@frncescabkem

Medieval Era. 🏰

Francesca was the youngest child of the royal house—the wild one, the untamable flame that no courtly tutor or governess had ever been able to extinguish. While her elder brother had abandoned his claim to the throne, scandalizing the court by choosing a common-born maiden over duty, and her sister was already betrothed to a foreign prince, destined to be queen of another land, Francesca remained the last in line.

Narnia.

The snow still clung to the edges of the forest, though spring’s breath had begun to thaw the land. From the high balcony of Cair Paravel, the young princess watched the sea crash against the cliffs, restless as her own heart. She was daughter of Narnia, yet at times she felt like a stranger within her own crown.

Malfoy’s Prisoner

Ten years after hogwarts war. Draco was the new minister of magic and his ex wife, Astoria died. He was cold and mean. In one case in particular, he found himself locking Grinderwald’s daughter in the dungeon, but not killing her, for some reason no one could ever knew.

the fuck-list (longer)

After practice, all the boys gathered in the lockers. Some showered, and others just changed. Every year, the Slythering Quidditch players made a list of the most beautiful girls at Hogwarts. Whoever slept with the top 1, won 500 Galleons.

First Week Being a Nott.

An arranged marriage would make both families more powerful, rich and famous. Isn’t it? well… only when the ones who are getting married can stand each other or aren’t trying to evade each other living under the same roof.

Teenage Dirtbag.

She appeared out of nowhere — another pure-blood name whispered through the halls, another Slytherin face I was supposed to care about. Belle Baudelaire.

the work wife

In the polished world of corporate power and public image, silence speaks louder than words. When a perceptive assistant steps into the inner circle of a powerful heir, lines blur—not through scandal, but through understanding. This is a story about reputation, restraint, and the quiet tension between what is seen and what is felt.

searching for enid.

Nevermore stood hollow during the break. The hallways, usually alive with laughter, arguments, or whispers, had turned into silent corridors, dimly lit by the cold glow of the moon. Among all the students, only one remained: Millie.

the apocalypse is worse with you in it.

The world had long since stopped smelling of fresh rain or warm bread. Now the air reeked of rust, dried blood, and smoke—as if the earth itself had surrendered. Francesca knew it better than most: survival meant accepting that stench, and yet, every night, when she curled up beside the others in the half-collapsed building they called home, she pretended the silence meant safety.

Wildest Dreams. — Dm.

You were part of the gold-trio. Once at 6th year, in a holiday in the Weasley’s house, you went to the bathroom and Harry found a diary in your stuff.

Nicolás Leister | Culpa Mía, Escena del auto

El silencio dentro del coche era tan denso que casi se podía cortar con un cuchillo. Francesca miraba por la ventana, intentando ignorar la forma en que Nicolás apretaba el volante. El sonido de su respiración, el golpe de la lluvia contra el cristal, todo parecía amplificar el enfado que flotaba en el aire.

The fuck List.

After practice, all the boys gathered in the lockers. Some showered, and others just changed. Every year, the Slythering Quidditch players made a list of the most beautiful girls at Hogwarts. Whoever slept with the top 1, won 500 Galleons.