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julymusings · 3 months ago

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Jason Todd x Single Mom!Reader

I've been plagued for many months now by the idea of jason todd x young single mom!reader. I literally made this blog this morning just to post this

this is so LONG try as i might to shorten it i've been itching to get all this out of me so enjoy this word vomit i might just make a full fic if i'm feeling extra frisky

You got pregnant in college, and now you’re fresh out of grad school moving to a new city with your 3 year old daughter

You got a job at Wayne Enterprises, leading an important new project. You and your colleagues are invited to the latest Wayne Gala, hosted at the billionaire’s own manor. All these years as a young mother and a student, you hadn’t any experience with such extravagance-- how could you say no?

the party lowkey sucks because it's all old rich people so you sneak out to a balcony where you find a young man drinking whiskey and texting on his phone.

he introduces himself as jason, and his hand is rough and calloused when you shake it, but it's warm and sends a tingle up your arm. (😏)

You chat about your work, he complains about the stuffiness of a life at Wayne Enterprises and you laugh when he warns you to get out while you can (he's joking, of course. not because he thinks it's worth staying but because if you leave he'd never be able to hear that adorable laugh again)

when you go off on a tangent about how excited you are for your project, he's not even listening anymore. the sheer passion that lights up your face has his mind going fuzzy and a full orchestra playing in the background

you're pulled back in before he can get your number :( he's so mopey all weekend he doesn't even have it in him to retaliate when damian makes fun of him for having pink pony club as his top song for this month :(

when you get home your email is flooded with warnings from other parents at your daughter's daycare about a lice scare?? okay, you think, she's definitely not going on monday, you can just bring her to work with you, right? what's the worst that could happen?

the following monday he just happens to show up at the office (He can't just stop by to say hi to his brother who he loves?) (tim calls security almost immediately)

you're not at your cubicle (in a meeting, your desk neighbor informs him) so he mills about the floor like a lost puppy just waiting for you to show up so he can "accidentally" run into you

the woman at the front desk has a chair pulled up next to hers where this little girl with pigtails is sitting, trying to console her as tears stream down her face

jason springs into action, kneeling in front of her chair to ask what's wrong

she just sniffles and holds up her stuffed animal, an elephant whose button eye has popped out, the woman watching her trying to get her to hand it over so she can sew it back on but she wont let go

he goes full grey's anatomy, fussing over the toy like it's in mortal peril and complimenting her for being so brave before gently asking if he can try to fix it

she lets him take it and he uses the woman's travel sewing kit to stitch it back on

she's ecstatic, leaping forward into his arms to give him a big hug

but now she won't let him leave because no he has to have a conversation with the elephant first and introduce himself and give it post-surgery care instructions and listen to it talk about how much she it wants a puppy and he feels like such an idiot talking to that thing but anything to make this little girl smile

she pulls a little picture book from the backpack hung on the back of her chair and asks him to read with her and he can't just say no!

so he plops down on the tile floor and starts reading out loud and even though she's standing next to him craning her neck to see the pictures he's a head taller than her

when you finish your meeting and head back to the front desk to thank gretchen for watching your kid the sight you see makes your heart absolutely melt

jason and your daughter are sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor of Wayne Enterprises as he reads to her, and he's pulling out all the stops, he's doing voices, sound effects, and she's giggling so hard she can't sit up straight

but then they both finally notice you

"mommy!" she yells, running to you and wrapping herself around your leg

you're surprised to see him, but definitely not disappointed, and if what you just walked in on indicated anything, it was that you wanted, nay, needed this man

so now you're flushed and hopeful, mind running with possibilities of why he's here; could it be? he couldn't stop thinking about you either? he came all the way to ask you out?

but jason is also surprised, astounded even, by the miniature carbon copy clinging to your leg saying something about scooby snacks

he's freaking out on the inside

through a tight-lipped greeting he excuses himself with what he hopes is a neutral demeanor (spoiler alert: it's not) and goes home to think

and you obviously know exactly what that was about, one doesn't go through pregnancy at 19 without becoming well-acquainted with the whole catalogue of surprised/judgy reactions

of course you're a mess because the early/mid 20s dating scene is hard enough as it is but with a toddler? forget it, might as well just give up now

you go home to call your best friend and get drunk over face time while she assures you that men aint shit and offers to put a curse on him (you consider it, but how are you supposed to get a lock of his hair?)

he's up all night hating himself for being such an asshole and trying to come up with a scenario in which this works, in which he can have you in his life and also a child and be the red hood because he can't stop thinking about you

so then he just says fuck it and the next morning he shows up at your office with flowers and a puppy stuffed animal and finally asks you out

#nightwing #batman #red hood #jason todd #dick grayson #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #batfamily #dc universe #dc comics #dcu #damian wayne #dc robin #robin #bruce wayne

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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

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You Might Think It's Foolish

prompt: meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time creates anxiety, so, you stick to his side. at dinner, his mother calls out your clinginess - and Aemond doesn't defend you. or when someone else calls you clingy and he doesn't defend you / agrees with them.

pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby collection masterlist: Poisoned Apple

word count: 3.1k+

warnings: short and to the point, angst, hurt and no comfort, drama, relationship angst, stand alone, cursing, toxic family, toxic relationship...? barely edited, author's tired of her drafts.

Fall. Autumn. A time of shedding the old and preparing for the new. Perhaps that was why this happened - the universe was trying to shed what was unwelcome in your life. Yet you wouldn't see it this way for several long months.

The trees grew over the winding backroads in a curved canopy; creating a golden tunnel for visitors to pass through on their way to remote destinations. You were no exception, cruising at a leisure speed while taking slow, deep breaths to attempt to soak in the beauty autumn in the Northern Hemisphere brought. It was impossible not to feel enraptured by the serenity of the country roads, music set so you could hear it but still have a conversation if you wanted.

Your passenger princess told you it was the next right.

"I can't believe we're late," you whispered, sighing in strained stress. "This is a horrible first impression, Aemond."

"We won't even be the latest," he smirked.

"Doesn't matter, it's still rude to show up when the party's already started."

"We were busy."

"You were getting a new tattoo," you deadpanned.

"Exactly as I said - busy. And you got your third ear piercing, so, I don't want t'hear it."

You swallowed, making the right turn. "That's the house?" You gawked.

"Mhm," he gazed out his window, "welcome to the Targaryen Manor, princess."

"I forget you're from old money," you muttered, finding a suitable parking space and pulling in. You gathered your belongings, including the flowers from the backseat you insisted on bringing for his mother, and vacate the car.

"You're gonna be fine," Aemond smirked, tossing his arm around your neck as you moved up the walkway. "Just be yourself, laugh at their jokes - you'll fit right in."

"I feel like I can't even afford to be here," you whispered, approaching the front door. He chuckled and took your hand, letting you squeeze it tight as he opened the door and lead you inward. "Jesus, Mary Mother, and Joseph," you gaped, eyes bugging wide as the interior.

The term "fancy" didn't even begin to cover it.

And Aemond just smirked at you, amused by your response; knowing your family grew up without money and the nicest thing you owned for years was a Wii that had been purchased from a family-friend for a third of the price. So to see you here, amongst luxury and money, was an absolute treasure to him.

However, that was short lived, because the next thing you noticed was the amount of people milling around. There was at least 13 different people in sight, and for some reason, you knew there was likely many, many more. Aemond lead you into the kitchen, and from there, you could barely keep up.

First, you met his mother, Alicent. She was a kind woman, but stoic and calculating; observant with a quick wit. She intimidated you, made you feel small, burned you under her stare; and since you were dating her favorite child, you knew she was scrutinizing you. You felt desperate for her approval, and when you offered her the large bouquet of flowers, she actually let her lips twitch in a small smile. She thanked your generosity and consideration, making you feel like you had some kind of breakthrough with her.

When Alicent went to put the flowers in water, Aemond assured he thought his mother "adored" you before introducing you to his father - the birthday boy. He was sweet; soft spoken and bright-eyed; all too happy to have a conversation with you. He asked how you and Aemond met, then what you were studying in university, if you liked it, what you wanted to do with your degree. He asked what food was your favorite, if you played sports, about your family, and if you had any hobbies. Viserys Targaryen had a kind soul, making you wonder how he and Alicent remained married.

Though they say opposites attract.

Aemond showed you around the house, stopping to introduce family members; then heading to the backyard where you were drug around to meet the hundred other family members. You were close to tears the whole time, knowing it was his father's birthday, but not knowing how bloody big his fucking family was - and that they'd all show up today. You felt blindsided, it felt like a deliberate withholding of information to convince you to come. You were under the impression it was a family dinner, but now, you understood, it was an actual celebration.

There was people everywhere you looked, everywhere you turned. Voices spoke over one another, children ran around playing tag or jumping on a trampoline; babies cried and screamed, the grill was loud with sizzling meats, and a radio played through intermittent static. Multiple dogs ran around, trailing mud everywhere, even going as far as to shake their coats out to shower bystanders. The smell of charcoal, smoke, and chlorine mingled with that tangy-good scent of BBQ; but it made your eyes sting.

It was a sensory overload.

It was a miracle you hadn't burst into tears yet, but you remained anchored to reality by maintaining a close proximity to Aemond.

You held his hand in a vice grip. You held his bicep with a curled-grip that left fingernail indentations in his skin through the fabric. You held his waist, belt loops, anything you could grab onto in a possessive grip. You constantly touched him to reassure yourself he was still with you; being your anchor to reality, tangible and real since your anxiety drowned you in a sea.

You didn't think it was an issue. Didn't think anyone would notice, so you obviously didn't think anyone would care if they DID notice. You liked touching Aemond, it kept you grounded; if someone had an issue with that, it was 100% just a personal problem. However, plenty of people did notice, and when you sat down for dinner, you were unprepared for the ambush.

Conversation was flowing; food passed around and utensils scraped plates. Drinks sweat into the table cloth, citronella candles twinkled, and laughter was in an abundance as each person found merriment in their family. You were feeling more relaxed, but the truth was, there was so many people here that you felt nauseous enough to only take a few small bites from your plate.

Aemond noticed and met your eyes, subtly opening his hand to you in an offer for comfort. You all but snatched his hand into yours, smiling in thanks as he only smirked broadly and continued eating. You tried to sample what you could, but it was impossible to stomach much of anything. You reached for your water, took a sip, and heard Alicent question your name.

When she had your attention, Alicent asked, "Have you had many boyfriends, dear?"

"Oh, no," you answered honestly, "no, I've gone on dates but Aemond's," you laid your free hand to his bicep, sliding down to take his hand with yours, "my first boyfriend."

She hummed and stabbed her fork into the salad set in front of her, muttering in a lower tone, "Then I guess I can overlook it all."

You cocked your head, setting your glass down, wondering, "Overlook what?"

"The clinginess," she shrugged, reaching for her wine glass. "You've been stuck to his side all day - never even parting to go to the restroom, it seems. So, because he's your first, I can overlook all this... For now."

Your head began to spin like in a bad cartoon. You felt your heart cement and drop to your stomach; throat swelling to suppress either sobs, vomit, or both. The entire table was quiet. "I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Targaryen," you offered in confusion. "I'm sorry if I've offended you, but it's not with malicious intent."

"No?" She mocked.

"No," your head shook vehemently. "I did not realize my actions could be interpreted negatively, and I assume you, it was not my intention to create tension."

"Oh, spare me. You haven't let go of Aemond once all night, and even now, as we all sit for family dinner, you hold his hand hostage; preventing you both from eating. Don't you think he'd like to spend time with his family without needing to make you feel included in every single thing he does or says today?"

You gulped, "I did not mean to offend you nor your family."

"It's not offensive," Helaena Targaryen, Aemond's only sister, tried to intervene. "If you feel uncomfortable in any situation, why not seek out that in which you already know helps comfort you?"

How had it come to this?

"I am not offended," Viserys croaked, "I find young love refreshing."

But this made Alicent rage, "It is offensive when you prevent Aemond from actually visiting with his family. It's his father's birthday for God's sake! We don't have an infinite number of them left! If you want to hang all over him when you're at university, fine, but when you're here? In public? Around family or elders? It's not acceptable behavior, especially when you prevent my son from participating as a member of this family."

Your mouth went dry as you remembered your parents did not raise you to ever tolerate disrespect. If someone offered insult, sure, walk away, but they also taught you to stand up for yourself in particular fights. This felt like one of those fights.

There were also vivid memories long since repressed that flashed you back to your own parents telling you, you were clingy. They didn't want you hanging off them, distracting anyone, being an overall nuisance; so they started fighting your fire with their own. They became verbally aggressive, constantly ridiculing and belittling you; attempting to keep you humble by insulting your character - saying nobody (be it man or woman) would want someone like you. Your baggage was too heavy and you knew it, your parents telling you it was why you felt the need to cling in the first place.

If you held on tight enough, the weight of your trauma would eventually anchor your person in place. It'd be too late to swim away once that anchor sunk.

You looked at Aemond, thinking he'd tell his mother to quiet down, but he never did. He just stared at the table, so, you tossed his hand into his lap - feeling disgusting by his physical touch right now.

It was evident he wasn't going to defend you, so, you defended yourself, "I know you might think it foolish, but the reason I was 'all over' your son was because I was caught off-guard by the number of family members who attended today. I was lead to believe this would be a small, intimate affair so I could properly meet his nuclear family, and when I realized that was not the case, yes, I held onto Aemond because I felt incredibly anxious. I cannot control what makes me uncomfortable, but I was expecting under ten people - not close to a hundred. So, truly, if me seeking solace with my boyfriend upsets you, I am sorry, but I will not apologize for feeling blindsided and misdirected - I will not apologize for feeling anxious and nervous amongst such a large family that I've never met before, and - "

Aemond snapped your name, silencing you instantly out of sheer shock; your eyes widening a fraction. He growled, "That's enough, do not speak to my mother like that."

"So, she's allowed to call me clingy, but I can't - "

"I told you to watch your mouth," he seethed, "and not speak to her like you just were. She made an observation - an accurate one - not out of spite, like you want to do in retaliation."

You scoffed, while glancing between mother and son, nodding slowly. You mutely used your cloth napkin to blot around your lips, swipe your tongue over your teeth as you pushed your chair back and slowly stood. "You know what? I don't need this shit. I refuse to sit here and let you speak to me as if you're holier than thou," you told Alicent, then looking to Aemond, "nor will some mama's boy gaslight me."

Helaena giggled behind her hand as you swiped your purse and phone, turned on your heel, and walked away. Aemond sighed and called your name, standing from his own chair, still trying to slow you down by calling out to you. "Aemond," Alicent snapped when he meant to move after you.

"You've done enough," he told her, jogging after your retreating form while calling your name.

"Nice one, Mum," Aegon scoffed. "That's one way to make sure he doesn't knock her up - just break them up."

"Aegon," Daeron groaned.

"What? Isn't that what she was afraid of? Aemond getting too serious with her?" Aegon snapped. "He's finally happy, and you what? Had to implode that?"

Aegon's words sunk into his mother's heart as Aemond rushed after you, nobody untouched by the things he said.

Outside, you rushed for your car while fumbling with your purse and keys. Aemond followed, still. He finally caught up when you made it to the car, his hand whipping you around to face him.

"I didn't fucking mean it," he rushed, holding you securely in his grasp. "Hear me? I didn't fucking mean it, I-I just wanted the arguing to stop, I know how Mum can get and I didn't want it to escalate. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my love, I didn't mean it at you - I just - I panicked - I don't know why. Perhaps we're both still very green to this whole relationship thing."

"Oh! Fuck you," you snapped, pushing him off you.

"Listen to me - "

"No, you're done talking," you raged with your manicured pointer finger jabbing the air between you in a dramatic fashion. "Your mother fully insulted me in front of everyone - your entire family, whom I wasn't even aware I was meeting, nor was I even ready to meet!"

"What?"

"I was willing to meet your parents and siblings. Not your entire extended family! You meet the nuclear family first and when ready to level-up, you bring your significant other around your aunties, uncles, cousins - whatever. You ambushed me," you snapped. "You totally caught me off guard - but instead of apologizing and acknowledging my discomfort, you just carried on on your high horse. You let me hold onto you - yet there was no word about being clingy - and you even reached for my hand a few times! Yet I was the one being slandered and labeled as 'clingy'!? But you know what? That's cool, really fucking cool, that's fine. Like I said before, fuck off. I don't need to be with someone who crumples like a wet piece of paper when Mummy Dearest starts to huff and puff. I need someone who's going to tell their mother to cut it out when they're trying to wrongfully insult me - your girlfriend. Better yet? I need to be with someone whose mother doesn't start on that bullshit! That has respect! Decency! Now get the fuck away from me!"

You shoved him back a few steps to give room for you to open your car door and get in - immediately hitting the automatic locks. You started the engine, put your seatbelt on, took one last look at your first love as he tried to plea with you through the rolled up window, then shifted into gear and pulled away.

You felt your anger boil to a new height when you replayed the entire day. How dare Aemond? How dare he try to manipulate this situation? He had no right to ask you to shut the fuck up while his mother was free to run her mouth! Well, first and foremost, how fucking dare Alicent insult and challenge you in such a public setting? How in the Seven Hells had Helaena been the only one to defend you? What the hell did you even need defending against? Why did you showing affection and needing reliable support upset Alicent that much?

Your phone began to ring, and when you glanced at it, you saw Aemond's contact photo displayed on the screen. You ignored it and put your phone on airplane mode, leaving it on for now. However, after a few long moments of stressful thinking, you turned the setting off and called your sister - knowing no matter what, she'd be your rock. When she answered, you told her a simplified version of events, and at the end, your tears had been triggered and she was encouraging you to come over to her house.

You agreed, shut your phone off this time, and drove to your sister's place. When you arrived, you were shocked to find her waiting in the driveway, opening her arms with a pout when you got out of the car. "C'mere," she cooed, enveloping you in her arms when you stepped into her embrace.

"Why do boys suck?" You whimpered.

"Because that's just how they were programed," she sighed.

"Sh-She called me clingy," you managed through your tears, "his mom called me clingy, a-and Aemond d-didn't defend me. So, when I had to defend myself, he just told me to be quiet 'cause his mother wasn't wrong - or what-the-fuck-ever."

"I know, honey," she sympathized, giving you a squeeze. "What're you thinking?"

"That I can't trust someone like that," you admitted. "And if I can't trust them, why be in a relationship?"

She nodded, "I think you know what you need to do next."

"I don't want to."

"Nobody really wants to, but it's necessary," she held your phone out for you after pulling it from your back pocket. "Don't let him or his mother disrespect you - especially in front of his other family members. I mean, shit, how're you supposed to face any of them again after that?"

"Exactly, his mom didn't exactly do it in private..."

"See?" She stared at you while you sighed, shaking your head. Your sister encouraged, "Make the call. This isn't a sustainable relationship, and Aemond shouldn't have to choose his mother and his girl - so, let's just make it easy on him, and you choose. Wanna be with someone who lets his mother say shit like that to you? Who tells you to be quiet, instead of shutting down his mother's insults?"

You frowned, whispering, "I don't think this is enough to break us up. It shouldn't be, right? This shouldn't be the end-all, be-all, should it?"

"No, honey, but the disrespect cannot stand, either," she shot back. "If he felt so comfortable to say that in front of his family like that, you don't wanna know what he's gonna get comfortable doing in more private settings." Tears filled your eyes as she reminded gently, but firmly, "Make the call."

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

Poisoned Apple collection masterlist

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jinxposting · 2 months ago

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Jason Todd x Jinx! reader prologue

Origins

Your parents, not unlike a certain Dark Knight, were killed when you were young

Unsurprising given you were born and raised in Gotham

You were then taken care of by distant relatives

Though "taken care" is a generous term

They offered next to no affection nor attention in general, and with no friends your age you were rather isolated

This gave you time to develop the unique hobby of tinkering

Perhaps it was due to the nature of your parents demise (an explosion caused by a fight between the Bat and Bane) but you'd always had an interest in explosives

A morbid curiosity that only further fueled your guardian's distaste for you

And the direct cause of their other child's (your foster sibling) death

Unlike their parent your sibling was warm towards you, always encouraging your talent

The day you finally succeeded in your endeavors turned out to be the worst day of your life

You hadn't intended to hurt anyone

At the very least not them

Your guardian arrived home after work that day, greeted by a pile of rubble where their house once stood

And a corpse where their child once was

Your cries for forgiveness fell on deaf ears as they beat you, afterwards abandoning you in the remnants of your now decimated home

You'll never forget the look in their eyes

Nothing but pure hatred

You spent a few weeks on the streets after that

You survived on dumpster scraps and slept in alleyways

That was until you made the mistake of breaking into an abandoned warehouse

Piles of metal were strewn about, an old metal working mill you concluded

Your morbid fixation only seemed to worsen with the recent incident

You found yourself once again building your dangerous devices

Even more macabre, part of you hoped to go out in the same manor

Then one night, while you were finishing a grenade, you met them

A large group of muscled men filed into the building

They pointed their weapons at you, some guns, others baseball bats, but all directed at you

You should have been scared

But you were too numb to fear

You pulled the pin and threw the grenade as far into the crowd as you could

Blood

And flying limbs

You pushed past the remaining men only to be pulled back

"Just wait till the boss gets a hold of ya"

After a few moments of regrouping what was left of their forces the men greeted their 'boss'

"You mean to tell me this little runt killed a dozen of my men?" ... "Hahaha!"

That laugh

Everyone knew that laugh

Before you stood none other than the Joker

All smiles, he looked down at you

In one hand he held the remnants of your grenade

You could just barely make out the sharp toothed smile you'd doodled onto it

"This is far too crude to be mass produced. You wouldn't have happened to built this yourself, did you?"

You nodded

"Hahahaha!" He continued to laugh with unrestrained joy

"Harley, get a load of this!"

Out came Harley Quinn, the Joker's right hand

She gawked down at you

"This shrimp caused all this damage? Talk about an explosive personality!"

"Yes, precisely." the Joker kneeled in front of you, offering you the scrapped pieces of grenade "Not every day you see a gift like that."

His smile, albeit menacing, brought you a strange comfort in that moment

You took the offered scrap metal

"Where are your parents?"

"Dead."

"Oh? No siblings?"

"Dead."

"Them too, huh? And how did that happen?"

You looked down at the device

You didn't have to speak for him to understand

Another cackle sounded from the man

"Ha! You're quite the jinx it'd seem."

"Hey that's not a bad name, Puddin'!"

He stroked his chin in thought "It does have a certain ring to it, doesn't it?"

Joker stood back to his full height, looking off in thought

"You know, Harley. The Bat has his little protege, so who says I can't too?"

"Oh, Mistah J! You mean it? I always wanted us to have a little Joker!"

"Not a Joker, Harls." he turned back to you with a wide grin "A Jinx."

#dc comics #bat family #batman #jason todd #joker #harley quinn #jason todd x reader #villain reader #jinx reader #jinx jumbles

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simsontherope · 3 months ago

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Over the years, I’ve built tons of lots for my save. However, some won’t make it into the final version (coming... maybe in a year or two!) and I don’t plan to renovate them.

I’ve been tidying up my blog to remove content I no longer use, but I wanted create an archive of these older builds in case you’d like to download them. So here’s a little recap post!

I’ll provide a link to the files for each lot, but you can also find (most of) them in the Gallery with my EA ID simsontherope.

And feel free to browse through my other creations!

Académie des Arts Obscurs

Location: Glimmerbrook, Rock Ridge Canyon.

Info: Residential, 30x40 lot (40x50 for the Magic Realm version), 6 bedrooms (9 beds) and 4 bathrooms.

Download the files for the Glimmerbrook version: SimFileShare

Download the files for the Magic Realm version: SimFileShare

Chaumière Maudite

Location: Glimmerbrook, Creek Side Corner.

Info: Haunted House Residential, 30x20, two bedrooms and one bathroom.

Download the tray files: SimFileShare

Cabane Ensorcelée

Location: Glimmerbrook, Glimmerbrook Watch.

Info: Residential, 20x30, one bedroom and bathroom.

Download the tray files: SimFileShare

Les Marches

Location: Windenburg (Crumbling Isle), Von-Windenburg Estate.

Info: Residential, 64x64, 5 bedrooms and 4 bathroom.

Download the tray files: SimFileShare

Écarlate et Carmin

Location: Selvadorada (Puerto Llamante Marketplace), Selvadorada Villa.

Info: 30x20 lot, residential or rental, 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms.

Download the tray files: SimFileShare

Chapelle des Deux Astres

Location: Willow Creek (Pendula View), Hallow Slough.

Info: Bar, 20x30.

Download the tray files: SimFileShare

Charmant Cottage

Location: Henford-on-Bagley (Finchwick), 5 Cobblebottom Street, Henford-on-Bagley (Old New Henford), 3 Olde Mill Lane for the empty one.

Info: 30x20 lot (40x50 for the empty one), residential, 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms.

Download the tray files for the regular version: SimFileShare

Download the tray files for the empty version: SimFileShare

Grange en Ruine

Location: Henford-on-Bagley (The Bramblewood), Cordelia's Secret Cottage.

Info: Residential, 20x30, 1 bedroom, 1 bathroom.

Download the tray files: SimFileShare

Secret Enfoui

Location: Brindleton Bay (Cavalier Cove), Hindquarter Hideaway.

Info: Residential, 20x30, 6 bedrooms, 4 bathroom.

Download the tray files: SimFileShare

Café des Brumes

Location: Evergreen Harbor (Grims Quarry), Miner Mansion.

Info: Café, 20x30.

Download the tray files: SimFileShare

Rêverie Abordable

Location: Evergreen Harbor (Grims Quarry), Rockridge Springs.

Info: Residential, 20x30, 2 bedrooms, 1 bathroom.

Download the tray files: SimFileShare

Fin des Temps

Location: Strangerville (Plaza), Slip 42.

Info: Residential, 20x15, 1 bedroom and bathroom.

Download the tray files: SimFileShare

Dans l’Air du Temps

Location: Britechester (Gibbs Hill), Mossy Lane.

Info: Residential, 20x15, 2 bedrooms and one bathroom.

Download the tray files: SimFileShare

Un Temps Révolu

Location: Britechester (Gibbs Hill), Spring Steppes.

Info: Residential, 20x15, 3 bedrooms and one bathroom.

Download the tray files: SimFileShare

Château de l'Ormyeu

Location: Windenburg (Windslar), Dresden House.

Info: Residential, 64x64, 6 bedrooms (including one for the butler), 6 bathrooms.

Download the tray files : SimFileShare

Vue Dégagée

Location: Evergreen Harbor (Conifer Station), Pigulock Manor.

Info: Residential, 30x20, two bedrooms and one bathroom.

Download the tray files: SimFileShare

De Briques et de Broc

Location: Evergreen Harbor (Conifer Station), Canal Corner.

Info: Residential, 20x15, two bedrooms and bathrooms.

Download the tray files: SimFileShare

Au Fringant Destrier

Location: Britechester (University of Britechester ), Darkwing House.

Info: Residential or University Housing , 20x30, four bedrooms and two bathrooms.

Download the tray files: Residential or University Housing

That’s all for now! But I might add more builds here in the future if I decide to retire another lot.

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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago

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No Prey, No Pay (opla!zoro x you)

summary: after steering him to a successful bounty, zoro can't stop thinking about you. he decides to do something about it. (Part 2 to Parley)

wc: 1.67k

cw/tags: domestic zoro crumbs, idiots in love but they don't know how to express it, canon-typical violence, zoro is so himbo i love him

note: thank you for all the love on my first two zoro posts!!!! i'm so so so happy y'all liked them; this is one of the first times in a while i've actually been super giddy writing a character. i really hope he's not too ooc, i tried to keep his himbo-ness intact. hope you enjoy!!!

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated <3

“Here to try killing me again?”

“Oh,” is all he can sputter out, frozen on the doorstep of the Lady’s manor. The stout, shriveled old woman before him was not who he was looking for. To make matters worse, the flower he’d picked from the hillside on his way up the driveway suddenly seemed like a gargantuan beanstock in his fingers. His face was warming but, for the life of him, he could not figure out why. “You’re not–”

“Nope. They’re in the Farmers’ Market,” she deadpans without hesitation, eyeing him with all the amusement of a PhD candidate reading a children’s book. “The Farmers’ Market I created, by the way.”

“Right,” he replies shortly, turning abruptly on his heel and letting his eyes widen in pure horror when she can’t see his face. He tosses the flower into a nearby planter, well aware that she can still see his every move. After several misguided attempts to navigate back to your isolated piece of land in the East Blue, he approached the ornately decorated door with a little more excitement than he expected. Having the Lady whom he’d tried to kill a few weeks prior be the one to open the door was another funny twist of irony that caused him an odd feeling of embarrassment, like he’d dropped you off after a date ten minutes past your curfew. “Thank you for your time.”

“Tell me, pirate hunter,” she called to his back patronizingly. “Why grace us again with your oh-so-menacing presence?”

“I’m wondering the exact same thing,” he mutters, irritated at his failed attempt to find you on the first try.

“When you find them, tell them to pick up more sweet potatoes. I thought we had enough for dinner, but we could use a few more now that you’re here,” the Lady instructs him and her words take a few seconds to register in his mind. But, by the time he’s turned around to ask her what she meant, the door is already shut and he’s too proud to knock again.

As if the mortification on your porch wasn’t enough, it’s nearly impossible to find you in the milling swarms of people in town. The people part naturally for him as he passes, sneaking anxious glances at the three swords on his hip. Whispers of his occupation and intentions float around his ears but he pays them no mind, determined to spot you. Again, he wasn’t sure what he was doing there in the first place; but, no matter what anyone else said, he did know one thing. By some unexpected turn of Fate, he missed you.

“Shopping for produce while you hunt? I didn’t know you could multitask.” The teasing lilt of your voice appears behind him and he can’t help smirking. You’d found him before he found you, even though it was his job to find people. “Word to the wise: the vendors will upcharge you because they know you’re not from the island.”

“What if you’re there with me?” When he finally turns to face you, his eyes flick to the canvas bag slung over your shoulder. It’s stuffed with fruits and vegetables, along with a jar of honey from the beekeeper just up the road from your house.

“They’ll upcharge you more and insist you pay for my stuff,” you reply nonchalantly. “Now that I think of it, maybe we should walk around together.” You brush past him and re-enter the bustling square like he was the last thing on your mind, when really he was the only thing for the past week. You’re certain he’d follow behind you and your theory is confirmed when his voice comes from over your right shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”

“You’re wearing the bracelet,” he observes, easily slipping into place next to you as if it was natural to be by your side. With the sword-clad bounty hunter next to you, it was much easier to navigate the market without bumping every resident of the island.

“Mhmm, I told you I liked it,” you say absentmindedly, stopping at a stand and picking up a vibrantly colored fruit from the stack. Observing it for bruises and finding none, you signal the seller that you’d like to buy the piece in your hand. His farm-worn hand stretches out to you and you fish around in your bag briefly for coins. But, before you can place the money in his hand, Zoro’s fingers are already dropping an unnecessarily large quantity into the shocked farmer’s palm. You gape at him and his unchangingly blank expression, shaking your head in disbelief when he glances at you, eyes shining arrogantly. “Where’d you get all that money and why did you do that?”

“Bounties,” he answers plainly, “and ‘cause I wanted to. Next stand?” You’re still slightly frozen from pure surprise, but he shrugs carefreely and tilts his head toward the rest of the vendors.

“Feel like enlightening me on why you’re here again?” It’s the fourth or fifth stand he’s accompanied you to and, at this point, you were just window-shopping. Since he joined you on your errand, you hadn’t spent any more money; before you could pay any of the sellers, they were already thanking you profusely for your generosity with a pile of shining coins in their hands. Zoro proved to be a very patient companion, respectfully giving his opinions on which piece of produce looked bigger or more appetizing. With most of the required items on your shopping list successfully in your bag, you find yourself drifting over to the stalls of mundane things like pretty flowers and colorful crystals.

“There’s a Marine defector turned intelligence smuggler hiding somewhere in the area. Thought I’d knock out two birds with one stone.” You turn over a piece of aventurine in your fingers, admiring it from different angles in the sunlight. Your breath hitches slightly when Zoro’s face dips down next to yours, watching the crystal from the same angle.

“What’s the other bird?” You glance at him from the corner of your eye.

“Visiting you,” he replies without hesitation, plucking the crystal from your fingers and tossing more coins at the vendor. You don’t stop the laugh that escapes your mouth and you swear his smirk gets more self-assured as he drops the rock into your bag. At a point when you aren’t looking, he swings your bag onto a broad shoulder as easily as if it was a piece of paper. “Also, we need sweet potatoes.” Your eyebrows raise in amusement at his slip.

“We?” You have to fight down another giggle when his face becomes slightly pinker, imperceptible if you weren’t already staring at him. “Since when were we anything?”

“Your boss said she needed more sweet potatoes. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

“I wasn’t aware that you went to go see her.”

“I wasn’t either, and then she opened the door instead of you,” he admits and you chuckle at his expression of distaste. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have–get behind me.” Before he can finish his thought, his arm shoots out in front of you, effectively halting you a split second before a knife darts across your vision, embedding itself into the wooden post next to you. The surrounding market-goers break into chaotic panic and you have no choice but to press your back against Zoro’s to prevent getting swept away. Emerging from the crowd, a lethal-looking group of fighters encircle you two and your hand finds the hilt of your saber.

“Pirates?”

“No. Bounty hunters.”

“Friends of yours?” You eye the group warily as the marketplace empties, people running into the nearest building they could find to spectate the upcoming battle.

“I’d call them ‘occupational competition’ on a good day.”

“Ah, great,” you huff sarcastically. “What’d you do to piss them off?”

“Exist,” he deadpans and you hum in assent.

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” you mutter and you start to pull your blade from its sheath, anticipating the fight ahead of you.

“Don’t.” The single word halts your movements and your stomach drops in fear of what he’s sensing.

“What?”

“Let me handle this,” he says in a low tone that makes your skin break into goosebumps. “Can you hold the bag while I deal with them?”

“You sure?”

“Yep. This won’t take long,” he says irritatedly, scowling at the rival hunters that interrupted his day.

“Alright. I’m gonna go get sweet potatoes, then.”

“Third one down on the left. I’ll meet you over there,” he promises before moving faster than you can comprehend, whirling and downing the two attackers in front of you without even drawing his swords. They howl in pain when you stab your blade into their feet for good measure before leisurely making your way further down the street. As you walk, Zoro clears the path for you, mercilessly incapacitating every enemy with ease. By the time you find the sweet potato stall, there’s only one persistent fighter still giving the swordsman problems. You don’t feel any ounce of fear, however, as you pick through the salvageable gourds while the clashing of swords rings out behind you. Eventually, the street quiets and Zoro returns to your side as if nothing happened at all. “Good?”

“I’m fine,” you say truthfully, running your thumb over the bruise of an otherwise good potato. “You think this one’s still okay?” After peering at it and deeming it safe, he nods.

“Yeah, it should be fine. If anything, you can just cut off the ugly spot.” There’s a splattering of red just under his eye when you meet his gaze. Your fingers unconsciously come up to wipe the speck of blood from his cheek and his skin feels just as electric as the first time you touched him.

“Cool. I’m done shopping then, so we can go back home.”

“We?”

“You’re staying for dinner. It isn’t a request,” you command lightheartedly and smile when his steps fall into line next to yours.

“Mmm, I can’t wait.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #opla!zoro x you #opla!zoro x y/n #opla!zoro x reader #opla x you #opla x reader #opla x y/n

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sassenach77yle · 5 months ago

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||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 1 EPISODE 12 || LALLYBROCH ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

Broch Tuarach means “the north-facing tower.”

From the side of the mountain above, the broch that gave the small estate its name was no more than another mound of rocks, much like those that lay at the foot of the hills we had been traveling through. We came down through a narrow, rocky gap between two crags, leading the horse between boulders. Then the going was easier, the land sloping more gently down through the fields and scattered cottages, until at last we struck a small winding road that led to the house. It was larger than I had expected; a handsome three-story manor of harled white stone, windows outlined in the natural grey stone, a high slate roof with multiple chimneys, and several smaller whitewashed buildings clustered about it, like chicks about a hen. The old stone broch, situated on a small rise to the rear of the house, rose sixty feet above the ground, cone-topped like a witch’s hat, girdled with three rows of tiny arrow-slits. As we drew near, there was a sudden terrible racket from the direction of the outbuildings, and Donas shied and reared. No horseman, I promptly fell off, landing ignominiously in the dusty road. With an eye for the relative importance of things, Jamie leapt for the plunging horse’s bridle, leaving me to fend for myself. The dogs were almost upon me, baying and growling, by the time I found my feet. To my panicked eyes, there seemed to be at least a dozen of them, all with teeth bared and wicked. There was a shout from Jamie. “Bran! Luke! Sheas!” The dogs skidded to a halt within a few feet of me, confused. They milled, growling uncertainly, until he spoke again. “Sheas, mo maise! Stand, ye wee heathen!” They did, and the largest dog’s tail began gradually to wag, once, and then twice, questioningly. “Claire. Come take the horse. He’ll not let them close, and it’s me they want. Walk slowly; they’ll no harm ye.” He spoke casually, not to alarm either horse or dogs further. I was not so sanguine, but edged carefully toward him. Donas jerked his head and rolled his eyes as I took the bridle, but I was in no mood to put up with tantrums, and I yanked the rein firmly down and grabbed the headstall.

The thick velvet lips writhed back from his teeth, but I jerked harder. I put my face close to the big glaring golden eye and glared back. “Don’t try it!” I warned, “or you’ll end up as dogsmeat, and I won’t lift a hand to save you!” Jamie meanwhile was slowly walking toward the dogs, one hand held out fistlike toward them. What had seemed a large pack was only four dogs: a small brownish rat-terrier, two ruffed and spotted shepherds, and a huge black and tan monster that could have stood in for the Hound of the Baskervilles with no questions asked. This slavering creature stretched out a neck thicker than my waist and sniffed gently at the proffered knuckles. A tail like a ship’s cable beat back and forth with increasing fervor. Then it flung back its enormous head, baying with joy, and leaped on its master, knocking him flat in the road.

“‘In which Odysseus returns from the Trojan War and is recognized by his faithful hound,’ ”

I remarked to Donas, who snorted briefly, giving his opinion either of Homer, or of the undignified display of emotion going on in the roadway. Jamie, laughing, was ruffling the fur and pulling the ears of the dogs, who were all trying to lick his face at once. Finally he beat them back sufficiently to rise, keeping his feet with difficulty against their ecstatic demonstrations. “Well, someone’s glad to see me, at any rate,” he said, grinning, as he patted the beast’s head. “That’s Luke—” he pointed to the terrier, “and Elphin and Mars. Brothers, they are, and bonny sheep-dogs. And this,” he laid an affectionate hand on the enormous black head, which slobbered in appreciation, “is Bran.” “I’ll take your word for it,” I said, cautiously extending a knuckle to be sniffed. “What is he?” “A staghound.” He scratched the pricked ears, quoting“Thus Fingal chose his hounds:Eye like sloe, ear like leaf,Chest like horse, hough like sickleAnd the tail joint far from the head.” “If those are the qualifications, then you’re right,” I said, inspecting Bran. “If his tail joint were any further from his head, you could ride him.” “I used to, when I was small—not Bran, I don’t mean, but his grandfather, Nairn.” He gave the hound a final pat and straightened, gazing toward the house. He took the restive Donas’s bridle and turned him downhill. “In which Odysseus returns to his home, disguised as a beggar,…” he quoted in Greek, having picked up my earlier remark. “And now,” he said, straightening his collar with some grimness, “I suppose it’s time to go and deal with Penelope and her suitors.” When we reached the double doors, the dogs panting at our heels, Jamie hesitated.

“Should we knock?” I asked, a bit nervous. He looked at me in astonishment. “It’s my home,” he said, and pushed the door open.

26THE LAIRD’S RETURN ~ OUTLANDER

#outlander #outlanderedit #the frasers #outlander series #outlander starz #outlander fanart #jamie fraser #jamie&claire #samheughan #jamie and claire #outlander book #outlander books #claire beauchamp #dr claire randall #claire fraser #caitrionabalfe #outlander season 1 #outlander 1x12

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lunaeregnum · 1 year ago

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#the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 historical #ts4 historical gameplay #lunae regnum #olde mill manor #Lyra Keeble

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dccomicsimagines · 2 years ago

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Bruce’s Birthday - Batfamily Imagine

Requested by Anon - Can I get a birthday with Bruce and the batsibling!reader? Batkids mayhem please

***

Cass peered down at Bruce from her place in the rafters. Below was the Gotham Children’s Charity gala. People in fancy, flashy clothes, milling around. She heard the annoying murmurs of gossip and fake personas.

Bruce’s shoulders held an unfamiliar tension. She tilted her head. His lips pressed together as he made small talk with a few businessmen. She swore she saw a sadness that felt unknown to her.

“Cass, you promised you wouldn’t hide up here,” Tim said. He juggled a plate of food in one hand as he shuffled on the rafter to her side. Cass took the plate and helped herself to some baked brie.

“Watching.” She looked back at Bruce who was now moving through the crowd toward Selina, who had just entered in a sparkly red dress. Cass smiled, noting Bruce seemed happier, but the sadness was still there. Hidden, but barely.

“Yeah, it’s quite a bore this year.” Tim swung his legs as he settled down beside her. He took a grape from the plate. “I wondered if we should have set up Two Face to rob the place or something?”

Cass looked at Tim, narrowing her eyes. “Bad joke.” She turned back to Bruce to find him whispering in Selina’s ear. “Bruce is sad.”

Tim followed her gaze. He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“He’s sad. He hides it, but it’s stays.” Cass gave Tim the plate and wrapped her arms around herself. The simple black dress was comfortable, but she missed her pajamas. After discovering how comfortable they were, she would only change out of them after being bribed with the promise of more cozy pjs. She was on her twelfth set now.

“Well, his birthday is coming up. He always gets sad around this time. It’s probably because of (Y/N).” Tim took a bite of the baked brie, groaning at the taste.

"(Y/N)?" Cass blinked. She remembered Alfred and Dick mentioning you in stories about Dick’s early Robin days. You were Bruce's oldest child. Apparently, you haven't been home in almost seven years.

"Yeah, they used to make a big deal out of it." Tim chuckled. "Dick told me about it. I wanted to try to do what they did, but...I think it will just make him sad that they won't come home."

"Why?" Cass studied Tim, noting how he wouldn't look her in the eye.

Tim pursed his lips. "I don't know why actually. Dick won't talk about it, neither will Alfred. Must have been a big deal though."

Cass looked back at Bruce. He was staring at the far wall, not really seeing anything. She tapped her chin as an idea slowly began to form in her head.

***

Dick was just settling down on his couch with a bowl of popcorn in hand and Barbara next to him when Cass suddenly climbed out from under the coffee table. He almost spilled the popcorn, but Barbara caught it.

"I knew she was there," Barbara laughed, reaching up to close Dick's jaw. She offered popcorn to Cass.

Cass' eyes brightened as she helped herself and sat cross-legged on the coffee table. "Thank you."

Dick's heart calmed. He chuckled to himself. "What brings you here, Cassie? You don't normally come to Bludhaven unannounced?"

Cass tilted her head, studying Dick with a carefulness that made his hair stand on end. "Bruce’s birthday."

"Yes, it’s next Sunday." Barbara sighed, muting the TV when a loud commercial started to play. "Do you need help finding something for Bruce?"

Cass nodded. She suddenly stood up and walked over to the wall. Dick leaned over, frowning slightly when she picked up the picture of you, him, and Bruce. It had been taken a year after Dick arrived in the manor. The three of you were in Alfred's garden, helping him tend it as punishment for breaking yet another vase.

"That's an old picture," Dick said after Cass held it out to him. "I think Bruce probably has that one."

Cass shook her head and pointed to you. You were so young, so bright eyed. Dick missed you so much that his heart shattered into pieces.

"That's (Y/N). You know about them, Cass," Barbara said after Dick couldn't get himself to speak.

"Bruce is sad. Misses (Y/N)." Cass pointed at you again. "We find (Y/N)."

"No, we can't do that. (Y/N) doesn't want to talk to Bruce." Dick swallowed past the lump in his throat.

Barbara eyed Dick curiously. "So you know where they are?"

Dick's eyes widened. He suddenly realized he might as well be in a viper's den. Cass leaned closer, narrowing her eyes.

"Fine, I do. (Y/N) didn't cut me out of their life. Jay probably knows too. I made sure to reintroduce him once he...got better." The blood ran out of Dick’s face as he found his phone was suddenly in Cass's hands.

"Cass, no." Barbara held her hand out for the phone. "I love you want to help Bruce, but what happened between (Y/N) and Bruce is between them."

Cass shook her head. "How long will they hurt each other?" She looked at Dick's phone before carefully handing it to Barbara.

Dick frowned. He wondered if maybe he should intervene? Seven years had been long enough. Eventually it would be too late for you and Bruce.

He tucked his phone back in his pocket. Now wasn’t the time to revisit the past. He wrapped his arm around Barbara’s shoulders.

“Cass, you aren’t staying?” Barbara asked. Dick blinked, finding Cass by the window.

“No, enjoy your night.” She opened it swiftly and leaped out into the night. Dick hummed, turning to share a look with Barbara.

“I should be worried, shouldn’t I?” Dick bit his lip when Barbara shrugged.

“Everything will be fine. Now Hunk-Wonder, start the movie.” She leaned forward, kissing him. All thoughts of you and Cass left his mind.

***

You paced your office at the D.E.O. “I don’t care what you have to do. Kill the project. We don’t mess with Gotham,” you snapped into your phone. The agent on the other end stammered. “No, cut it off now or I’ll be down there and you don’t want me down there.”

The agent sighed. “Yes, chief.” You hung up the phone, slamming it on your desk. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm down.

“Fuck me.” You collapsed in your office chair and spun around to look out your window. It was the Gotham skyline. You snorted. It was missing the smog. Mister Bones thought it was funny to give you a Gotham projection on your fake window. You might have to slip him another exploding cigar again.

Your heart panged, but you pushed it away and turned back to your desk. There were files to look through, memos to send, mission to approve. You rubbed your eyes, wishing you could go home to your apartment. Maybe call the number that person in the bar gave you last weekend?

However, you shook your head and opened the first file. In the corner of your eye, you noticed the date. A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed past it and focused on the task at hand.

***

The manor library was quiet. Cass’ eyes were on the door as it swung open and Tim walked in. He was consumed by his tablet.

“Tim,” Cass said as she dropped down from the top shelf of the bookshelf and landed silently behind him.

Tim flinched, almost dropping his tablet. “Geez, Cass.” He let out a shaky breath, pressing a hand against his chest.

“Bruce’s birthday is in three days.” She held up three fingers. “We need to get (Y/N) here.”

“You’re still on that, huh?” Tim ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. It’s not a matter we should meddle with. Have you talked to Dick?”

Cass nodded. “He will not help, but I got their number.” She tapped her temple. “We find (Y/N) and bring them here. For Bruce.”

Tim pursed his lips. “Like kidnap them? (Y/N) was pretty much a badass. Even if we get them here, then what?” He reached out and put a hand on Cass’ shoulder. “We can’t make them get along. Do you even know why they fought?”

“No, but it doesn’t matter.” Cass brushed Tim away. “Time is short, life is short. We make this happen because we are family.”

A big sigh escaped Tim. Cass smiled, knowing she won. “Okay, okay. I’ll help, but this was your idea. If this blows up, it’s all your fault,” Tim said, handing Cass his tablet. “Type in their number, let’s see what we can find.”

Cass wanted to dance. She knew this would a birthday Bruce would never forget.

***

You knew something was wrong from the moment you stepped into your apartment. Carefully setting down your keys and bag of takeout on the side table, you pulled out your collapsed baton and flipped it to it’s full length.

A breeze blew through the window. You raised an eyebrow. “Dick? Jason?” You called, turning the corner to your kitchen quickly only to find no one there. Goosebumps rose on your skin as you heard a creak down in your bedroom.

You moved silently down the hall. A sharp breath gasped behind you. You spun, aiming the baton to hit the person in the face. “Ouch, my nose,” a boy in a Robin suit said, stumbling back and holding his face.

“Why the fuck are you in my house?” You kicked his feet out from under him and held him down with a foot on his throat. He was young, dark hair. Standard Robin. Racking your brain, you tried to remember what his name was. Dick mentioned him once or twice. “Tim, right?”

“Yeah, nice to meet you.” He gripped your ankle. “Can you get off?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” A soft almost silent thump came from behind you. You raised your hand and caught a fist that shot out of the darkness next to you. “Batgirl?”

“Yes.” She stepped out into the light. You took in her in. She was little, but strong. Her face hidden by her mask completely. “We’re here because of Bruce.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You removed your foot from Tim’s neck and stepped back to eye the new Batgirl. What was her name? Jason mentioned she was the daughter of David Cain. Trained to be the ultimate living weapon, but she chose her own path. Cass? That was what he called her?

She helped Tim up. You threw him a box of tissues for his nose. “What does D...Bruce want?” Your gut twisted at the slip. You made yourself stop calling him Dad years ago. It made it less painful.

“Bruce is sick,” Cass said, tilting her head. The look that Tim gave her left you doubting it.

“And that has to do with me because?” You turned your back on them and went to grab your food by the door. The two followed you to the kitchen as you got out a plate. After a moment, you grabbed two more.

“He misses you,” Tim said. His nose made him sound stuffed up. You took out an ice pack from your freezer and handed it to him. He gave you a bloody smile, pressing it to his face.

“Right.” You opened containers, splitting food among the three plates. Luckily, you always bought more than you could eat. Leftovers were must with the D.E.O demanding schedule.

“He does.” Cass took a seat, pulling off her mask. You paused, noting she looked very much like Lady Shiva. Now it all made sense. “You need to come to him.”

You set plates in front of them. “How did you even find out where I live? Or anything about me for that matter?”

Tim and Cass shared a look.

“I’m going to kill Dick,” you muttered under your breath. “What do you want to drink?” You dug into your fridge.

“Thanks,” Tim said as he happily took a can of soda. Cass stayed with water. You joined them with your own drink.

“Thank you for feeding us.” Cass’ voice was so soft. You smiled at her.

“Well, you are family, I guess.” You watched as Tim happily dug into his plate. “Bruce is always picking up new kids.”

Cass frowned, ignoring the food. “You’re angry.”

You took a bite of your food. “At Bruce, I was. Now I’m just...over it.” You shrugged. “He’s going to be him. Nothing I can do about it.”

“He is stubborn. Runs in the family.” Tim took a sip of his soda, smirking when you glared at him. “Alfred said it, not me.”

Alfred’s name made your heart ache. You needed to call him more often. “Yeah, I see you’ve taken to the role of annoying kid siblings very nicely. Dick must be feeling the karma now.” You laughed. “He’s the worst. Always messing with me.”

“Dick didn’t tell us where you were, we found you on our own.” Cass poked at the food on the plate, wrinkling her nose slightly. “Bruce’s birthday is tomorrow.”

You sighed, pushing your plate away as your stomach soured. “I know.”

“Come.” Cass reached out to touch your hand.

“It’s not that simple.” You flinched away from her. Tim glanced between the two of you, eyes wide. “Some things you can’t come back from.”

“Why?” Cass tilted her head.

You stood up suddenly, taking your plate to the counter. “He wished I’d never been born. Said I was a mistake. I told him he should have died in the alley with his parents.” You winced at the sharp intakes of breath behind you. “But it’s fine.”

“You’re tired.” Her chair scraped and suddenly she was beside you. “You hurt. Bruce hurts too. It’s time to forgive.”

Your temper flared, but you let out a slow breath to cool it. “Why does it matter so much to you?”

Cass swallowed hard. “Bruce needs you. He isn’t...whole.” She pressed a hand against her chest. “I know people who have regrets because they let things fester. I don’t want that for our family. Jason has made amends, now you should.”

“Well, Jay always needed Bruce. Even when he was younger.” You pursed your lips. Jason craved Bruce’s attention more than anything. Still did. You remembered being jealous, but it gave you time to pursue your own interests without Bruce noticing. “I don’t care.”

“(Y/N), I know it’s not my place and I just met you today, but you’re basically like my sibling with how much Alfred and Dick talk about you,” Tim said. You turned to look at him. He played with his fork, not meeting your eye. “I lost my mom and dad. I wish every day that I could tell them I love them one last time. Bruce isn’t getting younger and things are getting more dangerous...well, I think you don’t want to regret not reaching out or at least trying, right?”

You sighed. Cass nudged your arm. You glanced between the two of them. “Fine.”

Cass smiled, eyes lightening up. “Really?” Tim dropped his fork in surprise.

“I’ll go, but don’t get your hopes up. Bruce is still a stubborn pig.” You rolled your eyes as Cass suddenly hugged you. You blinked at the touch before gently patting her back. Tim hesitated, but you opened your other arm and let him join too. “For what it’s worth, it was nice to meet you two at last either way.”

“Ditto.” Tim grinned. Cass just buried her face deeper into your shoulder.

***

Bruce rolled his eyes at the sound of clattering in the kitchen. “Alfred wouldn’t be happy to find you in here,” he said as he opened the door to find Dick, Tim, Barbara, and Stephanie in the middle of attempting to make breakfast.

Dick and Tim were covered in flour. Barbara was by the stove, frying what looked to be turkey bacon. Steph happily chopped fruit.

Bruce noticed the swelling around Tim’s nose. He made a note to ask him about it later.

“Alfred asked us to help,” Dick said, pushing Tim away from him. Tim laughed, grabbing a towel to try to clean up.

“He did?” Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“Alfred is having tea with a guest out in the garden. He wanted you to join him once you woke up,” Barbara said, rolling her eyes at Dick and Tim.

“Don’t worry. It’s not Selina.” Steph smirked as she ate a piece of banana. Bruce narrowed his eyes at her, but she just laughed.

Bruce hummed. “Alright. Barbara, don’t let the boys near the stove.” He walked out with the sound of Dick and Tim’s protests behind him. A rare smile tugged at his lips.

For the one hundredth time today, he missed you. He imagined you would have been in the kitchen, keeping Dick and Tim out of trouble while baking your special birthday breakfast that only you could make. His heart ached. Why did he push you away when he should have been pulling you close?

Cass was waiting by the doors to the garden. She skipped up to him and kissed his cheek. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, frowning at the glee hidden in her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Alfred’s waiting.” She gave him a quick hug and ran off.

Bruce stepped out into the garden. He walked the path toward the place Alfred always had tea. Laughter reached his ears as he approached. He stopped just before the final corner, listening.

“That cannot be true. You must be pulling my leg,” Alfred said, chuckling in a way Bruce hadn’t heard in a long time. “They can’t have created a Superman musical.”

“Yep, it’s all the hype in NYC right now. Apparently, it got nominated for a few Tonys.” Bruce’s heart stopped. That voice. Could it be? Bruce peeked around the corner. “I think one of the songs goes like ‘Superman, he flies as much as he sings. Superman, he does all the things.’ Honestly, it’s stuck in my head,” you laughed hard. You were older, more mature. A lump formed in his throat. His little baby grew up.

Alfred shook his head. “Unbelievable what the theater has become.”

“I’ll get you tickets next time you’re in town,” you said, picking up your tea cup.

Alfred clicked his tongue, standing up. “I’m happy you are finally home, Mx. (Y/N).” He poured another cup of tea in the third cup on the table. “Now I believe it’s time for me to go in and check on the others.”

“I’ll come with...” You stood up, stopping when you turned to meet Bruce’s eye. Bruce almost ducked back around the corner, but stopped himself.

Alfred patted your shoulder. “You both have much to discuss.” He walked toward Bruce, leaning over to whisper. “Don’t you dare blow this, Master Bruce. I doubt you’ll get another chance.”

Bruce pursed his lips, watching as Alfred left. He hummed, turning back to you when you took a breath.

“So...” You shoved your hands in your pockets, rocking on your feet like you used to do when you were a child. Bruce felt a smile tug at his lips. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” He approached you slowly. To your credit, you didn’t move away. “(Y/N)...you’ve grown.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that happens after seven years.”

“I heard you are pretending to work for Broadway,” Bruce said, raising an eyebrow. The Batman in him wanted to interrogate you. The father in him cursed the Batman in this moment. “But you are actually working for the D.E.O.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes as you looked over his head at the manor. “Sure, I am. I should have known that would be the first thing you would say.” Bruce could feel you distancing yourself.

“I...” Bruce sighed. He pressed a hand over his mouth. “I always mess up with you, don’t I?”

Your eyes widened in slight surprise. “Yeah, you do. I suppose you do it to all of us except maybe the new kids. Tim and Cass seem very nice. Maybe a little too intrusive?”

Bruce blinked. He remembered Cass and Tim went off comms last night. Tim’s bruised nose made more sense. You always aimed for noses. A habit he tried to break you of. “They brought you here, didn’t they?”

“Mostly Cass, but Tim was there too.” You shrugged. “They convinced me to come. Cass wanted me here for your birthday because she said you missed me.”

He blinked. Of course Cass would have noticed that. “That’s true.” Bruce took a step toward you. “So much. I miss your laugh, your smile, the way you make fun of me at every turn.” His chest was heavy with rare emotion. “You’re my child. I loved you since you were first put in my arms.” A lump formed in his throat. “I was angry and I didn’t mean what I said to you all those years ago. I’ve regretted every day since.”

A cloud covered the sun. Your face disappeared in the shadow. A low hum came from you. Bruce wondered if this was how everyone else felt when he responded with only an indecipherable hum.

The cloud passed. Bruce saw tears in your eyes as the light revealed your face. “I’m sorry too. What I said in return...unforgiveable.”

Bruce opened his arms. “(Y/N), I’m happy you are home.”

You stared at him for a moment and suddenly you were flying into his arms. Breath left Bruce’s lungs. You were bigger and stronger now. “I love you, Dad.” You whispered softly, hiding your face into his shoulder.

“I love you too, my little cookie monster.” Bruce smirked when you scoffed, pulling away to look him in the eye.

“Don’t ever call me that again, old man.” You narrowed your eyes as Bruce laughed, clapping a hand on your shoulder.

“Sure.” Bruce led you over to the tea table. “Now I want to hear everything.” You tensed, but Bruce held up his hands. “Nothing you don’t want to tell me and I actually prefer if you don’t tell me about the D.E.O.”

You snorted. “Wow, you have gotten softer. I thought Dick and Jay were lying.” You took a seat and added sugar to Bruce’s tea. Bruce smiled, realizing you remembered how he took his tea.

“We’ll spar later and then you can see how soft I’ve become.” Bruce studied you. When you were younger, Alfred always claimed you looked a lot like Bruce. Bruce never could see it. He always saw your mother, but now, you were definitely his child and he couldn’t be prouder.

***

Cass tittered, watching you and Bruce from a window on the second floor. The two of you were laughing. Her lips pulled up in a big grin.

“How are they doing?” Tim asked suddenly. Cass jumped a little, narrowing her eyes as he laughed. He stepped up beside her to look out the window too. “I’m getting better at sneaking.”

“Better, but not great.” Cass snorted as Tim gasped. She ignored his protests. Bruce’s shoulders relaxed. His jaw loose, smile lines appeared on his face. She sighed.

“What?” Tim asked once he realized Cass wasn’t listening to him.

Cass looked at Tim, reaching up to touch his bruised nose. Tim winced. “Bruce is happy now.”

Tim looked out the window. He smirked. “Yeah, I think he is.” Cass wrapped her arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder. Both of them kept their eyes on Bruce and you. The family was finally reunited.

#Batfamily #Batfamily x reader #Batfamily imagine #batman #batman imagine #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #cassandra cain #cass cain #cassandra cain imagine #cass cain imagine #batsibling #batsis #batbro #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert

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writers-potion · 11 months ago

Note

Do you have any tips on how to name a story/book? Bc I’m really struggling to come up with something good

Book Title Ideas!!

Fantasy Book Titles

"The Chronicles of Eldoria"

"Realm of the Shadow King"

"Echoes of the Lost Kingdom"

"The Crystal Throne"

"Legends of the Eternal Dragon"

"The Hitman's Apprentice"

"Sorcery of the Silver Moon"

"Beyond the Enchanted Forest"

"Tales of the Arcane Isles"

"The Last Guardian of Light"

"Crown of the Winter Realm"

"The Fireborn Chronicles"

"Winds of the Wandering Mage"

"Secrets of the Starlit Citadel"

"The Frost Queen's Curse"

"Whispers from the Ancient Tome"

"Sword of the Celestial Knight"

"The Phoenix's Prophecy"

"Echoes of Eternity"

"The Shadow's Embrace"

Romance Book Titles

"Swiping Right"

"Romantic Vibes Only"

"Coffee Shop Confessions"

"The Social Media Sweetheart"

"Chasing Sunsets"

"Love Notes and Lattes"

"Lost in Translation"

"The Dating App Dilemma"

"Love in the Fast Lane"

"City Lights and Romance"

"Instant Chemistry"

"The Modern Love Story"

"Love in the Clouds"

"Swipe Left for Heartache"

"Heartstrings and Harmony"

Mystery Novel Titles

"The Enigma of Midnight Manor"

"Murder on the Moors"

"Whispers in the Shadows"

"The Secret of Willow Creek"

"Death at Darkwater Bay"

"The Puzzle of the Poisoned Pen"

"Ghosts of Greyhill Mansion"

"Vanishing at Verona Villa"

"The Mystery of Moonstone Manor"

"Murder in the Misty Woods"

"The Case of the Crimson Cipher"

"The Secret of Sapphire Springs"

"The Silent Suspect"

"Echoes of the Old Mill"

"A Lethal Legacy"

"The Mystery of Midnight Hollow"

"Murder Among the Magnolias"

"The Cryptic Conundrum"

"The Haunting of Hawthorn House"

"Deadly Deception in Dahlia Valley"

YA Novel Titles

"The Echoes Between Us"

"Invisible Constellations"

"Catching Shadows"

"Threads of Serendipity"

"Bloom and Blossom"

"Growing Pains and Paper Planes"

"Dandelions in the Wind"

"Whispers in the Quiet Hours"

"Crossroads of Everlasting Echoes"

"Forgotten Names"

"The Color of Tomorrow"

"Redefining Normal"

"Footprints in the Sand"

"The Art of Glowing Up"

Paranormal Book Titles

"Mystic Bonds"

"Wolfblood Chronicles"

"Twilight's Enchantment"

"Soulbound Serenade"

"Nightfall Destiny"

"Nightshade Kisses"

"The Crimson Courtship"

"Bloodbound: A Tale of Moonlit Passion"

"Witchcraft and Whispers"

"Enchantress' Embrace"

"Heartbeat Hex"

"Welcome to the Coven of Desire"

"A Moonlit Affair"

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

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inklore · 1 year ago

Text

forbidden cravings

premise: stay in your room; that's all you had to do. a simple demand that you planned on following until something goes bump in the night and you're trapped between two monsters.

pairing: vampire!din djarin x reader x vampire!bo-katan kryze

word count: 5k

contents: blood and biting obviously, oral, threats, murder mention, reader is a little clueless, power imbalance, bo is kinda evil but we love her for it, brief mention of piv.

note: this took me way too long to write and by the end of it i was very tired so hopefully someone out there enjoys this lmao. i could possibly see myself writing more within this little world, maybe.

haunted hoedown day five.

You had never noticed how creaky the house was until tonight. Until you were stuck in a dark, dampened room. Your only light coming from the candle at your bedside, the moon, and the flashes of lightening through the windows. The deep red drapes that match the ones that hang around the four poster bed in the middle of the room, that look ancient and eerie, set your already on edge nerves into a frenzy of fight of flight.

You had dusted this room many times. Have been past the threshold and seen it painted in the daylight.

But never at night.

You were prohibited from being here past nightfall.

The master of the house—your boss—had made it clear upon your first interview a year ago that you’d only be needed in the daytime. That staying after nightfall was not something he needed you around for, and it would be of best interest to the house if you departed once the sun set.

It’s a rule you questioned little. A rule you were fine and happy to obey.

It wasn’t your job to question it. It wasn’t your place.

You were the housekeeper, nothing else. Nothing less. Nothing more.

And you’d never think of going against the lord of the manor, Din Djarin.

The infamous inventor.

The mysterious scholar.

The man with whom you’ve slowly bloomed a friendship with while you’ve worked here. The two of you have spent hours in his library with your fingertips, running along old books, relics he’s come across in his travels, and blue prints for inventions he one day wishes to create.

The pair of you bonding over the love of old words and worlds you wish you could have been a part of.

Working for him and being in his home—the dark gray spiraling staircases, the arched doorways, the black and red wallpaper that look hundreds of years old and yet look like they’d just been done yesterday—was a joy.

A better job than working at the mill or getting by on your looks alone to put food on the table.

You lucked out. Was honored to get the position and even more honored to befriend the destinguishinly handsome Lord Djarin.

His staff soon became like a second family to you. A home away from home—a much more beautiful and sprawling home than your own, but a home in all senses of the word.

Not even the curfew could dampen your love or the job.

The only thorn in your side, the only downfall—negativity—to working for the Lord was his companion, his wife, Lady Kryze.

While most days, the two of you would rarely cross paths. Her off on travel, or in the west wing of the house that you seldom find yourself in.

But when appearance’s were known, brief or not, she always had a look of haughtiness about her. Her red hair laying perfectly on her shoulders, and her dresses always form fitting and beautifully cascading to the floor. The neck line plunged lower than what’s usually considered proper—that always made your cheeks heat when you found yourself rudely staring, a smirk on her lips that quickly got washed away with a scornful arch of her brows.

She had never been rude to you. Had never demanded of you or treated you unkindly the way one would think when you looked at her intimidatingly beautiful face. The power you know she held with just a look, a twitch of a smile, or the flick of her fingers.

She was the opposite of Lord Djarin.

The two seeming an odd match for two people destined to be together.

Your schoolgirl crush on the Lord of the Manor definitely having little to do with your opinion on the fact.

It had been Lady Kryze who had suggested you stay. Almost demanding it, with the weather outside being too dangerous to travel. The winds whistling through the old bones of the house. The rain coming down like heavy hail. The thunder that you could feel deep in your bones each time it rumbled.

Lord Djarin had protested on the matter. Said you could wait out the storm but insisted you leave after.

“Don’t be rude, honey.” Lady Kryze had said. The sentiment, honey, came off more as an insult than as something sweet and tender. The look on the Lord’s face one of strain and frustration. A warning flashed in his eyes before he gave you a tight lipped smile and nodded in agreement.

And now here you are. Dressed in a nightgown that Lady Kryze had supplied you with. The white fabric feeling almost like satin against your chilled skin, the lack of heat coming from the radiator on the other side of the room making you frown as your breasts made it more than clear how your body was reacting to the draft in the room—to the cold storm outside.

The loud thump that startles you from outside of your door tears your gaze from the window and elevates your unease when you put your ear to the dark wood and hear nothing but the old house talking in the way one does in storms or settling.

Lord Djarin had ordered you to stay in your room. To lock the door from the inside and try to get some rest. Assuring you that all was alright, the drafts liked to open the doors at night.

Listening to the plea in his voice that he tried to hide with his endearing smile was enough to convince you not to try it. To listen to his words. To do what had been asked of you without question once again.

But the thump comes again. This time, sounding closer. Perhaps a glass broke somewhere in the hall.

Your teeth chew at your bottom lip in worry.

What if the Lord or Lady needed help? What if they had fallen? The lack of electricity in the house was more than a factor, a reason, for something that could cause a fall. Candlelight only shows so much in these dark halls.

And while there had been no cry for help. No croak, groan, or indication that someone needs help; you can’t help the way your heart escalates or why you ignore the nerves, making your hand shake as you unlock the door, twist the cold handle, and open it a sliver.

Your eyes search the vast darkness of the hall within the tiny space you’ve given yourself. The lit candles in the holders on the wall do little to aid in you seeing anything other than small glows of orange light past the railing that lines the hall.

The words of the Lord push into the back of your mind as you open the door more and poke your head out into the dark space. The strings of lightening outside paint the empty hall in blue light. Streaking against the dark wallpaper hauntingly.

“Lord Djarin?” Your voice is faint compared to the booming thunder outside. A gulp of air fills your lungs when you get enough bravery to step fully out of your room and speak a little louder, “Lady Kryze?”

The silence only pushes you forward.

Has your bare feet cold and weary against the long rug on the hardwood floor. The floorboards creak with each step that you take.

The portraits of unknown people by unknown painters look more intimidating and scary the longer you venture through the hall. The candles shadow their faces in scowls that aren’t normally there in the daylight.

Your fingers dig into the side of your nightgown, bunching up the fabric as your heart hammers against your ribs.

Maybe you should go back to your room. Maybe it was nothing. The rooms with open doors were dark and abandoned. The staircases are bare, and the entryway below, when you look over the rail, is completely encased in darkness.

Maybe it had come from the west wing of the house. Maybe it was a branch outside. Your mind isn’t sure. Isn’t thinking about anything other than getting back to your room, engulfing yourself in the bedspread, and trying to ignore every creepy sound that the storm outside aids in the houses off putting nature.

Being here at night was, in fact, something your nerves could not handle, it seemed.

You sigh. Come to a stop at the last door along the hallway. Your bottom lip sore from your worrying. Whatever the thump was, it’s not something as drastic as your mind had probably come up with, and unless you feel like venturing down the stairs and through the rest of the house, it wasn’t your concern—and the prospect made you shiver knowing some parts of the house didn’t have candles lining the walls.

But when you turn to head back to your room, your body crashes into another, and the scream you let out rings along with a crack of thunder, filtering the hallway into a horrific sound of chaos and fear.

“You were told to stay in your room.”

“Oh my—" your hand flies to your chest. The beat of your heart feels as if it might beat it’s way out of the cavern of your ribs. Your lungs finally fill with the air that had been whooshed out of you when you had collided with the other person once you realized who it was. “Lady Kryze.”

“I was told you listen to directions well,” her smile is pressed and sure. Humorous in the way her eyes move along your appearance. The relief you felt from it being her soon dying when you remember how see through your nightgown is. Your arms cross over your bare chest. “How misguided.”

“I-I was just,” you swallow. Try to get your breathing back to normal. Try to stop the pounding in your ears matching up with the rain outside—with the booms of thunder. “I heard a noise.” You manage to get out. The amused raise of her brow makes your body heat up in something akin to embarrassment or a child running to their mother at night because they are scared.

Lady Kryze hums, “many things go bump in the night around here. It’s an old house.”

“Of course,” you nod. “Yes.” You laugh nervously, breathy, and unsure. Trying to ease the tension that’s growing between the two of you. Worried you might be jobless come morning. “I apologize. I was just worried that you or Lord Djarin may have been hurt.”

“You’re a doctor? Here I thought you were a maid.” Her smile is mocking, unkind. But that’s when you finally take her fully in. With the flashes of lightening through the window at the end of the hall, giving light to the shadows that dance along her face in the candlelight.

She looks…different.

There's a deep red tint to her lips that’s not usually there. You can’t recall the last time you saw her wear lipstick, let alone that shade. Her hair is darker and more unruly at the bottom than usual. Than the sleek look of perfection it’s always at. Her clothes—her dress—stained a deep red and ripped at the top, standing her paler than normal skin out.

Your eyes look down to her nails; they’re longer. Stained the same shade as her lips and her dress.

Somethings not right.

And when your gaze meets hers again, you can see how much darker her eyes look than what you’re used to seeing below that scowl. Bigger. Almost as if her pupils had doubled in size.

Your lack of subtlety seems to give you away when you quickly try to sidestep her and head for your room.

“Now that I know you’re both fine, I’ll just go back to my room now.” You say softly, give her a forced smile as you try to keep your composure and act as normal as you would if you weren’t scared out of your skin.

Lady Kryze laughs under her breath. Let’s you step past her and walk one, two, or five steps before there’s a grip at the back of your elbow and your back is being slammed into the wall. The gasp of your lungs deflates from the pressure puffing out against her face with how close she is.

“Lady Kr-”

“Bo.” She corrects, her eyes wandering down your face, pausing at your lips and the junction where your jaw meets your neck. Swallowing hard before her gaze cascades to your chest, “I always hated the pleasantries Din demanded we go by to fit in with you…humans.”

“You humans?” You give her a quizicall look, too much going on in your nervous system to comprehend her words. To make sense of them when the fear of the emotion in her eyes reads hunger.

And when she laughs again, her smile more genuine than any you’ve seen spread across her perfectly proportioned lips before; you see it. See them.

The pointed teeth that have replaced her normal ones.

The way they gleam off of the orange glow of the candles. The way they make you swallow. Make your chest hurt from the bruising your heart is doing to your ribs from beating so fast.

What is she?

“I thought you were smart? With the way Din talks about you, I imagined you would have figured it out by now. Especially with how close the two of you have been getting.” The accusation makes your heart stop. A cold fear pricking at your insides that makes your skin feel clammy.

The raising of her brow makes the feeling worse as you shake your head. Open your mouth to protest on the matter, to not encourage the accusation that there might be something going on with Lord Djarin and you, her husband.

“Don’t worry,” she smirks. Leans in closer so her lips are ghosting over the shell of your ear as she murmurs, “I like to share.” Your body trembles when her hand leaves your shoulder and her fingers run along the side of your breast. Her pointer skating along your erect nipple, making you gasp softly. “We both do.”

“Lady Kryze–I,” there’s words meant to come out. Words meant to put an end to whatever this standoff, or showdown, is. You’re lost, you’re captivated, and you’re frightened. But her cheeks and lips brush against yours as she moves herself back so she can look at you; her dark eyes make every syllable on your tongue lay thick and weighted down like sludge.

There’s a silence that has enough tension to make your body buzz and your brain catch up to put the puzzle pieces together with the information that has always been laid out for you. Things you took as old family traditions you didn’t care to understand.

The presistant curfew, the eerie darkness that hung over the manor once the sun started to set. The mysterious cases of maids and butlers going missing without a trace. The town just beyond your own’s population dwindling down. Neighbors and friends gone.

Lady Kryze’s dark eyes, her teeth.

“You’re the cause of all the disappearances.” It’s not a question because you already know the answer. The slow spread of her lips only solidified the gathered information in your head to fit neatly in a box of truths. “And,” you swallow, hate how your heart aches at the very thought. “Lord Djarin..he–”

“Is much more discrete than I.” She seems to find a silent annoyance in the statement. In the way your body lets out a shaky breath as if you’re relieved. It makes her eye twitch before she’s leaning in again, her lips closer to yours now. Her breath smells of metal. “He doesn’t like to indulge in the bounty we’ve been given. Says it’s not right to eat thy neighbor.” Her tongue runs across her bottom lip, one of her sharp teeth catching on the skin. “I say, why waste such delicious gifts? And delicious they are, especially the ones who beg. The ones who let me play with my food before I eat it.”

Her laugh makes your body shiver. A reaction she seems to like too much, as her lips skim across yours. The metallic scent of her tongue inhaled by your shaky breaths and swallowed down, leaving your throat dry and your tongue itching to reach out for the source.

The source of it’s weight, the source of the ache in your jaw with the need to drink. A thirst for what you’re sure is water and not the nourishment that’s so clearly painted Lady Kryze’s lips red and her tongue. Your body willing to use any source of fluid to aid you.

Not because the metallic linger of her breath sits on your tastebuds like an open invitation. Not because her fingers are still at the side of your breast, your peaked nipple aching to be brushed over by her again.

“Will you let me play with you?” Her nose brushes yours as her head turns, and her lips just catch the corner of your mouth, a gasp leaving your lips as they move across your cheek and her teeth clip on your jawline. “I know how hard it is for my husband to be near you every day and not sink his teeth into this beautiful neck. You look as good as you’ll taste.”

A moan racks your ribcage when her hand grips the side of your neck, bending it so the other side is on full display and her lips press to the sensitive flesh. Her tongue coming out to run the tip lightly against you, like she doesn’t dare indulge too much. Like it’s an appetizer to what she really wants.

A trail of bruising kisses and hungry noises coming from the woman making your chest heave, your fingers daring to come up to her elbow to grip the fabric of her dress as an anchor—or to pull her closer—you're not too sure what your body wants, your senses not matching up with the fear still plaguing your brain.

“Will you run for me, little rabbit?” You can feel the amusement at her own words with the smirk that’s pressed just below your ear. Your body canting at the derogatory pet name.

Until her next words come out of her mouth in a booming shriek that makes your ears ring and your body recoil from her in defense to protect itself from wrath.

“Run!”

And you do.

Not turning back to look to see if she’s chasing you. All the heat once again drained from your body, any pleasure you had been feeling doused out, and brought tears burning at the corners of your eyes.

The candles on the wall continue to be your guiding light. Even when you step on something that makes you hiss. That tears the skin on the bottom of your foot enough to stutter your sprint. A limp catches in your leg as you try to make haste.

You were foolish for staying here. Foolish for leaving your room. Foolish for not seeing what this house really was or what it’s occupants really were.

Foolish.

If there had been a spell, you had fallen for it. Like a silly little girl.

The closer you get to your chamber door, the harder your heart beats against your ribs. The harder you try to ignore the sting in your heel. The harder it is for you to breathe.

The distance only seems to get further and further away from safety the longer you try for it. The longer your eyes strain in the candlelight to not step on something else that could make you completely imobile. Completely at Lady Kryze’s mercy.

Who you don’t hear behind you.

Who—upon your better judgment, one would say—you look for as you turn your head towards the path behind you. Your blood running cold when you see that all the candles have completely gone out and you can’t see a thing.

The flashes of lightening from the windows down below cascading the barest amount of light onto the floor.

It’s the least of your worries when your body collides with a wall.

Or what feels like a wall—a strained ache coming to your chest upon the collusion, your body thrown backwards as you groan from the impact your tailbone makes against the hard floor.

And when your eyes open, you realize it’s not a wall you’ve collided with; it’s Lord Djarin.

“I told you to stay in your room.” His voice is full of authority and aggravation as he pulls you from the floor. It’s a tone he’s never used on you, a grip on your arm that’s much more cruel than the light touches of fleeting moments spent together.

“She–Lady Kryze–She.”

“Is insatiable, yes.” There’s a growl that’s completely for his wife’s sake and not your own. But the sound still makes your stomach clench. Your body dragged along the hallway by the hands of the man you’re now realizing is more dangerous than any normal man.

A monster.

Like his wife.

And yet, you feel safe in his tight grasp. Feel safe with the memories you share with him. Of him. The man you knew before the monster.

The fear of him never coming.

The fear only comes back once you’ve reached your room, and he’s pushing you through the door only for your back to collide with something icy that grips your wrist and snakes it’s fingers along the column of your neck to hold you against it.

“Bo.” Lord Djarin’s voice is stern. Angry.

“Darling.” You can feel the smile that’s wrapped around the word even without seeing Lady Kryze’s face.

The cold of her body seeping through your night dress and against your skin—a cold that’s not from the fear of what she is rather than what she’s doing. What has stained her lips and tongue and what you wanted so badly to taste just minutes ago. The same deep red clearly stained in the front fabric of your gown that you hadn’t noticed until now.

Until you’re standing in front of Lord Djarin, your night dress more see through and clinging to your body, where it’s damp from blood and straining against your breasts.

Lady Kryze’s grip tightens on your throat, and it makes a breathless noise fall from your lips. A noise that has Lord Djarin’s eyes honing in on your mouth, moving along to his wife's hand on your throat, before plunging down to your chest. A hard swallow and a deep scowl shot at the woman holding you in her vise.

“Let her go.”

“We were just having a little fun. Weren’t we?” Her teeth knick your earlobe, and it makes your body contort against her hold. “See,” she smirks.

“Bo. No.” His tone has finality. Has something that wordlessly lets you know he’s tired of this topic; he’s clearly told her no on before.

Something inside your stomach lightens up and burns at the thought of Lord Djarin denying his wife the pleasure of making you a meal time and time again. Was it out of respect? Care? Want?

Did she want to sink her teeth into you so badly because of jealousy at the closeness you and her husband had found the longer you worked here? No, she said they like to share. Said she likes to share.

Was it want then?

The want to do more than end your life by draining you.

“Come on, Din.” The hand at your wrist does a show of crawling with her sharp nails over your midsection and to your hip to start pulling up your night dress. Your thighs quickly come into view as she bunches the fabric further and further up. A shyness takes over you as you wiggle in her grasp as you watch Lord Djarin’s eyes follow the movement with a hungry look. “We all know you want her.”

Her lips press against your jaw as she murmurs to you, “he never allows himself to indulge in the things he wants. He’s so disciplined. Such a good man. He’d never let it slip that after you leave his library, he bends me over his desk and fucks me the way he wishes he could fuck you.”

An involentary noise that get’s choked out of your throat makes her laugh softly, “tell him he can have you. Tell him you like it.” Your eyes lock with his; his eyes just as dark and monstrous as his wife's now that you’re really looking at them. His lips that deep red—the same red you smelled and craved to taste on her lips.

Your thighs inwardly press together, causing the pressure between them to ease the slightest, but grow worse when your backside pushes back against Lady Kryze and she lets out a noise that sounds just as lovely as she looks.

“Look, Din.” A heat comes to your cheeks as the rest of the fabric of your gown is pulled above your hips, showcasing your nakedness to both of them. “There’s no denying she wants you,” her fingers move down to grip your inner thigh. The clear and evident proof of your arousal—that you’re not sure was caused earlier or right now—coats your skin and her fingers.

“No, she is not-”

“What? Food?” Lady Kryze laughs, “we both know you’d never let me drain her. Nor could you bear to have anything but her essence touch your tongue. But she can be a toy. You can fuck her. We both can.”

You can see the internal battle he’s fighting with himself—against his wife, against what’s right, against his want.

And there’s a part of you that understands. That knows this is wrong. That has barely come to terms with what they are—monsters, myths, and scary stories you tell little children at night to get them to go to bed.

But then the proof of your arousal, of your own want is being toyed with between your thighs as Lady Kryze runs a finger through your wetness. Your hips canting against her hand as she pulls it away just as quick as it was there and holds her finger out to her husband.

“Taste her.”

His head is about to shake; you can sense it. See it before it happens by the way his fists bunch at his sides. Maybe that's why you finally find your voice, “please.”

And it’s as if those are the words he’s been waiting for you to say since the day you’ve met. Since you’ve started working for him. The speed at which he’s against your front and his lips are wrapped around the finger that has gathered the wetness from your pussy makes you feel woozy.

Makes you sway on your feet and loosen in Lady Kryze’s hold. Her nails dig into your flesh as she holds you tighter, keeping you upright for her husband.

Whose finger is under your chin, mouth daringly close to yours as he murmurs, “are you certain?”

Do you want this?

Do you want all it entails if you let this continue?

His dark eyes speak; let you know that he’ll stop this. That while you might be weak in comparison to who they truly are, you have a say, and he’ll do whatever you wish.

A wise woman would heed the warning that’s in the brow he raises. Thats in the descent of his finger down your chin and to your jugular. Your heartbeat thudding against the pad of his finger. His tongue comes out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes cast to your neck and then up to his wife.

Who's giving him a smile you can’t see but can feel in the way her body shifts, pulling your thighs apart easily. Lord Djarin needs no more confirmation for either of you as he falls to his knees, a rough hand cupping the back of your thigh to lift and bring it up and over his shoulder.

Your back arching, and a gasp rakes through your body when you feel the bite of teeth against your inner thigh. Feel the sting of punctured skin, the pull of something inside that’s making your eyes flutter, and the pressure in your lower belly thumping at the same speed as your heart.

When your eyes shift down, when he’s stopped, when you feel like you could either pass out or come from just this, you see blood—your blood—staining his lips and tongue. See his eyes go even darker, black, and void of any human attributes. Making him look entirely like a monster that’s hungry, starved.

And you’ve completely offered yourself up for the taking.

There’s a deep moan coming from Lord Djarin as his fingers and tongue clean his mouth. It’s obscene as much as it is beautiful to watch. Your arousal only grows worse at the sight.

“How does she taste?”

“Exqusite.” He murmurs against your skin, his tongue running over the marks he’s just left in your thigh, working it’s way up to the apex of your thigh. Your legs shake the closer he gets to your pussy.

A cry burns your lungs when you feel him dive into you without any warning. His tongue licking through your wetness, his nose pressing against your clit. The tip of it creates a slow grind that only intensifies when you cant your hips up. When you thrust against the air, his tongue slips inside of you, pushing it further inside. Your fingers dig into the sides of your dress as you try not to completely collapse against either of them.

The pleasure coursing through your body makes that easier said than done.

Lady Kryze is humming against your cheek, her hand coming down to slow the movement of your hips. “Take your time, little rabbit.” She trails kisses and soft bites over and under your jaw to your earlobe, where she lets the tip of her tongue run against it. “Because once you’ve come, you’re mine to play with.”

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