#servant and master

[meraki24601]

hii i found ur blog the other day and im kinda obsessed with it now. i was wondering if u could write something with a gothic victorian vibe?? between a servant and their master, where something bad happens to the servant (sickness, exhaustion, etc) and now the master has to take care of them. love ur writing :))

Welcome, friend! I'm glad you're here. I'm not very good at gothic Victorian vibes, but I hope this is close enough! My first thought was of a large manor with one of those giant garden mazes in the back and a party. Enjoy!

Falling Ill

-----------*-***-*-----------

Servant wasn’t allowed to be sick. Half of the servants had already taken ill, and most of those still well were busy caring for the sick. Even Servant’s father, the Butler since before Master’s father’s father passed on, was trapped in his bed. It was up to Servant to take control as they had been taught. They wouldn’t let the Master down. 

It was possibly the worst time for the house to fall ill. In only three days, the Master was scheduled to host a crucial party. This would be their chance to establish their role as head of the fastest-growing company in the country. Many important people would attend, and for Masters house to be in such disarray would be a disgrace. 

In other words, Servant didn’t have time for the cough settling deep in their chest. 

They attended a meeting with the Master shortly after the Master had eaten their breakfast. The original plan had been to narrow down the list of essential tasks before the event as the Master ate, but the smell of the rich bacon and eggs made Servant’s stomach churn. The Master had assumed the extra time was needed to care for Servant’s father and agreed, and Servant didn’t correct them. 

“Don’t misunderstand me, Servant. I don’t enjoy your father being sick, but I’m glad you’re beside me for this.” Master whispered. “When your father served mine, it wasn’t him but you who stayed with me. I’m grateful for your loyalty and understanding of how I want things done.”

It was a lot of pressure, but that was alright. By the time supper rolled around, Servant’s stomach had settled enough for a small meal. They and the rest of the staff had also completed more than half of the list of tasks. 

The next day, nearly half of the remaining servants were bedridden. A few of the first to become ill were beginning to recover but would not be well in time to assist with the remaining preparations. However, those who could stand and move were able to care for the others, keeping Servant from losing any more hands. 

Servant found they couldn’t keep their own hands from shaking as they attempted to write down a few last-minute additions and changes the Master gave them. Their head drooped, and they kept their eyes down to avoid allowing the Master to see the bags under their eyes from the largely sleepless night. 

“Servant?” Master asked as Servant nearly dropped their pen. “You’re not ill, are you? I don’t think I can do this without you.”

“Of course not, Master. I will see you through this event to the end. It will be a party like no one has ever seen.”

And Servant kept their word. They were careful to keep the sickness contained within the servants’ quarters. The list of tasks was completed with time to spare, and, as the gardeners were all bedridden, Servant themselves trimmed the hedges in the garden. The maze of tall plants and decorative fountains was to be the highlight of the event.

Holding tall, Servant ignored the weight of their arm as they guided the others to their next tasks. They lifted their feet high while walking the arriving guests through the manor so they wouldn’t drag across the clean carpet. Gloves kept the uncomfortable sweat on their hands from bothering the guests, but they still found themselves pulling their suit jacket tighter around them against the chill.

In all, Servant was miserable. The party, however, was splendid. They could see the smile on the Master’s face each time they made eye contact across the room. As the Master looked a little too long, and their smile turned to something that imitated concern, Servant would look away. Their Master didn’t have time to be distracted.

Eventually, the guests began to leave. Each sang the Master’s praises as they walked through the door and requested Servant communicate their interest in setting up meetings to continue working with the Master. They took their sweet time, not caring that despite the sun’s steady march toward the horizon, Servant still had work to do. 

Though this party had not been particularly rowdy, Servant had to hold back a groan at the trash and decor that needed to be cleaned before the night was over. 

Once again, Servant found themselves out in the garden. Though the hot summer sun was setting, the warmth was finally enough to begin to breach the chill that felt like it had sunken its claws into Servant’s bones. At least, it was warm as long as they kept their slightly damp jacket on. 

Servant’s head throbbed as they bent over to retrieve a fallen napkin from the center garden. It was amusing how weak they had become. They would have laughed if they’d had enough air to do so. Most of the mess in the large maze was not worth worrying about for the moment. It could wait till tomorrow when Servant had recovered more of their strength. So, they gathered the bag they had been working with and began to make their way back. 

They walked. And they walked. They walked toward the exit of the maze until the sun had dropped below the horizon, leaving the maze in shadow. The lights in the garden had all been put out when the last of the guests left, but Servant could still see the manor lights shining over the top of the tall hedges. They would be there soon. They had to keep walking.

“Servant!” The Master was running toward them.

“Master.” Servant stumbled slightly as they bowed their head. “I was on my way back inside. I fear I could not finish the cleaning in the garden today, but I will see it taken care of first thing tomorrow morning.” They had to stifle a cough at the end but felt a sort of pride they could explain themselves despite finding it challenging to take in enough air to support their words.

Master sighed as they stepped closer to Servant. Their gaze was a little too intense for comfort. “Forget about the cleaning. I’ll help myself tomorrow. The rest of the staff have been ordered to rest. We couldn’t find you.”

“My apologies, Master. I should have been there to communicate your wishes for you. I was in the central garden.”

“I sent someone to look in the central garden nearly an hour ago. You weren’t there.” Master took Servant’s hands and slowly removed their gloves. “You’re still wearing this heavy jacket. Why?”

Servant took a step back. “I’m sorry, Master. I did not lie. I was only just in the central garden. There was a slight breeze there that kept me cool. I didn’t notice the heat.”

A hand wrapped around the back of Servant’s head, pulling them ever so close to the Master. The back of Master’s free hand pressed against Servant’s forehead as their lips turned down in a frown. “Servant. Can you tell me where you are right now?”

The Master’s hand was cool against Servant’s forehead. They found themselves having to resist the urge to press against it. “Of course, Master. I’m in the garden maze.”

“You’re in the far east corner of the maze. About as far from the entrance as you can be.” The Master’s foot nudged the bag Servant had been carrying. “Can you pick this up?”

Servant’s legs shook, and their head swam as they bent to follow their Master’s request. They felt hands pressing them against something warm. “If you had told me you were sick, I could have taken care of you sooner.”

The green leaves of the garden blurred together. At some point, they were sure they heard voices. All they could understand was their Master’s hushed voice sighing, “It’s alright. I’ve got them now.”

Oh. Their Master was carrying them.

The world slowed somewhat as the Master entered through the lounge door. It would be a long walk back to the servants’ quarters, but hopefully, their stomach would settle when they were back on their feet. If only their Master would set them down.

“Please, Master. Set me down. I can make it to my room on my own. Thank you for your help, but I would rather the others—”

“You won’t be going to your quarters tonight. From what I’ve learned in the past hour, the others seem to respect you as well. They knew you were sick, yet you did your best to protect them from the illness and ease their workloads.” Master set Servant down on soft sheets they immediately recognized. They were in their Master’s room. “The others seem to be on the mend, though your sickness is only just reaching its worst. Rather than risk spreading the illness through the servants again, I believe it would be best for you to stay here with me. This way, I can take care of you.”

Despite Servant’s concern, they found themselves drifting off. The cool icepacks they couldn’t remember being placed around them felt almost as nice as the hand brushing through their hair. 

[archer-vale]

He can feel your gaze. You can't look away...and he knows it. Don't fight it. Do what feels right. Accept him into your life.

[sapphicdalliances]

there are so many people who keep @-ing me lately who are obsessed with the idea of WWX being this underprivileged victim who suffered unfairly at every turn…

no, he wasn't a "scholarship kid" in contrast to JC being a trust fund kid, his family paid for him to go to college exactly the same as his brother, where he had the confidence to behave with absolutely no regard for consequences; before the war he carried a platinum credit card with JFM's name on it and he had job security from like age 10 as JC's future head of R&D

no, he was never treated as a servant, he was the HEAD DISCIPLE of a top 5 sect and afforded much of the privilege and respect that came with that. after the war he was JC's right hand, being second in the sect only to the sect leader. even in the burial mounds he never did a single chore and in fact got lightly scolded for creating more chores

he wasn't hated by the cultivation world because he was an uppity servant trying to climb beyond his class and making the gentry look bad through his own integrity and righteousness, he was hated because he was extremely powerful and super scary and violated a ton of social taboos and behaved erratically in public and seemed beholden to nobody

like girl… you're thinking of Meng Yao!

[sunderwight]

I absolutely get where people are coming from with Dom Mobei Jun in fics and it's often extremely good, but there is just so so much potential with Dom Shang Qinghua and Sub Mobei Jun.

I just really think they would be into the switch in their public-facing relationship dynamics for bedroom activities. The games they could play! Clever "lowly" servant Shang Qinghua pretending he's blackmailing or tricking Mobei Jun into servicing him for revenge, gloating about how he's got his king just where he wants him, getting to really cut loose on the degradation dirty talk (venting for all those years of holding back any kind of criticism out of fear for his life) while Mobei Jun gets some traditional demon courtship fixes out of the process, and also enjoys the opportunity to just completely turn off his brain and his vigilance around someone who he 100% trusts not to abuse the privilege.

Heck, their relationship didn't actually gain ground on physical intimacy until Shang Qinghua started finally cracking and losing his temper and demanding Mobei Jun respect him (and... call him 'daddy', of course...), and when Mobei Jun finally gets Shang Qinghua to tell him how to court him he's like "finally" and makes him the world's worst noodles about it. He's glad that Shang Qinghua is telling him what to do in order to please him! He wants that.

In conclusion, Mobei Jun would absolutely enjoy being bossed around and I think Shang Qinghua would equally enjoy ordering him to do various bedroom activities, in the most unrefined terms available, and being immediately served & obeyed.

[thedaylighteffect]

Prince x M! Servant

Content Warnings: Non-con, master kink, jealousy, victim blaming, degrading.

A/N: It's been a while since I've written something. Everything is under the cut. I'll write more soon.

Not proofread.

"What's so good about him, huh? That he can satisfy you better than me, your master?" the prince growled in your ear, one hand painted bruises on your waist while the other wrapped around your cock. The uniform pants you diligently kept tidy were bunched at your ankles, long discarded and forgotten. He pushed you up against the wall, his knee between your spread legs. Climax after climax, your legs have long since gone numb and your vision was mudded with tears as you struggled out a reply. All you could feel was the tight spasming in your core and the feeling of pins and needles on your skin.

"It was a misunderstanding," you wanted to say, but your tongue refused to move, paralyzed by the pleasure; all you could do was shake your head. You tried to tell him how it wasn't your fault that the prince from the faraway land seduced you and ended up with you under him on his bed. You tried to tell him about the eyes of the visiting prince that defiled you as it roamed along your body.

But you couldn't.

The prince's sharp eyes stared into you and left no attempt to mask his contempt. His grip tightened around your cock, eliciting a tired whine from your lips.

"I asked you a question, so answer it," the prince ordered once more, speeding up the pumps of his hand and digging his fingernails into your waist.

That was it.

Your legs trembled as you felt your abdomen clench when you neared the climax, "Master, I...I'm sorry! It was my fault!" you choked out, your words selected to appease the prince. Your brain was too jumbled to distinguish your true desires. Your lungs burned for air as you recovered from your high. Your hands were propped against the gold-leafed walls of the prince's bedroom. Your fingernails were digging into the material.

You felt your climax drip along your leg as your breathing returned.

The prince gritted his teeth, "Is that so?" he asked.

You nodded.

His grip on you disappeared and you slumped to the ground, no longer supported by his arms.

"Get going now," he says. You can hear his footsteps fade towards the door.

"You've got work to do."

[roostercrowned]

I don't think anyone's done this yet? apologies if so I've been doing a deep dive on Italian renaissance men's fashion for Lord Golden and GOOD NEWS, it is all incredibly slutty \o/

[semisolidmind]

what a strange family portrait

ive been thinking about your eternal servants au, @emelinstriker , and how much worse it’d be for my poor reader if she had not just two, but five (six?) immortals at her (un-asked for) beck and call

(lil guy mk has my whole heart, he’s just happy to be here)

[mxtxfanatic]

There are a few places in mdzs where, in the midst of Wei Wuxian trying to placate him, Jiang Cheng says something so terribly, egregiously misrepresentative of Wei Wuxian and his morals that all Wei Wuxian can do is stare at him—like an adult realizing for the first time that the tantruming child they are attempting to calm may just be spoiled—before deciding to give up on the conversation. “Sure, Jiang Cheng,” he says, “it’s whatever you feel. It’s whatever you want.”

People like to say that the problem with the Yunmeng friendship is simply communication issues, but I think the real problem is that when true conflict happens between them, they both realize that they truly do not like each other. The difference is that Jiang Cheng reacts to this realization by trying to force Wei Wuxian into the shape that he wants, which is submission—“Do as I say! Listen to me! Obey me!”—while Wei Wuxian stands at the other end of the torched bridge he plans to never cross again and goes, “Sure Jiang Cheng, it’s whatever you feel, it’s whatever you want.”

[ecoterrorist-katara]

“It’s gross if Katara marries Zuko since he’s her colonizer” she overthrew the last Fire Lord to put Zuko on the throne. If anything the Fire Nation would be worried that he’s Katara’s puppet

[cicenice]

rly enjoyed making this one

[21st-century-boys]

Master and servant

[butchjolyne]

day 6 au for @saberiri-week

[roman-ai]

[nextstopparis]

why didnt morgana ever kidnap arthur

[origami-trust]

Dracula, dashing into his castle and ripping off the fake beard: And anyway, that was my OC, 'Coach Driver,' a faithful servant who would do anything his master wished of him, and who desires nothing more than to faithfully serve. Dracula: Not to bludgeon the moral point, but can one of you please answer the door while I change so the solicitor doesn't wander away into the forest and also so I don't have to carry his bags myself, which might be strange to him. Brides: no Dracula: ....All right.

[gabbyp09]

Fate/Strange Fake Ep1 The Heroic Spirit Incident