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just-dreaming-marvel · 1 month ago

Text

A Princess & Her Knight ~ 6

A PRINCESS & HER KNIGHT MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,635ish

Summary: You get told your new schedule.

Notes: It's shorter chapter. Just trying to get into the swing of writing this series again.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Your father immediately put someone at the entrance of your passageway the moment you returned home. Anna Marie had gone straight to the King once Logan and Bobby had gone to fetch you.

“Y/N has got to understand that her actions have consequences, especially at a time like this,” Charles stated, Logan and Scott standing in front of his desk. “I am doing my best to lessen the consequences, but the court is insistent that she be reminded of what a true princess is to act like. Starting tomorrow, Jean will be teaching Y/N how to act like a Princess and a Queen.”

“The Princess will not like that,” Logan commented.

“You will make sure that she is to every lesson on time. My sister, Cassandra, will also be helping with Y/N’s lessons.”

“You cannot be serious. Cassandra?”

“Logan, not now,” Scott warned.

“No! Cassandra has been undermining the Princess at every turn and has gotten away with it.”

“I understand your concern,” Charles responded. “But my sister is knowledgeable about the skills and dispositions Y/N will need to be a successful queen.”

Logan’s jaw clenched as he kept himself from continuing the argument. It was no use. Charles’ mind was made up.

“What else can we help with, Your Majesty?” Scott asked.

“We need to double the knights around the castle,” answered the King. “Find every secret passageway entrance and exit and make sure someone is there. The Princess mustn’t be out of someone’s line of sight. That also means that a guard must be placed in her room every night.”

“I’ll do it,” Logan immediately offered.

“You will be with her during the day. It is not feasible—“

“You cannot expect the Princess to trust just random men in her room as she sleeps. And you cannot act like there isn’t concern that someone might do something.”

“Our men are all honorable,” Scott defended.

Logan scoffed. “They hold an honorable front, but the second eyes are off of them they are doing what they see fit. You have not heard what the men have said about the Princess behind closed doors.”

“You need your own rest, Logan,” Charles said.

“If I do fall asleep, I’m a light sleeper. Plus, you said that there will be more guards outside the room.”

Charles took a moment to think about it before responding. “Fine. I will allow it. This will all start tomorrow. I expect my daughter here in my office as soon as breakfast is over.”

~~~

You knew something was up when Bobby was the one to greet you in the morning and guide you to breakfast. You questioned him but he wouldn’t give you any answers. After breakfast you were led to your father’s office, which only made you grow more concerned. You stepped into your father’s office and immediately felt the shift in the air. Jean is there, standing beside the desk with a ledger in hand. Cassandra sat composedly in one of the chairs. Logan was at the window, arms crossed and posture rigid.

“Y/N, my child, please sit down,” your father requested, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk.

You obeyed but didn’t hide your frown. Your eyes flickered over to Logan, seeking some kind of answer, but he refused to meet your gaze.

“The court is concerned, and frankly, so am I,” your father continued. “What happened in the village yesterday cannot be ignored. I know you needed space, but running off is not the way. As of today, you’ll begin formal instruction on court protocol and royal presentation. Jean will oversee it. Cassandra will assist.” You continued to remain silent, trying not to explode.

Jean stepped forward, calm but firm. “We’ll begin with etiquette, history, and formal speech. You’ve always been sharp, Y/N. But you must be prepared to carry yourself like a queen.“

You looked back at your father, feeling the weight of his disappointment. “I never wanted to disappoint anyone,” you admitted.

“I know,” your father responded. “But your choices have gotten out of hand. From now on, you’ll be escorted to your lessons each day by either Logan, Scott, or Bobby. And, to ensure that you remain in your chambers at night, Logan will stay with you.”

“What?”

Logan shifted. “This isn’t a punishment, Princess,” he tried to ease your anger. “It’s protection.” You shot him a look— one of betrayal and disbelief.

“It’s time you step up and stop acting like a child,” Cassandra added.

“Your lessons start in ten minutes in the drawing room near your room,” your father said. “You may go.”

You stood up and left quickly, when Logan on your tail.

“Princess,” he tried.

“Just drop it, Logan,” you replied, already sounding broken down.

“I—“

You roughly spun around. “I don’t want to hear an excuse. Especially from you. Did you even try to fight for me?”

“I’m just a Knight.”

“Yes, but you’re my Knight, right? You’re sworn to protect me. Does that not include from things like these?”

“You don’t understand—“

“No, Sir Howlett, you don’t understand. I am now to become what I’ve always feared, a perfectly caged bird. I thought I had a week left! I thought—“ You shook your head, swallowing down the rest of your words. “Never mind. It’s not worth wasting my energy fighting with you anymore when I will need to to deal with Jean and Cassandra.”

“Y/N—“

“Drop it. That’s an order.”

~~~

Jean was waiting at the threshold of one of the smaller drawing rooms. Cassandra was already seated at a round table near the windows, her posture rigid, her expression unreadable.

“We’re starting gently today,” Jean told you. “You’ve had a lot placed on your shoulders this morning.”

You kept quiet, giving her a simple nod. You took the chair farthest from your aunt while Logan remained near the door. Jean opened her leather-bound folder and began to lay out parchment, ink, and a small stack of reading material.

“We’ll been with diplomatic speech and formal address,” Jean explained. “How to navigate conversations in court, both here and abroad.”

“I’ve already had those lessons,” you stated.

“It’s a necessary start,” Cassandra retorted, “considering how easily your temper overtook you during court last time.”

“I wasn’t aware that honesty disqualified me from leadership.”

“There is a different between honesty and impulse, my dear niece.”

“Let’s keep our focus on growth,” Jean interjected, “not judgment.”

You say nothing, but Logan noticed your hands tightening into fists. Jean pushed a parchment toward you. It had a list of formal titles and opening courtesies used with dignitaries.

“Why don’t you try greeting me as if I were a visiting Queen?” Jean suggested.

You scanned the page briefly before looking up. “Queen Jean of Norwood, I welcome you to our court and to the heart of our kingdom,” you spoke steadily. “May your visit be peaceful.”

Jean smiled. “Very good.”

“Stiff,” scoffed Cassandra. “Over-rehearsed. It sounded memorized, not genuine.”

“That’s because it is,” you retorted. “This is the first time I’m reading any of this.”

“A real queen must make grace seem effortless.”

You held back your initial angry response and took a breath. “I don’t think it’s grace if you have to be told exactly how to do it.”

“There is value in both instinct and training,” Jean jumped in. “You already carry presence. We’re just refining it— helping others see what we already know.”

~~~

Logan watched as the first lesson took everything out of you. He could tell that you were trying to get in your father’s good graces again, not that you had actually fallen. And that you were trying to put your best foot forward. But your aunt kept focusing on everything she felt you were doing wrong. Logan was watching your fight and light dim with each passing second.

Now, hours later, the castle was quiet. The last rays of sunlight filtered in through your chamber windows as you sat at the small table buy the hearth, staring blanket at a book Jean wanted you to read. You hadn’t turned the page in at least fifteen minutes. You gown had been exchanged for a simpler robe. You hadn’t spoken much since the lesson.

Logan stood near the door. His arms were folded across his chest as his eyes watched you with great concern. There was something weighing on your mind, most likely the new terms you were to live by.

“You should rest,” Logan urged.

You didn’t answer right away. Just gently closed the book, placing it aside. “If I sleep now, I’ll wake up just to do it all over again.”

Logan shifted from foot to foot, debating if he should say what he was thinking. “Cassandra wasn’t fair. She wasn’t there to help you. She was there to test you. And not in any way that’s meant to build anything.”

You sighed. “I know I’m not perfect… that I’m too outspoken and free willed. But I guess I never thought that my father would allow something like this to happen.”

“They’re afraid of change. That’s why they’re pushing this on you. Of a queen heir, instead of a king.”

You nodded, knowing that there was truth to his words. “You really have to spend the night in here?”

“It’s either me or someone else and, frankly Princess, I don’t trust many of the other Knights for this job.”

You understood the underlying meaning of his words and nodded once again. “Thank you, Logan.”

He didn’t respond at first. Just moved to the chair by the door and lowered himself into it with a quiet exhale.

“Try to rest,” he urged again. “Tomorrow’s a new lesson.”

You went over to your bed and climbed in. “Logan?”

“Yes, Princess?”

“Don’t let them change me.”

“I won’t.”

next chapter >

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dilfartist · 8 months ago

Note

Lady dimitrescue x fem reader? I'll go w anything 👀

Replacement

Word count; 891

TW; mentions of death, blood mentioned, vampire things, not very yandere but there was an attempt.

A maids sent to Lady Dimitrescu’s chambers was a death sentence.

All maids knew this unspoken rule. Many walked on eggshells, dreading being dispatched to the Mistress’s room. You followed their footsteps, tip-toeing around the eggshells they’d walk on: If another maid cleaned in a way one of the young Dimitrescu disapproved of, you’d do the opposite to have their favor.

However, not even you can avoid calamity. Now, you saunter through empty halls, your heart throbbing in your chest with every step. The aches in your chest caused your anxiety to spike. If your mistress didn’t kill you, your heart exploding in your chest would.

You weren’t the perpetrator, yet the crime had been pinned on you. Your only fault was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

During the night, it is expected of maids to participate in a cleaning task before they proceed to their headquarters. Your task this night: cleaning the kitchen. You went to the kitchen wielding a mop, spray, and a few multicolored rags.

Inside the kitchen stood two other maids. They giggled together, one clutching a wine bottle, the other holding a glass full to her lips. It was clear they had been drinking. You could care less, so you simply passed by them and began to clean the mess they created.

They merely glanced at you, then returned to their drinking. For a while, the kitchen filled with laughter and playful hushes. Then suddenly, it was quiet.

“She did it!”

Now, both women stood up, hands by their sides, and the wine bottles elsewhere.

The accusation reverbed throughout the silent kitchen. You stood still in place, your whole body began quivering like a leaf caught in the autumn winds. Your mind urged you to deny the accusal sputtered from the lips of the two lying witches responsible for your expected demise, but your lips forbade your commands to move.

One of the three daughters of Lady Dimitrescu, Cassandra, to be exact, watched the scene unfold, calm compared to the others in the situation. Identical to her mother, she stood tall, just as intimidating despite the unmistakable difference in height. Still, her presence alone caused the tingle of fear to spread throughout your body.

Cassandra tilts her head, almost like a small child, a smile spreading across her blood-caked lips. “Really?” she inquired playfully.

“Yes, ma'am! We came in to clean the kitchen and found her with the bottle in her hands.” The maid’s hands shook as she choked out the rest of her tale. “L-Look! She even has stains on them!”

Lo and behold: marron taints both your maid attire and hands. However, it wasn’t due to you sneaking wine but instead from cleaning the bottles scattered around the floor.

“Ah, I see,” Casandra noted. She began to circle around you like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. “Mother won’t be too happy. Our wine is valuable.” she slightly sang the last part. It disturbed you.

You stood in front of the entrance to your mistress’s chambers. You could almost hear Casandra’s words reverberating in your head. Raising a shaky hand, your hand gently thumped against one of the doors.

“Enter.” a posh voice called out.

Entering as told, you were a church mouse and barely made a noise. Alicia sat in her armchair adjacent to her bed, facing the fireplace as embers aroused and the wood crackled and popped! Smoke slithered into the air from her lengthy cigarette holder, Alicia taking a long huff before exempting the smoke through her nose.

“My lady,” you attempted to speak up, only to sound like a meek child. Bowing your head, you stared at your shoes.

The stitches were a lovely pattern- had you ever noticed such a minor detail before? And the leather needed a shine-.

“I’ve been told you’ve tampered with my wine. Is that so?” Her voice carried an authority that made your hands clammy. You licked your bottom lip, eyes traveling to the wood floors. “Look at me when I speak to you.” She stood from her chair, inching closer as her eyes pierced yours. Her voice boomed with her command.

“I-I...” your voice trembled, “the other maids are responsible.”

“Is that so? Then why are your hands stained.” her last words were said short and with emphasis.

This was it. You thought. You’d die in this castle from your mistress, and you hadn’t done anything to deserve such a fate.

“Come.” She demanded.

Your body moved before you could think right. Your legs wobbled as you followed Alicia's command. “I will take back what you’ve stolen.”

Alicia closes the distance between you in one stride. She snatches the back of your maid attire. In an instant, you dangle in the air, Alicia now face to face with you. Her other hand reaches your chin and angles it. Showing the preferred side.

She quickly latches her fangs into your neck like two needles. Her fangs begin to spill blood into the opening of her mouth, the warm liquid flowing down her tongue.

After she takes her fill, she drops you to the ground. She laps at the remaining blood coating her dark lips, letting out a hum of satisfaction.

“Your blood is too good to go to waste,” Alicia states with fulfillment. “I think I’ll keep you for a while.”

#yandere resident evil #resident evil x reader #lady dimitrescu #yandere lady dimitrescu #dilfartist #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere resident evil 8 #resident evil fanfiction #yandere themes

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bigmacari · 4 months ago

Note

Rottmnt cassandra Jones x shy scientist gn reader headcannons please?

*ੈ✩·₊˚*ੈ✩·₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩·₊˚*ੈ✩·₊˚

Cassandra Jones x Shy! Scientist! Gn Reader

Romantic Headcanons

☆Warning(s) Mention of being anxious, weapons, and death. (The warnings make it sound much worst than it is 😭)

☆Author Note(s) AHHH my first request, kinda nervous so please forgive me if it's not up to expectations !

*ੈ✩·₊˚*ੈ✩·₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩·₊˚*ੈ✩·₊˚

This gif is so cute

☆ Very golden retriever and black cat energy here.

☆ When your tickering or inventing something, Cassandra will kinda circle around you excitedly and ask a bunch of questions. You try to answer them but you don't really think she comprehends it before hurriedly moving to the next one.

Especially if its something that you're making for her or a weapon of some sort.

☆ She's is also very creative. Your on a scientific block? She has a million ideas already stored in her head.

☆ Cassandra is one to touch everything in your lab, sometimes you have to gently pry the tool or invention out of her hands. Give her something to fidget with and she'll be fine.

Perfect person to test out anything you build. She's an adrenaline junky and doesn't mind getting hurt if it means she gets to hold a cool "technology thingy" as she puts it.

If you are working with chemicals, please just keep her out. There will be something spilt, broken, or exploded. You'd rather not die from deadly chemical reactions, trust me.

☆ When she does break something of hers, you're the first one she comes too. I imagine Cassandra breaking one of her bosses high technology shit once and you were the only one that could help. I guess helping criminals is a little unmoral, but Cassandra was desperate to prove that she can live up to the Foot Clans expectations. And with the look she was giving you, how could you say no?

After that, she kinda realized that you were the coolest person ever. (Her way of saying that she's starting to catch feelings lmao)

☆ You want to show your inventions or research off? She's your number one supporter. If someone isn't listening or disrespectful, and your too anxious to tell them to shut up, Cassandra is already ten steps ahead. She'll tackle the fucker if she has too.

"SHUT UP YOU LOWLY CRETAN!!"

☆ When you confessed to her, you wanted to make something special. Put some technology on the hockey stick she calls a weapon? Cassandra is down bad.

Imagine you've spent days working on different technological upgrades for her hockey stick. (Almost like how Donnies bo staff is.) You pick a cute spot on the roof of your apartment complex and tell her to meet you there. With a obviously (not so obvious for Cassandra) flustered face and trembling hand, you hand her the hockey stick.

She. Is. So. Excited.

Immediately testing it out, no questions asked. Accidentally blows something up from the exploding hockey pucks you made. Ya'll spend until sun rise testing and exploring the new functions.

As the sun comes up, your both sitting on top of the roof and staring at the sunrise. A cold sweat gathers on your forehead as you fidget with your hands. You take a deep breath and tell her how you feel.

She's star struck, immediately claims that you will both be the most powerful couple ever. Sounds intimidating, but Cassandra means well.

☆ Overall, she might be a hazard to the lab, but never you. Cassandra gets that your shy and tries her best to get you out of your comfort zone when it comes to your work. Wants you to succeed, especially since your her amazing partner.

*ੈ✩·₊˚*ੈ✩·₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩·₊˚*ੈ✩·₊˚

☆ !REQUESTS OPEN! ☆

*ੈ✩·₊˚*ੈ✩·₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩·₊˚*ੈ✩·₊˚

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #cassandra jones x reader #rottmnt x reader #science #shy #gn reader #x reader

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hedgiwithapen · 9 months ago

Note

dhd prompt: eliot leverage and jacob librarians are dopplegangers. somehow they swap places, causing much confusion and hilarity.

(liberties were taken with the prompt) “We really think this Agrinext company’s using magic that’s killing bees? And that’s our priority?” Eve asked. Jenkins gave her a dour look from behind the Clippingsbook.

“Unless you’d rather deal with the doppelganger infestation, yes, Colonel, the company killing bees with a loose magical artifact--or worse-- is the priority.”

Cassandra opened her mouth. Eve winced, knowing she was about to get a patented Cassie Lecture about the interconnectedness of all creatures, etc etc, and cut it off at the pass. “Right. Bees. Okay, then. Fire up the back door."

They split up. They always did; Eve had decided it was inevitable and tried not to fight fate quite so hard on that particular matter. Jones headed for the server rooms, Cassandra was going to the research and Development area to scan the various chemical compounds with her mind, or...however exactly it was she figured things out. Eve was still a little afraid that if she asked for clarification, she'd get an explanation that would (possibly literally) explode her brain. Stone was supposed to be on distraction, with her.

And he was. Standing with a dark haired woman and speaking to a receptionist. Looking a lot like he was Flirting with the receptionist. Eve moved towards him to scold him for wasting valuable time when she spotted...what was Flynn doing here?

"Flynn!" she called, locking eyes with him. Flynn scurried over.

"Hello!" he said, beaming right into her face. "That's me, Flynn."

Eve took a step back. He wasn't standing right. " Who are you?" she demanded.

"I'm... Flynn." He paused. "Ryder? My associates are--"

"Oh, god," she grumbled. "You don't know me."

"I'm sorry," Flynn said. "I... hit my head recently..."

Eve got on the coms. "Gang, circle back. Whatever this artifact is, it's done something to Flynn."

"Since when is Flynn even here?" Ezekiel whined. "Fine, I'm coming."

The con had been going very smoothly. Of course, when a con was going very smoothly was about the point where suddenly it went very smoothly right off the rails, and into a trash can, which was usually on fire. At least this time, Hardison thought, no one was throwing him into a pool.

Of course, getting caught breaking into the CEO's office was still bad, especially with a company like Agrinext. Two armed goons--and it was a seed company! Why did they have goons! It was worse than Wakefield!-- blocked both of his exits, and Hardison was not feeling too great about his ability to jump through a window without breaking all of his bones.

"Put the hard drive down," one of the goons said. "Slowly."

Hardison was moving to do exactly that, not taking any chances with the gun pointed at him, when he spotted a familiar face over Goon number 2's shoulder, and breathed a sigh of relief. " It's about time you got here to save my ass," he said.

Eliot actually froze in place for a second before Goon 2 turned the gun on him and he threw himself at the fight. Hardison ducked back while Eliot took out the two guards.

"Lil sloppy," Hardison said to his panting boy friend. "I like the new moves though. Some Wuxia in there. Don't tell me you've been watching without me and Parker." When Eliot frowned, Hardison took another step back. He may have mocked his boyfriend being able to tell a violist from a cellist based only on finger calluses and vibes, but some things really were Distinctive, and this guy--this guy wearing Eliot's face--was not Eliot. "What in the hell kinda mirrorverse did you pop through?" he asked.

"I didn't. Why are you breaking into the CEO's office?"

"I," Hardison said, "Am trying to save the bees." he paused. " And also, you know. Take down a corrupt executive who was profiting off colony collapse caused by weird pesticides."

"It's not the pesticides," not-Eliot said. "It's the stelea of Ah Muzen Cab."

"The what of the who now?" Hardison asked.

"Mayan god of many, many things, including bees."

"Uh-huh." Hardison said. " Kay. You look like my boyfriend and you're acting a little crazy so I am just gonna take this and... go. Thanks for the punching."

Ezekiel leaned closer to the hidden door in the server room, listening for the latch mechanism as he poked and prodded. He closed his eyes, steadying his heartbeat. One--two... should be three more pins, and--

"Boo!" a voice hissed in his ear as someone dropped from the ceiling to land next to him.

He turned, ready to smack whoever it was with the nearest weapon--which would have been his phone-- but stopped when he saw the blonde hair and the maniac brightness in her eyes.

"Parker?" he asked.

"Zekie!" she beamed. "Look at you! All grown up and cracking safes! You've almost got that one."

"I do have this one," he said, flatly. "I'm the world's greatest thief."

She booped his nose, just like when they'd been kids in the same foster home. "Second greatest, maybe. How's the gig?"

"It's pretty good," he said. "I have a good team. Yours?"

"Solid. Two newbies need some work, but they're getting it. Reminds me of teaching you."

"Excuse me? I already knew how to crack a safe when we met."

"And yet you couldn't tell I'd already gotten into that one. Sad." Parker smiled again.

"You already stole the artifact?" Ezekiel asked. " Parker, I need that."

"Then you should have beaten me to it. It's gotta be worth a lot, to be kept so secret, and if the company's smuggling ... Guatemalan?-- antiquities, we can use that for blackmail."

"It's not an antiquity," Ezekiel said. "It's dangerous." He pressed his lips together. Eve would say not to tell anyone, Jenkins would rail about the importance of secrets. But Parker was like a sister--and she's helped him out from under MI6's thumb. "It's magic," he said, waiting for her to laugh.

"Oh," Parker said. "Neat. Hmmm... I'll trade you for it, then."

"Fine, Ezekiel said. "What do you want for it?" He had plenty of stolen--borrowed--sparklies, plus one of her pokemon cards from when they were kids...

"I heard a rumor you nabbed the dagger of Aquabi," Parker beamed, handing over the tablet she'd swiped. "Give it."

Ezekiel made a face. "Fine. Usual drop off, tomorrow."

"Good to see you, little brother," Parker said, and dove for the airvents as an alarm started to wail. Ezekiel grumbled again, heading for his own exit.

"Stone? There you are." Eliot turned. Stone was a name he'd used a few times, but not today.

"Sorry," he said, turning on the charm as the redhead beamed at him. "I think you have me confused with someone else."

"That's... not right," she said. "You look...." and then she started muttering under her breath, fingers flickering in front of her like she was shifting through information. It reminded him a little of Parker, and a little of Hardison. "Just like him but you're not him. I'm sorry. My bad."

"That's alright. You know, they say we've all got seven doubles."

"They do," she said, oddly flat. Eliot turned to look where she was looking, and froze.

He wondered, a time or two, or three, if he was being honest, what he'd do if ever he saw his own face on someone else. It hadn't been that litteral, as a kid, which was the last time he'd thought about it. What he'd do if he recognized the mirror of his smile, his eyes, the crease above his brow when he frowned. He'd looked for it in older people, not his age. Someone old enough to be the person who'd left him.

This man looked like he could have been left in the basket beside him.

"who are you?" they both asked in the same voice, at the same time, before an alarm started to blare.

Well. Eliot had carried questions as long as he'd known the difference between knowing and not. He could carry them longer. Getting his people out mattered more.

"Jenkins," Eve said, back in the Annex. "What were you saying earlier, before we left? About clones?"

"Doppelgangers, actually," Jenkins said. "Why?"

"Because I found one of Flynn," Eve said, holding up a bewildered look-alike.

Jenkins frowned. " That's impossible. I fixed the issue moments after you left, it was really quite simple."

"Then someone kidnapped Flynn and stole his memories!" Eve said.

"That's news to me," Flynn said, leaning over the raining from the stacks. " Hi Eve! Who's that?"

"Oh my god," Eve said again, as reality--actual reality-- sunk in. "I just kidnapped a civilian."

"If it helps I don't think I'm technically a civilian. Harry Wilson, lawyer and, uh... you know lets just stick with lawyer, actually. Uh. not the suing you kind, though. I just...really should get going? maybe? If I can... just..." he wiggled out from under Eve's hand.

Above, Flynn hooted with laughter.

#Dammit Hedgi Day #Dammit Hedgi Day 2024 #The Librarians #Leverage Redemption #Leverage

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bluejaysandblackbats · 5 months ago

Text

Keepsafes

Fandom: Batman, DC Comics

Summary: AU where Martha and Thomas survive, and they adopt the batkids.

Chapters: 25/?

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Harvey Dent, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, David Cain, Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Relationships: Thomas Wayne/Martha Wayne/Alfred Pennyworth, BruHarvey, BruTalia

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Angst, Alfred Pennyworth Knows All, Bruce Wayne Only Has One Child, Bruce Wayne is Not An Only Child, Bi Bruce Wayne, Unsafe for Work

Chapter Twenty-Six: Reunion

Bruce refused to leave Belgium, so Martha, Alfred, and Thomas decided to stay in Belgium until his semester ended. Thomas didn’t mind because his term as mayor ended shortly before, and he wanted to be with his family. He stayed in the place his parents rented, so Thomas could keep an eye on him. There was only one problem. Harvey wouldn’t go home. “Harvey, you can’t afford to miss this many classes… And what about Gilda?” Bruce asked.

“We got into an argument a few days before I left… And we broke up,” Harvey answered matter-of-factly. Bruce huffed at him. “It wasn’t about you.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bruce questioned.

“No,” Harvey replied.

Bruce shrugged it off and tried not to seem too disappointed. “What about this semester?” Bruce asked.

“I’m gonna take the bar when I get home, but I want to spend this time making sure you’re okay,” Harvey replied.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Bruce chuckled, “I’m going back to class tomorrow.”

“Bruce, you can’t—.”

“Don’t worry. I’m planning on testing out of this semester since I was incapacitated for the past few weeks. My father insists on joining me to make sure I don’t suddenly expire,” Bruce laughed.

Harvey chuckled and silence fell over the two of them. “I missed you,” Harvey whispered as he touched the foot of Bruce’s bed. Bruce shook his head.

“We shouldn’t,” Bruce replied.

“You don’t want to?” Harvey asked. Bruce sighed.

“I didn’t say that. If you say the words… If you give me any concrete response… Harvey, I can’t resist you. I should try, but I can’t. I know that I want you, and it’s going to be messy and emotional, and I—.”

“We don’t have to make love… Maybe this once we can just fuck,” Harvey whispered. His voice was desperate and broken. Bruce could feel the heat in the air as he listened to his heart beating in his ears. A heavy stillness was weighing them in place, and Harvey chewed his lip as his chest heaved up and down, waiting for an answer.

Meanwhile, Martha sat on the balcony watching people walk by. “Hello, darling. Are you cold?” Alfred asked.

“No. I’m not cold. I’m fine,” Martha answered. Her voice seemed far away. “I knew Bruce would be fine… I don’t know, but I—. I felt calm when I saw him in that hospital bed. Like maybe—. I know it sounds awful, but I was relieved that it happened. I felt like I could say, ‘Finally. We’re free from the fear. It happened. The worst thing happened… And he’s fine.’ Do you understand?”

Alfred put his jacket over her shoulders. “I’m afraid that I do,” Alfred answered.

“You understand, but you don’t agree?” Martha asked.

“I think it’s done the opposite for Thomas and me,” Alfred whispered.

Thomas paced through the room, and he cursed. “I can’t find my wallet. I can’t find anything… And I—. I—.”

“Thomas, honey… Are you feeling cagey?” Martha called out. “Do you want to spend time with my brother?”

“I don’t like your brother,” Thomas snapped.

“Okay… But you like Kate and Bethie,” Martha replied. It didn’t bother her that they didn’t get along. “Do you want to spend time with Kate and Bethie?”

“I can’t go anywhere without my wallet, sweetie,” Thomas answered. Martha returned Alfred’s jacket before heading inside and pulling Thomas’ wallet out of her purse.

“You asked me to hold it for you. Look at me. You have got to unwind. Your head is going to explode if you don’t take a breath. I’m gonna call Jake and Gabi and see if you can take the girls to the ballet tonight,” Martha whispered as she held his face in her hands. “You love ballet.”

Thomas softened and nodded. “That’s a great idea,” Thomas whispered.

Martha kissed him. “You’re so cute. Take our nieces to the ballet,” Martha whispered, “And when you get back… If you still have energy, we could play a little ice cream man.” Thomas kissed the top of her head.

“You’re going to make me blush,” Thomas whispered as he looked over her head.

“We’ve been married for a quarter of a century, and you still blush when I talk about blowjobs,” Martha laughed. Thomas stifled a laugh. Alfred shut the curtains to the balcony, and he joined in on the fun. Martha and Alfred loved teasing Thomas because he was always such a good sport, and he looked so sweet when he was embarrassed. “Do you feel better, schmoopy?” Thomas laughed and nodded.

Bruce grunted as Harvey thrust inside him and kissed his neck. “Slower, slower,” Bruce whispered as he held Harvey’s face in his hands.

“Does something hurt?” Harvey whispered as he adjusted the pillow under Bruce’s back. Bruce shook his head. “Want me to touch somewhere different?” Bruce shook his head once more. “What’s wrong? Hm? Was I too rough, baby?” Harvey pressed a few sweet kisses to Bruce’s cheek. “Huh, baby?”

“I was about to cum,” Bruce chuckled as Harvey slowly started to grind into Bruce.

“Did you sleep with anyone while we were apart?” Harvey questioned before he returned to Bruce’s neck.

“Don’t do that. Not now,” Bruce whispered.

“Do you want me to stop?” Harvey asked.

“I don’t want to talk about other people. Can’t you just—?” He kissed Harvey and the thrusting started up again. Faster and deeper. Bruce moaned louder than he expected to, and Harvey shushed him.

“Do you think our parents can hear us?” Harvey whispered.

Bruce turned the TV on and up, letting Harvey thrust deeper and deeper into him. Bruce bit down on his lip, and Harvey kissed his shoulder. “I missed—. I missed you,” Bruce panted. Harvey nodded as their foreheads touched, and he moaned into Bruce’s open mouth.

“Fuck, Bruce. Say it again. Say you missed me,” Harvey whispered. Bruce craned his neck to kiss him. “Please say it. Please… Say you want me.”

Bruce groaned as he tried to push the words out. “I need you. Don’t stop. I missed you so much. I missed you. Fuck,” Bruce whimpered as Harvey came. He offered a few more thrusts until Bruce came onto the towel over his stomach. Bruce looked up at the painted bedroom ceiling as Harvey rolled off him.

“About my question earlier… Did you—?”

Bruce covered his eyes. “I was on a date when it happened. Before we got to the club, she took me to the bathroom, and we had sex standing up in one of the stalls. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Bruce sighed. “Or do you want to hear the important stuff? Like how hard it was to get to the point where I could screw someone else? Or how I wanted to cry when I heard you talking to me in the hospital because I wanted you to know I was listening?”

“You could hear me?” Harvey asked.

“Bits and pieces… I think you wanted me to say something… But I don’t have any concrete memories up until Dad spoke to me,” Bruce answered, “And please, Harv… Can we just enjoy whatever this is right now? It’s weird and uncomfortable and hot, but it’s the best we’ve got for right now.”

“You’re right,” Harvey whispered.

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superprincesspea · 1 year ago

Text

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 12 - Storm Chaser

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

The day truly began with the arrival of a scroll.

You were sitting to breakfast, and your sisters hurried to receive it, while you lingered in the background, spreading damson jam onto a slice of toasted bread.

You expected the scroll to be another invitation from Helaena, yet as Maris brought it to the table, you could see that the wax seal was black, embossed with the same Targaryen sigel as your note from Aemond.

In fact, the only difference between the scroll you’d received last night, and the one delivered this morning, was the name written across the front.

Maris Baratheon.

You get an instant bad feeling, which is only made worse by the look on her face as she unfurls the scroll, and a handkerchief flutters to the ground.

"Your favour!” Cassandra exclaims, bending quickly to retrieve it, and she’s right. It is Maris’ favour.

Bright golden marigolds are still delicately stitched into the shape of a heart, but the fabric is pristine, as though it’s been carefully laundered to remove all trace of human touch.

You can’t help but think of your own favour, dusty and ruined, but held so fiercely in Aemond’s hand.

“What does it say?” Cassandra asks, leaning in to look, but Maris shifts away so she can read in silence, her eyes quickly scanning the words, her brow creasing with every passing moment.

This can’t be good, you think, and your toast slips onto your plate, as you try to imagine what had been going through Aemond’s mind when he’d put pen to parchment this morning.

Asking for Maris’ favour had been bad enough, returning it was a thousand times worse.

Did he really know nothing when it came to women?

After her second read through of the scroll, Maris scrunches it lightly in her hand before laughing sharply and smoothing it back out to read a quote.

“Prince Aemond wants to ‘ thank’ me for my favour, and for being a ‘ dear friend to Helaena. ’ But does not wish for me to think he had ‘ any intentions’ beyond ‘honouring a friendship’ with his sister . ”

There is a long pause. An uncomfortable pause.

All those books and he really did know nothing .

“I’m so sorry, sister,” Cassandra console’s gently, reaching to offer a compassionate hand for Maris’ shoulder. But Maris explodes before Cassandra can touch her, thrusting the parchment into your face.

“This is all your fault!”

“My... fault ?” you stutter, feeling that it is, in fact, all your fault though not for the reasons she believes. You’d told him not to toy with her, but you hadn’t told him to do this .

“You are always so rude to him! To everyone! Is it any wonder nobody likes you?” she pauses, tears streaking her cheeks and, perhaps she’s wondering if she’s gone too far, yet she doesn’t stop.

“You didn’t even bother to come to the hall last night. Did you even bother to give him the remedy? Or was that too much to ask when all you’ve done all summer is hide in your room?”

“I gave it to him,” you say, your voice no more than a whisper as you try to ignore the sting of her words.

“And then what?” she demands.

You look at Cassandra, hoping for a port in the storm, but she’s waiting for your answer with as much interest as Maris.

So, you shrug and pick up your knife to add even more jam to your toast, though you can’t imagine eating it now. What you really need is time to think, to decide what to say, because what happened after you gave him the remedy will really make her mad.

Still, it is the truth, so you say it as plainly as you can without going into too much detail, or mentioning the part where Aemond had threatened every man in court who had any interest in pursuing your hand.

“I gave his grace the remedy... and the queen asked if I might stay a while to keep him company. So we had a glass of wine and played a game of Cyvasse.”

“You. Played. Cyvasse? And you did not think to tell me this until now? ” she waves the parchment around in the air as though it is a weapon, and the look of betrayal is clear on her face. But you’re growing tired of protecting her feelings from the truth.

Maris was not the only person in this family.

What of your feelings?

What of your torment these past few weeks?

You straighten yourself in the chair, meeting her temper with more steel in your voice, “I was sleeping when you returned last night, and what difference would it make? It was just a game, it had nothing to do with you and, to be perfectly honest, I think you would hate every moment of Aemond’s company if you spent any amount of time actually speaking to him.”

“We have spoken,” she says defensively, but polite conversation was not real conversation.

You stand, scoffing, “then you must know he is insanely arrogant, ridiculously competitive, completely insensitive and possesses not an ounce of chivalry. He spends almost all his free time reading, which you hate, playing Cyvasse, which you also hate, and regarding everyone at court as though they are complete idiots.”

She tilts her head, her eyes narrowed as though she has come to some fresh conclusion, “are you certain you’re not describing yourself, sister ?”

“I am nothing like him!”

“Maybe you just want him for yourself then? Is that it? Was that your plan all along?”

You gasp, more than a little dumbfounded by the accusation, “are you even listening to me?”

“Yes, and you seem to know an awful lot about a man you claim you do not like.”

Clenching your hands into tight balls, you’re annoyed that Maris is right.

You do know him; far more than you would want to know a man you despise as much as you despise Aemond Targaryen. But, more than anything, you’re annoyed that anyone could think, even for one moment, that you would ever desire him!

Yet , it’s your tone which now sounds defensive, "first you say I’m ruining your chances by being rude to him, now you’re saying I’m trying to steal him from you? Which one is it? Why don’t you decide before I tell you how stupid this entire conversation is.”

At that, you abandon your breakfast, your sisters, and your cloak, as you head towards the door and tear it open, leaving it to swing on its hinges in your haste to get away.

Seven Hells! You scream internally as you storm through the halls, the skirts of your dress kicking up with every stride as though they are trying to trip you.

You hardly thought it was possible to hate Aemond any more than you already did, yet you feel as though you could tear him limb from limb as you make your way towards the gardens, seeking refuge in the long willowy stems of the blooms.

But, like everything else in this cursed Red Keep, all you find is disappointment, as the first careful drops of rain hit the ground while dark clouds gather for as far as the eye can see.

Knowing you should turn back, you press on. Hurrying along the gravel path to where a small stone folly is nestled among the fading summer roses.

It isn’t much, but it's enough to provide temporary shelter as the rain turns into a downpour. The promise of thunderstorms crackling in the humidity.

You’ve never longed for home more than you do right now. Even if Storms End had sometimes felt like a prison with her tall, dark walls; her dusty corridors had never felt quite so desolate as the bustling halls of the Red Keep.

If you were home, there would be no sisters standing guard outside your room, no courtiers to avoid and, more importantly, no dragon prince .

Stretching out your hand, you catch cool drops of rain in your palm, and can’t help but think of the beach. The thrill of the water rushing against your skin, the pull of the tide-

“My Lady?”

Startled, you turn towards the sound.

“Lady Baratheon?” Tyland Lannister says, as though you might be confused about who he was talking to in a garden emptied by the storm. Yet, you’re so surprised he’s speaking to you, you look around just the same.

“What are you doing out here?” he exclaims, his hair soaked with water as he strips his cloak from his shoulders before throwing it over yours without question.

You're too stunned to answer, but he doesn’t wait for you to say anything. He takes your arm, guiding you across the garden to where a little covered terrace offers far better protection from the elements and, beyond the door, you can see the chambers are decorated in the style of House Lannister.

He pulls out an iron chair from under an iron table and you sit, wishing you’d removed his cloak first, as he takes the other seat.

“It has been far too long since I’ve enjoyed your company,” he says, as though the whole thing wasn’t by some cowardly design.

You don't reply. You can’t exactly ask him why he’s chosen this precise moment to risk the removal of his manhood at the hands of Aemond Targaryen- but you do wonder it.

What has changed since you last spoke?

He'd seemed so afraid then and appears so relaxed now.

He even smiles when you meet his eye, his gaze scraping approvingly across your cloaked form as though he’s very satisfied about the current situation indeed.

Then he gestures for the servant, and she pours hot tea into delicate little cups while a long silence begins to stretch across the table, its length marked with every drop of rain which taps on the roof until he decides to speak.

“How long until you return home, Lady Baratheon?”

“Three days.”

“Only three?” he shifts in his chair, his hand clenched while his thumb brushes thoughtfully across his finger, “I hear the Stormlands can be quite unforgiveable come winter.��

You pick up your cup, “only to those who cannot withstand them, my lord.”

“Casterly Rock is always pleasant no matter the time of year. You would like it, I think.”

"My sister Cassandra would like it more. She loathes to be cold, but I could not find any pleasure in the summer if there was no winter to keep her in balance.”

“And how did you enjoy the tourney?” he asks then, flitting the subject to one he hopes you can agree on, and you suddenly remember all the reasons you were trying to avoid his company before Aemond intervened.

The rigid conversations, the fawning look in his eye, and the unspoken expectation of flattery and obedience.

“I detest tourneys,” you admit, and Tyland’s gaze widens, his teacup hovering just below his lips.

“I suppose they can be quite violent for ladies with such tender hearts.”

His words make you feel a little nauseated as you settle your cup back onto the table. “It is not my tender heart which finds them disagreeable, my lord, it is my objection to idiocy in the name of glory.”

Tyland frowns, confused by your honesty and seeming unsure on how to react.

He was supposed to ask if you liked tourneys, and you were supposed to smile and say yes, before agreeing with every other remark he decided to make. But you were in no mood to fake interest for the sake of propriety or to fake anything at all.

“My lady seems quite unsettled by the storm,” he decides with a small uncomfortable laugh, “perhaps you will feel more comfortable inside, where it is much warmer?”

You glance back into the room, where it is all red upholstery and golden lions, and get the distinct feeling that this could be your life, if you wanted it.

All you had to do was play the part you’d been born to play, and he would ask for your hand, and you would birth a little Lannister baby come spring.

It would be so easy. The Lannister’s were wealthy and powerful, so you could find endless comfort and safety in this golden cloak. But were you really prepared to settle for comfort because you were too afraid of a little storm?

Tyland was old enough to be your father, and boring enough to be completely harmless, but what was marriage without passion? Only duty, and all at once, you find you're not prepared to give your life away so readily in the name of that.

So, knowing it’s likely a terrible mistake to spurn the possibility of such an enviable match, you do it anyway.

“Please,” you stand, fiddling with the clasp of his cloak before it slips from your shoulders into a pile on the chair, “do not aim to speak with me again.”

Tyland stands too, his face even more perplexed than before, as you head back into the rain like a mad woman instead of a future Lady Lannister, and you feel not a thimbleful of regret.

Nor are you content. The downpour seems relentless, your dress growing heavier and heavier with every step you take as you trudge along the winding paths.

Yet even with the rain, you do not wish to face your sisters, and feel as though there is really no place to go except one .

The Crown Library.

~~~

Thank you for reading! This chapter was getting so long I had to split it into more manageable chucks but that means next chapter is all Aemond :D

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #romance #female reader #enemies to lovers #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond #slow burn

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wlwinry · 1 year ago

Note

wait wait please tell me more about the thistlecaster tangled au

oh boy oh boy im about to explode. prepare for a deeply silly heartfelt au that hovers in the back of my mind so very often

gorgug is (approximately) flynn, fabian is (approximately) rapunzel

by this i mean that they fill those two roles not that the personalities perfectly align

but to backtrack a little to that age-old worldbuilding: fabian, youngest (adoptive, but who cares) son of cathilda the black falls grievously ill as an infant. devastated and desperate, cathilda and fabian's older siblings (princess maeve, prince kieran, and princess rory, though theyre not super relevant to the au i just care about them a lot) hunt for magical cures high and low and eventually find an ancient healing blossom blessed by Galicaea, goddess of the moon, and Cassandra, goddess of the night and of mystery. some say that the flower came from the tears Galicaea shed when her sister first died, but that's neither here nor there...

the royal guard sneaks and fights through the wards around the flower and brews it into a healing draught, one that restores the infant prince's strength--but as he heals and grows bit by bit, the royal family notices a shocking change. fabian's hair, previously a pale silver, has turned moon-white. writing it off as a simple change, the likes of which frequently occur with infants, queen cathilda announces that her baby is healed and the kingdom rejoices

except word reaches bill and hallariel seacaster, fabian's biological parents. you see, they didn't want to deal with a child on their adventures, so they dropped him off on the shores of their former friend's kingdom.

a magical child, however...that's not a burden. that's an opportunity.

hallariel tricks her way into her palace to try and siphon some of fabian's magic, but finds it tied to the boy's blood and hair. so, of course, she steals him back. don't worry, she left a note thanking cathilda for taking such good (temporary) care of him, but she and bill have quite the client list looking for the magical youth, healing, and immortality a child with the healing power of a god can bring

cathilda hunts them down to no avail. the hangman (the ship) stops sailing, hiding in a cove shrouded by the best wards money can buy. fabian grows up in a cabin of that ship, never stepping foot off of it and never seeing another person beyond the clients his doting (ha) mama and papa bring in

cue the lantern celebration, a last hope from the royal ceíli family that their last little one will find his way home

cut to nineteen years later. thief duo fig and gorgug need one last score to be able to leave the kingdom behind with more than enough money to pursue their dreams once they end up Anywhere But There. the score in question? the crown of the lost prince

things don't go to plan, though--they get caught on the way out of the vault and end up splitting up, unable to reach their meeting spot now that (junior) captain of the guard riz gukgak is on their tails. fig heads for the forest sans-crown, gorgug heads for the shore with the crown, and when he sees what looks like a shipwreck in the middle of a secluded cove he decides to trust his gut and sneak aboard.

the problem is, of course, that the second he's on board, the glamour fades and the ship is clearly whole and hale. not that he gets much of a chance to process this, though. he gets brained over the head by a large, heavy blunt object, shoved into a closet, and then is blackmailed by the most beautiful man he's ever seen with the longest hair in the goddamn world to take him to see the floating lights in return for the crown. always a man of honor, gorgug agrees, and the ethereally beautiful stranger introduces himself as fabian

and he is. shockingly easy to fall in love with. mesmerized by the outside world. determined to experience as much as he can in the short few days he has without clients. deeply melancholy. maybe a little too fearless

he shudders whenever gorgug holds his hand, like he's not used to the touch. to the comfort

gorgug thinks there isn't much he wouldn't give to see him happy, escape plan aside.

(cue the whole adventure. all of it. except fabian doesnt lose his magic like rapunzel does bc i always thought that was silly. he does THINK that that's where his power stems from, because that's what bill and hallariel always thought and told him)

(also, this is a fabian who wasn't trained, bc bill decided he made a better asset when he was unable to fight the people they sold his magic to. you know, if he ever decided to escape. a lot harder to do that when you can't fight back)

(this au was originally conceptualized with transfem!fabian but really it can be done either way)

(the scene where eugene is totally speechless when he first sees rapunzel? that, but thistlecaster)

(the hangman [dog] is pascal)

#d20 #fabian seacaster #gorgug thistlespring #thistlecaster #figueroth faeth #riz gukgak #tangled au

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thewritersaddictions · 2 years ago

Text

Day Twenty: Lady Alcina Dimitrescu + Mind Control/Body Modification

You really can't remember how you managed to get a tongue piercing. When it had happened? Where, or if the lady of the house knew about it.

It had been her daughters. Her beautifully crazy daughter had dragged you out and into the booming town of the village below the large ornate castle.

Bela, Cassandra, and Danelia all just wanted to let loose. The hot, sticky summer days gave ease to their entrapment during the freezing winter months.

They flittered and floated around the town. Bar hopping from one place to another as the day went on the looser we all got. Until we ended up at a tattoo parlor. The four of you had all gotten matching tattoos.

Little bugs that had wings to fly and a little sun to fly towards. How you managed to be the only one laying on your back. Tongue pressed between a pair of cold forceps. A quick sharp pain as the three watched you like hawks.

Just like that, you had a piece of shiny jewelry in your mouth. A ball on each side of your tongue that felt weird at first. They all cheered for you as the four of you walked out with a gleeful attitude.

You played with it in your mouth until you and the sisters arrived back at Castle Dimitrescu.

Days, weeks went by. You were really sure what your relationship with the lady of the house was. She liked you as a pet, but she yearned for you while you were gone. She saw how good you were with her naughty daughters. It was a sticky situation. Your tongue swelling went down, then it just became a part of your everyday life. The feeling of something pressed underneath your tongue, but also above it pressed into the roof of your mouth.

It wasn't until Dimitrescu had a written note sent to your bed chambers. Inside is her beautiful cursive writing, it said. "My dearest, I know that I've been ever so busy with things lately. I feel as if I haven't seen you in ages, so come to my chambers tonight. Kisses Y/n." Dimitrescu letter read.

Even just here words on the paper had your stomach twisting in knots of anticipation, and lust. Your relationship with the lady of the house wasn't conventional by any means. You had at one point been a simple maid, your job title had then been switched to a caregiver for the girls who were madly in love with someone new to play with.

From there things grew. You were once again switched from the girl's personal handmaiden to Lady Dimitrescu's personal handmaiden. Your relationship changed after that your heart burned with passion for her, and so did hers. Once again you were put into an odd place. Dimitrescu didn't want you to ever leave, but she didn't want to keep that title above your head.

You tie your robe around your waist and make your way toward her room. You barely have to knock on her bedroom door. A silky voice travels through the wooden door. "Come in." You push open the door. "Oh Bubba, you came," Alcina murmurs as she sits up on the bed.

A much larger robe wrapped around her. Her hair is out of its tight curls, and she looks warm as coaxes you over to her. "Of course, I came my lady." You said as you walked over to her.

She shook her head, "What have I said about that Bubba?" Alcina asks you. You still to this day had a hard time calling her by her name, Alcina wasn't what you had been taught to call her. My lady slipped out at least once or twice when it was the just two of you.

"I'm sorry my… Alcina." You whisper. Alcina grabs onto your cheeks, cold hands in contrast to your warm, and already blushing face. "Smile for me, Bubba." Alcina loves it whenever you smile. Wild light that explodes from your toothy grin, it goes straight through her and into her heart.

Your face breaks out into a glowing smile as you snuggle into her touch on your cheeks. Alcina just stares at you for what feels like ages. Aclina scans over your brightest features to the lines on your forehead and near your eyes. She drinks you in literally taking you in for everything you can give her from just a little ole' smile.

Then her eyes catch something. A glint, a metallic shine on some sort. Alcina doesn't think about it until the fire's light makes it shine even more. Her face contorts, and yours follows suit. "Y/n?"

Alcina never really says your name, but when she does it means she is serious. You echo her, 'Alcina?" You whisper back to her. "Open your mouth for me, Bubba." She demands of you. Her eyes go wide when you open your mouth and stick out your bedazzled tongue.

"What is this shining in your mouth?" Alcina doesn't sound mad, hell she doesn't even have an emotion on her face. You swallow as Alcina takes her cold hands off your face. "Well…" You start off. Alcina has yet to take her eyes off the rhinestone on your tongue. She watches it move as you tell her the story of the girls wanting tattoos, and how they had bet you to get a tongue piercing.

"You aren't mad are you?" You ask Alcina. Her yellow eyes flash quickly with hurt, and then she's back consoling you. "My sweetness I'd never be mad at you for something like this." Alcina reaches over her thumb grazing over your bottom lip.

You two stay like that for a few moments, before Alcina says what she's been thinking since she caught the glimmer. You see the smirk on her face, and then her words hit your ears. "You know Y/n I've always wondered what it would feel like me on." Your face goes hot with a blush.

Thinking up all the scenarios that Alcina could be talking about. "Do you wanna…" You can't get the words out. "Do I wanna what sweetness?" Alcina is ever so a minx. "I… you…" You bit your bottom lip searching for the words. "I wanna…" You don't even finish your thouhgt before your delved in. Crashing into Alcina lips.

The kiss is searing, in a hot sort of knee buckling way. Alcina wraps here long fingers around the back of your neck, and when you lick her lips for entrance into her mouth she moans. It only pushes you further. Hands burhsing up agasint soft robe fabric. "Take this off me please." Alcina begs you. You never seen, or heard Alcina so desperate for touch.

You follow her request. Stripping her of the robe, throwing it off into the room. She stands there so tall, and so bare. Her skin lights up with goosebumps as you trail your fingers up and down her curves. She moans at your light touches. "Don't tease." Alcina warns. "I'm sorry… I just like touching you is all." You murmurs as you leave a litter of kisses on your way up and down her body.

That's before Alcina picks you up and shifts the both of you towards the soft surface of the bed. She lays you ontop of her. Your own robe gives way, showing off the shorts and tank top you wear to bed.

Kissing up and down Alcina jaw and neck. She hard grips harder when you suck a little bruise on her skin where the shoulder, and neck met. You follow down her collar bone down between the valley of her breasts. Her hands shifts landing in your hair. You suck yet another bruise between her breasts. And when you look up to fancy your work. Alcina is already on the verge of bursting with lust.

You get back to work. Licking up her kiss, kissing the little but best spots for her. Everytime you lick Alcina skin she whines, and moans. "Oh fuck Y/n, you dont… oh hell you don't know" She can't get her words out.

It's not until you shimmy yourself between her large thighs, and are face to face with her dripping cunt. You take a quickl glance up at her. She yellow eyes are blown out with lust, her cheeks are red with a thick layer of blush.

"Don't make me…" You don't let alcina finish when you lick a sticky strip from her leaking hole to her clit leaving it kiss when you come up. Your hands come spreading her apart. Dripping further down onto the fresh linens. You blow cold air onto her cunt. She shivers and moans at the action.

You can't hold back anymore. You care not for rhe breathe you need as you stuff your face into her wet, dripping cunt. Everythng just feels right, and damn the encoramanet that you hear from above you have you wishing you could get some sort of relief out of it as well.

You licks around her swollen clit, and a harh hand come to tug at your hard pulling you. Using you for Alcina own plesure. You are no longer fucking her with your mouth. Rather she's fucking you with her cunt. When you do manage to slip a set of fingers into her cunt she's tight as always. Sucking you in as your pull out and push them right back in. "Oh sweet fuck!" Alcina moans out, her head is thrown back and her eyes are shut tightly as your lick her clit the rinestone tongue peicing hitting it just right.

Two fingers itching just the right spot to make Alcina vision go white with passion. Her cunt squeezes your finger tight as she moans out loudly and cums all over your face. Your face is drenched, down to your tank top.

When you come up from between Alicna thighs she's worn out unable to lift her head and take a look at you. "Alcina, did I make you squirt?" You aks your voice husky and deep. she graons and shake her head a little.

You shift moving up to lay next to the worn out lady of the house. It's silent for only a moments time. "You must know my dear that I haven't felt that good in such a long time." Alcina says as she looks over at you. She looks so content, calm for the first time in a long time. "Thank you my sweetness." Alcina murmurs. "Of course." You get up grabbing your robe, and wiping down your face before getting a wet cloth and cleaning up between Alcina thighs.

when you go to leave her chambers, a small tired voice calls you back. "Stay with me?" Alcina asks you don't dare ignore, or deny her.

Completed on: 08/01/23

Posted on: 10/20/23

Kinktober 23- @lanad3lreyscokewhor3 @homelanderscumdump @hummusxx@chvnsdimple @vvitzvafflezvv @lokisivy @claud-blood0703 @iliketoreads-stuff @all-that-glitters-is-treasure@clearscissorsbonkgiant-blog @lxonix--ac @piecesofx @mortallyswimmingpainter @playwithfire99 @fucak @everythingneytiri @lovetheos @xxxxxoseungxoooo @durazopato @hotpead42069 @oddseabiscuit @capoda @witching-hour @viviwows @lover103 @alexlovesfiction @katiecat10 @electricfans @jianasmind @max-505 @powerbun21o @the-horny-simp @missy420-0 @jaq-dav @arescosplays

Resident Evil Master List // House Dimitrescu Master List // Kinktober '23

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suprememuffin06 · 7 months ago

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should i post my caitvi canon-compliant character study fanfic on ao3???

i've written about 4k words so far, so far from any semblance of completion. this is my first fic and i'm soooo nervous to post it on ao3 because i'm scared it's just horrible lol. i'm trying to cover all the missing caitvi scenes for all the acts in s2, and im on act 1 so far. i'll post the draft here, and if anyone has any feedback, it would be extremely appreciated!

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Vi couldn't look Cait in the eye, not properly. Not after all that happened. She was just comfortable enough staring at the girl’s royal blue hair and uniform, closely examining each subtle shake of a shoulder and each nearly imperceptible frown. Vi watched as the cracks in Caitlyn’s facade started to widen, the composed face she put up for the citizens of Piltover starting to slowly weaken.

Even from all the way below the balcony, in the waves of people gathered to memorialize Cassandra Kiraminn, Vi saw Caitlyn. Everyone else was looking at the daintily crafted blue and gold casket, to their councilwoman.

Vi heard the shifty murmurs of panic and uncertainty. A terrorist attack from the undercity. Half the counsel dead. Vi could feel the bile rising in her throat, tasting something like guilt mixed with the name Powder. And though her attention to Caitlyn never faltered, she couldn’t stop seeing flashes of Jinx’s gag in Cait’s mouth; she flinched as a cold crept up her spine.

Vi was surely going to throw up, and this time it didn’t feel like it would be as freeing as heaving after a gut punch from an inmate at Stillwater or wiping her mouth after one too many drinks from prison-made alcohol. Yet, there she stood. Her arms hung at her sides, the old wraps crusted with blood. She shoved her hands deep into her pockets, trying to hide the mess of her knuckles. The tattoo on her face gleamed in the sunlight like a proclamation saying “I don’t belong here” to the sophisticated individuals around her. She noticed the mothers pulling their children to their sides when seeing Vi, and the men that towered over her shot her murderous glares with fists clenched at their sides. I don’t belong here.

She didn’t care, not as long as she could look at her Caitlyn. Her Caitlyn. Her Powder. Her throat tightened, memories of blue flashing across her mind like lightning splitting the dark. It zipped around, knocking over and crashing into every crevice of her brain, leaving a trail of destruction in its path. Powder laughed with joy, and Vi could only watch as the short, choppy hair of her sisters grew into long, vine-like braids. In spite of herself, she winced at the thought.

The glitter bombs Powder held stopped exploding, in exchange for the sound of gunfire reverberating in her skull. Jinx aimed her machine gun through Vi’s eyes, directly at the indigo of the Kirraman girl standing above her. The worst gift Vi could give Caitlyn, delivering all the anger that her sister represented directly to her. And although she hated it now, Jinx would forever be a name buzzing right beneath her bones. No matter how much of herself she could give to Caitlyn, there was always an underlying paranoia that her mere presence was a vessel, bringing Jinx right at Caitlyn’s doorstep.

Vi wanted to feel it. You did this. No one else noticed the small tear that slipped down Caitlyn’s highest cheekbone except for her. YOU did this. Vi furrowed her eyebrows and locked onto that tear, watching it slide down the column of Cait’s neck. She saw the betrayal on her sister’s face when she saw her for the first time in seven years, with an enforcer. An enforcer, for fuck’s sake. And she saw the way Caitlyn listened to her when she told her not to shoot Jinx. And now her mother is in a box.

Somehow, Vi managed to gain and lose two of the most valuable relationships she ever held in the matter of a few weeks. You are a fire. Keeping people just warm enough if they stay at arm’s length. Once they draw near, they get burned. They get hurt, and yet you ask them to come closer still.

When Caitlyn’s eyes started to gain some focus again, her pupils pinpointed in the sunlight while scanning the masses, Vi vanished. She waded through the crowd and could feel Cait’s gaze find her back, watching her leave. She could only allow herself to indulge in the pain of looking at Caitlyn indirectly, but she would never allow her to know the pain of looking VI in the eyes again.

Vi would kill herself twenty times over before allowing Caitlyn to trust her, her judgement. Look what happened the last time she allowed that. Vi only brought ruin. A false security. She would not allow herself to be the cause of such anguish again. She needed to leave.

Caitlyn’s fingernails left crescent-moon shaped indents in her palm, and her enforcer uniform felt heavy on her shoulders as she watched everyone who came to her mother’s funeral. Really, she was looking at just one. The last thread of color in her life was slipping away, without so much as a goodbye.

Vi would have to be a fool to presume that Caitlyn wouldn’t find her in the sea of people, drawn to the side-swept mess of pink hair and bright red jacket. It took her every ounce of control that she had remaining to not clear the landing and sprint to the girl.

Caitlyn imagined herself crashing into Vi’s arms, and feeling the strength of the Zaunite’s biceps pressing against her cheek. Don’t go. You’re all I have left anymore. She could practically feel Vi’s breath rustle the strands of her navy hair, accompanied by the soft whisper of “I’ve got you, Cupcake” into her ear.

Tears started to well in her eyes and Caitlyn willed them to remain in place. She forced her back straighter as she watched the girl that she spent every day with for the last few weeks, walk away from her. Far enough away that Vi was just a pink dot in the distance, against the muted hue of the Piltover cityline. Caitlyn exhaled hard in favor of allowing herself to feel anything more, and steeled herself for the ending of the funeral.

The casket was closed, shrouded with a metric ton of violets, plucked delicately petal-for-petal. The hard contours of the box reminded Caitlyn of the sharp line of her mother’s jaw and the strong nose that she herself inherited.

The pall-bearers slowly lifted her mother’s coffin, and began their descent towards the cemetery just outside of Piltover city limits, where all of the most influential people were buried. Involuntarily, her feet began to shuffle forward, trying to catch one last glimpse of her mom, before one of the enforcers standing beside her shifted closer and in front of her. She didn’t know him well, but knew he was higher-ranking. Under any other circumstance she would have obeyed hierarchy and stopped herself. But today was not the day to test her, not when she was one more inconvenience from breaking down and raining hellfire on anyone who tried to tell her to “stay strong.” The officer shriveled under Caitlyn’s glare, one that could only be embodied by a councilwoman’s daughter.

She marched right beside the casket, her eyes level to the head of it, where her mother’s face would be if the box were open. This form of emotional expression, Caitlyn knew, was frowned upon by her people, but she couldn’t give two shits. Nothing was ever going to stop her from reaching those she loved again.

Caitlyn walked dutifully before reaching the stairs, catching the glimpse of her own shade of blue; her father. His broken gaze withered her soul and her body felt as weak as the day it did when Jinx killed her peace. She stopped in place. The only thing keeping her upright anymore being the red-hot swirl of something bitter brewing in her stomach. She was already imaging target-practice later today, with two sky-blue plaits covering the bullseye.

After Jinx had destroyed the council-building, Caitlyn’s ears were ringing so loudly she could barely register her screaming as her own. Vi’s strong hands were no longer steadfast when holding Cait up, and despite her injury, Caitlyn started trying to run. Out of Zaun, out of that hellhole that she thought was worth risking her family and her legacy for. In the back of her mind, she noticed that Vi was following her, calling her name, asking her to wait. You’re hurt Cait, please. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t think she would do it. I’m sorry. Violet’s voice cracked on the last apology.

Caitlyn didn’t spare a glance back, adrenaline flowing through her veins just enough that her long legs could carry her through the slums and across the bridge without collapsing. In hindsight, she realized that Jinx just disappeared after the incident, and neither she nor Vi went after her. The thought left an unbearably bitter taste in the back of her mouth, the thought that she was so close to Jinx, after all that she had been through at the hands of the girl, and she didn’t take the chance to shoot her in her fuck ass grin.

Caitlyn sprinted, harder than she ever had before, and felt Vi trying to keep up behind her. Vi even held her rifle that Jinx had taken from her during the abduction. She wished that the pink-haired inmate would just fucking trip on an overgrown root or leave her for her sister instead.

Vi was the one who told her not to shoot.

Vi.

How could she do that?

She kept running, outpacing Vi with every further step.

By the time Caitlyn arrived at the scene, her precariously put-together enforcer uniform was ripped in places she knew was unrepairable and new cuts littered her body. She was nearly knocked down by Jayce’s hulking body, running out of the building, carrying who she vaguely understood to be Viktor’s limp body.

Without sparing a glance back at her friend, she ran into the collapsing structure. She caught a glimpse of soft-white hair and turquoise earrings. Her mother was being carried out by four enforcers in gas-masks, her body slack and unmoving. Caitlyn watched her mother’s eyes, just barely clinging to any semblance of life, met hers, and blinked out one final time. She could do nothing but stand in shock as the enforcers pushed past her to the stretcher laid outside, Cassandra Kirramin’s blank gaze never breaking.

Vi was a fucking pussy. She told herself she fucking wouldn’t, that she would stay. away. Yet, she found herself at the foot of a towering mega mansion. From her vantage point on the ground, she could even see the window of Caitlyn’s room, the same one she had snuck into just a few days prior.

The feeling of manicured fingernails brushing her cheek came flooding into her body without permission, and a familiar warmth seemed to tighten its hold around her heart. “Fuck.” She cursed to herself, and took the first step up the massive stairs. She was weak, and always had been, but she tried to console herself by telling herself that she just wanted to make sure that Cait was okay, that’s all.

Once more, just to see her, that’s all.

The guards stationed at the large mahogany doors let her in without so much a second glance, and Vi, against her best wishes, felt her heart swell. Cait had to have told them to let her through, otherwise what competent guard would allow a Zaunite into one of the most influential Piltie families' homes, especially after recent events?

It took Vi embarrassingly long to locate Caitlyn, at some points just aimlessly wandering around the carpeted halls, fingertips brushing each piece of exquisite artwork adorning the walls. A few times, she nearly walked into rooms where Caitlyn’s father was in, before catching herself and speeding away. She didn’t need a reminder of how unwanted she was there and didn’t have the strength in her to apologise without crying.

Vi was the catalyst that led Cait to lose her mother. She wasn’t stupid, she could see the level of crazy that Jinx had come to. She had noticed in her youth that Powder wasn’t the most stable of children, especially after Mylo’s unrelenting taunting, but she never would have guessed how big of an impact her disappearance would have on her younger sister.

Sidling up with Silco, for fuck’s sake. Vi never meant to leave her, and every second after getting thrown into jail by some enforcer to her release, her only thought was of Powder. She knew Powder, her greatest insecurities and biggest goals and still she allowed the girl to think that her big sister, her protector, was leaving her. Powder was just a kid, and look at how badly Vi fucked her up.

Vi swallowed painfully at the realization that she did this. Powder became Jinx because of her actions, and now her hand hovered over the door to Caitlyn’s mother’s closet, where Kirraman was seated cross-legged, unsure if she should knock or leave again before she messes everything up again. She started to shuffle backwards, away from the room, walking away from the only reliable thing in her life.

Caitlyn must have heard the soft breaths of Vi’s shoes on the hardwood and looked over her shoulder sharply.

“Vi!” Cait’s desperate voice ended in a needy whisper.

The taller girl got onto her feet unsteadily and almost sprinted to Vi, falling into her arms. Her face was streaked and hair mussed. Vi could feel fresh tears soaking into the side of her neck, where Caitlyn’s face was currently buried. “I thought you left.”

Vi only held her tighter, but didn’t allow her grimy hands to come anywhere near the pristine uniform that Caitlyn wore, in fear of getting it dirty with her heavy hands. “I’m right here cupc- Cait.” It felt wrong to use such a light-hearted nickname, especially after all the pain she had caused the woman in her arms.

Caitlyn, seeming to catch herself, pulled away quickly from Vi’s hold and tried to inconspicuously wipe away any remaining water from her eyes. Half of the dark-blue shoulder length hair was falling out of the hastily done ponytail, and Vi’s hands itched at her side to try to stop it from brushing it out of the other girl’s face.

“How’ve you been holding up?” Vi asked, her voice soft.

“What do you think?” Caitlyn responded with a feigned chuckle and turned around. Vi noticed the clothing that littered the floor of the closet for the first time, and the ruffled tuxedo dress that Caitlyn clenched in her white-knuckled fist.

They stood like that a while, Caitlyn once again facing the days-untouched clothes neatly folded on racks, and Vi observing Cait from behind. The closet itself was bigger than Vi’s cell for seven years, but somehow felt even more desolate and hopeless.

Vi let her eyes drag from the top of Caitlyn’s head to the bottom of her heeled boots. The roots of her hair were getting slightly greasy, as if she hadn’t showered in quite a bit, but her uniform was as pristine and gleaming as ever, as if it had been polished and laundered many times over.

The skirt that Caitlyn wore left just enough of a gap above her thigh highs to show a sliver of white skin. Usually, Vi’s lust-addled mind would stare there more than she liked to admit, but now she could only think about the small bruise that was blooming under carefully applied makeup, mostly hidden by the hem of the skirt. Vi did her best, but could not control her sharp inhale at the view. How could someone be so pure in a world so cruel? And Vi had helped lead Caitlyn down a path where her blemishless, innocent skin would most likely be further marred by her past.

Caitlyn turned on her heel to face Vi once again, and Vi had to take a slight step back, forgetting how much taller the other girl was, especially in her shoes.

“I’m going to go check on my father, he’s not been eating.”

Vi, once again, couldn’t meet her eyes, and let her gaze drop to the floor.

A heartbeat later, a slim, manicured hand tentatively reached for Vi’s, and her heart melted.

“Are you.. Going to stay?” Caitlyn grew more confident as she slowly wrapped both her hands around Vi’s. She didn’t look up at her, instead opting to brush her fingers over Vi’s wrapped knuckles. “I could clean this for you.”

Vi felt the familiar tug in her gut, drawing her closer to the idea of staying with Caitlyn, but she felt disgusted with herself for feeling as such. “Cait..”

Caitlyn’s striking blue eyes met hers under long lashes and the words caught in her throat. Gently, she pried her hand away from Caitlyn’s pleading grip and brought it to her face. Her thumb brushed over one of the tear streaks on Cait’s soft cheek and she could feel her eyebrows tighten with something akin to affection.

“Of course I will.”

If it weren’t for Vi’s hand allowing her to feel the loosening of Caitlyn’s clenched jaw, she wouldn’t be able to perceive much at all about the girl’s reaction. Instead Caitlyn nodded into her palm.

“I’ll be quick, I swear. I just need to make sure he’s okay to sleep.” Cait covered Vi’s hand on the side of her face with her own. “My room is down the hall and the second door on the left.”

Slowly, she extracted herself, and Vi heard the clack of boots down the hallway, stunned at what she’s allowed herself to do. Caitlyn was a sweet girl with a heart that needed to be defended by someone who wouldn’t accidently hurt it in the process. Caitlyn Kirramin was the exact person she grew up believing didn’t exist, and Vi was allowing herself to become key to her destruction.

In her room?? The house was fucking massive, and there was more silk in the closet itself than Vi had ever been exposed to (exactly none), her entire life prior. They must have at least one spare room. She mentally kicked herself and clenched her fists into her jacket. All she could do was hope that she wasn’t making the wrong decision again.

Vi had no idea how anyone got around in this palace; it took her almost ten minutes of walking up and down the hallways until she finally found the familiar high-ceilinged bedroom, her face a mask of amused disbelief the whole time.

She entered as softly as she could. The room was as she remembered it, all organized and minimal, a picture perfect representation of one of Piltover’s most wealthy families. It seemed that this aesthetic left Vi unsure of where to keep her hands so she opted to cross her arms.

All was the same except one tiny change to Caitlyn’s crime board at the foot of her bed. At the center of the interweaving lines of yarn, there was one image plastered haphazardly. All the paths led to that one picture, like rivers flowing to the ocean. Vi felt her mouth go dry as the worst photo she had ever seen of her sister started back at her, with a deranged sort of stare.

She didn’t even have enough time to react to it before hearing the click of the door behind her. Caitlyn’s eyes immediately drew to what Vi was looking at and she quickly pulled a throw blanket off of the loveseat in the corner and threw it on top of the board, making sure nothing was peeking through.

“It’s getting late, Vi, I don’t want to think about anything substantial right now.”

Cait was indeed right, it was well past dark, as could be seen through the infamous window on the far end of her room. Vi attempted a small smile and her usually natural laidback tone.

“So, where do you want me?” She face-palmed internally as Caitlyn let out a small, endearing giggle. Vi’s smile turned genuine at the sound, despite the fact that she just accidentally let innuendo slip to the girl she would be spending the night with.

Caitlyn’s eyes were bright, despite the circles underneath them. “Hopefully in here?”

Vi’s hesitation was palpable, especially now. “Do you have a spare mattress? Or I could take the chair. Or the floor, I’m used to that one, feels like home now.”

Caitlyn just started at Vi like she was stupid. “I would never make you sleep on the floor.” She whispered, almost offended.

Vi couldn’t take any more of this. This.. guilt. But she endured, for Caitlyn’s sake.

“Thanks, Cupcake.”

Vi was easier to read than any books in Caitlyn’s family library. Zaunite's pupils were always blown looking at her and the scar on her lip twitched whenever she had something to ask. Not unusually, Cait was looking at Vi’s lips again. She found it ironic that such a hardened individual was so obviously transparent. The girl was concerned about her, and if anyone else were to be so, attentive, Caitlyn would send them out immediately. But, as she had suspected (and feared): she needed Vi.

Caitlyn had been raised to focus only on the task at hand; getting the job done. With all the memories pushing and pulling like tides in her head made the etiquette lessons with her mother feel like they happened hours ago. She could still feel the warm sting of a ruler rapping against her lower back whenever she slouched. The perfect daughter. Even in her dying breath, Caitlyn didn’t believe Cassandra thought that of her.

House Kirraman was a matriarchy, and she was the sole inheritor of the title. She understood it now more than ever, that her days of trying to find her “place” in the world were over. Recklessly selfish actions for the sake of a possibly hollow idea of self no longer had any place in her. Caitlyn knew who she was: capable and resourceful, and an excellent fucking shot. Although the future was still a perpetually uncertain mystery, she tried to take it one step at a time.

Vi was looking at her, she could feel her worried gaze. Caitlyn inhaled deeply, clearing her mind the best she could. One mission: get through the night.

Maybe then she wouldn’t feel Cassandra’s hard, but loving stare drilling into the back of her neck.

- Vi’s brain hurt trying to overanalyze every step of Cait’s movements, attempting to decipher what her next best move should be. Currently, the bluenette was rummaging through a dresser at the corner of her room. Vi slowly slipped off the bed, unsure of what to do.

Caitlyn walked over with two fresh pairs of clothes. She handed Vi a pair of soft linen pants and a cotton white tank top, while she held a similar tank and a short pair of her shorts.

“Do you need anything? You can change in the bathroom if you’d like.”

Vi smiled, but it probably came out looking more like a grimace. “This is more than I’m used to, don’t worry.” Her teasing tone was doing nothing to remedy Cait’s stoic expression. The only window Vi had for any indication of what she was thinking, were the girl’s striking eyes, clearly focused on something else.

Caitlyn walked directly past Vi and sat on her bed, legs crossed and knees to her chest with her face in her palms. Vi followed a few long seconds later, letting her legs dangle off the edge of the bed as she put her hand on Cait’s knee. Caitlyn finally met her eyes.

“Do you need anything else?” She asked gently.

Caitlyn’s voice was hoarse. “I’d like to shower.”

Vi looked at her slightly quizzically, unable to answer.

“She took me while I was bathing.” The words left her lips without ceremony, her tone flat, practiced. She knew it would hit Vi like a hammer, but what else was there to say? Her hand clenched the fabric of her shorts, knuckles pale against the dark cloth.

Vi felt the room tilt, her pulse thrumming so loudly in her ears that Caitlyn’s voice sounded like it was underwater.

She felt horrible for wanting to chuckle at Vi’s horrified look.

“Wha.. What do you mean?”

Vi’s breath hitched, her thoughts stumbling over themselves. Her chest felt tight, her fists curling unconsciously. Naked. Helpless. The image struck her like a fist to the ribs, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep her voice steady. Jinx’s laughter echoed in her head. What have I done?

“After the bridge. She kept me for a day, and..” Her voice trailed off, lost in thought.

Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck. Oh my god what the fuck. Vi felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. It was so much worse than she thought. Her heartbeat started to match the speed of her thoughts, as she put together the pieces.

When she had seen Caitlyn gagged and tied, the girl looked more terrified than she had ever seen her. Even still, Jinx’s presence cast a shadow over her worry.

Every step she thinks that she takes in the right direction, just ends up hurting the people around her. Maybe her and her sister weren’t that different after all.

Even softly, Caitlyn caught onto the slight increase in Vi’s breathing pattern and used her pointer finger to lift Vi’s chin gently, so their eyes could meet. She slipped her ungloved hand into Vi’s buzzed hair, the short strands soft against her fingertips, her thumb brushing the warmth of Vi’s cheek.

“Vi, I want to shower.”

Vi looked as conflicted as she probably felt. All she did was nod.

Caitlyn leaned forward, resting her forehead against her knees, her hand still lightly brushing Vi’s. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft rustle of fabric as Vi shifted closer. She didn’t know what to say—hell, she didn’t know what Cait wanted her to say.

When Caitlyn finally looked up, her eyes held a quiet, raw intensity that made Vi’s throat tighten. “Could you…” Her voice was thick, and she cleared her throat, her fingers tightened around Vi’s for just a moment. “Come with me?” Caitlyn’s eyes were sharp but heavy, like an ocean that hadn’t decided whether to swallow you whole or let you float.

#arcane #caitlyn kiramman #vi arcane #caitvi #character study #character analysis #canon compliant #in need of a beta reader #arcane season 2 #arcane s2 #arcane s2 act 1 #work in progress #im scared #first fanfic #vi x caitlyn #league of legends

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cg11555 · 1 year ago

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CURRENT FHJY THEORIES

My current conspiracy board for the season

These are my plausible theories and then I'll talk about my batshit insane theories

I think that the rat grinders HAVE lost their memories regarding Lucy's death. I'm inclined to believe that Ratbitch Dogface and MAYBE Ivy remember. I'd bet that they took the honey to lie to Aguefort and the other staff about their involvement with her death.

The mind terrorism that Fig put Ruben through caused him to vomit up a 'Bloody Viscous Substance' And I will not be surprised if Fig has made Ruben remember whatever happened to Lucy

Gertie verified that the honey made from the Devil's nectar is bloody red.

She is making the honey for some local food trucks that we know Are KLKC's

Another thing we know for a fact is that the body of Lucy Frostblade showed marks from multiple assailants including magical, non- magical, and specifically a type of bludgeoning damage that carbonized her blood into red diamonds

This leads us to believe that Lucy's murderers were her own party members. In addition to this, they also found the rage crystals in the dirt and the bodies of Lucy and Yolanda Badgood.

This clearing's destroyed trees shows indications of giant involvement as well

What we currently know leads me to believe that the Rat Grinders attempted a replication of Kristen's spring break miracle

Lucy attempted to resurrect an 'Evil' sibling of her goddess, Ruvina, The unnamed god now known as Ankarna.

This mirrors the Cassandra / Galicaea relationship as well

This attempt clearly backfired in some way I'd bet either resulting in Lucy or the others becoming something similar to the Rage Mages we saw in the battle at the Synod

I think that the Rat grinders are all at various levels of involvement in the upcoming plot involving Ankarna with KLCK being the mastermind AND I KNOW that there's some bullshit going on with the rogue teacher that FOUND KLCK ( Will be unsurprised if this unknown teacher is dead)

We currently do not know how this episode's revelations regarding the name will affect these plans in the upcoming episodes. If this is playing into the preexisting plans or completely destroying them

The way Brennan talked in the most recent AP about how he thought that them finding the name was an inevitability but a scene he thought would happen in the third act of the season makes me think that this will NOT affect the Rat Grinders plans in a majorly significant way. They still have to do something ( some kind of ritual or other ) that the Bad Kids will have stop in the final eps

After learning all about the Historical side of the shifts that Ankarna's domain saw I believe that there is a lot of evidence for a conspiracy against Cassandra and Ankarna involving Sol and Galicaea. But this is still up in the air

Now for my pepe silvia conspiracies . . . Feel free to bully me in the comments for these

ONE- The Time Quangle that Arthur Aguefort dropped on us in the second episode

We know that The Seven have already experienced a large chunk of this year during the GED quest that Aguefort was present for

And lesser men will say that the TIME QUANGLE is BLeeM's way of justifying the continuity errors between these two seasons

I am not one of them

The animated opening sees the Bad Kids falling past clocks and into a diamond prison created by Aguefort which explodes into the BK's falling in a scene eerily similar to them falling into Riz's briefcase of holding. They then face villains from both of the two previous seasons ( Goldenhoard, Kalina, a Corn-cutie, Chungledown Bim, James Whitclaw ( the mindflayer that kicked Fabian's ass during spring break) , Coach Daybreak, and Penelope w/ Dayne) in the Gym they fought Kalvaxus ( VP Goldenhoard ) before we get title cards for each of the Bad Kids

I posit that we will see the Bad Kids tumble through time as a result of not only Agueforts chronomancy adventure with Ayda but also the fuckery involving the time loop at the synod. Visiting their past villains in addition to current threats

TWO- Vice Principal Jace Stardiamond

Facts we know about Aguefort's resident sorcery prof and interim VP . . . Ragh Barkrock SAW him give Adaine's mom and Kalina the Nightmare King's crown from Aguefort's office after prompocalypse, Jace Stardiamond holds a useless position at Aguefort as sorcerers do not need any teaching for an innate ability, despite his uselessness he was chosen to become the VP, he was the person Yolanda Badgood was going to approach about the sinister shit surrounding Lucy Frostblade's 'disappearance' and the paperwork for a new deity she never saw. Yolanda is now dead, even though he is VP; after the death of Interim emergency backup principal Arcturus Grix He is still VP and Student body president Mazey Phaedra is now acting principal. Making room for KLCK to become principal next year if she wins that election.

Reviewing these fact I put forth the following idea, VP Jace Stardiamond is in cahoots with KLCK AND he is the unknown rogue teacher. WHY? how would someone with no knowledge of trickery or thievery manage to take the Nighmare King's Crown from Aguefort's office? How would a man that essentially does nothing as a teacher keep job security? What if the reason that KLCK was found by the rogue teacher was because he is in on the scheme? SPIE'S TONGUE CURSE?? SOMETHING THAT TWO ROGUES IN CAHOOTS WOULD USE DON'T YOU THINK? WHY WOULD HE MAKE RIZ A MEMBER OF THE FACULTY??

#dimension 20 #fhjy spoilers #d20 fhjy #fantasy high junior year #d20 fantasy high #theory #dimension 20 spoilers

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gffa · 2 years ago

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If the batfamily were in the gffa, which ones of them do you think would have been jedis? How quickly do you think they would have joined the nascent rebellion?

Absolutely NONE of them would have been Jedi, I say with all fondness towards the Batfam, but they are emotional hot messes, every single one of them, and to be a Jedi you literally have to have your emotional shit together, that's straight up how the Force works. You cannot act out of anger or fear without slinking towards the dark side, the Force will throw all that right back in your face, and I don't think there's a single Batfam member that doesn't consistently act out of a place of anger. Bruce - My guy can't even keep it together without a psychic energy field in his brain that resonates with his emotional well-being, he would fall to the dark side inside a month. I love him, but he already thinks he has things under control in his brain that he very much does not, he is the definition of being created by fear of loss and the anger that results from it. Dick - My Blorbo may be the definition of hope and light in the DC universe, the most trusted hero right after Superman, but he absolutely has anger issues that he just kind of ignores. Psychics in the DC universe have tried to invade his mind and come out like, "Jesus fuck why is that guy's mind so terrifying!?" because, while Dick chooses kindness and love, he was also forged in anger at the injustices in the world. Jason - Sweet babygirl doesn't even know what he wants, I tend to see Jason as often times deeply contradictory because I'm not sure he knows how he feels about things, does he want to be part of his family or does he want to walk away from them, he wants their love, but he can't tolerate their love, he thinks everyone expects the worst from him and is angry ahead of time, because he's so deeply insecure about his place in the world and in his family, and the injustices of his life are ones that still haunt him, the Joker killing him and still getting to run around would drive him into anger, fear, and despair just as much as anyone. Tim - My guy is ready to tell anyone and everyone to fuck the fuck off at the drop of a hat, that he's often times the one trying to pull everyone back together, but he also is still haunted by the death of his parents, he's still unsure of his relationship with Bruce at times, when things get back and he loses a little too much in his life, he starts pushing people away, he pushed Dick and Steph away while Bruce was dead, he obsessed over bringing Kon back as a way to cope, rather than actually letting go of his hurts, that guy seems fairly even keel sometimes, but, no, he's a hot mess who would have the Force throwing all that back in his face, too. Damian - Baby bat is so insecure in a lot of ways, because he doesn't always know how to relate to his father, he doesn't know how to be a complement to Bruce the way the other Robins did, they're both brooders, they're both the kind who wear their anger on their sleeves, and have a core fear of loss that would have the dark side hissing in their ears. Barbara - In some ways, Babs is more emotionally stable than the others, but in other ways, she is JUST as unhinged as they are, her fury at the Joker is still lingering all around her heart, she still explodes in anger when something pisses her off, she's still a little afraid of commitment because she's scared to open herself up, she still has to deal with her spinal implant not being perfect, Babs probably has a stronger sense of what her problems are, but it's not like she does anything about them half the time. Cassandra - I think she still feels too much guilt about her past, even if none of it was her fault, but that she can't let go of that pain, and it's not just "bad" anger/fear that draws you to the dark side, it's also "good" anger/fear that lures you there, too. And Cass deals with a lot of that and, while I think she'd probably have the best chance of any of them at making it as a Jedi, she does still have a lot of issues that the Force would be throwing back in her face.

Stephanie - I'd give her the second best chance, she at least sometimes recognizes her fears and says, yeah, I'm afraid, I'm just not going to let it stop me. Steph has as much anger and need to punch the world as any of them do, but I think she might have a chance at changing up her thought patterns enough to make it. Duke - Hmm, I'm not sure I've read enough with Duke yet to tell what his underlying issues are and how much he's dealt with them. He seems fairly stable and willing to back off when he needs to, but in general, if you're a Bat, you've probably got some real anger to work on. Kate - Everything I've read of Kate is definitely "wants to punch things in the face" or "feels torn up about her relationships with people" and that she's not really interested in not being those things. Alfred - It depends on how you view him, I guess. If you see him as someone who has made peace with the lives his family has chosen and willing to understand that they are who they are, then I could see Alfred as a Jedi. But if you lean into the idea of a British Stiff Upper Lip where he just doesn't talk about the anguish he goes through seeing his family get hurt night after night, knowing he can't stop them, then no he would be a terrible Jedi. In short: THEY WOULD ALL SUCK AS JEDI, but they would definitely have started their own Rebel cell even before Bail and Mon and Leia started connecting the various individual groups together!

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #duke thomas #alfred pennyworth

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