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eddiesxangel · 6 months

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Kiss Me Underneath the Mistletoe | Mechanic!EddieMunson x Friend!Reader

Cw: Eddie and you share your first kiss. Fluffy goodness. Implied smut (Mentions of a car accident but no injuries) Eddie and the reader are both in their 20’s. Use of nicknames for reader. GN Reader :)

WC: 1.5k

The party was in full swing when you pulled up to Steve’s driveway. Eddie offered to pick you up because your car was still at his shop. Your card had gone into a tailspin on some black ice and got stuck in a ditch a few days ago. You were okay; only some minor damage to the bumper had to be fixed. Thank god you had your mechanic friend's phone number memorized.

“There you are!” Steve sounded exasperated. There were about fifteen cars parked outside his house, and music and laughter filled the home. It was warm and comforting, but Stevie looked stressed.

You really had only been half an hour late. You had to rush home from work with no car, so you had to take the bus, which took ten times slower. Only to get ready, and then you and Eddie had to rush to the bakery before they closed for the evening to pick up the Christmas cookies you promised to bring tonight.

“Sorry Stevie, I had to pick up the goods.” you wiggle the box of Christmas cookies you had picked up. And Eddie wiggled the bottle of bourbon in his hands to show you brought gifts.

“Yes!” Dustin said as he zoomed past you, swiping the sugary treats out of your hands.

“Hey!” You placed your hands on your hips.

“Sorry! But can’t wait any longer! You’re late enough; we only get these once a year.” Dustin was not sorry.

“Whatever, just save me at least one” you giggle.

“I’ll sneak you some, don’t worry,” Eddie whispered in your ear as a fantasy of his lips touching your neck comes to the forefront of your mind. Your body shivered from the proximity, and only Eddie noticed. He knew he got you. You would be his tonight whether you knew it or not.

The night continued without a hitch; dinner was excellent, and there were games, music, and many more drinks afterwards.

There were a lot of people here you didn’t recognize. Mostly Steve’s coworkers from the office. You had gotten separated from the group when a few of them cornered you with the most god-awful conversation about trades and charts and who knows what.

You finally spot someone out of your group, thankfully Eddie, who can read your face better than anyone. You made the save me eyes, and he beelined to your rescue.

“Hey, there you are! I need your help in the basement. Steve needs us to bring up more booze.” he rests a hand on the small of your back.

You quickly and politely excuse yourself from the conversation, and as soon as the basement door closes, you let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god! I don’t think I could stand another moment; I don’t know how Steve does it!”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll always be here to save you,” Eddie smirks, his big hand still on your lower back, guiding you toward the cold cellar.

“Oh, we are actually getting drinks?” You question.

“Yea, babe, what did you think we would be doing down here?” he playfully wiggled his eyebrows before passing you a smaller case of beer while he took on the heavy load. You were a little disappointed; you thought you might get some alone time with Eddie before returning to the party.

You make your way back up to the sounds of cheering and laughing, unsure what’s going on. You both make it into the kitchen, restocking the cooler and fridge, oblivious to the crowd following Steve, who came running in, waving around some green and red plant while simultaneously spilling his red cocktail on the floor.

“Kiss!” Steve pops up behind you and Eddie, startling you both.

“What the fuck, man”—“You scared me!” You both say simultaneously.

“Too bad, you gotta kiss,” he says, wiggling mistletoe above your heads. You scan the group behind Steve; all your friends stare at you like zoo animals.

“Wha-” “Come on-“ you and Eddie were cut off.

“My party, my rules, you’re standing under the mistletoe. You gotta kiss,” he smirks like he knows what he is doing. It wasn't a secret to your friends you had a crush on Eddie.

“Steven!” You scold. Did you want to kiss Eddie? Yes. Did you want to do it forced in front of all your friends?! No.

As you stood your ground, it became more apparent that Steve wasn’t leaving until Eddie planted one on you.

You look to Eddie to gauge his feelings, but his poker face is not helping.

"You really don't want to kiss me that bad, sweetheart?" he raises a brow to you. Maybe he had read your situation wrong.

"What? No. Yes. No! I just want-" You were cut off because you heard your friends begin to chant behind Steve’s stupid, smug face.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!”

“Fine!” You succumbed to the peer pressure. You turn and grab Eddie’s head in both hands, pull him down, and plant one on him.

If you were paying attention, you would have heard the cheers from your friends. A minute later, you would have heard the gags and them scurrying away when Eddie stuck his tongue in your mouth. You would have heard Steve mumble “atta’boy” before leaving you two alone, but you didn’t hear anything other than your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

All of your senses were consumed by Eddie. His mouth was soft and gentle like he didn’t want to break you. He tasted like cranberries and bourbon. His tongue broke through, and you let out the slightest whimper as your hands moved from his cheeks to his waist…. His tight little waist that you have been drooling over since you saw him in that tight black tank top with his coveralls hanging off his waist, sweat dripping down his chest and grease-stained skin. When you walked into his work for the first time all those months ago. He was pure sex appeal that day, and you hadn’t seen him the same way since.

Eddie’s hands crept up from the waistband of your pants, slipped up under your shirt and grazed the soft skin of your back. Goosebumps spread throughout your whole body as Eddie continued to pull you closer to him.

You could have been there for a minute or an hour, you didn’t know, but the moment finally broke when Dustin walked back into the kitchen for those special cookies you’d brought.

“Oh my god! Get a room” he rolled his eyes, and the two of you broke apart, not realizing you were sucking face and feeling one another up in the middle of Steve’s kitchen like you were two teenagers.

A rush of blood spread across Eddie’s face. His lips were just as red as his cheeks. Your face was also just as hot. You could feel the rush of blood travel up your chest to your throat and across your cheeks as you took in what had just happened.

An uncomfortable giggle left your lips, and Eddie swore he heard angels singing. A smile broke on his face, and you felt at ease.

“You wanna get out of here?” Eddie reaches out a hand. You grab it while frivolously nodding your head. Eddie pulls you through the crowded house, trying to slip past everyone.

“Get it, Eddie!” “That’s my boy!” “Finally!” “About damn time!”

All your friends shout, and you hide your face in Eddie’s chest while he pulls your coat out from the closet.

Eddie giggles as Steve approaches the both of you, blocking the door.

“So when’s the wedding? Do I get credit? Or does Eddie? 'cuz he asked me to set up this elaborate ruse?” he wiggled his eyebrows at the two of you.

“What?” You looked at Eddie, and he chuckled uncontrollably.

“I’m going to have to cut you off, man. No more Christmas cocktails for you.” he swiped the crystal glass from Steve’s hands and chugged the rest.

“Hey!” Steve drunkenly protested.

“What’s he talking about Ed’s?” You giggle.

“Ol’Eddie here asked me to help divide a plaaaaan to get yo-” Eddie cupped a hand over Steve’s mouth and smiled at you with the biggest grin that said he was guilty.

“Real smooth, Munson,” you playfully roll your eyes.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He stepped closer and lifted your chin up to him. He was so cocky, but it made your stomach do a summersault at his touch.

“Ok, turtle doves, get out of here already and make a little drummer boy,” Steve winked.

“Ew, you're gross Steve! Ed’s right, no more cocktails for you.” Robin grabbed Steve by the arm and whisked him away while you and Eddie giggled out the door.

“So you’ve been wanting to kiss me?” You bite your lip as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Yeah,” he sighed as he pushed up against the car while looking into your eyes.

“You know you didn’t need to drag Steve into it” you giggle.

“Well, where’s the fun in that baby?” He whispered before leaning in to kiss you again. Your body felt it was on fire even though it was below freezing outside. You didn’t care. Eddie’s warmth was enough, and his warmth was indeed the thing that kept you warm for the rest of that night.

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson imagine #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #Eddie Munson x friend reader #mechanic!eddie munson #mechanic!eddie x reader #older!eddie x reader #older!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x male reader

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simdertalia · 6 months

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🍁 Autumn Outdoors Set 🍁

Sims 4, Base game compatible. 31 items

While working on my next big WIP, I realized there were some other needed things, so I made this set first. Converted from WoW. Note some of the tree items are names as "bush", because when exporting they were named as such and placed the "trunk" below the ground line, but while editing these I decided to raise some to let them look like trees.

Always suggested: bb.objects ON, it makes placing items much easier. For further placement tweaking, check out the TOOL mod.

Contains: -24 tree, bush, & ground cover plant items, & 1 mushroom item | most items have multiple swatches -6 pieces for Stone Path | 10 swatches each -Cellar Door Decor | 1 swatch | 1513 poly

Type “autumn outdoors" into the search query in build mode to find quickly. You can always find items like this, just begin typing the title and it will appear.

📁 Download (SFS, No Ads): HERE

📁 Alt Download (still no ads): HERE

As always, please let me know if you have any issues! Happy Simming!

✨ If you like my work, please consider supporting me

★ Patreon 🎉 ❤️ |★ Ko-Fi ☕️ ❤️ ★ Instagram📷

Thank you for reblogging ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

@sssvitlanz @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters @coffee-cc-finds @itsjessicaccfinds @gamommypeach @stargazer-sims-finds @khelga68 @suricringe @vaporwavesims @mystictrance15 @public-ccfinds

The rest of my CC ✨🔮✨

#s4cc #ts4cc #sims 4 autumn #sims 4 fall #sims 4 plants #sims 4 foliage #sims 4 tree #sims 4 bush #sims 4 clover #sims 4 ivy #sims 4 mushroom #sims 4 outdoor #sims 4 autumn plants #sims 4 door #sims 4 cellar #sims 4 #sims 4 world of warcraft #simdertalia

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denny-artsss · 3 months

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What would Jax do or react to Gangle getting abstracted?

Ah, yes. The consequences of his actions.

Whether her abstraction was caused by him or not, he would nevertheless feel extreme guilt, for the simple fact alone that he treated her poorly. Desperately trying to fix her mask as in his delusion he believes there is still time to save her if he fixes his mistakes.

Once realization hits him, he would do one of two things:

1. Lock her in her room and pretend she's okay, that she only wants to isolate herself, in order to keep her from being put in the cellar. If the picture on her door gets automatically crossed out by the game, he would draw over it with the limited amount of drawing skills he learned from Gangle.

2. If she gets put in the cellar, he would gather all her broken masks and repair them. Keeping them around his room or just carry one with him at all times. (In his overalls pocket if possible.) He would lay down on the floor where the cellar is, to hear her growl or just to feel like he's closer to her, day by day being eaten alive more and more by guilt and grief, until he eventually abstracts himself.

Bonus?:

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #gangle #jax #ribbun #jax x gangle

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sserpente · 7 months

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Memories to Enemies 🎃

Synopsis: The TVA is no more—not like it was before, anyway. When the multiverse breaks free, Loki finds himself back where he belongs, on the verge of claiming the throne of Midgard and this time… this time he finishes what he started. But while he’s gained so much, he’s lost even more, for there was one thing the chaos of the timelines had not fixed—it hasn’t brought you back to him. You, the mortal he had refused to fall for until he realised it was too late all along. He never stopped searching for you after Thanos snapped his fingers and now, with so many timelines at the tip of his fingers and a tempad in his pocket… you were out there somewhere and he will find you. But when he finally does… he realises that not only are you the leader of the very rebels aiming to end his ruling, you are a Variant. And you don’t remember him.

A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN, people! 🎃 Requests from two anons. There are no spoilers for Season 2 in this. I’ll have some more spooky Halloween Imagines coming up this week (I hope), I just didn’t manage to get any writing done as I had initially planned because I spent the whole weekend queueing at Comic Con, haha!

Words: 2407 Warnings: smut

Additional NSFW warnings: edging, very light dub-con

“The rebels are causing trouble again, my king.”

“Which is to say you are unable to deal with a bunch of disobedient humans?” Loki looked up, legs spread on the makeshift throne in what used to be Stark Tower. He lifted his chin, his menacing glare all but intimidating the former politician, now reduced to nothing more than a lackey.

“N-no, of course not. I just thought you should know. They… they made it to the lower levels of the tower last night.”

Loki narrowed his eyes, leaning forward a little. “Who did?”

“The rebels, their leader… we caught her face on camera but… security managed to overwhelm them. I believe they were trying to plant explosives somewhere in the building.”

“Where are they now?”

“They’re being held in the cellars.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “You should have led with that, you fool. Send them up. No… bring me their leader. I believe it is time we have a little chat about where her… loyalties lie.”

The politician nodded and excused himself. Silence filled the room after he left and Loki sat back again and sighed. Those rebels were hardly a threat to him but if they had made it to the tower… he would have to up his game and patch the holes in his security. A spell or two should suffice. Possibly something that would make any uninvited guest grow mushrooms all over their body should they trespass.

If only… he sighed once more. If only he had you by his side. You had always loved this time of the year, made him hand out sweets for children and carve out pumpkins. After all this madness… he still had not found you again. You had been snapped away in the sacred timeline, so he had found out… and even though the now-forgotten Avengers had reversed the titan’s doing, you remained unfound, out of his reach. Wherever you were… he would tear every single timeline apart until he had you back by his side. Would you be overjoyed, to see him where he belonged? On the throne, ruling as he was meant to be?

“The prisoner, my king.” The politician returned after the metal elevator doors swung open yet again, dragging with him a young woman who carried herself quite regally despite her predicament. She lifted her head, her hair revealing her face…

Loki’s face dropped. It was you. You… you were the rebel foolishly trying to put an end to his reign? Desperation and relief paired with anger and disappointment, the sadness that had been residing deep in his heart after he had lost you not quite going away. Something was off.

“Leave her here. Get out.”

“No security, my king?”

“I can handle a mortal woman. Now get out.”

The politician nodded and left without another word all the while you kept on staring at Loki as if you were ready to plunge a dagger into his chest any moment. You probably were—and it broke his heart a lot more than he would have liked to admit.

Your eyes widened when he spoke your name. “So you already know me then.”

“Know you? I have been looking for you for years, pet.”

You blinked. “Pet?”

Loki’s face fell when he realised. You did not know. You did not recognise him. You did not… love him yet. It mattered little, now did it? He would make you love him again, he would restore your memories. Were you a Variant? Had you met him? Had Thanos’ horrors taken your memories? He had to find out, needed to find out.

“You will not believe me, of course. But you were in love with me. I lost you when Thanos snapped his fingers. My path, too, changed. That is a story for another time. Come here, pet. It is so good to see you,” he purred.

Containing his emotions and his excitement had never been so difficult. He all but longed to jump up from his throne and sweep you up into his arms, holding you close until you struggled to breathe. But he didn’t. He wanted you to come to him. Only you remained frozen in place. He could practically feel the defiance radiating from you.

“I’m not falling for your stupid tricks, Loki.”

The God of Mischief smirked. “Would you like me to prove it, pet? Ah, let’s see… I just so happen to know you love Halloween. Carving out pumpkins… handing out sweets to children… watching scary films and eating this disgusting snack you call popcorn… and of course, how could I forget, the hot chocolate with small marshmallows and whipped cream on top? It’s reserved only for months that have the letter ‘r’ in them, no?”

Loki watched with great satisfaction how your lips parted in shock. He stood, taking a step forward. “What else… ah…” He tilted his head. “There is a particularly sweet and sensitive spot on your body that has you absolutely feral for your lover. It is… right… here.” He took another step and brought his hand up to brush his thumb over the spot right below your ear. You shivered, clenching your jaw.

“Lies… y-you’re… you’re tricking me.”

“No tricks,” he purred, “only treats.”

To Hel with the restraint. With a low growl, Loki pulled you close, lifting you off your feet. Your rather pathetic resistance died quickly once you realised that you weren’t going anywhere. Loki was too strong—you’d do well to save your strength for when it truly mattered. But… did you want to?

Why, on Earth, was there a part of you that enjoyed his touch? The way he looked at you… so full of hope and lust… that could not be acted, could it? To win over the leader of the rebellion, make her compliant… was that his plan? Or was he telling the truth?

And if he was, then what would have ridden you to dedicate your life to stopping him at all cost? Heavens, last night, you had attempted an assassination.

Loki put you back down on your feet once you reached his bedroom. He had redecorated, of course. Everything was green and gold, even his bed sheets. It looked… beautiful. Homely, almost and faintly familiar.

A shiver brought you back from the depths of your mind when Loki sneaked his hand under your shirt, slowly pushing it up.

“Do you truly think it’s a coincidence you react this way to me?” He tilted his head, smirking when you flinched at his fingertips ghosting over your bare stomach. He was right. He was so right and you hated it. Part of you wanted him—right here and now. The other part was seething and then, yet another… wanted to give in to his advances out of curiosity.

“Why… why don’t I remember then?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, pet. We will restore your memories. You could be a Variant—a version of yourself from another timeline who has not yet met me. We will worry about this later. I missed you.”

He sounded so… genuine, so full of relief. It was not hard to believe him. But how could you? You hated this man, you loathed how he had taken Earth for himself and declared himself its ruler… you would never kneel before him… right?

Why were you questioning yourself? Perhaps… perhaps it was for when you gazed into his blue eyes, you detected just how troubled his soul was. There was more to this than tyranny. More than a hunger for power.

You ceased to resist when he pulled your shirt off of you. Mesmerised, dazed… perhaps even charmed, you lifted your arms for him to remove it and then allowed him to make short work of your trousers. Only a few more moments passed until you stood completely naked before him, breathing heavily.

His kiss was soft when he held your chin with two fingers, almost as if testing the waters. Your eyes… your eyes fell shut. Why… how did this feel so good?

“Give in to me, pet. Let me show you.”

You bit your lower lip. “I’m supposed to hate you.”

He chuckled. “Why yes… We can speak about your little rebellion after I have had my fill of you. You always longed to be by my side, pet. What changed?”

“I don’t know you.” And perhaps that was the reason. You did not know him. Did not yet see behind the mask. Would things be different if you did? You could have tried to kill him the very moment you stepped out of the elevator. So why hadn’t you? Would you, under different circumstances, support his cause? Aid in his rule? Rule… by his side? That was such a silly thought, wasn’t it?

And yet… even though the arrogant god kept calling you his pet… the way he looked at you made you feel like he regarded you as his equal. Maybe your subconscious knew that there was more to it. Maybe your soul had recognised him.

“Then I will make you know me again. You, my darling, are the one good thing that has ever happened to me. I will not give you up.”

You swallowed, unsure of whether you should regret the words that left your lips next. “S-show me.”

“With pleasure.” Loki smirked, lifting you up once more. The warm leather of his armour against your naked skin made you whimper but it was gone within a heartbeat, melted off his body in a green hue of his magic. It felt tingly, familiar… as if you’d felt it a million times before.

The God of Mischief crawled above you, spreading your legs as he did. Skin against skin, he towered above you like the king he was, his raven hair framing his handsome face. You resisted the urge to reach up and stroke his cheek—just about, for when he leaned down and assaulted your neck with his lips, you dug your nails into the soft bed sheets instead, fighting, desperately, for composure your body was eager to give up.

Every touch, every kiss… it felt right. And you were craving more.

A gasp escaped your lips when Loki sank his length into you with but one deep stroke—it was both out of pure bliss at his size and surprise at how wet you were. How had him undressing you slowly done that?

Deep and languid thrusts soon drove you to the brink of madness. No one… no one had ever fucked you as well as Loki was fucking you right now, and the fact that he seemed to know exactly what turned you on almost filled you with fear.

The intense eye contact, the gentle touches, the soft dominance radiating from him… without a doubt he would pin you against the bed if you so much as attempted to flip around and ride him instead without… without asking for permission?

You whimpered at the thought, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You were close already. Loki was working his magic… firm and yet gentle, you felt it teasing your clit, applying just enough pressure to bring you closer and closer to climax. Once he had you there, right on the edge, the delicious pressure eased, his rhythm speeding up.

“You’re enjoying it…” Loki purred—his tone smug, if anything. You groaned.

And then, once again… he pushed you toward that blissful cliff only to stop—again—right before you could fall. You realised soon enough what he was doing. He was edging you. No one… no one knew about your filthiest desires and kinks. So how did he? He really was telling the truth, wasn’t he?

You pretended to hate this but you loved it… loved how he was in control of your pleasure, able to take it away if he so wished… urgh.

“What is it, pet, hmm? Did you want something?” His strokes were relentless—how he managed not to rut into you like a beast you had no fucking clue.

“P-please…” you choked out, “…let me cum.”

Loki tilted his head. “I think you can do better than that.”

Another grunt on your end but this time, you were ready to throw hands—only the God of Mischief above you didn’t let you. The invisible force tormenting your clit wrapped around your wrists like invisible shackles, holding them in place.

“Please…” you repeated, “…I need to cum. Stop… teasing me…”

“Let me hear it one more time, pet. Scream for me.”

A groan of frustration escaped your lips. All helpless beneath him, there was nothing you could do but endure his torturing treatment. Your toes curled, that all too familiar knot in your lower stomach tightening…

“Oh, fuck, please, please, PLEASE! Just… LET ME CUM ALREADY!” Loki chuckled—he chuckled and then, finally, the delicious pressure on your clit returned. And this time… it didn’t stop again. You tensed up, all air knocked from your lungs as your orgasm washed over you. Contracting around Loki’s cock who did not stop rocking into you for a second, fucking you right through your moment of utter bliss until he too, came.

Loki’s moans were quite possibly the sexiest thing you had ever heard as he buried himself inside of you as deep as he could, coating your walls with his seed, twitching and jerking.

He rested his forehead against yours then, eyes closed—content, at ease… and so unlike what you had expected from a tyrannical ruler.

This… it had felt like your bodies were made for each other. Perhaps they were.

“I want to remember. I want you to prove to me that you’re not the evil tyrant I imagine you to be,” you said, breaking the silence.

Loki chuckled. “Hmm… ever so demanding, pet.”

“Why are you calling me that?”

“Because it turns you feral, am I not right?”

You bit your lower lip. Yes, damn it, he was right.

“We will find a way to restore your memories, I swear it. You are mine.” You shivered when he spoke your name. “You are the very reason I am not a tyrant. Whatever you see, whatever you believe… Midgard is in good hands—it is your home realm, after all.”

“So I’ll just have to trust your word? The word of a Trickster?”

Loki smirked. He knew. He knew that your heart already did.

"Yes. Now then... shall we carve a pumpkin together, pet?"

A/N: Party hard tonight! 🎃

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hometoursandotherstuff · 2 months

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This 1999 house is soon to celebrate it's 1st anniversary of being on the market. Why can't it sell? Located in Presto, PA it has 5bds, 7ba, $4.5M. So far, no price reduction and it's been on the market 345 days.

So, here's the grand entrance. I think I like it- the pale pink, gold and black.

The sitting room is immediately to the left of the front door.

Across the entrance hall from the sitting room is a large dining room with double fireplaces on either side of the wall.

The kitchen is gigantic and I love the pale pink walls.

Burgundy living room. There's a terrace outside and a contrasting fireplace.

Staircase has an interesting railing. I like it. Lighted murals line the walls.

The office at the top of the stairs is richly done in wood paneled walls.

The primary bedroom is gigantic and done in tones of gray & dusky purple.

The en-suite bath is insane. It's bigger than my apt. and even has a hair salon station.

Check out this black & white bedroom.

Also up here is a bathroom with a kitchenette.

On an upper level is this cool spacey family room. I don't even know what that is, but I like it.

Rooftop deck.

Incredible kids playroom.

Going down to the lower level. Gorgeous fountain.

Down here you have your own little town.

Looks like they have a small buffet set out here.

On to the winery.

The wine cellar looks like a cute little wine shop.

I want a pink pool/game room.

The golf simulator.

Beautiful home theater.

Look at the sun rooms on the top of the house. I don't know why it hasn't sold. It's an incredible home.

The 1.92 acre lot includes a golfing green.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/6200-Crown-Pl-Presto-PA-15142/59844949_zpid/

#mansions #estates #midnight dreamers #houses #house tours #home tour

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notbadforafailedvessel · 11 months

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Alcina/Neko!Reader - Part II

Part I

Now that I think about, I could have cut this part in three... because this ended up being incredibly long! But whatever, enjoy it all at once, hehe.

Your presence in Castle Dimitrescu became quite the adventure.

Alcina soon discovers that as long as she was with you, you walked as a human, but if you were wandering on your own (which she clarified you were free to do because it wouldn't be fair to keep you around with nothing to do while she worked), you preferred to turn your hands and feet into paws to move as an animal since in that way, you were nimbler. And since you still weren't familiarized with the place, it was handier.

The first challenge you encounter is with Alcina's daughters.

They aren't happy with having to share their mother's attention with you and they made it fairly obvious.

Alcina never told them you were out of limits, wanting to test your abilities.

To you, she simply said that you do whatever you need to do to protect yourself. Knowing that if you managed to reach any of them or vice versa, you wouldn't cause any real damage beyond their pride.

The girls would never admit it, but they were impressed by your agility and deep down, they enjoyed and had fun with your chases.

Their worst mischief ocurrs when they lure you towards the cellar in their fly form, where they locked you into the darkness, which wasn't really a problem to you since you could see in it, making you aware that the place is filled with monsters like the one that attacked you on your arrival.

Completely ignorant to how important that room was to the lady of the castle, you jumped from barrel to barrel carelessly, kicking many of them towards the floor as you dodged the monsters to take a proper position to attack them, only noticing the spilled liquid that came from them when you slipped in a puddle but it doesn't stops you from recovering quickly to continue with the battle.

Alcina, during a break from work, tunes your heartbeat, standing in the next second when she realizes how accelerated it is, followed by a commotion.

When she finds her daughters cackling in front of the cellar's door, Alcina knows that nothing good could come from it. Growling at them to move, she heads to the cellar.

You feel proud of yourself when the lights turn on and you can witness your achievement, having got rid of the monsters on your own. However, your smile disappears when you see how discontent Alcina looks.

Despite knowing it wasn't your fault, Alcina feels the rage taking her over after watching all the wasted product. In a few long strides she reaches you, taking you by the back of your neck like a cat, lifting you up effortlessly.

You shrink into yourself, immediately reading the mood, trying to become smaller, trembling when she turns her head to you, her features twisted in anger.

It's tempting to retaliate, but despite her wrathful fog, Alcina perceives you trembling with fear, your big eyes widened with distress, shining with unshed tears. And for the first time, such image doesn't suits her well.

She takes a deep breath with closed eyes to calm a bit, and cradles you in your arms in the next second. She waits a moment in that position, trying to give you some sense of security before setting in motion without letting you go.

The girls are waiting outside, almost expectant to see some kind of drama, but Alcina pretends nothing happened, giving them the order to clean up the mess and go find new maidens to recover the losses.

In silence, she takes you to her chamber, placing you at the end of the bed, standing on the edge. You are still tense, unsure what to expect and the silence doesn't do anything to soothe your nerves.

You fidget with your tail. "My Lady, I-"

"Quiet, pet," she silences you with a soft tone. "I can't blame you for this." She holds you by the chin so you look at her. "But after this unfortunate event, I shall make clear that the cellar is now forbidden for you and my daughters' games. I will let them know about this new rule too."

You nod earnestly. "Understood, my Lady."

For a beat she remains serious but then she chuckles. "Time to get you clean, pet." You imagine a bath is coming your way, but with a gloved finger she collects some of the bloodwine in your arm and then put it in her mouth, moaning appreciatively. The sensual act makes you blush. "I can't let this go to waste."

Alcina doesn't asks for consent, at least not verbally. She keeps your eyes on your face, reading your expressions as she undresses you slowly, giving you the time to stop her.

You are not naive to not understand her intentions but you don't even consider to put a stop to it. The most time you spend with her, the most you crave from her.

Once you are naked, she leans down to lick you clean, starting on your neck and working her way down your body, avoiding any part that would make the act sexual instead of simply intimate.

Nonetheless, it makes you tremble with desire, reason why she wraps an arm around your waist when she notices your legs wobble.

Finishing with your body, she puts her free hand on your neck, her fingers on your jaw so she can move your head as it suits her as she licks the bloodwine on your face.

She takes advantage of your gasps to slid her tongue inside your mouth, brushing yours fleetingly as she press her lips against yours.

The contact barely lasts a second but it's enough to add more impact to your already stimulated body. Lightheaded, you wonder if this was some sort of punishment even when she claimed she couldn't blame you for what happened.

Chuckling at your disarranged state, Alcina takes you in her arms once again, finally taking you to the bathroom to bathe you properly.

Alcina lived in a constant state of tenderness and flusteredness because of you.

Luckily for you, her affection for you it's stronger and she only resorts to scolding you or making clear that you can't do whatever it pleases you.

Like she will once this dinner it's over.

You had been invited to join the meals of your Lady and her daughters since the very first day and today wasn't the exception but this time you did something you have never done.

You feel sleepy, due to an exhaustive chasing with the girls that lasted several hours and the food only highlighted such state.

Mother and daughters fall into conversation, Alcina happily listening to the girls' affairs.

You get off the chair, rubbing your eyes to then turn your hands and feet, sitting on your butt with bended legs on the floor next to Alcina's chair, keeping one arm extended in front of you while licking your other paw to groom yourself.

It doesn't take long to feel Alcina's hand on your head, making you push your against her hand enthusiastically.

Her ministrations aren't helpful for your sleepy state and you can only think in the comfort she provides, the warmth that would surround you if you were closer to her.

Without thinking, you hop into her lap, fleetingly nuzzling your face in her neck before lying down in a curled up position, your purring reaching every corner of the room, completely unaware of the women's reactions.

Alcina looks down at you speechless, the hand with which she had been caressing you, hovering idly.

In other circumstances ─ more precisely, in the presence of the Lords and Mother Miranda ─ she would have reacted very different, and the outcome wouldn't have been pleasing for neither of you.

Thankfully, this time she can be reckless. But a serious conversation with you is bound to happen once you wake up.

Alcina cradles your head softly, her thumb brushing one of your ears, making her smile subtly when you smile in your sleep.

Gazing up while her hand rests protectively on the side you had been hurt months ago, she finds her daughters smiling like the cat who ate the canary, and she channels her Lady Dimitrescu persona for a second. "Not a single word." Afterwards, she clears her throat, taking a sip of her wine regally and smiles softly. "Continue, sweet Bela."

You wake up hours later, Alcina's lap no longer your resting place but you are still lying in a comfortable and soft spot, and when you open your eyes, your eyes find your Lady next to you on her bed, leaning against the headboard, reading a book.

"Have you rested well, pet?" She places the book on the nightstand and the glasses she was wearing on top of the book.

You cover your face with your paws while you stretch, then yawn. "Yes, my Lady." Though you scoot towards her with the intention to fall asleep again.

A hand on your shoulder stops you, making you pout and look up with a disgruntled expression.

"There's something I need to speak with you, pet. Something important and that can't wait."

You worry, wondering what could you have done to upset your lady, your mind already overworking with possible scenarios of your dismissal.

"Easy, pet." She shifts to her side to face you, resting on her arm. "Technically, you haven't done anything wrong. But what occurred in the dinner room can't happen again."

You frown, not understanding. If you haven't done anything wrong, why it couldn't happen again?

"At least not whenever it pleases you. You have known Mother Miranda and the other Lords. I have an image to maintain in front of them."

You still remember the day as it had happened yesterday. Your Lady had told you about them before their arrival and after finding out Mother Miranda was a scientist, you wanted to go hide in a room and come out until they were gone.

Alcina warned you to behave, and it had requiere a huge effort not to react in anyway when the leader entered the castle. You were scared and wondered why you had to be there even when Alcina explained that it was better to introduce you than trying to keep a secret from Mother Miranda.

Since your experience with scientists wasn't a good one, you were expecting to be taken away to be studied even when Alcina tried to reassured you that that wouldn't happen.

And your Lady had been right. Mother Miranda had looked at your way once, scrutinizing you up and down as if she was scanning you, capable to find out right in that moment that you weren't fitting for whatever she needed, and she had let out a snort afterwards, making a mocking comment to Alcina about what a good mother she was for getting a kitten for her daughters.

It hurt your pride but she never looked your way after that time, so only for that reason you were able to let it go.

"Do you understand, pet?" There was an edge on her tone, not appreciating having to fish for a response.

"Yes, my Lady." You gazed up. "I would never do that in front of them. I would never do anything to embarrass you," you promised, wanting to be a good thing for her and not a nuisance. "But-" you trailed off, hesitating.

"Speak your mind, pet." Her words might be slightly harsh but she was caressing your jaw with the back of her index finger softly.

"But what about when it's only you and I, my Lady, could I-?"

Alcina ponders for a moment. "Only when I'm not working and you have to wait until I allow you to do it."

You have mixed feelings about it. On one hand, you want to be selfish and take what you want whenever you want to as your nature whispers you to do and what usually gets you in troubles. On the other, you had never known about sincere care and interest for you until you meet your Lady, and you know that's something you won't risk losing.

You nod. "All right, my Lady." You smile and feel your heart fluttering when Alcina grins back at you.

"What a good pet." She buries her face in the crook of you neck, nuzzling your jaw with her head, acting as if she was a cat. She brushes your neck with her lips. "Such a good pet."

You close your eyes when you feel her teeth scraping your skin, knowing what's coming, letting out a whimper when she sinks them in.

Drinking slowly from you, savouring you, Alcina rolls over you, careful not to put all her weight on you, but enough for you to feel a satisfying pressure.

You grasp your Lady's shoulders, digging your claws for her to feel but without breaking her skin, dragging a moan from the woman.

"Mine." She grunts against your neck, making you shiver due to the vibration and the possessiveness she exuded.

Sitting on the couch in Alcina's office with your limbs and tail tucked under your body, resembling a loaf of bread, you stare at the maid who enters after knocking on the door to deliver a package until she leaves the two of you alone once again, hurrying to get out after making quick eye contact with you.

The staff was no longer very fond of you after the day you attacked one of the maids, taking away her life to rip her heart out to gift it to your Lady.

Alcina doesn't react at the box placed on her desk until hours later, once she's done with her work, when you are sleeping lightly. She smiles smugly after opening it.

"Come here, sweet pet."

Despite you are waking up, you are quick and nimble to stand up, transforming your paws to hands and feet, hurrying to your Lady's side. You wait next to her chair, looking up at her expectantly and when she pats her lap with one hand, you climb to straddle her happily.

She strokes your cheek, triggering your purring. "I have a gift for you."

You look down when she presents you the box she's holding for you to see, gasping in awe at the leather choker with the Dimitrescu crest resting proudly in the middle.

You reach out to touch it reverently with your fingertips. "For me?" you ask skeptically, not used to such gestures despite it wasn't the first time your Lady gave you something. Since your arrival, your wardrobe had increased thanks to her. But somehow you knew this was different, and much more valuable.

Alcina hums, taking the choker out of the box, leaving the latter on the desk. "I want you to have something that will always remind you of who you belong to. More importantly, to remind everyone who sets their eyes on you... who you belong to." She puts the choker in your neck, capable to close the clasp without looking at it. A pleasant sensation washing her over at the result.

You follow her hands until she's done with the task, raising your head to look at her. "I-I belong to you, my Lady?" you ask with wonder.

Alcina grins intimidatingly though you know it's not aimed to you. "Of course, pet. My pet. I got you first, you are mine." She wraps her hand around your neck, squeezing softly, not to hurt but as if she was looking to leave the choker's mark on your skin. "You are mine to look after. Mine to touch. Mine to kiss. Mine to taste. Mine to possess. Mine to do every single thing I want... isn't that right?" She wasn't asking due to uncertainty, simply because she wanted you to voice your surrender to her.

You gulp, momentarily closing your eyes as your body arches towards hers. Alcina's laugh make your ears flutter at the divine sound, and you are overjoyed when she wraps her arm around your waist, soothing your desperation to be closer when she pressed your front against hers, your hands finding her shoulders.

"Yes..." you whisper, your voice trembling but with your next words your tone is louder and firmer. "Yours, my Lady, ever only yours." Your hands slide towards her neck, your fingertips ghosting her jaw.

Alcina raises an eyebrow, almost like she was reading your mind and daring you to do what you wanted to do. And despite knowing there could be consequences for acting before your Lady approved it, you couldn't deny that you enjoyed her punishments because it usually meant keeping you at her side all day, doing things to keep her in a good mood or spend all day aroused.

Even when you were the brattiest and she resorted into something physical and you had trouble sitting comfortably, you never felt unsafe or scared because Alcina carefully keeps an eye on you to be conscious of your limits.

But so far she has never crossed a line, giving you comfort and reassurance afterwards; and you took pleasure in the soreness her hands left in your body, which you considered another way to mark you even when not always it was visible.

So you dare to hold her face in her hands, tilting her head as if you truly could have some control over her. She growls as if annoyed but she smirks before you press your lips against hers.

"I'm yours as much as you are mine, my Lady," you claim conceitedly.

Alcina doesn't denies it. She can't, knowing you are aware because you thrive on all the attention she gives you, noticing how different it is from the one she gives to others. Nonetheless, she narrows her eyes, golden eyes shining with only one purpose.

And when she grabs your ass with her free hand, squeezing it, you know the next following days, every time you sit down, you are going to be reminded of your cheekiness.

But when Alcina kisses you again, taking total control of you with her tongue and lips, you are more than clear that you wouldn't have it any other way.

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #hd.txt #hdad.txt #writing this was more fun than i anticipated!#and way longer than i expected... i got inspired lololol #txt: ad

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linuxgamenews · 2 years

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Rogue Legacy 2 sequel port is almost here, finally

Rogue Legacy 2 roguelite platformer game coming soon to Linux with Windows PC. Thanks to the ongoing work and effort of Cellar Door Games with the help of Ethan Lee. Which is available on Steam with 91% Very Positive reviews. Famed roguelite, Rogue Legacy 2, officially launched into 1.0 in April 2022. Doing so after a fantastic Early Access period. Officially releasing onto Windows PC. The sequel to the genre-defining Rogue Legacy now marks the occasion with more good news. The game is finally due to release on Linux support.

Now that RL2 has been released on the Nintendo Switch, we’re working on native versions for Mac and Linux (with the help of the incredible Ethan 'flibitijibibo' Lee) that we hope to have ready soon.

This is the long awaited detail from the Steam news post. The Unity 3D games is finally ready to release support for Linux and Steam Deck. Rogue Legacy 2 originally released into Early Access in August 2020. While enjoying more than 4,000 "Very Positive" reviews. The game has also built upon on its predecessor in almost every way. With an all-new art style, 3D characters set against stunning hand drawn backgrounds. While offering fresh weaponry, abilities, and classes. As well as brand new biome generation for greater strategic choice. So now, the depth of the game is vast.

Rogue Legacy 2 v1.0 Launch Trailer

youtube

Rogue Legacy 2 is more than just a sequel to our studio. It's build-up of everything over the last nine years. Ever since the release of the original. The developer has put everything we have into it. Knowing that fans both new and old will be experiencing it for the first time. With gameplay due to bring the same sense of fun and discovery. Ever since the original gave so many years ago - Cellar Door Games.

It's true! A native Linux version of Rogue Legacy 2 is on the way. (macOS too!) Thanks to everyone for their patience, I'm really happy with the current build so I'm optimistic that you'll be happy too, especially @OnDeck! https://t.co/JdAPNxMqCB

— Ethan Lee (@flibitijibibo) November 9, 2022

The sequel also brings in all new mechanics for players to explore. Such as Heirlooms to truly push that unique metroidvania feel. Which also gives your hero permanent abilities. On top of this, Rogue Legacy 2 greatly improves on its Traits. Due to bring greater value to their risk versus reward gameplay. As well as making major strides in accessibility to let players succeed. Even when they’re struggling: you'll now have complete control over how you want to play the game! Rogue Legacy 2 roguelite platformer game is available on Steam. Right now, offering a 20% discount, dropping the price to $19.99 USD / £17.59 / 17,59€. While native Linux support is coming soon with Windows PC.

#rogue legacy 2 #roguelite #platformer #linux #gaming news #cellar door games #ubuntu #steam deck #windows #pc #unity

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floralcyanide · 4 months

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⊱ 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝐺𝑜𝑙𝑑 ― 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 ⊰

[ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ]

1960s ᴜs ᴘʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴀɴᴅɪᴅᴀᴛᴇ!ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜs sɴᴏᴡ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒: 𝑔𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑟

౨ৎ 18+ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴏɴʟʏ !

⊹ summary: christmas and new year's eve are spent with coriolanus. ⊹ pairing: young!coriolanus snow / fem!reader ⊹ warnings: kissing, innuendo ⊹ word count: 3216 ⊹ author’s note: apologies for being so late with this! it was my birthday and then I've been on new depression meds so I've been super tired from them ): but here's chapter three!! I hope everyone enjoys (:

౨ৎ divider credit: @cafekitsune

౨ৎ sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴛ��ɢʟɪsᴛ | sᴇʀɪᴇs sᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ | sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

౨ৎ this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

❝Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate.❞ ― John F. Kennedy

You dive into your work full force on the 23rd, finally finishing Profiles in Courage and asking Jack your endless questions. All of which you scribble down in every available spot in your journal pages. Coriolanus has begun mapping out a campaign and slips the small pocket journal of ideas under your door late that night after the kiss. The two of you have shared looks with one another since but have yet to speak a word directly to your counterpart. For now, it seems your likenesses of each other’s goals are intertwined in the fact you are still working together for a common purpose. You had stayed up late that night, too. I delicately folded the golden rose in some tissue paper and wrapped it in a small box with string. Christmas Eve crawled through your window with the winter wind, and the taste of something metallic and sweet still lingered in your mouth.

“Do you think Santa will give Mister Coryo coal or a gift?” John Jr. asks you later that evening, briefly looking up from his figurines on the den floor where he sits beside Bobby Jr.

You try not to laugh at the outright question as Coriolanus is sitting across from you in his spot in that same chair he sits in, puffing his pipe with a playfully threatening look in his eye at your possible answer. You tread carefully, but not carefully enough.

“I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we, John John?”

Jack is in the joining area of the main floor, where the grand piano sits by the entryway, softly playing the notes to Carol of the Bells. Caroline is next to him on the piano bench, swinging her legs. Bobby is next to you, his nose deep in the newspaper from the morning as his wife Ethel shakes her head at her nephew.

Jackie approaches the sitting area with some cider, setting the tray down on the coffee table before the fireplace, “I’d hope Coriolanus has known to be good this year.”

You raise your eyebrows subtly as you pick up a teacup of the warm liquid, already knowing his gaze is on you, “Thank you for the drink, Jackie.”

“Not a problem. Thank you for being such a dear guest and being so dedicated to Jack’s legacy. We all appreciate it very much.”

The rest of the family resides near the cellar, where there’s a small table dedicated to poker and cigarette smoking, trying their best to keep it down as the game of cards progresses. It’s nearing bedtime for the children and much-needed adult time for the elders. Today and tomorrow are a little hard for you, but being around others makes it easier to bear. Being without family on Christmas can dampen the mood, and you wonder if Coriolanus feels the same way. You subconsciously let yourself look over at him to answer your question. He’s sitting with his leg crossed over the other, his foot relaxedly bouncing slightly as he stares into the fireplace. Coriolanus doesn’t have a book in his grasp for once as he absentmindedly takes a rather deep hit of his tobacco, letting himself exhale as his eyes flutter to yours. Almost as if he’s wondering how you’re doing and what you’re thinking, too. Your stomach flips as you place your teacup on its saucer respectively.

Ethel finally rounds the kids up for bed, and they all protest without surprise. Bobby Jr. demands a Christmas bedtime story, to which the others mutually agree. With a sigh, Ethel gives in. Jack rallies everyone, even those playing poker, to come gather around the fire in the den. You decide to offer your spot to Kathleen and opt for the arm of the chair that Coriolanus is perched in. His arm still rests where it was on the fabric, dangerously close to your back. Jack sits in the larger chair beside the fireplace, opening up The Night Before Christmas. All the kids lay or sit before him, chins on their fists as they listen closely. The family chuckles occasionally when Jack chides in a sound effect or makes a joking comment to the side. Jackie looks over to you and Coriolanus with an almost knowing look. You feel tense about it until she gives a soft smile before returning her focus to her husband. The story draws closer to the end as the children grow sleepy, and Coriolanus’ hand grows curious. His fingertips slowly draw up your hip and softly grasp it, hidden under your shirt enough to where others can’t immediately see it. You look behind your back subtly, your eyes cast down at Coriolanus as he stares ahead, unwavering.

The brothers and their father scoop up the boys and girls and carry them to their bedrooms, most of them half asleep or fighting it. Some of the adults oblige to their own beds calling, while others disperse elsewhere or remain in their respective spots. You’re one of the ones ready to call it a night, so you carefully move yourself from Coriolanus’ touch and off the arm of the chair. It feels cold where his hand had been when you stand up. The rest of your night is spent journaling at your desk until your eyes grow too heavy to remain open any longer. It feels like you closed your eyes for only a second before there’s a near pounding at your bedroom door. You peel your eyes open reluctantly to see the sun barely hovering over the horizon from behind the sheer curtains. With a sigh, you hear the pounding again, but this time upstairs and slightly to the right. Sliding on your slippers, you rub the sleep from your eyes before opening the door to reveal some of the Kennedy kids beaming up at you.

“And why didn’t you wake your parents first?” you raise an eyebrow, to which they argue that they knew you’d actually get up first.

You’re exiting the bathroom when you bump into Coriolanus, who has just come fumbling down the stairs.

“They got you up too, I see?”

You nod, “Yeah. I guess we’re the fun ones.”

Coriolanus turns his lips up into a smile before allowing you to walk in front of him to the den, where the kids wait patiently for the two of you to approach.

“How about we start some breakfast for everyone and then open gifts when they’re all awake? Sound good?” you ask.

Some of the kids groan, but most of the boys eagerly race to the kitchen at the sound of breakfast. Coriolanus lets you take the reins in the kitchen as he does whatever you ask of him on the side, obeying your orders. Slowly, the family trudged into the kitchen and dining room one by one until everyone was seated. The family grows louder with chatter and clattering of dishes, excitement filling the air.

“What do we say to our guests who made us this wonderful breakfast, kids?” Jackie asks, looking around at the children expectantly.

A jeer of thank-yous comes from everyone around the table, to which you and Coriolanus shrug off.

“The real deal is the one who brought the presents,” you wave your hand dismissively, “So let’s go see what he brought, shall we?”

The kids need no more to be said before they all bound over to the den, taking their spots on the floor as Jack and Bobby move to assign everyone their gifts. You and the other ladies agree to clean up after gifts, so everyone is busy with something then. As you walk toward the group of kids tearing into their gifts, Caroline runs up and hugs your legs, beaming at the books you got her. John Jr. does the same, delighted he has another comic to add to his collection. Before you can find somewhere to sit, Coriolanus pulls you to the side of the den and away from the others. He ushers a box into your hands.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Coriolanus.”

“Sure I did,” he says, nearly cutting you off.

You sigh, returning the box to him as you weave through to the mantle, where your gift for him sits. You hand Coriolanus the neatly tied box as you take your gift back from him. You open it to reveal a leather journal with your initial stamped in the middle, with quills and an inkwell in a smaller container along with it. You gasp at the color of the leather and how it feels under your touch.

“I can’t accept this-” you say, shaking your head as you look up at Coriolanus in shock.

Before you can carry on with your protest, you notice him holding the golden rose brooch in his hand as if it’d shatter if he dropped it. Coriolanus has an unreadable expression on his face as his eyes take in the simplicity of the accessory.

“It’s not much, but I thought of you when I saw it.”

“Thank you,” he says lowly, standing closer to you, “It’s just like the one my mother had.”

A solemn smile settles upon your features at his comment, and you reach out a gentle hand to place on his bicep, “The journal is beautiful, Coryo. Thank you. I’ll write in it properly.”

To that, Coriolanus laughs softly. Jack and Jackie approach you both with gifts from them and the family soon after. You all exchange gifts and soon begin cleaning up, preparing for the day of activity. Family photos had to be done, and dinner had to be prepped. More family is to come in, and so a nanny is brought in for the kids. You and the other women could handle only so much; plus, the New Year’s gathering would also be happening around the corner. Not to mention, you still have so much work to do before returning to D.C. in the New Year- your dissertation still needed to be worked on endlessly, and a presidential campaign had to be run quickly. Coriolanus had to return to D.C. for a few days to organize his campaign before returning to The Compound. You already know the next few days will be dull, but you were fine before Coriolanus was here, and you’ll be fine when he’s gone.

Watching him leave made you feel melancholic. In just a few days, you’ve grown close. You aren’t sure how you’ll acclimate the nanny when she arrives without the help of Coriolanus. But you’re sure you’ll manage. The rest of the day is spent attempting to start one of Jack’s other books. Your mind keeps wandering to what Coriolanus could be up to. When you’ve grown tired of writing notes for Why England Slept, you decide to review Coriolanus’ campaign ideas. While he has some really viable points, you still add some of your thoughts and plans. Coriolanus mentions he is unsure of where to start campaigning and talking to people. So, you make a note to go to places where the working class resides. Places most campaigners wouldn’t think of visiting- like rural Pennsylvania and coal mining areas in West Virginia. The corn farms of Ohio, the orchards of Florida, or the backwoods of Georgia. The votes of the majority of the United States are where the wins will come in. But before any of that comes the Iowa Caucus and the New Hampshire Primary. So you begin to pen your ideas for that.

Before you know it, it’s dinner time. And after that, bedtime. And the days begin to drag along gradually. On the 30th, Jackie and Ethel decide to go out for lunch in Boston and make a day of it. They invite you to come along, and you don’t hesitate to say yes, especially since you’ve been cooped up for a while. Jackie suggests you buy a dress for the New Year’s Eve party. You decide to get something classy yet attention-grabbing, especially since that night will be the first time in a few days you’ve seen Coriolanus. And boy, have the last few days without him made you grow frustrated in numerous ways. Every time you go to read, you grow distracted with thoughts of him. And every time you go to write for the campaign, you think of Coriolanus and how life would be like if he became president. You also wonder how your friendship will grow and if it’ll go any further. You try to push away these thoughts while you’re out with Jackie and Ethel.

“So,” Ethel drawls from beside Jackie as the three of you stroll down the sidewalk, “What’s with you and Coriolanus?”

You must compose yourself briefly before answering, “I’m unsure of what you mean?”

Ethel and Jackie chuckle, “Oh, don’t be daft,” Jackie jokes, “We see how you are with each other. Everyone does.”

You gulp nervously at the revelation, hoping you hadn’t made a fool of yourself, “It doesn’t necessarily mean anything, ladies.”

“We know young love when we see it, dear,” Jackie says, placing a hand on your bicep briefly, “But you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wish to.”

On your walk, you eventually find a dress shop and begin looking around there, searching for something golden and shimmery yet simple. You spot a dress that’s exactly what you’re looking for and go to try it on. It fits perfectly, so you buy it and some heels to match. Patiently, you wait until Ethel and Jackie have finished shopping. You all decide it’s best to go home and get ready for tomorrow, as it will be a hectic day. And it is busy from the second you wake up. John Jr. and Caroline wake you early to go play in the freshly fallen snow. After that, soup and a sandwich are served for lunch, and then you spend the day reading and writing. The party is growing nearer, so you decide to shower and get dressed. You wear a deep shade of red lipstick, one similar to blood, with your gold eyeshadow and light blush. Your hair falls loosely around your face as you study yourself in the mirror. Hopefully, you’ll catch Coriolanus’ attention with your looks tonight.

You hang around Kathleen and some of the other Kennedy ladies as hors d'oeuvres are set out and drinks are served. You don’t hesitate to have a glass or two of vodka crans with small amounts of food to sample. Everyone is loosening up as more people begin to show. A large turntable has been turned on with some Frank Sinatra playing throughout the house, and Bobby finds you to dance after having his turn with Ethel.

“Care to dance?” he asks with his charming Kennedy smile.

“Of course, I don’t mind, Bobby,” you smile back, accepting his outstretched hand.

The current Sinatra song is quick-paced, so Bobby tests your swing dance skills. The vodkas are doing their thing, and you’re trying your best not to giggle too much at Bobby and his antics. The song ends, and you allow Jackie to have her dance with the younger Kennedy. Taking a moment to step outside as it’s nearing midnight, you realize you’ve yet to see Coriolanus. Maybe he hasn’t gotten here yet, or he’s sneaking around as usual, not saying anything as he observes. Some other folks are outside smoking, wrapped in shawls or peacoats and discussing random things. You join in the conversation until everyone eventually dwindles away. You find a spot by the balcony, staring out at the moonlit ocean as the sound of icy waves crashes onto the beach. A waiter offers you a glass of champagne as it’s almost time to ring in the New Year. You take it despite being heavy with sadness. You had hoped you wouldn’t spend another New Year’s Eve alone, yet here you are. You swirl the champagne around the glass, hoping Jackie or the other ladies won’t find you out here and ask a million questions. When it’s finally ten minutes until midnight, you’re readying yourself to head back inside when a soft hand places itself on your waist. You turn quickly to see Coriolanus Snow behind you, clad in a pressed and prim suit, the golden rose brooch upon his lapel.

“Good evening,” Coriolanus smiles subtly, a glass of champagne in his hand as well.

“Good evening,” you say back, letting your eyes settle on his, “In pretty late?”

“I got here a few hours ago; I just haven’t been able to get away from talking to everyone here before finally getting to you,” Coriolanus sighs.

“Saved the best for last?” you joke, hoping you’re hiding your nerves well enough as he steps forward to you until he can no longer be any closer.

“Of course I did,” Coriolanus deadpans, reaching a hesitant hand up to your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I like your brooch, by the way,” you say, eyes darting to the shiny accessory.

“An absolute dear gifted it to me,” Coriolanus says, “I like the color of your lipstick,” he runs his thumb over your bottom with the hand he had to your face moments before.

Thankfully, the lipstick was matte drying, so it doesn’t come off when Coriolanus touches your lips. You try your best not to physically shudder as he doesn’t let his hand fall to his side but rather cups your cheek with it. Coriolanus pulls out his timepiece to check the time, and it’s a minute until twelve. The crowd inside begins counting down as you and the tall blonde before you hold eye contact without exchanging words. And as the clock strikes and the people inside the house cheer, the two of you neglect your champagne and connect lips. Coriolanus pulls you to him roughly by his hand on your jaw, his fingers sprawled on your ear, in your hair, and on your face. Your back is pressed to the balcony railing as your free hand glides through Coriolanus’ straightened and slicked-back blonde hair, pulling him closer to you. His tall figure looms over you despite the heels. Coriolanus moves his lips to your jaw and ear, leaving a trail of kisses along there. He unknowingly nips at a sensitive spot of yours, causing your breath to hitch. Coriolanus chuckles into your skin as he does it again on purpose, relishing in the sound you make.

“Meet me upstairs, second door on the right next to Jack’s office. I’ll be there in a little while- can’t be too obvious,” Coriolanus pulls away from you, his knuckle tracing along your jaw.

You look him in the eye, “Your room?”

Coriolanus stares at you wordlessly, his intense stare confirming that, yes, he wants you to meet him in his bedroom. You down the glass of champagne and put on your dazzling smile for everyone who bids you a Happy 1964 as you try your best to go upstairs unscathed. You finally do, and you close the door with a sigh as you brace yourself against the wood. What are you about to get yourself into? You aren’t sure, but nothing about this past year has been expected or sane in any way, so why not?

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the-kingshound · 10 months

Text

TW: graphic description of violence. Mention of kidnapping and torture. Hurt no comfort

The mask of his captor glints in the moonlight when they come too close and with a harsh hand pull his hair down, forcing him to tilt his head up. He needs a couple of seconds for his vision to clear, and even then his mind is too fogged up by pain to recognise what stands on the other side of the room... cell?

Arthur lets out a sound of distress when he finally manages to blink into focus the person who stands there.

Saraah.

"No no, let him-" his plea his immediately silenced by a hard slap that pushes his head to the side.

Arthur breathes heavily and for long moments the cellar is quiet. Something drips in the background, but Arthur is so disoriented they can't tell what it is. They ache at the loss of Excalibur by their side, so in need of comfort right now.

"I will play a game with your Hound," the masked individual says, voice cutting and horribly distorted.

"Bitch don't you dare touch my sibling-" Arthur only hears the sound of a dull impact and a pained hiss. Something in their chest burns, cold dread turning into angry terror.

The masked captor now rounds on Sarahh, letting out a growl and gripping his mouth.

"Do you want me to cut out your tongue? I don't need you to be whole for this to work. So shut up and stay still. I promise you'll see your precious baby sibling very soon."

---

You lost all your soldiers.

Not only was the hideout riddled with horrible traps, but filled with mercenaries from the South. Panting, your breath coming in short rasping sounds as you maim and kill another one of them, you think you can only go forward.

The letter was specific. Clearly a trap, but when the King was not found in their chambers you had no other choice. So you keep going, killing anyone who stands between you and your spouse with a brutal ruthlessness you wear only as the Hound.

The last one falls in the palm of your hand, their skull crushed. Where is your King? Your mind burns and screams.

You give the thick metal door that separates you from the inner cellar with a guttural growl, throwing it to the side as your combat magic flows through your veins burning scorching hot.

When your eyes adjust to the darkness in the room, though, you feel your heart drop.

Saraah?

"Ah, at last." A horrible voice comes, vaguely familiar. The person bearing it is masked, but something in them puts you terribly on edge. "I see you made quick work of my mercenaries. Well, no matter, for the real game starts now."

"You see," they sneer. "I hated you for a very long time. You believe yourself invincible but in truth your strength will fail you. I promise you this time there is no way out. You will have to make a decision and live with the consequences of your actions."

You see the chains attached to Arthur and Saraah's necks. Long, thick and reaching the opposite sides of the room. Anchored, for now.

No.

"Choose carefully, because even with your pretty magic you'll manage to reach only one in time."

Your ears ring. Your mind plunges into darkness, revolting against itself.

"Who will you save, hound? Your brother or your King?"

#angst #mc #arthur #saraah #THREE FOR ONE

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lulublack90 · 3 months

Text

Prompt 11 - Map

@jegulus-microfic February 11 Word count 924

Previous part First part

“I have a proposition for you,” Dumbledore said, his voice still quiet. Regulus knew whatever it was, he wasn’t going to like it, but it would probably be preferable to Azkaban.

“What do you want me to do?”

“You will turn spy for the Order. Whatever information you gather will be sent directly to us. It will, of course, be highly dangerous. I do hope your occlumency skills are well practised.” Regulus felt his blood run cold. In the back of his mind, he knew this was what would be asked of him.

He looked into Dumbledore’s steady eyes and knew he was just another piece to be used to win this giant game of chess the old wizard and Voldemort were playing. What Regulus needed to figure out was if he was a pawn or a piece of higher value.

“If you want me dead, Dumbledore, why not let your dog finish me off?” He pointed his chin in the direction of Moody.

“Because Mr Black, alive, you are useful.”

And that’s where he found himself, a spy for the order. He was no longer confined to the cellar, but he was still confined to the house while they came up with a plan.

“We could glamour him with bruises. That way, it’ll look like he escaped,” Sirius suggested.

“No, they’ll see right through that. The second he walks back through the door, they’ll finite him, and he’ll go back to normal.”

James and Sirius had been spitballing for hours about how to get Regulus back into Voldemort’s inner circle with the least amount of fuss.

“They need to be real. I’ll punch him if you want?” Remus put in, winking at Regulus.

“That’s actually not a bad idea.” Sirius nodded thoughtfully. Regulus had had enough.

“Oh, yeah, Sirius. Get your boyfriend to beat your brother up. That’s real nice.” James put a hand on his shoulder.

“Remus is strong and good at hitting just right. You’ll be well bruised, but he won’t waste a blow. You’d only need about three for enough bad bruising. Someone else that could give you ten and hardly leave a bruise.” Regulus mulled this over.

“Can you really do that?” He asked Remus. “Make it look good with that few strikes?” Remus shrugged.

“I’m good with my hands.”

“Yeah, he is.” Sirius felt the need to add his eyebrows wiggling to get the point across. Regulus, James and Remus all groaned at him.

“What? It’s true.” Sirius said innocently. “You’re the ones who took it the wrong way.”

“Only because you made sure we did.” Regulus and Sirius bickered back and forth until Remus stepped in.

“Right, so we’ve got his appearance down. We still have your robes, and they are ripped to shit where Mad-Eye got them. So, nothing to do there.” They all nodded along as Remus continued. “We need to sort out if Regulus makes a miraculous escape or if we set it up so he’s rescued. But if we go down the escape path. We could possibly use Sirius in this. You know, helping your brother escape. Or—” Regulus could see the quick calculations zipping behind Remus’s eyes. “Or, I do it. We use it as an in for me as well. They know I’m a werewolf, and they’ve been trying to get me for years. Greyback would welcome me with open arms. And then there would be two of us instead of just Regulus.” All excitement and joy left Sirius’s face, and Regulus watched his brother crumple before him in a way even Walburga had never managed to do.

“No,” His voice was hoarse. “No. I won’t let you. They’ll destroy you, Remus. I won’t let you.” Sirius grabbed Remus’s shoulders and shook him. “They’ll swallow you up, Remus. I can’t lose you.” Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius and slowly walked him out of the kitchen, leaving Regulus alone with James.

They stood silently for a while, waiting to see if Sirius and Remus were coming back. But when they heard Sirius’s motorbike fire up, they knew they wouldn’t be back for a while at least.

“Shall we finish going over those maps then?” James asked, breaking the silence. Regulus let out a sigh but pulled a map he’d been drawing towards himself.

There were three. Grimmauld Place, Malfoy Manor and Castle Lestrange. Regulus had spent hours walking around those houses in his youth, and since he’d left Hogwarts, waiting for others or on instructions. Sirius had helped where he could, mainly with Grimmauld Place, but Regulus knew more about the others, such as one of the many secret passages in Malfoy Manor that led from the library to the servant’s quarters. Even Mad-Eye had been impressed. The maps were going to be used to stage rescues and raids when Voldemort attacked the Ministry. Apparently, they had enough people to pull it off. They’d had to include Grimmauld Place, as that was a major meeting place for Voldemort supporters.

Sirius and Remus didn’t reappear until they were ordered to a few days later. Regulus had a feeling Sirius had been keeping Remus away to stop any more talk of him getting in with the werewolves and turning spy for the Order.

They sat around the kitchen table. Regulus, James, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, Mad-Eye and Frank.

“So,” Dumbledore started the meeting. “Have you come up with a plan?” The four young men looked between themselves. Regulus looked up and met Dumbledore’s pale eyes, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

“Yes.”

Next part

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