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deadsetobsessions · 2 months

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Alley Drunk!Danny AU- Part 3

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4]

“Have you considered anger management classes?”

The Batman turned sharply, cape flaring out as he raised his weary fists in preparation for another fight. Only to pause, as he caught sight of a bedraggled man leaning against the pockmarked, water worn, Gotham variety stone of the abandoned post office. Non-hostile. Scent of booze, not strong enough to be fresh, but prominent enough for him to clock the stranger as a habitual drinker. Young. Sympathy softened Batman’s stance. Still, Batman kept his guard up. Good thing Robin was benched, he was off his game today if he hadn’t noticed the young man.

“Nevermind. You run around as a bat. Clearly anger management classes aren’t on your to do list.”

“What do you want.”

He’s young. Not as young as Robin, but… enough that it made Batman gentle his approach. The young man pushed away from his spot, fearlessly slouching towards him. Casual. Unafraid. How curious. Even Gothamites were wary around him, correctly assuming and witnessing his takedowns of Gotham’s Underbelly.

“You do this a lot, don’t you?” The bedraggled young man asked, head tilted neutrally at the bodies strewn around the Batman.

“Hm.”

“Why do you never swing by Crime Alley?”

Batman’s guard faltered at the blunt question, but he regained it quickly.

“I do.”

“You don’t.” The man disagreed amiably. He reached down towards the victims but Batman grabbed his arm in an iron hold before he could rifle through their belongings. The young man laughed and pulled back agreeably. “Is it classism, why you avoid us? The poor isn’t good enough to deserve protection from Gotham’s knight?”

“No. I do this for Gotham. All of Gotham.”

“…Well, there’s always room for improvement, I guess?”

The stranger pulled back and broke Batman’s hold, which had the vigilante sharply focusing onto the man. The stranger was strong, despite how skinny and starved he looked. Few people could casually break his hold and tonight, he added one more to the tally.

“You should tell your sponsor to look into creating job opportunities in Crime Alley. The problem isn’t actually the crooks,” the man told the vigilante, gesturing around them. “That’s just the symptoms. The actual problem is the poverty.”

“I know.”

“And yet, you still avoid Crime Alley.”

“Who are you.”

The man began walking away, throwing a dry “The Crime Alley Drunk, apparently,” behind his shoulder. When Batman took to the roofs to track him, the man had thoroughly slipped away.

“Agent A, did you catch that?”

“Yes, Batman. It appears you’ve gotten the wool pulled over your cowl by a rather mysterious youngster.”

Batman heard a younger snort of laughter. Robin. Who was supposed to be doing homework.

“Please stop making fun of me.” Batman sighed half heartedly.

“Not on your life, B.” Robin chirped.

——

“Ya talked ta Batman?!” Jason crowed at him, excited. Danny had done as promised and met him at the chili dog stand at the correct time, which increased his credibility in Jason’s eyes.

“Sure did. He knocked out like, five guys by himself. It was pretty cool.”

“Fuckin’ woah.”

“Right?” Danny smiled tiredly at the kid. He stayed up all night to pull his shit together, and outright bought an apartment for them to stay in. That safe had a lot of cash, after all. “Come on, kid. We’re heading back to base but before that, we gotta pick up a few things.”

“Like what?” Jason asked suspiciously.

“Like curtains in the color you like, groceries, and blankets and bedding, and general cleaning stuff.” Danny ticked off a finger per item.

“We killin’ someone?”

“What? No!”

“Ya said general cleaning stuff!” Jason defended himself. The raggedy kid peered at Danny cautiously, and brightened when Danny only snorted in amusement.

“Oh my ancients, you Gothamites. No, those are for like, actual cleaning. You know, for the apartment I just got you.”

Danny missed the burn of booze, but when Jason looked at him like the child he’s supposed to be had Gotham’s streets never laid its claim on him, Danny didn’t want to fail the kid.

Even if the kid thought he was buying chemicals to clean up a body. He’s the son of two mad scientists, he knows how to get rid of a body, obviously. As if he’d need chemicals to begin with, honestly. His ghost powers are quite versatile.

“An apartment?”

“Yep. It’s shitty, but it’s got all the utilities and I kind of miss having warm water to shower with.”

Jason straightened and trotted alongside the Alley Drunk with a little more purpose. People avoided them. Danny lead the kid to the apartment, handing him a key and letting him explore the sparsely decorated place.

“So, first thing’s first. You go shower. Then, we’ll go shopping for clothes, register you for school, get your school supplies, and grab some lunch. Not necessarily in that order, but ya know. And cleaning supplies.” Danny grinned.

Jason whipped his head around from where he was closely inspecting the windows for insulation- like Danny would let the actual kid live somewhere with drafty windows- and spluttered. Hope, fear, uncertainty battled across Jason’s face as he tried to say something. Danny watched Jason open and close his mouth several times before he finally managed to whisper something.

“I- I c’n go to school?”

“Yes. You are, in fact, legally required to do so, Jason.”

A pause as the kid grapples with the idea, of something he didn’t think he’d ever get to do. A grin bloomed over his face as he realized Danny’s sincerity.

“Then what are we waitin’ for?!”

“For you to shower. C’mon grubby, the shower’s that way. Towels are in the cabinet, and there’s some extra clothes in here,” Danny tossed Jason the plastic bag of clean kid’s clothes he bought from Gotham’s version of Walmart, a store that somehow had the energy of a Tesco and a Denny’s parking lot.

“Fuc- I mean- yeah! On it!”

——

Clearing out the drafts- feel free to continue ^^

#me the entire time writing this: Justice! for Gotham! Batman needs to go back to the batcave!#alley drunk Danny #danny phantom #batman #bruce wayne #dc x dp #dcxdp #jason todd #bamf danny phantom #Danny: Batman u got issues #alfred Pennyworth #alley drunk! Danny AU

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talaok · 3 months

Note

i loved the hickey fic🥵

can i request a role reversal fic?

reader marks up joel and is unashamed about it

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

a/n: thank you love, hope you'll like this although its been so long you probably forgot about this. and if you're interested, this is the fic they were referring to

It was just you and Ellie in the kitchen this morning. You were laughing about another funny dream she had last night, this one involving Joel trying to tame a gigantic sheep so he could ride it or something, she didn't quite remember the purpose, not that it mattered.

But as you both quite literally felt on the verge of tears from the image the dream was painting in your minds, the main character of said dream, appeared in the doorway, throwing you both a dirty look as if watching two of the three people he loved the most in this entire world didn't fill his old heart with pure joy.

"It's too early to be this chipper" he grumbled, walking to you to leave a quick kiss on your cheek as he reached for the coffee pot behind you.

A gasp sounded from the other sound of the counter

"oh my god what happened to your neck?!"

And it was then, that Joel Miller, the unafraid, stone-cold killer of a man that he was, turned red from hairline to neck.

"O-Oh fuck I-" His eyes widened, his hand going to cover your work on his neck, but it was all useless, because the second Ellie's eyes landed on the smirk plastered on your face, she knew.

"oh my god ew" she groaned, rolling her eyes, her focus going back to the eggs on her plate.

"You remember Janine, that woman I told you about?" you explained, talking to her

She laughed at that, remembering your conversation about that woman who's always flirting with Joel.

"you filled Joel's neck with hickeys because of her?"

Joel wasn't even red anymore, he was turning purple, his eyes were wider than a deer's caught in the headlights, and you suspected he hadn't taken a breath since he first entered the kitchen.

"this..." you smiled, trailing your fingers on Joel's neck "is my own little way of telling her to keep her hands off my man"

Joel choked, he literally choked on his own saliva and just then, just when he was about to have a heart attack, Tommy entered the house, his eyes immediately going to the image before him with more than a little amusement.

"What have I walked into?" he grinned, walking over to the kitchen "And why does my brother look a breath away from exploding?" he laughed, his hands gesturing to Joel.

"y/n here was giving me way too much information that I certainly didn't want to know" Ellie explained, looking at you pointedly for the last part of her sentence, making you chuckle.

"About what?" Tommy asked

"About the work of art I left on your brother's neck"

"wha-Ohhh" he breathed, smiling like a smug bastard as he understood what you were talking about "Janine tried something again I presume?"

"You presume right" you smiled, giving Joel a little kiss on the cheek and stifling a smile at how terrified he seemed "for the last time"

"You ok baby?" you asked, stroking his cheek

His gaze was on Ellie, his mouth parted in shock.

"You still with us man?" she asked, giggling softly, making him shake his head to try and get his mind to start working again.

And then, then the words came tumbling off his tongue, filled with what sounded like pure panic

"S-since when do you know what a hickey is!?"

Everyone in the room except him laughed, but when the shock on his features persisted, and Ellie regained her composure, she answered.

"I'm not a kid Joel, I know what sex is"

Another pang to his poor heart,

he felt all the organs inside him twist into a knot

what the fuck was happening?

Did she just say-

"sex!?" he cried, looking a second away from having a mental breakdown "I-I never said sex- H-how do you even know- I- You- You're too young- I-I"

"ok ok ok" you tried your best not to chuckle, intervening before his heart really decided to stop "How 'bout we go outside for a moment huh? Take a few deep breaths? How about that?" you murmured, soothingly drawing circles on his back

He looked at you then, looking every bit as disheveled as he sounded

"y-yeah" he swallowed thickly, "I-I think that's a good idea"

He looked back at Ellie for a moment to make sure this wasn't a nightmare and he didn't just make that up, before you both left the room.

And as if on cue, the second you did, Tommy and Ellie started laughing like maniacs.

"I don't think I've ever seen him so scared" Ellie laughed, as Tommy sat next to her, patting her back

"Neither have I" he chuckled, none of them saying anything before an idea came to his mind.

a hell of a funny one

"ten bucks if you tell him you know what porn is"

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fairysluna · 4 months

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the wolf's cage.

After being captured by the Northerns, you found yourself with the Lord of Winterfell whose strange politeness makes you doubt his true intentions.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Wildling!Reader.

TAGS — smut (p in v, m!oral, spanking, use of the word whore, face fucking, hate sex(?, dirty talk, degrading/praise, belly bulge), cursing, mentions of war, blood and bruises, kind of enemies to lovers, dilf!cregan, and idk if this counts as dark!cregan but I'll add it just in case. If something is missing let me know!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — it's the first time that i write smut after a very long time, and i wrote this in a rush, so it's not perfect but i loved it anyway bc i fell in love with this trope. Reader is loosely based on Osha from GoT. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED.

WORD COUNT — 5.3k. (oh damn)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

“We found her close to the Godswood,” one of the men said. “She was hiding and preparing herself to kill, my lord.”

Cregan walked slightly closer to you, his curiosity peaking when he noticed how small you looked curled up in a corner of your cell, covered by thick pieces of fur. Your face was stained with dirt and dried blood. His men had told him you were a menace, but after looking at you, he didn't believe it.

“She seems harmless,” he pointed out, kneeling beside you.

“She is not, my lord. She's responsible for the death of three of our men,” the same man explained. They were all in combat position; holding the hilt of their swords just in case you would dare to attack their leader. Cregan, however, seemed to be unafraid, getting closer to you and trying to see more of you. He was certainly intrigued.

How was a young girl like you able to kill a group of ruthless men?

He raised his hand and gently pulled a strand of your hair out of your face; he saw a scar on your cheek and a cut on your lip. Then, you met his eyes with yours. Your cold and mercenary haze did little to intimidate him. You were finally in the presence of the man you hated the most; the man who had killed your people in cold blood. He could see your wrath burning through your haze, and he understood it.

With his thumb, he removed the drop of blood that was dripping from your lip — a soft touch that felt so foreign to your skin. He attempted to do it again, but you moved your face away and he knew it was enough. With a sigh, he stood up casting a large shadow over your smaller frame; you looked down at the floor, ignoring his penetrating stare on you before he turned around and walked out of the cell.

“Tell a maid to give her a bath, then bring her to the dining room,” he ordered.

“My lord, I don't think-”

“Tell the cooks to make a meal for two, and tell a maid to keep Rickon out of my room tonight,” he abruptly interrupted him, the guard was left in surprise.

“I beg your pardon, my lord, but I do not think it’s a good idea at all,” The maester advised him, talking in whispers so you would not hear a word. “I believe that being in a room alone with that savage would put your life at risk. We cannot afford that, not when we're in the middle of an imminent war.”

Cregan turned to give one more look at you before one of the guards locked your cell again. You looked so fragile, and you were probably starving after spending days in the merciless Winter cold. He knew you would not be such a threat in such a condition, so he did not follow his loyal Maester’s advice.

“The decision has been made,” he spoke as he started to walk away from the dungeons. The old man quickly followed his pace.

“I would advise you to make some double thinking about your decision-”

“Are you questioning my methods?” His voice came out low and slow, but it carried a bit of an intimidating undertone that was easy to catch. The Maester took a step back when his superior turned around; his Lordship was an imposing man, tall and with wide shoulders and some grey eyes that would pierce through your soul. Lord Stark was a kindhearted man, but whenever he was angry he was unrecognisable.

And the Maester trembled when he saw a small glimpse of his anger.

“Of course not, but it is my duty as your advisor to give you the best options… risking your life it's certainly not.”

“That girl is craving for a meal, I will not let her starve,” he grunted. “Besides, I might steal some valuable information from her. She's just a girl, and she's unarmed. She will do no harm.”

The old man simply nodded, knowing that it was a lost battle and not having the guts to continue to defy his lord. Cregan cleared his throat, repeated the instructions and then turned around to leave his men behind. They shared confused looks, doubting his plan and how unusual it was for him to have mercy with the people of your kind. This new and sudden sympathy towards you raised suspicion among the northern guards, but they were all too afraid to speak up.

They just obeyed the orders of their Lord.

Cregan was tapping his fingertips against the table, patiently waiting for your arrival as he was blankly staring at his half-empty cup of wine. The only sound that was heard was coming from the fireplace, and the rest of the room was deadly silent. He was wondering how much time would it take for you to arrive when two guards opened the door, and two others were carrying you inside. They were grabbing your arms, tight enough to leave a bruise behind. Cregan stood up the instant you showed up, and, with a slight nod from him, you were freed from their grip.

Lord Stark took the time to look at you, shamelessly glancing at every inch of your body. He noticed how your skin was glowing now, freed of any stain or impureness on your face, except for that scar on your cheekbone that seemed to be quite recent. Regardless of that, you were such a sight for his eyes, so pretty and young and fierce all the same. The glow in your eyes was still yelling your hate for him and, somehow, that would make you even more appealing to him. He followed the trail down your neck and found your bossom being squeezed by the dress which looked a bit too small for you, but that fit your body like a glove; shaping your curves and enhancing them, he had to take a deep breath after seeing you.

All the beauty that was previously hidden under thick layers of clothes and dirty hair and face was now starting to show.

“You can leave now,” he indicated to the guards. They nodded and followed his orders immediately.

Once they were alone, Cregan pointed at the chair on the other side of the table, inviting you to take a seat. You were reluctant, staring at the large amount of food with distrust; you thought this was a trap, no one ever invites their foes to supper. You did not obey him at first, standing still in your place, using a pair of borrowed shoes that were almost crushing your feet and making you feel like walking on burning coal.

You knew one thing for sure; you needed to get out of there as soon as you could. Or, better yet, you had to kill that man.

“Please, be seated,” he spoke so softly and politely that you could not believe it. It was so blatantly obvious. “The pork it's better when it's warm.”

A glance at the table and you saw your plate already served; this did nothing but increase your mistrust. However, you walked towards the spot, slowly and with your guard up. The sound of your shoes clacking on the wooden floor as you made your way to your seat until you finally sat.

Then, a silence fell over the room. Cregan's eyes seemed to never look away from you as he raised his cup and brought it to his lips. You nervously played with your cup, already filled with wine.

“I gave myself the liberty to fill your cup,” he said.

Besides that, your plate was full of beans, pork, carrots and mashed potatoes. Everything was already cut into tiny pieces, and only then did you realize you only had a spoon; no knife, and no fork.

“Is wine not of your taste?” Cregan asked after your long silence. “Would you rather have some ale? or juice?”

Nothing came out of your mouth. Cregan was losing his little patience, but he knew better and he stayed calm. Upsetting you would only make things worse.

“You might be wondering why I spared your life today,” he started, attempting a two-sided conversation. “If you were any other, your head would be in a spike by now… but you might be useful for us.” He made a pause, sipping his wine so delicately and manly. Then he added, “For me.”

Again, no answer.

“I believe you have valuable information that would help us to understand your people better,” he explained, trying to sound likeable and friendly, even giving you a warm smile. “Maybe that way we'll understand your reasons.”

“Why would I give information to the one who's murdering my people?” You finally spoke.

Cregan heard your thick northern accent and a smile was drawn on his face. He hid the gesture by grabbing his fork and knife and cutting a piece of meat before putting it inside his mouth. You realized that contrary to you, he had a knife; you wondered how you could reach it without him noticing.

“Ah, so you can speak,” he claimed, cheerfully. “For a moment I thought you were mute.”

“I am not,” you grunted.

“You could stop an imminent war, you know?” He continued the previous conversation. “Save the lives of your people, avoid a bloodbath.”

“You are the only one causing those things, my lord,” the mocking tone in your voice when you uttered the last two words was obvious. “This war carries your name.”

“You are the ones taking over our lands,” he debated.

“We're escaping,” you snapped. “You have no idea what's beyond that wall. You and your men would do the same in our position.”

“And what is it that's up there with all of you?”

“You wouldn't believe my words. You'll have to see it.”

He hummed, not convinced at all. He leaned back on his chair.

“How did you get that scar on your face? It looks quite recent,” he slightly narrowed his eyes.

“An accident while climbing the wall,” you simply explained, not wanting to give out too many details.

“When did you cross it?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“And what have you been doing all this time?”

“I already told you… trying to survive.”

Cregan clicked his tongue, sipping his wine once more and letting the topic go. “You haven't touched your food,” he pointed out. “Nor your wine. The cooks work hard on this food.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“It's not poisoned,” he let you know as if you would believe his mere words. “If I ever kill you it wouldn't be with a drop of venom, that it's not an honourable way to murder your opponent.”

“Honour,” you repeated with a mocking tone.

“Does that word sound funny to you?”

“It does when it's you saying it,” you muttered, clenching your jaw. “You have the blood of innocents in your hands, you have no honour.”

The tense environment was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Soon, a small child entered the room and ran towards Cregan; it was his son, his spitting image standing right next to him. His weakness. You looked closely, and you noticed how Lord Stark's demeanour was briefly replaced by a softer one when he held his child in his arms, only to get angry again when one of the maids walked in rushing behind the boy. You were observant, and then quickly an idea of escape lighted up your mind.

“I apologize, Lord Stark,” the maid murmured, shaking and breathing unevenly. “Little Rickon wanted to say goodnight and he ran away from his chambers-”

“Don't let it happen again,” he stopped her before she could go on with her explanations that were of little interest to his Lordship. “Just take him to bed, and don't let this happen again.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He kissed the child's forehead and hugged him one last time before the maid pulled his arm and took him away. The boy was looking back at his sire with saddened eyes as he walked, and once he was out of sight, Cregan was back to his tough facade. However, you knew new information, and now you knew exactly how to manage to escape.

“Was that your child?”

“Indeed,” he nodded.

“Beyond the wall, children are taught to fight and hunt from a very young age,” you randomly told him. “Does he know how to do that?”

“He's still learning.”

“How old is he?”

“We are not here to talk about my child,” he snapped, growing impatient with each passing second.

You stopped, only for a brief second to let it rest and prepare yourself for the next thing. The suddenness of your next question left him speechless.

“Where's his mother?” You noticed how he tensed, clenching his jaw and forming a fist with his hand. There it is. “Is she around?”

His silence gave you the answer you were expecting, you had to hold back a smile.

“Let me guess,” you murmured, “Childbirth?”

His fist smacked against the table and you noticed how all the plates jumped due to the impact. He stood up, fuming, all the kindness and politeness vanishing from his body as he lost his patience with you. Yet, you did not seem fazed by his roughness, you barely flinched. You stood up too and slowly started to walk around the table, to get closer to him.

“I bet your nights might be lonely now that you've lost your wife,” A false tone of empathy was heard in your voice as you kept taking step after step. “Does your bed feel empty at night?”

“That's enough,” he growled.

“You dressed me, bathed me and fed me… perhaps you're trying to convince me to stay by your side,” you deduced, using your seduction skills to distract him from the fact that you were getting closer to the knife on the table. “Is this your intention? To make me yours? To turn me into your whore?” Your voice lowered itself a few tones, getting raspier and more seductive.

You reached his side, his eyes were stuck on your face as his breathing was starting to get faster with each second. You saw his jaw, sharp as the knife you were trying to grab, and tensed as he tried to hide his growing arousal. Of course, he has noticed your attributes before, and of course, he had secretly —and shamelessly— fantasized about ripping your dress to see what was underneath, but now your words would only make his struggle grow.

Perhaps the Maester was right. Perhaps this was a bad idea.

“Have you heard what they say about the women from the Free Folk?” You were teasing him, boldly raising your hands until they went to his thick coat and untied it; it fell around his leather shoes, and only a thin shirt was beneath it. Your eyes glanced at him, noticing the chest hair on his skin as your hands felt the hardness of his abdomen; years of training with the sword had certainly made its effect. “People say we're difficult to handle, but that we fuck like goddesses. Wouldn't you want to try it out?”

One of your hands travelled lower and lower until it was able to feel the shape of his growing cock in your palm and through his pants. A winning smile appeared on your lips. His growing lust did not allow him to see the moment when your hand took the knife. Luckily for him, his reflexes were quite fast, and he was able to stop your hand right before you almost stabbed his neck. Your eyes widened as he grabbed your wrist and turned your body around, slamming you against the table. He pressed himself against you, your dress now ruined with the food beneath your frame.

Cregan's hand grabbed a big portion of your hair and pulled it back, roughly, forcing you to arch your back. You could not help but whimper due to the pain in your skull. His breathing soon reached your neck and caused shivers down your spine; it smelled like wine.

“You little whore,” he mocked you, “you thought you could've killed me?”

His voice was completely different to the one you have heard before; it was almost like a growl, so deep, slow and hoarse. You would be lying if you said you did not find it amusing. His touch was rough and lacking the gentleness and delicacy that it had hours ago when he wiped the blood off of your lip.

“It was worth the try,” you breathed out, laughing at him when you felt his arousal pressing against your arse.

“What's so funny, huh?” he grunted, pulling you harder and making you hum. “I could kill you right here, right now,” he threatened.

“But you won't,” you murmured.

“That's right,” he mumbled, breathing in your scent. Even after taking a bath you still smelled of pine tree, it was an intoxicating smell. “I will prove your word first. Let's see if the wildlings whores fuck like goddesses, mhm?”

Your eyes widened when you felt his hand freeing your hair and going towards the skirts of your borrowed dress. He lifted them, holding them in place on your waist behind your back. He saw how your pussy was already starting to glisten with your arousal, even when he had barely touched you beforehand. His cock twitched inside his pants when he noticed that all of this was because of his rough touch.

You filthy slut, he thought.

You heard a soft stump on the floor as his pants fell down his thick legs. It did not take too much time for you to feel his leaking tip brushing against your folds, spreading them open and smearing your slick all over it. You had to bite your lip, holding back a gasp as he teasingly rubbed against your clit; this was certainly not what you were expecting, but it felt good enough to make you want more.

Slowly, he started to make his way inside you, grabbing your arsecheeck with his free hand and spreading it only to see your needy cunt taking him. Cregan gasped, your soft walls were wrapping around him perfectly, squeezing him just right and creaming all over him. He hummed in delight as he felt your legs already starting to shake. Gods, he was big, stretching you out as of you were a fucking maiden, providing you with that sweet pain that made your eyes close.

When he was halfway in, he pushed himself all in with a single thrust. His head touched that sweet, spongy spot inside of you. “Fuck!” you cried out, involuntarily spreading your legs further, at the same time your hands pushed all the plates and cups away from your side. It all ended up spilt on the floor.

He remained there for a few seconds, still inside of you and not moving an inch. Cregan's hand reached for your hair once again, pulling it back until your back was pressed against his chest and his lips were brushing against your ear. His breathing was ragged and unsteady; his tongue licked his lips as they started to get dry. You were able to feel him, his veins pulsing inside of you as he would twitch each time you clenched around him. Cregan hummed against your ear.

Without warning, his hips started to move and your legs suddenly felt as weak and giggly as jelly. Your hands gripped the border of the table as his movements started to increase his pace. He was filling you up so good, so deep. You found yourself murmuring senseless words as you slowly started to lose your mind, which was a weird thing for you; you would usually be the one in charge.

Though you did not mind submitting to him for a while. All your morality was soon gone, and all thanks to the man whose cock was good enough to make you forget about how much you hated him.

His hips started to meet yours with more force, thrusting hard but slow. It was just the beginning, and he wanted to make sure you would feel every inch of him, to feel every vein. All while he was also losing his mind over how good your pussy was taking him; your tight grip around him was sending him to the heavens, his eyes never looking away from the place where both of your bodies would join. Your walls contracted around him whenever he was pulling out, almost as if they were reluctant to let him go. Cregan loved that a bit too much, he might have become addicted to it.

Then, he sped it up. His grunts and moans were falling from his lips in cascades that reached your ears. A vocal man he was, expressing his lust with the most arousing sounds you have ever heard. It brought a sense of pride to your chest, having such an imposing man as him reduced to a moaning mess. But the truth was, you were not doing any better; his animalistic movements were now sending you over the edge quicker than you thought. The sound of your bodies slapping against each other and the feeling of your arousal falling down your thighs was enough to pull you into a cloud of raw lasciviousness. Your mind felt dizzy.

Suddenly, Cregan grabbed the knife you were trying to reach and threw it right next to your hand. You saw it through your heavy eyelids as you panted and gasped. You felt his lips pressing against your ear once again, but this time he spoke,

“Try to kill me now,” he hoarsely said. “Go on. Where's the girl who tried to kill me? Not so brave now with my cock ripping you apart, huh?”

“Fuck off…” you managed to say in a murmur. Cregan mockingly laughed, and his hand fell against the soft skin of your rear, leaving a pinching pain behind. Gods, you hated the fact that you loved it so much.

“So fiery, and yet you're a mess…” he chuckled, his heavy breathing against your nape making you tremble under his touch. “I wish you could see how your little cunny is taking my cock… you're fucking soaking for me.”

You moaned, louder than you should have.

“Want to take a look?” he teased you, pushing deeper inside of you. You tried to mumble an answer, but nothing came out of your mouth. His hand met your arse again, this time slightly harder. “Answer me,” he demanded, using his lower tone which made your knees go weak.

You had no choice, “Y-yes…” you whimpered as tears of pleasure were gathering in the corner of your eyes.

He pulled out of you and you immediately whined, complaining about his absence. His hands went to the ties on the back of your dress, starting to pull them out to get them loose enough to remove that piece of fabric that was just bothering him. When he finally did, he pulled it down in a single movement, and just like that you were completely exposed to him.

He took a quick look at your body once you turned around, glancing at your breasts and your perky nipples, and then looking at the glistening mess between your thighs. His hand wrapped around your jaw, and he leaned forward; his leaking cock rubbing against your belly as his nose touched your cheek. Suddenly, his lips trapped yours in a heated kiss that lacked any delicacy; he was claiming your mouth, swirling his tongue around yours and devouring you. You heard how he pushed the rest of the dishes, plates and cups on the ground, then he lifted your body forcing you to spread your legs. Only then he pulled away.

He looked down, watching your pussy drenched with your arousal and chuckling at the sight. “Didn't know wildlings women were such whores… getting this wet when I fuck you rough,” he mocked you, tightening the grip around your jaw and forcing you to keep your eyes on him.

Cregan guided his cock towards your slit, repeating the same teasing game as before, rubbing his tip against your now throbbing clit soaking it with the mixture of your juices and his. He gave a few taps afterwards, making you whine and your legs shake. You never, in a million years, thought you would be thinking of begging a Lord like him, yet there you were, about to plead to have him inside of you once again because the ache between your thighs was becoming unbearable.

As if he had read your thoughts, he soon pressed his cockhead against your entrance, pushing just the tip. You sighed, biting your lip as you looked down at it. You could have come right there as you saw how he slowly filled you up and stretched your walls once more. The way your labia would spread to take him in; such an obscene sight it was, yet you couldn't bring yourself to take your eyes off of it.

Once he was fully sheathed in you, you managed to perceive a small bulge forming in your lower belly which would appear each time he would bury himself deep inside of you. He did not take too much time to be rough this time, starting to snap his hips against yours and making you moan and drool until your mind was fully gone once again. His big hands were grabbing your hips, his nails digging into your flesh and making it slightly painful for you; yet, you didn't want it to stop. The sound of him entering your wetness was enough to make you mumble nonsense, and it wasn't long before you managed to see a ring of your juices around the bottom of his shaft. Your eyes rolled back.

His animalistic movements were sending you over the edge, and it was humiliating how loud your cries of pleasure were; you were certain that they could be heard in the hallway, but neither you nor Cregan cared enough to stop. Both of you were consumed by each other's touch, it was rough and passionate, you could feel the heat running through your veins as he possessed every inch of your insides until you were nothing but a moaning mess. Your skin was glowing with a layer of sweat, and Cregan leaned forward to lick on your collarbone, his tongue creating a path to your breasts; his lips closed around your nipple, sucking and nibbling. You grew desperate for release.

“Fuck- I need to… I'm so close,” you whimpered, your eyes locking with his.

“Come on,” he hoarsely murmured. “Show me how good of a whore you are, and make a mess on my cock.”

His words blurred your mind, sending a stimulus right into your core. You felt that sweet sensation of culmination when he touched your most sensitive point inside of you over and over again until you were sobbing with the tears of pleasure gathering in the corners of your eyes as you felt your release exploding and washing over you until your legs felt sore. You felt weak, trembling and overwhelmed. Your hair was sticking at your forehead due to your sweat and you were far gone into the pleasure he had just provided you. Yet, he seemed to not have enough.

Lord Stark pulled out of you. His length had a layer of your release coating it, and you felt your cheeks grow warm. It was unusual for you to feel this shy in this situation, but this whole thing was something rather unusual and rare. Sleeping with the biggest foe, you were a traitor now.

But Gods, it felt so damn good.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered. His hand wrapped around his leaking cock stroking himself, legs slightly parted as he looked at you with darkened eyes filled with lust. He was achingly hard, you could tell; his stones seemed heavy with his seed, which you would rather feel inside of you.

Yet, you obeyed, kneeling and looking up at him through your lashes. He cursed with a sigh, twitching with the lustful sight of you ready to take him once again.

“Open wide,” he instructed, brushing his cockhead against your swollen lips. You did what you were told. “Wider,” he demanded, and you obeyed again. “That's a good little whore…” he hummed, content.

You stuck your tongue out and felt his salty taste as he tapped his cock against it. You moaned, and he grabbed the sides of your face to keep you still as he started to move in and out of your mouth. He groaned, looking up and then back at you; such a skilful little minx you were, taking him so well.

Soon, your gags were echoing in the room along with your gulps and his moans. You were drooling; your saliva running down the corners of your lips as he fucked them as fast and hard as he pleased.

“There you go, take it all just like that,” he praised you, and you felt the warmth of the tears falling down your cheeks. “Mhm, fuck. I might start to believe what they say now. You're sucking my cock like a fucking goddess…”

You felt the back of your head pressing against the border of the table as he sped up. You were choking around him, and the sounds that came out of it were obscene and filthy, and Cregan loved it.

Before you could tell, he spilt himself inside of your mouth, forcing you to swallow every drop that left him. And you did.

Once he freed you from his grip, you pulled away. A string of saliva was still hanging from your lips as you desperately gasped for air, and only then Cregan noticed the big mess you had become. Hot and soaked cheeks, eyes tearing up, your lips swollen and covered with his thick and pearly seed. You were such an unholy sight.

His thumb reached for your lip, wiping your drool out of it. Such a gesture brought you back to that very same evening when he wiped the blood out of the cut in your lip. It did not feel foreign anymore. You were breathless, trying to regain composure as Cregan looked down at you with a satisfied glance.

“Seems like the rumours are not false,” he muttered, starting to pull his pants up again. “I might keep you so that I can feel those pretty lips around my cock again.”

“Keep- keep me?” you asked, confused and overwhelmed.

Cregan arched an eyebrow, “You think because I fucked you I will let you go?” he chuckled. You felt his hand wrapped around your jaw once again, forcing you to stand up. You trembled a little, feeling your legs shaky and weak. “So naive of you… to think that I would have a taste of you and then let you go.”

You felt your heart sink inside your chest as you heard him.

“Since you offered so nicely before, I will accept,” he sighed, picking up the dress you were wearing and throwing it up to you. “I’ll make you my personal whore, how about that?” You went silent. “Oh, come on, don't pretend this was not your idea… I was going to let you go with a warning but you came out with a better proposal. How could I say no?”

“I don't- I-” you shook your head.

“You belong to me now,” he chuckled. “A wildling made just for me to fuck as I please… Sounds perfect, does it not?”

You look into his grey eyes, perceiving and reading the mischievousness in them. You tried to escape and return to your freedom. Instead, everything went wrong and now you were trapped in the wolf's cage once again.

You were not sure how to feel about that.

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!!

#cregan stark #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark fanfic #house of the dragon #house stark #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd fanfic

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nyx-is-missing · 4 months

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Clarisse and Reader (daughter of Poseidon) meeting in the middle of the night to swim in the lake and being caught by Chiron in a make-out session and being punished for it

Young love

Clarisse la rue x fem!reader (Poseidon's kid)

Summary: when Clarisse and reader cant get alone time in land and daylight, they search for the comfort of water and nights, until they are found

Warnings: poorly written make out session, fluff, lovebirds, kissing, chiron was there

(Yall already know)

"Clarisse are you sure nobody will notice we left?"

I said, while we both took of our clothes somewhere in the sand, the night was beautiful and me and Clarisse wanted some deserved time alone, wich we couldnt have in daylight

With the summer everyone was in camp and nowhere was calm and alone enough for us to have...a little time for us.

So there it goes our idea, to go out in the middle of the night to swim at the beach.

"Who would notice? Everyone is sleeping right now, dont let your head stop you from having some fun... c'mon"

She took me by the hand, walking me to the water, and we only stopped when the water was almost on our necks.

"Hey clari, do you hear this?"

"Hear what?"

She looks at me, and then looks around, as if waiting to see if somebody was there.

"The waves, arent they the most beautiful melody?"

I close my eyes, feeling the hot water currents softly in my body, and hearing the sound of the waves who never ceased to wet the sand.

"No"

She kissed the base of my neck

"Your voice is"

"Clarisse la rue being lovestruck? Thats new"

I looked at her, smilling big, to wich she just answered "i dont have much time with you, let me be ridiculous"

Her kissed went up, from the base, to the middle, to my jaw, and then my lips.

Her arms were around my hips, pulling me closer to her, my arms automatically hugged her neck.

I couldnt describe a better feeling, being in the water, on the arms of the girl i liked, kissing her, being unafraid of living, of loving.

Everything was too much, and yet too less.

I wanted more, more love, more of her, more kisses, just more more more.

Her tongue was hot against mine, and i felt everything with such intensity, i could swear my legs became jello, if my body wasnt inside the water, i would be shaking.

Its siliy, we kissed a thousand times and it still feels like the first one, i still get nervous when she looks at me that way only she can do.

I deepened the kiss, and felt her hands lowering a few inches, please let all the fish be sleeping, they like gossip a little bit too much

There was wind, and still i felt hot, even more when her mouth got back to the base of my neck, bitting it gently.

My eyes closed with enjoyment, but they oppened it up so quickly as i heard a familiar sound, a too familiar sound.

"Um.. clari we should sto-"

"Oh please, i barely have any time with you anymore, just one more kiss... or two.. or three.."

She said going directly back to kissing my mouth

The chill in my spine did not went away, actually, it had gone bigger when i heard him clearing his throat and saying:

"Young demigods... dont you think its too late to be swimming?"

Me and Clarisse separate really fast, faces going white with the shock of being caught by him

"CHIRON! I...we... how are you? The family doing great?"

He just stared at us with a fatherly look

"Both of you, get dressed and go back to your own cabins.....and three days of clean duty"

"Yes chiron, we are sorry"

We say togheter

"And next time you two decide to sneak out, at least do at daylight, so we can notice if something happens to either of you...or at least in a place harder to catch because... seriously.. i've been alive centuries, did you really think i wouldnt check the beach?"

#lesbian #fanfic #clarisse pjo #pjo tv show #pjo series #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue

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kitscutie · 5 months

Text

snow and roses: part III (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none except the nature of the Hunger Games franchise! later on in the series there will be hints to dark!coriolanus snow and lots of angst so be prepared!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: part three is finally hereee! sorry it took so long i've been dealing with some shit and doing a lot of work as life's just gotten very busy but don't worry - nothing will be left undone and trust me when i say i already have the ending for this series planned out :)

im sorry to say guys but i will have to close my taglist as the size has began to affect my posts and tumblr keeps glitching out, sorry!

word count:2k

find parts one and two in my masterlist!

After the incident the previous day between Brandy and Arachne as well as the suggestions from Coriolanus taken on board, the mentors had been allowed one hour with their tributes to discuss tactics.

It was good yet bad all at once. You wanted to give Wovey advice, a fighting chance but yet you knew no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much help you gave her, she stood no chance compared to people like Reaper and even Lucy Gray.

She was small and innocent, young.

"In spite of yesterdays - tragic events, our president has decided that the games must go on. Show everyone the Capitol is unafraid of such acts of terror, to which I and Doctor Gaul wishes you to preview the arena this afternoon - with your tributes. Later this evening, there will be a specialised television presentation of each tribute to our audience to, well get to know them. You will have an hour to discuss strategy. You may begin." Dean Casca Highbottom spoke into the echoey room, so large it was almost comical.

All of the tributes had been chained to the tables like animals and it made you sick to your stomach. You were aware they may harm you but at the same time such treatment would drive anyone to violence, it wasn't simply because they were District.

"Hi Y/N." Wovey smiled, so innocent. So naive.

"Wovey. I was thinking about how you might approach the games and I figured what might be best is to hide. You're small, an advantage that the other tributes don't have. I'm sure we can find some spaces this afternoon that might prove useful?" You suggested, not wishing to make this conversation more painful and personal than it had to be.

"Sure." She murmured, gaze positioned on the chains around her wrists.

"And if you wait until it's dark and everyone is sleeping you could go to the middle - collect whatever weapons they have left, just in case but otherwise I recommend waiting it out. If they can't find you they can't kill you." The sentence left a bitter taste in your mouth, you had never pictured yourself recommending a child to wait her death out in your life. The Capitol Academy was sold to you with visions of wealth and power, and now you has gone from student to mentor.

"I don't want to kill anyone." She frowned. She didn't even care that she could die, only fearing harming others. You felt your heart ache and yet, you could do nothing. No words would be good enough to reassure her, no actions would be able to save her. For once, you were useless.

"Wovey-" You began your sympathetic speech though Casca cut you off.

"Snow, Y/N. Let's go." He said as peacekeepers arrived to escort you to Doctor Gaul.

You rose without another word to Wovey, aware nothing you could say would be of any help at this time.

You knew it was about Coryo's proposal which you had not helped in and yet you weren't too upset about it. You didn't need the Plinth Prize nor did you need Doctor Gauls' approval and so you set out to let her know of your lack of involvement in this task.

"How is your tribute?" Coriolanus asked after minutes of silence.

"Her name is Wovey and she's fine. A little frightened but aren't we all?" You said, you were hesitant to tell him too much of Wovey's weaknesses and you didn't know why. This was Coriolanus. Your best friend of over ten years and your boyfriend of a few months and yet, you had a feeling whatever you said would be used against you.

"I suppose." He answered. You supposed his tone was meant to come off charmingly but all you felt was unease.

"This proposal. I haven't done it." You let him know, it was the least you could do before facing the psychopath known as Head Gamemaker.

"We have. I handed it in this morning." He answered with a hint of pride. Impressed with himself that he had taken initiative, helped you.

"I thought I made it clear the other day that I wanted no part in this plan to profit off of peoples lives, Coriolanus." You muttered, increasingly angry with his dedication to the Games and what they stood for.

"Well if you want to help Wovey, I suggest you don't tell Doctor Gaul that." He smiled, holding the door to her office open for you in a feign attempt at being a gentlemen.

As you walked into her office you couldn't help but feel disgusted. It was littered with mutants, clearly created to kill, all sat in glass jars on shelf upon shelf. Stacked all the way up to the ceiling.

"Mr Snow, Miss L/N. Come and see my new babies." Gaul said as she appeared at the back of the room. Where she had been hidden, you had no clue.

You did as she said, never one to disobey your superiors, climbing the snake tank alongside her.

"Is there a point to their colour?" You asked curiously. The snakes were surprisingly beautiful, chromatic as they shifted around on top of one another.

"There's a point to everything Miss L/N. Or to nothing at all, which brings me neatly to your proposal. Which one of you actually wrote it." She asked, as if to catch you out but you felt no remorse in admitting it wasn't you.

"Coriolanus, Doctor." You answer, sensing Coriolanus' hesitation in baiting you out.

"Well, how shocking. I expected more of a conflict." She replied, as though she were annoyed by your honesty as she reached into the snake tank, pulling Coriolanus' proposal out. "They're good your suggestions. I'm going to recommend my team implement as many as possible for tomorrow. Now run along you have an arena to promote, and Miss L/N I must say - I am most disappointed by your lack of involvement in these brilliant ideas."

"Well thank you, Doctor Gaul for your offer but, I thought Mr Snow had it safely under his control." You smiled politely before you both left to 'promote' but more so survey the new arena. "Wait." You said stopping Coriolanus before you got into the truck. "I don't know what has become of you Coriolanus Snow, but I want the little boy who fought to provide for his family while also caring for others back. You are turning into one of them, and I'm not going to be there to watch the world burn beneath your feet." You spat, leaving him to think as you sat in silence for the rest of the journey.

It seemed Coriolanus felt spiteful towards your words as he too ignored you up until this very moment as you walked into the arena.

You smiled reassuringly down at Wovey who looked just so scared. You were only three years older than her and yet you felt a motherly protection towards her, one you couldn't shake off.

Infront of you was Coryo and Lucy Gray. At first you pitied the girl, coming from twelve must be hard as they were food deprived and worked to the bone and yet now, as she stood holding your boyfriends hand in her beautiful rainbow dress, you loathed everything about her.

Your eyes rolled as far back as they physically could, your disgust clear to anyone looking but only one person was. Sejanus. He looked at you with pity and for once, you appreciated it. You decided he must know about you and Coriolanus and seeing as nobody else did they all whispered about him and Lucy Gray, how sweet they seemed.

You walked around alone before he appeared at your side.

"You deserve better, Y/N." Sejanus said, eyes never meeting your own as you continued to survey the arena, never even noticing his eyes stuck on his watch.

"Debatable." You chuckled, feeling a sense of self responsibility for getting with a man as dangerous as Coriolanus Snow in the first place.

"I wouldn't worry. If there's anything I've learnt about Coryo it's that he likes shiny things, new things - and she's definitely a spectacle." he chuckled to himself, it was safe to say Lucy Gray's ability to impress a crowd hadn't been missed by anyone.

"He'll grow tired eventually. I was his precious rose once." You sighed as the reality of the situation finally settled in.

You soaked in the silence for a few moments before you realised Sejanus' lack of response, turning in annoyance to see his eyes following the hand of his watch clock closely as he mouthed a countdown of the minutes.

"What are you-" You began.

"We've got to go." He said, grabbing your arm and beginning to walk towards the exit cautiously, not catching the attention of any guards.

"What do you mean? Sejanus?" You asked as he would not slow, not for anything. You looked around, seeing everyone else still stood stationary as they calmly conversed.

"Just follow me, Y/N." He said, still attempting to stay calm but you noticed his wide eyes.

You walked in silence, your heartbeat getting louder in your ear with each step until you hearing went completely silent, vision going black as both you and Sejanus were thrown to the floor in a cloud of smoke.

It took a few moments for you to be brought back to reality as you sat up, dazed hearing the yells of people around you. Once again before you could even figure out what was happening Sejanus' grabbed you, pulling you to your feet as you ran out of the door. 'Enjoy the show' now sounding muffled.

"What about Coryo?" You cried out in desperation, no matter what he put you through he was your first love and you had always pictured him to be your last.

"If we go back now, Y/N, we'll die." Sejanus replied as he continued dragging you until you reached the fresh air outside. Your charred lungs welcoming it.

As you looked back through the doorway you saw nothing, no one. Simply black smoke. You felt guilty and yet still - deep down - your heart yearned for the death of Lucy Gray.

It had been five hours now, sat around Coriolanus' bed alongside Sejanus and Tigris.

He hadn't so much as twitched and it had your heart racing with panic, if he died, you knew a part of you died with him.

Tigris comforted you as best she could in her own worry, noting how his chest continued to move up and down steadily and that the doctor only mentioned an injured arm, not that he was at risk of death.

The appearance of bright blue eyes caught everyone's attention as you rushed to be by his bed.

"Coryo." You said, a large smile on your face. You watched as his eyes flickered around in confusion, landing on you for a few moments. You don't know what you expected, a look of love? What you most definitely didn't expect was one of disgust.

"Lucy Gray, is she-" He stated, looking to Tigris for an answer.

"She's alive." Tigris responded through gritted teeth as she looked to you with sympathetic eyes. Her reply was lost to you as the ringing in your ears after the explosion returned. Your heart beating loud in your chest. You placed a hand over it, feeling it pound against your palm.

Your eyes glazed over as you walked away into a secluded corner, waving Sejanus off as he attempted to follow you.

It felt now more than ever so official, so real without a doubt. You had lost Coriolanus Snow. He no longer loved you, cared for you or even worried for you.

The cage that was his heart had opened wide, setting you free and instead capturing something new and desirable. A songbird.

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#coriolanus snow x reader #the hunger games #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger game fic #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg fic #thg fanfiction

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

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hey! I was just passing by and wanted to know if your requests are still open? If so, I would like to request one about Aemond x yn (who is the daughter of Rhaenyra) yn is visiting Kingslanding, she is seeing Viserys and begins to receive "timely" visits from lords who want to ask the king directly for her hand since Rhaenyra has not been able to convince her to marry one. She ran away from all these suitors since she was a little girl and Aemond helped her when they were kids but the adult Aemond doesn't want to do such "childish things" so she keeps coping, eventually he gets fun by the ways she scares them away everyone, until he sees a persevering one who is still there and when he sees him talking to her, he feels jealous and scares him with Vahagar, she is happy and thinks that in a certain way, they can still be united as when they were children. After that she has no visitors (Aemond is in charge of scaring everyone away with Vhagar) and spends time with him, eventually she returns to Dragonstone and he appears one day and finds her hiding because she heard that she would receive a visit of a new suitor, he helps her hide while she talks about how she will scare off the new idiot who comes to ask for her hand, how he will make his stay in Dragonstone a hell and Aemond is just there, watching her with a smirk while hears her bc he's the idiot who came to Dragonstone to ask for her hand. sorry if this is too long or specific, but i was thinking in this idea so long and i don't found one with this dynamic i just want a Aemond with a soft spot with a sunshine and witty reader that is his opposite. Thanks! x

Catch Me If You Can ~ Aemond x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

note: I absolutely loved this idea! all my lovely requests are always so creative, I'm enjoying writing these so much! Also haven't been tagging people on requests - is that something people still want me to tag them on? just let me know, happy to do so! word count: 2.3k masterlist warnings: mentions/descriptions of fainting 💚requests are open💚

The first lord who tried to kiss you returned to his father with a blackened eye. Your grandsire, King Viserys had laughed, a sound deep within his chest at your angered expression and reddened knuckles.

“The blood of the dragon burns fiercely in your child, Rhaenyra,” he told his daughter while placing a loving hand atop your head. Rhaenyra had smiled weakly at her father, knowing the trouble you were likely to give her was a lot like what she gave her father.

Though you were a small child, lords flocked to your mother desperate to arrange a betrothal for your hand. As the only daughter of Princess Rhaenyra, it was quite the competition for your hand. Your mother looked for your counsel, wanting to share with you the same autonomy her father had allowed her.

“I do not wish to marry,” you told her, a fierceness in your small voice. You sat atop your father’s lap, as the maester applied a salve to your reddened knuckles. Ser Harwin stood close behind you, inspecting the damage done.

“Sweetling, you need not be wed for quite some time,” she assured, “but a betrothal-”

“Ever.”

Rhaenyra’s brows lifted and she looked towards your father and Ser Harwin. Laenor shrugged, while Ser Harwin chuckled, a soft expression on his face as he gazed upon you.

“She shall grow out of it,” Laenor insisted to Rhaenyra later that night, “look at us, we said very similar things and are married.”

But Rhaenrya knew her daughter well.

As more lords approached Rhaenyra, more attempted to court you. Lords laughed at Jacaerys and Luke, saying they were unafraid of the young princes, lest they attempt to scare them off from marrying their sister.

“It is Y/N you need be fearful of,” Jace and Luke would say, causing faces to drain of color.

You were a clever child, evading suitors in the gardens, hiding within the walls of the sept. There was even a time you told a lord of the Reach to meet you down near the black cells. The boy left screaming, causing you to snicker.

Your uncle Aemond would help you with your antics as well. You often pretended to have fainting spells, as many maidens did in hopes of wooing a suitor. You did so far less gracefully. When your mother forced you on a stroll with a lord from Riverrun, you crumpled to the ground as soon as he began talking of his adventures fishing.

Aemond was quick to your side.

“I must apologize for my niece,” he said, scooping his arms underneath you, as though to drag you from the scene.

“Is she quite well?” the lord asked, a look of concern on his face.

“Yes quite, she shall be alright,” Aemomd insisted, as you let your legs hang heavy as though weighted with lead, your head hanging over your shoulder. You fluttered your lashes holding a hand to your forehead. Aemond suppressed a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Oh uncle, I had the most terrible dream,” you said as he dragged you away, “ a rather large fish was trying to swallow me whole!” Aemond burst out a sharp laugh before composing himself.

After the events of Driftmark, your mother does not bring up the matter of a betrothal for many years. Rhaenyra requested the help of her father to set you up with a match and sends you to the Red Keep as you reach maidenhood. This is unknown to you, as your mother has you believing you are going to the capital to spend time with your grandsire.

You fill your days with visiting your grandsire, whose health is steadily declining. You sit in his chambers and read to him often, though you are unsure if he can hear you. Soon after you begin this, Queen Alicent begins depositing lords to sit by Viserys bedside, keeping you company. You spot the trick right away, furious.

You have just stormed out of your grandsire’s chambers when you run into your uncle. Aemond looks down at you, a smile playing on his lips as you crash into his sturdy chest. He has grown to be a fearless warrior, the years of training have hardened him. He towers above you, looking like a knight from a song with his long silver hair, and eyepatch that covers the memory of years ago.

“You must help me,” you tell him, and Aemond raises a brow.

“With what, niece?” he questions, taking in your blushing cheeks and annoyed expression.

“There is a plot to marry me off,” you tell him, glancing behind him and seeing the lord walking down the hall attempting to catch up with you.

“Quickly, I shall faint,” you whisper to Aemond, who holds you upright as you begin to lean into his lithe frame.

“Stop that foolishness,” he insists, wrapping his fingers around your forearms, “you are not a child anymore.”

You frown at him, tearing your arms from his grasp, cheeks burning at his insulting tone.

“Princess Y/N!” the lord says, standing next to you, “I had thought I lost you-”

You cut him off with a sharp stomp on his foot. The lord yelps in pain, hopping on one foot as you speed away from him. Aemond raises his eyebrows in surprise, watching as you dash away.

Though Aemond refuses to take part in your antics, he does find humor in them. You enlist Helaena to help, having her cover you in fuzzy caterpillars one morning during a walk in the gardens. The lord you are with turns green as you place a caterpillar on his nose.

It is all in good fun, and Aemond enjoys watching how you laugh and laugh when one by one the suitors disappear. He doesn’t believe any of them are worthy of you anyway.

That is until a lord of the Westerlands comes to win your hand. He is a dashing fellow, with a sly smile and golden locks who sets his sights on you as though a lion cornering its prey. The lord takes your antics in stride, the first is you knocking a goblet of wine on his white shirt during supper.

“I do apologize, my lord,” you told him, “I am a terrible klutz you see, hardly a lady who can be expected to run an estate.”

“Nonsense, it is no bother,” the lord says, “besides, you are a princess, you behave how you like.”

This shocks you, and to Aemond’s displeasure, the lion lord keeps up with you. Even when stepping on his toes while dancing, even when arriving late for dinner. The lord simply smiles and continues to dote on you.

You grow frustrated and worry that Queen Alicent will send word to Rhaenyra that this is a good match. You try to concoct a plan one day and take him to visit your dragon at the dragonpit in hopes she shall scare him off. The lion lord is not easily frightened and instead calls your young dragon sweet. You frown in displeasure.

As you exit the dragon pit, a shadow covers the entirety of the clear blue sky. Your lion lord looks up, stricken with a fearful expression. You follow his gaze, a wicked smile appearing on your face.

Vhagar is a monstrous beauty. She is far too large for the dragonpit, and she lands instead behind it. You look at the lord’s face and take his hand.

“Come now, let us greet my uncle,” you say happily, dragging him behind you.

As you reach Vhagar you watch as Aemond descends.

“Niece,” he says, “my lord.”

Aemond had watched you on your way to the dragonpit, an uneasy feeling of jealousy in his stomach. He had observed your attempts at ridding yourself of the lion lord, and how desperate you had become. Aemond had seen your dragon; your dragon would not scare a small dog, let alone a man. Aemond told himself he had no choice but to come from your aid.

“Uncle!” you say, smiling so wide Aemond feels his heart nearly stop beating, “would you care to introduce Vhagar to my lord?” you say, gesturing to the man beside you. His knees have begun to buckle, his face is pale as he looks at Vhagar.

Aemond’s smile is feline and Vhagar roars loudly, shaking the ground beneath your feet. You laugh as she does, a sharp joyful sound.

“Come my lord,” Aemond says, beckoning the man forward, “though I must warn you, Vhagar is very temperamental. The last time she met someone she did not like, it ended rather unfortunately for them.”

The lord’s eyes nearly pop from his skull. He shakes his head and Aemond scoffs.

“My lord,” he says, in a disapproving tone, “you wish to marry a dragon, and yet you cannot face one?”

Your grin is wicked as you watch the lord’s mouth open and close, a squeak leaving him. Aemond chuckles darkly.

“You are more of a house cat than a lion, my lord,” he sneers, “run along now.”

The lord leaves hurriedly with the permission of the prince, racing back towards the streets of King’s Landing. You laugh and laugh, much to Aemond’s pleasure. The sounds send warmth throughout his body. You look towards your uncle, a strong feeling of unity in your heart.

After that, you do not have any other visitors as you spend most of your days on dragonback with Aemond. Those who try to gain your affection must face a trial to deem them worthy of you. This mainly includes Aemond introducing them to Vhagar. Not one lord lasts long when staring down the beast that lived beside the Conqueror.

Eventually, Queen Alicent writes to Rhaenyra that the efforts are fruitless and you are summoned back home. You depart King’s Landing, promising Aemond you shall write to him, as you have greatly enjoyed his company during your stay. The last month has rekindled a fire within your heart for the one-eyed prince. Aemond hates watching you leave, your presence in the Red Keep was a warmth that is not easily replaced.

Weeks go by, and there is no news of any suitors coming to visit you at Dragonstone. You spend your days flying and attempting to learn High Valyrian, something that has not come easily for you.

“Y/N,” Rhaenyra calls, “come here my love, we are to have a visitor.”

You freeze with fear as you hear your mother’s voice from the great hall. Slowly, you back down the hallway urgently trying to find a place to hide. Rhaenyra knows Dragonstone like the back of her hand, better than you do. You curse at the thought of her finding you and presenting you to another dreary lord.

As you pitter-patter down the hall away from your mother’s calls, your back hits something sturdy and warm. You turn and to your surprise, come face to face with Aemond.

“Aemond!” you say in a hushed whisper, relief flooding through you. You smile at him, throwing your arms around him. He hugs you close, burying his face in your hair. Reluctantly you pull away.

“Thank the gods you are here,” you tell him, taking his hand in yours, “you must help me.”

You pull him towards a nearby veranda, as a smile plays on his lips.

“With what, dear niece?” he asks, eye flickering all over your face. He has missed the sight of you this past month.

“A suitor, how mother keeps finding these fools is beyond me,” you whisper, gazing over the edge of the veranda, “perhaps this time I have a spell, I shall fall over here.” You motion to the edge of the balcony. Aemond looks at you, an amused look on his face.

“You mean to throw yourself to your death?” he asks and you shake your head.

“You shall catch me,” you tell him, smiling eagerly, “ride below on Vhagar and you shall be my savior.” Your eyes are aglow with glee at the thought.

“Ingenious, I know,” you tell him, “the fool shall wet himself with fear. Surely that shall be enough, lest I am sure you and I can make his stay here dreadful.”

Aemond cannot keep the smile from his face as he watches your face light up with mischief.

“Y/N, I cannot,” he says, though reluctant to deny you. Your smile falters, brows knitting together in confusion. Aemond has always proved to be your partner in crime in the end, and his denial of your wishes sends a stabbing pain in your heart.

You believed you would never feel ready for marriage, wanting nothing more than to fly on dragonback for the rest of your days exploring the pleasures of the known world. But after your stay in King’s Landing, you decided marriage may not be so bad if your husband enjoyed similar pleasures.

“Please uncle, just once more,” you beg, clasping your hands in his. Surely he wouldn’t let you slip away from him, not when he had so willingly scared away previous suitors.

“I cannot,” he repeats, and you feel like screaming.

“I do not understand,” you tell him pouting, “you have helped so much before-”

“I cannot help because it is I who has come for your hand.”

You blink, looking up at him, your lips parted in surprise. You look down at your hands that are still intertwined with his.

“I am the fool,” Aemond tells you, an amused smirk on his handsome face.

He lifts your hands towards his mouth, placing a kiss atop your knuckles, violet eye never leaving yours. Aemond watches you closely, sizing up your reaction to his reveal. You do not speak for several moments, as a blush forms on your cheeks.

“I feel quite faint,” you whisper, and Aemond chuckles.

“Do you jest?” he asks, eyes narrowing.

You shake your head, a dreamy expression on your face as you smile.

“Not this time, I’m afraid,” you say and Aemond drops your hands, snaking his arms around your waist to press you against him.

“Do not fret,” he murmurs, placing a kiss atop your head. You can feel him smile into your hair.

“I shall catch you.”

#sapphire requests #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x strong!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond one eye #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond imagine #hotd imagine #aemond stannies #aemond fic

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ultram0th · 9 months

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Froy and Zane were the picturesque It Couple. Two young gay men who were unafraid to be affectionate in public was enough to bring social media into an applause.

The cutesy couple made out in the bedroom one night, getting ready for some sexy time when Froy paused.

He pulled back for a moment in confusion, having slid his hands up his boyfriend's shirt. "Um, Babe?" he asked. "Did you grow out your chest hair?" His fingers ran through a thick pelt of fur that seemingly covered Zane's pecs.

Zane looked back in confusion as well, having been naturally smooth for years. "No...?" he trailed off, looking downward at himself. His voice disappeared in his throat the second he saw the new chest hair curling over his collar. "What the hell?"

The second he looked down, Zane's eyes nearly popped out of his skull as he watched his pecs grow. The mounds seemingly inflated and rounded, the buttons on his shirt popping off as he grew. The hairy muscletits came into view as they burst out of his shirt, being capped with large, nubby nipples.

Not to be outdone, Zane's gut followed suit. His abs disappeared before his stomach grew outwards. His gut steadily inflated until he had a complete hairy muscle gut that protruded far out in front of him.

"Wh-what happened to me?" Zane panicked as his hands ran over his rotund belly. "I'm huge!"

Before Froy could attempt to comfort his larger boyfriend, flinched when he felt his own shirt begin to constrict around him. His jaw dropped when he looked down at himself, watching as his own chest inflated and grew hairy.

The two boyfriends could only watch in shock as they grew larger and much hairier. Their arms grew in size, their biceps packing on much more meat. They had to shift their stance on the bed as their asses inflated and rounded out, their thighs getting bigger too.

As a final touch, the boyfriends felt their faces start to itch as beards sprouted out over their smooth faces. Their baby faces were completely altered as wrinkle lines formed near their eyes and their cheeks even rounded out some more, their necks widening to account for their deeper voices that uttered from their beefier bodies.

"Babe, what happened to us?" Zane cried out in his deeper, baritone-filled voice.

"We look like daddies," Froy muttered as his hands explored his larger and much hairier body. Despite how freaked out his was over his mysterious transformation, the sight of his now older boyfriend with a large set of fuzzy pecs that rested atop a large musclegut turned him on.

"What?" Zane asked when he saw his dady of a boyfriend hungrily staring at him.

"You really make a sexy daddy," Froy playfully growled, reached over and running an admiring hand through his boyfriend's thick chest hair, pausing to thumb a nubby nipple.

Zane bellowed out a low moan and allowed to himself to be felt up by his larger boyfriend, totally succumbing to his new life as a large muscle daddy.

#froy gutierrez #zane phillips #bearification #daddification #Muscle #Musclegrowth #Hairy #Hair growth #Age Progression #AP #Request

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kamisatomay018 · 5 months

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Playtime with the Otters

Neuvillette x fem!reader

Lots and lots of fluff! And yes I know many people must’ve written fics on this topic but I wanted to give it a go as well! Hope you all enjoy!<3

Also the artwork is not mine, all credits go to the original owner!

There you stood, with your lover’s face buried in your stomach, his arms clinging onto you around your waist while you caressed his long locks. You were both alone in the Opera Epiclese, and as usual, a hard trial had left your husband very upset, prompting you to come visit him to help him feel better. You loved how he was never afraid of being vulnerable around you, how the rain would always slow down and stop the moment he saw your figure walking past the grand doors to the courtroom. You massaged his head, gently caressing his horns making him hum in satisfaction. “Feeling better now love?”

He smiles softly, nodding and looks up at you with those devastatingly beautiful siren eyes of his, your presence having brought back life into them. “Yes Mon Amour, I cannot thank you enough..” You giggled softly, placing a sweet kiss on his forehead “Since when did we start having such formalities between us hm?” He laughs at your words, the gentle yet heartwarming sounds of his laughter bouncing off the walls of the rather depressing courtroom, filling it with joy. The dark clouds were long gone, and gentle rays of sunshine had begun to seep through the fluffy clouds.

“You’re right Cherie…but I do not wish to part with you so soon. I have plenty of free time, can you please stay with me some more?” Oh archons, how could you ever say no to those pleading eyes of his? Your smile brightened as you nodded, an idea already coming to mind. “I’d love to spend more time with you Neuvi! How about we go for a swim hm? It’s been so long since we’ve done that!” Neuvillette’s eyes softened as sweet memories swarmed into his mind like the tides, reminding him of your beautiful past; of the day he first saw you.

As the Hydro dragon, being in water always calmed him down, he would dive into the deepest depths of Fontaine’s oceans after a difficult trial to clear his mind. Besides, the melusine’s village was also underwater, and he’d spend a lot of time with them. On one such fateful day, as he swam towards the depths of the salacia plains, he saw a beautiful young girl examining a shipwreck ever so carefully, analysing every single scratch and dent on the broken pieces of the ship. That person was you, Fontaine’s leading historian and archaeologist who had been awarded and recognised by many for your hard work and dedication towards piecing together the history of this land.

Neuvillette was surprised by your bravery, for the depths of the salacia plains were dangerous and eerie, and no human would willingly come close to them. But here you were, seemingly enthralled by the historical evidence in front of you. He also noticed a Hydro vision glowing around your waist, which explained why you were so unafraid of the depths of these waters. However, Neuvillette’s eyes had widened as he saw a few enraged seals swim your way, ready to attack you. Without him even realising, he swiftly swam towards you, protecting you from the attack and using his hydro powers to harmlessly deflect the seals, making them retreat.

You on the other hand, were utterly surprised by what happened. You turned around and to your bewilderment, the Chief Justice himself was in front of you, protecting you from the seals’ attacks. To say that you were flustered was an understatement. Ah how embarrassed you were! Your cheeks had flushed pink, as you timidly thanked the Iudex, apologising for troubling him. But what you didn’t know that just by looking into your ocean blue eyes, Neuvillette’s heart immediately told him that he had found his mate, his partner for life. And ever since that day, he always found some way or the other to meet you, and you noticed how friendly the melusines had become around you. One thing led to another, and you both fell deeply in love.

Ever since then, both of you would often go to dive into the depths of Fontaine’s oceans together, collecting seashells, starfish and ancient relics together. Sometimes you would take him to multiple ruins underwater, explaining the history behind them and he would listen to you, completely enthralled by your knowledge and research abilities. Swimming in these oceans had deepened your love far beyond the deepest depths of the oceans of Teyvat.

And now, to hear you suggest that you both swim together made Neuvillette happier than ever, making him readily agree. Anything for his love. His heart skipped a beat as he heard your giggles, the big smile on your lips tempting him to kiss you, which is exactly what he did. You gasped softly, but immediately reciprocated the soft action of pure love. Neuvillette was clingy by nature, and it was your favourite thing ever. He would kiss you out of the blue, always hold your hand, whisper sweet nothings in your ear and hum the tunes of the oceans to lull you to sleep. He was the sweetest husband ever.

As you both parted, he held you hand, intertwining your fingers together as you walked outside the now empty Opera House, heading straight towards the ocean. The rain was long gone, and a beautiful rainbow decorated the skies, illuminated on the gentle surface of the waters. You both dived in together, your vision glowing as you both felt so content. You decided to head towards the salacia plains, as that place held the best memories you both had ever made.

As you both were swimming towards the depths, neuvillette felt your hand slip away from his, making him frown. He looked towards your direction and saw you swimming towards what looked like a cage. He followed immediately, not wanting you to come to harm. What you both saw upon reaching the sight broke your heart. Inside the cage was an otter, looking afraid and trying to get out, and outside the cage was another otter, probably his partner, whimpering in agony as she couldn’t help her partner out of the cage. They joined their little paws through the bars of the cage, seeming so distressed.

“Neuvi..look at these poor otters! How could someone trap such an innocent animal! Come on, we’ve got to help them!” Your worried voice spoke, making him nod. Indeed, it was most cruel to trap such beings in these cages. You swam closer to the otters, alerting them both as they were afraid you had come to harm them. “It’s okay, I don’t mean you any harm, I promise..I’m gonna help your partner get out okay?” You spoke in your soft voice, but of course, the otters couldn’t understand. Neuvillette then swam next to you, and you saw the way the otters instantly relaxed, the free one even approaching him, tilting her tiny head as she swam backwards towards his horns, making happy noises.

Your heart melted at the sight, and you laughed in delight. “Neuvi, you and the otters look so much alike!! They think you’re one of them!” Although puzzled, Neuvillette couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head softly knowing that you would never let this incident die down. And quite frankly, he wouldn’t mind because your happy giggles were his favourite melody. Taking this chance, he swam towards the cage, examining it. “Hmm..mon amour, I think we need to search for a key to open this lock. I’m afraid we cannot use our powers to break this open as it might hurt the poor otter trapped inside.” You nodded at his words “Alright, you stay here with them, I’ll be right back with the key!” He turned towards you, tenderly kissing your forehead. “Be careful, and if any danger comes to you, immediately call for me hm?” You gave him that oh so sweet smile of yours, nodding. “I will, you have my word.”

With that, you swam away, searching for a key. After around 10 minutes of searching, you found a metal key buried in the sand, picking it up and went back to your husband. “Alright, I’ve found a key, let’s hope it’s the right one!” Neuvillette took the key, and to your delight, the cage opened, making the otters immediately hold hands and hug each other, their snouts rubbing together in tender affection. Meanwhile you and Neuvillette both smiled happily at the sight, holding each other’s hands out of habit. “Oh this is so precious Neuvi!” “Indeed Mon amour, I’m glad we could rescue the otter.”

The otters then looked at you both, noticing the way you were holding hands, just like them. In their eyes, Neuvillette already looked like them, so perhaps you were his mate! They swam towards you both happily, expressing their gratitude. You laughed happily as the otters surrounded Neuvillette, examining his horns in glee. “Aaaww if only I had a Kamera with me, I’d capture this moment! You sure you’re the hydro dragon Neuvi? Because you clearly look more like these adorable otters!” You teased your husband, a playful glint in your eyes. Your husband laughs at your words, shaking his head as he snakes his hands around your waist, spinning you around. “Someone’s having a lot of fun hm?” He spoke with a playfully threatening tone, yet his voice was so full of love and adoration for you.

While you both were busy being playful, the otters had returned, this time with the sweetest little surprise for you both. Your eyes shined happily as they gave you both beautiful pink seashells, glittering under the soft sunlight from above. “Oh these are so beautiful!!” “Sweetheart, look..” Your husband’s gentle voice made you look in front of you, and your heart melted into the biggest puddle ever. Two tiny baby otters were surrounding their father who was previously trapped, and then swimming towards you and Neuvillette, booping their tiny snouts with your noses as an innocent little gesture of gratitude. “Aaaww they’re a family! Oh Neuvi this is so sweet..” He smiled too, nodding as he held you close to him, all his stress long forgotten. “It really is..and one day, we’ll come back here to visit them, with our own family..” Your cheeks flushed pink as you looked at your husband, nodding happily. “Yes, yes we will..”

5 Years Later..

Both you and Neuvillette watched with big smiles and warm eyes, as your tiny 4 year old twins played with the otters in Salacia Plains, the very family of otters you both had rescued 5 years ago. Neuvillette’s dragon powers granted his kids the freedom of swimming in the water, and to his delight, both your children had inherited one particular draconic feature of his: his beautiful blue horns. Your daughter had beautiful white locks like her father, while your son had your shining brown hair. They were such darlings, and the day the two of them were born, all of Fontaine had celebrated. The sun had shone brightly, a big beautiful rainbow adorned the skies while all the creatures underwater celebrated the arrival of two new hydro dragons.

Like their parents, your kids were deeply connected to the waters of Fontaine, and both you and Neuvillette would often take them on swims. And now here you all were, watching with joy as your kids played with the otters, finding shiny shells and little wonders buried underneath the sand. As neuvillette held you close and watched his little dragons grow and play, he swore he had never been this happy. And he knew that he would always protect this happiness, his family. With you three, he was complete. With his family, he was at peace. And these very depths of Fontaine were your family’s safe place, and the keeper of all your memories together.

#genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin fanart #genshin imagines #neuvilette x you #genshin impact neuvilette #neuvillette fluff #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette otter #genshin fluff

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percheduphere · 5 months

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LET'S TALK ABOUT THE LOKI SERIES' ROMANTIC TROPES AND JANE AUSTEN

I am going to compare the relationships and romantic undertones of Loki, Sylvie, and Mobius with my all-time favorite Jane Austen adaptation because the character archetypes and plot-points are strikingly similar with Ang Lee and Emma Thompson's 1995 Sense and Sensibility.

This sounds cracked, but stay with me. Tropes are tropes for a reason. They are often repeated in writing subconsciously because they are very old and near-universal story arcs regardless of the literary genre we are discussing.

Please note that this is not a 1-to-1 comparison. This is an analysis of basic archetypes, tropes, and plot-points: the barebones skeleton of story structure. With that said, let's dig in:

Loki = Kate Winslet's Marianne Dashwood

Sylvie = Greg Wise's John Willoughby

Mobius = Alan Rickman's Colonel Brandon

For those of you who have not seen (or read) Sense & Sensibility, the story is about a family of women who are rendered near-destitute when the patriarch passes away and, due to English law at the time, all the family finances fall to the only son. The only hope for the women to escape the edges of poverty is to marry into wealth.

The Loki series’ main storyline is a far cry from that of Sense & Sensibility. It is first and foremost a sci-fi action-adventure, but don’t let that genre fool you. Well-written stories are always character-driven. The setting serves to establish the rules of the world and the tangible challenges the characters must confront to achieve their goal. The end goal for Loki is his ascension to the God of Stories (and time). Therefore, his character arc must follow a trajectory that prepares him for that ascension.

Love, above all else, is essential for Loki’s journey. In order to understand and be capable of love, Loki must experience love in all its forms including but not limited to romantic. I've seen a lot of social media posters mocking shippers with comments saying, "the story is not about romance." I wholeheartedly disagree. While romance is not the main concern of the series, romance does serve Loki's character development.

It is critical that we remember romance does not require physical contact or even blatant declarations of love. If that were true, unrequited love would not be thought of as romantic, which we know is not the case. Further, it is possible for physical intimacy to exist without any romance at all. One does not require the other.

While dismantling HWR’s old regime is the Loki series’ “Plot A” thread, Loki’s emotional experience serves as the series’ “Plot B” thread. Love and romance exist in Plot B.

THE CHARACTERS & THEIR ARCHETYPES

LOKI & MARIANNE

Within Sense & Sensibility’s plot, one of the main heroines, Marianne, has the archetype of the mercurial, passionate, and freewheeling spirit. She is rebellious at heart, chaffing at society’s rigid expectations of emotional repression and polite rather than fiery courtship. Much like Loki with Sylvie, Marianne is drawn to John Willoughby because his temperament, values, interests, and talents very closely mirror her own.

Like Loki, Marianne is emotional. Her emotions drive many of her decisions, some of which are rash and socially unacceptable for her era.

Like Loki, Marianne detests social norms. Refusing to contain her nature for anyone, she is unafraid of the stares and judgment of others.

Like Loki, Marianne is poetic, a lover of words and metaphor.

Like Loki, Marianne is a hedonist. She will follow where her heart takes her regardless of the consequences. Just as Loki runs after Sylvie through the portal door, Marianne chases after Willoughby.

SYLVIE & WILLOUGHBY

Willoughby fulfills the archetype of the ideal lover at first sight. He is young, handsome, strong, deeply romantic, and a lover of poetry, pleasure, and unfettered emotion. I will not go into the deeper details of his character and plot here as I don't find them relevant for the purposes of this analysis. The key point to remember is that Willoughby is meant to be Marianne's perfect match by virtue of similarity.

Like Sylvie, Willoughby is emotional and consequently chaotic in nature. At his worst, Willoughby is unafraid of hurting others in the pursuit of his desires.

Like Sylvie, Willoughby chooses absolute freedom over the genuine love and care he has for Marianne (Loki).

Like Sylvie, Willoughby views institutions with social authority with contempt.

Like Sylvie, Willoughby judges character based on association with institutions rather than the individuals themselves. He holds repugnance for Brandon’s (Mobius’s) association with the military (the TVA). Fair enough, both the TVA and the military (especially the British military) are institutions that have committed horrific global atrocities.

Like Sylvie, Willoughby is unable to separate the institution from the individual people living and working within it, who are capable of goodness.

MOBIUS & COLONEL BRANDON

Colonel Brandon, a decorated military officer, fulfills the trope of the “dark horse” in love. He is Willoughby’s opposite: older, "less physically attractive", reserved, practical, and orderly. The main character (Loki/Marianne) appreciates his friendship yet does not feel any romantic affection for him (Mobius/Brandon) until the primary love interest (Sylvie/Willoughby) abandons the relationship for absolute freedom.

Like Mobius, Brandon is drawn to intelligent, artistic, footloose nonconformists.

Like Mobius, Brandon accepts and loves Marianne exactly as she is, including her faults. He does not want her to change against her will and gently reprimands her older sister, Elinor, at such a suggestion.

Like Mobius, Brandon serves an institution with significant influence on the lives of others.

Like Mobius, Brandon accepts that his love is not returned yet continues to express his love through his support of Marianne’s (Loki's) wishes, including his romantic rival Willoughby (Sylvie).

Like Mobius, Brandon is seen as a dear friend rather than a potential romantic partner in the first 2/3rds of the story.

Like Mobius, Brandon’s personal desires are secondary to Marianne’s (Loki’s) happiness.

THE ROMANTIC PLOT

It is understood by the audience that love is not only a feeling; it is also an action that requires incredible responsibility. In that responsibility, both lovers must choose to take into consideration the feelings, wants, and needs of the other.

The trope of a main character meeting their perfect match and falling quickly in love informs the audience that conflict must lie ahead, and that the third party of the love triangle will be tested for their worthiness as a romantic partner.

Loki & Sylvie and Marianne & Willoughby possess a fast, passionate, and explosive love.

Loki & Mobius and Marianne & Brandon posses a slow, steady, and gently burning love.

These two relationships, which are BOTH valid AND romantic, are set against one another to contrast each suitor's strengths and weaknesses, as well as to shed light on which suitor best meets the feelings, needs, and wants of the main character.

The main character's (Loki/Marianne) love interests inevitably collide in a tense confrontation. Being the Georgian Era, Brandon and Willoughby do not discuss their dislike for one another directly but with Marianne's older sister, Elinor.

Sylvie, on other hand, is not afraid to tear into Mobius, saying exactly what she thinks of him. Both directors of photography frame their shots in a near-identical fashion, demonstrating who are at odds and the individual (present or not) who is between them.

Whether in the realm of fiction or reality, the act of love inherently requires some degree of self-sacrifice.

While Sylvie performs self-sacrifice by pruning herself in hopes of finding and rescuing Loki from the Void, that self-sacrifice does not extend to her personal values and beliefs with respect to free will. She therefore fights Loki, ultimately kissing him farewell before kicking him through a time door to get what she wants.

Likewise, Willoughby, cut-off from his family's estate due to indiscretions he refuses own, prioritizes wealth over his relationship with Marianne in order to continue his lifestyle of luxury and absolute freedom. Willoughby therefore marries the exceptionally wealthy Miss Grey to achieve this end, abandoning Marianne and breaking her heart in the process.

At the midpoint of each storyline (where the narrative turns), both Loki and Marianne have lost the person they felt most strongly about because they were not that's person's priority.

Marianne's quote in the above gif is significant. It is a poem she and Willoughby recited together when they first met. She recites it again, alone, as she looks upon the estate Willoughby has married into in the rain. The poem is as follows:

"Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. Oh, no. It is an ever-fixed mark that looks upon tempests and is never shaken."

This poem defines love as not fickle but persistent in the face of challenges and "never shaken".

THE DARK HORSE IN LOVE

Brandon, who falls for Marianne first, establishes himself as not only a friend of Marianne's but her whole family's. All of his actions throughout the film are performed out of love for Marianne, but these actions are not read as romantic by Marianne because there is no fast-burning fire and (seemingly) little commonality between them.

Marianne's mother cautions her, pointing out that the romances she cites all meet pitiful ends. In return, Marianne describes such love as not pitiful but "glorious."

Brandon and Mobius express their love for Marianne and Loki through practical means. Their actions are predominantly viewed as marks of friendship rather than marks of romantic love. It should be noted that in both cases, no verbal declaration of love, nor any physical declaration of love, such as a kiss, is ever made by either Mobius or Brandon on screen. Brandon's unrequited love, however, is readily apparent to everyone (the characters and the audience) due his presentation of the opposite gender.

Brandon, upon seeing Marianne struggle cutting reeds for weaving, offers her his pocketknife. Mobius, knowing that confrontation with Sylvie at Roxxcart will be dangerous, offers Loki his daggers for protection.

Brandon, recognizing Marianne’s need for artistic pursuits, gifts her a piano. Mobius, recognizing Loki’s need for validation, provides him with words of affirmation, encouraging Loki’s talents in magic and cunning.

Brandon, acknowledging Marianne’s love for Willoughby, invites Willoughby to a picnic at his estate despite his distaste for him. Mobius, acknowledging Loki’s love for Sylvie, frees Loki and is pruned despite his jealousy of her.

Marianne, out in the rain and in distress over her loss of Willoughby, succumbs to a deadly fever. Loki, kicked through a time door and in distress over his loss of Sylvie, succumbs to time-slipping.

Brandon and Mobius actively make themselves available in response to their loved one's individual break-ups with ZERO expectation of having their love returned.

Brandon, concerned that Marianne's illness may kill her, rides nonstop for hours to retrieve her mother during a storm. Mobius, concerned for Loki's wellbeing, risks his life on the loom's gangway, risking exposure to temporal radiation and death.

In the end, both Brandon and Mobius are the triumphant winners of Marianne's and Loki's hearts.

Indeed, Brandon reads poetry to Marianne, and when he announces he must "away", Marianne worriedly asks "where?", demonstrating her desire for him to stay. Brandon teases her, fulfilling Marianne's need for romance and excitement by saying, "it is a secret."

Mobius, meanwhile, begins to open himself up to worldly pleasures, allowing himself to drop the strict, no-nonsense behavior he exhibited in S1. Loki, in turn, begins to provide him with the type of emotional support Mobius has consistently given him since the beginning (yes, he has a jealous meltdown, but he recovers relatively quickly).

The outcome of their successes, however, diverge due to their gender presentation.

Whereas Brandon happily marries Marianne ...

... Loki returns Mobius's selfless love with a sacrifice of his own, and they are separated.

#lokius #loki #mobius #loki series #loki season 2 #lgbt representation #lgbtqia #queer representation #lgbtqia representation #loki meta #loki analysis #my meta #my analysis #jane austen #sense and sensibility

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sea-owl · 25 days

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You know I've seen people compare how both Violet and Penelope having similar mothers (though in my opinion, even if it's a biased one, Portia is better than Lady Ledger) and maybe Violet sees a bit of herself in Penelope because of it. But I never see people talking about their fathers because I think that's part of how these two are shaped differently besides having some similarities.

Violet, in the words of Lady Danbury, was fortunate in life, having Lord Ledger as a father. His nickname for her beauty and brains shows us as the audience that he's an attentive father. He cares about Violet choosing her over his own happiness. And while Violet can hold her own against her mother, we get the sense that Lord Ledger is ready to come to her aid should she need it. That wink he gave her makes me partly believe it's because of his support that Violet can speak out against Lady Ledger.

Then we have Lord Featherington, who chose himself over his daughters. He chose his gambling and gambled away the only potential safety nets for his daughters that were their doweries. When Portia criticizes Penelope, Lord Featherington is never around, even when he is. He may physically be in the room, but he's lost to whatever he's reading in that newspaper, and we rarely see his face when he has it. His family can beg for his attention and he would still not give it to them. The one ball he has to chaperone at and he's not paying attention to any of his daughters. The man who should have been Penelope's, and frankly all of the Featherington sisters', first protector failed them miserably. At best, he's a bank account, and even that, he failed in.

That support and being able to rely on some in the home, to me, is the key difference between the two wallflowers. Violet was encouraged and supported by her father, leading her to be unafraid to speak her mind. Penelope was shown at a young age that she has to rely on herself, and maybe if she's quiet or subtle, they'll get bored and leave her alone. At least temporarily.

#ignore me im rambling #bridgerton #violet bridgerton #penelope featherington #lord ledger #lord featherington

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astarionsilverbough · 6 months

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astarion catches halsin whittling a bust of his head out of a palm-sized block of birchwood :} he doesn't recognize it :}

yo hey whoa WHOA

okay yeah let’s go

It happens about three days after they leave the Grove for the Creche.

They’re camping on the Risen Road near the river. Astarion and Gale disappear for their usual bath together - they stay in the pairs they’ve previously selected mostly out of ease, though Karlach joins Lae’zel and Halsin’s group - and Halsin, having already bathed, produces a block of wood from his pack.

It fits neatly in the frame of his hand. Three-fourths of the block have been carefully carved and coaxed away by the gentle sweeps of Halsin’s knife. He works in silence for a few minutes, losing himself so utterly in his task he hardly notices he’s not alone until Wyll is speaking.

“Good gods man,” the fighter says, peering over Halsin’s shoulder at the small piece, “you’ve captured Astarion perfectly. Karlach, look at this.”

“Oh, whoa! Halsin, that’s amazin’,”Karlach says wonderingly as she peers over Wyll’s shoulder while he peers over Halsin’s shoulder. “You’ve even captured his little, little smile lines! Oh!”

“What’s all this, then, why are we cooing over the druid?”

As it always does, Astarion's voice makes Halsin's heavy heart feel about two hundred times lighter and younger. Wyll and Karlach both step back and Halsin looks up at Astarion nears, his damp hair falling over his curiously furrowed brow.

"Oh," the vampire hums, sounding a bit... befuddled. Almost... apprehensive? "Well who's this... handsome young thing, then?"

He's being entirely genuine. He doesn't recognize himself - but Wyll and Karlach, who barely know the man, did. It does look like him, then. Halsin knows it does - he's carved Astarion's face a thousand times over the last two hundred years, after all. He could carve it in the dark.

Karlach rolls her eyes. "Oh, come off it," she says with a laugh, gently smacking the back of Astarion's shoulder. "You don't have to play coy. You're bloody gorgeous, Astarion."

Astarion's eyebrows shoot up as it occurs to Halsin that vampires... Vampires can't see their reflection. Not even in water. His chest grows almost immeasurably tight. It must show on his face, because Wyll clears his throat then and says, "we ought to get the fire going, aye? It's getting chilly out here for those of us not running on infernal engines!"

"Wh -?" Karlach manages, but then Wyll is all but frog-marching her away and Halsin's world shrinks down to Astarion and only Astarion.

A relief.

If he could keep the world this small, he would.

"Is this... Is this really me, darling?"

Astarion sounds... His voice is more vulnerable than Halsin's heard it yet. Oh, but there were no words in any language to describe what was happening within the great former archdruid as he takes in Astarion's expression; it's one of an almost awestruck grief, of curious hope and something approaching the innocence he once embodied when he was younger and unafraid.

"Yes," Halsin utters on a breath. "Yes, little star, it is."

The vampire's eyes are swelling with tears. His bottom lip quivers even as his mouth curves into a soft, wondering smile.

"Me... now?"

"That is the only you I see," Halsin says quietly. "The Astarion you have always been and will always be."

"Oh," Astarion whimpers. When Halsin offers up the carving for Astarion to hold, to memorize with fingertips and thumbs, Astarion falters for a moment before he takes it so carefully Halsin almost shatters then and there.

"Huh," the vampire breathes, gazing down at his own carefully crafted visage with tears streaming down the real article, "well. I... I look more like him, don't I? Like father."

"You look like Astraea when you smile," Halsin murmurs, clambering to his feet. He sweeps a curled finger under Astarion's chin to catch the tears beading there and thumbs over the taper of it.

"And you have her eyes," the druid says. Astarion lifts those sunset eyes to meet his and before he can protest, Halsin bows to kiss the argument off his tongue. Astarion grips the carving in one hand and slides his arms around Halsin's neck; the bigger elf catches him in the crook of his elbow and draws him close, as close as he possibly can.

It's never close enough.

"But when I look at you," Halsin says in elvish, taking a step back towards his tent, "I see Astarion. I see the way your hair curls around your ears and the way your eyes wrinkle when you laugh. The way your lips part right before you're about to be kissed."

Astarion's ears go pink. "Oh - stop," he protests weakly against Halsin's lips, squirming as Halsin lifts him effortlessly from the ground. "Enough poetry, just tell me I'm beautiful so we can move onto the exciting part."

Stepping back through the flaps of his own tent, Halsin catches Astarion in another gasping kiss and turns on his heel. Astarion doesn't flail or cry out when Halsin moves to get him down on the cot; he trusts Halsin with the same ease he always has, fingers carding nimbly through the druid's hair as he kisses over Halsin's jaw and noses at his ear.

"Beautiful," Halsin says, leaning up on his palms to look down at the vampire. Soft dusk light filters through the canvas of Halsin's tent, lighting Astarion up in shades of burnished gold. The breath punches gently out of Halsin and he shakes his head. Catching Astarion gently by the jaw, the druid bows and kisses him in the way that makes the blood run hot enough to tempt the change.

"I would invent a new word for you if I only knew how," Halsin says against Astarion's lips. "You are solar storms and hurricanes, Astarion Ancunin - you are the sea beneath a fractured sky and the first winter freeze."

Astarion trembles. "I distinctly remember telling you no more poetry" he manages, "only moments ago, even. You can't have forgotten already. I hope you haven't, or we have bigger problems than - mmhmm..."

He licks the words off Astarion's tongue. The vampire melts beneath him, tears dripping down his temples and into the snowfall of his hair.

"Astarion," Halsin breathes achingly. "Astarion."

"There it is," Astarion whispers, "your new word. Every time you say my name - every time you say my name, I know how beautiful you think I am."

A pause.

"But the carving certainly helps. Feel free to make more. Of any part of me, in fact."

Halsin grins against Astarion's teeth and gathers him close, finally skin to skin.

It's almost close enough.

"Oh, I will," the druid burrs as Astarion scrapes a heavy, needy gaze over his face, lips parted against Halsin's like he's a snake poised to swallow a mouse. Halsin slides a hand between his thighs and the elf whines.

"Good," Astarion groans.

And he does. Only once he's done some thorough research, of course.

Astarion insists.

#baldur's gate 3 #the land of gods and monsters verse #halstarion #astarion #halsin #rambles #this ask killed me thanks so much

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the-californicationist · 2 months

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Good Fences (Fluffuary #27)

FEB27: Reader Request - John Meets Your Friends

For the lovely @gemmahale!! Love you, bestie!

“And he proposed in front of the painting?” Georgia gasped, taking another long sip of her gin and tonic.

She was holding your hand up to her face, inspecting the pearl. Her fiery red curls bounced when she talked, and her bright red lipstick matched it almost perfectly. Georgia always sparkled. She was brash and loud and unafraid to use it.

“Girl. This is nice.”

“Thank you,” you blushed, sipping your margarita.

“So, what’s he like? I’m upset we haven’t met him yet,” asked Carrie, nursing her own margarita. Hers, though, was the size of a fishbowl.

“I think he said he’d be here at ten thirty,” you checked your phone. It was ten forty-five, no calls, no texts.

The wedding was in two weeks, and you were out with your friends. His buddies were in town, as you’d just gotten home from visiting his family overseas. You didn’t really want a true bachelorette party; male strippers and dick necklaces were great and all, but it just wasn’t your scene. You were happy to be grabbing drinks with the girls. You’d known Carrie and Georgia since grade school, and Cana since college, so it was nice that they all got along.

“Okay! I’m back,” Cana came over to the table with a server’s tray as if she worked there, “One for you, one for you, one for me, and… two for our beautiful bride!”

Tequila shots. You were going to have a headache tomorrow, but you downed them anyway, chasing it with plenty of salt and lime.

“Whoo!” Carrie screamed.

“Okay,” Georgia’s face puckered, “I am definitely not young enough for that anymore.”

“Enough of all this,” Carrie interrupted, “What’s he like? We gotta know.”

Then, as if she had summoned him, John walked through the door. He was dressed up, but in a lowkey sort of way. When he turned to you and waved, you heard Georgia gasp,

“Holy fuck, he’s enormous.”

“He looks like he could throw a car. What the hell, babe? Are you for real?” Carrie asked, staring rudely, her mouth agape.

“Cute though, huh?” Cana sipped her drink until the straw made empty gurgling sounds.

All your friends nodded dumbly in unison. You giggled,

“Stop! He’s coming over here.”

You watched him approach, his huge body moving gracefully despite its size, edging through the crowd. When he arrived at your table, he pulled you into a deep but brief kiss, keeping it subtle, but adding just enough sexual energy to it to excite your friends into a froth.

“My, my, my,” John purred as he studied the empty glasses on your table, “You ladies look like you’re having fun tonight. Hi, I’m John.”

Everyone went around with their names and handshakes, and Cana piped up, having met him already,

“Sit, sit! They need to hear all about you.”

You watched John make himself comfortable at the table, and the server brought over a tray of four beers.

You stared at him confused, and he chuckled,

“Sorry, love. Hope it’s okay that I brought my mates with me.”

You looked over his shoulder and saw Kyle, Simon, and Johnny making their way over.

“Cap’n! You didnae tell us all of your missus’ mates would be so damn bonnie,” Johnny crooned, sidling up to Georgia and audaciously kissing her hand.

Simon sat down next to Carrie and put his long arm around the back of her chair, rolling his eyes at his sergeant,

“Sure they have finer prospects than you, MacTavish.”

Gaz and Cana, who had made a strong connection at her graduation bash, shared a sneaky kiss together and you watched her make a signal for him to follow her to the bathroom.

You looked at your friends’ faces, full of shock and awe and thought to yourself: It’s gonna be a long night.

AO3 LINK

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the-broken-truth · 7 months

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Yandere One-Shot: Platonic Yandere Dimitrescu Family w/ Young Female Maid Reader [PART 3]

Broken Truth: Hey everyone, I've completed the script for the third installment of our storyline. Let's get started! Enjoy, My Shadow Pups! Let the words weave together!

Quick Summary: [Name] [Surname] is the youngest of three daughters on her father's farm. While she takes care of the farm and her ill mother, her elder sisters spend their time being lazy and spending any money she makes. They often complain about their financial situation but do nothing to improve it. Frustrated with their lifestyle, [Name] decides to apply for a job at Castle Dimitrescu. Despite her mother's dismay and her sisters' delight, she lands the job. However, things take a dark turn when the Lady of the Castle and her daughters take a personal interest in [Name]. They decide that her family is no longer deserving of her, leaving [Name] to face a difficult choice.

Notes:

[Name] is 15 years old.

[Older Sister] is 27 years old.

[Middle Sister] is 23 years old.

[Father] is dead and gave the farm to [Name] in his will because he knew she would take care of it.

[Mother] is 57 years old and has a deadly illness. There's an elixir that the Duke has to heal her but it's expensive.

Regardless of her young age, [Name] can cook, clean, bake, sow, and repair rather well, as if she were a professional.

[Part One] - [Part Two] - [Part 3] (You Have Arrived)

[Castle Dimitrescu - Dining Hall - Supper Time]

Alcina Dimitrescu sat at the head of the table, eagerly awaiting the arrival of her beloved daughters for dinner. As she looked around the dining hall, she couldn't help but notice that it was spotless. Despite having occupied Castle Dimitrescu for some time, it had never looked this clean before. The runner was free of blood stains, the wooden floor was perfectly polished, and the carpet was swept and also free of blood stains. The goblets and fine china that rested on the table were free of dust. Everything was perfect. Alcina gazed at the maids who stood at attention against the wall, ready to serve their mistresses, including the newest addition to her collection: [Name] [Surname].

The owner of the surname farm stood with perfect posture, her hands behind her back, her focused eyes locked on the lady's voice, ready to act quickly and effectively. She had been taught by her father to be efficient and attentive. Despite hours of cleaning and preparing, her uniform remained flawless, free from wrinkles and dust. Alcina was impressed; usually, maids would have wrinkles and dust on their clothes after the first day, but this girl was different. The Lady of the Castle was intrigued by her and would keep a close eye on her. There was something about her that Alcina couldn't quite put her finger on.

Alcina's thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of buzzing coming from the halls - from the corner of her eye, she could see the maids tense up at the sound of her daughters approaching but the youngest maid remained as still as a statue, completely unaffected by the sound of the Dimitrescu Daughters coming closer to her location; was she unafraid of the Young Ladies of Castle Dimitrescu? Alcina couldn't help but wonder and smirk - she would insert the fear of Castle Dimitrescu within this girl.

The first to enter the dining hall was Bela Dimitrescu - Alcina's Eldest Daughter and - in her opinion - her most responsible daughter. Bela's hood was down, allowing her long blonde hair to flow behind her as she hovered over to her seat and took a seat to the right of her mother.

"Sorry for being late, Mother. I had to wake Dani up to make sure she didn't miss dinner again." Bela explained.

"I understand, My Daughter. We do not want your sister attacking the nighttime maids for a midnight snack again." Alcina groaned as she recalled what happened the last time her youngest daughter skipped dinner - that was a difficult mess to deal with, the blood stained one of her favorite paintings that Donna painted for her. She kept the painting in her art room, trying to think was ways to remove blood from it without damaging the artwork - easier said than done.

Soon enough, 2 more clusters of flies entered the room and formed into the Middle Child of the Dimitrescu Family and the Youngest of the Dimitrescu - Cassandra and Daniela Dimitrescu. Cassandra's long brown hair flowed behind her as she hovered to her seat while Daniela stood there running a hand through the shaved side of her red hair. She started heading to her seat when she stopped, sniffed the air for a while, and turned to look over to the maids - who stiffened as her eyes raked over them until they stopped on the newest addition of the maids.

"OH! What have we here?" Daniela asked with a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat's to shame as she hovered over to [Name] - who locked eyes with Daniela as she looked her over as if she were examining a shiny new toy. "Mother got us a new toy to play with and this one smells so good! What's your name, pretty thing?"

"Lady Dimitrescu, permission to speak?" [Name] asked as her eyes remained locked with Daniela's and her hands remained behind her back.

"Your request is granted, Maid [Surname]." Alcina said - surprised that the maid would have enough respect and common sense to ask her lady and mistress permission to speak to her daughter; this one was very different from the others.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Daniela. I am [Name] [Surname] and I look forward to being of service to you." [Name] said as she placed on hand across her chest to place over her heart and bowed her head to show her respect and submission to Daniela.

"OH! Mother, I like this one! Can I keep her, please?! I promise not the break this one like I did the last time!" Daniela said as she turned to face her mother with a large smile and puppy eyes.

"No, darling. Maid [Surname] is not a toy. She is a rather hard worker for her young age." Alcina said.

"Really? How old is she?" Bela asked.

"She is 15 years of age, My Eldest." Alcina said.

"Only 15 and she is working as a maid here? Are you certain that is a good idea, Mother?" Cassandra asked.

"Quite certain. Do you see the dining hall? She cleaned it as her test to prove that she would be able to handle work around the castle." Alcina said as she gestured around the dining hall.

"How the hell did she get the blood stains out of the runner? Even the old stains are gone." Bela asked.

"I used lemon juice, Lady Bela." [Name] said.

"Lemon Juice? That actually works?" Daniela asked.

"It most certainly does, Lady Daniela. I used it all the time to get the blood stains out of my clothes during my farm work." [Name] explained. Daniela looked at [Name] with a large smile on her face before she hovered over to her seat and sat down beside Cassandra. The family waited for the chefs to arrive from the back with the food. Tonight's dinner of fine steak with blood sauce, the family ate but Danield seemed displeased.

"Mother, the blood on this meat doesn't taste all that good. What type is it?" She asked.

"The chef told me it was A+. Is there something wrong with it, my daughter?" Alcina asked.

"Most of the dishes they serve have A+ Blood and I have grown sick of the taste. I want something different. Don't we have other blood in stock?" Daniela whined as she dropped her fork with a piece of steak still on the end. Alcina explained that A+ Blood was the only type they had in stock because that was the dominant type from the donors who were paid for their blood but Daniela was still displeased.

"Lady Dimitrescu." [Name's] Voice called out, causing the Lady of the Castle to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes?" Alcina asked.

"If I am allowed, I might be able to aid Lady Daniela with her problem. May I try something?" [Name] asked. Alcina was curious about what the young girl was planning and gestured her hand in a way that told [Name] she was allowed to proceed. The youngest maid walked over to the table and removed her hands from behind her back while her right hand reached into her pocket and pulled out a small knife. She opened the knife and used it to slice open the palm of her other hand, allowing the blood to build up from the open wound, and held her hand over the steak Daniela was eating, allowing her blood to spill over the meat. [Name] moved her hand around to ensure every inch of the steak was moved in blood before she retrieved and piece of cloth from her pocket wrapped her hand to stop the blood flow and nodded to Daniela, who sliced a piece from the steak and took a bite - her eyes widened as the flavor of the blood hit her tongue.

"My daughter... Are you alright? You have grown silent." Alcina asked. Daniela said nothing as she continued to cut the steak and consume it like a starving creature until it was gone - she then attempted to lick the blood from the platter but once it was gone, she turned to face [Name] with a crazed look in her eyes.

"More! I want more!" Daniela lunged from her seat and grabbed [Name's] forearm, yanking the cloth from her hand and forcing the bleeding wound to her mouth to drink as much of the blood as she possibly could. Alcina - completely confused by her daughter's actions - rose from her seat to stop Daniela but the calmness of [Name's] face told her that she wasn't in danger - the young maid didn't fight as Daniela drank her blood and soon enough, the young mistress pulled away, licking the leftover blood from her lips with a smile of satisfaction on her face.

"Has your appetite been sated, Lady Daniela?" [Name] asked.

"This... This was the best blood I have ever tasted. What is your blood type?!" Daniela asked.

"To the best of my knowledge, I am AB Negative." [Name] explained.

"AB Negative? I have not heard of that blood type. I have heard A Negative, even B Negative, but never AB Negative." Alcina said with confusion in her voice.

"It is a rather rare blood type, Lady Dimitrescu." [Name] explained, "Another rare blood type - also known as the Universal Blood Type - is O Negative."

"You know a lot of blood types." Cassandra said.

"Just enough to stay alive. Never know when you might need a donor, it could just save your life." [Name] said.

"Are there anything other people in the village with your blood type? Your sisters perhaps?" Alcina asked.

"To be honest, I am not certain, Lady Dimitrescu. My sisters were not very keen on having blood work done or having examines from the village doctor." [Name] said.

"I want to taste her blood as well." Cassandra said as she rose to her feet.

"No! She is mine! Her blood is mine, too! I tasted it first, so it's mine by right!" Daniela said as she held [Name] close to her chest while hissing at her sister, who hissed back.

"You can't just hog the rare blood bag for yourself, Dani! That's not fair!" Cassandra yelled.

"Now, now, daughters. That is enough. Maid [Surname] needs to rest from allowing Dani to drink her blood. We shall deal with this situation in the morning. Maid [Surname], you are dismissed. Return to the Maid Quarters and get some rest. Your work resumes tomorrow." Alcina ordered as Dani released her grip on the girl.

"As you wish, Lady Dimitrescu." [Name] said as she bowed and walked out of the dining hall with all eyes on her.

This girl - this rare blood type - was going to be interesting to keep around.

#resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #female reader #servant reader #yandere dimitrescu family #platonic yandere

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