#the kind of lady who would be in bloodplay as well

[dcndrolust]

Columbina is most definitely dominant and possessive in bed, 100% would not let you top her, lest she really trust you, beside, she like taking over, be a huge tease about it.

[beautiful-and-terrible]

your lips were soft, like winter.

Ship: Penelope Featherington x Colin Bridgerton

Tropes: Vampire!Penelope, Bloodplay, Angst, Slow burn, Friends-to-Lovers

Rating: Explicit (for future NSFW scenes and violence)

Warnings: Blood, lying, angst. No major character death.

——

Penelope Featherington is not a liar by nature.

In fact, the majority of the time, she takes pride in being as candid and honest as she can with the people she cares about in her life. It is one of the few things she likes about herself.

However, there are two things she cannot ever possibly tell anyone. The first thing would ruin her place in society forever, irreparably damage her friendships, and possibly cause the man she has loved since she was fifteen to never look her in the eye again.

The other thing would probably have her burned at the stake.

You see, Penelope Featherington derived a great amount of pleasure in collecting secrets. As someone who spent the majority of her life clinging to the walls at parties, trying not to be noticed but desperately wanting to be, she was very good at listening in on people's conversations. The people of the ton were not the most discreet sort, and rarely kept their voices down, even when talking about delicate topics.

So when she started publishing the Lady Whistledown papers, and people started to notice, it sparked something in her. A bone-deep, aching, ravenous thing that caused her to flush with pleasure whenever she was out in public, her parasol carefully covering her porcelain skin, and passed by someone reading her society paper.

She discovered that she liked being talked about, she liked being admired, and not just for her looks (compliments for which were few and far between, with the dreadful colors her mother dressed her in), but for her brain. People wanted to hear what she had to say, and would flock for her written words, in fact. The Queen herself even launched a full-on investigation to find out who Lady Whistledown was, even though her endeavors were ultimately unsuccessful. It was a decidedly heady feeling, being the center of attention, even if no one knew it was Penelope at the heart of all the excitement.

To say Penelope had no secrets of her own would be a blatant untruth. However, being Lady Whistledown and no one knowing about it was the least interesting secret that haunted Penelope Featherington.

Because you see, people reading her gossip column was not the only thing that caused a bone-deep, aching, ravenous hunger within her.

—

It happened the winter after Penelope turned sixteen.

Her maid had accompanied her to the ‘ton public library, despite Penelope’s insistence that she could go by herself. It was only a couple of blocks walk, but her maid, Rae, and her mother, insisted. With a barely concealed huff, Penelope acquiesced, but insisted on walking.

She bundled herself in her least offensive cloak, a magenta wool trimmed with satin, and stuffed her hands into a rabbit-fur muff. Rae dressed similarly, but looked decidedly less excited to be venturing out into the rapidly descending darkness of a November afternoon.

They walked to the library without incident, and Penelope had a splendid time browsing the fiction and novels and selecting a few titles to take home with her. Her library punch card was well used, and it was almost time for another, but she decided to wait for her next visit to request a new one. Her maid kept herself occupied by flirting with the librarians at the front desk, twirling a lock of her brown hair around her finger.

Penelope bit her lip, keeping her laughter to herself. Rae was quite kind to her, and always tried to help Penelope as much as she could. Anyone living in the Featherington house could tell Lady Featherington was… a handful, to say the least. Rae could tell that Penelope took the brunt of her mother’s forceful demeanor, and tried to soften the blow as much as she could by fulfilling most of Penelope’s whims, even the more fanciful ones. So Penelope did not interrupt her flirting, even though she found it amusing.

After an hour of perusing the poetry section, Penelope brought her books up to the desk to check them out. She waved down Rae, who said goodbye to the cute librarian with a wiggle of her gloved fingers, and the two of them set out into the now inky blackness of the evening.

“Rae, would you mind going ahead and letting me walk by myself?”

“Miss Featherington, that would be incredibly irresponsible of me! Not to mention unseemly…” Rae said, pulling her cloak tighter around her.

“I know, I know, just this once, please? I just want to be alone with my thoughts, and feel like an independent, like a grown up, just once.” Penelope brought out her best puppy dog eyes, which Rae was always defenseless against.

“Fine, but I’m staying within hearing distance. No more than twenty yards, understood?”

Penelope nodded, blowing Rae a kiss. Rae sighed wearily, beginning to cross the street while Penelope waited until she was a good distance ahead to start after her.

Penelope knew it was dangerous to be walking alone at night, without a chaperone. Even though she was not yet out in society, it didn’t mean there weren’t vile, nasty men who had no qualms about taking advantage of an underage girl.

Still, Penelope craved solitude. In a house that did not understand the word “boundaries”, it was often that Penelope was left feeling violated and overstimulated. She felt as though she was being looked at under a microscope, even though in society she was barely spared a glance. This was due to the fact that she wasn’t yet out, and so was not yet of marrying age, but also because she had yet to lose her baby fat, and was not what anyone, least of all her mother, would call a blooming beauty.

So, whenever she could, Penelope sought solitude. She craved being alone with her thoughts, away from the constant judgment and chatter of others. And it wasn’t that she minded Rae’s company, quite the opposite, but the allure of walking home alone on a snowy November evening was too romantic and enticing to ignore.

Penelope looked up into the smoky-purple of the snow-filled sky, sighing dreamily. This was her favorite kind of weather. The snow absorbed all sound, so even the crunch of her boots in the white powder beneath her were muffled in the air around her. She liked the sensation of the cool flakes landing on her face, melting almost instantly.

This was why when, looking back on the memory years in the future, Penelope realized she did not hear the sound of footsteps in the snow behind her.

It was not until she was being dragged into an alley with a hand covering her mouth that Penelope realized with piercing, crystalline clarity that she was a fool, the biggest of fools, and that she was about to be killed, or worse.

The hand covering her mouth was adorned with silver gloves that shone like mercury. Penelope had never seen a material like them in her life, nor would she ever again. Details of this particular moment were always hazy, looking back, but Penelope remembered those gloves. She remembered his shiny silver buttons, and his shiny silver eyes. Like two-pence, hard and flinty.

His shiny, blinding teeth.

The blinding, opalescent pain of his shiny teeth puncturing the side of her neck. She tried to cry out, to kick, to scream, to punch, to do anything. But the man did not budge, did not even seem to acknowledge her presence other than to suck harder at the two divots he had made in the flesh of her neck.

Penelope’s vision began to grow dark at the edges.

Then she was on the ground, the snow seeping into her dress. She was already shivering, and the loss of blood was not helping. The ground below her was dotted with drops of garnet red blood. Penelope felt dizzy, and she leaned back against the brick of the alley way, waiting for the sensation to pass. It had to pass.

If she didn’t get home soon, her mother would never let her outside again.

She grabbed some of the snow and brought it to her face, hoping to shock herself out of the bloodless stupor she had found herself in.

Evidently, some of the snow she had thrown on her face had traces of her blood in it, which made its way into her mouth.

She swallowed thickly.

Slowly, she stood and began making her way home.

Her mother and Rae both chewed her out something awful when she walked in the door, but luckily did not notice the oxidized brown mess on her neck, covered by her hair and her bright magenta cloak.

After the tongue lashing, her mother sent her straight to her room, where Penelope had never been so happy to be. She collapsed on the rug in front of her fireplace, desperately trying to get warm, and sobbed her heart out.

Or what was left of it, anyway.

[pnthra]

good morning! it's time for

✨ sunday fun facts ✨

starting with...

astraeus:

the definition of a manwhore. he loves to show skin, and loves the attention it gets him--and the results.

switch, doesn't mind being top or bottom. usually he attracts guys with a complex about dominance, so he bottoms more often than not. with the ladies he's perfectly down for the strap.

high stamina, can go for hours.

gets attached very easily. it's all just sex until his abandonment complex activates and suddenly he's thinking about marriage after a one night stand.

he has had a couple of one night stands transform into relationships... which ended swiftly upon his father, phorus, finding out.

likes it rough. he likes to bite and be bitten, loves bloodplay, and is generally nasty. he has definitely fooled around in the bdsm scene--and got kicked out for being too rough.

aftercare is a toss-up. it's possible he'll just dip.

aphelion:

100% demisexual. he requires some level of romantic and emotional intimacy with a person.

he has tried to sleep around without any kind of connections and it is almost like pulling teeth. he doesn't care for the feeling of being used or using another.

switch, but usually bottoms.

his homosexuality is something he figured out later on in life, but keeps a secret from his father. in reality, phorus wouldn't care--but he would still expect him to continue the family line in some shape or form.

he doesn't mind sex that is a little bit rougher, but appreciates taking it slow and demonstrating his fondness.

sex for aphelion is a means of showing his care in another form.

aftercare with aphelion is 10/10. he'll make you food and make sure you're taken care of.

phorus:

back in the day, he would have given aster a run for his money. his hollow, loveless arranged marriage came with an agreement between the two that they could fool around with whoever they wanted so long as protection was used.

now, he has high standards, and doesn't take just anyone to bed. there is usually some power imbalance favoring his side.

tops 90% of the time, preferring dominance and control. if he has some level of trust and comfort with someone else, he'll bottom.

he usually seeks out partners who are more submissive, and generally goes for men. eos, his wife, has her own practical harem, but does not like it when phorus finds other women. he generally is fine with this as he also wants to minimize the risk of getting someone pregnant who is not her.

deep, deep down, he craves emotional intimacy that he doesn't get from eos. you'll have to pull nails and teeth to get this out of him.

he's generally a 5/10 on aftercare, with a rare 8/10. due to sex being a tool of relief, he doesn't think too much about caring for his partners. he does not expect them to extend any sort of care towards him, either.

if he likes you, he'll still be a complete tsundere about it, but will show more care in his actions. if he doesn't give a shit, well, it'll be pretty obvious.

[nightowlfandom]

Fortune Teller! Park Jimin - I Wanna Take You Down My Path

So huge credit to @smallestplanets on Twitter for the inspiration behind this imagine. To my knowledge the requesting person got permission from the artist for me to use this as inspiration. Let me emphasize that I take no credit for this art or the idea of  a fortune teller alternate universe. If the owner of the artwork would like me to take the picture off this post then I will. That being said you should go support them because their art is top tier!

Credit for this ask goes to @youmaiiwasherebeforeu​

hallo! can u please make a oneshot w explicit smut and fluffo of dis fortune teller jimin and oc?? like timid and quiet oc w this DOMINATING man. if ur not ok w this than it's ok. I asked the artist who created this masterpiece permission to ask for a oneshot using their piece. if u do make this, please include this ask in the post as well. @smallestplanets requested this.

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE

Disclaimer- Nasty Time with a dude you just met....hehe VERY SLIGHT Bloodplay

Okay so I didn’t do that much smut...sorrryy! If you want I can rewrite it! Or something else you might want!

LEGGO

.....

There was nothing like the Summer Festival that rolled around every year. It was like the citizens set aside their differences and just have fun. Everyone was so happy. You just adored the smell of fresh flowers showering from up above. People wore all sorts of fun colorful costumes that lit up the festivities even more.

“Y/N! You’ve got to see this!” one of your friends called you over to a street performer. A singer with a guitar, wearing a large sparkling purple top hat with a matching blazer. You joined the crowd in hearing the man sing. You were so lost in the music that you didn’t notice the man standing right across from you in the little circle the crowd had made around the performer.

You had found it in yourself to look up. He was looking right at you, so your eyes met almost instantly. You held back a slight gasp. This man was dressed in a crisp dark grey jacket with an ivory colored shirt underneath. His hair had looked like he had just rolled out of bed and the wind wasn’t helping either. 

“Hey Y/N! we’re gonna go on the rides! We’ll catch up!”

You didn’t even process your friends parting ways with you. You felt like he was trying to study you. You would have stared longer had somebody not completely rammed into you, sending you straight to the floor. 

“Owww” You whined.

“Allow me.” a soft spoken voice cut through the air.  The same man from before was standing above you, his pale hand outstretched towards you. “That looked painful.”

“Thank you.” you didn’t think twice before lacing his fingers within yours. You stood to your feet.

“First time?”

“Excuse you?” you were a bit taken aback. “W-what did you just say?” you raised an eyebrow. 

“At the festival.” he clarified, a slight smile teasing the corners of his mouth.

“Oh...No. I come here every year.” you replied, suddenly feeling very silly. “I’ve never seen you here before.” you tried to make conversation. “I mean, is this your first time here?”

“I like to be in the background.” he shrugged. “I’m surprised you haven’t stumbled across my booth.”

“Booth?” you repeated. Maybe it was because you always hung in the back, but you’d remember someone looking like him around.

“Yes.” he nodded, that teasing smile still gracing his face. “Interested?”

Something in you trusted him, even though you had just met him. He seemed welcoming, inviting even. “Hm, what’s the matter? Scared.”

“No.” you scoffed, laughing a little. “It’s just I don’t know your name.”

“Right, I just didn’t expect to get this far.” he shoved his hands in his pocket. “Guess I didn’t see that one coming.”

The way he said ‘that one’ made you curious.

“I’m Y/N.” you smiled. 

“Jimin.” he replied. “Feel like taking a chance on the future?” He removed his right hand from his pocket and held it out to you, waiting. 

“Fortune teller?” you guessed.

“I like to think of it as...a guardian that leads people on the right path. I wanna take you down my path.” he winked. 

Call it adventurous, call it crazy...but you wanted to know more. So you grabbed his hand. “You knew I’d do that didn’t you?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“No...but I was hoping.” he winked. Jimin began leading you to a tent looking room with black curtains. “Take a seat.” he let go you you, leaving your fingers cold. There was a table with two chairs on either side. There was a deck of cards, three white candles, a strange looking blade, all sitting on a red velvety tablecloth. You sat in the chair closest to the entrance of the curtain. 

Jimin sat across from you, his aura now completely different. He seemed focused, intent on breaking down your barriers to see through you. Your eyes darted down to the strange knife, which was about to slide off the table.

“Hey, be carefu- OUCH!” You tried to grab the handle, only to have it slide off the table and nick you in the process. Your index finger was bleeding. The wound wasn’t deep enough to require medical attention, but it hurt like hell. 

“I knew that’d happen.” Jimin’s voice didn’t waver nor change. 

“Shit. I’m such a klutz.” you complained. “Sorry about that-”

“No worries. Give me your hand, I’ll help you out.”

Without thinking, you held your hand out. You though that maybe he had a napkin on him or something. You were taken aback to see Jimin raising your hand to his mouth.

“What are you-”

His tongue darted out and slid down your finger, You could feel his wet tongue slither around your finger. You could see the red collecting on the tip on his tongue.

It took a minute to snap out of it. but your hand back.

“I don’t know what you problem is bu-”

Before you could finish your statement you saw something flash before you eyes.

You were laid against a plush surface, writhing under a scorching hot body. Sweat ran down your back. 

“I knew you were mine the minute I laid eyes on you.” a voice cut through the air. “Mine, m-mine.”

~

“Hey Jimin! Come look at this!”

“Must we stop and look at every cute animal we come across?”

“Umm yes?”

~

“Jimin, don’t you ever get tired of knowing the future? Doesn’t that take the fun out of life?”

“What do you mean?”

“Knowing everything before it happens...Seems kinda sad.”

“Well that’s one way of looking at it. I never thought of it that way”

...

“P-please don’t make me order by myself!”

“My darling it isn’t that bad.”

“Do you want the world to explode?!”

...

You had no idea what the hell just happened, and you weren’t sure if you liked it or not. “What the hell was that?”

“Your future.” Jimin’s voice was wavering. Almost as if he wasn’t expecting that ‘vision’. “And apparently mine.”

“Oh.” You went completely quiet now. You had no idea how to respond. “W-wow.” Suddenly you were overcome with a large bounty of fear. You literally just saw you future with a man whom you just met. How the hell were you supposed to respond?! You instantly felt small. As if you were shrunk down to size and the world was way too big to navigate through.

“Um...I should go.” Jimin rose to his feet and left without another word. He disappeared through the curtains and didn’t look back. You stared longingly, part of you hoping he’d return.

...(Hours later)

You hadn’t run into your friends all afternoon, and you were too in a daze to even try and look for them. Last you saw, they were headed for the circus tent. 

The festive bright colors had dulled to red, black, and purple as far as the eye could see. It looked straight out of a vampire romance novel. You tried not to think about Jimin all day since your interaction, but you couldn’t. 

“You know what, fuck him.” you seethed. “He’s lucky I didn’t call the cops on his ass.” you stopped in place.

“Free mask?” a woman came up to you, holding out a gem encrusted masquerade. “Enjoy the festival the right way.” She had white gloves on that matched her own mask that covered her entire face. You took a look around and many people were wearing all sorts of different masks. “Don’t worry each one is special. You won’t find another one like it.”

“Sure...thank you.” you smiled politely. As the woman walked away, you slipped the mask on. Lucky for you, you could see just fine. As you got your mask on, you could see a man in the distance, wearing a sparkly black mask that kind of reminded you of the mask from Phantom Of The Opera. 

You didn’t think much of it. In fact, you continued walking. You ignored everyone else. You were gonna enjoy yourself until morning.

“Ladies and Gents! The fireworks show is about to begin!!” 

You found yourself wandering to the back of the crowd, leaning against a tree. It felt nice. It was almost like your own personal show. 

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

“Very.” you breathed in response. His presence could be felt like a space heater. 

“I was thinking about you...”

“Really?” you hummed thoughtfully. “Before or after you left me sitting with a bleeding hand?” you turned around to face Jimin, his sparkling black mask seemingly glowing under the fireworks. 

“I didn’t know how to process it.” he explained. “It’s the first time I’ve ever come across a vision like that.”

“I can see that.” you shrugged. “So what do you want then?”

“Meet me back at my tent.”

And so here you were, arms crossed and dragging your feet to follow Jimin back to his tent. A woman was standing outside the tent and all Jimin had to do was nod her way for her to walk away.

The second you both went through the tent, you were taken into his arms.

Jimin kissed you passionately, walking you backwards towards the now empty table. He gently pushed you down, letting you land on the hard table. 

Jimin stared at you, particularly the rise and fall of your chest. He knew the blood was rushing to your had, because he was going through the same thing. Without thinking, you reached out and took his mask off. 

“Don’t cover your scar.” you smiled sadly.

He mirrored your face and removed your mask. “Only if you don’t cover your face.”

Whoever took whose clothes off first didn’t matter.

Slowly, he slid in, his jaw going slack as he felt you tighten around him.

“I’ve been waiting for this.” he whimpered. “You don’t know how badly I need this, how badly I want this.”

 His touch was scorching hot, like fire against your naked skin. “Do you trust me?”

You wordlessly nodded. All the motivation he needed. He took his pinky finger nail, which you noticed was very sharp and poked your shoulder. 

He neared closer and collecting the blood on his tongue.

“Wanted to gaze into the future again?” you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Could you blame me?”

[bjy-on-ao3]

Omg, i just read your dionysus fic, over indulgence, and holy shit, it was amazing! I really liked how you characterised him, and reader too, i just dont know what to say other than i absolutely loved it! I'd love to see more hades content! Maybe with Ares this time? He is always so smug, and somehow can be both very intimidating while staying super polite.... Im howwible with prompts, but maybe one where reader is a priestess of athena and somehow catches ares's attention?

I hope you don’t mind stuff rough.  I hope this satisfies your want for Ares, Anon!

In the game, Athena and Ares don’t seem to really like each other all that much, so I figured any priest/priestesses or disciples of her would have been warned about him. It also made sense for me that many of those people would double as great warriors/soldiers skilled at defense, but also in battle overall.If you’re looking for something warm and soft, please turn back. I really can’t see Ares in a gentle light, and this fic will contain blood/bloodplay, biting, bruising, and Ares getting a kick of out it all. Dubcon only because Reader agrees to the conditions of Ares being able to take what he wants if they lose. (As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

Tags/Warnings Biting, Blood, Bloodplay, Combat, Creampie, Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader Insert, Sadism, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex, Violent Sex

Summary Reader - priestess and champion of Athena and fresh off becoming victor of a tournament held in honor of the gods - has an encounter with the most bloodthirsty god of them all: Impressed, Ares offers them a boon should they best him in combat - though if they lose, Ares may take what he sees fit.

Fic Friday

Shieldmaiden (F! Reader/Ares)

The day had been a long and arduous one, filled to bursting with adrenaline and quick-thinking. Oft enough, your days were composed of training or ceremonies, or helping those who sought aid from the temple to Athena you served. But dawn that morning had heralded the start of a tournament lasting till Helios drove the sun beneath the horizon once more. In a way, those who fell quickly were rewarded with a reprieve from the constant bouts, as even though the humiliation of defeat burdened them.

Even on the heels of victory, by the time the battles had concluded, you were tired and sore, marred with minor bruises and a few nicks and scrapes. It was nothing that a good night’s sleep and some poultices wouldn’t solve, though. ‘All worth the honor of winning such a tournament’ you told yourself. Unlike some combatants, you hadn’t killed an opponent, seeking to shed the least blood possible. Your efficiency had no room for excess. But no amount of hard-won praise and self-satisfaction could change that you were looking forward to curling up and resting until the sun rose on a new day.

Traipsing back to the temple in the glowing purple and red twilight, however, a voice caught your attention. “I must say, your performance today was quite impressive.”

To your credit, you didn’t jump or flinch away, becoming stock still and turning slowly toward the source of the voice. “Who’s there? Whom do I have privilege of impressing?” You asked cautiously, unable to strip all the irritation from your tone. You had patience remaining, though you were loath to chat with someone over your victory when you would much rather be in your bed.

Your eyes landed on a tall figure you somehow hadn’t noticed before - a man - stance regal and straight. Something about the posture gave off a sense of nonchalance as well. Clad in armor of ivory and gold, accented with long shards of black and the eerie glaring face of a beast on the chest plate, he radiated an aura of menace, accompanied by a bloodlust so tangible you could almost taste it on your tongue, hot and bitter. Eyes like smoldering coals plucked from a roaring hearth stared at you intently.. Combined with the simper spread over his lips, you couldn’t suppress the chill that raced up your spine.

Something in your gut twisted uncomfortably, and you resisted the urge to put a few more paces between the two of you. Even if it hadn’t been for the myriad weapons crossed over his back, or the impressive armor, the man would have seemed someone to be cautious around, someone you shouldn’t trust. Everything put together set you on high alert instantly, the instinct of fight or flight rising in your chest like a bird taking wing. Something primal shrieked at you that, for once, flight might be the preferred choice.

“You fight rather viciously for one under my dear sister’s wing,” the man mused, his tone light, but formal.

“I asked before - who are you?” you pressed again, not interested in mincing words. You didn’t like how easily he spoke to you or offhandedly disparaged your goddess.

“Oh, no hesitation to be found. Perhaps Athena neglected to impart all of her wisdom to you after all.” you bristled at the insult, taking a deep breath and trying to relieve some of the tension coursing through you. “I am Ares, and I desired to see the prowess of my sister’s little owl before my own eyes.”

‘Little owl?’ the nickname distracted you at first, thinking to the tiny owls often depicted accompanying your Lady, but you shook your head and dismissed the thought. You hadn’t the time to concern yourself with foolish nicknames. “Lord Ares? Well, I have no desire to see you, my Lord,” you said. With the revelation of his identity, you felt even more uneasy. Ares, god of war and death, who was said to bask in the bloodshed and chaos of man. Athena had been certain her followers knew well of her violent half-brother. “I may not have all of my Lady’s knowledge, but I am wise enough to keep my distance from you and the needless death that follows in your wake.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, wary of each word and wondering if he might take offense from your rejection. From the tales told, the Olympians never took well to being ignored or spurned, but to indulge in the company of a god like Ares was no more appealing a choice. The look on Ares’ face remained pleasant, the corners of his lips set in a smug smile, and he let out a quick puff of laughter that would have been pleasant, had it not come from him.

“What a pity. Although I do not believe that choice is yours to make, little owl,” he began, closing some distance between you. You followed his movements intently, concerned he might draw one of the swords from his back and set upon you with every step closer. “Surely you do not think yourself beyond the bidding of one god solely because you serve another?”

Your hands clenched and unclenched nervously at your sides as you considered his words. Ares was right, of course. Being a priestess of Athena did not grant you any protection from other gods - not unless she interfered directly. And that kind of divine intervention was a rarity. You avoided his question and changed the subject, though you doubted he would be redirected so easily. The God of War was no fool.

“What do you really want? I’ve little time for games, my Lord.”

“I wish to see your technique for myself. Show me how that passion and diligence fares against a foe more than mortal,” he elaborated.

The blood in your veins ran cold upon his admission and your heart thudded so hard you wondered if it was audible from where he stood. Battling a god was firmly on the side of things you wished never to do. “If you think I’m dull enough that I would willingly engage the God of War, then you insult me, my Lord,” you said stiffly, trying to suppress your trepidation from worming into your voice and failing.

“What is it I hear beneath your bold tone? I trust one of my dear sister’s bold little priestesses, one of her champions, even, is not afraid of all things?” Ares taunted smoothly. From the way his self-assured smile twitched upward, barely, you knew he was enjoying your reaction.

“Fear and caution are not the same thing,” you denied fiercely.

“True enough, but it is not caution what gives you pause. If it puts you at ease, little owl, I will not take your life.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you scrutinized him intensely, finding no sign of whether he was lying or being genuine. All you found in those bloody eyes and stony face was cold calculation and an insatiable lust for violence. “Why should I believe you?” you asked, face twisting suspiciously.

“Because, beloved by my sister or not, if I so desired to kill you, I would have done so the instant you denied my invitation and spoke to me so disrespectfully.” He talked of ending you so casually it made you shudder, and you cursed yourself for it immediately.

It seemed you had little choice but to indulge Ares in whatever game he had in mind. “And if I agree - what is the benefit to me?” Ares had promised he wouldn’t kill you, but you saw no other purpose to fight him. You still weren’t sure he wouldn’t just kill you, despite his promise.

“Is serving one of the gods not benefit enough for you? What a greedy little owl my sister has found.” Again, Ares taunted you. You wondered if he was trying to make you angry enough to divest your caution and sabotage your battle prowess.

“That’s not an answer,” you spat back. God or not, you were tiring of whatever he was doing.

Fortunately, Ares cut to the chase. “Very well, best me and you shall have whatever boon of me you wish.”

“And if I lose?”

“Then, I shall take from you what I decide most fitting.:

“But not my life,” you added, still skeptical.

“You have my word,” Ares insisted. “Besides, would it not be such a waste to douse a promising ember when it could kindled and made to burn all around it?” he added in afterthought and once again the implications of his words unsettled you. “Now, I trust we are done with these tedious negotiations, hm?” he prompted.

Steeling yourself and willing away the stiffness and fear bubbling in your chest, you nodded. Ares had decided what the outcome of the discussion would be before he first spoke. There was nothing more to be said - at least not with words. Eyes trained on the intimidating figure of the God of War, you retrieved the shield and blade slung over your shoulders. You brandished them both, falling into the stance you were trained to use.

Across from you - hardly half a dozen feet off - Ares drew a weapon of his own. The sight of the curved blade incited your fear once more. The black blade was a ghastly thing, wickedly sharp and emanating a thick, billowing red haze the color of viscera. It was unmistakably a weapon befitting a god, and it made something deep inside you want to turn tail and run. But you knew running would be fruitless - all it would earn you was a head-sized loss of weight between your shoulders.

 At once, the both of you moved slowly, following a wide circle, two shadowy beasts in the fading dusk searching for weaknesses and flaws. All of your training and wisdom told you to wait, let Ares come to you and make the first move. But you weren’t sure your reactive way of fighting would hold up against someone of his calibre. As Ares had implied, he was no mortal, and you could only imagine the horrible strength and skill behind his blade.

Ares shattered the heavy stillness abruptly, darting forward and making a low arcing swing up toward you. There was no hesitation behind the blow and you had the feeling if you hadn’t stopped it with your blade, his falcata would have carved a clean line into your torso. Ares may have promised not to kill you, but he wasn’t above grievously injuring you. He gave you little time to think on his intentions, however, another strike quickly following when you knocked his sword aside.

You caught that swing as well, on your shield this time, and your arm stung from the force that rang through it. Blow after blow rained down on you, forcing you on the defensive almost constantly, and even then, many near misses made you tense and wide-eyed. Eventually, you found some rhythm to his assault, and Ares even paused, granting you a scant few seconds to breathe and think. Still, you needed to analyze what you learned quickly - your enduring method of fighting wouldn’t suit well against his relentless onslaught. You had fought aggressive attackers in the past, but their strength and ferocity paled compared to Ares.

Eyes flashing to and fro, following the tuck and arc of his weapon, at the same time searching for openings, you readied to strike. You would need to be swift, perfect in your timing, and hold back nothing if you wanted any hope of breaching his flurry of blows. You took your chance when his fuming blade glanced off your shield at just the right angle to slide away, instead of adding more to the numbness in your shield arm. Dipping down, you swept your own blade under his arm and up. The metal scraped past one of his pauldrons and up, and your eyes shot wider when the tip of the blade reached out towards Ares’ face.

A swift kick pushed you back, leaving you winded, and you looked back up quickly. Ares was standing in place, a small distance away, but close enough to observe small details. His blade upheld in one hand, smoking menacingly, he lifted his free hand to his cheek, brushing away the slick of blood oozing from a diagonal cut across his cheek.Your heart fell at the sight of how little damage you had done. After all that time, you had given him what was barely more than what a mortal mine might suffer from a shaving accident. It was an ill omen when you were so used to your blade striking true and dispatching opponents in only a few strokes.

“Oh, what a splendid surprise.” Your blood may as well have turned to ice. Not at Ares’ words, but his tone.

Beneath the refined and formal speech, something almost excited could be heard. You had the sudden dreadful feeling that indulging the God of War’s little game had been a terrible mistake - even if  there was no other choice. Excitement was a chilling thing to hear from a being who adored violence and death. You had expected anger, perhaps, or bitterness that a mortal had drawn blood against him. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been a shock he liked to bleed as much as he liked to bleed others.

“Perhaps I underestimated you, little owl. Such skill seems wasted protecting others, do you not think so?” Ares asked, the hint of excitement vanished.

An indignation bubbled up beneath your dread, understanding Ares had meant your talents better suited to bloody slaughter and resenting that notion. You bristled, snapping back at him. “If I agreed, I would have served from the start, wouldn’t I?”

Ares ignored your response, as if he hadn’t heard. “I have seen more than enough, little owl. Our duel shall come to an end now,” he declared confidently. Again resentment and terror warred with one another within you.

When Ares bolted forward again, you barely thrust out your sword in time and turned his strike aside. The eerie cloud emanating from the blade seemed to have increased, tendrils of it whipping about, framing Ares ominously and obscuring your vision here and there.  He didn’t stop at a single blow, striking out again and again as before, but with much more strength behind the attacks. The thought that your weapon and shield or arms might shatter from the force if things kept up flitted through your mind, distracting you for the barest moment.

Ares’ blade flashed forward, and your shield was thrust away, spinning through the air before crashing down and clattering to the ground. In a lightning quick motion, before you could bring your blade in to force his falcata away, the edge was leveled to your throat. You fell deathly still, the icy blade faintly touching your skin. One false move or a twitch of Ares’ wrist and all would be done.

The war god moved closer, grabbing your sword hand cruelly and twisting your blade from your fist. The hand that had disarmed you snapped to your head, grabbing a fistful of hair at the root and making you hiss. He drew your head back and the painful pinch of his blade scarcely cutting your skin made your pulse quicken. A warm trickle crept down your skin. Held between Ares’ hand and his blade, you dared not even breathe too deeply, so close were you to both.

Burning crimson watched you keenly, blazing with triumph and thet still unquenchable lust for blood. The blood you seeping from the shallow cut on your throat encouraged that bloodlust to greater heights rather than sate it. The thought made the space between you and the god feel heavy, airless.

“You fought magnificently, little owl. A far greater challenge even than I had foreseen,” Ares praised, not bothering to draw his weapon back. The tension hanging in the air, in fact, seemed thoroughly amusing to him, alluring even. You gathered all the resolve you possessed, fighting to glare defiantly at him. There was no room to show weakness. “How lovely that look suits you. Fearful, yet masked in defiance, even in the very face of death,” he drawled. You wondered if the god enjoyed his own voice as much as he enjoyed bloodshedl. “Do you believe me a liar?” Ares asked coolly after a moment of unsettling silence.

“I-” you opened your mouth intending to disagree, to ensure him you believed him - even if you didn’t trust him in the slightest -, but something stopped you. “Yes.” As the word escaped, you cursed yourself.

To your surprise, Ares’ proud smile grew. “Such an unwise thing to say,” he mused, “Are you trying to provoke me, now, little owl?” he asked nonchalantly, applying the scantest amount more pressure to his haze billowing blade. You winced, but quickly corrected your expression until your focus was on Ares once more. “No matter, our duel is over. Now comes time to take what I deem ample compensation for my victory.” At last, Ares drew back and took his falcata with him, and you could breathe again.

The start of a cold sweat broke out on your skin, and you felt clammy, except for the hot, sticky trickle drying on your neck. You swallowed thickly, willing your tongue to obey you, and spoke again after a moment of recovery. “So, what do you want? Out with it.” you pressed, perhaps too demandingly for one whom had been in your previous position. Yet with the blade no longer threatening to carve your throat open, you couldn’t help the annoyance and unease that crept into you.

“Tread carefully, little owl. I spared you before,” Ares reminded you casually, though the sharp warning edge suffused his words. He would take your insolence only so far. “Continue to disrespect me and I shall take your words as invitation to grant you a most painful end.” He paused, slipping his dark blade back where it belonged, before turning to you. “As the spoils of my victory, this ought to suffice.”

In an instant, so quick you had no time to wonder what had come over him, Ares was upon you again. His hand, having previously disengaged when he took his weapon away, returned, entangling itself in your hair again and forcing you to remain still. Before you knew it, Ares stepped uncomfortably close, bowing his head and slashing his lips across yours in a kiss that was neither delicate nor considerate. It was a kiss fueled by strength, full of teeth and heat that left you in a stupor.

Ares didn’t bother with the tedious task of coaxing your lips open with his tongue, choosing to bite down viciously, and blood oozed out to meet him. It slicked his teeth and tongue and your mouth fell open in a gasp of pain, and Ares thrust his tongue into your mouth.  It swept along your teeth for a moment, before wrapping around your own and fighting it into submission. A heady metallic taste washed over you as you futilely tried to win the war of flesh. Blood. Your blood. Mixed with the coppery flavor was something more subtle, spicy and earthy at once.

When Ares relented and pulled away, you strove for breath, the taste of him and your blood lingering in your mouth. But he had only begun, giving you little time to recover. You had long enough to question why you had kissed him back - or had you been trying to fight him off? - before he jerked your head back and inclined his faced further. His lips, hot and the barest bit sticky, met the curve of your throat. He swept down your skin, leaving angry bite marks and blotches in his wake, until he was nestled against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, unprotected by armor and bared by your tunic.

He bit down again. Harder than before, and his teeth sank into you, another rush of blood welling up.You couldn’t control the pained cry that burst from your lips. You were used to injuries from training or battle, yet hardly in such sensitive places, and almost never from someone’s teeth. It burned when Ares lapped greedily at the wound and you hissed. His free hand had curled behind you at some time you hadn’t noticed, pressing you forward, the unyielding planes of his chest plate and pauldrons digging into you uncomfortable.

A new sensation was blossoming beneath the pain, one that should have been utterly foreign and unthinkable, given the brutality Ares was treating you with. Maybe it was the burning, hungry expression in Ares' eyes as he looked up from your skin, lips tinged red. Or maybe it was the crushing embrace he held you trapped in. Or maybe the way he held you utterly compliant and vulnerable in his grasp. Or maybe it was all of those things combined that made heat fill you from your core and pool between your legs. A dangerous, confused lust was rising - one it would have been wiser to reject.

“Such splendid sounds, little owl,” Ares said, his voice lower, a wild delight tinging it. “I desire to hear more. Do not disappoint me.”

With a rough push, your feet left the ground, and you tumbled backward away from Ares’ grip, too startled and dazed from the confounding feeling brewing in your belly and the painful throbbing in your lip and shoulder to catch yourself in time. You grimaced when you met the ground, making to prop yourself up. But Ares followed you, shoving you down completely and pinning you there. Again, his armor prodded uncomfortably at you. Past the pleated leather folds attached to the armor torso, something still distinctly hard, but much warmer prodded at you as well.

When large hands groped at your tunic -  somehow both callous and perfect - some degree of sense insisted you stop him. But others argued with it. They insisted there was no point, this was the spoils Ares chose to claim. You wouldn’t be able to stop him if you tried. One devilish voice even craved more. Your internal debate crashed to a halt when Ares jerked your tunic down, the faint sound of fabric ripping lost to you. His lips fell upon your skin again where the fabric fell away, biting and sucking like he was trying to devour you. Many of them stung, not all as harsh as the bite to your shoulder, but several more drawing blood or leaving the areas soon to bruise, painting your skin in garish colors.

More pained sounds left your lips, gasps and whimpers and groans, though mixing more steadily into them were noises that belied some twisted pleasure. A hiss that became a moan. A gasp that turned into something breathy and thick. Something was stirring more and more hotly within you, transforming pain into a muted pleasure and adding fuel to the embers smoldering between your legs and in your belly.

Ares’ hands were as greedy as his lips, groping and kneading unmarred skin, roughly grabbing at your chest, pinching your nipples and making you cry out pitifully. Before long, he had covered your torso, shoulders, and neck in darkening bruises and blood, teeth marks and scrapes. Pulling away until he was looming over you like an ominous shadow, you could still make out the satisfied look languidly spread across his lips. His eyes seemed even more fiery, near crazed, as if he were high on your blood and pain.

“Such a careful, focused beast in the heat of battle. Now look at you, little owl, stained and trembling,” he purred, and his tongue trailed over his lips, cleaning the crimson staining them. “How beautiful a sight. The color suits you well.” He grabbed at your tunic some more, gathering the bottom around your waist, meeting the neckline he had pushed down. “As fragile and easy to see through as glass. Ought I shatter you like it, then?” Ares asked, greedily taking in the even larger expanse of flesh revealed to him. You wondered if he meant to litter the rest of you in similar marks.

Your lips parted, and you didn’t speak for a second, waiting for the mental gears to  turn. Your only choice was the illusion of it, so you may as well as pretend your answer meant something. “Break me as you please, Lord Ares,” you told him, surprised to hear how your voice sounded. Strain and breathy, and the realization strengthened the heat and wetness at your center you couldn’t deny, likely plain to Ares’ eyes with your tunic no longer guarding it.

��How bold a choice of words, little owl.” Ares sounded pleased, possibly having expected you to retort defiantly, or have no words at all. Yet you had indulged his words instead. He trailed a thick finger gingerly over your throat, tracing over your racing pulse. “It would thrill me so to watch the life bleed from you.” You believed him completely. There was no denying in different circumstances Ares would revel in your death. “Alas, I shall have to make do sheathing a different blade within your supple flesh.”

A hint of excited impatience shone through as Ares sat back on his knees, leaving you to lie waiting in the dirt for what he would do next. With an iron grip, he grabbed your thighs, lifting them both off the ground and splaying them over his pauldrons, on either side of the crossed blades on his back. The cold touch of his armor on your overheated, abused skin made you shudder, and you watched as he lifted the lappets of the armor.  

Your eyes lingered on what had thrust against you from behind layers of leather before, and you swallowed nervously. Ares was endowed impressively and in the embrace of a gentle lover that might promise a minor discomfort, but pleasure overall. Ares had shown no intention to treat you gently though - the ache and throb from the aftermath of his attention reinforced that - and you were under no illusion he was going to change that.

The new hesitation must have shown in your expression, a dangerous thrill creeping onto Ares’ own face as he brought the head of his cock to your folds. You thanked the stars that his brutal attentions had somehow elicited a perverse hunger from you, soaking your core. Though you imagined he would have fucked you raw whether or not you were wet. In fact, he might have enjoyed it more that way. Fortunately, his dick slipped slickly between your lips, gathering some of your wetness and pushing against your slit.

Ares didn’t take his time entering you, nor savor the moment, bucking his hips forward and splitting your cunt wide. You arched your back stiffly and hissed, both at the awful burn from the way his cock stretched you and the surprising satisfaction from the overwhelming fullness. You drew deep breaths, trying to adjust to the thick intrusion, fighting the pathetic whines that threatened to spill out.

Ares didn’t give you time to adjust to his size, rutting harshly against you, calloused hands digging roughly into your thighs. He leaned forward, bending you nearly in half, far enough a tendril of his silvery white hair brushed against your stomach, making your skin jump. The stretch ached to be sure - it would have even if Ares had been more thoughtful - but caught up in whatever perverse mood electrified the moment, there was pleasure bleeding into the pain.

Pleasure from the way he filled you so completely, creating a delicious friction that made your gut heat and tense. Pleasure from the rough slant of his hips against yours and his balls slapping your ass. Pleasure from the renewed vigor and sting of his lips and teeth attacking your neglected skin once more. It was agonizing and mindnumbing and enjoyable in a way you couldn’t have had any hope of explaining, at least not in a right sense of mind.

Each hard rock of his hips and searing puff of breath against your skin wore away at what little pride you retained, if you could claim to have any scrap left, looking such a mess. You might regret the memory later, but in the heat of the moment, there was no time for regrets or second thoughts. There was only room to try and enjoy what Ares had claimed as his reward.

As your dignity shattered and disintegrated like dust, the heat of your body and between your thighs grew, until you cried out into the air, the pleasure finally rising high enough to meet the pain and break loose from your throat between whines and winces. One loud cry that twisted and broke from another especially vicious bite must have gotten to Ares, eliciting an answering sound that was deep and primal.

Continuing to pound into your cunt, Ares looked up from his savagery of your skin, eyes glittering with amsement and lust of multiple kinds. His hot breath rolled over your bruised chest and his silky words rumbled over you. “You ought to thank me for my mercy,” he growled, and amidst the pain and pleasure you laughed to yourself. Mercy for a war god amounted simply to not killing you it seemed, even if the alternative was marking your body viciously and claiming it for himself. “Go on, then, little owl,” he compelled you, puncutating his words with a harder buck of his hips that left made you shout.

You opened your mouth, at first only pants and huffs and whimpers broke away. You gathered the words on your tongue he demanded of you. “Th-thank...aah...thank you, Lord Ares!” you cried out, surprisingly yourself. “Thank you f-for sparing me.”

He seemed satisfied with you pitiful answer, shaky and broken as it was, though he remained close to your skin. His pace grew stronger, faster, and he drew his tongue over some of the more bloody marks he’d left behind, coating his tongue again in your essence. His eyes swept hotly over his handiwork, bordering on frenzied. “Is it not such a wondrous feeling, to break bleed so, little owl?”

The smooth, husky tone of his voice, though it spoke such sick words - words you would have rejected in another setting - drove your own fervor higher, the molten spring of tension in your abdomen coming to the edge of its breaking point. You responded without hesitation, mind bent only on the promised releasen. “Yes, yes, my Lord!”

No more words fell between the two of you then, only the primal symphony of moans, grunts, groans, and gasps, enough to be heard by any soul unfortunate enough to be passing nearby. You hadn’t thought Ares’ thrusts could become any crueler, but as he chased and neared his own release, they did, until each thrust stung, hurting almost more than they pleased. His hands still clenched around your thighs and you could only imagine the intensity of the bruises that would be left behind - perhaps even worse than the many peppering your neck and chest and torso.

Despite the pain, your cunt squeezed around him, fluttering erratically as you danced on that edge so, so close. Until at last, it burst. But not before Ares finished with a sound so dark and heavy and alluring it could be called inhuman. Your walls embraced him even tighter as his cum filled you to overflowing, hot and wet, and you screamed and cried into the darkness of evening that had taken over.

When all was still at last, youtruly began to feel the extent of the damage Ares had done. He didn’t remain atop you much longer, not seeming to need to catch his breath, and when he pulled out of you, you shuddered, feeling sore and empty. Already tired before Ares had sought you out, and even more so after your combat, you were completely and utterly exhausted. Lying there, each pound of your heart making the bites and bruises pound along with it, you wondered if passing out in the dirt was a viable option.

Ares didn’t concern himself with your thoughts, however, or whatever it was you intended to do now that he was finished with you - for now at least. He just looked down at you, tucking himself back beneath the lappets of his armor and looking no worse for the wear. “Farewell, little owl. Do take care. And consider what I have said,” he began. “Your talents ought be used for something far more satisfying.”

You didn’t answer, letting your eyelids slide closed for a minute. When you opened them again, you were alone and the air was still and silent. You begrudgingly sat up, preparing to tackle the ordeal of standing and making the rest of your way home and to your bed. You wondered how you were going to explain your state to your fellows the following day.

[a-libra-writes]

Just saw your blog and well it’s amazing 🌟🌟🌟 can you do a list for each of GoT characters (the once you like 😜) and write down 2-3 kinks for them thx Would be a blessing 😍😍

apologies i took so long to answer this! gonna go through this quick, also put it under a cut for those who dont want my basic, sleepy-ass degenerate opinions. let us discuss like proper ladies, lords and lieges. 

(if ur boo isnt here then i couldnt think of anything specific they vanilla)

Ned - Everyone assumes he’s super vanilla lmao but he has a lowkey pregnancy kink and size kink; like he’ll be very willing to be intimate when you’re looking like a whale and he likes to carry you or hold you down but not too roughly. he’s our soft husband ok

Robb - Biting and lowkey public sex; like it’s outside your bedroom but there’s a low chance of getting caught lol (tho if you’re his wife he probably won’t mind ayyyy). not really a kink but very prone to jealous sex his is the best

Jon - Giving service and having his hair pulled!! also outdoors is better than indoors but he’s a little shy about voicing that lol go easy on him

Benjen - having his hair pulled, leaving LOTS of hickeys/bruises, getting bit and biting you, rougher sex, sneaking around w you, spanking you ....he has a lot haha. Ned might carry you like a princess but Benjen likes tossing you over his shoulder and spanking you just to piss you off lmao

Jory - Being fem dom’d, let’s be real. Esp when you’re riding him and using him how you like. 

Edd - Voice kink, but for your voice, especially when you talk sweetly or moan. Lowkey likes roleplaying too

Mance - Open to threesomes and likes seeing you with other men. Also has a thing for your voice

Tormund - oh boy uh also open to the threesome thing but wants to participate and hog all your attention, loves sex right after a fight, loves it when his girl kicks ass and still has blood on her hands from it. Has a thing for licking anywhere, and biting.

Yara - likes it when your bratty so she can overstimulate and punish you. also likes pissing you off and sexually frustrating you so you’ll pounce on her first. has a thing for knifeplay too.

Dany - Likes being the one on top / doing the dominating and ordering you around, tho she’s softer than Yara. Also wearing your clothes and underwear, and having your fingers run through her hair.

Jorah - SERVICE KINK 150% and doesn’t mind you being on top, especially when you initiate it, and has a big praise kink, regardless of whose doing the praising. Body worship kink too.

Tywin - Dominating dominating doooominating and good luck escaping that lmfao. He also likes punishing you, marking you and making you beg and cry like a good girl (but obvs the aftercare is on point).

Tyrion - Has a big praise kink and likes to talk dirty; he’s VERY good at it. 

Jaime - oh boy okay semi-public sex (big chance of getting caught), roleplaying dubcon or just generally struggling against him, being mostly/partially clothed, giving you VERY OBVIOUS BIG hickeys and generally likes making out. 

Sandor - A SIZE KINK A MILE LONG holy shit and it comes out constantly. Also likes bending you over various surfaces and fucking you hard, very into rougher sex, just as much as sweeter sex. won’t admit it but really gets off on you being sweet and affectionate too

Bronn - okay like a million but he especially loves spanking, public sex with a good chance to get caught, restraining you with bindings of some kind and also a p healthy size kink (but not as much as Sandor or Brynden)

Petyr - loves to both spoil and mercilessly edge a pillow princess; really likes teasing and orgasm denial in general. really gets off when you cry from pleasure. will go from 0 to 200 if you want to fuck in his lap or ride him while he’s working

Stannis - lmao my poor husband ok so really into being praised and desired after; related to that, likes it when you take control and tell him what to do. 

Margaery - really likes being in control sometimes, so she’ll pleasure and spoil you while remaining mostly clothed. sometimes she orgasm denials but shes p vanilla for the most part!

Brynden - Size!! Kink!!! He loves a smol girl and tbf he’s kind of a giant so that’s p easy lol. Likes to pick you up and position you where he wants; its p easy to do with his strength. Lowkey has a thing for fucking while one or both of you is mostly clothed, and likes to rip at your dress to get at you easier (tho he feels bad for it and wont indulge in it unless you say its ok). 

Ramsay - hooooooooo boy it might be easier to list what he’s NOT into. He really likes leaving marks and taking you wherever he pleases, also likes you tie you down and do whatever he wants. very into bloodplay or knifeplay but won’t seriously hurt you. LOVES it when you lick anything off him.

Roose - A breeding kink that is absurd; its very obvious when he’s pursuing you and esp once yall are married. Also into dominating you, holding you down in some way (preferably with his hands and strength) and totally melts at your praise. really likes when you’re bratty or when you struggle against him

Oberyn - lol holy shit also A LOT but uhh narrowing it down, likes watching you please someone or get pleasured by several people (as long as he’s loved on too), loves kissing and biting your ears and neck, also loves it when you act like a bratty princess and make him pleasure you

Beric - lowkey into making out or even feeling you up in front of everyone at the camp, likes holding you as close as possible when yall are intimate. didnt realize he had a kink for your voice until you started saying “ser” and “my lord” while whispering or moaning. 

[scurdemcn]

@daemoniumuvam​: 👙, 🌶️, 🤷, 😮, 💉, 💪 and 😪 [ACCEPTING]

👙 - do they have some particularly weird kink?

[nothing particularly weird, really. not all mortals are into knife/bloodplay, of course, but compared to other demons she knows she’s pretty tame.

the only one she’s kind of embarassed to talk about is her roleplay/cosplay kink tho! again it’s nothing too out of the ordinary, but it’s something personal and strictly for one-on-one intercourses!!!]

🌶️ - can they handle spicy food?

[she doesn’t like it that much, but she can handle it just fine.]

🤷 - did they ever ruin something they couldn’t have out of spite?

[answered! :D]

😮 - do they feel like they own someone? their partner, their friends…

[...now, now. again, she has no reason to be jealous of the Helltaker. she lives in a goddamn house with all of his other fuckbuddies, and considering how things are going Malina is pretty sure they’re going to get new roomies in the future because that man can’t keep his dick down whenever he sees a cute lady.

this said she’s kind of possessive if any mortal woman goes a little too close for comfort. Like, come on. getting a harem of demon girls (and one (1) angel) and then still going for a human would be just insulting. Back Off You Basic Bitches]

💉 - what’s the worst injury they had to deal with?

[eeeh, she can’t really remember the specific time and who did that. Probably while dealing with some other bratty demon to defend her territory back in Hell, as far as she can remember

having both of your arms being torn off isn’t fun, nor is waiting for them to heal]

💪 - what’s their ability they brag about the most?

[well, she is a master strategist... even if lately she uses those skills mostly for gaming and nothing else! it’s better like this tho. planning a fight in Age of Empires is much less dangerous than doing it during a battle with other demons.]

😪 - did they ever convince someone to do the hard work for them?

[...well. Bob is right there to pamper them, right? he might as well be useful]

[startrekacademy2161]

Blood, Knives, and Scars

Mirror!McCoy x Mirror!Reader, Reader x McCoy

Warning: Bloodplay, Knife play, torture, blood

Summary: Most are terrified by the work that the good Doctor does. You see it as art. You too are a Doctor aboard the ISS Enterprise and you and Dr. McCoy are particularly close; as in you are each other’s favorite plaything. You both marked your property in Medical school and if anyone dares to touch what is not theirs, they pay.

Classical music filled the air aboard the ISS Enterprise. Bones was at it again. An Ensign from engineering had fallen and hadn’t been expected to survive. When Bones had gotten tired of treating him, he had decided to test the limits that a human could handle when the pain was involved. Fur Elise was accompanied by the lovely screams of the Ensign at the end of his life.

You knew it was best to stay out of the MedBay when Bones was playing. You were in your quarters looking in the mirror. He had always left your face alone, but your back was a patchwork of scars; along your shoulders “McCoy” was cut deep, leaving bold scars when it healed. He had done it in med school as payback. (Y/L/N) was carved into his back the day you started practicing scalpel techniques. 

That was years ago, and now there wasn’t a spot on your back that he hadn’t marked up so beautifully. The music stopped, as did the screams, so you made your way down to the MedBay. Bones was covering up the Ensign’s body, muttering about weakness.

You grabbed a scalpel out of the supply drawer and walked over to Bones. You dragged it along the exposed skin just enough to draw little rivulets of blood. He let out a low growl before grabbing your wrist and dragging you to his office.

Nothing Bones does is ever gentle. When you entered his office. He slammed you against the wall and his hand was at your throat with enough pressure to draw tears. You were living. As much as he was in charge, you still had your way with him.

“It isn’t fair!” You pouted, still pinned in your spot.

“What isn’t fair exactly?” Anyone who doesn’t know him would be terrified by his appearance. He is missing an eye and a jagged scar ran through once was. He was even more terrifying when he was feeling dangerous; like now. He could so easily crush your windpipe or snap your neck. You knew he wouldn’t; your death wouldn’t serve him or benefit him in any way. You were safe.

“My back is covered so beautifully, but you have so much empty space on yours, and I am feeling very artistic today.” It always benefitted you to play meek. It made him feel more powerful and that was when he was the most generous.

He let you down slowly. Stalking away in a way that can only be described as predatory. Even with his shirt still on, you could see the muscles of his back ripple with every movement.

He walked over to the couch that was covered in blood stains; equal parts your and his. You still had the scalpel from earlier and even the mere sight of it was made you excited. When he reached the couch, he turned to you and gave you the come-hither finger. You walked over, twirling the blade in your hand. He pulled his shirt over revealing his own patchwork of scars.

“Do you think this will scar, Lee? I really hope not.”

“For a doctor, I am surprised the sight of blood bothers you?”

“For a doctor in Starfleet, I am surprised you have a fear of dying in something that flies...”

“That just isn’t fair, Darlin’.”

“What isn’t fair, exactly?”

“You are really sneaky, you know that.”

“I know. Hey, how is that Ensign from engineering? The one that fell.”

“He will be just fine...”

“We have some time to kill, wanna go to your office?”

“Jim insists that I need a new couch. He refuses to sit on the one that's in there right now.”

“Well, I like it. It reminds me of med school.”

Even though his shirt, you could see his muscles and broad shoulders; the uniforms just don’t do him justice. Though he would say the same about your uniform, though he will always insist that the dress uniform does your legs a kindness and him a disadvantage. He can never focus when you wear your dress uniform in the MedBay. When he ignores you though, all bets are off. Today was such a day.

With each movement of the blade, fresh blood dripped on to the couch. After a while, everything was slick with blood and you discarded the blade and what was left of your clothes. You were a tangle of limbs covered in blood and sweat. 

Love was not a concept that you and yours were accustomed to, but you needed Bones. He owned you and you owned him. 

An hour after slipping away, Jim came looking for you and Leonard. He didn’t knock, but he quickly wished he had. Curled up asleep on the couch, naked as the day they were born, were his CMO and ACMO. That was more Bones than he ever wanted to see. 

He slammed the door and asked for a progress report on the Ensign. Bones scurried to get dressed and you just watched his hot ass as he moved. Jim and Leonard were embarrassed enough for the lot of you. After all, it wasn’t like the two of you were a secret.

When Bones was done, the two of you headed to his private shower and washed up. You stitched up the particularly deep cuts but made sure that they would absolutely scar

@drmccoy-ruinedmylife @chook007 @sloth-lady-s

[howlingmoonrise]

Dear Yuletide Author

Hi! Thanks for signing up for Yuletide despite the hell year it’s been, I hope you have fun with your assignment!

I ramble a lot so everything is below the cut. Obviously you don’t have to follow any of this (though I hope you’ll respect my squicks) but hopefully this will help you out!

general things i like

so much pining. all the pining. pining everywhere plz.

continuing from above, PINING. i mean it. i prefer a thousand times over idiots in love who are having a hard time wrapping their minds around it than an already established relationship.

either gen or romantic is fine! what really does it for me is the development of the relationship, platonic or otherwise. it’s all about the growing intimacy and understanding and character dynamics and interactions and developing trust and finding kinship and growing respect for the other and subconsciously learning to lean on the other over anyone else and--

i love love love enemies-to-reluctant-allies-(to-maybe-friends?)-to-lovers and bickering pairs in general! it’s so much fun and it gives us so many opportunities for character and relationship developments okay i’m a slut for that shit

sticking to the original characterizations and the tone of canon is a definite plus!!!

“missing scenes” and “what if” canon-divergent situations are excellent, as are continuations from where canon left us depending on the fandom! more details on the sections for the respective fandoms i GUESS

casual intimacy is super fun, especially when adapted to the character dynamics. a bickering pair being casually comfortable adds a whole new depth to it, enemy dynamics makes is hilarious since the other half would have zero clue as to how to react, a pair that is already comfortable with each other that they do stuff without communicating is so intimate, mix and match however you like!

fun tropes i enjoy (a bit romance-leaning but if you’re not into that then some of these can probably be adapted): fake dating, accidentally got roped into x and shenanigans of all sorts keep happening, misunderstood confessions, groundhog day au, one or both the characters having stupid levels of denial while technically in a relationship and just not realizing it like What Do You Mean We’re Dating??, that sorta thing.

TROPE SUBVERSION ALL THE WAY!

--

general things i dislike

kidfics. babyfics. next gen fics. pregnancy fics, or even pregnancy discussed in the fic is a major squick of mine. the one exception i make for kidfics is for kids already existent in canon and even then it depends, but no babies or children otherwise please.

future fics/time skips in general, actually. what i enjoy is the relationship development, so huge time skips make me feel like we missed way too much

angst is... mrrmf. it really depends on how it’s done, but usually it feels like it’s angst for the sake of angst instead of giving the fic some actual meat.  as a result of this, i’d pass at least on most content with major character death, sexual abuse, self-harm, gender/sexuality angst, the like. beyond that, feel free to go ahead!

hard AUs are a bit ugh to me. by this i mean AUs that rely heavily on setting, such as high school AUs, harry potter AUs, that sort of thing. i DO however enjoy stuff like soulmate AUs and alternate canon AUs, depending on the concept and on the fandom. more details in their own sections if you enjoy writing those!

i heavily dislike things involving cheating/infidelity, sickfics, and genderbending of any kind is a bit ehhhh for me, as are concepts such as ABO. hard pass on stuff like dysphoria and deep diving into mental illnesses and disorders, too.

script-based or roleplay fic is not really my preferred format, i really enjoy prose instead of nearly all dialogue!

stuff with bigotry in general, racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, etc as well as discussions of it is a pass in general. it’s not a HUGE squick but i’d rather not see it if possible

discussions and thoughts on gender/sexuality. if you’re gonna make them gay/bi/etc, make them gay/bi/etc, no exploration of it added. delving into the psyche of it is a hard pass.

--

if you’re going for nsfw

kinks

moderate sadomasochism, uncommon forms of bondage (plants, stuck with strange substance or in awkward position, the shadows from p&tf as restraints, etc), choking/breathplay, xenophilia and tentacles/alien genitals (shadowplay in p&tf for example), moderate degradation, edging/desperation play, ladies topping and calling the shots, bloodplay/knifeplay, long hair dragging over skin, sharp nails/claws (charlotte la bouff, morticia), lowkey cannibalism imagery and hunger, biting, ladies stepping on body parts with their heels on

squicks

scat, vomit, praise kink, daddy/mommy or baby kink, vore, forced feminization, pet play, wound-fucking, abuse, abo, anything involving pregnancy at all

--

PRINCESS AND THE FROG

i am 100% aware this is a weird-ass pairing but gods, the possibilities. it has so much potential. there are few things i like quite as much as a villain and a good person developing a strange sort of kinship with each other >u> this doesn’t have to mean a romantic development, if it’s not your thing! as i said, for me it’s the building understanding and reluctant respect that i really love, far more than the actual romance.

ideas, ideas, ideas. i’m aware this is a rare relationship to either portray or ask for, so i’m gonna try to give some more concrete-ish ones for you to build up on if you have no clue as to how to approach this. 

we could have canonverse with charlotte dealing with the shadowman in some other, unrelated matter while the main plot is occurring, making him feel somewhat guilty about the whole marriage plot with laurence-turned-naveen. cue introspection, or even an entirely different outcome.

or a post-canon sort of hades&persephone plot (please no actual hades and persephone au though), with charlotte curious despite herself and tempted to listen to a shadow/dead/whatever!dr facilier when she’s the only one that can hear him.

in a continuation from above, OR her being dragged Beneath with him in a freak accident and then charming him into helping her back to the surface/living world (very, veeeeery reluctantly on his part, at least at the start, he might have even be thinking of tricking her but then change his mind when the time comes to do it).

i think dr facilier wouldn’t be sure how to deal with charlotte’s particular brand of personality and good humour, and it’d throw him off his rhythm a lot - that sort of thing is always super fun to write.

soulmate au in canon would work pretty well, but with this pairing? you could even do a FULL AU, keeping only basic stuff like the shadowman thing to her normal bougie self; it’s one of her charms. (and their personalities, of course). stuff like charlotte thinking that she wants one thing (her prince-slash-one-true-love, etc) while keeping getting drawn to him time and time again could work on pretty much any era or setting. vice-versa for him, thinking he wants to be rid of her but coming to realize he’d actually miss her if she were to be gone. OR, charlotte deciding she wants this sullen manipulative bastard and manipulating HIM into taking her out and hanging out with her would be hilarious.

if you wanna do nsfw, i have only one major request: charlotte calling the shots/topping. i think this arrangement would be in character for both of them (dr facilier would prob also enjoy having someone else do all the work lol) considering her go-getter attitude, but keeping in mind his manipulative personality i’d be more comfortable if she had some control over what was happening. ASIDE FROM THAT, d’you know what would be fun? a little darkness, and by that i mean consider dr facilier’s shadow joining in on the fun. shadows would also be an interesting sort of constraint. also i know i said charlotte calling the shots, but she can be constrained by the shadows while being amused by it or being used to it (implying it’s not the first time that they’ve used it in bed play and that it’s therefore negotiated), or charlotte could team up with the shadow to do it to facilier instead. charlotte using her nails and facilier being a bit of a sub/masochist would be excellent!

(actually in general it’d be really fun if there was some complicity between charlotte and facilier’s shadow in general, nsfw or otherwise. the shadow being wrapped around her little finger is an excellent concept, especially if facilier isn’t too fond of her just yet OwO)

--

THE ADDAMS FAMILY

oh boy. let me just begin by saying that this really isn’t my usual kind of pairing, by sheer virtue of them being perfectly happy and established in canon. HOWEVER, they’re goth and they’re odd and they’re kinky and they’re delightful to watch interact (i’m familiar with the movie canon featuring anjelica and raúl and a few (few!) of the comics, so idk about other dynamics) and so they’ve managed to creep their way into my blackened little heart.

THAT BEING SAID, my absolute biggest wish for this fandom would be pre-relationship. i don’t mind if canon is twisted a bit for this, considering that they presumably met and proposed on the very same day, so it’s definitely a bit hard to work with. perhaps some shenanigans with the funeral itself? or gomez has a date/fiancée already and so there’s some juggling of priorities here while he’s absolutely falling over himself in order to continue looking at that gothic vision of a woman? or an old family feud, or them just being downright useless at knowing how to deal with proper romance (on morticia’s side, i’d imagine she’d only grow more stoic and be at a loss of what to say. on gomez’s side, it’s probably his first time being speechless, or he’s not speechless but he’s flirted so much in his life that he doesn’t know what to do with these actual literal feelings, what the hell is this and how does he show he actually means it this time??), or morticia has a long string of dead fiancés black widow-style (i think she and debbie would have gotten along great if given the chance okay), or a soulmate au where they don’t realize it’s each other right away, or morticia amusedly pretends to be dating gomez before they know each other to get him out of a bind, or they’re somehow roped into someone else’s shenanigans and don’t know how to react to each other (my money is on either ophelia or cousin itt putting them in a bind), the sky is the limit!

if you’re more comfortable writing established, however, casual intimacy or smut are the best! give me a moment of respite where they are just comfortable basking in each other’s presence, or when they’re separated for a moment at an event or something and the longing is burning all the way across them until they come back together again (y’know, in the good old way of the script). for smut, morticia being a mostly stoic dom maybe? (though yes, i know she’s very much into being tied up and tortured, i can’t really see her as a normal sub unless it’s really something languid and drawn-out - she doesn’t really read as someone who spends a lot of energy doing things others will do for her). they’re both definitely into pain and bondage too; morticia conflating arousal with hunger would also be really interesting to see (think praying mantis or lady spider who is actually very invested on not taking off her partner’s head, but who dreams of it all the same. gomez is, of course, very much into it). something lowkey macabre would be amazing.

things i’d like to see for this fandom in general are:

morticia being her stoic vampiric goddess of a self

gomez being completely twitterpatted for her as usual

burning sultry glares/staring across the room

overly passionate hand-kissing

creepy/gothic atmosphere

you know, like canon. (with non-existent or minimal kid existence, though)

references to horror stuff/general creepiness like sudden lightning, casual poisonings and dealings with death, dracula references, etc, like the movies would be super fun, as campy as possible! half the greatness of the movies come from these imho

--

MONSTROUS REGIMENT

i have a confession to make: it’s been a while since i last read it, and so i fear i won’t be as helpful in giving ideas/dynamics for this fandom as i was in the others. 

i have one request - apart from what i’ve already rambled on about above - and that is for at least polly to be portrayed as female (or close enough, although not quite non-binary). to make it clearer: i usually see them both as female, even if not female-presenting (it’s funny because as i was writing this i actually kept writing about maladict as “he” so frankly it’s whatever, i definitely prefer “maladict” to “maladicta” at least in terms of names though) but chaffing to fit the roles that “female” comes along with, especially with maladict and the expectations for female vampires. i’d rather the fic not have gender or sexuality exploration, since like i said above i think it detracts from the meat of the stuff - if you want to see maladict as male, write him male with male pronouns (keeping the female vampire backstory if you’re keeping it canon, otherwise it wouldn’t really make sense). if you want to make her female, write her female with female pronouns. i’d pass on they/them pronouns though. i don’t particularly care either way outside of polly however, just don’t delve into the psyche/introspection of it please.

if you have different views on their genders and it would make you uncomfortable to write female polly or non-they/them maladict, then that’s fine with me as well! these are just my preferences, and i thought i’d elaborate on them since the fandom has many perspectives on this topic. 

with that out of the way, on to more interesting stuff!

what’s good: their interactions. oh dear loki, their interactions. they have my favourite dynamic in the whole book, and they’re weirdly comfortable with each other (especially since polly lowkey threatens maladict after kicking the other dude in the nads, in my view that moment probably got his undead little heart skipping a beat (do vampires have beating hearts on discworld? i haven’t read enough discworld to remember this)) and they understand each other the best out of the rest of the squad. maladict teasing polly and pretending to be cool before polly catches on to him is absolutely hilarious, and i absolutely love maladict trying (and failing!! horribly!!) at being smooth. also polly blackmailing people left and right is absolutely fantastic.

as you can probably guess, i’d love some canon-verse interactions. perhaps alternate scenes or what-ifs of canon events, or even extra scenes during the ongoing plot of the book. OR, post-book, once they have their own squad of little lads and have to figure out how the hell to handle that, or shenanigans where they have some sort of mission or official event elsewhere and resolutely stick together because “if i have to deal with this then so do you”. or some hilarity with maladict desperately going after every coffee grain available so he doesn’t just bury his face on polly’s neck because she smells so good but that would be an awkward conversation to have and he’d rather die (again) than admit to that. 

what else? AUs! feel free to completely tear apart the canon discworld, though i’d request polly remain her ass-kicking clever self and maladict an awkward vampire. maybe maladict has to deal with diaphanous underwired nightgowns. maybe polly has to deal with diaphanous underwired nightgowns. vampire politics? satirical awkward dracula au? maladict failing horribly at being a vampire (failing at being a female vampire or trying to pass at being a male vampire and failing at that, too)? they’re all great! 

what matters to me is their banter and the way they keep falling into pace with each other, regardless of the way they begin. a good dose of sardonical pratchett-style humour would also be welcome ;)

--

thank you so much for staying with me this far! i hope you have a grand time this yuletide, and that you enjoy your own requested fic as well!

[black-emporium-exchange]

2020 Pinch Hit #4, Eissa - CLAIMED

This pinch hit will be due at 12 PM EDT on Friday, September 4th. Please leave a comment on this Dreamwidth post (comments are screened), send a message to one of the mods, or send an email to blackemporiumexchange@gmail.com to claim. Requested relationships:

Female Aeducan/Anora Mac Tir - Fanart, Fanfiction

Belinda Darrow & Maevaris Tilani - Fanart, Fanfiction

Belinda Darrow/Maevaris Tilani - Fanart, Fanfiction

Alistair/Zevran Arainai/Male Surana - Fanart, Fanfiction

Alistair & Zevran Arainai/Male Surana - Fanart, Fanfiction

Isabela/Anora Mac Tir - Fanart, Fanfiction

Female Brosca/Female Cousland - Fanart, Fanfiction

Charter/Tessa Forsythia - Fanart, Fanfiction

Branka/Hespith - Fanart, Fanfiction

Letter:

http://docs.google.com/document/d/1KciTz55keIUgOB5nd_caIFvA9-rH615Ezm4_Ld7kf2Q/edit?usp=sharing

PH 4 - Eissa

Request #1:

Female Aeducan/Anora Mac Tir

Fanart

Fanfiction

I’d love any form of interaction between a Lady Aeducan who stays with the Wardens and a Queen Anora. Character studies, journals/correspondences, plots, smut, politics, vacations from politics, parties, formal Court events, flirting, courting. If you’re doing visuals like the idea of dwarven characters that are rocky and chiseled (physically resembling the Stone) but would be perfectly happy with any kind of character you think appropriate. Would prefer Anora either be unmarried or be married to Lady Aeducan here. Up to you how “out” they are if they’re unmarried and how the Court reacts if they know, as long as the main couple is overall happy. DNW: plots that revolve around miscommunication or jealousy; kidfic; pregnancy fic; incest; non-con; soulmates; a/b/o; background ships involving Cole, Sten, Fenris, Anders, Solas or Varric; watersports, scat, gore, hate-sex, incest, minors, issuefic, mommy/daddy kink, humiliation, bloodplay or non-con. AUs can also be a little tricky. Canon-divergent aus are great. Full fledged different settings are pretty hit-or-miss for me and I prefer not to make changes to the underlying rules of the world as laid out by oficial media.

Request #2:

Belinda Darrow/Maeveris Tilani

Belinda Darrow & Maeveris Tilani

Fanart

Fanfiction

If you send Ser Belinda Darrow (the very cheerful templar from the co-op) on the wartable mission The Tevinter Resistance, Maeveris Tilani sends a scented handkerchief with her thank you note. I’m absolutely tickled with the idea that these two get along swimmingly and beat back the Venatori with style and flash. I’d be perfectly happy with this being a gen fic about friendship, a chance meeting with obvious sparks, an occasional fling, a lifelong correspondence or however else you want to spin it. I do think a true “happily ever after” where they settle down together is unlikely. I also think Dorian or Varic asking Belinda about Maeveris and getting a flustered response or such a forthright response it flusters the asker could be hilarious. It would also be an amazing place for art of the two of them during the attempted Venatori invasion of the Tillani estate. Something with lots of lightning and blue templar pulses. But anything you want to do would be cool. DNW: plots that revolve around miscommunication or jealousy; kidfic; pregnancy fic; incest; non-con; soulmates; a/b/o; background ships involving Cole, Sten, Fenris, Anders, Solas or Varric; watersports, scat, gore, hate-sex, incest, minors, issuefic, mommy/daddy kink, humiliation, bloodplay or non-con. AUs can also be a little tricky. Canon-divergent aus are great. Full fledged different settings are pretty hit-or-miss for me and I prefer not to make changes to the underlying rules of the world as laid out by oficial media.

Request #3:

Alistair/Zevran Arainai/Male Surana

Alistair & Zevran Arainai/Male Surana

Fanart

Fanfiction

I’d really love a setting with interactions between King Alistair and a M!Surana and a romanced Zevran years later, after Surana and Zevran have more gotten comfortable being a couple. I like the idea that Zevran and the Surana vanish for a bit after Origins, either on Warden business or just dodging Crows and Alistair runs back into them years later. (I headcanon my Surana fakes his death at Denerim but I’d like to see your take too.) But it would be totally cool to do a slow-forgiveness to pining to deep friendship or romantic/sexual relationship arc too if they stay in contact. Correspondences, sneaking into a Fereldan court function, taking on a DAI multiplayer style mission for the Inquisition together (with maybe hilarious results), peaceful evenings wherever Surana and Zevran settle, solving mysteries in Denerim, attending a street festival in Antiva in costume (with or without Crow shenanigans), Alistair sneaking off for a vacation with the other two (serious, fluff, silly, whatever tone). Pining, with happy endings. If you go the non-platonic route, I’d prefer either Anora and Alistair have a respectful friendship/partnership with an understanding about sexual/romantic relations with others or she’s not Queen at all. No straight up cheating. DNW: plots that revolve around miscommunication or jealousy; kidfic; pregnancy fic; incest; non-con; soulmates; a/b/o; background ships involving Cole, Sten, Fenris, Anders, Solas or Varric; watersports, scat, gore, hate-sex, incest, minors, issuefic, mommy/daddy kink, humiliation, bloodplay or non-con. AUs can also be a little tricky. Canon-divergent aus are great. Full fledged different settings are pretty hit-or-miss for me and I prefer not to make changes to the underlying rules of the world as laid out by oficial media.

Request #4:

Isabela/Anora Mac Tir

Fanart

Fanfiction

Possible scenarios: Isabela sneaking into a Fereldan court event (either just because or because her friend the Warden Commander is at it); Anora sneaking off to the Pearl; a chance meeting at the Gnawed Noble; a glimpse across the crowded market (and a wink and smile and then Isabela climbs in Anora’s window later?); a Warden who’s on friendly terms with Anora either suggesting Isabela for some underhanded job or just trying to set her friends up. I could also see an argument for a Warden who was friends with Isabela (and probably Zev) and took a liking to Anora but somehow wound up with Alistair on the throne getting ‘bela to rescue Anora from imprisonment, but that might get complicated. Isabela doesn’t bow, Anora isn’t soft, what kind of sparks would the two of them set off? My one qualm here would be that I’d prefer Anora either not be married at the time or have an understanding with her spouse. I’m ok with complicated understandings, or Anora/spouse having complicated reactions to the other’s needs/requests. It doesn’t have to be a glowing, happy, blissful, problem-free understanding. Rocky understandings-in-the-making are fine. Just no straight up cheating knowing the partner will hate it. It’s also ok for her to be Queen alone or just not mention the question either way. DNW: plots that revolve around miscommunication or jealousy; kidfic; pregnancy fic; incest; non-con; soulmates; a/b/o; background ships involving Cole, Sten, Fenris, Anders, Solas or Varric; watersports, scat, gore, hate-sex, incest, minors, issuefic, mommy/daddy kink, humiliation, bloodplay or non-con. AUs can also be a little tricky. Canon-divergent aus are great. Full fledged different settings are pretty hit-or-miss for me and I prefer not to make changes to the underlying rules of the world as laid out by oficial media.

Request #5:

Female Brosca/Female Cousland

Fanart

Fanfiction

I’d love a F!Cousland on the cheerful tomboy side of the scale enjoying an adventure and learning just how not-adventure the world can be by the side of a Brosca lady with a chipper attitude, but a much dirtier past. Anything in tone from happy adventures together to anger/hurt and comfort, anger in return or down-to-earth pep talks. Any rating. DNW: plots that revolve around miscommunication or jealousy; kidfic; pregnancy fic; incest; non-con; soulmates; a/b/o; background ships involving Cole, Sten, Fenris, Anders, Solas or Varric; watersports, scat, gore, hate-sex, incest, minors, issuefic, mommy/daddy kink, humiliation, bloodplay or non-con. AUs can also be a little tricky. Canon-divergent aus are great. Full fledged different settings are pretty hit-or-miss for me and I prefer not to make changes to the underlying rules of the world as laid out by oficial media.

Request #6:

Charter/Tessa Forsythia

Fanart

Fanfiction

I’m pretty open to just about anything here, but some prompts that jump to mind are: flirting by correspondence; happy reunions after a job well done; Tessa coming in with the perfect solution to whatever happens to be the major problem at Skyhold at the moment; Charter giving up and just handing Tessa a complicated problem and saying “I don’t know what to do with this, you fix it” and she does. Basically anything cute or fun or sexy. DNW: plots that revolve around miscommunication or jealousy; kidfic; pregnancy fic; incest; soulmates; a/b/o; background ships involving Cole, Sten, Fenris, Anders, Solas or Varric; watersports, scat, gore, hate-sex, incest, minors, issuefic, mommy/daddy kink, humiliation, bloodplay or non-con. AUs can also be a little tricky. Canon-divergent aus are great. Full fledged different settings are pretty hit-or-miss for me and I prefer not to make changes to the underlying rules of the world as laid out by oficial media.

Request #7:

Branka/Hespith (Dragon Age)

Fanart

Fanfiction

What I’d really like here is “what came before Origins.” How did they meet? Who made the first move? Was one of them reluctant? Was there a period of pining? Does one (or both) keep tokens? Does Branka dispose of them at some point after the Anvil starts making her crazy? What was the dynamic like before the Anvil started calling to Branka? How out are they? How does the nobility look on having lovers and how does Hespith react to being hidden (or looked down on or whatever)? This is the one place where a little jealousy/miscommunication/lying is going to be just about unavoidable. Oghren didn’t know about Hespith, as far as I know. How did they get around him? I also expect this one to be a little dark in places, or have an ominous/bittersweet tone. DNW: kidfic; pregnancy fic; incest; soulmates; a/b/o; background ships involving Cole, Sten, Fenris, Anders, Solas or Varric; watersports, scat, gore, hate-sex, incest, minors, issuefic, mommy/daddy kink, humiliation, bloodplay or non-con. AUs can also be a little tricky. Canon-divergent aus are great. Full fledged different settings are pretty hit-or-miss for me and I prefer not to make changes to the underlying rules of the world as laid out by oficial media.