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nylwnder · 10 months ago

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polaroids

a/n: happy third smutty fic drop and happy valentines day (2 days late) <3333333333 pls enjoy this self indulgent daddy dilf captain fic cause i wanted to defy the odds and write for him cause im THAT slut!

pairing: john tavares x wife!reader

warning: SMUT!!! use of camera during sex, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, lotus position, creampie, voyeurism, polaroids being found, mom!reader, mention of his kids (because they are the cutest), swearing

word count: 2.9k

taglist: @shoot-the-puck , @11livpangburn , @domi-max , @boqvistsbabe , @sweetiet , @p1tstop , @occasionallyaurora , @laurenairay , @fallinallincurls , @andrea9

series masterpost

the polaroid slowly spills out of the camera before you grab it to put it on the nightstand.

your husband turns to fully look at you and you face him with a giggle. he was standing on the opposite side from the bed as he was trying to undress from his suit. “mm, didn't know i was on camera” he mumbled, with a smile.

“you can't expect me to not feel a type of way with you in that suit.” you say, moving yourself closer to him, your legs dangling off the bed.

it was the first weekend in a while where the kids were at your parents’ place. so john took you out for dinner to one of your favourite spots.

“plus i haven't used this thing in so long,” you mentioned, turning the camera to see how many polaroids you have left. “nine left”

john grabbed the camera out of your hands, putting it to his face in order to take a picture of you. you were still wearing the dress you put on for dinner. “its only fair.”

the camera clicked again and a polaroid slowly etched its way out once again. the picture developed and soon showed you sat with a perfect smile on your face. your husband smiled at the photograph.

“why stop there?” you stated more so than anything, but kept a soft voice. john looked at you and you watched him back, slipping your bottom lip between your teeth. it was a thought you have had in your mind once or twice.

he set the camera gently aside. grabbing your arms to stand up with him. he reached for the zipper on your back and the material fell off you in a second, revealing a black babydoll slip dress you had on under. john grabs your dinner dress and throws it onto the bench that sits at the end of the bed.

you both break into a smile, as you wrap your arms around his neck. you pressed your lips to him as his hands travelled down your body, squeezing his favourite parts. soon his hands scoop you up and your legs habitually wrap around his torso as you don't break the link between the two of you.

that is until john drops you onto the bed. your hair sprawls out on the bed sheets as a frame around your face. your lips are plump from your kissing and your face is blushy. the lace slip laying delicately on your skin.

flash shined through the room as another polaroid was placed on the nightstand.

you sat up to kiss john again, your hands exploring his chest as more than half of the buttons from his shirt were already open. he catched your lips and your body already felt so hot.

laying back down, john pulls your legs forward so that the plant of your feet sits on his folded knees. that only meant your slip dress ruffled up, making your husband have a perfect view of your matching underwear. a wet spot was slowly forming on the thin material and you felt slightly embarrassed. he hasn't even done anything to you, you thought.

you've been with john for basically half of your life, which only means he has seen you in multiple different situations. he knows his effect on you and your growing wetness brings nothing but a smile to his face, every time. even if he's barely touched you. it's a compliment if anything else.

so why not take a picture, he thought.

you blushed, even more heavenly now. its impossible to even try to feel embarrassed with this man, you thought. though, your body was more so waiting for john to take away the thin separation between him and your core.

so when his fingers hooked on the band of your underwear, rolling them down your legs and discarding them to the side, you couldn't help but let out a little whine.

john took a deep breath as he looked at your dewy cunt. but instead of touching it himself, he took one of your hands and sucked two of your fingers in his mouth. your own mouth opened just a slight and your clit throbbed as you watched him. his eyes, which are looking at you, are far darker now.

“touch yourself, darling.” john demanded, keeping the camera close to reach.

following his words, your wet fingers made their way to your pussy. collecting your own juices and playing with your clit before teasing your hole. john watched closely, his one hand holding your leg apart from the other.

you let out small moans as you worked yourself like you have for years. but you couldn't help but look at your husband in front of you, begging he was the one to bring you to an orgasm next. and the stroking of your fingers was enough to start building a tent in john’s dress pants.

he kept licking his lips as you etched yourself closer and closer. feeling the coil in your stomach near to snap, you threw your head back while biting your lip once again. your fingers deep in your pussy jt took another picture.

by the time john put the film aside you began bringing yourself down from your high. removing your hand from your dripping folds, your husband was quick to close the gap between the two of you. moaning in his mouth as his tongue slipped in between your lips.

pulling apart for air you gave john room to leave kisses along your jaw and neck. moving downwards, as he moved your small dress upwards, your body gave a shiver as his lips kissed your cunt. though the touch so soft you barely felt it, not with the fire burning inside you as he watches you with amorous eyes.

“johnny…” you whined softly, your face with a needy pout. quite honestly, nobody has made you ache between your thighs more than the brown eyed man right below you. you're just grateful he’s your husband, so you can have him at your full disposal.

a subtle smirk appears on john’s face. “of course, angel.”

his head leaned on your inner thigh, taking in the sight of your glistening, dripping cunt once again. a sight he will never get sick of. he slid just one finger in between your wet folds, splitting you open in order to rub the tip of his finger against your clit. your hips chased the friction immediately.

but he was quick to open you up with his mouth and you whimpered and twisted at the delicious feeling of his tongue flat on your pussy. he kissed and nipped gently but firmly, devouring you like a man starved from dinner, despite having eaten your cunt more than the two of you can count.

this time you felt the pressure in your lower belly build easily. faster than with your mediocre fingers. “so close” you murmured with an arched back.

“let me taste you, darling. want to taste that sweetness of yours.”

his lips laying kisses near your entrance as he spoke, his tongue began to move in and out. grabbing the camera from the side, you figured you'd get in on the photoshoot.

its only fair.

moving your free hand to lightly tug on johnny’s hair, you snap a picture before your moans overtake you and your orgasm washes over you.

john catched every drop of your nectar before gracing your cunt with some more kisses. tugging for him by the waves of his hair, he makes his way back up, wrapping his arms under you to pull you up to his lap. reaching for his lips, you grind down at the bulge that sat under you.

you earned a moan from the man, doing it again just to hear the sweet vibrations in your ear.

getting up and pulling him with you, you begin to untug the button up from john’s pants. swiping it off his broad body, it falls to the floor behind him. your hands explore his skin, following the lines of his shoulders down to his stomach. leaving baby kisses over his collarbone, your finger lightly lines his snail trail. so featherlike, you receive a shiver from john. your hands are quick to work his belt and the zipper of his dress pants. yanking them down, your lips connect for a kiss.

you slowly drag his boxers down as you move with them. kneeling on the soft carpet that surrounded your bed, you look up at john. sharing the prettiest of doe eyes, a whine escapes your lips as your hand wraps around his length. red at the tip and thick, aching for a release of his own.

“wanna taste too” you ask, so gently, so innocently against his cock.

“taste all you want, honey.” he replies, filled with an admiring yet anticipating look.

you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, savouring the taste of him. opening your mouth wider you take in his full length and you both let out a moan.

you lick from the base to the tip repeatedly. then bringing your focus back to the head of his cock. quickly, you bring one hand to the base and the other to his balls.

“fuck, sweet girl. just like that.” he moans out as his hips buck, forcing the tip of his cock all the way into your mouth. you gag a slight before adjusting yourself and returning back to your pace.

this is like muscle memory to you, but regardless, you would do anything to see his face scrunch in pleasure and his groans fill the room.

and to hear your name fall off his lips.

which he does as you deepthroat him once more, with teary eyes as you squeeze his balls again and moan for his release.

before he does, he reaches for the camera and catches you looking up at him through your eyelashes. cheeks flush and lips slick with spit around his cock.

he hums in enjoyment as the film is placed to the side once again.

“mm you ready to swallow me up, darling?”

“yes”

“every drop?”

“every drop.” you say with a kiss to his tip as your hands begin to work his length.

it wasn't long before his twitches freed the warm seed in your mouth, looking up at john as he watched you gulp it down.

cleaning off a drop from the corner of your lips, he makes you suck his finger before squeezing your soft chin.

“that's my good girl. always so good for me, huh angel?”

you smile. “mhm” you say, pushing him down on the bed by straddling him again. this time your pussy had full access to his bare thighs. buff and hard, you always stared, even in his blue joggers. and especially when he sat down, all sprawled out, fitting both jace and ax on either leg. rae on his chest.

the father he was, so kind and gentle. so patient and caring. supportive and protective.

he was everything you could ask for and more.

he made it easy. even if he wasn't around sometimes, but when he was, you were at total repose.

his hands ruffled up your slip to tug it off and over your head. “need to see my beautiful wife” he says softly. your bra was equally discarded, john smiled as your breasts sat perfectly in front of him, all for him.

laying on his back he reaches for the camera again by the pillow. he puts it up to his face and the flash shines once more, your bottom lip caught in your teeth slightly. “so gorgeous.”

he sits back up and pulls your hips closer, your nipples rubbing against his chest hair. you whine out gently. his hands cup the curves of them as your hands play with his hair. he leaves warm kisses on the crook of your neck, down to your collarbone and back up to your lips.

you roll your hips habitually, the base of his cock swiping your clit just for a moment. “let me feel you john.” you plead, mouth close to his ear. “i want to feel you deep inside me.”

john lifted your body up in order to slide his cock to your entrance. sitting down on the thick length, you let out a throaty moan. you’d been craving this the whole night. your legs wrap around his waist, putting the both of you into a sitting position with his cock tucked in you.

“feels so good” you breathed out.

“you hug my cock so well, darling.” john says, as you move slowly.

you both shared long, passionate kisses as you continued to gracefully move your hips. the feeling of him deep in you is already enough to get you somewhere.

john loves this position since he can roam his hands over your body and lock his lips with yours with such comfort and ease. but most importantly: watch you fall apart while his cock is hitting the best places inside of you.

whispering sweet things in your ear, john begins to rut his hips upwards. with his movements, he starts penetrating further up against your g-spot, causing you to whine and squirm in his touch.

“that’s it, sweet girl”

he kept his thrusts steady and firm. you were soon being bounced on his length with the help of his strong thighs and arms. “fuck johnny” you yelped, hands on his shoulders for support and your eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. his head is in between your breasts and sharing some grunts against your shiny skin.

your moist walls naturally squeeze around his length, but you could feel his twitching as the two of you moved in unison.

“cum for me angel. let it all drip down.” john dictates, pressing a kiss to your temple.

you let your hips ride out the fire within you. you rolled them, swayed them, as john still pumped into your core. not soon after, with the way your breasts bounced, and how your moans echoed in the room, his own release found home inside you. the warm feeling, so familiar and so comforting.

as you fell back on the bed, john got up and slipped out of you. you closed your legs but you whined at the void.

“let me see” he says softly, using his palms to spread your legs apart. your conjoined cum began to slip out of your pink pussy. john couldn't help but groan at the sight, your head still a bit high.

“quite lewd don't you think?” he says with a smirk, as he clicked the camera button.

he pushed the seed back in with his fingers, as deep as he could go. you whined and arched a bit at the sensitivity. “need that all tucked in there.”

“feel so full”

“good.” you smile at his words.

you took the camera from his hand, “one left.” he nodded his head in your direction, letting you know you could use the final one.

you looked at his body for a bit, and took your hand to lightly scratch down his chest to his stomach. your eyes tracing his v-line, as his cock slowly began to soften. you kept your hand on his torso as you brought the camera to your face with the other. making sure to check that you capture just enough of him — what you would want to see when the bed is empty.

the click projected the last polaroid from the film cartridge. you sat up, john reaching for the pile he had made of you. you grabbed them, reviewing them with a blush across both of your faces.

“you better hope nobody finds them.”

—

william wasn't a nosy guy. per say. but when he was handed john's wallet, from the captain himself, he couldn't help but notice the bright white bottom frames sticking out of a slot. the more he moved the wallet to grab the card, the more they tried to slip out.

after securing their purchase, and beginning to walk off to the direction of the table, willy kept his head down to look at the wallet in his free hand. john found him on the way, “everything good?” he asked which, startled the blonde, resulting in the drop of the wallet.

and the polaroids all together.

“shit im sorry man” willy said, going down to help grab the fallen articles. john stood still.

despite the fact the light was dim, it was enough for the swede to see who and what the photos were about. he couldn't help but stay eyes wide as he handed the pile and the wallet back to john. william was rarely fazed, or nervous, but this got him.

he was a little surprised to be faced with a smirking john, but nevertheless he apologised again.

“is that um-”

“y/n? yes will, its my wife.”

he nodded along as they walked back to the table. his eyes caught you as you sat with a wide smile talking with the other wags and guys. he didn't want to think of you, his teammate’s — let alone his captain’s — wife, like that but he couldn't help but feel an affinity for you now.

john sat down beside you, arms wrapping around your frame quickly as he kissed your temple. you turned your head to look up at him, giving him a peck on his lips. “come to the bathroom, angel.”

your body tensed at his quiet words, his hand rubbing your arm. “need to feel you. right now.” your legs pressed hard together, giving a light nod, anticipating what was to come.

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cottonundiestf · 1 year ago

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Transformation Charm Game: justanotherdrone

The Temple Doors open and @justanotherdrone enters the domain of the Fates and the Charm Game begins! The Fates stir and magic fills the air…

[Style: Country Girl]

…and your clothes start to dissolve, reshaping themselves on your body. Your yoga pants and sneakers form together into some cute boots and your skater skirt creeps up, reforming into a worn-out pair of cut-off denim shorts that don't fully cover your ass.

Your top shrinks, the fabric creeping up to expose your belly until the buttondown is tied to snugly cradle your modest breasts.

You reach up over your head to feel the brim of a cowgirl hat and notice your arms have developed a nice tan befitting a girl who spends her time out in the country. The color covers everything but some clear tan lines left from a bikini you wore out by the lake.

This wasn't your style, you know, but at the same time, this IS your style. Now it always has been; deep down, you're always gonna be a country girl, from your clothes to your southern accent.

I blushed when I seen my clothes change, running over to a puddle of water to look at my skin. Seeing it darken, tanning, like the popular girls that I went to school with. The only pale skin on my chest, the tan lines, drawing attention to them, only moreso with my top. I reached up to them to try and undo the knot, to take the top off. I…I still had a bra on under this, didn't I? I…I didn't remember wearing one. All those days workin in the field, it was hard t'breathe, no real point n having one…

The magic makes the room feel like campfires and honeysuckles as energy swirls once more...

[Style: Forever Heels]

…this time focusing on one specific aspect of your wardrobe: your shoes. Boots compliment your new look nicely, but they're still too modest. Your perspective shifts as the heel of your shoes extends, lifting you five inches off the ground!

It isn't just your shoes, though; you feel the tingle in the arch of your foot. Intrinsically, you know; your feet are molded to the arch of a good high heel.

Retroactively and going forward, you feel increasing discomfort when flat-footed. Your natural standing position matches that of at least a four-inch heel. Even barefoot, you'll forever be walking on your tiptoes now.

But permaheels aren't ALL bad; they make your ass look great, after all. In fact, your butt gets a perky little boost so it can be properly shown off hanging out of those tiny shorts.

I felt my calves flex, as the heels grew. I'd also be lyin if I didn't reach round and grab a feel for myself, giving my rear a gentle squeeze. Hopefully I wouldn't trip but…so far there wasn't any downsides!!

The magic is glad to see you so curious, flaring back to life and following your lead…

[Thicc Thighs]

…seeping into your backside. You can feel the warmth radiating through your ass and thighs, like a cake being baked. And just like cake, as the heat grows, your thighs and backside start expanding outward, becoming dense and squishy with layer after layer of new flesh.

When you take a step, you feel the jiggle. Your thighs rub together as you walk, and the perky apple-shaped butt those heels gave you is now a full serving of wobblemeat. Given your love of tiny shorts and skimpy skirts, the lower half of your ass will probably be on permanent display going forward.

I reached back with both hands, squeezing and shaking it. It's be so much fun twerkin on a guy, maybe even getting him to fall in love. Sex would be wild. I could have a handsome husband to run the ranch with me. Course, I wouldn't stay in the house, I'd be pullin my own weight with the chores!

It's nice of this good old fashioned country girl to aspire to a nice domestic ranch life. But the magic swirls…

[Sexuality: Promiscuous Girl]

…and has other plans. This time it settles right between your legs, lighting a little fire in your core that grows quickly, building the heat in your body and spreading to your mind.

You're horny. Not just now, but always. Your cunt probably makes more decisions than you do, leading you to flirt, tease, and seduce anyone that strikes your fancy. Your motivation almost always boils down to getting someone to fill your needy holes.

This unfortunately overrides your ability to restrain yourself, which isn't great news for relationships. You can feel yourself remembering now; you try having relationships and finding that cowboy or girl to settle down with. But you just can't keep from fucking his friends, his cousins, or strangers from the honky-tonk.

You can't help that you put the ho in hoedown?

It just…always feels good!! And with my assets I can have anyone I want, boys, girls, daddy's helpers on the ranch. One day, my helpers. I'd pay em, but the best workers would get a special bonus at the end a the week for bein such a good boy…

Who could blame you, right? The magic was almost spent for the day, but there was enough left to rest like a mote on your tongue…

[Syllable Limit; 1]

robbing it of linguistic complexity. Oh, sorrt, that might sound complicated after the dice of fate roll

and your brain suffers a bit of a drain! Your mental word bank, accrued over decades, loses anything longer than a single syllable. If you try speaking a longer word, your tongue will trip over it, and if a sentence has too many words longer than one syllable, your ability to understand it will dwindle, leaving you with a dumb, confused expression.

It's safe to say you dropped out of high school. You gave up on studying, content for a simple farm girl life on the ranch, slutting it up at country bars ever night. But isn't this so much better than being smart and dealing with a service job, all without a certified country-fed dumptruck ass?

The magical voice of the Fates whispers in your ear, "How do you feel about your new life, cowgirl?"

I shud…shud…shiv…my new hot bod felt like fuzz, and I gave a nod to the weird n fun voice in my head. This felt ama…cool!! Hard to think but like, I can fuck men and wom…and girls, they can talk and think for me!!

Exactly! You have a wonderful life lined up for you now where you don't need complicated words.

Go forth, make do like a country girl, and enjoy riding cowgirl!

(But maybe be careful not to smother whoever you're riding in all that ass...)

End.

Shoutout to justanotherdrone for taking part in her own transformation and giving me the go-ahead to include her replies!

As always, I do these VERY occasionally in my Discord Server if you want to get a live sneak peek. (Fair warning, I'm still pretty behind on my wait list and have been known to go months between games.)

#transformation charm game #personality change #countryfication #ass expansion #libido change #syllable limit kink

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novamariestark · 1 year ago

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If it's not too much to ask, can I get 19 and 25 with Tallahassee?

Control? What's that?

[A/N] So sorry this took so long.

Warnings: piv, unprotected sex, age gap, rough sex, public sex (if zombie's count), brief description zombie abuse (just put this in case idk), horny reader, hornier Tallahassee

Word count: 1550

Fandom: Zombieland

Pairing: Tallahassee x reader

When you first met him, you were 21 years old and incredibly horny. But you couldn’t believe that the one living man you had come across looked like that. He was so handsome. Plus he wore a cowboy hat. That was a bonus.

You had been on your own for what felt like an eternity. The world had gone mad, and you were left to fend for yourself in the midst of chaos. It was a lonely existence for a while, not once had you seen another living person since the beginning of it all. You began to question if you were somehow the only survivor.

At first, your survival had been nothing but dumb luck. You stumbled upon a vacant house with fully stocked pantries and a closet full of clothes. It was like a gift from the heavens.

However, as the months rolled by, you realized that relying on luck alone was not enough. You needed to develop some skills if you wanted to continue surviving in this new world. You began to teach yourself how to fend for yourself. You scavenged for food and learned how to purify water from streams and lakes. And most importantly, you learned how to defend yourself.

Your weapon of choice was a bow and arrow. It was a weapon your father had taught you how to use when you were younger. He had always been fascinated with archery and would often spend weekends at the range, teaching you how to shoot with precision. But it had been years since you last held a bow in your hands, and you never imagined that one day your knowledge would become a matter of life or death. On your travels, you found one, again more dumb luck and you began practicing with it.

You met Tallahassee in a store. You were frantically searching through the shelves, your eyes scanning for any sign of your favorite snack - Twinkies. It had been months since you had a taste of the delicious cream-filled treat, and you were desperate to find one.

Just as you were about to give up hope, you spotted a box of Twinkies tucked away in the corner. You quickly made your way over to grab it. But as you reached for the box, you noticed the packaging was torn. You looked closer at the box to reveal that the Twinkies were covered in rotting zombie flesh and blood. You felt a wave of anger wash over you.

You grabbed a baseball bat from the sports section and marched over to the first zombie you came across. It was growling and reaching out to you with its decaying arms, but you weren’t afraid. No, you were filled with so much rage that you swung the bat with all your might, hitting the zombie's head with the most satisfying crack you’d ever heard. You hit it, 2, 3, 4 more times.

You didn’t know that there was someone behind you, watching you take out your anger on the zombie. The first time Tallahassee saw you, his first thought was that he had never seen so much rage in such a small form.

Before you knew it, the two of you were on the road. You were in his car, travelling around the country, trying to find your favourite treat.

But pretty soon, Tallahassee became your favourite treat. One that you quickly got addicted to. You couldn’t get enough. If you weren’t trying to survive a zombie apocalypse, you’d be on him 24/7. You craved his touch, his lips, his rough hands on your skin.

It was never anything serious. Just two survivors using each other for pleasure. It was an unspoken arrangement, one that suited both of your needs in this new world. Until one night, everything changed.

You and your new group were at Pacific Playland. Little Rock found a Twinkie and passed it to Tallahassee and to your surprise, he broke it in half and gave some to you. You waste no time to put it on your tongue and you moaned at the taste you had missed so much. Little did you know that moan did a lot to Tallahassee.

He wiped a bit of cream filling from the corner of your mouth, and you playfully licked it off his finger. He pulled his finger away and before you knew what was happening, Tallahassee leaned in and kissed you. This kiss was different than any other the two of you had shared. Others were heated and desperate, driven by your mutual need to fuck each other. But this one was gentle and filled with something you never expected.

Love.

Tallahassee pulled away and looked into your eyes, his expression filled with tenderness and affection. You were taken aback, unsure of how to react. Love was something you never thought you would find. But here you were, feeling it with every beat of your heart.

You both stayed there in silence for a moment, processing what had just happened. Tallahassee was the first one to break the silence. “I...I didn't mean to do that,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

You reached out and took his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers. “It's okay,” you assured him. “I like it.”

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Tallahassee asks you, his rough thumbs stroking your cheeks. You blushed and looked down, feeling shy at his compliment. He lifts you head up to look at him, “I’m serious. You’re so beautiful. What are you doing with me?”

“I can’t say because there are little ears around,” you say with a smirk, but you look him up and down, eyes tracing his body, a body that you loved being under, licking your lips and you make it so obvious. You leaned over to his ear, lips touching the shell, "Take me home and I'll tell you," you gave him a little lick underneath his ear and walked away with an extra sway of your hips, knowing damn well he was staring at your ass.

Now 5 years later, you were still completely horny for your man, but you were in better control of it. Tallahassee on the other hand, still had a wild and untameable hunger for you, never wanting to keep his hands off of you, no matter where you were. And that is what got you in the position you were in right now. Trapped in a room with a horde of zombies outside.

You were on a supply run but Tallahassee couldn't help but notice the way you moved. The way your hips swayed as you walked, the way your hair bounced on your shoulders. He couldn't help but think of all the dirty thoughts that went through his mind whenever he saw you.

He was desperate. He wanted you. Sure you two hand sex every day but because of your other housemates, you have to be quiet. Tallahassee hated that. He loved to hear you.

As soon as that door shut, his hands were on you. Hungrily roaming over your body. You couldn't help but let out a gasp as Tallahassee pressed you up against the wall, his breath hot against your neck.

“Tally, what are you doing?”

“I need to feel you, Darlin’”

“Tal, not here. Besides, we had sex this morning. Can’t you wait until we get ba-?” your words are replaced by a moan when he presses his erection against your clothed core and started grinding against you.

He groans, “That’s why I can’t wait. I need to hear you. I never get to hear you,” his lips near your ear, “I want to hear you scream my name,”

You already knew you were soaked. The man in front of you only had to merely touch you and that was it, they were ruined.

“Please, Darlin’” he pleaded, his hips never stalling, “Please scream for your cowboy,”

You were gonna regret this weren’t you?

“Make it quick,”

He wasted no time. He dragged you away from the wall and towards a table. He pushed you face down over it and pushed your legs apart. You could feel your heart beating rapidly against the wood. He hastily pulled down his pants and positioned himself behind you, entering you roughly and without any hesitation. You let out a loud moan, your hands gripping the edges of the table. You could feel the table beneath you creak with the intensity of his thrusts.

But just as things started to heat up, a loud crash from outside the door snapped you both out of your trance. The sound of growling and shuffling feet filled the air.

The thing about where you were. It only had one door. Anger bubbled slightly within you as you realised you were trapped. You were angry at Tallahassee. You were angry with yourself for not having as much control as you thought you did. But you were mostly angry with Tallahassee.

“You got us into this, you get us out,” you told him angrily.

He laughed. He was fucking laughing right now.

“You're cute when you're angry,” he said, smirking.

“Cute? I'll show you cute when I use you as a distraction for those zombies,” you retorted.

#reader insert #female reader #tallahassee x reader #zombieland fanfiction #zombieland x reader #Tallahassee x you

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letters-unsending · 2 years ago

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Prompt 26

////

Hero is undercover as an underling and he’s formed an interesting connection with Supervillain’s Trainee.

////

“Hero,” the dark called from beside his bed, whispering. A hand materialized, white and thin-skinned, and prodded at his shoulder when he neglected to stir.

“Trainee,” Hero rolled on his side, slurring sleepily, “mm can't keep letting ya in here. Supervillain isn't gonna like finding ya hanging out with one of us unders.”

More of Trainee surfaced from the blackness: pale and wiry arms, a gaunt face. Hero blinked once, twice, then sighed. It was too late to deal with Trainee hanging like an apparition at his bedside. He didn’t have the patience to talk sense to a floating menagerie of limbs, but neither did he have the heart to bat away the fingers picking at the hem of his sleeve.

Trainee’s eyes melted out from hollow sockets, as liquid and dark as oil. Hero’s last bit of sense came sloughed off as they stared.

“C’mere and quit moping,” Hero leaned forward, tugging Trainee over himself and onto the other side of his bed. As he settled back in, Trainee became fully fleshed, sharp knees knocking into Hero’s thighs and hair furling out into a shock of liquid silver over his nose. Hero swung his arm about till he found the back of Trainee’s neck and settled his thumb and four fingers on both lateral tendons.

Trainee’s power roared, roiling like a tempest beneath his skin, which felt fevered as Hero palmed his nape. It reminded Hero of how you were supposed to hold a viper behind its head; one turn, one writhe and you’re powerless if it decides to strike. And yet, as he held the protege of Supervillain—successor to the man he’d dedicated his life to fighting—by the tender width of his neck, he only wished to stow him away from the pain of this world and teach him the kindness he’d lived bereft of.

He wasn’t a Villain yet. No, he was just a powerful young man caught in Supervillain’s vile mechanizations.

Even in the calmness of night, Trainee’s power sung through Hero’s bones, buzzing and burning like a shot of liquor. His strength was akin to Superhero’s now, even after only a half-year of training. The thought had Hero tracing Trainee’s neck with narrowed eyes. In the dim light, the upper knobs of his spine casted slight shadows. A bruise, colored black in the dark, stretched out from his shirt collar.

Hero recalled its making. He recalled the smack of Trainee’s shoulders, the half-yell that split through his clenched teeth, and the defeated slump of his body as Supervillain stormed from the training hall.

And then, he pinched down, stemming off the vicious flow of power with inkling of his own. Trainee hissed, leg kicking out at Hero’s ankle.

“I know, I know. Just a little more.” He whispered, grip firm. This was common form of power therapy, a method which cropped off the power from the source so the system could realign and better accommodate the pressure. Disorders like Trainee’s were prevalent in powerful individuals who were in the midst of developing their powers and Supervillain’s training methods only exacerbated the symptoms. “It’s my fault for making ya wait so long.”

Hero pushed until his fingers ached and Trainee turned lax, breaths thin and stuttering.

“This is much easier in a hospital, ya know,” he said, slowing releasing the tension and feeding Trainee’s power back through its natural course. “I don’t wanna keep on hurting ya like this.”

“I can’t leave here,” Trainee rasped.

“I’m sure ya can get a nurse on over. Keep their mouth shut with a bit of pay.” Hero was no longer pressing down, but didn’t move his hand, as he had their few sessions before. Instead, he started kneading ginger lines into where his grip had surely bruised, sliding from the curve of his shoulder to behind his ear, where his hair feathered out in silken wisps.

“You’re,” Trainee’s voice clipped off in a breath as Hero’s thumb idled a circle into his pulse, “good at this. I don’t need a nurse or a hospital.”

“Ya gonna get me in a tough place if he finds ya here.”

“I won’t let him hurt you.”

“And I sure don’t need a brat to protect me,” Hero felt up past Trainee’s neck and ruffled his hair. “He’s got ya doing enough as is.”

#writeblr #villain #writing prompt #hero #prompt #villain prompt #hero prompt #writing #villain x hero #hero x villain #trainee x hero #undercover hero

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burlesquedanceralice · 2 years ago

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All About Alice

Trigger Warnings: Death, bullying, and homophobia.

Basic Information

Full Name: Alice Lyn Kingsleigh

Nickname(s): N/A

Age: 25

Date of Birth: March 30th

Hometown: London, England

Current Location: Evermore, USA

Ethnicity: White

Nationality: British

Culture: UK

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She / Her

Orientation: Pan/Polysexual/romantic

Occupation: Burlesque Dancer/Waitress at Wonderland

Living Arrangements: Apartment

Language(s) Spoken: English, French

Accent: “Proper/Posh” British

Religion and Beliefs: Alice is a bit agnostic. She was raised Presbyterian, but never bought into it. It all sounded like a story to her, as do most other religions. Who is she to say who got the story of the literal universe correct?

Political Affiliation: Liberal

Social Issues: Alice believes in equality for all, and will fight for it when any opportunity arises.

Physical Appearance

Face Claim: Virginia Gardner

Complexion: Clear skin

Hair Color: Blonde

Eye Color: Blue

Height: 5′7

Weight: 130 lbs

Build: Slim

Tattoos: Splatterings of flowers under her breasts, along her ribcage, down her shoulders/arms, and down her hips. Lavender on her middle finger on her left hand.

Piercings: Basic ear piercings as well as more unusual ear piercings.

Scars: Alice has some scars on her hands, elbows, and knees from accidents when she was younger and would try to explore. They’re fairly minor and mostly healed.

Common Hairstyle: Mostly Alice just let’s her hair do what it’s going to do. She runs a brush through it and just leaves it however it is, which isn’t exactly crazy, but it’s definitely a natural wavy, full head of hair. Occasionally she’ll straighten or curl it, and might even wear a braid or some ribbons in her hair, but that’s mostly if she’s getting dressed up for an event or something similar.

Clothing Style: Quirky. Alice likes clothes that speak. (I could say that’s metaphorical, but Alice really does feel like she hears things speaking to her sometimes, so.) Anything that’s considered alternative or different or out-of-date calls to Alice. Basically, she has a unique sense of fashion made up from random finds in thrift shops and the like.

Mannerisms: Alice tucks her hair behind her ears a lot. It’s just sort of a quirk, she’s always trying to get her hair out of her face. She’s also restless, so her leg will bounce if she’s sitting still for too long.

Usual Expression: Curious and tentatively optimistic!

Health

Overall (do they get sick easily?): Alice is actually pretty healthy. She only gets really sick maybe once a year. Other than that, she just has pretty bad seasonal allergies that can sometimes develop into colds or sinus infections.

Physical Ailments: N/A

Neurological Conditions: Alice has Anxiety, Bipolar Disorder, and it is likely she has NOS (Dissociative Disorder Not Otherwise Specified) as well.

Allergies: Seasonal weather allergies

Sleeping Habits: Alice can fall asleep literally any time, anywhere. It’s been a problem in the past - falling asleep during lessons or in the car - and can still sometimes cause trouble to this day. Alice loves her sleep, and so she loves to nap. She just has such a hard time waking up. She never feels fully rested.

Grooming Habits: She takes good care of herself. She loves sleep, she loves bathing, and she enjoys painting her nails when she has the time and patience for it. Alice doesn’t go out of her way to participate in skin-care or go beyond what is necessary to stay clean, though.

Eating Habits: Not only is Alice a picky eater, but she also eats like a bird. She has never had a particularly large appetite, and her mother always yelled at her for “playing with her food.” (Okay, so half of the time in her mother’s defense, Alice was literally playing with her food.)

Exercise Habits: Alice likes to bike! It’s her most frequent form of exercise, since she doesn’t go out of her way to use a gym or anything.

Emotional Stability: Ask, and Alice will tell you very sternly that she is perfectly normal and emotionally stable, thank you very much. The truth is, however, she is anything but. Below any positive emotion, there is always a layer of brimming anxiety, threatening to push her into a polar opposite emotion. She tries to keep level-headed because she hates being labeled as “crazy,” but when she snaps, she snaps big.

Sociability: Alice is naturally curious, so she’s very sociable. She thinks that everyone is interesting in their own light, and everyone has a story to tell. And she wants to hear them all!

Body Temperature: She gets cold easily, and loves to bundle up.

Addictions: Easily addicted to alcohol and other substances once exposed, though she currently has no specific addictions.

Drug Use: Marijuana, the occasional opioid

Alcohol Use: She drinks to excess whenever she has the excuse to.

Personality

Archetype: The Explorer/The Activist

Positive Traits: Creative, curious, sensitive, unique

Negative Traits: Guarded, stubborn, flighty, distracted

Good Habits: Taking care of things around the house; going to sleep at the same time every night

Bad Habits: Sleeping too much, not eating enough, not cleaning her room or things often enough

Goals/Desires: Alice honestly just wants to live life and see where she ends up, she doesn’t really strive for anything in particular other than to make friends and be happy. Her biggest goal right now is to change how people are being treated at Wonderland.

Weakness: Her emotions.

Fears/Phobias: People thinking she’s crazy, being thrown into an asylum or mental institution, etc

Secrets: That she was briefly institutionalized after her parents death.

Regrets: Alice regrets being at a protest the night her parents died.

Proud Of: Her strength to keep trudging on after all she’s been through

Embarrassed By: Her toothy grin, her occasional clumsiness.

Attitude: Curious and realistic. She hopes for the best, but expects the worst in most situations.

Pet Peeves: Arrogance, mistreatment of others, lying

Inner Conflicts: Working for Reina, mainly. Wanting to explore but being trapped in Evermore.

Motivation: To be happy and normal, but an interesting enough person. To save others from injustice.

Hobbies: Reading, writing, baking, partying, adventure, etc.

Talents/Skills: Alice doesn’t really think she’s a good writer because she just kind of let’s her hands take over, but she is actually pretty good. She is a very skilled and knowledgeable lock-picker.

Intelligence: Alice is book-smart, having grown up with knowledge at her fingertips and a need to learn things beyond school curriculum.

Driving Style: Awful. Don’t let her on the roads, she’ll get you killed.

Favorites, Likes, and Dislikes

Weather: Alice honestly tries to make the most out of any weather, but she does love herself a beautiful, semi-cloudy afternoon.

Color: Yellow, Blue

Music: Indie, electropop, edm

Movies: She can’t sit still long enough to watch them, honestly

TV Shows: She really likes cartoons?? Adult and children shows alike; she likes shows like American Dad but also Adventure Time, for example

Books: Action/adventure or fantasy books are her go-tos!

Magazines: She finds magazines cliche and ridiculous, tbh

Sport: She doesn’t play any, though she’ll watch things like Rugby or Roller Derby for entertainment

Beverage: Tea, tea, and more tea

Food: She’s a big fan of sandwiches and pastries

Animals: Cats and rodents (i.e: hamsters, mice, gerbils, etc)

Quote: “One of the biggest lies we are told is that art has to be pretty and that it has to mean something. Sometimes art’s purpose is just being. It is alright if that is your purpose too.”

School Subject: History

Possession: Her father’s pocket-watch.

Websites: Instagram, TikTok

Favorite Toy or Game: Growing up she used to always love to play hide and seek. It was her absolute favorite - especially when no one knew she was playing. She liked it when people found her and seemed worried, even if it was only temporary and they got angry afterwards. Alice has also always been very good at chess as well as card games.

Family

Father: Thomas Kingsleigh [DECEASED]

Mother: Samantha Kingsleigh [DECEASED]

Father’s Occupation: Owner and CEO of Ascot Trading Industries

Mother’s Occupation: Homemaker

Siblings: One older sister

Birth Order: Youngest

Children: None

Other Close Family: None

Pet: A cat named Dinah

Family’s Financial Status: Extremely Wealthy

Relationship With Family: Alice loved her father, and was very much a “Daddy’s Girl.” She missed him when he was away on long trips and always ran into his arms when he returned, sucking up as much time with him as she could before he had to leave again. Her relationship with her mother was far more strained, as her mother was always nit-picking everything about her and coming down on her too harshly.

Home Life During Childhood: As a child, Alice got picked on a lot by her peers. Mostly, Alice remembers being alone quite a lot, and feeling awfully lonely.

Bedroom Through The Years: Alice’s bedroom in her family home has always been the same. Very pristine with elegant furnishings and little personal decor. When she turned ten, however, she got to pick out new bedding, and chose a fluffy white duvet with blue and yellow flowers sprawled all over it, and matching pillows. Her bedroom in her current apartment is much more personal. Plants and artwork everywhere, lots of books and journals, little trinkets, etc. It’s very light and cozy.

Best Memory: She has a vivid memory of her family taking her on a picnic when she was very, very little. They were in a field of flowers, and her mother read to Alice and her father while they ate and made commentary here and there.

Worst Memory: The death of her parents.

School

Type of Student: Alice is extremely easily distracted, but with the right teacher (or the most strict) she was very focused and did well.

Extra Curricular Activities: Theatre

Best Subject: History

Worst Subject: Math

Popular or Loner: Loner. Even before Alice begun getting home-schooled, she was bullied and harassed a lot by her peers for being a bit odd.

Schooling: Graduated from home schooling, graduated from Kingston University London.

Current Details and Relationships:

Town: Evermore, USA

Home: Apartment

Neighborhood: Apartment Complex

Car: None, but she has a bike!

Love Life: Impulsive and sporadic.

Best Friends: TBD

Other Friends: TBD

Enemies: Reina Amador

Past Lovers: Ronald: A boy Alice was foolish enough to snog at a party when she was sixteen and very drunk, and continued to fool around with for about a year and a half. He took her virginity and Alice was very certain she might have loved him. However, he broke up with her when a rumor started circulating that she was a “lesbo,” which grossed him out, and he verbally attacked her. They got into a fight, which ended with her having to be pulled off of him because she was scratching at his face. Elizabeth: Not really a past lover, but Elizabeth is a girl that Alice found herself growing close to at the same parties during which she met Ronald. They would get drunk, dance together, and always found themselves collapsed somewhere laughing by the end of the night if Alice wasn’t with Ron. She could swear she felt sparks with Elizabeth, and that their chemistry was almost tangible. But one night when she was drunk, Alice tried to kiss her, and Elizabeth promptly flipped her lid. She slapped Alice in the face and called her a “freak” and a “lesbo” before running off to tell everyone Alice had tried to force herself on her.

Extra

Zodiac Sign: Aires

MBTI: ENTP

Enneagram: 4w3, The Individualist/Aristocrat

Temperament: Sanguine

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good

Primary Vice: Lust

Primary Virtue: Humility

Element: Fire

Dream Career: Undecided

Dream Life: Happy and healthy, and loved, somewhere cozy and safe.

Important Events: -TBD

#[ about ]#[ hc ]

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arvale-artist · 30 days ago

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Kryphen's devil form.

The design for it is really well done. They could have made him transform into any type of grotesque monster or demon thing, but they didn't. Kryphen at this point just consumed all of Tsilon's magic... his body can't handle it, this amount of magic isn't made to be hold by a human body, and thus he transforms... into something that resembles Tsilon! That's so smart! He grows Tsilon's horns, his arms and legs developed the same shape and armour plating... except it looks like it's made out of his very bones poking through the skin isntead of scales or something. He grows a tail too, and even his face merges into something half human half Dragon/Tsilon. I like that he gets those really evil looking eyes as well, because at this point, he is fully mask off. Now we see the malice underneath all those facades.

#arvale #arvale journey of illusion #kryphen

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etruatcaelum · 1 year ago

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ELAH REVONTULET

PHYSICAL

Stocky in life; unnaturally tall since his death, and being no wider than before, appears proportionally to be rail-thin. Flesh is dead-pale, embalmed, peeling away to expose livid muscle or white bone. Sharp yellowed teeth. Hair is really a pelage. Close inspection would reveal a pair of small ears hidden in the fur: those of a Solitan fox, one of them half missing. Shoulders and back bristle with long bone-like quills. Crimson venation is visible where his bone is exposed, in the same branching, feathered, lightning-struck pattern Salem has. Elongated limbs. But for his face, most of his body is scabrous grimm hide.

Eyes: the left has an inky sclera and a brilliant silver iris, lacking a pupil. His right socket is filled with atrum and a bead of ever-burning flame.

STYLE

Robes, usually with elaborate ornamentation. He likes beading and embroidery, favoring sharp geometric patterns and flowing lines that resemble grimm venation. Black, midnight blue, shades of indigo, maroon, jade.

His emblem is a winged hound, depicted in profile, crouched upon a human skull.

THE HOUND

Much like Cinder's arm, the Hound is fully under Elah's control. It grows in and out of his right eye.

Elah has been dead, by the time the plot of RWBY begins, for seventy-eight years; what remains of his original body is very decayed, having been allowed to rot before he resorted to embalming. The Hound itself, Salem modeled after a rare morph of grimm called the bisclavert.

Wild bisclaverts are parasites carried in the jaws of larger grimm, until they can enter the bloodstream of a suitable host through a bite. Bisclavert infections—uniquely among parasitic forms of grimm—are seldom fatal, as the grimm adapts itself to replace the internal structures of the host body one by one, until the host is physically dependent upon the grimm to survive. (Those infected by bisclaverts are, however, caput gerat lupinum under Valean law and can be killed with impunity; few survive past the point where they begin to develop obvious visible signs.)

The Hound is morphologically similar, but was formed from the true pool of grimm—the wellspring in Salem's soul, not the unliving atrum that can be found on Remnant's surface—and infused with the living waters of the fountain of life before being bound to Elah's soul. The upshot is that it's a kind of eldritch life support with regenerative and shape-changing capabilities on par with Salem's.

When Elah brings out the Hound, his body sort of... deflates. His head is better preserved than the rest of him, but inside the hound he's little more than bones wrapped in tattered, half-rotten skin. When he is in, for lack of a better phrase, person mode, the Hound is on the inside serving as muscles and organs and so on.

AURA

Silver. Like Salem, when he draws it out, it chars and disperses like smoke, and he can use it to mimic ancient magic the same way she does.

SEMBLANCE

He calls it Giddy Flame. Elah can extend his aura in long ribbons and then ignite it, producing a pale, cold-burning, greenish light. These ribbons of light undulate and ripple like streams of fiery water, and unless he sends them elsewhere, they'll flow in his wake as he moves. He can also separate pieces and leave them burning in place as small baubles of ghostly fire.

The light cast by Giddy Flame fascinates grimm, but they can't cross over or through it. Long before he met Salem, Elah used his semblance to go among grimm... and grew fascinated just as fascinated with them as they were with his flames.

His semblance isn't suppressed by the Hound, although of course he no longer needs it to protect himself from grimm. He uses it to communicate, guide his allies, disorient foes and lead them astray, and provide illumination for himself in absolute darkness—even by fauni standards, his vision in the dark is so exceptional that he can see clearly by Giddy Flame alone.

HISTORY

Elah was born in Mantle half a century before the Great War and, in his youth, passed himself off as a human for long enough to study classic literature and history at the prestigious Ambergris College for two years. During his enrollment, he was noted by peers and professors alike as a brilliant young man, if... unusual. During his second year of study, he became keenly interested in a dangerous crackpot theory about religious connections between ancient demes—the nomadic fauni communities of the Taiyin Steppe—and grimm, which ultimately led to him being found out as a faunus and expelled.

Following this incident, he disappeared into the disorderly ranks of conspiracy theorists, grifters, and dedicated mystics who comprised Mantle's thriving occult community.

During that time that Elah began to develop an interest in silver. He did not have silver eyes in life—although his eyes were a striking steely color that did cause occasional excitement in the esoteric circles he traveled—but his aura was silver, and the flame of his semblance seemed to both repulse and fascinate the grimm in a manner not dissimilar to certain fantastical tales of argents.

So he walked among them, studied them, learning them and—he would later come to understand—being learned by them. His earlier interest in ancient fauni worship of grimm returned with a vengeance and mingled with his philosophical ideas on the nature of silver, yielding a new theory on the metaphysical relationship between silver and grimm.

After the passage of the Interdiction—Mantle's brutally repressive crackdown on free expression, which included unsanctioned occultism of the kind Elah practiced—he left the kingdom altogether, built himself a camp, and began to live full time in the Coldfire Waste, far to the north of Mantle.

It was then that the horde he'd been studying, which had begun to think of him as its person and didn't know how best to insure his well-being, turned to Salem for help.

Elah recognized her at once as a figure out of the obscure myths he'd spent his youth immersed in, and to his delight it swiftly became apparent that she was just as fascinated by his theories as he was. The pair of them spent most of the fractious decades preceding the Great War and a large portion of the war itself collaborating on what might be described, delicately, as outrageously dangerous alchemical research. (Among other things, Elah began to make a regular practice of consuming atrum for no real purpose other than to find out what would happen.)

Just two years before the ratification of the Vytal Accords, Elah—by then nearly sixty and in quite poor health—died. Salem buried him in the heart of his horde's territory in accordance with his dying wish and returned to her home in Alukah.

Four years after that, he turned up on her doorstep again: still apparently in his late fifties and very ill, but certainly more alive than anyone who'd spent the last few years buried under permafrost had any right to be. Both he and she were confounded. Further experimentation led them to conclude that the cumulative effect of their research, together with the touch of the void in Elah's soul and its interaction with the sheer quantity of atrum he'd imbibed over the years, had left him... mortal in death, just as in life. Some disruption in the afterlife had enlivened him there and cast his soul and self back into his body.

This made for an unpleasant existence, but there didn't seem to be anything to do except live (and die) with it. Each time he returned again, his eyes shaded closer to silver; besides this, his peculiar form of immortality effected no discernible physical change. His body aged while he lived and rotted while he died; thus his physical condition steadily deteriorated.

By the present, his body was in such poor shape that he would die again within mere minutes of each revival, and Salem had resigned herself to keeping him in cold storage until the end of time.

Then Cinder inadvertently gave her reason to question their long-held belief that silver eyes could only harm grimm, and later to take a stab at drawing grimm from a human soul. The wheels started turning; she hit on the idea of providing Elah with a living body he might inhabit for more than a few painful minutes at a time.

The Hound experiment was not a complete success, before he died again in Atlas, but its regenerative and metamorphic abilities allow him to regrow his body once he comes back to life—several weeks after the city falls—whereupon he fishes himself out of the sea no worse for where and rejoins Salem in Vale.

MAJOR HEADCANONS

On Silver –> & Addendum: On Silver Bloodlines Myth: Creation of the Grimm –> & Addendum: Origin of Atrum On the Creatures of Grimm –> & Addendum: On Revenants

PRINCIPAL ALLUSIONS

His canonical allusion is obscure, aside from the obvious but rather arbitrary Fox and the Hound reference; but come tin hat with me. I think he's based on the H.P. Lovecraft short story The Hound. If the ghoul stalking his victims in the guise of a monstrous bat-winged hound fits...

Maiden-in-the-Tower Stories –> Petrosinella's hound. Obviously.

OTHER NOTES

Salem's lineup of weird little freaks feels incomplete without the kind of Lovecraftian mad alchemist who would drink the grimm slime. You feel me?

He is, of course, thoroughly off his rocker.

Though successful in that it got him out of the sarcophagus, the original experiment was quite rudimentary; Elah could barely speak and was in a considerable amount of pain, despite improving by leaps and bounds once he was lively enough to offer even the most basic gestural feedback. After going through a few more iterations in Vale to resolve these problems, he becomes, shall we say, a lot more personable.

Notwithstanding the decay and the unpleasantness of ping-ponging back and forth between alive and dead, he's fairly cheerful about the whole situation and well past any feelings of horror or existential dread.

He reeks like a charnel house. Because he's dead. Sorry.

#about.

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angeldcgs · 8 months ago

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was it the residual blood lust leading him to lap up every little streak he'd left smeared on her skin? just a way to comfort her after being left on the edge of consciousness? or were his true desires finally flooding to the surface now that he'd almost lost her? devyn was already confused in general, but she couldn't pin down any one thread and follow it— there was just a vague swirling mass of question marks floating around in her brain, too exhausted to think critically. while she didn't know and couldn't begin to guess what it meant, what she did know was that she wanted it, and it was frustrating that she was too weak to do anything about it. aside from that, she did feel a sense of satisfaction at knowing that she'd successfully satiated his thirst, as if it wasn't something that could be accomplished by every other human in the world. "good." a smile spread over her face, adopting the same delusionally satisfied expression worn by drunks and lunatics. "sssgood? tastes good?" she hoped he couldn't taste the cigarette she smoked before she came over— or maybe he liked that. if it hadn't been good, eddie likely wouldn't have gotten so carried away and nearly drained her, seeing as he'd lived long enough to have developed at least some form of self control, and he had mentioned to her before how fragrant her blood was. she didn't need to be told to know it was good, but was it so wrong to fish for compliments when he usually offered her so little in that regard? what she really yearned for was some sort of confession of his feelings, to know what he truly thought of her, but she'd take whatever she could get out of him. whether or not he admitted it, though, she felt love all around her as he'd drank; love in the form of teeth sunk into her throat, love sucked straight from her veins and into his greedy maw, love in the mercy he'd shown when he stopped, no matter how reluctantly. "mmmm," she tried to nod in confirmation, but her head felt so heavy, she could barely make it twitch. "pleash." even though she'd asked for it, she still pouted at the loss of his body weight pressing her down into the mattress, finally regaining enough stamina to lift her arm a few inches off the bed and reach for him as he retreated from the room before inevitably dropping it back down when her strength waned. time was a foreign concept, as all devyn could do was lay there focus on slowly regaining her vitality, her senses trickling back in as she came to understand her predicament. it wasn't just a matter of feeling a little lightheaded or a brief bout of weakness, her condition was more serious than she'd initially been aware of, but she forced herself to remain calm. there wasn't much else to do, anyway; panicking over how she could barely even move would only waste much needed energy, and she trusted that eddie would do everything in his power to help nurse her back to health. she didn't know how long he was gone, likely only a minute or two before he was rushing back into the room with a glass of juice and cookies, just as she'd requested. luckily, she didn't even need to support her own neck, as he took on the responsibility of propping her up and holding the glass to her lips. as soon as the sweet liquid met her tongue, it was like being brought back to life, beginning to take greedy gulps despite his guidance, some of the sticky nectar dribbling out of the sides of her mouth and down her chin in her haste to consume as much as she could as fast as possible. once she'd emptied half the glass, spilling almost as much as she swallowed, devyn pulled back slightly, looking up at eddie and fully noticing just how bloody he was. rather than disgust, she felt her gut flip from something closer to desire, gaze fixated on his bloodied mouth as her heart rate kicked up to a heightened speed in stark contrast to its former dull thumping. "thank you..." her voice was still a mumble, but decidedly clearer, one hand drifting up of its own volition and absentmindedly brushing her fingertips over his blood painted lips.

after working hard to keep their relationship as platonic as possible, mainly on account of his bad experience with having to let people go in the past, it was undoubtedly confusing for devyn to have eddie suddenly showering her with affection. his flurry of sloppy kisses was the release of weeks and weeks of harboured feelings, daydreams and desires he'd kept beaten down because they hurt too much to consider for long. he'd been forced into a state of celibacy from any kind of intimacy because of his certainty of harm, if not to the others around him then at least to himself but after sharing such an intense experience with devyn, how was he expected not to let wayward feelings swim to the surface? "i'm sure." he could've drank more but why would he risk her life for a couple more days of strength? she'd already given him so much, more than she ever needed to and eddie felt greedy enough as it was. he felt terrible, even though he had only done as she wished. it occurred to him that devyn's willingness to let him feed with reckless abandon was not only an example of her care for him but a lack of care for herself. it hurt to imagine that he was fulfilling some kind of secret ache for destruction, especially when all he'd ever wanted for her was to feel safe in his presence. his thin brows drew close as he focused on what she was trying to say, his eyes settled on her mouth and while he tried to concentrate, after all the kisses he had laid across her features it was impossible to not wonder about the one place he hadn't laid his lips. it made him feel like a bad person, already a predator for what he had taken from her and then a pervert for getting distracted by his own stupid feelings when her wellbeing should have been his greatest concern. "orange juice?" he repeated blankly, his frown only deepening as she continued to speak but he quickly came to understand what she was trying to get across. "you want- okay. okay, give me a second." as gracefully as he could, eddie climbed off from on top of devyn and stumbled to his feet, shaky like a newborn deer but quick to catch his balance. before leaving his room he took one last look at her on his bed, laid out like a corpse and painted red with his clumsy attempts to hold her. without another word, he darted out of the door and went into the kitchen. the only food he had around was for his guests, he didn't eat any of it and had often joked that it was his lack of hunger that had kept him so lanky and frail throughout his life. the glass he poured the orange juice into became smudged with blood too, as did anything eddie touched in his hurry to find what devyn needed. he could have paused to watch his hands but he wasn't thinking straight, much too concerned with the speed at which he returned to her to think about the mess he was leaving in his wake. he can't have been gone for more than a minute or two before he appeared back through the doorway, balancing a glass of orange juice and a couple stale cookies from the back of his cupboard. he sat down on the edge of the bed once putting the cookies down on his bedside table and carefully hooked his arm around devyn, encouraging her to sit up so he could hold the glass up to her lips. "there you go... nice and slow."

#{ devyn de silva — thread }#{ devyn vs. eddie }#thcophagy

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projectgalaxyfae · 2 years ago

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Life Cycle & Ageing - Pixiula Biology

Life Span:

The average life span of a Pixiula is about 150 years, with the age of full maturity for a Pixiula being 20 years old, while a Pixiula will be considered a elderly or old person at about 120 years old.

Egg Development & Pregnancy:

For Pixiula pregnancy is only one part of egg development, with a Pixiula only being “pregnant” for 4 months before they would "birth" to 2 eggs, in witch the babies would continue development in the laid eggs.

The Egg would have a soft shell when laid but would swell in size then harden in a few hours, from the day the egg is laid it takes about 8 more mouths until it hatches with a newly born baby.

When a Pixiula gets pregnant and eventually lays it's eggs, that respective Pixiula can not get pregnant aging until about one and a half year later. this developed as a way for the body to recover in-between children.

Babies:

Notably Pixiula normally have 2 children at once, with them commonly having twins, and it is mainly with fraternal (non-identical) twins with identical twins being on the much rarer end.

Pixiula are born with out any type of hair, no visible plumage nubs, no back markings, shorter antennae, and no reproductive organs + genitalia, and there skin is a pale white color with a very mild undertone of the color they would develop as they grow.

As a baby Pixiula can walk within a few days of being born, with hand and tail related motor silks starting to develop within a moth of birth, and finally starting to pick up on bit of language at 4 mouths after birth.

Child development:

As a Pixiula grows thay will go into developmental metamorphosis a few different times of there life, a Pixiula will enter there first developmental metamorphosis at about age 2 with the most notable changes are: Development of hair, body fur, and the underlying color of the body becoming more noticeable.

The next developmental metamorphosis happens at age 8 with the young Pixiula now developing back markings, longer antennae, and once again the skin tone becoming closer to that of there adult skin color.

Teen-hood & adulthood:

A Pixiula will start to enter there form of teen-hood at age 14 after they go through developmental metamorphosis for a 3 time of their life, After this metamorphosis the Pixiula will now have visible Plumage Nubs, the ability develop Plumage, and the darkening of the skin tone around there head, ears, lower arms, lower legs, & tail end.

Pixiula will be considered an adult after there final developmental metamorphosis witch they have at age 20, with the main changes of this metamorphosis being the development of there Reproductive Organs, genitalia, and the final color shift to there skin tone.

To note that even after there final developmental metamorphosis Pixiula will go trough a recovery metamorphosis every 5 years, with any smaller injuries and scars being fully heald, also a Pixiula skin and fur coloration will continues to darken but the shift is only notable after every few metamorphosis or 15 years or so.

Elderly & Late Life:

The main change that comes from late adulthood is Old Age Infertility witch effects all Pixiula regardless of what kind of Reorlductive Organs one have. Old Age Infertility Usually kicks in around the age of 70 and is one of the first signs that one is becoming elderly.

The main key sign that Old Age Infertility is kicking in is Plugmage taking longer to regrow and eventually will not re-grow all together.

Other things that may set in as a Pixiula becomes old are: Tone Deafness, mild Light Sensitivity, Decreases in Tail Dexterity, Over all Decrease in Strength, Need for more sleep, Temperature sensitivity & hair turning gray, white or even sliver.

Death & Death Ceremonies:

Pixiula are a long lived species but they are still beholden to death, The main 5 causes of death are: Being killed by large wild animals, Extreme Weather (including Blizzards, Sandstorms, & Heatwaves), Natural Distastes (including Wildfires, Earthquakes, & Tsunamis), Fighting / Combat / War, and old age.

Regardless of how one dies, a death ceremonies is held for them thought what the ceremonies included is very much dependent on ones own cultural background. Generally a death ceremonies induces a gathering of family, and closes friends, with small gifts from the living placed onto the deceased by a priest before the bodies is ether buried, mummified and then buried or cremated with the gifts.

after the burial it is stranded to hold a short party that is typically done up with the preferences of the deceased as a final good buy to them, and then those who are close to the deceased will receive a kind of spiritual charm from the earlier mentioned priest as a memento for the deceased person.

Pixiula Contents page / Index

Updated - 24th March 2024

#Pixiula #Pixiula Design #Pixiula notes #Pixiula biology #Pixiula species #original species #my species #new species #fictional species #fantasy species #sci-fi species #species concept #species info #species lore

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those-late-night-feels · 2 years ago

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Unexpected

Part 2

His skin grazed against yours, sending shivers down your spine. Your back leaned against the wall as he roamed every inch of your body, your collarbone, your chest, your stomach, your thigh. Fingernails dragged over his sculpted chest, a sharp hiss emerging from his mouth, before it was on top of yours. He spun you around, your palms pressed against the wall in submission, your legs shaking in anticipation. He dragged the tips of his fingers up the back of your thigh, closer and closer…

You opened your eyes, registering the alarm on your end table and turned it off. You rubbed your eyes, the memory of your dream coming back to the surface.

No…you thought, it couldn't possibly have been... You groaned in annoyance. That arrogant asshole was now invading you in your sleep.

Shaking the image of his naked form from your mind, you tried to focus on the agenda for the day as you got ready, pulling on a white skirt, silky camisole and white matching short-sleeved jacket. You slipped on the highest pair of heels you own, ignoring the fact that it had more to do with not wanting to crane your neck to look up at the towering god than it had to do with fashion.

When you met with Pepper and Tony in her office later that morning, you were fully prepared to be reprimanded for your actions the previous evening in Loki's apartment. You gave them an update on the developments of the fundraiser you were assisting Pepper on, who had rsvp'd to the event, potential donors, and all the last minute details before the big event coming up.

"Impressive y/n," Tony started. "And how are things going with the horned beetle? Is he behaving himself?"

You snorted at the nickname. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Good. Alright, ladies," Tony stood, "if there's nothing else, I have a new suit that is calling me for a test run. Y/n, there are a few things I'll need you to find for me. I'll text you."

So Loki hadn't complained about your unfortunate accident. You spent the rest of your day doing research for Tony's requests to help modify his Iron Man suits and assisting Pepper in her office with the fundraiser, occasionally glancing at your cell phone. Nothing. It hadn't buzzed all day. You were tempted to make an excuse and go up to check if everything was okay.

No, y/n, you thought. Ignore him. He's playing games with you.

*****

The sun was setting and not one call or text from him. You should be grateful, you told yourself. You actually got through to him. But, even if you wouldn't dare admit it to yourself, you somewhat missed the constant pings.

Maybe it was the high of feeling needed.

You walked into your office near the end of the day to finish up a few emails and call it a night.

"Have a busy day, darling?"

You shrieked, your heart palpitating. The dark-haired Asgardian sat in a plush velvet armchair in the corner, his feet propped up on the ottoman beside, holding a book casually, like he'd been there a while.

"Loki, what the fuck? You scared me half to death! What are you doing in here?"

He raised an eyebrow like it was obvious. "Waiting for you."

You sighed, he was impossible. "How did you even get in here?"

He flicked his fingers, the security badge magically appearing in his hand.

"And?"

"And," he continued, flicking the security badge back into thin air, "I would like to test just how good at your job you claim to be."

Crossing your arms, you pursed your lips in annoyance. You had half a mind to tell him to get out, but your curiosity got the better of you. When you didn't say anything in response, he continued. "Books."

You scoffed in surprise. "Was the library I put together not enough?"

"Of Midgardian literature, yes." He shut the book he had been holding and came to stand in front of you. You were reminded of your selectively high heels as he came eye to eye with you. "But I am looking for Asgardian texts. And as—"

"Asgard is no more," you softly interjected.

"Right. So, as you can imagine, it makes my desire for it so much stronger." You tried not to stare at his lips as he spoke. Stay professional, you told yourself. But the effect that his proximity was starting to have on you was not lost.

It was that damn dream. Stop it. It meant nothing.

"Alright, I'll see what I can find," you said, trying not to sound breathless.

He smiled warmly. "I look forward to it."

*****

To your surprise, Asgardian literature was more difficult to locate than you had anticipated. You had thought that once Earth had learned of the mighty Thor and the other inhabited worlds that publishers would have a field day with new literature, but that was simply not the case.

While unsure if you just wanted to prove a point or if you were genuinely curious, you spent the rest of your evening at home on the couch doing research while Netflix played in the background.

Yawning, you clicked on a link for a humble bookstore in Iceland which mentioned texts on Valhalla. You sent an email inquiring about their sources and possible shipping timelines. To your surprise, you heard a ping on your computer while brushing your teeth. The book owner had responded, stating that they indeed had ancient texts and for the right price would be shipped internationally. After a round of emails, you had two books scheduled for a priority shipment in the morning after paying a hefty fee on the Stark International credit card. Your ego couldn't get much bigger.

*****

When the first box arrived on your desk later that week, you couldn't wait to open it up. You hadn't given Loki much of an update on your progress when he had casually stopped by the next day, just that you had a few promising leads. You didn't want to give him false hope.

But when you peeled back the protective cushions wrapped around the book and opened it up to see runes, you were almost positive you hit the jackpot.

Stacking the two books gently on top of each other, you headed up to his apartment, excited to show him what you found.

Knocking on his door, you couldn't hold back a cheesy grin. He opened the door, eyebrow raised when he saw it was you.

"I'm very good at my job," you said, and walked past him into his apartment. You carefully set down the books on the table, presenting them to him. He strolled over, his eyes on the dark blue and gray books.

"What's this?" he asked with an amused expression. But you didn't answer, allowing him to discover on his own.

With the tips of his fingers, he ran them over the symbols on the front cover. You watched as his curious expression slowly dropped. He cracked open the cover of the first book, the delicate pages falling open, and his breath faltered. It was like you weren't even there any longer, he was so engaged with the pages. You chuckled to yourself. "I'll let you enjoy them in peace."

You made your way past him to the door. Noticing your exit, he reached out and grabbed you by the arm, turning you around. He stepped closer, the distance between you only mere inches. He silently studied you, as if trying to find words to say.

You leaned back and smiled at him. "I've never known you to not have something to say."

He looked from your eyes to your lips and back again, gauging your reaction. Don't do this, you thought. Don't mix business with pleasure.

"Yes, well…" he said. "Thank you."

You placed your free hand on his. "That's my job, Loki."

Coffee Tips

He understood your answer and let go. Standing at the door, you turned back to him before you left. "Don't question how good I am at it again."

Part 3

Tag list: @lovelysizzlingbluebird @ladymischief11

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starlitangels · 3 years ago

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A Skyside Morning

A fantastic Anon request for Vincent and Lovely during their little Skyside vacation! 1.6k words

—

I’d gotten very used to waking up sore in the year-and-a-half Vincent and I had been together. This morning was no exception. We didn’t play super rough but we both had a tendency to get carried away.

I peeled open my tired eyes to see Vincent sleeping peacefully beside me, glossy black curls pooled on his pillow.

Actually, my pillow, given he was sleeping barely a few inches from my face.

I pulled back just a little to get a better look at him—and heaved a sigh. We’d gotten sloppy. There were a few drops of my blood on the pillowcase. The bite hadn’t fully healed. Usually Vincent slipped healing magic into his bites as he withdrew his fangs from my neck, but this one hadn’t had enough magic in it, apparently.

I swore quietly under my breath.

Vincent inhaled deeply as he came back to consciousness. “Good morning, little one,” he said quietly, voice husky from sleep. His morning voice was always cute.

“Morning, lover boy,” I said with a lazy grin.

“Sleep well?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Always, when you’re here.” He snuggled closer to me—and paused as he caught sight of my blood on the pillowcase. He swore under his breath too. “Guess we got carried away.”

I nodded. “Hang on. Let me try something. There’s a Freelancer in one of my Energetic classes who’s magic-born. Been teaching me little... quality-of-life tricks,” I said. Closing my eyes, I focused on my magic. It was... hard to separate the lightning from everything else. The lightning was all I knew, when it came to magic. I’d tried other branches of magic, but nothing came easy apart from lightning.

Prying the storm in my blood away from the rest of my magic was hard, but I managed to release a scouring spell that lifted the blood out of the pillowcase.

Vincent was smiling, broad and with that dopey, lovesick look on his face, when I opened my eyes. “You’re more incredible every day, baby,” he said softly. He reached out a hand and brushed the backs of his soft, pale fingers down my cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Vincent,” I replied.

Of course, my stomach decided to kill the mood at that moment by rumbling loudly.

Vincent smiled. “Shall we go get some breakfast?”

“Sure.” I tried to shrug it off, play it cool, but his cute little giggling was impossible not to join in with.

He swung himself out of bed lithely, throwing off the covers from both of us just to be a twerp and expose me to the cold. Then laugh as I yelped and huddled against the chill winter morning air.

Laughing, he scooped me up against his bare chest. “C’mere, baby,” he said. Heat clung to his skin and I huddled close to him in an attempt to absorb it. Vincent laughed and buried his nose in my shoulder as he carried me out of the master suite. “You’re so cute.”

“It’s cold,” I muttered, “don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not,” he protested. Half-heartedly. He started humming a jaunty tune as he strolled casually to the kitchen with me in his arms like I was light as a bundle of grapes.

When we reached the kitchen, he set me down on the kitchen island’s white marble countertop.

“Alright. What should we make?” he asked, pecking a kiss to my cheek.

—

I sat on a dining chair, knees curled up to my chest, pulled up next to Vincent at the piano bench, listening to him play. There was something beautiful but amusing between the contrast of the finely-polished black grand piano—and Vincent sitting at its keys with no shirt and a pair of plaid fleece pajama bottoms. Sun glinting gently off his pale skin.

I listened with my eyes closed for a while. Vincent was a talented pianist. Apparently his mom was a piano teacher when he was growing up and forced him to learn. He’d told me he’d hated it and resisted for years. But after he’d turned it had become a form of solace for him, and he’d dived headfirst back into playing. He’d re-taught himself everything his mom had pushed him to learn and developed his own skill from there.

His music seemed to spin around me, blocking out the rest of the world, until it was just me and him and the piano.

When he finished the piece he was playing, he let the last chord sustain for quite a while before lifting his foot off the pedal.

He released a long sigh and opened his eyes. The silver of his irises flashed in the sunlight. He gave me a smile, the barest points of his fangs peeking out just a little longer than usual. “How was that?” he asked.

“Beautiful. As always,” I replied.

He smiled. “Thank you, baby,” he said. The corners of my mouth lifted without me even trying. God, he made me so happy.

“Anything else you wanna do this morning, Vin?”

He glanced around Skyside. “Well. I told you that I wanted to show you how much I love you in every room in this house.”

“Hide-and-seek?” I asked, sitting up.

Vincent laughed. “You do remember I’m a vampire, right? I can hear your heartbeat from halfway across the city. I know yours better than anyone else’s. Plus, you have one of the strongest Electro Energetic signatures in the entire country.”

I pouted. “That’s cheating.”

He kept laughing. “Fine, fine. I will try to play hide-and-seek without any of my abilities.”

I beamed. “Great! Onetwothree not it!” I bolted from my chair and ran off.

Vincent could have caught up to me in half a second, but instead I heard him laugh from somewhere behind me and start counting. “I’m giving you to a hundred!” he called after he reached five.

Once he was at fifteen, I stopped running and started sneaking. The house was quite solidly built, and the stairs didn’t even creak as I crept up them.

There were several rooms upstairs. All with at least queen-size beds, some with king, with two guest rooms to a bathroom. I worked my way past all those to a fancy sunroom—solarium, whatever—outfitted with sofas and armchairs. And bookcases. Several bookcases. Most of which were full of gorgeous first-edition classics that I wouldn’t trust myself to touch.

I smirked and tugged on one of the shelves gently. It didn’t give. Closing my eyes, I pushed a bit of power out of my veins and into the electric rail the bookcase was on.

It slid quietly to the side, revealing a small office-like room. I slipped inside and closed the bookcase behind me. The nice thing about my magic was I could understand the layouts of houses quickly by feeling the power in the lines without even trying. I’d felt this office the second we’d passed through the sunroom on the brief, quick tour Vincent had given me last night. Even though we’d both been... distracted.

And, sure, William designed the place so Vincent probably knew this cubby was here, but I hoped it wouldn’t be the first place he’d look.

“...ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one-hundred!” Vincent called. “Ready or not, here I come!”

I tucked myself behind the desk and grinned.

And waited.

I mean, I know the house is big... but is it that big? I thought after I’d been sitting on the floor behind the desk for three minutes. I kept my magic to myself. It didn’t feel fair to ask him not to track me with his powers and then use mine to track him—even if I was the one hiding and he was the one seeking.

I kept one hand over my mouth, trying to keep my breathing as silent as possible. Vincent could hear me from my old apartment all the way to his house, so vampire hearing was incredibly acute. He’d be able to hear me.

“Boo.”

I shrieked so loud that Vincent recoiled and hit the far wall. The lights in the whole house flickered on before shorting out and turning off.

Vincent laughed, gathering me to his chest. “Ohhh lovely—you’re so cute,” he said, still laughing.

I pouted again. “You’re mean,” I said.

“Whaaat?” Vincent teased. “How am I mean?”

“Sneaking up on your partner—the love of your life, need I remind you—to scare them—is mean, Vincent.” The fact that I was smiling definitely gave away the fact that my pouting was for show, and it made him laugh. “How’d you even sneak up on me, anyway? I should have felt that bookcase’s rails power up.”

Vincent smirked. “It only needs power if a human tries to push it. If a vampire does, it glides right out of the way.” He winked at me. “Little trick Will put in place. The bookcase is too heavy for humans.”

“Rude,” I muttered.

Vincent held me tighter—and in the blink of an eye, I was back on the piano bench. “Your turn,” he whispered, kissing my forehead. “Close your eyes, lovely.”

“Looking away from that handsome face should be a crime,” I said, giving him a smirk. I took a deep breath. “But,” I continued with a sigh, “I understand the reasoning.”

Vincent grinned. “You’re cute,” he said.

I dramatically covered my eyes with one hand. “One... two... three... I’m giving you to twenty, lover boy. Four... five... six...”

Zip!

#Redacted ASMR #fic #Redacted Vincent #Redacted Lovely #Vincent Solaire #Lovely #Vincent #pianist vincent has become more well known and i'm running with it #Starlit Fic

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years ago

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Calling Out For Her

Cassandra Dimitrescu x She/Her Reader

A/N: Cassandra is my favorite I just love that girl. I thought it was real neat that Lady D could just call out for her and she’d appear so that inspired this. Some typical resident evil violence and language in here and Cassandra isn’t exactly nice at first, but she figures out how to be personable...kinda. Thanks for reading! Word Count: 6,158

(Y/n) was exceptionally careful. If tasked to understand what had allowed her to survive in the castle for so long, she would say it was because she was so careful, meticulous, with her work. All she had to do was follow a certain set of rules.

A polite tone brimming with reverence, ‘Yes Lady Dimitrescu’ or, ‘yes ladies Bela, Cassandra and Daniela’. Never a no, even if warranted, unless you want your eyes level with your toes and cool air meeting your stump of a neck. Always serve with a curtsy, never meet their eyes, never ask questions, keep your head down and clean, clean, clean like your life depends on it because like with everything else, it does.

The bottom line was that (Y/n) knew how to survive in the castle of Dimitrescu. It took tact, forward thinking, and a bit of luck. But today, after a very respectable nine months of service, (Y/n)’s luck had apparently run out. She had royally fucked up.

“Oh, fuck me—!“ (Y/n) hissed, followed by a sharp gasp as her grip slipped because of the dip of the chandelier.

She had no one to blame but herself. She had been assigned to clean the banisters and chandeliers of the foyer and had leaned out just a little too far with her duster. Thus, her scramble for purchase on the confounding light fixture to save her from cracking her skull on the marble floor below.

“H...help!” (Y/n) called, barely above her usual speaking tone. She dared not speak louder for fear of alerting any of the bloodthirsty daughters of her predicament. She could only hope one of her fellow maids was working nearby.

“No, nonono—“ the words left (Y/n)’s mouth faster than her lips could move. One of the metal weldings that held up the chandelier was creaking and becoming dangerously loose as time ticked by.

“Help!” (Y/n) called a little louder, the desperation bleeding into her tone as her fingers dug painfully into the decorative, jewel encrusted rim of the chandelier.

Yet still not a sound besides the creak of old metal giving way. Nine months of service to the Lady of the Castle and this was never how (Y/n) imagined she’d go. It wasn’t uncommon for some maids to take their life by their own hand, but (Y/n) wanted to keep fighting—!

“Ah!” (Y/n) cried sharply. The chandelier’s tether frayed a bit further, causing it to drop a few inches. She was fully panicking now, arms aching and chest heaving as she dangled. She made the mistake of looking at the cold, hard floor below and that only made her heart beat faster. She didn’t want to go out like this!

The chandelier fell another inch, stinging (Y/n)’s fingers. She was gripping so hard she was sure her fingers must have been bleeding. She needed someone, anyone to come and somehow in her panicked state, she thought of her Lady. If her Lady needed something done and done fast, all she had to do was call out her name and she would be there in an instant. Somehow in (Y/n)’s desperate mind, she thought that calling upon the most ruthless of the Dimitrescu Family was her best course of action.

“Cassandra!” (Y/n) yelled, closing her eyes tightly and fighting to maintain her precarious grip.

For a few seconds, there was just the creaking the chandelier and (Y/n) didn’t know whether to be relieved or devastated by the silence. Before she could resign herself to her fate, a faint buzzing could be heard below, growing in intensity until (Y/n) could see the swarm of blowflies collecting below her until they completely formed the middle Dimitrescu daughter. She looked up at (Y/n) with a sneer on her blood stained lips.

“Well, well, well. I must say that this is a first for me.” Cassandra hummed, a fist over her hip as she craned her head up, twisting this way and that to really get a good look. Yes, a maid hanging from a chandelier must have been a novelty to the monstrous woman indeed.

“Just how did you get into this predicament little mouse? Perhaps you are more of a monkey, hmm?” Cassandra giggled sadistically before idly licking the blood from her lips, smearing it around more than anything.

“I leaned too far over the banister while I was dusting.” (Y/n) explained through clenched teeth, trying to maintain her aching grip.

“Mmm, how clumsy of you.” Cassandra laughed again, moving her arms to rest across her chest, she propped her chin up in her gloved hand as she regarded (Y/n) with glee. “You know, I was going to skin you alive. You had called me away from cellar time after all, new arrivals are always the most fun to break. Not to mention that you, some lowly maid, think that I, a noblewoman of the House, am at your beck and call. Yes, I was going to kill you myself but now I’m curious,” Cassandra’s smirk widened to a full blown maniacal grin, “what will give out first? Your arms, or the chandelier?”

“Lady Cassandra, please!” (Y/n) wasn’t sure where she thought pleading would get her, but people will do all kinds of things they wouldn’t normally do under duress. Including begging a known sadistic killer to save them from certain death.

“Oh, she remembers her manners!” Cassandra mocked, “Do me a favor and just fall already. I fear I might be developing a crick in my neck.”

(Y/n) could feel the heat of incoming tears sting her eyes as she dangled several feet above her one woman audience. Well, no one could say she didn’t try. She started mumbling a little prayer for herself that turned into a yelp as the chandelier fell another half a foot, a much larger drop than the occasional two to three inches. The sudden gravity shift yanked (Y/n)’s hands clean off the chandelier, slicing her skin terribly as she tried to grab back on. She missed, she was falling.

(Y/n) couldn’t even scream, she just closed her eyes as tightly as she could and waited to meet the ground... speaking of which, shouldn’t she have hit it already?

(Y/n) peeled open an eye and slowly allowed herself to finally take in the buzzing that was surrounding her. Blowflies. She peered down past the swarm to see Cassandra, half formed with her arms outstretched, ready to receive her. (Y/n) could only stare, mouth slightly agape, as she was settled in Cassandra’s arms, watching the blowflies that had carried her mesh back into Cassandra’s legs.

“Why so surprised?” Cassandra asked with a mock sweetness that made (Y/n) shiver, “I simply couldn’t let you die just yet. No, I think I’d like to play with you just a little while longer.”

Cassandra happened to glance at the bloody hands clutched tightly to the maid’s chest and hummed. Adjusting her strong hold on the paralyzed maiden, she clutched the outermost wrist tightly and pulled it to her bloodied lips for a sample.

“Mm,” Cassandra appraised, passing her tongue over the cuts again, “yes, I think I’ll enjoy taking my time with you.” She cackled before unceremoniously dropping (Y/n) to the floor at a much safer, but still painful height.

“Go patch yourself up, my prey. You’re dismissed.” She said and then, she dispersed into a swarm of blowflies and was gone, her laughter bouncing off of the high ceilings.

(Y/n) sat on the floor dumbstruck, before finally getting up on shaky legs. She made her way to the maid’s quarters and upon seeing that it was empty, she allowed herself to cry as she cleaned and dressed her fingers. Lady Cassandra had saved her, saved her for a worse fate by her own hand no doubt. All she could do was wait.

***

Cassandra was a menace.

After the chandelier incident, (Y/n) found herself assigned to areas of the castle that Cassandra was known to frequent. There was never a minute’s rest when the middle child was free from her mother and sisters and even if Cassandra was occupied, (Y/n) often found herself nipped by the occasional stray blowfly as she did her work. There was no question in her mind where they had come from.

Yes, having caught Lady Cassandra’s eye had created a lot of extra work for the poor girl with extra antagonism. She’d poke and prod and pull, jostling (Y/n) around while she tried to stay on task. She would drag bloodied bodies through the carpeted halls (Y/n) had just cleaned and laugh as the poor maid went to restock her cleaning supplies. Cassandra would even demand (Y/n) drop everything to run her baths when she had grow tired of running around with blood smeared all over her like a toddler left alone with finger paints. She’d smugly present her bloodied face to (Y/n), silently demanding she wipe it clean for her and when she was satisfied, she would lean back in her tub and order (Y/n) to clean the bloodied weapons she’d drop dangerously close to her feet.

Cassandra was insufferable, yet, (Y/n) couldn’t help but think positively because it could have easily been much worse. For as taxing as dealing with Cassandra could be, she had never hurt her, not really anyway. Not like the poor maid who went to clean the armory and left with one less arm than she went in with. The occasional bite of a blowfly stung and the shoves and pinches could be bruising, but at least she still had all her limbs, no broken bones or sickle scars puckering her skin.

(Y/n) sighed to herself as she polished the same battle axe for the third time that week. She was the only maid allowed to clean the armory anymore after Bianca lost her arm. Lady Cassandra had said that only (Y/n) knew how to clean her toys with proper care and could make them twice as shiny and sharp. A few of the other maids would darkly joke with (Y/n) in the serving quarters about the middle Dimitrescu having a crush on her, but (Y/n) would simply dismiss their gossip and continue her work without complaint. Such rumors could be dangerous after all.

As (Y/n) heaved the axe back into its place on the wall, she heard the thrum of quick light feet running across the carpeted hall just outside. She frowned to herself, but kept working. Assuming it was just just another poor girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. However the door the the armory clicked open, and the slightly out of breath maid (Y/n) recognized as Moiara peaked in, flushed from all her running no doubt.

“Lady Dimitrescu is ordering all of the maids back to their quarters immediately.” The girl urgently informed.

“Whatever for?” (Y/n) asked, brows furrowed in concern. It was a most unusual order.

“Apparently a pack of Moroaica have escaped the cellar and are currently roaming the castle. The Lady’s daughters are hunting them down, but it could take some time to clear everything up. Lady Dimitrescu doesn’t wish to lose more workers than she can replace.” Moiara explained, albeit the last line came out a touch bitterly.

“I understand, I’ll make my way now. Be safe.”

“Thank you.” Moiara nodded before darting off again.

(Y/n) cautiously made her way to the door and peered down both ends of the hallway. Noting that it was clear, she left the doorway and shut the armory door before quickly walking in the direction of the maid’s quarters. It was quite a walk and (Y/n)’s heart went out to Moiara and the rest of the girls who were still scattered further within the castle’s walls.

The halls were eerily quiet and empty, not unusual, but with the added threat lurking, well, it made it a tad more unsettling. It was laughable really, for (Y/n) to be afraid now. The threat of death loomed over her head constantly and only now she was concerned?

(Y/n) chuckled despite herself as she rounded another bend, hardly checking her surroundings as she crossed the third hallway and then the fourth.

“Oh!” (Y/n) tripped on a raised wrinkle in the rug, her hand automatically grasped the curtain beside her to steady herself. She was lucky it didn’t rip or surely the Lady of the House would have her head, never mind the Moroaica.

As she made to steady herself on her own two feet again, the curtain she had grasped twisted harshly and was ripped from her surprised and slackened grip. (Y/n) felt her blood run cold and her feet turn to lead as the ‘curtain’ reached out for her, revealing rotten, gnarled fingers that snapped (Y/n)’s bicep in a firm squeeze. As it completed its turn, (Y/n) saw scraggly, yellowed teeth lunge for her neck.

She attempted to keep the stray Moroaica at bay. The whole interaction, frightening and life threatening as it was, was a near silent struggle. It was as if (Y/n) had lost her voice completely. All that came from her were stuttering gasps as the creature snarled and snapped at her.

It wrestled her to the floor and clawed at her clothes and skin, drawing the blood that it seemed to desperately crave. (Y/n) struggled and kicked at the creature but it was unrelenting and finally something happened that helped (Y/n) find her voice, she screamed.

The Moroaica clawed at her ribs, tearing fabric, skin and muscle alike. (Y/n)’s fighting grew weaker the more the monster dug at her and her mouth was still parted from her pained screams but they were now near silent croaks as the pain and blood loss threatened her consciousness. Seemingly noticing her weakened state, the Moroaica neared its yellowing teeth to her exposed flesh and—

“Oo, look Bela! I found another one~!”

(Y/n) reflexively closed her eyes and felt something hot and wet splatter across her face. She heard a squelching noise and felt dead weight fall against her body as Daniela’s giggles filled the hall.

“You shouldn’t be having so much fun.” Bela grumbled at her sister. “I knew mother should have sent you to your room. It would have been a more fitting punishment.”

“Okay, so maybe I forgot to lock the cellar, but you can’t say you aren’t having a good time as well.” Daniela said, grinning when Bela rolled her eyes, a small shadow of a smile forming on the eldest sister’s lips.

“Aw, look,” Daniela grunted, kicking at the dead Moroaica until its corpse rolled off of (Y/n), “well, let’s not let her go to waste. Her blood still smells good.”

“Wait, Daniela,” Bela said, holding her younger sister’s shoulder as she peered down at the bloodied maid her breaths coming raggedly as she fought to open her eyes. Bela sniffed and winced, shooting her sister a look.

“Daniela, take a closer look.”

“Ugh, fine,” the youngest groaned and leaned forward, “I don’t see why...” Daniela paused, her back went rigid. She just stared at (Y/n) for a few moments before finally turning to her sister, lips pursed.

“Cass is literally going to kill me.”

“You think?” Bela said, almost with complete disinterest.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Help me! If she dies, I die!” Daniela hissed, couching beside (Y/n) to assess the damage.

“I don’t know, I think I would kind of like to see Cassandra hunt you for sport.” Bela smirked.

“Bela!”

“Alright, alright.” Bela sighed, couching at (Y/n)’s other side.

The last thing the maid could make out before succumbing to unconsciousness was a dull, muffled buzzing and a feeling of weightlessness.

***

When (Y/n) awoke, she immediately noted that her throat was drier than a desert wind; her stomach and ribs also burned and itched like nothing she had ever experienced. She gingerly touched her stomach and found it covered in bandages. Her head ached so she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes for a few moments.

With great effort she hoisted herself into a sitting position and had to do a double take of her surroundings. This was not the maid’s quarters and given the amount of time she had been spending in here lately, she was quick to realize she was in Lady Cassandra’s room, in her bed. Before (Y/n) could really let it all sink in, the door was yanked open.

Cassandra stalked in, shutting the door tightly behind her before standing over (Y/n) with a fire blazing in her golden eyes. A blowfly (Y/n) had initially failed to notice crawled down the bedpost before meshing back into Cassandra’s body. Apparently she had been being watched.

“Why didn’t you call for me?” Cassandra gritted out, gripping the bedpost so hard (Y/n) was afraid it would splinter.

“Lady Cassandra?” (Y/n) questioned, still feeling numb and achy and not at all ready for such aggressive energy.

“Glad to know you still remember.”Cassandra said mockingly before her voice became low and serious again, “You were in trouble, why didn’t you call for me?”

“I don’t...” (Y/n) winced and held her head, it felt like she was on a boat in rocky waters.

Cassandra took notice and with surprising gentleness, lowered (Y/n) to rest fully against the bed once more. She even offered (Y/n) water and helped her drink. Then she checked her temperature, the cool touch of her skin felt wonderful against (Y/n)’s aching head.

“What happened?” (Y/n) murmured, whining when Cassandra went to remove her hand. A bit hesitantly, she put it back. A small, prideful smile curved at her lips when (Y/n) relaxed against her touch.

“Don’t you remember?” Cassandra scoffed, “I swear, you humans are so unbelievably fragile. You were attacked by a Moroaica that strayed from its pack. Bela and the idiot who caused the whole mess found you. I did some sucking up to mother and we fixed you up with a little herbal remedy,” Cassandra frowned her voice becoming a tad accusatory, “Yet you still slept for a long time.”

“I’m sorry to have been an inconvenience Lady Cassandra.” (Y/n) spoke up after trying to absorb all that Cassandra had told her. Surely it would have taken more than a, ‘little herbal remedy’ to fix what had happened to her.

(Y/n) scrunched her eyes shut when Cassandra suddenly growled and pinched the maid’s nose.

“I’m glad you realize it. Do you know how infuriating it is to watch another maid handle my weaponry all wrong? To not make my room the way that I like it? Ugh, I’d have killed them all if mother let me.” She let go of (Y/n)’s nose, swiping the side of her index finger playfully over the bridge a couple times before re-settling her hand over (Y/n)’s cheek.

“That’s why, when you’re all better, you are going to have to train one of those imbeciles how to do it right.”

“I can do it myself, Lady Cassandra. I can get back to work tomorrow I’m sure of it.” (Y/n) nearly pleaded. She was sure any girl she trained would end up killed anyway. There were too many little things that could set Cassandra off to count.

“There is no more cleaning for you. You’re retired.”

“Retired?” (Y/n) couldn’t help but gawk up at Cassandra. The notion was wholly unbelievable. No one retired from serving the Dimitrescus’ unless you counted dying as a form of retirement.

“Yes.” Cassandra said with near vicious finality.

“Lady Cassandra, my parents count on the lei I send them from my job here, please reconsider. There is no work for me back at the village and I’d just be another mouth my family cannot afford to feed.” (Y/n) beseeched, her body quaked with fever.

“Calm yourself.” Cassandra spoke as if attempting to be soft, but was still very on edge. “Your family will still receive money. You aren’t going back to the village.”

“I’m not?” (Y/n)’s brows drew together with further confusion, “but, then what will be my purpose if I’m not to work?”

“Does it really matter?” Cassandra flustered, a buzzing sound filled the space between them, “Your family is getting money and you don’t have to do anything for it, be grateful!” Cassandra pinched (Y/n)’s cheek a bit harshly before standing and stalking away. The buzzing following her as she tore the door open once more.

“I’ll be back with lunch.” The Dimitrescu grumbled before closing the door behind her once more.

“What is going on?” (Y/n) whispered to herself in disbelief before resting her head fully back against the pillow. She caught movement in the corner of her eye and turned her head just in time to watch a blowfly crawl back into the dark canopy of the bed.

***

(Y/n) wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Suddenly, she had all this free time on her hands and would for a long time apparently. It was nice when she was still recovering, but now that she had healed, she felt antsy.

Cassandra had handpicked a trembling maid for (Y/n) to train, but even those sessions did not last long as the poor girl, Anca was her name, was still expected to complete other chores. Something that did help to pass the time however was Cassandra herself, strangely enough. She was always the one to bring (Y/n) meals unless she was busy with some task her mother had given her, also giving (Y/n) little gifts and talking to her throughout each day. Sometimes the ‘gifts’ were gruesome and the talks seemed more like interrogations, but the effort in which Cassandra put into every interaction left (Y/n) intrigued with, and appreciative of the middle child.

Now wasn’t one of those times unfortunately, and (Y/n) found herself pacing the floor of her room, yes, one of her very own. Given to her by Cassandra right across the hall from her own. Now that she was well enough to do more on her own, she had been moved there about three weeks ago to have her own space. Another thing that was unheard of coming from the middle Dimitrescu. (Y/n) paused by the window to look out upon the snowy ground below.

“Miss (Y/n)?” A knock on the door, “May I speak with you?”

“Anca,” (Y/n) paused her paces, that was strange. There had been no plans for a lesson tonight. Nevertheless, (Y/n) was happy for the company. Ever since Cassandra had removed her from service, the other maids had avoided (Y/n) like a plague “please come in.”

The nervous little maid came in, closing the door tightly behind her, shoulders stiff as she slowly approached and took a seat in the chair (Y/n) offered to her.

“Are you alright? You’re shaking.” (Y/n) frowned, reaching out to comfort her only to watch Anca shrink away from her hand.

“Lady Cassandra,” she spoke, looking wildly around the room, “she will kill me I’m sure of it. What game are you playing?”

“Game? I’m playing no game.” (Y/n) tried to assure. “Has she said anything to you? I promise I’m covering every base I can—”

“You aren’t doing enough!” She screeched, startling the other. “I’ve seen the way she treats you. The privileges you’ve gained. This is all a set up! You were in my shoes not long ago, have you really lost your humanity so quickly?”

“Anca, please, calm yourself. I’m not working against you, I swear.” (Y/n) tried to explain. “Tell me what’s wrong, let me help you. How can I help you?”

“How?” Anca mumbled, rubbing at her dark rimmed eyes. “It’s all because of you that I’m in this mess to begin with!”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Anca.”

“No, I really don’t think you are.” Anca sniffed, rising from her chair. “But maybe there is something you can do to help me. I’m already dead, but I want to hurt Lady Cassandra before I go and I think I can do just that,” she pulled a knife from her apron, “if I take you down with me!”

“Anca!” (Y/n) screamed, stumbling away just before the knife could strike her.

“Just hold still! I’ll do it fast, please!” Anca cried as she swiped at her again. “Let me just have this one thing! This one last fuck you to this hell hole!”

“Stop! You’re making a mistake!” (Y/n) tried again, wrestling with Anca for the knife.

The scuffle went on for minutes before (Y/n) was thrown to the back wall, the knife missed her head just barely and sunk into the wood behind her. As Anca struggled to hold her in place and wedge the knife free, (Y/n) called out for her without even realizing it until the blood drained from Anca’s face.

“Cassandra!”

“No, shut up! Shut up you bitch!” Anca squealed, rocking the knife more vigorously.

“Cass—“ (Y/n) tried to call out again, this time fully aware of what she was doing, only to be head-butted by Anca in a desperate attempt to quiet her while she continued to work at the knife.

It was too late for that however, as proven by angry buzzing sounds roaring through the hallway and sliding under the door before forming right at Anca’s back, a cold hand joined Anca’s over the knife and grasped her so hard, (Y/n) could hear the maid’s fingers crack.

“You want this knife, do you?” Cassandra sneered, “Please, allow me.”

Cassandra tugged the knife from the wall like it had been warm butter, Anca’s hand still clenched in her own. She used her other arm to pull Anca off of (Y/n) with a rough tug and hardly took more than a few steps away before plunging the knife deep into the girl’s chest.

“There you go. You’re welcome you miserable little wretch.” Cassandra raked the knife downward, slicing Anca’s flesh all the way down to the hip as the poor girl screamed. “That will teach you to touch what doesn’t belong to you!”

(Y/n) could only watch, wide-eyed and trembling as Cassandra dissolved into her swarm, allowing Anca to fall to the floor before hundreds of little mouths began working at her flesh until the screaming ceased and all that was discernible was a frozen expression of agony on Anca’s face.

The blowflies came back together after a few more moments of feeding and Cassandra reformed, crouched beside (Y/n). (Y/n) didn’t even realize she had sunk to the floor during the gruesome attack.

Cassandra raised a blood covered hand to (Y/n)’s cheek, turning the face in her grasp, she assessed the damage, buzzing all the while. Somehow the sound felt, calming, reassuring. (Y/n) didn’t even flinch away from her touches and instead found herself leaning into them.

“Just look at what that thing did to you,” Cassandra hissed as she watched the blood leak from (Y/n)’s nose, “I should have killed her even slower.”

(Y/n) sniffled, leaning her head on Cassandra’s shoulder, “Thank you for coming.”

“I’ll always come to you if you call for me,” Cassandra sighed and pulled (Y/n) into her lap. She smelled almost overwhelmingly of blood, but (Y/n) couldn’t bring herself to care. “No one has ever called for me like you have before. No one that wasn’t my mother or sisters anyway,” Cassandra bit her lip, “I... at first, I was enraged that you called for me that first time, but the more I thought about it... Ugh! You made me feel all gross and buzzy inside. I’m just so used to humans fearing me, associating me with death. Never have I been called by one expecting to be saved from it.”

“Is that why you helped me after that Moroaica had attacked me?” (Y/n) asked, her voice still muffled by Cassandra’s shoulder. She didn’t really want to catch sight of Anca’s remains again while in the arms of her killer.

“Yes. I’m still mad at you for that.” Cassandra growled, “Why didn’t you call for me that time? I thought we had an understanding.”

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) chuckled despite everything, “But I think understandings are usually met through open communication. I’m sorry I didn’t interpret your bug bites and general antagonisms as anything but blatant harassment.”

“Excuse me?” Cassandra snarled, reminding (Y/n) just how frightening she could be.

“I, I’m sorry Lady Cassandra. I forget myself.” (Y/n) stammered before gasping as Cassandra effortlessly rose to her feet with (Y/n) still in her arms.

“You must be awfully tired to be so mouthy. I can’t imagine you’ll want to sleep with a corpse on your rug so you’ll just have to sleep in my room until the maids clean this mess up. I suppose I’ll need to fix your nose too. So fragile, my prey is.” Cassandra sighed, clearly feeling inconvenienced by the whole situation. Though she carefully maneuvered out of the doorway so (Y/n) wouldn’t bump against it as they made the short trip across the hall to her room.

“You treat me quite well for being prey.” (Y/n) tested with caution. “You protect me, but why? Is it all so you can end me yourself at your own leisure?”

“Oh wow Cass, you really know how to make a maiden feel special.”

“I knew she was full of it, Bela! I bet they haven’t so much as kissed yet!”

(Y/n) felt Cassandra’s grip on her tighten as the mocking voices of her sisters closed in on them before Cassandra could slink into her room.

“Shut the hell up and mind your own business!” Cassandra fumed, crossing the threshold into her room before kicking the door shut, making a thunderous slam reverberate off of the castle walls.

Bela and Daniela merely giggled, seeping through the cracks of the doors before reforming over their sister’s bed, nearly falling on top of each other as Cassandra sped past them to take (Y/n) into her en-suite bathroom.

She placed (Y/n) on top on the counter and tweaked her nose without warning, making (Y/n) yelp in pain.

“Quiet prey, I needed to set your nose back into place is all,” Cassandra wrinkled her nose as more blood oozed from the abused cartilage, “damn, why must you smell so enticing.”

(Y/n) couldn’t find any words, both because her nose stung like hell and she was still stuck on what Daniela and Bela were taunting Cassandra about, so she just managed a small shrug.

Cassandra hardly seemed to mind her lack of verbal response. She was too busy grinding her teeth as her sisters continued to whisper and laugh in the bedroom. Cassandra quickly wiped and stuffed (Y/n)’s nose, nearly hissing at her to remain still before going back to deal with her unruly siblings, licking the stray blood from her fingers as she went.

(Y/n) tried to give her some privacy, she really did, but it was hard not to listen in when they were speaking so loudly, and about herself no less.

“You two get out of my room, now!” Cassandra commanded.

“Why? It’s not like anything unseemly is going to be happening in here. Right, Daniela?” Bela giggled while Daniela downright cackled with glee.

“Get. Out. Now!” Cassandra bellowed.

“Oh no Cassie,” Daniela waggled a finger, snatching it back before Cassandra could bite it, “you spend weeks pretending to have gone all the way with dear (Y/n) over there like some casanova and now we find out she doesn’t even know you like her?”

“What’s the matter Cassandra? It isn’t like you to be so chaste.” Bela said with a smirk.

“She must really like this one to be taking her time like this.” Daniela hypothesized with a bloodstained grin.

“Leave you idiots!” Cassandra nearly screamed, “She can probably hear everything you’re spewing! I’ll throw you out in the cold, don’t think I won’t!”

“Geez Cass, no need to be so hostile,” Bela shivered at the thought.

“Yeah, you take your well deserved teasings or we’ll tell mother you are not playing fair.” Daniela added with a pout.

Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose shutting her eyes tightly before releasing her nose with a growl and snapping her gaze back to her sisters.

“What do you want?” She grumbled.

“Oo! I want the best bits of your next hunt!” Daniela immediately proclaimed.

“I want to watch you flounder about whilst you try to explain your affections to the maiden.” Bela had said after a moment of consideration.

“Oh! That sounds fun. I retract my previous statement. I want what Bela’s having.” Daniela wiggled.

“I hate you both.” Cassandra huffed before stalking back to the bathroom, her giggling sister’s on her heels. (Y/n) quickly shot her gaze down at her swinging feet, suddenly more interested in the patterns of the floor below.

It didn’t take long for Cassandra to grab (Y/n)’s jaw and pull her face upward to meet her golden eyes.

“Listen prey,” Cassandra swallowed and blinked, her eyes darting all around (Y/n)’s face, “I...”

“Come on, Cassandra. It’s not that difficult.” Bela cooed, egging her sister on.

“I could tell her for you. That would be fun.” Daniela suggested, shrinking back just a bit at the look Cassandra shot her over her shoulder.

“Prey, (Y/n), I... Why is this so hard!” She stomped her foot and her nails bit into (Y/n)’s skin a bit too harshly, “I like you a lot and that’s why I’ve been helping you. I want you to like me too. Do you? Be honest.” She asked with a bit of hostility.

Did (Y/n) like Cassandra? Either way, it seemed like a death sentence to say no. Cassandra seemed to notice (Y/n)’s trepidation and quickly added,

“You don’t have to be scared. I won’t hurt you, just tell me the truth. If the answer is not to my liking then I guess I’ll simply have to try harder.” She said as if the words physically hurt her to say.

(Y/n) thought back on all of her interactions with Cassandra in a new light. Actually being caught as she fell, the schoolyard boy with a crush behavior (which honestly didn’t give the her any points but did make sense for how the murderous woman might try to show affection), most promising was how she brought (Y/n) back to health and continued to send money to her struggling family despite not working. Then of course she had saved her from Anca’s knife, wasting no time in cutting her down and checking (Y/n) over with care.

(Y/n) gave Cassandra a small smile that steadily grew a bit wider as golden eyes traced the movement and a hopeful sounding buzz began warbling in the back of her throat. Even the sisters standing behind her buzzed in unison, seemingly feeling their sister’s hope and growing excitement.

“Lady Cassandra, I like you too—Eep!”

Cassandra’s face dove into (Y/n)’s neck as her strong arms wrapped around (Y/n) to hold her still as she nuzzled and buzzed to her heart’s content. Bela and Daniela dissolved into their swarms and were haphazardly flying around them in celebration.

Cassandra gave (Y/n)’s neck a playful nip, much softer than a blowfly, before standing back to her full height and throwing (Y/n) over her shoulder.

“Lady Cassandra?” (Y/n) tried, wiggling a bit in the sudden new hold.

“Shhh, I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks.” Cassandra said, craning her neck to look up at her sisters still buzzing above them, “Buzz off.” She told them. The clouds of flies let out a bout of disembodied laughter before slipping back under the door, feeling that they had given their sister enough grief for one night.

Once Cassandra was sure they were gone, she tossed (Y/n) on to the bed and climbed in as well, hovering over the stuttering maiden.

“Wuh- wait, Cassandra, I know we established we like each other but—“ the former maid flustered as Cassandra rested her full weight over (Y/n)’s body and moaned pleasantly in her ear.

“Mm, you’re so warm. I could just lay here forever.” She sighed, snaking her hands underneath (Y/n)’s back.

“Thank... you?” (Y/n) awkwardly replied. For as tall and strong as Cassandra was, she was surprisingly light. (Y/n) figured the fact that she was made up of flies had something to do with that.

Cassandra hummed some more, nuzzling her nose in the crook of (Y/n)’s neck and breathing so deeply that (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle. There was a bit of concern bleeding in the back of her mind, but the smiling lips on her collarbone were quick to distract her.

“I quite like it when you make that sound, it’s sweet. But right now I’m quite tired, and I would like for you to be quiet now. I’m listening to your blood move.”

Well, that was a slightly terrifying admission. (Y/n) must’ve been going mad because she reacted no differently than if she had said she was listening to her heartbeat.

“Goodnight then.” (Y/n) murmured, slowly patting Cassandra’s hair, earning a low continuous buzzing that persisted until they had fallen asleep together.

#re8 oneshots #resident evil oneshots #resident evil village oneshots #cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader

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lokiskitten · 4 years ago

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Loki Laufeyson | wrong room

Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

plot : after landing on Midgard, you, Thor and Loki are forced to book rooms at the closest hotel in order to spend the night. However, you accidentally end up joining a room which isn’t yours and gain someone else’s bed.

warnings : mention of drinking, basic smut and unprotected sex.

In order to go after and find Odin, the three of you had been forced to travel to earth and lead unsuccessful investigations. Having to listen to Thor and Loki argue every ten minutes had easily gotten under your skin and irritated your nerves, which led you to beg the two of them to find a place to stay for the night. All you could think about was to find a bed in order to spend a good night of rest, and that no matter if you had to sleep onto a foreign planet. Besides, Thor and Loki’s presence managed to reassure your anxiety and fears.

And this is how the three of you ended up in a nearby hotel, the cheapest you managed to find as you wished to get over the payment step as soon as you could. Loki was getting frustrated, visibly annoyed to be forced through such a humiliating thing that was having to sleep somewhere else than in his personal silk sheets. On another hand, Thor seemed to enjoy this adventurous trip, which was far from being any surprising. You’ve know him since forever, and you knew that traveling to new places was something he liked to do- especially when it came to mixing up with “friendly” misgardians.

“Thank you.” Thor’s deep voice spoke as he took ahold of the three separated keys, Loki fainting a sarcastic smile as the three of you now turned around in order to reach the elevator. “This is ridiculous. Why can’t we just go back to Asgard? It isn’t too late.” The black haired man affirmed whilst taking decisive steps. “Because a little someone lost our own father and I refuse to go back to Asgard before I know that he is safe. Now that we left, I refuse to come back home empty handed and disappoint our people.” Thor responded. You decided to stay out of this little family argument as you believed that it was none of your business in the first place, even though the two men had insisted for you to accompany them.

Loki chuckled darkly, as if he took his brother’s many blames as compliments. The demigod shook his head as the three of you stepped inside of the elevator, Thor’s fingertip pressing against the proper button which caused the doors to close. “I did not loose him.” Loki defended his acts, earning an unamused groan from his older brother. You smirked as your head tilted towards the floor. Once the doors of the elevator finally opened again, you were all able to walk out and make your way down the corridor in order to reach the rooms.

Though, being in desperate need of a distraction and some alone time away from the two arguing brothers, you suddenly stopped in your track. “I think I’m going to make a stop at the bar. I won’t be long.” You affirmed awkwardly, earning a simple nod from the blonde god which allowed you to turn back around and disappear from their sight within a short minute. Thor didn’t worry about your safety, being aware that you were fully able to defend yourself with the help of all of the amazing skills you had developed through your many asgardian educations.

[ ... ]

About two hours later, you found yourself stumbling through the empty corridor which was meant to lead you to your room. However, the beverage which flowed through your veins caused your brain to behave slightly dizzy. Your eyesight was blurry, yet a couple of blinks were enough to make it all clear again but only for a few seconds. Upon arriving in front of the bedroom door you expected to be yours, your hand took ahold of the handle which you twisted before pushing open the door and creating an opening for you to walk in.

There was no form of light but the one which came from outside of the building- yet which remained muffled by the half transparent closed curtains. The entire room was plunged into darkness, and you therefore weren’t able to distinguish Loki’s sleeping silhouette underneath the bedsheets. The first thing you felt like doing was to remove your clothes from your body, the alcohol in your organism causing you to sweat in an uncomfortable manner. Besides, you weren’t used to the fabric of those misgardian shirts and jeans- which only led you to want to remove them even more.

Throwing your shirt towards the bed, the piece of clothing landed onto Loki’s face which immediately caused him to frown out of confusion. He reacted slowly, hand reaching up for his head from underneath the bedsheets before he dragged the shirt off his face. Meanwhile you continued to undress, taking off every single piece of clothing which once hid your body as Loki attempted to sit up straighter in order to speak up about the situation. Unfortunately, his parting lips were forced to go silent as your panties landed against his face, his eyelids shutting close out of pure instinct.

A tired sigh escaped his lips as he dragged your underwear off his tired features. Though his now fully awake eyes admired your body, his head tilting as he started to wonder when you would finally notice his presence. Meanwhile, you were finally able to slip underneath the covers as a gentle hum escaped your lips. The sensation of the covers over your silhouette and the mattress underneath your body felt absolutely orgasmic; your tired brain looking forward for a good night of rest.

However, the unexpected sensation of someone else’s warmth against your arm caused your eyebrows to frown out of confusion. Looking up from the pillow as your eyelids moved open, a yelp escaped your lips as your orbs landed onto the sight of Loki mischievously grinning at you. Nearly falling off the bed, you managed to catch the bedsheets right in time whilst your other arm reached out for the bedside lamp. You turned on the light, distressed eyes scanning Loki’s now chuckling features.

“What are you doing in my room?!” You asked him in a defensive manner, using the bedsheets in order to hide your naked body. The demigod frowned. “This is my room.” He responded on an offended tone, the two of you entering a processus of pure confusion regarding this satiric situation. Your eyes diverted towards the corner of the room, spotting his infamous black suit which rested onto a chair and which was previously worn by the demigod himself. Awkwardly, you began to realize that the god of mischief might have been right : this was indeed his room which you had mistaken for yours.

“Oh..” you spoke, admitting that you were in the wrong which caused a smile to appear on Loki’s face. The presence of light in the room now allowed you to notice that he was naked himself, a blush spreading over your face which the black haired man didn’t fail to notice. You were suddenly pulled out of your daydream by the loud sound of someone banging against the nearby wall, Thor’s deep voice soon echoing through the thick material of the building. “Hey! Cut it off.” He ordered, seemingly not appreciating to be awoken at night by the two accomplices.

Loki simply rolled his eyes, remaining unbothered face to his brother’s futile threats. Instead, his mind decided to focus onto something way more interesting which was the opportunity of engaging something lustful with you. Biting down onto his bottom lip, he watched as you dragged the sheets a little further up onto your naked chest. To be frankly honest, your fake modesty only enhanced his secretive desires. “Oh come on.” He purred seductively, hand slowly moving up to yours before he started to lower the covers in order to expose your upper body to his sight.

Even if he had the worst reputation, you tended to trust Loki with your life as you’ve known him since forever. Therefore, you accepted to lower the sheets and expose your bare chest to him. His blue eyes watched with admiration, his fingers cautiously dipping into your soft mound and causing the squishy flesh to wiggle. Your breath itched due to this unexpected physical contact, yet you managed to appreciate every single second of it.

Being aware that he had your consent, Loki then wrapped his strong arms around you naked body and forcefully pulled your silhouette close to his- your respective legs interlocking as your own arms wrapped around his muscular back. You absolutely melted into this new source of warmth, appreciating how soothing his smooth skin felt against yours. You were now able to feel his hardening genitals brush against your entrance, tip colliding with your moist lips which instinctively parted for his hardness. Loki allowed a guttural groan to escape his lips, face tilted downwards towards yours as he observed the way your facial features grimaced out of pleasure.

Your forehead was soon to rest against the crook of his warm neck, his hips grinding against yours in order to engage intercourse in the smoothest way possible. His lips started to spray kisses against your neck, causing your genitals to throb out of envy as the two of you tried your best to remain as silent as possible even tho the natural lust which filled your respective organisms held you back from being completely discreet. Your knee now moved up to his hip, allowing your core to spread open for Loki to receive easier access to your entrance.

“Allow me, if you please, to take possession of your body.” He begged, large hands roaming your back in a loving manner. You shivered as you understood his request, body turning around so that your bum was now facing his crotch. Lifting your left knee to your chest, Loki’s hands took ahold of your hips as his member aligned with your drippy entrance. You moaned silently, bum lifting against his pelvis in an attempt to sit down onto his cock on your own. Thankfully, the demigod took the initiative to push things himself by sliding his hardness inside of your throbbing cunt.

Feeling his bare member penetrate you easily led you to moan, legs spreading in the air as your knees moved up to your chest. Loki began to move his hips back and forth, veins appearing onto his neck as he focused on properly moving in and out of you. This position required a lot of efforts from your partner, yet it felt absolutely nice to you- his tip brushing against every single one of your sensitive spots. Loki’s abdomen remained contracted, winces and hisses escaping his lips as his veiny hands remained locked against your hips.

“Ah- fuck..” you whimpered sensitively, eyelids shutting close due to the undeniable amount of pleasure which filled your body the more your sexual partner thrusted in and out of your tight and clenching hole. Those unwilling mannerisms caused Loki’s shaft to twitch, his tip repetitively hitting your cervix as warm precum dripped from his sensitive urethra- mixing up with your own natural lubricants. The man’s lips collided with your neck, biting and kissing your skin with the help of all the lust which lurked within his body.

Your hand moved back to grip onto his neck, cheek rubbing against Loki’s as his eyebrows raised in that one infamous way of his. Soft pants now exited his parted lips, thrusts getting sloppier as your friend now began to have a hard time keeping up the pace. The kisses he offered your skin weren’t so lustful anymore, but mainly filled of all the love he was never able to properly offer to anyone before. This boy lacked physical and mental attention, which you hadn’t failed to notice through the many years spent in his mischievous company.

And finally, his hips locked against yours as his balls twitched, shaft throbbing as warm and sticky cum was expelled from his urethra. Moaning sensitively, you accompanied his musical rythme by allowing your own whimpers to exit your lips. His hands moved away from your hips, strong arms now wrapping around your waist to make sure you wouldn’t unexpectedly decide to break the physical contact- something that absolutely never crossed your mind. In fact, all you could think about was how nice this moment felt. So why would you ever decide to put it to an end?

Unfortunately, every nice things had an end, the intercourses ending when Loki pulled out of your cunt and allowed his cum to drip out of your entrance. Falling onto his back, he panted tiredly whilst your own self laid down onto your back, hand reaching down for his and allowing your digits to interlock with his larger ones. Sensing this new physical contact, his head turned towards yours, sad eyes staring into your soul. For a moment, he was able to feel your pain as you felt his.

I hope you enjoyed. Don’t hesitate to leave a request! ❤️ have a good evening/day my loves. Requested tag : @delightfulheartdream

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #marvel #marvel imagine #Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston fanfic #Tom Hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston oneshot

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ronnieiswriting · 3 years ago

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Sweet Dreams- Boxer!Paz x Baker!Freader

Inspired by the events of Foul (following straight after) and the Boxer Din AU created and written by the wonderful, amazing, brilliantly talented @djarinsbeskar! WC: 1,641 Tags: 18+, mentions of smut, its a smutty AU ya'll know the drill, sickeningly sweet fluff I have been driven to write this to deal with all my Paz thots- it will become very clear that I make up for the fact that I can't write hot smut by writing the softest shit. Excuse the lack of editing, also, its quite the mess x

After Din had stormed off with his “not-girlfriend” at Avika, Paz was more than ready to go home right then and there, thoroughly unwanting to deal with the feral frenzy that Din had stirred up in and out the ring. But there was no doubt that there would be more calls for blood. And even if that weren’t the case- even if Din wasn’t on the lists tonight- Paz had to stay.

It was his job after all. And one he enjoyed more often than not.

But when he thought about you, Paz’s priorities became trivial- like dust in the wind.

He hadn’t been dating you for long but he already knew that he was in deep. To Paz, you were the one that hung the stars in the sky; you, a hardworking baker with a smile that made his heart ache and hips that made his cock twitch. It was love, the realest he’d ever found, and every day he swore his gratitude to whatever force had sent him to you.

It was almost a taunt to watch Din leave Avika with his “not-girlfriend” tucked into his side- he’d been disqualified from any more fights that night but he couldn’t look any less content about it- when Paz had to stay behind with nothing but the thoughts of you waiting for him back at his place to keep him company.

To pass a bit of time between the words that were being exchanged between Boba and Din’s opponent’s trainer, Paz checked his phone- his mood instantly brightened when he saw a notification from you.

From: Sugar Cookie💖

Hey babe, I just got home. Did you feed Kitty yet? He’s begging me for food rn but I know he’s probs got a full belly and is just being a little gobble guts lol. sent 4:13am

I gave him a tinyyy bit of kibble to hold him over in case you didn’t. Kitty knows I can’t resist him. Sorry for messaging you at work btw. I know you’re busy xx Love you xx sent 4:19am

Paz checked the current time. 5:30am. Shit. He must’ve missed the buzz of the notification amidst the chaos. Usually, your shifts at the bakery ended closer to midnight but he knew you to be a hard worker, proud of the bakery you ran by yourself, and always likely to get caught up in a task until it was done to a high standard. It was just another thing for Paz to love about you.

His thumbs hovered over the reply box; you had probably already gone to bed, exhausted from your own long day of work. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb you but he pushed past that doubt a second later, typing out a response, softened when he reread your messages about his kitten.

“Vizsla!” Boba’s voice pulled him back into reality. “Are you listening at all? This does concern you.”

Paz managed an easy half-lie, fingers tapping away as he switched contacts and began typing another message, “I’m sending Din a text- trying to figure out what started all this.”

…

When Paz finally did get home it was pushing 8am. Expecting to find you curled up in his bed, comfortably asleep, he was shocked to see you as soon as he opened the door to his apartment. You were propped up against a wall of cushions on his couch with a book resting in your lap and his kitten snoozing on your chest. Head thrown back and peacefully still, he could tell you were fast asleep.

Just the sight of you, the shape of your body outlined by the drape of the blanket that was thrown over you, your features illuminated by the warm light of the lamp, the splay of your hair over the pillows- just looking at you relieved him of so much of the stress he had carried home. His eyes traced over your form, picking out the dip and curve of your hips, and he was struck again with the amount of love he had for you. He still couldn’t believe how quickly he had developed such deep feelings for you but that fact made them no less sincere. The softness and simple intimacy (whether that be primarily sexual or emotional) that your company alone promised never ceased to amaze him.

Trying to be as quiet as he could manage, Paz shut the door behind him, put his backpack down by the door, and crossed the room to kneel down at your side. He considered leaving you there for the rest of the night- if he did he could go take a nap and then come back and wake you up by eating you out before making you breakfast- but ultimately he wanted to, needed to sleep next to you… and he couldn’t manage that on the couch.

He got the best sleep when you stayed the night, your chest made a far better pillow and your arms though relatively small provided him with so much warmth that he would be more than content to sleep without any covers (which happened sometimes when you hoarded the blankets).

Paz let out a silent sigh and reached out to stroke the hair away from your face. You stirred in response and he leaned in to press a kiss to your nose, “Hey, baby, it’s just me.”

You let out a soft moan, eyes scrunching up before blinking open, looking up at him blearily, “Paz~”

His heart could have burst at the sound of your gentle voice laden with sleep. Carefully so as not to disturb your place, Paz eased the book from your fingers. The exhaustion was palpable on your face, the weight of many hours of work pulling at the edges of your eyes. “I thought you’d be in bed by now.”

You eased yourself up on the cushions, one hand bracing the kitten against your chest. “I wanted to stay up for you. I didn’t mean to doze off.” Fuck. Paz was slipping his arms under you faster than you could process and when he stood you were tucked against his chest, kitten, blanket and all. You didn’t even seem bothered by the shift, curling your fingers into the neckline of his shirt. The simple touch drove him wild- the burn of your warm skin against his throat like a blowtorch- and the fact that you seemed oblivious to that only made him ache for you more.

When he had gotten you halfway to the bedroom you spoke again in that voice that threatened sleep, “I would've been able to stay up for you if I didn’t have to spend three hours on a last minute order for a wedding cake.”

Paz opened the door with his hip. “You don’t have to say yes to every job you know.”

“I know- but the couple was so sweet, I couldn’t say no. Plus they paid me double and half on top because of the short notice.”

He laid you out on the bed and replaced the throw blanket with his thick quilt, kitten moving to curl up beside your head on the pillow. The comfortable setting was luring you quickly to sleep again but you were still determined to see him next to you before you shut your eyes again fully. When he didn’t immediately join you, you frowned.

Paz eased the crease in your brow with a kiss there, “Don’t pout, sweetheart. I just gotta take a shower.” He could have skipped one for now, knowing you wouldn’t protest his sweaty skin, but he wanted to be rid of the flecks of blood that had stuck to him, everything that had stuck to him from that ring, before he touched you. You started to protest but Paz silenced you with a searing kiss to your lips, “I won’t be long, I promise.”

If he had thought you would be back asleep by the time he finished he was fooling himself. You scooched backwards on the mattress and petted the space you made in front, “come here.”

Paz went willingly, instantly. He eased back the covers and shuffled in next to you, clad only in a pair of boxers, hands instantly finding your skin to greedily palm the warmth that radiated from you. You cozied up to him just as naturally, arms wrapping around his neck so that he could tuck his face against the crook of your neck. With the covers pulled over the both of you, Paz felt surrounded by your presence and it calmed any remaining stress he had.

Although he had reprimanded Din for taking a violent approach to defending a woman’s honor, Paz couldn’t deny the fact that he’d be just as likely to take a similar action if anyone spoke about you like that- just thinking about those vile, entitled words directed at you made his jaw clench subconsciously. And yet just as soon as that anger stirred up in him, it dissipated again, soothed by the thump of your heart against his chest and the delicate fan of air you puffed over his damp skin.

He was reminded of the first time he told you he loved you; not long ago, in the middle of a good hard fuck when he had you by the hip, lost in the emotion of your eyes to the point where his confession had come out as a babble that became a mantra that he punctuated with each thrust of his hips. You had been on the verge of tears then, overstimulated and shaking, when you returned the words to him from your own lips: I love you too.

“I love you.” Paz whispered.

You snuggled against him tighter, a sleepy sigh escaping you when his hands ran up and down your sides. “I love you too.”

#the mandolorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #paz vizla au #paz vizla #paz vizsla #paz vizla x reader #paz vizla x you #paz viszla #paz x reader #paz vizsla x reader #the mandalorian modern au #boxer!paz #baker!reader #boxer au #ronnie's actual writing

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