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#servants?
batfambyval · 7 months
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okay. So.
Serious Red Robin theory coming.
Tim wasn’t put in the Lazarus Pit. But. That doesn’t mean they didn’t use it on him. The pit’s healing properties have been shown to work in small portions. Like, the healing is proportional to the amount of lw used.
The cave with the pit isn’t exactly a sterile environment. So either the pit was needed or it was an attempt to put Tim off balance, a psychological weapon. Though the White Ghost’s reaction to the assumption seems to dispute that. If the pit’s healing is proportional to the amount used it makes sense that the psychological effects are to, along with the duration of those side effects.
Ra’s had serious reasons to use the pit on Tim, between the additional room for emotional manipulation and Tim’s life threatening injury which wasn’t immediately treated and was in fact exacerbated like, a lot… yeah. Tim lost a lot of blood. He lost was stabbed in the organ that filters blood: meaning all your blood passes through your spleen. He was bleeding out, he should have died, he dragged himself and another person to a car, drove said car back to the city, and got them both up to the penthouse. Recovering from that would take a long time, he shouldn’t have survived at all. But he healed quickly and well, it isn’t an issue, it happened and it was over. I know we as a fandom like to have fun with Tim’s missing spleen and what that means but… canon didn’t and looking back I feel like there was a lot pointing at the pit being used in a much more insidious was, not just in the logistics of Tim’s recovery.
Ra’s was insanely trusting of Tim. Not just in his ability to do what he wanted but in his belief that Tim would ultimately come around to his way of thinking. Now, I can obviously see that Tim was in a very vulnerable position and if Bruce hadn’t actually been alive Ra’s could definitely have succeeded. But it feels like more than that, especially with Tim’s ensuing behavior. A lot of his time with the league is glossed over or seen from Tam’s perspective, but Tim was acting different. It’s easy to attribute this to the objectively terrible situation and the year he’s had, but his behavior isn’t the same as it was at the beginning of the run either. And the difference in behavior fades. As Red Robin Tim is more ruthless and pragmatic, mostly due to necessity. Even stealing from a museum and fighting for it makes him incredibly uncomfortable. He still did it. But he was still acting like Tim, making jokes and doing his best to diffuse the situation and keep everyone alive. After the surgery his focus gets even more single minded. He barely puts up a fight about leading the league. Of course partly for Tam, and he tried to keep killing to a minimum but cmon. He was leading the league of ASSASSINS. There were assassinations happening. People died when he blew all the league bases and he barely registered that beyond thinking that the council of spiders probably made it out, implying part of him knew death was a possibility and he didn’t care. But he didn’t think about the moral implications of that in a way that was very reminiscent of Jason’s selective morality. If he had stopped to think about it he wouldn’t have done it, but he was focused to much on beating Ra’s, on not compromising, that the complexity of the situation didn’t sink in. The obvious effects of his actions, the possible deaths and injuries of anyone inside a league stronghold wasn’t acknowledged while the underlying message sent to his opponent was the only thing he could think about. Just like when Jason attacked Tim at Titans Tower to send a message to Bruce despite his hardline stance against hurting kids.
So. The League did use the pit on Tim, just a little. Maybe two tablespoons in the wound to accelerate recovery and weaken his morals a bit. It would certainly make a lot of sense. And the writer did change when Tim came back to Gotham so it’s entirely possible that it was meant to be touched on later but was discarded.
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tossawary · 4 months
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One of my personal nitpicks for historical fantasy is a lack of servants, staff, subordinates, and... idk... subjects? Like, their absence is not... a total dealbreaker for me, depending on the situations the characters are in and whether or not I can just assume that other people are there in the background... but so many of the protagonists in historical fantasy stuff are higher-ranking (very often royalty), and/or have busy jobs, and/or have enormous houses that would necessitate having at least part-time staff.
Like, girl, you should have a maid! WHERE is your chaperone?! WHO is driving this carriage?! Where are your footmen? Are you trying to imply that a WEALTHY DUCHESS is taking a CAB?! You know that you probably have tenants, right? Where is your steward?! Where is your lawyer? Your accountant?! (Like, yeah, you're not going to have your lawyer living in your house, but you HAVE one, right???)
Or, man, you're supposed to be a military commander and you don't even have a single secretary?! Where is your SQUIRE?! (In the spirit of historical fiction, I am jumping wildly across time periods with every sentence here.) Man, I know you aren't looking after your own boots. Where are your GUARDS?! Who set up this tent for you?! Who is looking after your horse?! Who is making and carrying the incredibly valuable maps people are recklessly stabbing daggers into?!
SOMEONE has to be scrubbing these floors and delivering the mail and cooking the meals and doing laundry, and they're probably all DIFFERENT people! My dentist has at least three different receptionists and we can't even get ONE for our court wizard here? A sorcerer's apprentice to take notes? Someone like Sherlock Holmes could get away with just having a housekeeper and taking taxis, sure, but your character is supposed to be a KING?! Why is he answering his own front door? He's going to get assassinated. His SERVANTS should have SERVANTS.
Like, yes, I understand that a lot of servants in certain places at certain times were supposed to make their labor invisible, but there have always been servants who still had to interact directly with the masters of the house?! Yeah, there are potentially really messy ethics here, class divisions are bullshit, but I don't think that completely ignoring the reality that humans have ALWAYS been doing work for other humans is better than just including some well-paid and well-treated servants and employees? Because a complete absence of them, especially where logically for the worldbuilding there MUST be servants (and probably exploited servants, or worse, for some particular worldbuilds to work), often makes me think that your main characters just don't care enough to notice the "lower class" people or know their names.
Also, even Frodo Baggins had a gardener and Samwise Gamgee might be the best damn character in the story?! Sam saved the world?! Servants are PEOPLE. Servants are often the funniest and most interesting characters, tbh, with the most to say about a society and its workings (yes, Discworld is a very good book series, highly recommend), and also the joke of some romantic scene being carefully orchestrated by a stage crew of servants frantically diving into bushes to stay out of sight never gets old to me. Teamwork makes the dream work!
I don't want to gatekeep historical fiction, especially not historical fantasy, because the worlds don't necessarily have to conform to our own and may have magic and characters are often in very unique circumstances, but... sometimes I pick up a story and it's like... "Author, please tell me that you know there is a difference between a butler and a valet?!"
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wileycap · 5 months
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Selected Excerpts From The Fire Nation Royal Palace Servants' (Unofficial) Handbook
Or: Revisions To Normal Protocol After The Ascension Of Agni's Exalted Flame, The Dragon Of The Sun, et cetera, Fire Lord Zuko
1. Agni's Exalted Flame, The Dragon Of The Sun, et cetera, Fire Lord Zuko should not be referred to by his full titles and styles, no matter the context. This appears to annoy him. "Fire Lord Zuko" and "Lord Zuko" are acceptable, as well as "your majesty" and "my Lord".
1.1 "Lord Hotman", however, is unacceptable.
1.2. Even if the Avatar specifically requests you to address Fire Lord Zuko as that.
1.3. In fact, any attempts by the Avatar, the Lady Beifong, the honorable Tribesman Sokka or even Master Katara to get you to address Fire Lord Zuko by anything other than his proper title should be disregarded.
1.4. Referring to Ozai of the Fire Nation (titles rmvd, dishon.) as "The Loser Lord", however, is acceptable.
2. Fire Lord Zuko is aware of the concept of mortality, but does not seem to understand how it relates to His Majesty. Following activities should be discouraged: Free climbing, glider usage, contact with exotic animals larger than a turtleduck (or smaller, if the animal is known to be venomous), amateur theatre productions, cooking, sailing, spelunking, botany, please see full list in the Matron's office.
2.1. It should be noted that His Majesty's belief that mortality does not apply to him does not appear to be completely unfounded. After several "close calls", it has been decided that upon his demise, Fire Lord Zuko should lie in state for at least two weeks.
2.1.1. We do not want another incident.
3. The turtleducks in the Western Pond do not need to be fed by the servants any more.
3.1. However, the turtleducks should be rotated out at regular intervals in order to prevent overfeeding.
4. At any official social functions, at least three servants should be vigilant in case His Majesty tries to tell a joke.
4.1. It should be noted that there is no concern for His Majesty's jokes being offensive, crass or otherwise contrary to good taste. They are simply very bad. His Majesty always ends up embarrassed.
5. Any children left unattended in the Royal Palace for more than 15 degrees can be retrieved from the Fire Lord's office.
6. Should His Majesty go missing, the following places should be searched: roofs and any high places, cellars and secret passages, the fur of the Avatar's sky bison (which is surprisingly deep), and every place that an ordinary five-year-old would think to hide in during a game of "Hide and Explode."
6.1. All of the Imperial Firebenders as well as any soldier who wears a mask during the course of their duties should be questioned.
6.1.1. Important note: Some of the soldiers who are especially close to His Majesty can perform a passable imitation of him. Efforts should be made to prevent an uneducated soldier from, say, conducting a meeting with the Minister of Agriculture.
6.2. After the recent incident, that list is expanded to include the Kyoshi Warriors and any other groups that might wear concealing full face paint.
6.3. If all of these measures prove ineffective, a letter should be sent to The Dragon of the West, Prince Iroh, asking His Highness to return His Majesty.
6.4. If a ransom note is delivered, it should be immediately checked against the handwriting samples from the honorable Tribesman Sokka as well as Avatar Aang, before any other actions are taken.
6.4.1. Replying "Good luck, he's your problem now" to a ransom note is absolutely unacceptable.
6.4.1.1. To further drive home the point, the Royal Archives are required by law to preserve every single piece of royal correspondence. That thing will end up in a museum.
This handbook will be updated should it prove necessary.
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scara-writes · 20 days
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paramour
Yandere!Cheating Duke X Duchess! Reader X Yandere!Lover Servant
I just want to write a reader who has the same/more power as/to the yandere(s).
The setting is still in the fantasy/manhwa world, medivial, any setting as long it's not modern.
CW: two yandere, rivals, cheating, consent smut, infidelity.
I'm making the darling a little more forward(?), daring, more power or that can go against a yandere. Atleast, that's what the darling thinks. Also, this is not polished like my other stories.[ Forgive me, I'm not good with smuts! I also love y'all comments and your ask/request(will answer them soon!). The Yandere Emperor and Yandere Crown Prince son really outnumbered the yandere Omega. Y'all are crazy for that!]
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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"Mistress." He murmured. His arms hadn't let go off your waist. It was the first thing your eyes landed on when the sunlight came in to greet a new day from the window balcony. You closed your eyes again to find your way back to sleep again.
Your hands went to trace his back full of scar last night from your nails. You hummed when he gave you a pepper kisses on your exposed skin.
"Morning." He gave you one last kiss on your lips before snuggling between your chest. His arms hadn't move around your waist since last night."Mmmh..morning..." You muttered looking away—eyes still close—from the sun when it kissed your face.
"Do you want me to call the maids to serve you breakfast?" His sweet voice lull to sleep more. You whispered no. Last night, this man gave you something akin to that of heaven, something your husband never gave you.
Last night, you made love with this man. The same man you rescued from the human trafficking, kidnapping commoner from the outskirts of the kingdom. Now, indebted by your kindness he devout himself to you with his life.
You groaned, feeling your body is aching all over. This goes not unnoticed by your lover."Did I hurt you to bad?" He asked. His earth orbs are gleaming with shine and now getting filled with tears. "I-I'm sorry, I was rough with you mistress." His voice full of regret and loathe on himself.
You opened your eyes, ruffling his curly brown hair before stroking it. Staring down at his eyes. "No. You did good." You smiled at him, cupping his face, before kissing him in the lips. He whimpered,deepening his into yours.
The intoxication of alcohol must have taken over you. Drowning yourself from alcohol after your husband didn't arrive on the scheduled date, you waited for him for a whole day to arrive. Alone in the gazebo, Everett was the one who went to your weeping figure. That was a month ago. Everett offered himself to shower you with his love. At first you feel reluctant about this, you will never be the type of person to use someone just so you can feel yourself happy. Everett didn't care about it whether you use him or not. He wanted to prove himself that you are worth to be love. This man made your heart flutter in a way that your husband once gave you before the marriage.
"I-I love what happened last night, my mistress." He whispered bashfully, his pretty swollen lower lip,you bitten hard last night, went to reach his eyes giving you a wide smile. The sun kissed his tan face adding a charming look. His neck has full of bites and bruises from you. His cheeks become a little darker shade from blushing, he must have reminisced something last night.
Now, you made him your lover. Though not completely in love with Everett. You also shower him with items or materials that most commoners would love to have but it doesn't seem like this man is materialistic. He just wants you.
You didn't hide Everett to your husband.
What's the use of hiding your fling to Theodore when he was the first one to cheat on this marriage?
Despite being loyal to that man you loved. He had the audacity to tell you that you shouldn't pry on his private his life after you confronted him with a newly hired maid going out. "Our marriage contract states that the two parties should not meddle one another's private life else this contract shall be annuled."
So all of his flexing his love for you was nothing but a hoax? A show? A lure for you to agree to marry him?
Though, your marriage with him was for the politcial marriage. You once fell in love with Theodore. The same man who gave you flowers everytime you two date, the same man who kissed in your cheeks after he walk you home, the same man who always writes poems about his devotion to you. Did he pursuade you to continue this marriage by making you love him so that the two duchy became one? It may seem like you wanted this marriage at first. You didn't, your family wanted it and they have asked you—no annoyingly, they plead you to marry him, because your parents and his parents signed a contract that their children will reunite the two duchy.
"Your ladyship, the duke asked for your audience to join him in the breakfast." Your butler from the other side of your room, outside the door, knocked and speaks after. You frown upon hearing it, looking at the closed door, what does he want?
You feel strange about your husband nowadays. He had been asking for your presence this past few days. Never once he called for you after your wedding with him.
You clicked your tongue and turn to look at your lover. You saw Everett's face was frowning too. "Fine, tell him I'll be there." You announced to the butler. You look back at the man leaning his weight on you. You tap the curly haired lover to let you go from his hold yet he didn't budge after moving yourself to sit up instead you heard yourself going 'oomfh!' and find your lips were on his again. You groaned while he moaned weakly. He pushed you down on the bed, his lips never leaving yours until you were out of breath. A string of saliva trailed between your mouths. Everett was smiling before diving his lips into your skin, to one of your chest, fondling the other. You feel a little ticklish and panting at his stimulation. "Eve—! Wait! Ah..." Your voices went unheard, The male's mewling sucking on to your flesh like thirsty man who hadn't had a drink.
Your hand went to tug his hair as you moaned out his name. "Shi—Eve... Oh! S-stop... Ah.."
His other hand goes to put one of legs above his back and parted the other leg, accessing himself between you even more."m-mistress!"
You groaned when you felt him grind between you. He looked at you with a pleading eyes, he look like he will cry again, the tears filling up yo the side from his eyes. "M-mistress." He whined his mouth was already in another mound. You feel his hardness between. "p-please? I'll be good! Please... huff..I'll make y-you feel good!"
Your eyes are hazy from the pleasure. "You want.. hah... it?" His eyes getting filled again with tears. You tug him by the hair not enough to hurt him. You landed your lips on his ears. Panting and breathless when you felt his hands is still fondling your body. "You got..ngh... to earn it, pretty boy." You murmurs made him whimpered. "You have to be my good boy... Are you my good boy?"
He nod, a tear fell down to his cheeks, he leaned down to your lips, murmuring, i-am-your-good-boys, thank-yous and I-love-yous.
The room filled with noises that could make anyone flustered and uncomfortable. You didn't realize from your high you are feeling that the butler is coughing uncomfortably behind the door excusing himself as he will inform the duke what you told him earlier.
You went down the stairs with a difficulty, aching between your thighs. You can't find any dress to cover the one hickey on your neck, Everett apologize and helped you cover it with a foundation but it failed horribly from covering seeing that the foundation wasn't blend well and you do not want your maids do it for you. Not when you found out that almost all of them had already been with your husband. You were planning to replace them sooner.
You stopped at the closed door leading to the dinning room. The butler from earlier straightened his posture, clearing his throat after he saw you. He announced your presence behind the door opening the door for you."My lord, your ladyship is here."
You walked in after thanking one of the male servant for pushing the seat for you once you sit across the lord of the household, your husband, the Duke.
The breakfast before you was served cold. If you have arrived earlier you could have eaten warm. You glance at your husband, surprised that his plate has not been finished and it looked like he didn't touched it. You noticed his eyes is trained on to you since you came in, yet his eyes isn't on you but to your neck and the way you walk earlier.
His grey eyes seemed to be narrowing, he scoffed. "You're late."
You glance away, picking one of the utensil, stabbing the meat, landing it to your mouth chewing it. You gulped it down before taking another bite. The marinated pork seems to be delicious even if the breakfast a little no warm.
"It seems you are enjoying with your toy a little too much." He added, there was anger rising beneath his voice.
Oh, the egg is a little bland but it is still edible nonetheless.
"There are more new reports about your speculated infidelity to the public. Do you know that?"
You looked at him after eating the last piece of the sunny side egg, smiling: finally acknowledging hus presence."Yeah, what about it? It's not like it will ruin our marriage. After all, you had a numerous of headlines about your 'rumored' infidelity too. Did our contractwas nulled after that? It didn't right?"
"(Y/n)."
"Yes, husband?"
His eyes widened a little before going back on giving you death gaze. "Kick that slave away. I don't like him." He demanded. Though he wasn't shouting. You frowned, how dare he?
"Why would I? It's my decision whether I choose to throw him out or not." L
"I do not want him near my property." He complained, gritting his teeth at the last word.
"This is my property as well!" You sternly answered back. Not leaving another room for an argument.
There was silence between the room.
"... I... don't want him near you." You heard him. You blinked at the sudden word that blurted in his mouth.
You scoff standing up, "I think I had my fill..." You starts walking back to where you enter the room.
"(Y/n)." Theodore called you. You didn't observe the way his eyes longed for you. You were focus on the anger within you. "Are we forgetting something, Theodore?" You questioned.
He pondered, those orb you used to love held a confusion.
"Meddling into your partner's private life will annul this marriage... Wasn't that written in our contract?" You bitterly told him. "Sounds familiar right? Do not dare demand me to throw away Everett." You added.
Finally waiting for this moment for this to happen. Guess he will get to taste his own medicine.
"... As long as we do our part in this household we will act as husband and wife. Is not that what you told me?"
"..."
"Now then, I will excuse myself. I have no longer desire to finish my breakfast here." With that, you leave him there.
When you reach the door, opening it, you were surprise to see Everett waiting outside. "What are you doing here?" You asked him. Your frowned face was replaced with a confusion look before giving him a small smile. The man infront of you return your smile with a small grin, placing one of his arm on your waist."W-well, I feel bored and alone in my own room. So I found myself waiting here w-with the butler. Besides I saw you walking wobbly earlier and I-I am concerned that you might have even more difficulty walking... So f-forgive me for not staying put." The look concern on his face adding the pout from his lips made him look cute.
"What are you a puppy?"You poke his nose giggling as you walk away with him, your eyes went back to talk to the butler. Telling him you want to continue your breakfast at your garden, asking him to make it for a two people. The butler bowing to your order before going to the kitchen area to order the maid.
Your husband on the other hand, loath with rage and jealousy mixing under his eyes. His eyes narrowed especially when the slave you brought in leaned on top of your head kissing at the crown part of your head, leaning to your ear to whisper something akin to sweet talks. The arm around your waist went rub your back.
If only you glance again on Everett's face. You would have caught him giving your husband a smug smirk.
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See when I say there's no show like BBC Merlin, it's like... it's the little things you know....
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For example, Merlin casually spilling wine (water?) on Arthur as he serves them. It's not a main focus of the scene and they don't pull any attention to it, yet it's so funny and so in character. Esp with Arthur about to say something, realising it's not worth it and just wiping his hand as Merlin continues serving, none the wiser
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torpublishinggroup · 5 months
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TOR WRAPPED 2023
Books for every Spotify Wrapped listener class! 
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VAMPIRE
Masters of Death by Olivie Blake
Starling House by Alix E. Harrow
Mordew by Alex Pheby
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HYPNOTIST
The Library of the Dead by T. L. Huchu
Daughter of Redwinter by Ed McDonald
Spring’s Arcana by Lilith Saintcrow
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ALCHEMIST
The Bone Orchard by Sara A. Mueller
The Genesis of Misery by Neon Yang
The Echo Wife by Sarah Gailey
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SHAPESHIFTER
Thornhedge by T. Kingfisher
The Warden by Daniel M. Ford
Wolfsong by TJ Klune
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FANATIC
Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson
Bookshops & Bonedust by Travis Baldree
The Fragile Threads of Power by V. E. Schwab
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TIME TRAVELER
Kinning by Nisi Shawl
She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan
The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V. E. Schwab
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MASTERMIND
The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake
Red Team Blues by Cory Doctorow
Exadelic by Jon Evans
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COLLECTOR
The Wolfe at the Door by Gene Wolfe
Cassiel’s Servant by Jacqueline Carey
The Great Hunt by Robert Jordan
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nibbelraz · 3 months
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before lbh came back to the human realm he asked mobei why he kept the most pathetic sopping wet peak lord about. mbj casually "oh sometimes i ask him things and it literally changes reality." what. mobei what. no seriously what the fuck do you mean. what do you mean he changes reality. what are you talking about. are you serious. are you fucking with him rn fr "he cant change people though" WHY WOULD YOU GET HIS HOPES UP THEN "i believe qinghua calls it a 'power move'."
THE WAY I CAN SEE MOBEI JUST CASUALLY SAYING HE LIKES HAVING A GOD AT HIS SIDE
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stigmatam4rtyr · 7 months
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Saint Sebastian Tended by the Holy Irene and her Servant [detail] (1626-1630) | Nicolas Regnier
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queenklu · 3 months
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Reading Frankenstein and we got to the part where "the creature" is created - always a good time bc Victor's immediate response to seeing his work come to fruition is "Oh. ..............Gross." and then he takes a nap.
Then of course when the creature wakes him up he flips out and runs away, which my students were Not Pleased With. (Because of Walton's desperate desire for a friend at the beginning of the book, many students have spent the first few chapters under the misapprehension that Victor is making himself a friend, quote, "Build-a-Bear Style" and finding out how badly he's quote, "mistreating his baby boy" is very upsetting for them).
So then in a fugue state "Vicky Frank" (another nickname from my students) just HAPPENS UPON his BFF Clerval, who is so very happy to see him, and Victor switches instantly into host mode:
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Student1: YEAH MAN, I DON'T KNOW WHY HE WOULDN'T BE WHERE YOU LEFT HIM, HE IS A LITERAL 8 FOOT TALL CHILD
Student2: He didn't even babyproof his HOUSE! D:
But the part I wanted to talk about is actually this moment that I'd never noticed before, after VFrank gets Clerval inside his (miraculously) monster-free house, IS THIS:
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I'M SORRY??????
HEY VICTOR??????
THE WHAT???????
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ghostbsuter · 7 months
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"Hey constantine, who's that?" Someone asks and Connie looks down at Danny, blue eyes staring back at him.
"My coworker."
"He's my dad."
"What?"
"What."
Who knew John Constantine would gain a ward, one being such a little mischievous bastard with bright eyes and good heart.
He certainly didn't.
Nor did he expect the stabby Robin to get into a heated argument with his ward, gesturing to his form next to Batman and spit venom.
"But‐ Damian! Look at him! I can fix him!" Danny argues back and Robin, so done with this, rips his mask off and—
Oh.
They have the same face.
Connie looks at Batman, nervous what the reveal will change.
("I don't care if you can 'fix' him, danyal! Return to Father, to me!")
Batman stares back.
("Connie is dad shaped! I chose him myself, damian! Leave me and my choice alone!")
The day will only get longer, it seems.
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iliveunderarock1 · 2 months
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what's up mount rageous?! my old blog got terminated for no reason so i have to re establish myself incase i can't recover that blog. i drew these and many more
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bunny-yan · 6 months
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can you write more about the yandere king pls
TW:non-con touching, imbalanced power dynamics, implied violence, mentions nudity, minors DNI
“Yes, your highness.”
He couldn’t resist the smile that tugged at the edges of his lips. 
An order given, command received, and your response?
“Yes, your highness.”
Sweet, sweet words that dripped like honey in his ears.
It didn’t matter that he’d heard those words from the day the goddess decided to bless his life givers with their only son. His birthright. Servants, nobles, and foreign royalty alike uttered the same words, but when they came from your lips they sounded like poetry. Obedience from lips that were his, head bowed, your subservience an oath. Your words, your vow. 
The order wasn’t important. 
He could tell you to crawl around on the floor, on your hands and knees and you would stay there until he was bored. He’d told you to remove that pesky clothing and although your hands were hesitant, your demeanor reluctant, you obeyed. 
“Yes, your highness.” would come your quiet reply. Movements methodical, clothes slowly fell into a heap around your feet until there was nothing left to remove.
He never did understand why you bothered to hide your nakedness. It was hard to believe that you were still shy knowing he’d already seen everything. Already experienced the taste of your skin, ingrained your smell into his memory. Maybe you didn’t like the way his eyes stared as if he was gazing into your very soul. Maybe you felt vulnerable, exposed and cold. Maybe you simply liked having him order you around, liked whispering the same words that had him crossing his legs and resting his head in his head. From his seat he observed you, lounging as if arrogance was his second skin. 
You wished he would get it over with. It was a usual undeserved punishment. You no longer bothered to guess what mistake landed you in this position, but that didn’t stop you from wondering if it was because you had taken too long to retrieve the pen from his study, lingering away from his presence longer than you should have, or if it was because you’d brushed across that nobleman the two of you passed when the two of you went on your daily walk. There were no obvious signs of his anger or irritation, so he could be doing this simply for his own amusement. It didn’t matter because the result would always be the same. This agonizing slow torture, meant to degrade you, to put you in your place, to show you just how little control you had in your own life. Sometimes it felt more painful than the bruises he would leave. 
The silence only made it more unbearable. 
You felt his eyes sweeping over your body, taking his time as they dissected you. 
Could he see the way you would tense, trying to remain as still as possible so his eyes wouldn’t be tempted to stare longer? Did he notice the goosebumps that spread like a plague lasting as long as you resisted the urge to shudder from the chill that gripped your spine?
Your back was locked straight, hands resisting the urge to clench into fists as they rested flat on your thighs, feet together. You didn’t hunch over, though it was hard to avoid when you were neglected the basic protection you could offer yourself. You stood straight, not giving him a chance to elicit that disgusting response. 
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The words were empty, coming from a doll rather than a person. 
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Reminding you time and time again of the words you couldn’t say. The orders you weren’t allowed to disobey. You never knew how much embarrassment, how much fear, how much resentment could build from three simple words. 
Your gaze snapped to his feet when he uncrossed his legs, body tensing before you could think of what he’d do. Of what he’d subject you to this time, but you felt an undeniable disgust at the fear he invoked in you and at the sight of one leg lifting over the other as he settled back into that comfortable position and continued to watch you without a word. You were thankful that your head was bowed, because you were unsure you would be able to properly maintain a plain expression. 
“Turn around.” he called, speaking as an intrigued spectator. 
The display obeyed. 
You couldn’t make it too quick or else he would make you do it over again. Goddess forbid you insinuate you want to get it over with. You would be standing in the same spot until your knees were ready to give out and even then, he would only be oh, so helpful to assist. If that meant you had to stand directly in front of him with your hands braced against the arms of his chair, feeling every breath he took, you would remain there until he was finished. 
You took small, shuffling steps, feelings of awkwardness and foolishness remaining as a tiny spark despite the many incidents you underwent to grow use to this treatment. You didn’t stumble as your feet tangled in the clothes beneath your feet, grateful to save yourself the embarrassment as you completed the rotation he asked for. You didn’t have a chance to settle before he was giving you another order. A gross hope that he was ready to end this filled you as quiet steps led you directly in front of him. 
You couldn’t avoid his eyes when you were so close. It’d always bothered you how collected he remained despite his callous treatment. 
Holding up a hand, he expended no effort as he said, “My glove.” 
You nodded, continuing to avoid the gaze drilling holes into your eyes. One hand landed on his wrist, his gaze broiling with something you tried to ignore as your other hand plucked at the cloth on each finger before slipping the accessory off of his hand. 
There was no acknowledgement other than the bare hand that rested itself on your hip. You gripped the glove in your hand, tensing before you could force yourself to remain relaxed. He didn’t notice or he didn’t care as his thumb kneaded into your hip.
“You’ve lost weight.” he commented, grateful that he didn’t look to you for a reply. It was difficult enough to mindlessly follow orders, having to think of a way to soften an explanation for your tormentor was hell. 
What would you say? Because of course it wasn’t his fault. He only wanted what was best for you, especially if that meant you would need to be disciplined. If you were locked in a room without food or water for a couple of days for shying away from his touch, it was your own fault. If your punishment continued because you didn’t beg and plead for forgiveness, content to endure instead of giving him the willing affection he so desperately craved, it was your own fault. What he asked for was not difficult to achieve. It was painfully simple. 
Do what he said, when he said it without any indication of rebellion and you would be fine. But those pesky little habits of avoiding his eyes and leaning away, that annoying flinching that you still had yet to shake only made him give more difficult orders. His demands growing with his frustration. 
His hand slid up the side of your body until it rested at the top of your ribs, sliding across your body and tracing patterns in the dips and curves he found.  
He couldn’t deny that a part of him that enjoyed the side of you that tried to resist him. 
It was a waste of time, but the lack of understanding you had created an unpredictability in your behavior that was enticing. 
How you would gamble and how he would punish you. It was a cycle he couldn’t get tired of. 
“Are you cold?” he asked, a small smile dancing across his lips.
It was a question with no right answer. 
“Yes, your highness.” His smile only grew. 
Drawing his hand away, he spread his arms, beckoning you to come closer. 
Again, you hesitated, aggravating his displeasure. He held back the urge to snatch you closer, needing to control himself if you were going to fully face your punishment. 
He was patient, noting the way you took your time, avoiding his touch until the very last moment until you were unsettled in his lap. 
Arm wrapping around your waist he gave you no time to prepare as a hand slid between your legs. You let out a gasp, your body instinctively jerking away, but he held you tighter, ordering you to be still. You turned your head, pushing your face past his shoulder so he wouldn’t see your flushed face. 
You tried to think about something else, anything else so you could get your mind off of his demanding fingers, and strangely enough an old memory surfaced, one you’d long since forgotten in your time of servicing your prince, now king. 
You’d rarely enter the King’s study. Not only were you responsible for his son, the prince who resided in the Eastern domain, you being the lowly servant that you were had no business being anywhere near the King’s palace. But today was different. You had documents that your father needed for his duties and as the King’s butler, the first place you went to look was where the King would naturally be. 
You were anxious at the thought that you had to appear if only a moment before the King, only growing more so at the lack of guards in front of the King’s door. With no one to announce your presence, you debated whether you should knock and after hearing muffled voices and noticing a crack in the door, curiosity and the lack of watchful eyes led you to peek in. 
A sense of pride overwhelmed you at the sight of your father serving the King. You’d always wanted to be like him when you were younger. But it froze, heavy in your gut when you watched your father bend to pour tea into his majesty’s cup. You thought nothing of the hand that came up, the same hand that brushed across your father’s cheek. 
You questioned what you’d seen. Maybe it was a mistake, but it was soft, gentle even and regardless of the excuses you came up with in your mind it didn’t sit right with you. You stared at your father’s undisturbed face, stolid as the King spoke words too soft for you to hear,but your father’s response melted the anxiety you felt into undeniable dread. 
“Yes, my King.”
You couldn’t remember if you’d given him the documents you needed. You don’t remember anything apart from leaving, nothing the prince doing or saying that day able to shake you out of your stupor. 
Despite the resentment you felt for your king, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was the goddesses blessing in disguise. 
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ministarfruit · 2 months
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day 20: chose violence ♡
(femslashfeb prompt list)
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itsmeimcathy · 1 year
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Rare footage of dracula trying to make his good friend jonathan's stay at the castle as normal as possible:
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lwiann · 5 months
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fall from grace
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nibbelraz · 3 months
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binghe fights sqh and he gives no indication at being powerful or with martial ability. he realises his mistake in approach. sqh makes himself small, pathetic, and easy to bully so that he is underestimated and ignored. fighting a PERSON will only increase that. well thats fine. mobei he's gonna toss ur human into a deathmatch against beasts rq ok? u wanna watch? if he gets too out of his depth you can step in he wont stop you but he knows you ALSO want to know what that little THANG is capeable of. nature doc mobei and binghe watching sqh in some demon forest. the wild qinghua, pressured out of its natural habitat. without greater predators to form symbiotic relationships with he must fend for himself. there comes the sunburst scorpion tailed bear goat- we shall soon see how the qinghua- OH HOLY SHIT HE RIPPED ITS HEAD OFF MOBEI YOUR SCRUNKLY RIPPED ITS GODDAMN HEAD OFF
THEYRE TAKING HIM OUT OF HIS NATURAL HABITAT AND SPYING ON HIM OH this is good
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He didn't know he was capable of it either
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