’ greater good and safety. In the castle, Amaya is finally given the freedom to explore the unknown. Something about “I’ll give the whole kingdom to you if you asked for it” and “I promise we’ll both get that world we both deserved.”

Which would be a sweet kind of thing if it were another couple in another innocent context…. :)

Idk, Anny. Might change things up a bit but let me know what you think. Thanks so much for the asks btw!! 💖