#tears to tiara ii

[maidoftheday]

Today's Maid of the Day: Daphnis from Tears to Tiara II

[aestheticallypleasinganimeboys]

Saul - Tears to Tiara II: Heir of the Overlord

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

To Love and To Cherish (II)

Part 10 of my Accidentally on Purpose Series!

Warnings: CNC, oral (f), knife play (he fucks her with the hilt of his knife), bondage, threats, chasing, creepy phonecalls, mild mirror sex, somnophilia, anxiety, fear, angst, cliffhanger.

A/N: Please keep in mind that though this is dark play, everything has been discussed and even practised in advance and is fully consensual.

Hehe

@icannotbetrustedalone 😘

A late lunch is brought to your door after you wake up. You have no idea how Sam knew you were awake, perhaps she'd timed your jet lag that well.

She tells you to enjoy, that her team will be here around dusk to get you dressed for your date.

You smile at that word, knowing that she had no real clue what your husband was really up to.

Later in the day, there’s a knock on your door.

You open it to Sam, with her binder, looking eager.

“Are you ready?” She asks with a smile.

When you nod and open the door wider, she turns her head and nods too, and you blink in surprise when four other women follow her into your room with a lot of different things in hand.

You spot a garment bag, and a makeup kit, another bag has a hair curler sticking out.

They introduce themselves, their specialties are in hairstyles, makeup and nails.

You're out of your depth and you say so, glancing over at Sam for some kind of help.

“Don't worry, we already know what to do based off your preferences.” She explains, “You just have to sit back and enjoy being pampered.”

You guess you could try.

When they're done, you're surprised to see so much of yourself there.

There's a lovely little tiara on your head, your hair in a delicate updo with strands framing your face. The dress- is beyond beautiful, white shimmering fabric, an off shoulder design that makes you feel like a princess.

Your fingers and toes are freshly done in a dark red like you'd requested, so that they can match the red on your lips.

There's a small heel on your silver shoes- safe to run in while still being pretty.

“You guys are amazing.” You say in wonder as you fully assess yourself.

They laugh, happy that you're satisfied.

Sam presents one final thing to you, the one odd thing you'd asked for that wasn't in your binder.

You grin at her, ducking into the ensuite bathroom and tugging the garter out of the box, sliding it on. 

There's a small knife attached to it, and you make sure it's concealed, and easily reachable through the slit in your dress before you step out again.

When they’re finished with some last minute makeup retouches, Sam smiles proudly, and wishes you a very good night, letting you know that they’ll all be leaving you soon, here alone with your husband. 

You can’t help the excited pulse your nether regions give at the reminder, dressed pristinely from head to toe, all for Billy to tear off.

You grin at Sam, walking the small group of women to the door, listening quietly to their plans for the night, encouraging and enjoying their banter, sending them off with a wave into a car waiting for them.

The heavy wooden door closes with a dull sound that echoes through the castle, emphasising your desolation.

You turn, leaning against the door in your shimmery dress, taking in the quiet silence of the place.

There’s a little bit of fear tingling down your spine, the feeling of being truly alone in such a big place, not really knowing where you are, with no means of escape.

You find that it turns you on.

All dressed up, all for him, and you can’t even really leave, a headiness to the realisation, your fear is an aphrodisiac all on its own.

You bite down on the corner of your lip, smiling, pushing yourself away from the door, and decidedly picking a direction to begin your exploration.

You touch everything you see, trailing your freshly done fingertips over every item, examining the feel, appreciating the textures.

The curtains, the lighting fixtures, you examine all of it, a crown on your head that makes you almost feel like you own it all.

You get into the fantasy he’s weaved, becoming the role of the princess he’s cast you in.

You find the throne room first, a flourish of plum and golds, a large red carpet leading to the thrones in question- two- sitting side by side, beckoning you closer. 

You squint, looking up at the massive chandelier that sits in the middle of the room, with little pieces of glass that if cleaned properly, would probably reflect little shards of light. 

You pick the chair on the right, and settle yourself onto it, sighing happily at how comfortable it is, relaxing for a moment, before standing to continue your exploration.

You’re passing the dining room when a phone begins to ring in the distance.

It sends a shiver of fear over you, the dated sound echoing through the halls. You begin searching for it, following the rings of what you assume is an old era phone.

You find the phone on a table at the bottom of the staircase, ruby red, sitting beside a marble statue of a woman, posed with her hand in the air as if to block the light from her eyes.

It keeps ringing until you tentatively pick it up, bringing it to your ear.

“Hello?” You say softly into it.

There’s a voice on the other end, modulated to be unrecognizeable to you, but even that sends a shiver of excitement through you.

“Princess.” The voice says calmly.

You swallow.

“Who is this?”

The voice is deep, each grovel is a tremor in your body.

“I’m just a nightmare, sweetheart. I hope you’re ready for me.”

You shudder, shaking your head.

“Ready for what?”

He doesn’t answer your question.

“You look gorgeous. Prettier than I expected. It’s making me… want.”

You stiffen, taking a breath and looking around, searching the shadows for some sign of a man, lurking in the darkness.

“You can see me?” You ask in a soft whisper, laying the fear on thickly.

“Of course, princess. I’ll be inside soon, we’ll get a nice, long introduction to each other.”

You gasp in surprise, dropping the phone and moving quickly to the doors you passed during your exploration, making sure that they’re locked.

Your hand is on the door separating the kitchen from the gardens- when the lights go out.

You hear your own breath of surprise, your heart pattering in your chest, real fear being awakened inside of you when you realise that this is actually happening.

Everything is still, you’re afraid to move, the darkness becoming honey thick all around you.

Eventually, being still is too much, and you have to force your body to break the stillness around you.

There’s barely a sliver of light, the moon, casting pale streams through the windows. Instinct tells you to stay where you can see, your body backed against the window, eyes peering into the darkness as if it’s alive and coming for you.

You glance down when something shimmery catches your eye, gasping, you realise that the moonlight makes you a bigger target, your dress reflecting its beams in every direction.

It leaves you no choice but to step into the darkness.

You wonder where he is, if hands will just reach out and grab you at any given moment.

It makes your stomach tight, that what you’ve been yearning for is almost within reach.

“Hello?” You call out shyly, voice shaking just a little. You walk softly out of the kitchen, one hand against the wall to guide you, unsure of exactly where you’re going.

Suddenly, a chill runs over the back of your neck, like a soft breath from someone standing just behind you. You turn, waving your hand into the darkness, and finding nothing but air.

You feel so much like prey in that moment, searching for a predator with hunting skills beyond your comprehension.

You’re passing the dining room when your heart freezes in your chest. In the corner of your eye, you can see the silhouette of a dark figure, standing in the moonlit window.

Your breath halts in your throat, turning to face him, the swishing of your dress is louder in your ears.

The mask is- terrifying- white, with the appearance of fractured glass across it, some pieces missing over the cheek area, his real face peeking through.

He raises a hand, and presses a gloved finger to the mouth of the mask.

You turn, and run.

Fuck, this was it, it was really happening. He was here, and he was going to do all the things he promised he would, all the things you’d practised together so that he was sure you were always one hundred percent safe and comfortable.

You’re not very fast, the dress and heels slowing you down

He grabs you at the very moment the lights flick on.

It takes a moment for your eyes to get adjusted, and then you gasp when your back is slammed to a wooden wall behind you, the intricate carvings pressing uncomfortably to your spine.

His hands are on your shoulders, keeping you in place as you look up at him with fear in your eyes.

You finally get a chance to see him fully, all masked up, covered from head to toe in what can only be the most mouth watering look on the planet.

Sure, his suits were divine, but seeing him dressed down like this was a cherry on top of a malevolent cake.

It clings to his skin, the cut of his chest and arms showing through the tight, long- sleeved shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of navy combat pants, and further into boots.

It’s much easier to note where you can see his skin- on his wrists between the sleeve and the glove, his neck, and parts of his face that show through the fractured pieces of his mask.

He’s a work of devastating art, lust incarnate, bringing forth so much delight that you struggle to hide it.

“Please,” you whisper shakily, getting into character, feeling it spark arousal, “Don't hurt me.”

You watch the darkness clouds his eyes, a predator, hidden beneath layers of humanity, finally being set free.

“Oh, princess,” he whispers, leaning in, trailing his gloved thumb over your jaw and cheekbone lovingly, “I am definitely going to hurt you.” 

You gasp at his words, reaching for the weapon strapped to your thigh. It was your turn to give him a surprise.

The dagger is sharp, you made sure of it, wanted it to be real, you wanted to see a genuine look of surprise in his eyes when you finally pressed it to his neck.

Except, he doesn't look surprised at all.

“Leave.” You say, with so much command in your voice that you almost believe you have the power to say something like that to him.

He studies you for a lengthy moment, before he tilts his head back and lets out a deep laugh, and even that, works to seduce you.

His hold is an iron grip on your wrist, and it was a mistake letting him grab you, he’s too strong, and no matter how hard you struggle, you can’t get your hand back.

“This knife is pathetic, princess.” He grabs the hilt, twisting it so that you’re forced to release it or have your wrist twisted too, it clatters loudly in the empty space.

“Is that all you have to fight me off with? No wonder this is so easy.”

You exhale angrily, trying to push him away, your freshly done nails digging into his arms.

He grips your hands, pulling them above your head and pinning them there with one of his.

A soft sound of distress leaves your lips, struggling to get away but your dress is too much of a hindrance, keeping your legs pressed in one place when he moves closer.

“Here, why don’t I show you mine?” He murmurs, reaching with his free hand to pull a significantly larger knife out of his boot.

You gulp, eyeing it wearily as he rubs the handle roughly against your cheek, the hilt is coated in a rubber, with indents to help with grip. He slides it around till it’s pressed to your lips, smearing your lipstick, you angle your head away to avoid it.

“I’m going to fuck you with this,” He promises, leaning in till the mouth of his mask is on your ear,  “Gonna use it to get you ready for my cock.”

“No.” you murmur weakly.

“No?” He teases, “Well why don’t you try stopping me then?” He murmurs, pulling back a little to free you from his hold.

You’re surprised to be free, knowing that it’s just a trick, knowing that he wants to chase you. 

You keep your eyes on his form, watching him observe you as you slowly back away.

“Go on, princess,” He says in such a condescending tone that your knees wobble, “Run away from me.”

When you're far enough away that you know he won't grab you, you turn, pulling your skirts up a little so that you can run.

Heart pounding in your chest you have no idea where you're going or what your plan is beyond running away. You couldn't very well hide in a dress that glimmers when you breathe, you couldn't fight- all you really had in your arsenal was your capacity to get him angrier.

With that in mind, you grab the first heavy thing you can find- the telephone directory- turning and chucking it in his approximate vicinity.

It doesn't slow him down at all, because he grabs your wrist in the next second, pulling you into him.

“No!” You exclaim, swiping your nails across his mask, knocking it askew so that he can't see.

You’re not proud of how hard you stomp his foot next, watching him double over with a low grunt, allowing you to get some distance. 

The phone, you decide, angling your run to get you to the base of the main stairs.

You just make it to the phone- grabbing the glossy handset and raising it to your ear- before he grabs it roughly from you, reaching behind to rip all the important wires out of the back.

You almost can’t do it, wanting to drop to your knees right there and beg him to take you- but you know that deep down you had to see this fantasy fully play out.

He’s angry now, and he shows it by grabbing the entire phone and slamming it to the floor while you watch, backing away in horror, his sleek boot slamming the broken pieces until it’s nothing but ruby shards.

“Who were you going to call, princess? You don’t even know where you are.”

Jesus, you think, helplessly aroused.

The next time you turn away, he wraps an arm around your waist and picks you up.

You kick your feet in protest, scratching at his arms, trying to pry his iron grip off of you but it’s no help, you grunt, and you kick and you wriggle and still he drags your body wherever.

He drops you below the chandelier of the throne room. 

It glitters in your eyes as you try to catch your bearings, sitting up you watch him grab a length of rope from his belt.

You try to scramble back but your dress catches under your feet, making you slip, falling back even more.

He grips one of your wrists while you’re disoriented, and you feel the rope wrap tightly around it. You try to push him off, but he just catches your other hand, wrapping them securely in front of you, knotting them easily.

He stands, and with a strong arm, throws the other end of the rope through a support rung of the chandelier, catching it as it swings toward him.

Then, he pulls, forcing you up onto your knees, your hands suspended in the air, as he moves to secure the rope to the throne nearby.

You struggle, trying to tug your way out, your legs tangled in your dress, stopping you from standing.

“I wouldn’t.” He warns softly, “Pull too hard and it might fall, carving up that pretty body before I’m done.”

He kneels beside you, brushing some of your hair out of your face.

“That would make me, real upset.” He breathes through the mask.

“P-lease.” You beg, turning your head to look at him, relaxing when you realise there was no escaping without hurting yourself.

“God, you're so pretty.” He trails a gloved hand over your cheek, down your chest, the leather is smooth on your skin, you shiver when his hand reaches the top of your dress.

“I almost don't want to hurt you.” his hand smooths over the front of the dress, slipping lower to gently untangle the skirts from your legs, you adjust to let him do so, thinking that it will allow you to stand up.

You turn your head to look at him, examining his eyes through the mask, the way they linger on your body, you don’t even realise what’s been done until you feel his gloved hand slip under your panties and press right to your clit.

The friction is delicious, the smooth leather providing an interesting feel between your thighs. You look down, realising he’s used the high slit of your dress to get under your skirts easily.

“Don’t.” You beg, trying to inch away, “Please.”

“I don’t fucking care what you want, princess.” He grits out harshly, his finger pressing down more firmly, slipping from side to side, the pleasure, trying to force you to shut down your resistance.

“I’m here to steal from you, and I’m going to take everything I want.”

Your breaths become shallow when his finger starts circling your aching bud, you’ve been denying yourself for so long that you feel the sweet burn of pleasure the longer he does it.

You can even feel how wet you are, in the fluidness of his movements. He breathes into your ear, and you find yourself leaning into him to take the weight off of your knees.

“Don’t do this,” You murmur weakly, “Please I’ll do anything.”

He laughs in your ear, slowing his movements to torment you.

“I’m doing you a favour, sweetheart, you should be grateful. At least I have the decency to let you cum before I fuck you with my knife.”

You make a sound of protest, angling away from him.

“No!” You cry.

He doesn’t let you move far, gripping the back of your head, till it’s tilted back, hands suspended above you, his fingers resume their fast movement on your clit.

He’s dextrous, even with gloves on, you can feel the micromovements that succeed in bringing you right up to that edge even faster.

Your eyes roll back in your head, surprised that he’s got you right on edge so soon, though you know you shouldn’t be, this is your husband after all, he knows exactly how to get you off.

The weeks of denial burn, your body not accustomed to orgasm needs an extra push getting there, he presses down even firmer, speeding up.

You groan, unable to stop it, or resist it, your stomach clenched tight with nothing in sight but the precipice of orgasm.

Don’t stop, you beg internally, please don’t stop.

It’s a hollow thing, but strong nonetheless. You breathe shallowly through gritted teeth as you reach your peak, thighs trembling, as you rut yourself helplessly on his gloved fingers.

Too good, needing just a little bit more, thighs sticky with your orgasm, his fingers growing even more messy as you come.

Your vision whites out for a moment, senses evaporating temporarily, you come back to the sound of your own panting, heavy in the room.

You don’t get a chance to look over at him with desperate eyes, he pulls his hand from between your thighs and promptly shoves his drenched fingers into your mouth.

You hum in protest, trying to pull away, but he’s still got that iron grip on the back of your head.

“Taste that slutty little cunt, princess. Remember how wet you get for me when you’re begging me to stop later.”

You can only grunt your denial, with his fingers in your mouth, the taste of leather and your arousal making its point on your tongue.

When he draws his hand back, they come out with heavy strings of saliva that cling to your bottom lip.

“You’ll pay for this.” You whisper hoarsely, your head hanging low. Your arms start to ache a little from the way they’re held above your head.

It’s the wrong thing to say, he grips your hair once more, tugging your head back to an almost uncomfortable position.

“What was that?”

You make a little sound at the way he manhandles you, tilting your head, you look him in the face.

“I said, ‘You'll pay for this.”

He studies you slowly, you watch his eyes flicker as he studies your face. You curl your hands into fists, hoping he lets you down soon.

His laughter doesn't surprise you, but it does make your stomach twist.

“Yeah? Who’s gonna make me pay? You?” He says between small sounds of amusement, reaching back, he pulls the knife from before out of his pocket.

You eye it warily, as he brings the blade up to your line of sight, you swallow, trying to breathe as you examine the wicked edge of the serrated blade.

You go perfectly still when the cool metal of the blade touches your cheek.

“You might be a pretty little thing, but you have no power to make me pay. You’re all mine to do what I want. You can’t stop me.”

You whine pitifully, knowing that his words were true.

He reaches up, cutting the rope and guiding your hands into your lap. By now, they tingle, almost numb but not quite, you sigh in relief, watching him quietly squeeze your arms.

“Don’t be scared,” He says, surprisingly soft for someone who was just running the sharp edge of a knife over your cheek, “I'm sure you'll learn to love taking my cock. Maybe with time, you'll beg me for it.”

“Go to hell.” You utter with as much venom as you can muster.

Behind the mask, you hear his laugh, watching the way he lowers his hand, flipping the knife around so that the hilt points toward you.

You lean away, your dress glittering as you move, feeble bound arms raising to push his hand back as he draws closer.

You don’t get far in stopping him, and in the next moment, you feel the hilt of his blade pressed between your thighs.

Fuck, this was too good.

Your head tips back in bliss, torn between fighting him and begging him to just take you in any way he wanted.

Your husband, the man you loved with almost every atom in your body.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You whisper on a shaky breath, turning to look at him.

Behind the mask, he huffs, the hand in your hair wraps neatly around your throat.

Pulling you close, looking into your eyes, you can hear his angry breaths behind his mask.

He wriggles the hilt of his knife against your cunt, pleasure swelling in your head at the very touch.

He stands suddenly, sheathing his knife, grips your arm to haul you up. Your legs wobble, almost giving out beneath you before he’s wrapping his hands around your hips to lift you.

With your hands tied together, there’s nothing more you can do than wiggle, shifting your body this way and that, but he doesn’t say a word, dropping you onto one of the thrones in the next moment.

He grabs the rope that's tied to the throne- the one that had been used to pull you onto your knees just moments before- and uses it to secure each hand to either side of you.

You kick your foot out at him, and he simply grabs your ankle, gloved hand trailing up to your thigh for a moment before he bends your knee, pulling your leg over the arm of the throne, and securing your ankle to a point somewhere between the base and the foot that you can't really see.

From there, it's over for you, your other foot is caught just as swiftly, and the next thing you know, you’re tied securely to the throne with your legs opened wide, draped across the arms of the intricately carved seat.

He's silent for a moment, appreciating his work, you tug at the restraints to further reinforce his satisfaction that you can't move.

“Damn. You look like a work of art.”

You frown up at him.

He leans over you, and you finally understand the versatility he has with you in this position. He could fuck your cunt, or your mouth, or even your breasts if he so wanted and you couldn't do a damn thing.

He grips your jaw with one hand, tilting your head up, coming closer, pressing a knee into the open space between your thighs for balance. When he gets close enough, he covers your eyes, and the next thing you feel is his mouth on yours.

It gives you butterflies, the way he presses in firmly, taking with his mouth, his beard scratching softly at your chin and lips. You hum against his mouth, feeling his hold on your jaw tighten for a second before he's shoving his tongue past your lips.

Like he owns you, his kiss consumes your senses, your bound fingers curling into little fists as you enjoy kissing him for a few moments more.

Before you bite down harshly on his tongue.

He pulls away in a split second, back to you as he presses his hand to his mouth. You grin in victory as he tugs the mask sitting on his head back down to his face before turning to face you angrily.

He's slow when he approaches, predatory with his long legs and his cocky attitude.

He drops to one knee in front of you, tilts his head, leaning in.

You hear the loud thud of his hand slamming into the space beside your head long before you've registered what's happened.

It makes you flinch in surprise, despite the fact that he'd practised it with you before. It seems way more sinister now, with his masked persona feeling like a different person altogether.

Naturally, the fear spinning inside of you, only succeeds in making you more aroused. 

“You're such a brat, I almost want to fuck you right now with no prep.” He presses his thumb between your spread legs, ambling slowly over your clothed clit, “I bet I'd make that little cunt cry with how much I stretch her.”

You suck in a slow breath.

“Please don't.”

He pulls his knife out again.

“You don’t really have a choice.” He answers, carefully angling the cool blade between the seam of your panties.

“Don’t move, little girl, or I might accidentally hurt you- on purpose.” He teases, tugging the knife toward him so that your panties are cut through with zero effort.

You sigh in relief when your cunt is finally exposed to the cool air, sticky with arousal, you groan when he tugs your undergarment free.

“Look at that weepy little hole princess- fuck- she’s so empty, isn’t she?”

“Noo” You hum softly, clenching around nothing as he studies your most delicate area.

He moves slowly, almost reverent in his actions, notching the tip of his hilt against your entrance, you feel your lungs seize as the pleasure hits you.

You hiss when he presses in, the ridged hilt stretching you open, not as big as his cock, but certainly larger than his fingers.

You take it as best as you can, relaxing, eyes watering with an abundance of pleasure.

He tilts his head, makes a single click of his tongue.

“She’s so greedy,” He says breathlessly, “Look at that.” He sinks more of the hilt in.

You bite your lip, moaning when he pulls slowly out, pushing in again.

He starts slow, moving softly until you can take all of the hilt. He grips the blade, you wonder if the glove protects him from the sharp edge.

You want to say his name, but he hasn’t given it, so you settle for sniffling, your bottom lip wobbling wetly as he takes his time.

“Stop.” You mewl, trying to stay in character, looking at his masked face, watching his dark eyes look back.

“No, sweetheart,” He says evenly, “I’m going to play with you, until I’m done.”

You suck in a deep breath, holding it.

He quickens his pace just a little, and before you know it, your cunt has locked tight around the hilt of his knife, every blunted ridge of it being imprinted into your head as you see stars.

It’s unexpected, you hadn’t meant to cum, your body jerking helplessly against the restraints, you pant, unable to see straight for a few moments.

You gulp in air, coming back to your senses. He waits patiently for your orgasm to subside, your body to relax before he works the hilt out of your eager cunt.

“You’re so pretty when you do that.” He says, tucking his knife back into his belt, studying you for a moment before reaching up to shove two of his fingers past your lips.

You can’t go anywhere, simply forced to feel him carefully push and pull his fingers in and out of your mouth, the weight on your tongue encouraging your brain to surrender to him.

When he determines his fingers are wet enough, he glides them down your chest, and tugs at the front of your dress.

It takes a little work before his thumb and index find your pert nipple.

A breath of air leaves you, and your back arches involuntarily, begging for more of his touch.

“You like it, huh? Kinda pathetic.”

“Rot in- f- hell.” You grunt, eyes rolling back as pleasure swims in your head from the way he takes his time to play with your nipples.

You feel his hand, drag over your stomach as he chuckles, the rushing sound as he disturbs the fabric of your skirts. Deft fingers rub circles into your inner thigh before a lone finger slips under the silky elastic garter that was holding your little knife.

You watch him assess you, bound arms and spread thighs and his masked face tilts as his eyes meet your centre.

“So pretty.” He mumbles, before he leans in, lifts his mask to the top of his head and lays a gentle lick to the seam of your cunt.

You gasp in surprise, unable to see his face with the mask atop his head, all you can do is feel- the way he licks gently at you, softly, the need burning white hot with each moment he teases. His tongue trails up to your clit, offers you a preview of the pleasure he can give, before placing slow swipes of his tongue over you.

You sigh, the fight leaves your limbs, you feel like jelly above him, with a tongue that can only be described as godly.

There’s no way you can continue fighting past this, his tongue pulls obedience from you, compliance, it makes you willing and eager to let him do whatever he wanted, helpless for your perfect husband.

You let out a slow moan, head tipping back, thighs trembling with the way his tongue moves, gliding over your clit, showing you exactly what he was capable of without ever actually giving you anything.

“Please,” You simper, unable to resist, with the tongue of such a dextrous man working on you.

If he wants to ask you about where your fight went, he doesn’t bother, merely laughing into your heated cunt, the fractures of his pale mask staring back at you.

Almost there, your fingers curl tight, nails pressed to the flesh of your palms as your breathing hastens. 

There’s a rushing in your head, pressure all over, threatening to make you burst apart.

You’re not sure if he knows or cares, his mask moving slightly when his head does, when his tongue, the raving appendage it is, delves through you.

Faster and yet faster, slippery tongue gliding over you, aimed at your oversensitive bundle of nerves, delicate movements of his tongue that are going to unravel you.

His beard rough against your thighs, a wet smacking sound, warm air brushing over you as he exhales, the reminder that he's there, enjoying his time on his knees, unwilling to stop until you've hit that peak.

He presses in closer, his grip on your thighs tightening, firm in their reminder that he’s there- as if you could forget. Your body shakes, soft whines leave your throat, his tongue harsher on your clit.

“I-” You try to say, but your body decides that you’ve spoken enough, you bite down on your bottom lip, every muscle in your body pulled tight.

The first thing you do when your orgasm hits, is tremble.

A sweet fire erupts inside of you, an insurmountable amount of pleasure spreading over you. Your breathing is harsh, heaving, his soft tongue licks you through it, gentle now and soothing between your thighs, no doubt drinking deep of your orgasm.

You press your hips into his face, unable to stop yourself, and he rewards the movement with more careful touches of his tongue.

The rope holding your arms and legs down chafes slightly, protesting your movement, and after a minute, you slump into the chair, boneless and sated.

Your breathing remains harsh, lips wet from being trapped between your teeth, your face is hot, you can feel each time the blood reaches your cheeks, each time your heart contracts in your chest.

You can't hold yourself up and you know it. If you weren't tied up you'd be in a boneless pile.

“Not bad, princess.” He says, warm breath on your thighs. He raises his body to be in your line of sight, the mask still covering his face. 

You feel your nipples tingle, excitement stiffening them as he hovers above you.

He tilts his head to study you, his gloved finger tapping the tip of your nose, sliding down to your parted lips.

“You look real pretty when you come. Your mouth opens and your eyes roll back sometimes- makes me want to do it again and again so I can memorise the way you look.”

It's hard to respond, brain hazy with post-orgasmic bliss, but you have to- you need to.

“Please,” You whisper, “You're not the first man to make me come, and you won't be the last.”

You know you're in real trouble when his hand wraps around your throat.

Your eyes widen, he squeezes hard for a moment, which only succeeds in filling your brain with mindless pleasure. You don't bother trying to breathe, waiting till his grip loosens to take a small breath.

“If you think,” He grunts angrily, leaning in till he hovers over you, “that another man is ever going to touch you, you're more delusional than I thought, princess.”

You can only make a small grunt of protest, gazing angrily up at him.

“And maybe I can't control who touched you before I met you, but I can still gift you their heads.”

It makes your breath stutter in shock.

He releases your throat, pressing the tip of his gloved finger to your bottom lip.

“Tug this off. I want to really touch you now.”

You hold his eyes while your teeth sink into the tip of his glove, biting down on his finger too. He pulls down, dislodging his finger from the glove. You release it, and repeat the process with all five of his fingers, and finally, when they're all loose, you clamp your teeth down on the middle finger of his glove and he pulls his hand free easily.

 It smears your lipstick no doubt, and you probably look quite messy by now, no doubt your hair is askew as well.

He reaches down after he makes you help with his other glove, and you hear the slow drag of his zipper. Nothing has ever sounded so euphoric.

You look up at him with wide eyes to find that he's already looking at you.

His eyes terrify you, so much darkness in them, you wonder how you'd never seen it before.

“Don't do this.” You beg, startling when you feel his hot cock brush your inner thigh.

At the same time, the main lights flicker off, only the small auxiliary lights on the walls glow softly.

The darkness in his eyes grow, until it becomes an extension of the room.

“Just breathe, princess, this is going to hurt.”

It does at first.

Even though you've come three times so far, and he's used the hilt of his knife on you, and also his tongue to help further your wetness, his size still pinches. 

It's been a while, and you feel it in the way he stretches you open, going slow because he knows he's not an easy man to take.

But God, he feels so good.

The pain comes with double the pleasure, that makes your eyes roll back in your head, bound hands curling into fists, nails digging into your palm in an attempt to process the feeling.

He pushes the tip of his cock in, works carefully to fill you, slows down when he encounters resistance.

You take a shallow breath, coming back to your senses a little, looking up at him as he works himself into you.

He rocks his hips, encouraging your body to feel him, to welcome him in, and you have no control over it, surrendering to him easily.

He's so deep you feel it in your throat, a shuddering mess as he bottoms out, you feel tears spring to your eyes, a fullness you've been craving.

Your lips tremble, watery vision glued to the mask, you couldn't look away if you wanted to.

“Should I stop?” He asks, a minuscule tremor of his voice that gives away that he's not as unaffected as he seems.

You can't say the words, the lie too big to be voiced, but you want to keep playing despite how desperately you need him.

You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding softly.

He blinks behind the mask, a tilt of his head to study you. 

Arms braced on either side of you, he leans in till the mask touches your cheek.

“That's too bad.” He murmurs.

Then, he draws out, before pressing into you once more.

You make a small sound, and then another when he does it again, the slow drag of his cock is torture, but that's the best part.

You whine, unable to speak, or voice your frustrations, but he chuckles above you, already knowing that he's not giving you what you need.

It's slow, so fucking slow and yet deep enough to create spots of black in your vision. 

He grunts above you, and the sound goes right down to your cunt, clamping around him for a second before releasing.

“Fuck.” He growls, “You're so tight. I'm going to love coming in you.”

This was it, time to be the best actress possible.

“N-no, you can't! I'm- I'm not-”

His laugh is so dark it sends shivers down your spine.

Deep and low, devastatingly malicious.

“I can’t?” He teases.

You shake your head no quickly, eyes wide in shock and fear.

He pauses his slow movements to look down at you, too enraptured to focus on two things at once.

“Who’s going to stop me, princess? You?”

You struggle against your bindings helplessly.

“It's okay, we both know you'll learn to like it.”

With those words, he resumes his slow pace.

It's not fair, barely realistic you've never had an orgasm creep up on you like this.

You don't understand, his cock is moving slow, and yet all your pleasure spots are sparking. Is it his size? Or maybe he just knows your body so well that he can force an orgasm so sweet out of you that it almost hurts.

But you can feel every spark, every short circuit of your brain, your toes curl, and your back stiffens, and the dangerous man above you draws it out, wringing each drop of pleasure before moving to the next.

“Perfect.” He whispers, almost sounding out of breath, and when your chest begins to burn, he delivers one harsh thrust of his cock that makes you topple like a house of cards.

A moan leaves your mouth on every other breath, unable to control your vocalisations, or even your breathing, clamped so tightly around him that he makes a low grunt before you feel him spill inside of you. It makes it that much better, knowing that he's hit his peak at the same time you have.

You come back to your senses slowly, his mask coming into focus.

Each breath eases the burning pleasure, replacing it with sweet euphoria, a drug like never before.

He’s panting too, trembling a little, no doubt struggling to stay upright after his first orgasm in six weeks.

And here you are, about to taunt him for it.

“Is that it?” You ask softly.

You’re a little unprepared for the way his eyes scald you.

“Is my cunt that good?” You continue to tease.

He closes his eyes, takes a slow breath to calm himself.

When he looks at you again, you know you're in a lot of trouble.

He leans away, reaches for his knife before slowly cutting the ropes free from around your ankles.

You hiss when he frees your arms, noticing that there's the impression of the rope on your wrists, you rub them as you right your legs, moving them from their previously spread state.

He watches you, and you do the same warily.

“Stand up.”

You gulp, pushing yourself onto wobbly legs, you sway for a moment, before looking over at him expectantly.

He’s still wearing the mask, but by now you’re aching to see his face, you wanted to see your husband while he did these wicked things to you.

He tilts his head toward the door, and your eyes follow the motion, not understanding until he speaks.

“Get out.”

Your head swivels back to him.

“Go, before I change my mind.”

This was another game, you realise, you’d made him mad, and he was going to show you exactly how helpless you were.

You back away, like always, keeping your eyes on his. You can feel his cum, smearing the inside of your thighs as you move. It only makes you more aroused.

You smooth your dress out anxiously, looking down at the shimmery material, and then back up at him, slowly backing away until you’re far enough that he won’t grab you from behind.

When you make it to the door, he’s still standing where he was, looking at you in the dimly lit room.

You can feel your heart in your throat with the fear of everything around you, a sinister ambience, the thrill of being chased.

Outside is dim as well.

The main lights are off. All you have to go on are the smaller lights along the walls.

You don’t get too far from the throne room before all the auxiliary lights flicker off as well.

The darkness squeezes at your heart, a shiver going down your spine. Your eyes struggle to adjust to the distinct nothingness.

The room is still, quiet around you but you can feel him everywhere. It’s like he’s the darkness surrounding you, touching your skin, depriving you of everything except himself.

It’s why you’re not surprised when you feel him at your back.

His hand reaches around, grips your throat and uses the leverage to pull you back. He isn’t gentle, squeezing at the sides harshly to ensure you’re paying attention to him, as if you could ever be distracted.

His bare hand, warm, coarse, thumb and middle finger pressed to either side of your neck. You go lightheaded at the sensation.

You feel his nose press into your hair, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear and you realise he’s taken his mask off.

“I change my mind.” He whispers darkly, laughs when you struggle.

You pull out of his grip, and you run as fast as your legs can take you.

He doesn’t chase, and you make it a good distance away, tucking your body behind a wall to catch your breath. You don’t know where you are, but you assume it’s somewhere near the front doors. The pins in your hair are uncomfortable, and you take your time tugging the little tiara out of your hair, dropping it to the floor.

You can feel his cum, making an even bigger mess, and the implications of that only succeed in heightening your arousal.

The sound of his knife, dragging against the wooden panels on the walls catch your attention. You lift your head, a tug of desire pulls below your navel.

“You know, the first time I met you, really met you, I couldn't believe you were real.” He says, his voice carrying through the quiet hallway.

“You looked at me, and you listened, and all I could think about was how to get you alone, away from that useless boyfriend of yours.”

Your lips part, head pressed to the wall, eager to hear his words, your heart drumming in your chest.

“And when you left me that night, I went back to my lonely apartment, and I found out everything I could about you. I didn’t sleep. I needed to find something to hate- something that would help me stop obsessing over a girl I’d met one time.”

His voice gets closer and you know you have to move, or else he was going to find you. 

Quietly, you kick your shoes off, abandoning them so that your steps can be quieter, you lift your skirts slowly, trying to stop the swishing sound it makes.

“You know what I found? Nothing. Nothing could make me hate you, nothing could stop what you started when you smiled at me, all of it made me want you.”

Your heart hammers even more with his words.

“And while I was trying to come up with a plan to make you mine, I’d been yours for ages.”

You stop, turning to his voice as he says that last part, wanting to go to him, to hold him, to tell him the secret you’d been keeping for weeks- that you were his too.

“Don’t fret too much about it though, princess. There’s no need to worry, I’ll feel all better once you come on my cock.”

You gasp, backing away, one hand behind you to stop you from bumping into anything. He was absolutely insane in the best way.

You can’t see a damn thing, feeling your way around to find the entrance you’d come through, your breathing is loud in your ears, you’re sure he can hear you.

You were conflicted. You wanted to run towards the scary man hiding in the darkness, though you know it would be worth your while to run away.

“You want me so bad?” You taunt into the darkness, “You’ll have to catch me first.”

Skirts in hand, you follow the first light you see- the moonlight streaming through the kitchen windows, the feel of the carpet runner helps you move in a straight line, and the next thing you know is that you’re at the foot of the stairs.

You look back, trying to make shapes out of the darkness, but there’s nothing there, you turn and begin your ascent.

You don’t know where he is, he could be two feet or two inches behind you and you wouldn’t know.

Your body is warm from the adrenaline, the dress constricts your breathing.

You stop for a second time when you find what you think is a tea room.

There’s a large wooden table sitting in front of an equally large window, the moonlight streaming in allows you to see that there’s a wall of mirrors on one side of the room. On the other side, is a smaller round table with a porcelain teapot, and other matching dishes.

“Surprise.” He says from right behind you, and you swear your heart jumps right out of your chest.

Before you can turn to look at him, your cheek is pressed to the large table, one hand behind your neck, the other pulls your skirts up.

When he has your ass exposed, his hand comes down hard on your soft flesh. You cry out.

“That’s for all your mouthing back.” He grunts, before spanking you again.

It hurts, stings so sweetly, you try to rise but his hand is firm on the spot between your neck and shoulder.

When he’s satisfied, he reaches down between your legs.

He clicks his tongue, his fingers swiping through the mess between your thighs.

“Look at the mess you made. Don't you have any kind of consideration for how hard I worked to put my cum in you?”

You feel him move, you assume to take his cock out. Your suspicions are confirmed when you feel him kick your legs wider, pressing his tip to your entrance.

You mewl helplessly when he enters you.

Stretched once more, he feels bigger in this position, his pace is harsh, fucking into you meaningfully, your eyes roll back in your head, spit slipping from past your lips as your face is kept pressed to the table.

You feel a sharp tug and your dress loosens, too pleasure drunk to figure out why.

The glide of his cock quells your urge to fight, your body sparking, electrified at the feeling of him.

He pulls you upwards, and the front of the dress sags, exposing your front to the air.

“Look at us.” He growls into your ear, turning your head to the mirror, you see your bodies reflecting back. Him, in his tight shirt and open pants, you with your beautiful shimmering dress caught between your bodies and hanging off your shoulders. It’s the first time for the night that you see his face, and your eyes are locked on how handsome he looks, hair askew, filling you with his magnificent erection.

He’d cut the back of your dress, you realise absentmindedly, your full breasts on display for him because of that, a small sound leaving your chest as he enters you again.

“We’re perfect together.” He acknowledges, you internally agree.

He presses his lips to your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the mirror, his teeth flashing for a second before he bites you.

You cry out, the sweet burn of it only succeeds in making you want him more and more.

He doesn’t stop when you come, only slows for a moment to help you catch your breath before he continues.

“All mine now, princess.” He affirms, his hips slapping against yours, filling you till your vision blurs.

Deeper than ever, you feel his cock press securely to your cervix, eager to have him fill you with his cum.

You take a shuddering breath, so close to another orgasm, unable to think about anything with the way he feels.

Your nails claw at the table, willing your body to take him, your perfect husband, giving you just what you need. He groans above you, enjoying you almost as much as you enjoy him.

The pleasure builds, swimming in your head, worsening with each move of his cock inside of you. He holds nothing back, all of his energy is focused on filling you as hard and as fast as he can, leaving nothing behind but hot, near blistering, rapture.

You cry out when you come, body shuddering, a loud roaring in your head. He grunts loudly, following you over the edge, filling you with even more of his hot cum.

After a moment, he draws out of you, helping you stand, he gently pulls your dress off, discarding it on the ground, he reaches to scoop your swaying body into his arms.

You’re sated, unable to lift your head. You feel him rest you gently on a soft, cool bed.

The sheets are amazing on your overstimulated skin, and you peek your eyes open to watch him pull his tight fitting shirt over his head.

In the low light, your eyes find his tattoo, you smile softly as it ripples, watching him kick his shoes and pants off too, until he’s hovering above you, naked.

“You’re so gorgeous.” You whisper dreamily, raising a hand to press it to his cheek.

He lets out an air of amusement, he reaches around, gripping one of your legs to wrap it around his hip.

“Only the best for you, princess.” He hums, before you feel him push his cock into you once more.

You fall asleep to him fucking you, your adrenaline crashes after countless orgasms, and before you know it you’re out. You wake a few hours later to find him inside you once more.

You moan his name, your body still eager and receptive to him, having craved this side of him for so long.

“Messy pile of wife.” He grunts into your ear mid-thrust, “Just like I promised.”

There’s so much of his cum slipping out, you can feel it, you can’t wait for him to top you up with more.

He kisses your cheek, licks a stripe through the tears slipping from the corner of your eyes.

“Cum for me. One more time, baby.”

You gasp, nodding, head filled with cotton, floating in the clouds, lost in his essence.

You blink hazily after you feel the smooth metal plug slip in, soothing you with its coolness, arousing you with the reminder that he’s filled you to the brim.

You’re pressed against him, his hand wrapped securely around you. He stretches to reach something on the bedside table.

You’re almost asleep when you feel him slip your ring back onto your finger.

It makes you complete, eases any lingering worry.

“I love you, Billy.” You murmur, before you finally let sleep take you.

.

It wakes him up.

He blinks in shock, turning to look at you.

You’ve already fallen asleep, breaths even with your left hand pressed to his chest.

Had you really just said what he thinks you just said?

He considers shaking you awake, desperate to hear you say it again. To tell him what he’s been dreaming of for years.

What if it was a mistake? His mind asks.

His stomach drops.

What if you didn’t really mean it?

He swears he breaks his own heart in the moments after you say those four words.

He stays awake for a while, trying to memorise your words, the way you said them, the way they made him feel. He tries to learn the hour and the minute and the position of the moon in the sky at the very moment the words left your mouth.

He wonders if he’ll ever hear them again, wonders if this would be the only time in his life that you say these words to him.

If this is all he gets, he decides he’s going to cherish it.

“I love you too.” He whispers, with everything he has.

.

You’re curled up against him the next morning having breakfast when you finally take the time to examine your ring.

Your body is sore, having been fucked thoroughly, but you were a little proud to see the litany of scratches over the expanse of Billy’s back. You weren’t the only one marked last night.

You raise your hand to offer him a piece of your buttered croissant, he eagerly takes a bite.

“My ring looks the same. What did you change?” You ask, reaching for more jam.

“The inside.” He says with his mouth full.

You smile, pulling it off your finger to see what’s there. On the silver surface on the inside, you can see something engraved. At first you think it’s words, but as you bring the ring closer to your face you realise it’s numbers.

“I’m still confused.” You state.

He makes a little hum, having just swallowed his food.

“If you go to my bank, and show them this ring, and give them your fingerprint, you can withdraw from any of my personal accounts.”

You blink, your eyebrows drawing together.

After a moment you give him a confused look.

He chuckles, reaching up to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing over your tense eyebrows, encouraging them to relax.

“Any amount, little wife, any time.” He elaborates.

You blink in shock.

He was… giving you access to his money?

“Is that safe?” You ask warily.

“Planning to take all my money?” He teases.

“No! But- what if someone steals the ring… or… kidnaps me and forces me to take it?”

“That will never happen.” He promises, his fingers tightening on your cheek to reinforce his words, “As long as I’m breathing, and even if I’m not, you will always be safe.”

“You can’t stop breathing,” You fight back, leaning in to wrap your arms around him, “I won’t let you.” The words are muffled against his shirt.

He laughs.

“Noted.”

.

He grunts, his fingers curling over yours as they grip the back of the soft couch.

“Hold on.” He commands, just as he slides his amazing cock into your body.

You make a soft sound of delight, tipping your head back to rest on his chest. He groans into your ear, fucking up into you slowly and thoroughly.

His skin is hot, having spent the morning of the second day exploring the gardens outside, only to come back in and ravish you on the sitting room couch.

His left hand drops down, thick fingers find your swollen clit.

“Sing for me. Let me hear you, wife.”

You whine, the sensation of his fingers rolling over your clit makes your legs shake.

“Gonna take my cum like a good girl?” He grovels in your ear.

You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding, seeing stars as he rubs your clit with more fervour.

“Fucking perfect.” He moans, and the words go right to your cunt, setting you off.

He growls in your ear when you clench around him, it only makes your orgasm last that much longer, eager to have him cum, you roll your hips on his cock.

It succeeds in working him into a frenzy, and you’re face down, with your ass in the air in the next moment.

He licks your slit harshly before his cock slides right back in, moving faster, his hips set a brutal pace, your next orgasm is like a gunshot.

He falls beside you after he comes, out of breath with a dopey grin on his face.

“What is it?” You ask curiously.

“Nothing really,” He gasps, “I just feel really fucking good.”

You smile shyly, leaning up to kiss him.

.

You’re whisking eggs for french toast when his arms wrap around you.

He presses his nose into your hair, breathing in your soft smell.

“Morning.” He grovels into your ear, feels your body shiver.

“Hello Mister Russo. Sleep okay?’

He chuckles, remembering the feel of your lips around his cock as he came last night. Fuck, you were delightfully insatiable.

“Like a rock,” He confirms, “Join me for a bath?”

“Yeah,” You agree, “Let me finish this batch and I’ll be right there.”

“Don’t keep me waiting, little wife.” He whispers as he pulls back, reaches for an apple sitting in the basket nearby, taking a slow bite.

“I won’t. Love you.” You say absentmindedly.

Billy stops.

He turns to stare at your back in shock. You continue moving as if you haven’t said anything strange.

“What was that?” He asks.

You raise your head to glance at him.

“I’ll be right there.”

“No, the last part.”

You blink, a look of confusion on your face.

“I… love you?” 

The room goes still, the only sound is the french toast as it sizzles.

“You love me?” He asks, his heart getting heavier and lighter at an alarming rate.

“Yeah? I-I said it to you on our first night. You- you said it back.”

He did remember saying it back.

“I thought you said it accidentally.”

You pause, reaching to turn the stove off, before facing him.

“You thought my tongue slipped and I told you I loved you without meaning it?”

Billy swallows.

“I thought the number of orgasms had gotten to your head and you were saying things that might not be totally true.”

Your eyebrows raise in realisation.

“It was true. I’ve been… feeling like that for a while.”

“Like you love me.” He says dumbly.

You nod your head.

“Like I love you.” You confirm.

This wasn’t an outcome Billy had ever seen coming. Sure, he’d been hoping for fondness, that he could give you a comfortable life and you could be content by his side.

But love?

Unthought of.

“Why the fuck would you love me?” He whispers, horrified.

He’d done so many bad things, ruined your life in so many ways.

You take a careful step in his direction.

“What’s not to love? You’re smart, and strong and you go after what you want-”

“-One of those things was you.” He argues.

You laugh. He wasn’t joking.

“Yeah, how I got here wasn’t the best, but, I’m glad I am, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

He takes a step toward you, and then another, and then his arms are pulling you into a soul crushing hug.

“You love me.” He murmurs into the top of your head.

“Yes,” You reply, holding him just as tightly, “I do.”

.

“Where are we anyway?” You ask on the fourth night.

He raises his head from between your thighs.

“Europe.” He answers vaguely, before dropping his head to lap gently at your clit once more.

You smile happily, leaning back against the library desk.

“Billy?”

“Mmm?” He hums from between your thighs.

“I love you.”

You feel the breath he lets out before he pulls back. 

He kisses you, lips wet with your arousal, a tart taste on your tongue that makes you smile when he pulls away.

“I’ll show you how much I love you.” He mumbles, dropping to his knees once more.

.

Coming back to his apartment after that had felt surreal.

Like it was all a dream, the fucking best dream you’d ever had.

You’d been given a letter from your mother at the front desk, and you’d happily dropped it to the floor the minute Billy had pulled you into his arms for a slow kiss.

It was… magical, your fingers glazing through his beard, gripping his hair, the next thing you know you’re being lifted and taken to his bedroom.

The fire hadn’t left either of you, burning, sizzling sparks each time you touched, each time you held his hand or kissed his cheek.

He was all over you, inside and out, claiming you in a way you knew deep down would never be done by another.

“My wife.” He groans into your ear when he comes. 

You pant, reaching up to kiss him, legs wrapped tightly around his hips to keep him inside of you for as long as possible.

Your husband.

.

He leaves you in the early morning of the next day. It’s training day and he wants to get there early to get a jump on what he’s missed.

He kisses a path between the valley of your breasts down to your womb before he leaves, dressed in a crisp charcoal suit. You grin happily as you fall back asleep.

Later, when it’s time for you to leave for work, you find that manila envelope your mom had sent you sitting on the kitchen counter. Billy had probably picked it up from the floor where you had left it yesterday when he was leaving for work earlier.

You reach for it after you’re done hopping around to tug your heel on.

It’s unopened, so you take your time peeling it open, wondering what it was. Last time it had been a bunch of recoloured family photos, you assumed this was probably more of the same.

It’s not, it’s a stack of papers. At first, it’s odd things like flyers for bikes, and a bouncy castle rental ad. You flip through, a little concerned that your mother might be losing her mind.

Your face falls when you flip another page, and find what’s really been sent.

SUPREME COURT OF THE STATE OF NEW YORK

You could feel your heart turn to ice.

You see your name printed under Plaintiff, and under Defendant, is Billy’s. Most of your information has been filled out, including your fucking social security number. Most of Billy’s information is missing, only his real name is there.

Then you see it.

‘The grounds for dissolution of the marriage are as follows:’

Divorce papers.

These were divorce papers.

.

.

.

A/N: DON'T HURT ME THANKS

[warwickroyals]

Sunderland's Royal Jewel Vault (32/∞) ♛

↬ The Trethewey Wreath Tiara

One of the few wreath tiaras in the royal vault, the Trethewey tiara remains one of the most notable tiaras of Queen Katherine (née Lady Katherine Rothman), despite not being seen since the 1950s. The tiara is named after Katherine’s family, holders of the once powerful and influential Trethewey Earldom. The daughter of the Earl and Countess of Trethewey, Katherine’s charmed life was cut short during the Great Depression. In 1931, Katherine’s family moved from their sprawling country estate into a modest three-storey townhouse. The family retained only a cook and the Countess’s lady’s maid, and for the first time in her life Katherine had to do her own chores. A new home also meant a new school, as Katherine’s parents could no longer afford a private tutor. Friends and relatives noted that the once boisterous girl became withdrawn and prone to tears almost overnight. Further tragedy struck when Katherine’s only sibling, big brother Clarence, was killed during World War Two. At the time, Sunderland was constrained by a non-aggression act it passed a year earlier, but many Sunderlandians still volunteered to fight under the Allied forces. Clarence, called Red Clarence for his socialist views, was adamantly against Sunderland’s non-interventionist stance. Despite the pleas of his parents and sister, Clarence volunteered with the United Kingdom’s Territorial Army. Following Clarence’s death, Katherine recalled becoming mad, downright neurotic. By 1941, Katherine’s behaviour reached a fever pitch, I thought I should be institutionalized and that’s what I wanted. To be put away, as they say. So I acted out more and more. My parents saw through me, I think. During this time, Katherine’s favourite exploit came in the form of Prince James, the second son of King George II and an old childhood friend. The two had begun a tryst years earlier, but after Katherine’s brother died James asked Katherine to marry him. I laughed because I thought he was joking, but he didn’t even smile. Said that he’d seen how much I’d suffered and that he wanted to save me. When Katherine rejected James he only became more and more insistent.

He went to Daddy. And then Mommy. Both insisted that it was my choice. He showed up at all sorts of crazy hours. Wouldn’t leave me alone. Every time he saw me, he would throw himself at my feet and cry: “Marry me, Kitty! I’ll make you smile again.” It devastated me; royal life was a terrifying prospect. At the time I’d wanted to fold into myself, become invisible. Now James wanted to put me in a bell jar.

In 1942, Prince James enlisted the help of his mother Queen Anne. Anne had some reservations about Katherine’s suitability for royal life, but she was also firm in her belief that each of her children should marry for love. That spring, Katherine and her mother were called to Chester Palace. Her Majesty sat me down and told me Jim would never love another girl as much as he loved me. Katherine agreed to marry James that summer. I told him to ask that same ol’ question, because I’ll respond the way he wants this time. Upon Katherine’s marriage, the fortune of her parents increased greatly. Their daughter was now the Duchess of Woodbine, the third lady of the land behind the Queen and the Princess of Danforth. Ahead of the wedding, the Earl and Countess gifted their daughter a diamond wreath tiara, featuring diamond laurel leaves between sprays of cabochon rubies. It came with a note about how proud they were and how much they loved me. I cried myself to sleep that night. It was as if something fundamental had shifted, all at once it came to me that I was no longer theirs. In the early years of her marriage, Katherine wore the tiara for her first official portraits as the Duchess of Woodbine. Images of the duchess in this tiara were displayed on stamps, posters, and even cigarette packages. Katherine disliked the publicity, but it was just a taste of what was yet to come in the years ahead. In late 1943, Katherine’s brother-in-law George, the Prince of Danforth, was assassinated. In 1944, Prince James was formally declared heir apparent. One year later, Katherine was pregnant with her first child. By 1956, King James II and Queen Katherine sought romantic comfort from other people. The Trethewey wreath tiara hasn’t been worn since.

[scurvyratt]

An unnecessarily long post as to why the Creed movies get on my nerves even though no one asked:

Sooo my friend and I made it our mission to watch the whole Rocky franchise, which consists of 6 Rocky movies and 3 spin off Creed movies. We've seen all of the movies except for Rocky 6. Imo the Rocky movies are generally fun and enjoyable, while the Creed movies are mostly boring and annoying....

The Rocky films can range from good to, not necessarily bad,,, but boring I think would be a better word. Although, I think that the blandness in the films can be excused due to the fact that the movies don't take themselves very seriously and you don't go into a Rocky sequel with the expectation of greatness lol. Rocky is very charming imo because he's a pathetic himbo. In the first movie he's involved with the mob but they didn't even like him because he would refuse to beat people up😭. He's poor, uneducated, kind, and he's only a boxer because he "can't sing or dance". The movies give you an actual reason to root for him (even if irl he probably would not have won some of his matches, but like I said it doesn't matter because the movies are unserious lol).

Some context for Creed I: in Rocky 1, Rocky's opponent is Apollo Creed, who later becomes his friend and mentor. In Rocky 4, Apollo dies.

ANYWAYS... the Creed movies follow Adonis Creed, who is Apollo Creed's illegitimate son that he had via an affair. In Creed I, Adonis is an amateur boxer and he seeks out Rocky so that he can train him for a fight. He also meets his girlfriend (and eventual wife) named Bianca. She is an up and coming musician as well as very erm.... ANNOYING💀. Her character is not very interesting and she overreacts about the dumbest things. Also there is a scene where Bianca and Adonis have sex on the couch while Rocky is sleeping in an armchair in the same room... THEY HAVE SEX IN FRONT OF HIM, IN HIS HOME, ON HIS COUCH, WHILE HE'S ASLEEP💀💀💀💀💀 They treat it as this funny tee-hee kinda moment but my friend and I were like huuuuuuuuuhhhhh😭😭😭😭. That was def when I decided that I hate them as a couple like wtf😭.

Also Rocky has the best and most compelling scenes in the movie. Rocky finds out that he has cancer and he tells the doctor "I'm okay with that" (my friend teared up) and he decides to not go through with chemotherapy because his wife and brother in law are dead, and he's estranged from his son. Adonis finds out and becomes upset that Rocky doesn't want to "live for him".... mind you, Rocky has only known Adonis for a couple months like lol. Like why would you be his reason for living... moving on, he basically coerces Rocky into doing chemo by saying that he won't fight anymore if Rocky doesn't get treatment. Which maybe others would think of that as a good thing but imo,, if the man wanted to die, he should have just let him die lmao. I found Adonis' motivations to be very selfish. Anyways blah blah blah, Rocky decides to live and Adonis wins his fight. Overall just an okay movie and Adonis was very annoying💀 I did not like his character at all lol.

Context for Creed II: In Rocky 4, Rocky fights this Soviet dude named Ivan Drago. Ivan kills Apollo Creed so Rocky goes up against him in revenge and ends up defeating him.

In Creed II, Ivan Drago is back in town and has his son Viktor with him (who is also a huge scary boxer). It turns out that after Ivan was defeated by Rocky, he was shunned (from the Soviet Union? Idk really) and him and his wife were sent to Ukraine. His wife eventually leaves him and he has to raise Viktor on his own. Ivan is basically like one of those toddlers and tiaras moms but with boxing rather than pageantry. He's pretty cold and abusive towards Viktor. This movie imo is the best out of the three; I think that all the characters have clear motivations and I liked the dynamic between Viktor and his dad. I actually rlly liked the opening scene of the movie because it starts with Ivan and Viktor in Ukraine, and Ivan literally punches Viktor awake in the morning💀💀.

Back to Adonis and Bianca... Bianca begins to develop some hearing loss (it is unclear whether it's hereditary or from loud noise) and she later finds out that she is pregnant. She expresses concerns over the fact that their baby may be born deaf, which like, does not really make sense? If Bianca has acquired hearing loss why would the baby have congenital hearing loss??? Anyways.. the baby (Amara) is indeed born deaf and Adonis and Bianca are devastated and they start crying. Which is a fairly normal response but, what gets me is that the only person to say something positive about the fact that she is deaf is Rocky. He says something along the lines of "Well she won't care that she's deaf so why should you?". And that's literally it lolol like Adonis and Bianca do not speak about the fact she is deaf ever again. At the end of the movie they show her with some bright colored hearing aids (so that they stand out to the audience) to show that "wow! Everything is good now because she can HEAR like a normal person!". Likkeee.... why couldn't they show them interacting with her using ASL instead lol? Very weird choice imo I did not like that at all.

Also every boxer has a walk out song, but for Adonis' last fight Bianca is singing??? Like she literally walks out in front of him with a mic lmaoooo😭😭. I just thought that was cringe like I did not enjoy that hifhshf.

Okay so at the end of the movie Adonis and Viktor have their big match, and ofc Adonis wins🙄🙄. Which makes no sense and they honestly should not have even fought in the first place because they are in completely different weight classes lol

In the Rocky films Rocky regularly goes against people that are larger than him, which is fine and makes sense in the context of the films because they are silly movies. Creed on the other hand takes itself seriously so the size difference stands out more. Like in Rocky 4, Adrian's flop drunkard incel brother lives with them, and Rocky gets him a robot wife as a gift😭. Like the Rocky movies are unbelievably dumb lol.

I was seriously rooting for Viktor the whole time😭 and the only reason that he lost was because his dad threw down the towel and gave up the fight. Which like, I guess is sweet but we don't ever see Ivan reflecting on the fact that perhaps he's pushing Viktor too hard. Also like 3 minutes before that he was literally telling Viktor to kill Adonis lmao so it makes no sense for him to throw in the towel but WHATEVER I guess. At the end of the movie Rocky makes up with his estranged son and he moves to Canada or something. So.

Creed III: this is the first Creed movie without Rocky. In this movie, Adonis reunite with his childhood friend Damian who has been in prison for nearly 20 years. 20 years for a crime that Adonis committed mind you. The story takes place 6 years after Creed II and Adonis is now retired. This movie is way better in regards to deaf representation. Amara no longer has hearing aids and she communicates with her parents using ASL.

So Adonis is annoying as usual and doesn't rlly gaf about the fact that Damian was in prison for that long lol. He comes out of retirement to fight Damian and Damian ends up losing to Adonis... which pissed me off like what was the reason lol. I honestly thought that he was gonna lose or let Damian win but WHATEVER.... I don't have much to say about the actual plot of the movie tbh like it was just boring lmao.

What did bother me though was the sponsorships... the movie was sponsored by Hennessy, Showtime, and Ralph Lauren and they were not subtle about it at alllll😭😭😭😭. They were drinking Hennessy and the name was splattered around everywhere. At the beginning of the movie Adonis is wearing this fuck ass outfit.. my friend and I were so confused😭 why is he wearing a hoodie underneath a blazer like💀

Later, Adonis steps outside and you see this advertisement plastered to the outside of a building. Like the Adonis character was doing Ralph Lauren ads in the movie lmao😭😭

After we saw this ad the stupid outfits made so much more sense lol.

The difference between Rocky and Adonis is actually funny to me though bcuz in Rocky 2 they try to get him to do ads, but he is unable to read the cue cards because he is canonically illiterate💀

Okay last thing, and this is totally nit picky of me, but I hated their mansion. It was this terrible modern style LA home like dont piss me awffff...

Alright that's all that I have to say about these films. I rlly could not tell you why they have such high ratings. And I know that like 90% of this is just me being a hater ig but idgaf lol.

[polkiuu]

2023 Dive Into Aquaplus

After having been into Utawarerumono for well over a decade, and having one foot into Tears to Tiara for the longest of time as well, I decided to finally take the plunge this year to try a variety of Aquaplus' very colorful catalogue.

I got into Utawarerumono a long, long time ago, back when the 2006 anime adaption of it was still airing. At the time, my like of it was mostly superficial. I was still a kid, and I just liked the aesthetics of it. I only started watching it because the name was long and nonsense to me who didn't know a lick of JP at the time. But it stuck with me as it was one of the first few anime I had started watching as it was airing in Japan and subbed. It also introduced me to Suara, who my love for has been anything but superficial.

If it weren't for the 2015 anime adaption of Utawarerumono Itsuwari no Kamen, it may have just stayed as a memory of aesthetics. A few episodes into its airing, I had a strong urge to buy the game, and so I asked for it for Christmas. I was never the same since.

While waiting for the release of Utawarerumono Futari no Hakuoro later in 2016, I got my hands on Tears to Tiara 2 to try and fill the void. I had previously seen the Tears to Tiara anime back in 2009 while it was airing, as I had immediately recognized the art as being similar to Utawarerumono. Looking it up I learned it was from the same company, and Amazuyu had also worked on some of the designs for it as well.

Unfortunately, the game was incredibly difficult for someone like me who is terrible at strategy games, and the writing didn't manage to hook me early on, so I ended up putting the game on hold indefinitely about 10 hours in. At some point in 2017 I picked up the remake of the first game, Tears to Tiara Kakan no Daichi, and really loved it. It still wouldn't be until this year though that I fully threw myself into the Tears to Tiara franchise.

Fast forward to 2023, through various Utaware phases and burnouts, and the release of Monochrome Mobius: Rights and Wrongs Forgotten along with the 3rd anniversary event in the Utawarerumono Lost Frag mobile game re-igniting my mood for the series at the tail end of 2022, I finally decide that this year is the time to make due on my desire to play more Aquaplus titles.

Tears to Tiara II: Heir of the Overlord

Seven years after my first attempt, I finally went back to this in January and finally completed it. My issues from my first attempt never really went away, however the writing managed to hook me around chapter 5, and I had a lot more enjoyment with the OST and various small things now that I had actually experienced the first game, and not just the anime. The uses of Until and Tears to Tiara 凱歌 will live in my head rent free until the end of time.

Tarte became not only my favorite TtT character, but maybe even my #1 Aquaplus favorite. ああっ女神さまっ…

This game got me to start paying attention to Honjou Tatami.

The nostalgia for the first TtT game wrecked me hard and I ended up replaying it right after.

Tears to Tiara: Kakan no Daichi

我が友よ

My Tears to Tiara mood was unstoppable, and so I finally bought its fandisc.

Tears to Tiara Gaiden - Avalon no Nazo

Nothing could have prepared me for the Lidia content in this game or the dragon stage straight from the ninth level of hell.

I still haven't recovered from the ending and the double whammy of realizing what the start of the OP is. The bastards really did it twice.

After this I went on a spree and bought all the LEs and the novels and manga... it is criminal how little supplementary material the games have, and how 2 has none. I have nothing to go on now but copium and offering my life to Marui Takeshi.

Tears to Tiara Gaiden 2 and Tears to Tiara 3 when.

Next, I played my first dating sim in 8~9 years, and a more obscure one at that.

Routes

You don't know what you're getting into until you've already beaten this game.

One of the more unique things I've experienced, to the point I don't know how to talk about it without spoiling it, and it is definitely a game best played blind. Quite possibly the most unique script-writing I've seen. The way the two scenario writers duties were split is one of the best uses of multiple writers that I've seen in a game.

The voice acting in this game is a masterpiece.

One thing I really love about both Routes and Tears to Tiara is the kind outlook on life they have.

I started this just before the Dungeon Travelers 2 series re-release and still have not touched those.

Next, I somehow ended up on one of their most famous.

White Album 2 ~Introductory Chapter~

Short, but emotionally loaded. After All ~Tsudzuru Omoi~ changed me as a person.

I started this one just a few days before the first White Album game's re-release because of course I did.

White Album 2 ~Closing Chapter~

One very charged, and very long work. I had to sit on it for quite a while after. I also binged all its supplemental material.

I haven't had a love/hate relationship with something this strong since, well, Inuyasha. You have issues, Maruto.

Kazusa Normal was a great route.

WHITE ALBUMの季節はまだまだこれからだよ。

White Album ~Tsuzurareru Fuyu no Omoide~

A little underwhelming, honestly. The way the gameplay and routes are structured makes the writing very fragmented. Had some nice moments, but overall I enjoyed the writing of Sayoko's route most, as it feels most coherent, likely due to it being added into the 2010 remake.

Despite the fragmented writing, I did like many of the heroines quite a bit.

White Album has been stuck in my head for months, and now the season for it is upon us...

And what would be most fitting to follow it up with another winter-related game, if not...

Tenshi no Inai 12-gatsu

It might be time to lay off the depresso games for a bit, as I had a hard time getting into this one. In a weird way it reminded me a lot of how screwed up my own mentality was when I was younger, and it's not something I cared to remember. I suppose it gets points for realistically depicting the unstable nature of the adolescent mind.

It had some interesting underlying themes, and I don't dislike the message of it, but I was unable to feel any investment in the heroines. I may have liked it more if the characters were a little more fleshed out.

I've only just beaten it, so I need to sit on my thoughts for it a little longer.

And then a special mention to none other than:

Utawarerumono Lost Frag

I finally picked this back up in November 2022, during it's 3rd anniversary event when they added Raikou. It's not every day you get an entire event dedicated to your only OTP in the series.

I got especially into it after my TtT marathon, and I've read most events, various character stories and a little of the main story. I always wanted to give it another chance, and I'm glad to have finally found something to pull me back into it. I really enjoy what it offers, from the expansions of various Utaware lore, to doing things only a social game really can. The event writing is out of this world.

It gave me 2 of the top 3 things I wanted to see for 7 years from the series now and I can only pray it delivers on the last someday.

Final thoughts

I've had a lot of Aquaplus vocal tracks in my library for many years, and its fun to go through their backlog and realize what songs are from what, and which ones I had that I didn't even realize were from Aquaplus games. And since I've followed Suara since 2006, making the connection between her discography and where her non-utaware songs are from has been a blast so far.

I look forward to diving further in in 2024. I want to give their other famous series like Dungeon Travelers and ToHeart a shot. Comic Party is still waiting on my shelf, as well.

Going through different time periods with their artists is a really fun adventure from an artist's perspective. It's fun to see where they've improved, what habits they've kept, the areas where they adjust things to be more modern, and how their painting evolves. For a long time I only knew Amazuyu by name, but now it's fun to glance at an artwork and be like "Oh, so and so drew this around xxxx year."

I want to see another game with Tatami as the main artist...

I also recently realized the only things I've finished since March have been various Aquaplus fanarts (I have drawn other things, just not finished...) Something unlocked in my brain and I'm enjoying drawing again to an extent, and for that I'm glad.

[rignac]

Wild Drift Vegeinz; Crosmos.

I.

The ground is widely accessible by those who walgreens fluorescent with (@ZB1)the inaugural shot showing up as the dimensions that extend from the wristwatch the celestial realm to the the distinguished milliseconds are brimming with the rhythmic wildflowers as leisure time goes onward as tranquility deviates regarding the village’s endless summer. Solar Beams as the meticulously winged avian; given that this echoes liberty, I provided my assumptions about the moniker \ Rignac Ash-Fhaldi \. My sacred cluster picked /Kim Jiwoong/ to be in line with the ground’s medieval heavenly bodies, basing its origins from the sanctuary of /Kim Jiwoong/. The languid light of these imagined hollows makes the splendor of the cannons just brilliantly shimmer as its lavish necessities are showcased opted for acting In-Character as the role-playing scheme; thus, the rising of daylight like a drifting Soul of Dandelions perfectly measures my eagerness for my muse’s arrival. This means that in order to get more fig-blue damp earth outputs, all published entries must use universal language. This ensures that the upgrades are completely integrated and understandable to the broader audience.

II.

Doodle to a measure with the genuine methods of my professions, therefore this piece will likely be vague from in reality owing to playing with the fictional ones that adhere to the outside parameters (ZB1). The keyboardist’s willingness to attempt to replicate the actual details of the artist’s main arrangements while adhering to its propagated point of view is assumed. In order to do this, a formal assembly noting my limned changes and an oath for a wholly new universe must be produced in designated outlines at the spot you opt for. Jennifer sees its route too soon, so it grasps that glass tiara wildly and softly as it looks on with countless millions of happy tears. Memphis’ enthronement transforms into a joyful yet elegant blend. Raiding under the rock, soaring lavender gauge is gasping from the arpeggio and seraphic melodies trilling in unison. Together they come and ride to an entirely novel Boy Starz ASH-FHALDI, establishing in a new earth-based creek, I informally pledge ensuring the veracity and brilliance of each of the off lobby, resulting in are complemented by real-life situations shows of my opted for muse. On top of that, the linked renderings have been sourced from numerous digital mediums, which at first ought to be linked adequately. Despite lofty goals for acquiring our metaphysical agleam, I shall begin the warm embrace of an all-over rebirth /meadow valley evaluates an avenue for association. In light flame with top tier on the Ground. /“Cosmos 1”/.

[humor-y-videojuegos]

Tears To Tiara II: Heir Of The Overlord 🏢 Aquaplus 📅 2013 🖥 PS3

[trap-of-the-day]

Today’s trap of the day is: Daphnis from Tears to Tiara II: Haou no Matsuei

[video-game-jams]

Tears to Tiara II: Heir of the Overlord - Arrive, Decisive Battle!

[aestheticallypleasinganimeboys]

Dion - Tears to Tiara II: Heir of the Overlord

[aboveallarescuer]

DAENERYS TARGARYEN’S OUTFITS IN A GAME OF THRONES

(AGOT, ACOK, ASOS, ADWD)

Last September, I commissioned the amazingly talented @ilrex to draw fanart of every single Dany outfit that’s described in the books. I can’t thank them enough for accepting my request, for making me so happy and excited whenever I received updates of their progress, for finishing such a huge project, for giving me such diverse options to use as my tumblr icon (lol), for greatly enriching my (re)reading experience of Dany’s chapters and for surpassing all my expectations with their gorgeous style and attention to detail. Ilrex deserves all the praise for their depiction of these outfits, which will be posted per book on different days.

So here are Dany’s outfits in A Game of Thrones, along with the book descriptions (a few of them were skipped for being too repetitive and/or vague) that ilrex had in mind in order to draw her costumes:

When she was clean, the slaves helped her from the water and toweled her dry. The girl brushed her hair until it shone like molten silver, while the old woman anointed her with the spiceflower perfume of the Dothraki plains, a dab on each wrist, behind her ears, on the tips of her breasts, and one last one, cool on her lips, down there between her legs. They dressed her in the wisps that Magister Illyrio had sent up, and then the gown, a deep plum silk to bring out the violet in her eyes. The girl slid the gilded sandals onto her feet, while the old woman fixed the tiara in her hair, and slid golden bracelets crusted with amethysts around her wrists. Last of all came the collar, a heavy golden torc emblazoned with ancient Valyrian glyphs. (AGOT, Daenerys I)

~

So she sat in her wedding silks, nursing a cup of honeyed wine, afraid to eat, talking silently to herself.

[...] She stood there helpless and trembling in her wedding silks while he secured the horses, and when he turned to look at her, she began to cry.

[...] He removed her silks one by one, carefully, while Dany sat unmoving, silent, looking at his eyes.

[…]  He stood her up then and pulled her close to remove the last of her silks. (AGOT, Daenerys II)

~

She was barefoot, with oiled hair, wearing Dothraki riding leathers and a painted vest given her as a bride gift. She looked as though she belonged here. (AGOT, Daenerys III)

~

Warm blood filled her mouth and ran down over her chin. The taste threatened to gag her, but she made herself chew and swallow. The heart of a stallion would make her son strong and swift and fearless, or so the Dothraki believed, but only if the mother could eat it all.

[...] The procession waited on the grassy shore as Dany stripped and let her soiled clothing fall to the ground. (AGOT, Daenerys V)

~

When she emerged from the lake, shivering and dripping, her handmaid Doreah hurried to her with a robe of painted sandsilk, but Khal Drogo waved her away. […] Only then was Doreah permitted to drape her in the scented sandsilk, and Irri to fit soft slippers to her feet. (AGOT, Daenerys V)

~

They scrubbed her clean and dressed her in sandsilk, loose and flowing. (AGOT, Daenerys VI)

~

A great knife of pain ripped down her back, and she felt her skin tear open and smelled the stench of burning blood and saw the shadow of wings. And Daenerys Targaryen flew.

“… wake the dragon …”

The door loomed before her, the red door, so close, so close, the hall was a blur around her, the cold receding behind. And now the stone was gone and she flew across the Dothraki sea, high and higher, the green rippling beneath, and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings. (AGOT, Daenerys IX)

~

And saw her brother Rhaegar, mounted on a stallion as black as his armor. Fire glimmered red through the narrow eye slit of his helm. “The last dragon,” Ser Jorah’s voice whispered faintly. “The last, the last.” Dany lifted his polished black visor. The face within was her own. (AGOT, Daenerys IX)

~

For herself she chose loose sandsilk trousers, sandals that laced halfway up her legs, and a vest like Drogo’s. (AGOT, Daenerys X)

~

Her vest had begun to smolder, so Dany shrugged it off and let it fall to the ground. The painted leather burst into sudden flame as she skipped closer to the fire, her breasts bare to the blaze, streams of milk flowing from her red and swollen nipples.

[...] She was naked, covered with soot, her clothes turned to ash, her beautiful hair all crisped away … yet she was unhurt. (AGOT, Daenerys X)

[warwickroyals]

Sunderland's Royal Jewel Vault (29/∞) ♛

↬ The Duchess of Westminster's Ruby Parue

As we learned last week, a majority of Queen Anne’s jewels were heirlooms from her extravagant grandmother, Martha, Duchess of Westminster. Today, we will learn about another one of the duchess’s suites, the lesser-known Westminster Ruby Parure. The suite of rubies and diamonds originally belonged to Lady Martha Whitley, who became the Duchess of Westminster when she married King Louis II’s sixth son, Prince Augustus, Duke of Westminster in 1838. The Duke and Duchess, along with their three children, were important members of the royal family, representing four subsequent kings: King Louis III, King James, King Louis IV, and King George. As a senior lady at court, Martha was noted for her large collection of jewels, including an eye-catching set of rubies which she often paired with expensive satin gowns and plumes of ostrich feathers. A ruby tiara, featuring large tear-drop-shaped gems, was the highlight of the parure. Over the years, the rubies were also worn by Martha’s daughter, Princess Elizabeth Anne, but when the Duchess died in 1911, her will left the rubies for none other than her beloved granddaughter, Princess Anne of Westminster. Anne was the only legitimate male-line grandchild of the Duke and Duchess of Westminster, as such most of the Westminster possessions passed to her. However, this transition was not a smooth one. Through their eldest son Prince Louis, the new Duke of Westminster, the Duke and Duchess also had three illegitimate grandchildren, who were less than pleased to be left out of their grandmother’s will. In 1913, with the support of their father, they contested Anne, by then Duchess of Woodbine, for several of their grandmother’s possessions, including the rubies and large sums of money. It’s unclear how this conflict was resolved, some claim Anne simply refused to meet her cousins’ demands, while other sources state a judge sided with the Princess. Either way, Anne maintained ownership of the rubies, although money was rumoured to have “traded hands.” By 1930, Anne was Queen and while she posed with the rubies on multiple occasions, they weren’t among her favourites. When her youngest son Prince Michael, Duke of Glencairn, married Esther Jungman, Anne surprised her daughter-in-law by gifting her the collection. By then, the suite had grown to include the tiara, a necklace, two matching bracelets, earrings, and multiple brooches. Esther got good use out of the rubies, wearing them to numerous high-profile events—state visits, wedding receptions, and banquets—until her death in 1988. Afterwards, the rubies were passed on to Esther’s eldest daughter, Princess Mary. Mary wore the parure’s tiara in its original state a handful of times, but in the 1990s she decided to alter the tiara, selling the top row of tear-drop rubies and modifying the tiara into a smaller, bandeau shape. This choice caused drama between Mary and her two sisters, with Princess Frances of Glencairn allegedly accusing her sister of “massacring Grandma’s tiara”. Members of the family were seemingly puzzled by Mary’s choice to tinker with such an old tiara. Mary, known for her unfussy and aloof demeanour, seemed unbothered by the hysterics. “It’s mine, I can do what I want with it,” was her alleged response. “It was either alter it or sell the whole damn thing. People would complain regardless.” Exceptionally close to King Louis V, Mary continues to be a devoted working royal. As a result, the Westminster rubies continue to pop up on many occasions. Altered or not the Westminster ruby tiara has remained at play for almost two hundred years, something that sets it above even the most famous of Sunderlandian tiaras.

[subwaysurf45]

The Time of the Prey (2)

Summary: The younger sister of the most talked about princess in the kingdoms really can’t do much except smile and nod. When Natasha, your sister, finally goes to moves all of you to Shieldshire to marry her beloved Prince Steve you are left with your art, all alone. But one Knight took it upon himself to keep you company, and that company was all you needed to get through wedding season. Will that company last or will it be ripped away from the both of you? A war is starting and it seems targets are being made.    

Pairing: Knight!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: stalking, protective Bucky, mentions of poison, allusions to SA and kidnapping, fluffy yet angsty

Series Masterlist      II      Series Playlist

It had been a few days since your arrival and you had yet to see the outside of the castle, there had been so many wedding preparations with Natasha she asked you to come to all of them. As you sat with her to pick out flowers for her bouquet or sit on a very comfortable poof as she tried on her wedding dress. 

Your mother was there as well when Natasha was trying on her dress, their top seamstress tightening her corset. You had worn one before but not enough to know how to breathe, your mother wore one every day. Your mother was brought to tears when she saw the tiara placed on Natasha’s head, you had never seen her cry before but your mother had the biggest smile on her face. 

“Leave us,” she said and the seamstress finished the last measurement and left the room, “Y/N, that means you too.” 

You had never been included in the wave of the hand dismissal before. 

Royalty had a way of bossing around people below them, you’ve never heard your mother use please or thank you to any handmaid, servant, or seamstress in your life. Normally, if your mother asked you to leave- which is more than most people think -she’d say your name and add a please for good measure. 

You almost let your shocked expression show when you got up to leave, placing a hand on your stomach and felt a stiff board that was there. You were wearing another gift gown you received when you showed up, Shieldshire’s dresses had a lot more boning than South Lands’ dresses. 

“I will be going to the market today, mother,” you said at the doorway, “I hope you and Natasha have a nice day,” you knew your mother could see through your smile, she knew you could easily fake courtesy but when you made it easy to tell you were upset was worse than faking it. 

“Sister?” Natasha quickly called, “will you wear a corset with me a few days before my wedding, maybe a week before to get used to it?” she was wearing one now, feeling the pain as she breathed. Natasha always had a hard time picking up on the fake curtsies, always thinking people were being extremely proper to her no matter what.  

“You’ll never go through it alone, sister,” you smiled, “may I suggest wearing Shieldshire’s gowns, they’re tighter than ours.” Natasha smiled and nodded, her chest almost spilling out of the front of her dress. It was her wedding soon, you would be evil to be mean to her in this moment. 

“Thank you,” she whispered before you closed the door. 

“Princess Y/N,” a guard had approached, “do you need an escort, where are you heading?” he smiled. 

“I’m going to the market, I would like to find some fabrics and dresses,” you smiled and walked past him, knowing you didn’t need an escort when going to the market near castle walls. 

“Then you will need an escort,” the knight walked beside you and turned in front of you, “I will accompany you.” 

“I don’t need one,” you laughed, “I’m very capable on my own, thank you.” 

“I do not doubt that, Princess,” he laughed, “but it is castle rules, you are leaving so you’ll need an escort.” 

“But I was told I do not need one, that if I was just going to the market near the castle I would always be in a knight's eyesight.” your voice went up as you talked, seeing the confusion on the knight’s face. 

“May I ask who told you that, Princess?” his voice shook. 

“I-I don’t know, he came into my room and told me my art would be coming and told me what I told you…was he lying?” you stepped forward with a furrowed brow, “what is the matter?” 

“You go back to your chambers,” he said quickly, “someone will be there soon.” 

“What is going on?” you asked as he walked you back, “you must tell me!” you shouted as he pushed you into your room and closed the door, the sound of it locking caused you to stomp your foot, something you could get slapped for. 

You sat on the edge of your bed with your arms crossed, a pout on your face. You just wanted new dresses and to survey the land for painting spots, the last thing you wanted was to be locked in your room, not understanding anything. Your mind wandered and you wondered if you’d get in trouble for this, your mother seemed to have enough of you already, and you didn’t want to see how mad she’d get if she found you had caused a scene. Natasha had enough stress on her already. Though she was older than you, both of you knew she relied on you for comfort. Her wedding means so much to her that you wanted it to go as smoothly as possible. 

There was a knock at the door, “Princess Y/N?” the voice was muffled, “it is Ser James, may I open the door?” 

“It is locked,” you said as you stood. 

When you reached the door it was already open, James stood in the doorway, “and I have a key.” 

“Lucky you,” you rolled your eyes and turned around going back to your bed, “you may come in.” 

James entered but left the door slightly open, “I’m here to escort you to the market, I heard you would like to shop.” 

You looked over at him, “why?” he seemed very confused like the last knight, “I was told you don’t need an escort if you’re near castle walls, am I missing something?” 

He let out a deep sigh, “I’m afraid you are,” his hands joined together, “the man that was in your room was not a man of Shieldshire or South Lands,” he slowly looked up to you, “he was a spy, from Hydra’s Hill, he was caught yesterday when he was sending a pigeon back to his home,” Natasha and Steve communicated through messenger pigeons, it was common and the main form of communication amongst royals. 

You could feel your blood running cold, “he was able to enter my room…h-he must have had a key…how could he have-”

James quickly sat next to you on your bed, “do not worry, Princess,” he calmed, “he had been taken care of. But you, Princess Natasha, and Lady Melina are being watched closely, we do not know who is a spy.” he smiled when you began to calm down, “I will be your personal escort wherever you’d like, I’m going to keep you safe because that is my job.” only now did you notice a slightly heavier tunic and chain mail covering his chest, he was also wearing padded pants. 

“Ser James,” you stood up and brushed down the front of your dress, “you should be watching Natasha rather than me, she is a more prized possession than me,” you scoffed and walked over to your vanity. 

“Princess Y/N,” James spoke slowly, “it is not the oldest and the one that is to be married who is more likely to be taken, it is also not a mother who had already been wed,” you felt him stand and step closer, “it is the youngest, that would be you.” 

You slowly turned around and saw the worry in his eyes, “but wouldn’t they want the prized jewel?” 

He shrugged, “sometimes it’s easier to steal the royal staff,” one hand grasped yours, “because it is not guarded as strongly as the jewel.” he slowly dropped your hand after you nodded, “let’s not ruin the day entirely, if you want dresses we’ll do get dresses, Princess.” 

You nodded and began to walk, he followed behind you, “can you walk by my side, rather than behind me, Ser James?” you asked over your shoulder. 

“Of course, Princess.” he walked beside you. 

He walked beside you as you left the main doors, out into the sun. you stopped abruptly and so did James, your eyes slowly closed as you took in the smell of afternoon air. When you opened your eyes you saw people walking around, living their normal lives. James touched your elbow and guided you to keep moving, you walked beside him. 

“So,” you started but never finished your sentence. 

“So,” he with a smirk as he looked over at you, “what is it you want to ask?” 

“When these younger princesses get stolen,” his smile fell, “do they normally get saved?” Your hands played with one another, silently becoming more anxious about the situation that has unfolded in front of you. “or do they...?” 

“Please do not worry yourself with that, we’ll keep you safe here,” James shook his head, stopping in front of a vendor who sold fabrics. 

“I’m just curious,” you said innocently, picking up some of the fabric and feeling it between your fingers. 

“P-Princess Y/N,” the vendor seemed to be in shock, “what a lovely surprise,” he had a permanent smile on his face, “please, feel free to look at whatever you like, if you have your sizes we can make the dress and send it to you inside the castle.” 

“That would be lovely,” you nodded, the vendor seemed pleased. 

He stood back and allowed you to feel and look at all the fabrics. They were rich and soft, as you felt a sheet of purple silk between your fingers your eyes seemed to close, it was as if it wasn’t there; that’s how smooth it was.  The vending table was made of a slab of wood with a tent above it, there were alternating white and red flags hanging off of the edges, there was a white tablecloth underneath the fabrics to make them pop, a black fabric under the white silks and furs to make sure everyone saw them. 

There were fruit stands and jewelry stands with different colour flags hanging off the side of their tents, it seemed these stands stayed put but the vendors changed. People were walking around with baskets on their arms. There were families walking as well, kids running between a mother's and father’s legs as they played with a new toy. 

You looked back at the fabric and picked up the purple sheet, “this would make a great wedding gift for my sister, I’ll have someone send her sizes,” you smiled up at the vendor. 

“Anything for you, my Princess?” he asked, “see, this colour would look great against your skin, let me tell you,” he held up a dusty orange fabric, you touched it and it felt heavier than most he had laid out, “see,” his arms reached out to place the fabric against your chest. 

“Watch it,” James reached in and grabbed his wrist.

“Ser James,” you chastised, removing his hand, “I’m sorry, mister,” you looked back at the vendor who was shaking, James was much larger than the man. “Continue.” It was known not to get on a Knight’s bad side, they were heavily trained and could kill in a silent but torturous way.

“I-I…” the man stumbled, “the colour would really compliment your skin, as seen here…” he reached out slowly and looked at James as he did, gently placing it upon your exposed chest and collar bone so you could see in the small mirror behind him. 

“That does look wonderful,” you gasped, your hands feeling the fabric though it rested against your skin already, “it’s heavy, what is it?” 

“A binding of silk and wool,” he smiled, “I made so many prototypes to get a ratio right, I’m very proud if you can’t tell.” it seemed he had forgotten about James grabbing his hand and was back to just having a conversation with you. 

“I can’t sew to save my life,” you giggled, “I’ll have someone send mine and my sister's measurements to you right away-how much for all of this?” 

“My Princess,” he shook his head with a blush, “not a penny, our town is so excited the Prince is getting married to Princess Natasha, this dress is a gift to you.” he couldn’t contain his smile, taking one hand and squeezing it between both of his, “thank you,” he said passionately. 

“That’s enough,” James grumbled and detangled the hands, “let's move on.” 

You didn’t pick up anything else, you didn't have a basket to hold anything in. James walked with you around the market and stopped whenever you did, looking around and surveying his surroundings. You tried to engage in conversation with him but his mind was elsewhere, he didn’t care that you liked the tree hanging down or the pretty flowers on display. You ended up getting a bouquet as a gift from the vendor, you held them in front of you chest as you walked, occasionally smelling them. 

“They are wonderful,” you looked up at Ser James who was looking everywhere but you, “your kingdom has such wonderful greenery, don’t you think?” you gasped as you looked around, which ever way you looked you were greeted with some form of plant. 

“Yes,” was all he said. Nothing enthusiastic, it looked like talking about flowers was pitiful to him; you swore you saw him roll his eyes. 

When you were making your way back a man approached you and James stood in front, one hand out to make sure he could feel you behind his back. 

“I would like to offer some wine,” he said as he held a small glass, “we would love to supply the wedding if the Princess will have us.” 

“That is not up to me,” you said as you stepped around James, “but if it is good I'll be sure to tell my mother.” you reached out to grab a cup but James got in your way, taking to cup and offering it to the man selling it to you. 

“You first,” James snarled. 

“I’m afraid do not understand, this is a gift for Princess-”

“I know what you intend,” James pushed the cup towards him again, “but you drink first.” 

“Do you think I want to poison the Princess?” he gasped, “I would never,” he swiftly took the cup and took a sip, even flashing his tongue after swallowing, “how poorly do you think of the common folk, Knight?” 

“Alright,” you stepped in, “no need to fight, some of us are more paranoid than others I’m afraid,” you laughed it off, “I’d love some.” you took a sip and felt the liquid fill your mouth, it was very fruity and seemed to dance on your tongue, “it’s the bubbly kind!” you smiled, “I had it once when I was a child, with my sister, it was so splendid,” you cheered, “my mother never let us have it, it was a treat.” you took another sip and looked to James, “would you like some, Ser?” 

“No,” he said flatly, ��I can’t.” 

“Right,” you shook your head, Knights can’t drink. You placed the cup in the man’s hands, “thank you so much, I’ll be sure to tell my sister.” 

“Thank you, Princess,” it looked like his day was complete. 

James had taken you back to the castle, you were now secluded from the population and on royal grounds. There were Duchess and Dukes walking past you, smiling and waving. James seemed to relax as you walked past other guards, he was walking beside you again and engaging in minimal conversation. 

“No, they don’t,” he said out of nowhere, you had not prompted them at all. 

“Pardon?” you stopped and turned to face him.  

“Your question from before,” he said slowly, “you asked if the youngest Princess gets saved,” he paused, “they don’t.”

“Oh…” you looked to the ground and the loose gravel under your feet. There was this weird feeling swirling around in your stomach, as much as you hated how stern and straight to the point he was, you couldn’t get over the little curls that framed his face. He was talking about you getting kidnapped and all you could think about was those freckles scattered on his cheeks, you felt like you sister. “What-what happens?”  

“If they’re taken for ransom, the price to pay is typically too high and the castle gives up the life for the greater good. If they are taken for a some type of warning then…well, there is a war,” he sighed, “as of right now with things brewing between all castles it seems someone would be taken for a warning, something dangle in front of another kingdom like a ragdoll.” 

“Ragdoll?” your voice gave out as you asked. 

“I do not mean to scare you,” he looked both ways before talking, “but you must understand what men will do to a Princess if she is taken.” 

“I understand,” you nodded, “I’ve never been called that before.” 

James’ face fell, “I do not call you a ragdoll, simply drawing from previous wars and explaining it that way, I do not think you will be captured, we’ve realized there is a snake early on and we’re are doing everything we can to protect you and your family.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

“Let’s change the subject,” he smiled, “it too good a day to be talking about ragdolls,” James offered his arm to you, “I hear you like to paint?” 

“I do,” you smiled. 

“I have just the thing.” 

********

The gentle spring day set the scene for the small pond presented in front of you. 

The water was close to clear and as you stepped forward you could see a rippled reflection of yourself, there were lily pads and flowers floating on the surface of the pond, a few fish creating circulation. There was a shimmer running along the gently flowing water, it would sometimes reflect straight into your eyes but you wouldn’t mind, just slightly adjusting the angle you were looking at yourself from. 

A calm breeze moved the trees above, shaking out a few leaves which were caught by the thick and healthy grass and water. You stood with your eyes closed and breathed in the rich air, feeling how clean it was and the way it opened your lungs just a little wider. 

It felt as though you were already staring at a painting, the spring sun lit up the grass and trees perfectly. There was no flaw in this little patch of space and you felt a certain ownership of it. This was not your land or your kingdom but you knew you could paint this very well; that painting would belong to you. 

The pond and trees were in a valley, there was a hill which is where James stood, giving you time to look by yourself. 

“It’s beautiful!” you called up to him, making your way up the hill. Your shoes had come off and you picked up your dress which caused you to show your calf, “it’s only my leg, Ser James,” you laughed as you saw him look everywhere but you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as you made your way up to him, slightly out of breath. When you stood beside him you let your dress cover your ankles again, he slowly looked at you to make sure nothing was on display. “Do you like it, Princess?” 

“I love it,” you looked back to the pond again, “I’ll have to go and get my supplies and begin painting right away, I haven’t been this inspired since my last project which was so long ago.” 

He could have cut you off in the middle of your sentence but he chose not to, “you won’t need to grab your supplies, your handmaid is on her way.” you found it charming that he let you talk, no one really did that before. 

“Thank you, Ser James.” you bowed. 

“If we are to be friends I hope you can call me by my name,” he leaned in with a smirk, “call me James, just James, and maybe one day you’ll call me Bucky.” 

“Who’s Bucky?” you laughed, covering your mouth as you giggled. 

“Still me,” he laughed as well, “just a different name for the same person.” 

Your fingers toyed together in front of you, something no lady should ever do. “I have a small request as well…”

“I am at your service, Princess.” James smiled and slightly bowed his head, thinking you were going to send him off or you were going to request the most abstract thing in the world. 

“I am not a Princess,” you spoke slowly and saw the way his brow creased, “I’m just a Lady, I’m Lady Y/N and I would prefer you’d call me that instead of Princess.” 

“Pardon my confusion,” he shook his head, “but how are you not a Princess?” 

“Because I am not set to marry,” your eyes flickered to his and expected him to laugh or begin to question who you really were. Women who were high-born are promised to marry someone before they are even born, Natasha was promised to marry Steve before she entered womanhood. 

“Pardon my confusion again,” he rubbed his forehead as his head continued to shake slightly, “but how on Earth are you not set to marry?” 

“Because I-...” your eyes moved over James’ shoulder to see Bellona, your handmaid walking up with your art supplies wrapped up in her arms, “I should help her,” you stepped past him but he caught your arm, his hands grasping around your forearm which was covered by silk, you could hear Bellone stop and gasp at the sight of a Knight gently holding your elbow. 

“We will finish this conversation, yes?” he was not mad, more concerned. His blue eyes flickered between yours to try and search for an answer, when he found nothing he slowly let your arm go, “pardon me for such aggression,” he whispered and wiped down the front of his tunic and chainmail though it was not creased. 

“You’re forgiven…” you paused, “James.” 

When you walked up to Bellona she was worried, having just seen a Knight grab your elbow, “do you need me to find-”

“I’m fine,” you smiled, “he’s a friend, don't worry,” you gathered the supplies and thanked her before turning back and setting up your easel so you could begin to paint. 

“It had been a great afternoon…” James smiled when you looked at him with a nod, “if you need anything, let me know, alright?” 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

“It is my duty, Lady Y/N.” 

EPISODE 3

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(21/30)

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[steliosagapitos]

                 The Tsar's Amethyst Gift.

   ~ “Queen Alexandra, a Danish princess, sister of the Tsarina of Russia Maria Feodorovna, wife of King Edward VII of Great Britain and grandmother of the present Queen Elizabeth II, loved amethysts. Tsar Alexander III gave this gem to his sister-in-law. The seven great Siberian amethysts were surrounded by diamonds, creating a phenomenal diadem. You have to admit that the result is amazing. She is often referred to as the Mysterious Queen Alexandra Tiara, a name that comes from the fact that there are no records or photographs to show that the tiara has ever been worn officially. The tiara was inherited by Queen Maud's granddaughter, Duchess of Southesk, and auctioned to Christies in 1946. Today it can be seen in the German museum. The Queen herself ordered a necklace to be worn with the tiara. It consists of 5 large, cut amethysts, in the shape of a hexagon, surrounded by diamonds, connected with each other by tear-shaped elements, also set with diamonds. The total weight of the diamonds is 23.5 carats. The binding is made of gold and silver. The necklace, if attached to a frame, can also be worn as a tiara.The necklace was also sold by Maud and from time to time appears at auctions changing hands.” ~

[writing-fanics]

[ Mamoru x Fem!Reader ]

Legend of the Forgotten Moon Princess

[Part II] [Part II.5]

a/n; im following both the anime and the manga, i have hulu and the sailor moon viz dub [aka the better dub] on dvd. so i have a lot of material to get inspo from. this chapter is following the first chapter of sailor moon manga and a bit of the second..] 

so i made a mistake its 'Lunar Prism Power make up!' 

[ Y/n ] gasped, looking at herself in the outfit. "Wha! What just happened?" She shouted, looking at the outfit in shock. 

"This must be some dream." She says, as she looks down at the sailor outfit. A cat appears at her doorway, looking at her. "I finally found you!" The cat says, causing the girl to yelp and fall to the ground. 

"W-who's there!?" She shouts, looking around and gasps. Seeing a black cat, with white spots covering its fur. She backs away. 

"D-Did you just speak?" She asks, looking at the cat who simply nods, and jumps onto the counter beside her. The cat smiles at her, 

"My name is, Atlas. And I've been searching far and wide for you." He says, and [Y/n] looks at him in shock. THis was too weird, to be happening this must be a dream. 

"You have been chosen as a guardian, you have a duty! To gather, your allies and defeat your enemies. Also, you must discover the location of our Princesses." He says, and she bites her lip looking at him. 

"P-Princesses? Enemies? Guardian!? What on earth is happening!?" She cries, looking down into her hands. This was too crazy, to bizarre. 

Atlas sighs,  "Let me see that necklace." He asks, and she looks up at him. And takes it off, and places it in front of him. She watches, as the crescent moon shape on his forehead began to glow. And it touches, the necklace. Turning it into a brooch, she gasps looking at it. 

"Wow!" She says, in amazement looking at it. She takes it, and sticks it on. "Now call out the words; Lunar Prism Power Make-Up!" He says, and she looks at him thinking for a moment. And nods, she takes a deep breath in and says, 

"Lunar Prism Power Make-Up."  She shouts, and is developed by a light emitting from the brooch that was once her necklace. As she transforms, into Sailor Luna. 

"You're the Sailor Guardian, Sailor Luna. Your mission is to find the other Sailor Guardians alongside Sailor Moon, and find our lost princesses." He says, and she looks at him. She jumps, as she heard screams. 

"Quick, Sailor Moon needs your help!" He says, and she looks at him nervously. And nods, as she run out of her apartment, going to the source of the screams. 

"Waa~ I can't take this, I'm going home!" Sailor Moon shouted, as the monster attacks her. It was about to strike her, when. 

'Lunar Beam!'  She heard, someone shout. A bright beam attacks the monster,  it becomes dazed for a bit. 

"What was that!" The monster, growls looking around. 

"It's wrong to attack girls, now you have to deal with me." [Y/n] says, jumping down in between Sailor Moon and the monster. 

"And who are you?" The monster growls, and [Y/n] smiles, 

"I'm the Sailor Guardian, Sailor Luna. Who fights for the moon and the stars." She says, and the monster laughs. 

"Well die!" The monster shouts, attacking [Y/n] who dodges, Sailor Moon still on the ground crying. [Y/n] sees this, 

"Could, use a little help here!" She shouts, at her and Sailor Moon looks up at her scared. 

"B-But.." Sailor Moon whimpers, scared shaking. And she burst into tears, causing [Y/n] to groan, she gasps as the monster grabs her by the neck. She groans, as she tries to pull the monster's hands off of her neck. [Y/n] groaned, 

'Waxing Crescent!'  [Y/n] shouted, as she attacked the monster she falls to the ground gasping for air. She sighs, she stands up quickly. it grabs her, by the leg and throws her at the wall. She groans in pain, and gasps seeing that it was about to attack Sailor Moon. 

"Sailor Moon, look out!" [Y/n] shouted, then a rose came down in front of Sailor Moon and a figure appeared at the windshield. 

"Quit crying, It's your time to act! Now, Sailor Moon." Tuxedo Mask, said to her and She looks at him, and [Y/n] looks at him in shock. 

"Now! Sailor Moon shout. Moon Tiara Action!" Luna shouts, at her and Sailor Moon now with new found confidence grabs the tiara at the top of her head, and shouts.  

'Moon Tiara Action!'  she shouts, it attacks the monster. And the monster fades away. 

[Y/n] stands up, groaning in pain. Wrapping her arm around her waist, she stands up and walks towards Sailor Moon.

"Good job!" [Y/n] says, to her but Sailor Moon wasn't listening she was more focused on Tuxedo Mask. As he leaves out the window, he looks back at the girls. As she looked at him,  it felt so familiar he seemed so familiar. She watches as he leaves, and looks down. She leaves, leaving Sailor Moon there looking around for her. 

Once she got further away, she hid behind a building and turned back into her normal clothes. And walked into her apartment complex, she made her way up to her apartment wincing every now and then at her now bruised side. 

As she walks towards her apartment, she trips and, and Mamoru who by coincidence, catches her in his arms. She groans, and looks up and gasps. Seeing Mamoru, she blushes, quickly pulls away embarrassed. She bows at him, "S-Sorry." She says, then walks pass him and towards her apartment. 

She enters, her apartment. And falls onto her couch she groans in pain, at the pain in her side. She lifts her shirt, and sees a bruise. She sighs, Atlas walks over towards her. 

"Why didn't you stay!? You and Sailor Moon need to work together." Atlas says, to her and she groans in annoyance. She looks, at him. 

"Ugh, give me a break. My life has changed forever. And, I can't just work with a girl who I don't know." She says, falling back onto the couch. She groans, in pain once more. 

"Eventually, don't worry I'll work with her just give me sometime to wrap my head around this." She says, yawning. As her eyelids, become heavier until they close. And she falls asleep, Atlas jumps up onto the couch. 

"Fine, but tomorrow we need to find out who she is." He says, as he lays next to her on the couch falling asleep as well. 

[ Flashback ] ' 

"M-Mommy?" [Y/n] cried, sniffling holding; her now destroyed Prince Endymion plush. [M/n] came around the corner, and gasped seeing her daughter standing there. With mud all over her face, and clothes. Her Endymion plush, ripped to shreds. 

"Oh, sweetie what happened?" She asked, walking over towards her daughter bending down to her level. Her daughter looked up at her, and whimpered. 

"T-they bullied me, they said that Y/n and Endymion aren't real. And that it's just some stupid story.." She cried, tears running down her cheeks. 

"I-I told them; That it is real, and Endymion and Y/n are real. And I was gonna prove it, a-and so they pushed me and called me a baby. A-and." She whimpered, showing her mother the destroyed plush.

"T-they hurt him! Mommy they hurt Endymion!" She sobbed, her mother wrapped her arms around her daughter picking her up not caring about getting mud on the floor, or getting mud on herself. She carried her up the stairs, and into the bathroom. 

"It's okay sweetie, those people are just jealous that they don't know the story. And for Endymion, don't worry I'll fix him up good as new." [M/n] says, taking Endymion from her daughter and placing him by the sink. She takes off her daughters clothes, and begins to wash her. 

"Mommy?'" {y/n] says, looking up at her mother, her face red and puffy. 

"Yes sweetie?" [M/n] says, and [Y/n] looks up at him.

[Y/n] looks down blushing, he mother chuckled. "Was there someone, who stood up for you?" She asks, and [Y/n] looks at her mother and blushes. 

"N-No.." [Y/n] says, nervously. Her mother giggles, as she scrubs her back. 

"What's their name?" She asks, [Y/n] looks up at her and looks down.

"M-Mamoru.." {y/n} says, blushing looking down making a pouty face. 

"Oh, Mamoru.. Maybe we should invite his family over for dinner." [m/n] says, causing y/n to shake her head. 

"Ah, but I'm sure the two of you would be cute." she says, and y/n splashed water in her mothers face causing her to stop talking she, looks at y/n. 

Who yelps, [M/n] then splashes water into her daughter's face, causing her to giggle and laugh. That was the day before, Mamoru lost his parents losing his memories in the process. 

[Y/n] never saw him, again after that. 

[ ended ] ......

[Y/n] sighed, as she ate breakfast, she sits at her table drinking some coffee. Atlas, walks over towards her and jumps up onto the table, 

"Today, we must find out the identity of Sailor Moon and work with her." He says, and she groans and rolls her eyes, setting her coffee back onto the table. 

"Atlas, listen to me. I still have things I need to do in the morning like today, I have to go to my university for school. Since I called off for today, being an assistant teacher. And I need to go grocery shopping, I'll try to fit in in okay." She says, taking a sip of her coffee.

She stands up, and yelps in pain as her side accidentally hits the table. She places her hand, on her side. And groans, Atlas looks at her worried. "Are you okay?" He asks, and she simply nods. 

"Yeah, just a bit scuffed up from last night." She says, looking down grabbing the dishes off the table and, putting on her shoes. And was about to leave her apartment, she hears that voice again. 

'You're the only one for me, my star.'  

She sighs, leaving the apartment leaving Atlas there alone. She walks down the hallway to the elevator, and sighs 

[Y/n} smiles, as she looks at Mamoru, "Yeah, my day to day life is always busy." She says, looking down, groaning a bit. She looks back up at him, "But, I do my best to work hard." She says, taking a sip of her drink. 

"I actually graduated high school, when I was 14."  She says, looking down nervously. 

"Wow really?" He asks, and she looks up at him and nods. 

"Yeah, a-after I lost my mom. I was a complete wreck, I was depressed. I was in an accident later, and lost most of my memory. I barely remembered my mom, and when I do remember her its, all false and jumbled up. So to not be a burden, I wanted to be left alone, so instead of talking to anyone. I dedicated myself to studying, I worked my butt off." She says,  looking down. 

"I'm sorry to hear that." He says, looking at her sadly and, she shakes her head. 

"N-No it's okay. I happened so long ago I really try not to remember much, about her cause.... When I do, I just.." She shakes her head, and smiles at Mamoru. 

"Nevermind." She says, sighing looking down at the ground, she then looks up and sees a crumpled up piece of paper hit Mamoru on the head. 

He grabs it, and looks up and sees Usagi. "Hey! You, Bun-head! i'm not a trash can you know." He says, to her and [Y/n] just stands there, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Ah! Ohh, you're that guy from before." Usagi says, in shock looking at him.

"Hello, Ms.Tsukino." [Y/n] says, to Usagi, who was holding a black cat, Luna. Who looked at the girl curiously, Usagi looks at [Y/n].

"O-oh, Ms.Y/n! I-I didn't see you at school today." Usagi says, to her. And [Y/n] simply smiles,

"Yeah, I-I wasn't feeling well, and I-I had personal issues to attend to but. But don't worry I'll be back tomorrow." [Y/n] says, smiling at her. 

"Wait, the two of you know each-other." Mamoru asks, and [Y/n] nods at him.

"Yep, I'm an assistant teacher in her class." She says, to him.  

"oh, that's good. Then Bun-head can get more help." He says, and  Usagi growls. [Y/n] chuckles, a bit at this. 

"My name! isn't bun-head." Usagi shouts, walking away mumbling to herself while holding onto Luna. 

"Usagi? Who was that girl?" Luna asks, looking up at her. Usagi looks down, at Luna. 

"Oh, that's the assistant teacher in my class. Her name is Y/n L/n." She says, as she walks towards the Crystal Seminar to investigate more about Ami. 

"Thanks for today, Mamoru I enjoyed talking to you." [Y/n] says, bowing at him. 

"your welcome, I'm happy I got to know a bit more about you." He says, causing her to look down and blush. She looks back towards her, university gate. 

"W-Well see you later." She says, as she walks into her university campus. 

[Time Skip] brought to you by laziness/ and sailor moon already finding sailor mercury cause my dumbass is too lazy to write it.... 

[Y/n] sighs, as she makes her way back home to her apartment. As she did, she felt as if someone was following her. So she turned around, and saw Usagi's cat following her. 

"Aren't you, Usagi's cat." She says, looking at it curiously she sees the crescent moon shape on its forehead as well. 

"Hmm, you have the same crescent moon shape that Atlas does." She says, curiously. She bends down, and gets a closer look at it. 

"If your Usagi's cat, and you have a crescent moon shape on your head. Then..." She gasps, thinking about it and putting two and two together. She looks down at the cat, 

"She must be Sailor Moon." She says, quietly. The cat looks at her in shock, and speaks. 

"You're smarter than I thought.." Luna says, and [Y/n] smiles at her and shrugs her shoulders. 

"Well, I guessed it wasn't that hard. To think about-..Wait..what is that supposed to mean!" She shouts, looking down at Luna. 

"Listen, we've already found Sailor Mercury, Ami Mizuno. And no we found you, Sailor Luna.. We must find the other Sailor Guardians and our lost princesses." Luna says, to Y/n who sighs and rolls her eyes. 

"I know, I know." She says, looking down. 

"We need all the help we can get." Luna says, to her and [Y/n] nods, sighing. 

"Alright, I'll help find the Sailor Guardians. After school tomorrow." She says, and Luna nods. Making her way, back to Usagi's house. [Y/n] sighs, and makes her way back home to her apartment. As she walks into the elevator, and bumps into the side bars. 

She yelps, in pain. "D-damn it, I forgot about that." She says, groaning placing her hand on her side. She pushes, the button for her level. And stands there, waiting for it to go up. Once she arrives, on her floor she steps off. And walks towards her apartment, but not of course before bumping into Mamoru. 

Causing her to groan, holding onto her still bruised side, He turns around and sees her holding her side. 

"Whoa, are you okay?" He asks, her and she looks up at him and nods. 

"Y-Yeah, I bumped into a corner in my apartment and it gave me a bruise. Don't worry I'm fine." She says, lying. It hurt like hell, she wasn't fine everytime she moved it hurt so much. She moves passed him, and towards her apartment. 

She walks in and throws, her bag onto the counter and sits on her couch. And groans, she looks down at the wound, that seemed to be getting worse and worse. It was never going to heal, if she kept bumping into people. As she looked at the bruise a memory came back, one she wanted to forget. 

She was adopted into a family, who were abusive really abusive. She doesn't talk to them anymore, but the memories of them still haunt her to this very day. She made her way to her bedroom, and laid down on her bed tired and exhausted. She yawns,  as she closes her eyes and falls asleep. 

'Please you, must keep it a secret.' 

'I love him so much, and I know it's forbidden.' 

'What if he's using you?' 

The faceless girl shakes her head, and looks at the girl in front of her. 

'That's not like him, he'd never do anything like that. He loves me, I can see it in his eyes.' 

'But...I'm worried about you. I don't want to see you hurt.' 

The girl takes, the other girls hands into hers and smiles.

'You won't he promises to protect me.' 

'He asked me to be his princess.' 

'What?!' 

The girl nods, smiling excitedly. 

'I said yes!" 

"I love him so much.' the girl sighs, looking up at the stars. 

"My...''

[Y/n] wakes up and, groans. She sits up in her bed and, looks out the window. She sighs and, stands up. Walking towards the bathroom, she takes off her clothes and, gets into the shower. As she washes, she looks down and, notices that the bruise is gone. 

"What!" She shouts, in shock looking down at her side. Seeing that it was gone...

[Time-Skip] after finding Sailor Mars Rei im a lazy ass bitch bitch bitch and to the ball for princess D

{Y/n's Ball Dress] 

[Y/n] gasps, as someone bumps into her spilling wine all over it. 

"Oh, excuse me." The lady says, and [Y/n] looks at the dress. She quickly tries to find the nearest bathroom,  but she couldn't find one. She looks down, at the dress her mother left her. The one time she wears it, it gets ruined. 

"My pretty young princess." She heard a voice say, then she was suddenly pulled into someone embrace, it was Tuxedo Mask. She gasped, in shock as the two began to dance, 

"would you honor me with one dance?" He says, she looks at him in shock. No way Tuxedo Mask could be here, this must be some dream. She smiles at him, and stares into his eyes.