Top Posts Tagged with #from being nice to him meaning you are ‘acting like a servant’ | Tumlook (2025)

i love your writing style smmm so could i request headcanons for ace (or any other charas if youd like ^^) reacting to a fem reader who usually wears really baggy outfits to hide the fact that theyre a girl and just generally doesnt really care too much if she looks presentable, suddenly getting dragged away and all dolled up because vil or someone sees their potential or just hates seeing them all disheveled. Would be really funny to see reader wearing clothes that shouldnt suit their usual messy but wearing clothes catered to their right gender just somehow compliments them in every way (maybe a little like haruhi from ouran lol)

Ace, Deuce reacting to a Glow Up

a/n: added deuce cause i can't separate adeuce, sorry for the long wait, i hope you like it <3

Ace Trappola

Ace isn’t the type to pay attention to small details, but when he sees you walking into the cafeteria all dolled up, he practically chokes on his drink. He does an actual spit-take, earning glares from everyone around him.

“Wait, what the—THAT’S the prefect?! No way! Did Vil brainwash you or something?”

True to form, Ace masks his flustered reaction with relentless teasing.

“Whoa, are you trying to get someone’s attention or what? Who’s the lucky guy, huh?”

But deep down, his brain is screaming, Oh no. They’re way too cute. Abort mission.

He cannot stop staring. He thinks he’s being subtle, but he’s absolutely not. Every time you look up, you catch him gawking at you from across the room. When you call him out on it, he quickly looks away and mutters, “W-What? No, I wasn’t staring. You’re imagining things.”

Ace keeps slipping up and saying things he doesn’t mean to out loud.

“I mean, you look… uh, decent, I guess.”

Five minutes later: “Okay, fine, you look great, but don’t let it go to your head!”

If anyone else compliments you, Ace suddenly gets super competitive.

“Oh, sure, they look good, but it’s not like that big of a deal. I mean, I’ve seen them in worse.”

He’s secretly seething every time someone even glances your way, but he plays it off with his usual cocky attitude.

He also starts overcompensating. Ace starts trying to act cooler around you to match your new look, which inevitably backfires. He’ll lean casually against a wall, trip over his own feet, and then pretend it didn’t happen.

“Yeah, uh… totally meant to do that. Just testing the floor’s stability.”

Despite all the teasing, Ace can’t help but soften a bit. He starts doing little things, like carrying your books or offering to help you with classwork (even though he’s probably worse at it than you are).

“What? I’m just being nice. Don’t read into it, okay?”

If you thank him or genuinely compliment him in return, Ace loses all composure.

“Y-Yeah, well, don’t get used to it! I’m not your servant or anything!”

Later, when he’s with Deuce and Grim, he won’t stop bringing up how “weird” it is to see you like this.

“It’s not that I care or anything, but like… did you see them? Who knew they could clean up like that? Crazy, right?”

Deuce, who has caught on, just side-eyes him. “Dude, you’re obsessed.”

One day, while you’re back in your baggy clothes, Ace blurts out:

“You know, you looked good all dressed up, but you’re fine like this too… Not like I care or anything!”

His face turns bright red, and he immediately backtracks, leaving you laughing at his expense.

In the Long Term:

He continues teasing you, but it’s lighter and less frequent, like he’s trying to cover up how much he actually liked seeing this new side of you.

Eventually, Ace becomes oddly protective of you when Vil tries to drag you off for another makeover. “Hey, leave them alone! They’re fine the way they are!”

He’ll never outright admit it, but your glow-up has him reevaluating his feelings—and now he’s in even deeper than before.

Deuce Spade

Deuce sees you walk into the cafeteria, and his entire brain just shuts down. He stops mid-bite of his lunch, fork suspended in the air, staring at you like he’s just seen a ghost.

“...Is that… the prefect?” he whispers, nearly dropping his plate.

Deuce attempts to act normal, but he’s about as subtle as a brick through a window.

“Oh, hey! You, uh, look different. I mean, not in a bad way! Like, uh, good different! Wait, not that you didn’t look good before! I mean—uh…”

Cue him tripping over his own feet while trying to keep up with you.

He genuinely believes Vil might’ve forced you into this makeover.

“Are you okay? Did Vil threaten you or something? Blink twice if you need help!”

When you laugh and explain it was more or less voluntary, Deuce blushes furiously and mutters, “Oh. Well, um… you look really nice.”

When other students start complimenting you, Deuce doesn’t know how to feel. On one hand, he’s proud that everyone is noticing how amazing you are. On the other, he’s irrationally annoyed by how much attention you’re getting.

“Yeah, yeah, they look great, okay? You don’t have to keep saying it!”

If anyone gets too bold with their compliments or tries to flirt with you, Deuce is immediately stepping in.

“Hey, back off! They don’t need your input!”

You have to gently remind him that people are just being nice.

No matter how hard he tries, Deuce keeps sneaking glances at you. When you catch him, he looks away so fast he almost gives himself whiplash.

“I wasn’t staring! I just… thought I saw something behind you!”

Deuce isn’t the smoothest when it comes to expressing his feelings, but he tries his best.

“You… you look amazing. Not that you didn’t before! But, uh, this is, like… wow. I’m gonna stop talking now.”

While Ace might tease you about your glow-up, Deuce’s first thought is whether or not you’re okay with all the attention.

"If you’re feeling uncomfortable or anything, just let me know, okay? I’ll tell everyone to back off.”

Deuce starts doing little things to make you smile, like grabbing extra napkins for you at lunch or awkwardly trying to help carry your things. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it half the time.

Later that night, Deuce vents to Epel, pacing around the room.

“I mean, they’ve always been great, but now they look so… I don’t know! It’s distracting! What am I supposed to do, Epel?!”

Epel, munching on snacks, just rolls his eyes. “Wow, you’re hopeless.”

One day, when you’re back to your usual baggy clothes, Deuce finally works up the courage to say something genuine.

“You know, I thought you looked amazing all dressed up, but honestly? You don’t need all that. You’re already perfect the way you are.”

He says it so earnestly that you can’t help but smile, and his face immediately turns bright red. “I-I mean, uh, not perfect! I just—uh, never mind!”

In the Long Term:

Deuce continues to be your biggest supporter, quietly cheering you on from the sidelines while trying not to make his feelings too obvious.

He’s protective in the sweetest way, always ready to step in if Vil pushes you too hard or if anyone makes you uncomfortable.

Every once in a while, he’ll bring up how great you looked during your glow-up, but it’s always with a shy smile and a soft tone. It’s clear he liked it, but he also thinks you’re amazing just as you are.

Over time, Deuce starts to realize just how much he cares for you, and your glow-up only solidified what he was already feeling.

Masterlist

i didn't focus on the gender much but if that part is important let me know

req: Hi I really liked your fic with Athena and I would like the same fic with Hades if you don't mind. Thanks in advance!

yandere PJO! Hades x demigod! darling 💀🐺👑 - general hcs

I would like to start off by establishing that I truly and firmly believe that Hades would NEVER hurt you or torture you like some of the other gods and goddesses *agressive coughing* Athena, Ares and Hera *more aggresive coughing*

Well and truly he is too in love with you to even THINK about that

I mean have you seen how he reacted to Persephone hating him at the start of their relationship???

Anyways, I believe that the way you would meet is if you were a mother figure to Nico

Nico was immediately drawn to you, an older camper who had stayed back to help Chiron as a counsellor

You weren't afraid of him like most other councellors, rather, like Percy and Annabeth, you saw him as more of what he was; a child who just needed love and affection, a neglected and abandoned child who had to grow up too soon

He's rightfully suspicious and offstanding to you at first but if you act the correct way around him, he definitely takes to you

He starts opening up to you about different things, how he felt about his sister's death, how he felt about Jason's death and how he was struggling to see the point in anything

Comforting him at any time late in the night because he's anxious and depressed and being the one to introduce him to Will also helps :)

I think after he starts dating Will is when he takes you to introduce you to his dad because he finally feels like he has a mother

And that is when you, unfortunately, catch the attention of the Lord of the Dead himself

It's very very hard to gain Nico's trust, considering what he's been through, Hades knew you must have a heart of gold or atleast cared about Nico to have one around him

He finds you intriguing, the way you stand tall to him and only give him a stiff bow, how you roam about and talk to his ghoul servants with ease and of course, how well you're able to take care of and calm down Nico

So his inner stalker starts acting up and he starts sending his servants to spy on you, following you around in the darkness, watching you in the shadows, showing up in your dreams, resulting in them melting into nightmares

Waking up trembling and sweating because of the horrifying creatures and distant memories tormenting you :(

Hades hates tormenting (traumatizing) you but he can't really help it since he needs to know your routine to kidnap you

Actually, I don't know why I censored that, he does kidnap you

He basically sets his furies on your ass which sucks for you but he had no choice

Like imagine just having a quiet, comfortable time in your cabin, all alone with just a nice book and your favourite drink

And then screeching she-demons descend on you and literally drag you all the way to the underworld

Of course, you were having absolutely NONE of that, kicking and screaming

But he gets you eventually

As soon as they deposited you in your bedroom, the man himself comes to see you

Hades confesses to you immediately and tells you he loves you

You immediately remember the story of Persephone and shove him away in horror

From then on, it's just a never ending cycle of him trying to win you over with his wealth and confessions of undying love

Visiting your bedroom everyday with flowers from Persephone's garden

They're beautiful of course but that doesn't mean you'll forgive him

Chucking things from your incredibly expensive bedroom at him while he just stands there and stares at you sadly before leaving

Yelling at him and begging for him to take you back home but he just shakes his head no and apologizes to you over and over

This could go either of two ways, depending on the kind of person you are

1. You keep fighting against him until you finally give in, accepting your situation and deciding to make the most of it

2. You accept his love, thinking that it's better to have undying love than mortal love

He'll be delighted when you finally storm out of your room and go to his throne room, calmly informing him that you accept his proposal

He ADORES you

He's very clingy and he wants you in the throne room with him at all times

He's the kind of person to stare at you for hours and get completely distracted from his job

Like most of the times, you're gonna have to be the one to interview the souls who come to meet him because he's too busy gazing at you

He loves being romantic and will wake you up every day with flowers

He isn't very touchy-feely, he's more of a gift giver kind of person

I mean, he's the god of wealth for god's sake

He will literally get you ANYTHING you want

Even if it's sold out EVERYWHERE, he will personally commission Hephaestus to make it for you

Literally dream of anything, anything that you could possibly want and boom, the next morning, you wake up with it on your bedside table

All he wants in return is a little kiss every day and you telling him you love him

He's one of the gods who will let you roam the above world

He knows that he treats you so well, you'll come back to him anyways

He loves taking you on romantic dates to literally any place you want

Renting out the Eiffel tower just for the two of you is quite the common occurrence, it's his favourite place for a date <3

Complete gentleman, notices everything about you and will literally just chuck money at people, gods, ghosts and monsters alike to make whatever you want happen

Even the slightest show of affection from you is enough to make this poor god pass OUT

Like imagine picking a pretty flower from the above world for him and presenting it to him in the throne room??

He almost fainted of happiness and immediately ordered it to be planted in the royal garden so he could go and gaze at it for eternity

He's in the seventh heaven when you tell him you love him

For everyone wondering what's going on on the Persephone aspect of things, I think she'd be pretty damn pissed at first

Not only because he kidnapped ANOTHER girl

But also because that's her husband??

But unlike Minthe, he actually defends you and refuses to let her hurt you or turn you into a plant and crush you

Eventually, depending on your behaviour and attitude towards her, Persephone will either hate you but not do anything about it, learn to tolerate you OR she'll love you <3

Maybe a little too much....

I mean, you caught her husband's eye....so surely there's something about you that intrigues her too....

But that's a good thing!.....right?

Good luck to you if she ends up turning yandere for you because she is definitely not as soft-hearted and non-violent as Hades

Either way, living in the underworld turns out not to be so bad, especially when you can wander around in your choice of clothes all day, throw money around on things you want, living in a gigantic palace decorated to your design and basically do whatever you like in return for loving an actually really sweet god

Y'know, even if it IS completely filled with spirits and zombies

But that's just minor details in exchange for literally anything in the world....right?

Also, Cerberus ADORES you

Even if you have dog allergies, since he isn't technically a real dog, his 'fur' doesn't affect you

Will follow you around everywhere, begging for pets with all 6 of those cute puppy eyes

Also loves playing fetch :3

Once Nico found out that his father kidnapped you, his reaction was something along the lines of silent, shocked staring

"Nico...I can expla-"

"What. The. Fu-"

He gets used to it pretty fast, he's used to his father's weird, obsessive antics by now

And besides, it just means he gets to spend more time with you <3

I have this irrelevant hc that he likes dragging you with him to his father's throne room and giving him a forceful makeover, just to embarrass him

Hades puts up with it, mostly because he's a softie

In terms of punishments and such, the only time he'd really get pissed is if you tried cheating on him

Like he is so whipped for you that he is willing to let anything slide...except for disloyalty

Even then, the most he'll do is isolate you

He really can't keep himself away from you either

Mostly, he'll just send his minions to guard you a lot more

Which is just more inconvenient and annoying than anything mentally damaging

Overall, he's one of the tamest yanderes in terms of Greek gods

He really doesn't want to hurt you, he just wants you to stay with him forever

He's just clingy :)

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU (SERIES 2)

(Obviously this excludes "The Curse of Cornelius Sigan" that was already done HERE)

FIRST PART (SERIES 1) >> NEXT PART

In "The Once and Future Queen"

In Arthur's chambers.

Merlin: (enters, very enthusiastically, carrying Arthur's breakfast) Raise and shine! 😊

Arthur: (already awake, definitely not waiting for Merlin to arrive) You're late. You literally sleep next door. How can you still be late?

Merlin: Oh, don't act like you don't appreciate the extra hours of sleep. (puts the breakfast on the table) Your breakfast.

Arthur: (surprised) Wow, that's... a very generous breakfast.

Merlin: Only the best for the best.😊

Arthur: ... Right. (gets off the bed and sits to eat his breakfast) Have breakfast with me. You must be hungry.

Merlin: There's no need. I have mine here (takes a bread out of his pocket) That breakfast is all for you, my lord. I made sure to have your favourites, ham, cheese, even sausages-

Arthur: Did I do something?

Merlin: What? 😧

Arthur: You only ever being this good when you are mad at me.

Merlin: I'm not mad. If I was I would've woke you up very early in the morning.

Arthur: Then what is it?

Merlin: Nothing! Can't I just want to be a good servant once in a while?

Arthur: (looks at him suspiciosly) Eat with me then.

Merlin: That's very nice of you my lord, but I'm a servant. I wouldn't dare to eat at the same place of a royal.

Arthur: (panics)

Merlin: (laughs) I'm kidding! (sits infront of Arthur, takes a ham and puts it in his bread) See? I'm not mad. (takes a bite)

Arthur: (sighs in relief) Alright. (starts eating)

Merlin: (serves himself a vase of water) Oh, you know the jousting tournament is coming, right?

Arthur: I'm aware Merlin. I'm participating in it.

Merlin: Yeah, Gwen and Lancelot always go to watch you... uhmm... joust and stuff. (drinks all his water in one go and serves himself more) Lancelot especially enjoys watching you.

Arthur: Uhum. (keeps eating)

Merlin: And Gwen was wondering, just out of curiosity, of course, if you had the means to maybe... let him participate in this one?

Arthur: (puts down his food abruptly) I knew it!

Merlin: Arthur, please! 🥺 It would mean a lot to Lancelot to be able to join this tournament.

Arthur: Don't give me those eyes! 😠 You know I would let him join if I could. But I can't change the Knight's code and Lancelot is not a noble so he can't participate.

Merlin: (tentatively) But what if we could, hypothetically speaking, pass him as a nobel?

Arthur: That's identity fraud! (Thinking) What am I even surprised? He did this for me before and I bet he was the one who made Lancelot's fake seal in my timeline too.

Merlin: It would be just for this tournament, no one will find out. Please 🥺.

Arthur: No, Merlin. I'm already giving him a knight training behind my father's back. And You know we are walking on very thin ice with him. So I won't risk it.

Merlin: (thinking) Oh, but when it was about defending your pride You had no problem with it 😑... Wait, that's it! (Says) I understand. It's a shame. I was looking forward to watch Lancelot beat you.

Arthur: (offended) You think Lancelot could beat me?

Merlin: I mean, he's been doing great progress.

Arthur: That doesn't mean he can beat me. I'm still his teacher.

Merlin: You heard that old saying "Student becomes the master"?

Arthur: Lancelot wouldn't stand a chance against me!

Merlin: Well, I guess now we'll never know. (drinks his water in one go again and stands up) Enjoy the rest of your breakfast, I have chores to do. (starts leaving)

Arthur: What do mean? You still have to dress me. Merlin!

Merlin: (already gone)

Arthur: (sighs and looks Merlin's bread on the table) That idiot, he didn't even finish his breakfast. (keeps eating, then mumbles, annoyed) Lancelot beating me. As if!

Time skip. Merlin going to the laundry with Gwen.

Merlin: I can't believe you talked me into this.

Gwen: So he said yes?

Merlin: Not yet, but he's about to. In three... two... one.

Arthur: (calling from afar) MERLIN!

Merlin: (smiling) Start preparing Lancelot's armor. (leaves)

Time skip. Arthur, Merlin, Gwen and Lancelot in Gwen's house.

Lancelot: You are doing WHAT?! 😨

Arthur: (confused) Pass you as a nobel for the tournament. Didn't you ask Merlin to convince me of letting you join?

Lancelot: NO! I would never abuse of Merlin's influence like that, my lord.

Arthur: Influence?

Gwen: It was me who asked, love. (stroke Lancelot's arm) You always have this yearning in your eyes every time we go to a tournament. I wanted you to experience it at least once.

Lancelot: (holds her hands lovinly) Guinevere, you know I love you and that you managed to organize all this just to make me happy makes me love you even more, but I can't let you do this. You could get in serious trouble. (points at Merlin and Arthur) All of you could get in serious trouble. Everyone knows me here. There's no way I could pass as a nobel.

Merlin: You have nothing to worry about. Everything is perfectly planned. Arthur payed a farmer to pose as Sir William of Deira when you are not jousting. And since he is from one of the outlying villages, no one will recognise him.

Arthur: Gwen has the armor and weapons, I the resources. The only thing you'll have to worry about is to not take your helmet off.

Lancelot: I'm surprised you agreed to this, Sire.

Arthur: Well, if I didn't I was risking Merlin and Gwen passing you as a nobel either way. Besides, I figured if I really wanted you to be my knight one day, you'll need to have all the experience you could get.

Gwen: And he wanted to prove Merlin he could beat you.

Lancelot: Oh, that makes more sense. (sighs, but then smiles) Alright, I'm in. (holds Gwen's hands again) Will you cheer for me?

Gwen: You don't even have to ask (kisses his cheek)

Arthur: (turns to Merlin) Will you cheer for me?

Merlin: (snorts) Are you kidding? I can't wait for Lancelot to beat your ass. (suddenly makes a gesture of pain)

Arthur: (worried) Are you okay?

Merlin: (with labored breathing) I'm fine. I just... forgot the carpenter works nearby.

Gwen: I'll get you some water! (leaves quickly)

Arthur: (guides Merlin to a chair) Lancelot, stay with Merlin. I'll talk to the carpenter.

Merlin: (grabs Arthur's wrist) No... Arthur... Let him be. He's just... doing his job. I'm... the one who... has to get... used to this. (takes deeps breaths) Just... hold me... please.

Arthur: (bends and holds Merlin) That's it. In and out, in and out.

Merlin: (his breathing evens and calms)

Lancelot: (in relief) You're getting better at it.

Gwen: (comes back with a vase of water) Here. Take this.

Merlin: (drinks it all in one go)

Gwen: Not so fast! You could choke!

Arthur: Don't worry he always drinks... water like this. (realises, thinking with growing concern) Now that I think about it, he's been drinking a lot of water lately... and eating less.

Merlin: (smiles at Arthur) I'm better now. You can let go.

Arthur: (Doesn't let go, frowning, still lost in thought)

Merlin: Arthur?

Arthur: (snaps out of it, looks at Merlin and gives him a soft smile though it's a bit wavery) Can you stand up? (Helps Merlin stand up still holding him)

Merlin: (giggles) Seriously, I'm fine.

Arthur: (finally lets go) Good. Because we have a lot of work to do.

Time skip. At night in Merlin's chambers. Merlin wakes up, there's no noise, but he has the feeling an intruder has entered, he just knows he's not alone. He gets up slowly and walks around the room alert, ready to use his magic.

Merlin: (whispers) I know you are there. I'm not scared of you.

Myror: (comes out of a shadow, dagger in hand) So the prince's little boy toy has guts. Or should I say "Unicorn Catcher"? You've built quite a reputation.

Merlin: Such as you, "The most feared assasin in all the known lands". Uther doubled the security, which means you had help to enter. Though why are you here in my room completely baffles me.

Myror: (presses Merlin against a wall abruptly and puts the dagger at his throat) Don't play dumb with me, boy! I know from a good source that your chambers conects to the prince's.

Merlin: Oh, so you do have an informant, great.

Myror: (perplexed at Merlin's calmness and then smirks a little) I must say I'm impressed. People usually start screaming by now.

Merlin: So Arthur comes to my aid and you can kill him? (whispers even more quitely) Not a chance.

Myror: (presses the dagger more against Merlin's throat and it starts bleeding) I can make you scream in other ways (threatenly) Where. Is. The. Door?

Merlin: (who definitely hided and blocked the door with his magic) I. Won't. Tell. You.

Myror: I don't need you to scream (Shouts) PRINCE AR-

Merlin: Atæse!

Myror's dagger flies and cuts his throat, effectively killing him.

Merlin: (just looks down Myror's body until it stays still) I can't believe even the assassins know that stupid nickname. (puts his fingers on the wound on his throat and sighs) This is going to leave a scar.

Time skip. In the throne room. Uther sitting on the throne with Morgana at his side and Arthur with Merlin at his side standing infront of them.

Arthur: (very surprised) He's... dead?

Morgana: (smiles, relieved) It was a very close call. I'm glad nothing happened to you.

Uther: At first we thought he died because he fell while trying to climb the tower to your chambers, but the cut in his throat indicates the cause of death was another.

Arthur: So he was killed.

Morgana: What a fitting fate for an assassin.

Merlin: (about to laugh, but keeps it together)

Uther: Still. Odin must be made to pay for his actions. We must strike back at him.

Arthur: Surely you understand the grief he feels for the loss of his son. We should try to make peace with him. There's been enough bloodshed. (thinking) And is not the bloodshed I'm looking forward to.

Uther: Perhaps you're right. (sighs) If you don't mind, I'd like speak with you. (looks at Morgana and the Merlin) Alone.

Merlin: (hangs his head) Of course, Sire (bows and leaves)

Morgana: (stands up and bows) My lord (leaves)

Uther: Why didn't you inform me? Or call the guards?

Arthur: (confused) What?

Uther: You are not invencible, Arthur. No matter how skilled you think you are, that was a trained assassin. You could have died!

Arthur: ... You think I killed Myror?

Uther: He was found at the foot of your tower! And which are the only windows he could have been thrown from?

Arthur: Mine and... (realises, thinking) Merlin's! (says) You're right, it was very careless of me. It wasn't my chambers he entered though.

Uther: (realises) Oh... It makes sense. Your chambers were too secured to enter directly.

Arthur: And Merlin's weren't. You know why? Because you refused to give him any guards!

Uther: We talked about this. I won't waste my guards on a servant.

Arthur: He is not any servant, he is The Prince's manservant. It's obvious Myror tried to get to me through Merlin. And he won't be the last who tries.

Uther: And whose fault is that? It's not me who made his affections towards his servant very open!

Arthur: ...

Uther: (sighs) You are dismissed.

Time skip. The tournament. In Lancelot's tent.

Gwen: (gives Lancelot her favor, blushing) I thought you might... wear it for luck.

Lancelot: (smiles and takes it, blushing a little too) My lady-

Gwen: Still not a lady.

Lancelot: My Gwen. I'll wear it with honor. (kisses her)

Gwen: (kisses back)

Sir William/Farmer: (just entered) Uhm...

Merlin: (just entered too, coughs loudly)

Gwen and Lancelot: (pull away from each other, very embarrased)

Sir William/Farmer: They're nearly ready for you.

Lancelot: I'm almost ready (turns to Gwen) Would you...? (gestures the favor and his arm)

Gwen: Oh, right. (ties the favor in his arm with a smile)

Merlin: (mockingly) This was your plan all along wasn't it, Gwen? To fulfill your fantasy of having a knight in shining armor fighting for you.

Gwen: Shouldn't you be attending YOUR knight in shining armor, Merlin?

Merlin: You mean a prat in shining armor that I cleaned. I already put his armor on, I just came to wish Lancelot luck too. (to Lancelot) Not in the same way, of course.

Lancelot: Thank you, Merlin.

Gwen: I'm surprised you still have your neckerchief on.

Merlin: (blushes) He didn't manage to steal it this time.

Gwen: Why not give it to him for a change?

Merlin: ...what?

Lancelot: Remember what I told you in the woods? About making a move?

Gwen: And it's perfect! If he reacts badly you can disguise it as a joke... but if he doesn't 😏.

Merlin: (even more red) You are all crazy. (leaves)

Gwen: (sighs) Waiting for them to get together, it's almost as frustrating as waiting for you to ask my hand in marriage.

Lancelot: What?! 😳

Gwen: Nothing! 😄 (leaves)

In Arthur's tent.

Merlin: (enters) Nervous?

Arthur: Not at all.

Merlin: Really? Because you have a real opponent this time.

Arthur: If you are so sure Lancelot will win, why not make a bet?

Merlin: A bet?

Arthur: If I win, which I surely will, you'll have to do whatever I ask for a week?

Merlin: Don't I already on a daily basis? 😒

Arthur: Above the line of duty. But, if Lancelot wins you can ask anything of me for a week. Anything and I'll do it.

Merlin: (smiles mischievously) Alright. I hope you don't mind doing my chores for a week.

Arthur: (smiles back) We'll see about that.

People cheer outside.

Merlin: They are... waiting for you, my lord. (thinking about Gwen and Lancelot's words) This is stupid. This is SO stupid!

Arthur: (ready to steal Merlin's neckerchief, smirking) Well, I'm gonna need all the luck I can ge-

Merlin: (extends a hand with other neckerchief awkwardly, blushing) This... this one is better.

Arthur: ...

Merlin: (ties it quickly around Arthur's arm, avoiding his eyes at all time) There.

Arthur: ... Merlin-

Servant x: (enters) Sire, the crowd is expecting you.

Arthur: Yeah, in a minute, I was- (turns to Merlin)

Merlin: (Already gone)

Arthur: (sighs, but then smiles full of hope) I'm coming.

After a very close competition, Arthur wins the tournament. Though people will talk about "Sir William" participation and how he seemed this close to win The Prince of Camelot. Both Merlin and Gwen cheered for their knights (though Merlin will never admit it). However, Arthur didn't give Merlin back his neckerchief, which the warlock doesn't know if he should take as a good or bad sign. Maybe Arthur didn't even catch whatever he was trying to intend and Merlin thinks it's better like that.

In Arthur's tent. After the tournament.

Merlin: (finishes to put Arthur out of his armor)

Arthur: So?

Merlin: So?

Arthur: (flirtatiously) I want my reward. 😏

Merlin: ¡Oh, right! What is it going to be? Dress fools clothes for a week? Or are you going to make me wear a dress? Please, don't make me wear a dress.

Arthur: Tempting, but no. (gets closer to Merlin) I have something else in mind.

Merlin: What is it then?

Arthur: (just looks at him, still smiling)

Merlin: (giggles) What? Come on. Don't act all mysterious now-

Arthur: (kisses him)

Merlin: (Merlin exe has stopped working) ...

Arthur: (pulls away at the lack of response) Merlin?

Merlin: (blinks) Thank you (leaves running)

Arthur: (chuckles softly) Uhm... You are welcome?

In Lancelot's tent.

Gwen: You did great, even if you lost.

Lancelot: (holding her hand) With you I already feel like a winner.

Gwen: 😍

Lancelot: (hesitantly) Gwen, about... asking your ha-

Merlin: (enters, talking fast) Hi, Lancelot, can I borrow Gwen for a moment? Thank you! (grabs Gwen's wrist and pulls her)

Gwen: Wha-wait! Merlin! (And they both leave)

Lancelot: ...

Somewhere apart from everyone else.

Gwen: What is it?

Merlin: (still quite in shock) Arthur... kissed me.

Gwen: (To the Sky) FINALLY! Thanks to all the Gods! (Hugs him) I'm so happy for you!

Merlin: ...

Gwen: (pulls away, confused) You should be celebrating. Why aren't you celebrating?

Merlin: Is he echanted?

Gwen: What?

Merlin: This seems too far for a joke. He must be echanted. But... why would someone echant him to kiss me?

Gwen: You have to be kidding me! (Holds Merlin by the shoulders) Merlin, it's obvious Arthur has feelings for you! Had them for a very long time! I know it, Lancelot knows it, Leon, Gaius, all the knights and servants. Even the King knows it! (lifts her hands in the air) Everyone knows it!

Merlin: But... that's impossible.

Gwen: He just kissed you!

Merlin: I know!

Gwen: Then what makes you doubt? Was it something he said after he kissed you?

Merlin: Uh...

Gwen: He did say something, right?

Merlin: Well, he asked "Merlin?"

Gwen: And then?

Merlin: I said "thank you".

Gwen: (almost yells) You said "thank You"!? 😱

Merlin: And I ran away.

Gwen: (definitely yells now) YOU RAN AWAY?!! 😡

Merlin: Stop yelling!

Gwen: (takes deeps breaths to compose herself) Sorry, but... why?

Merlin: I don't know! He kissed me out of nowhere and my heart went thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, and my mind (makes sound and gesture of explosion). I wasn't able to react at all and "thank you" was the only thing that came to my mind and then everything was too much so my first instinct was running! So I ran. And now I'm telling you so you can tell me what to do.

Gwen: Oh, you want me to tell you what to do?

Merlin: Yes!

Gwen: TALK TO HIM!

Time skip. In Arthur's chambers.

Merlin: (enters, nervous) Hi...

Arthur: (turns and smiles) There you are, gone boy. Brought my lunch already?

Merlin: You... kissed me.

Arthur: I did.

Merlin: ...Why?

Arthur: (frowns) I thought it was obvious.

Merlin: ...

Arthur: Merlin, I've been courting you for months.

Merlin: What?! When?! 😨

Arthur: When not? I gifted you a flower, new clothes, a horse. I even gave you my mother's sigil.

Merlin: But... that's impossible. You-you like girls.

Arthur: (laughs softly) Have you seen me with any girl?

Merlin: N-no. But even if you-you liked boys that way, you can't have feelings for me. That doesn't make sense. Nothing is making sense! NO! There is no way you-Or maybe it is joke, but this is too cruel. You wouldn't-Or am I dreaming? That must be it, I'm dreaming-

Arthur: (holds Merlin gently by the shoulders) Merlin. (craddles his face with a hand) Look at me.

Merlin: (looks at Arthur with watery eyes)

Arthur: You are not dreaming. This is real. My feelings for you (puts Merlin's hand on his chest) Are real. I can't tell you exactly how it started, it's... complicated. (holds his hands lovinly) But when I realised, you were the only thing that kept me going, my purpose, my reason for existing. I think it was always there, but I was so blind! (gives a watery laugh and his eyes water) I wasted so much time... But I won't waste it anymore.

Merlin: I... don't understand-

Arthur: I love you, Merlin. Gods knows why, you are such a pain in the ass sometimes, but I do. You drive me crazy and infuriate me more than anybody else has ever done, but you also make my day better with your rambling, when you laugh or just smile. I love your clumsiness, your bravery, your disrespectful, but loyal self. You are the chaos in person, so full of contradictions, but you are also the calm to my storm, the light to my dark, the half that makes me whole. There's really no words to decribe how much I love you, I could say I love you with all my heart, but it wouldn't be enough. I could say I love you with all my being, but that's still not accuarate. Just know that I rather die than live in a world where you aren't, that there is no line I wouldn't cross for you, that I love you madly, beyond all reason, beyond all the words that could exist. I love you more than I ever have loved and will love anyone. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Merlin: (merlin exe has stopped working again)

Arthur: Merlin?

Merlin: ...

Arthur: Please, say something.

Merlin: ...Thank you. (lets go of his hands and leaves)

Arthur: (stunned in place, between confused and hurt)... What?

Time skip. In Gwen's house.

Gwen: (yelling) YOU SAID THANK YOU AGAIN?! 😡

Merlin: I panicked!

Gwen: (makes a move to go to Merlin, screaming in rage)

Lancelot: (holds her by the waist)

Gwen: Let go of me! I'm gonna kill him! 😤(struggles)

Tom: (enters) Gwen, you have... (trails off at seeing the scene before him)

Morgana: (enters too) Uhm... What is going on?

Gwen: Arthur confessed his love to Merlin and HE (points at Merlin) just said "thank you" and left!

Morgana: (gets furious too) YOU LITTLE SHIT! 😡 (makes a gesture to go to Merlin too)

Tom: (holds Morgana by the waist) Wooow! What's with all the violence?

Morgana: He's been preparing how to confess to you for MONTHS! YOU ASSHOLE! 😤

Lancelot: Please, my ladys, I'm as upset as you are, but beating Merlin up is not going to solve anything. Calm down, please.

Morgana: (still struggling against Tom) Why would you say such a hurtful thing?! Were you playing with his feelings all this time?!

Merlin: No! I didn't want to hurt him, I didn't even know about his feelings until today!

Morgana: Don't you love him?

Merlin: I do!

Morgana: Then WHY in all hell's did you say "thank you" instead of "I love you too"?!

Merlin: BECAUSE I BURIED THOSE WORDS IN MY HEART FOR YEARS!

Morgana: (Stops struggling and Tom lets go of her)

Gwen: (stops struggling and Lancelot lets go of her)

Merlin: (his eyes watering) I prepared myself to never say it, because he was never supposed to love me back. Because he was going to meet a nice girl someday and fall in love with her and be happy. He was supposed to grow old with her while I just standed by and watched, always by his side. And one day in the far future, when he's on his deathbed or I in mine, I would finally tell him and we both would laugh about how silly my crush was and Arthur would joke saying that he's flattered but I'm not his type. And that would be our last memory together!

Morgana, Gwen and Lancelot: ...

Tom: Wow.. You really visualized all that? (goes to Merlin and pats his shoulder) You have a great imagination kid.

Merlin: (thinking) Is not imagination, in a way I already lived it.

Tom: Well, I have to get back to work. You can stay here all you want if you promise to be civilized, Okay?

Morgana: Of course, Tom. My apologies for my previous behaviour.

Gwen: My too, dad.

Tom: (smiles) It's forgiven. (whispers to Lancelot) Call me if you need me. (leaves)

Lancelot: Merlin, were the words "Thank you" chose randomly to replace the words "I love you" or... you actually felt thankful?

Merlin: (tears rollling down his eyes) It's a miracle he even spears a glance at me. Of course I'm thankful. Why he even loves me, I don't understand.

Gwen: I didn't know you had yourself in such low self esteem. Merlin, you are wonderful person. There's nothing not to love about you.

Merlin: Well, I doubt Arthur still loves me after this.

Morgana: You messed up. Doesn't mean you can't make it right. Go talk to him. Explain to him what you just told us.

Merlin: I can't! Not with the mouth I have, I'll probably end up just saying "thank you" again.

Gwen: What if... you don't actually say it?

Time skip. In Leon's chambers.

Arthur: (lying on Leon's bed, sad) And then he just said "Thank you". What does that even mean?

Leon: (in a chair nearby) Well, if it had been any other person. I would say you were rejected, Sire, but it's Merlin. You can't really tell with him.

Arthur: (sighs) I thought I got the signals right. He gave me his neckerchief willingly today, I thought that was a move! Giving your favor to a knight in a tournament is always a romantic move, isn't it Leon?

Leon: Of course, Sire.

Arthur: Or maybe he just got tired of me stealing his neckerchief constantly and I got it all wrong. (sinks his face in his hands)

Leon: I don't believe so, Sire.

Arthur: Then why did he say "thank you"?! (covers himself with the the covers) He loved me before! Why doesn't he love me here too?!

Leon: Wait, Merlin said he loved you before?

Arthur: No, after. But that after doesn't exist anymore.

Leon: ... Are you drunk, Sire?

Someone knocks the door.

Leon: Who is it?

Merlin: Leon, have you seen Arthur? I need to talk to him.

Leon: (looking at Arthur) Uhm...

Arthur: (composes himself as quickly as he can and gets off the bed) I'm here.

Leon: (opens the door)

Merlin: (enters hesitantly) Hey... I was looking for you.

Arthur: It seemed more that you were running from me.

Merlin: Yeah... Sorry about that.

Uncomfortable silence.

Arthur: Leon, can you leave us alone, please?

Leon: Of course, Sire. (bows and leaves, thinking) Kicked out of my own room. The things I do for these two.

Arthur: I want an answer. I real answer. If you are going to reject me, do it properly, cause if you say "thank you" again, I swear to the gods, merlin, I-

Merlin: (extends a hand with a letter)

Arthur: What is that?

Merlin: My answer. (blushes furiously) I... can't trust my tongue to not mess it up again, so... I wrote it down.

Arthur: (takes the letter in silence)

Merlin: I'll leave you to read it-

Arthur: No, Merlin you are going to stay right there until I finish reading.

Merlin: But-

Arthur: I think it's the least I deserve.

Merlin: (nods, still feeling bad) You're right. Go ahead.

Arthur: (opens the letter and reads)

"Arthur, I'm so sorry for how I reacted and that I hurt you with my words, but you kissing me so suddenly and professing your love for me so deeply, you down-struck-disarm me. I never thought someone like you would ever love someone like me. And I'm not saying this because you are the prince and I a servant. You know I don't care about titles. I'm saying this because you are the bravest, most righteous, and courageous man I have ever known. How could such a man love me? You said you can't tell when you fell in love with me. But me? I don't think there was a moment that a didn't love you. I am so hopelessly in love with you, every part of you, even when you act like a prat or a dollopehead and make me want to punch you in the face. But I resigned myself that I would never have you for so long that you corresponding my feelings, I couldn't believe it was real. I still don't believe it's real. You are promising me the sun, Arthur. How can I believe the sun is now mine? This love confession is not nearly as beautiful as yours, but I want you to know for certain that-”

Merlin: I love you (his eyes watering, but smiling).

Arthur: (looking at Merlin, wonderstruck and grinning more widely than Merlin has ever seen him) Say it again. (gets closer to Merlin)

Merlin: I said it? 😧... Oh, gods I said! 😨 I actually said it. Okay. Good.

Arthur: (gets closer) Merlin-

Merlin: Did you finish reading it? My thoughs are more organized there, I swear!

Arthur: (and closer) Merlin-

Merlin: Please, I don't want to mess it up again-

Arthur: Merlin! (holds his face in his hands, their chest so close they can touch, his grin bright as the stars) Say it again.

Merlin: (his eyes find Arthur's and he smiles) I love you. So, so much it hurts.

Arthur: Thank you.

Merlin and Arthur: (laugh)

Arthur: (kisses him)

Merlin: (kisses back)

Any rational thought, feel of insecurity or nervousness is gone at the feeling of Arthur's mouth moving on his. First tender and sweet, but then the kiss deepens and Arthur's tongue is probing against his lips. Then Merlin's arms are around Arthur's neck and his fingers in his hair, while Arthur holds him closer by the waist. This is better than he ever dare to imagine. It's overwhelming. All too much, all too good to be real. He could feel the so called butterflies in his stomach-

But suddenly, in the instant he opens his eyes, he notices there are butterflies, ACTUAL butterflies, flying around the room.

Merlin: (pulls away from Arthur abruptly, thinking in panic) Shit, shit, shit, shit!

Arthur: (confused) What's the- (notices the butterflies) Wow... Where did they-

Merlin: (shouts) THE WINDOW! (composes himself, blushing) I mean, they probably came... from the window.

Arthur: (realises it was Merlin, but decides to play along) Yeah, probably. How odd. Do butterflies normaly shine like that?

Merlin: (even more red) No, it's a... very weird species.

Arthur: (smirks) Well, where were we? (about to kiss Merlin again)

Merlin: (stops him, putting a hand on his chest) Uhm... Can we... go slow? (thinking) I can't have more butterflies appearing out of nowhere!

Arthur: (remembers why Merlin is called "The Unicorn Catcher" and facepalms himself mentally) Right, of course. Forgive me, I shouldn't have lost control like that. But I wanted this for so long-Not that I only thought about doing this especifically. I want everything with you! Wait, that sounded bad. What I meant to say is that I don't only wish to do, uhm, physical things with you. I want to court you properly, I've already been doing it. I do respect you-

Merlin: (chuckles)

Arthur: What's so funny?

Merlin: Nothing, it's good to know I'm not the only one who is a mess. (gives a long sigh) Gods, I still can't believe any of this is real!

Arthur: (smiles and holds his hands tenderly) Believe it. I'll tell you all the times I have to until you do. I love you, Merlin.

Merlin: (smiles) And I love you.

Arthur and Merlin: (loss each other again in each other's eyes and lean to kiss)

Suddenly the door opens and Morgana, Gwen, Leon and Lancelot fall to the floor like if they had been leaning on the door and lost support.

Arthur and Merlin: ...

Leon, Lancelot, Gwen and Morgana: (stand up quickly)

Arthur: Uhm...What are you doing here? 🤨

Leon: I was about to get something from my room.

Lancelot: I was looking for Leon.

Gwen: I was accompanying him.

Morgana: I was... passing by.

An uncomfortable silence.

Leon: (looks around the room) Why are there butterflies in my room?

Arthur and Merlin: (shout) THE WINDOW!

...

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @starrieisdelusional , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @curiously-lazy , @harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo , @whitemaskcd , @bogslob , @tkmaras , @rubinaitoart

Carson Langell, Heir to Earl Langell

Summary: Your childhood best friend was always a weird one, but you still loved him as a best friend none the less.

Warning: stalking, obessive behavior, never backing down when no is implied, I don't condone it, I just write it.

A/N: THIS ART IS NOT MINE IT'S THE MALE LEAD OF THE SECOND LIFE OF THE TRASH PRINCESS.

Connected to Yandere Isekai M. Characters x F. Reader

Carson has always loved you. Your families close from each other father's friendship and how well your mothers got along. He always remembered summertime at your manor. Playing as the princess who was protected by you, the knight from the dragons that were your servants. Spending days coloring and drawing, and reading books about fairytale romances. Sleeping together and always having sleepovers. He loved it.

He also loved your personality. You were mean to everyone but him. You always treated him with kindness and utmost importance. You cared for him if he fell down off a tree and got his knees badly scraped. If he got scarred by your family's hunting dogs, you would chase the dogs off somewhere where they won't bother him. If he got sick, you would care for him.

At some point, he realized something. After seeing your smiles and hearing your kind words, only for him, he realized what was happening to him. His ears blushed, his face felt hot, his heart beat at a quicker pace, and he felt like his tongue got tied every time he talked to you. At 8 years old, he finally realized something.

He realized he loved you more than a friend.

He will always see you as someone he always wanted to be near and close with.

He will make sure of it.

A strange boy came into your manor one day. His carriage, noble and opulent to look at. He thought nothing of it until he saw you talking to the boy, smiling and acting nice like you would with him. You laughed and smiled and talked absolute nonsense at times, like you did with him. The boy's expression looked like he hated it. How ungrateful.

To be graced with your presence and to ignore it because you find her boring? How dare he?!

It was also then when he found out from the butler that he was her betrothed. "What does betrothed mean?"

"Betrothed means to get married in the future, young master Langell."

Married in the future. A dream. His father told him once before. Marriage meant being together forever with the one you love. But right now, you were being forced to be with that boy for the rest of your life?!

He will not allow that!

He would never allow that!

He started being more clingy towards you, especially with that boy around. Always vying for your attention to grace him instead of that boy. But your behavior towards that boy was no help.

Yelling at girls who kept on talking to him, dumping that dark grape juice on their dress, you proved yourself to be completely enamored with him, and he didn't like that. He thought that he could've proved himself and get you to ditch him for him, but it didn't matter when he felt like he was losing.

How can you ditch him for that other boy just because of maybe looks? What did you like about him?

His looks? He thought he was pretty ugly.

His personality? He thought he was a trashy person.

His title? He doesn't remember it, but maybe it's because it wasn't very important.

But more importantly, what did that boy have that he didn't?

The day you had gotten the high fever, he felt like the world was going to end. The minute he had gotten that letter, he was freaking out big time. He hated how he felt hapless and uncontrolled. His little tricks didn't work when you were sick for 3 days. That boy came by, and he looked so different.

After you had woken up, you changed for the worse.

You stopped acting distant towards people and, instead, treated them with kindness. Helping the maids with their personal situations, talking more to everybody in noble society, being more open and more approachable. Everything changed after that day.

That stupid guy who he thought was worse than him all of a sudden was paying attention to you. Bring you gifts, his hand on your waist, kissing your hand, directly, holding hands with you, and dancing closely with you on the dance floor.

Which led him to up his game. Being pitiful. Being purposefully weak, sickly (from standing in the rain), and being injured to show you his pitiful side. It worked. Well.

It gave him excuses to be closer to you. To lay on your lap because he felt weak, to cling onto you because he was tired, and to always be cared for, by you.

But one day, you had gotten a guard. And not just any guard. It was the hero of the Bloody 10 Year war. He recalled seeing him at his ceremonial ball, meant for his victory against the rebelling state. Why would he want the position of a guard for a small count family. instead of a title of marquis, he doesn't know.

But he sure knows that he is truly annoying. Always being near. His job was to be near and protect you at all times, from a distance, not right directly in his face. That guard dog was annoying and some how even more clingy than him.

The men before him, were no competition, but now he had 2 rivals battling for her affection.

"(n/n)! I have a headache! Please help me!"

The day he had overheard your annulment talk, he was so happy. He was elated. He could finally have his chance with you.

He could give you the sweetest desserts from your favorite bakery, give you a field's worth of roses, a million kisses everywhere (I mean everywhere), and be the shoulder for you to cry on.

He could be your soulmate if you just let him.

"I need to prepare a bunch of roses and some sweets, maybe I should go ring shopping while at it..."

A/N: I'm trying to get all 3 guys released before I truly do commission work. But still. Did you enjoy it?

Violent Delights (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: As a dornish princess, you live by one saying. All is fair in love and war. When Prince Daemon stumbles into your life, you start to reconsider your stance.

Warnings: Fluff. Pining, yearning, childhood crush. Mentions of sex, sexual thoughts, noncon (Baby reader catching Daemon in the act, it doesn't last long, adults intervene) all the usual Daemon warnings.

A/N: Meet dornish reader! I wanted to explore how Daemon can be in character and be with an actual age appropriate woman. Enjoy.

The first time you see Daemon Targaryen, you are twelve years old. Twelve years old and fascinated by the rain. It’s not something you usually see in Dorne, so as you trail your older brother around the Red Keep, you slip away to get a closer look.

You have never been good at orientating yourself, specially in such large spaces. You climb a stair and go in circles, before you decide to start opening doors. Unsure of which wing you are in, you decide to enter the first empty room you see.

Much to your delight, it is a sitting room with large windows. You choose the biggest one, underneath which a tiny windowsill will do quite nicely for a resting place. The window is heavy to your child self, a monstrosity made of a darker wood unseen in Dorne. You manage to pry it open with great effort and sit by it, one hand extended to feel the raindrops.

It's freezing. It feels just like running water does, but much colder. You close your eyes, committing the feeling to memory. In Dorne, desert and sand extends for miles and miles. When it rains, it's never like this. There are small drizzles, but nothing like this absolute downpour.

If it were to rain like this back home, panic would spread among the population. Crops would get ruined, houses would end up sunk in mud. But as you look down, you do not see hurried servants spreading sand or sawwood in the entrances, much less dragging furniture inside. Everything here seems to be built to withstand the climate.

You close your eyes again, feeling utterly at peace. The soft patter of the rain, so frightening at first, now feels much more calming. This is nice. You could get used to this, you think. Perhaps, when you are older, Qoren might marry you off to a kingdom where there is rain. You would like it, you think. It's a very marvelous thing. Majestic, even. There is a certain beauty in the natural forces making themselves known.

The door opens. You startle. When you look up, you are greeted by the sight of a couple kissing passionately. It’s a blonde man, tall and handsome, and a serving girl. Frozen in place, you stay quiet. You aren’t sure what the protocol is for this, if you should clear your throat or walk out quietly.

The couple parts. The man, young, around her age, pushes the woman down to her knees and starts undoing his clothing. He is a noble of some sort, you know it by the gambeson he wears. It's too finely crafted to be otherwise.

And sure, you are dornish. Someone has given you the talk about the birds and the bees already, along with some necessary knowledge of the feminine mystique. It doesn't mean you want to witness an unknown couple going at it.

As you get down from the windowsill, your shoes thud a little too hard on the floor. The woman doesn’t take notice, her mouth already… Well. But the man, blonde, Targaryen blonde, you think, looks up.

At first, it is as if he doesn’t see you. His face is contorted with pleasure, eyes nearly closed. He is beautiful, you think. His features stand out to you, specially because you are not used to people being so…white. The way he is lost in his pleasure, too, speaks to you in ways you can't yet comprehend.

Then, his eyes meet yours and widen. He is surprised at your presence, but it barely lasts. Without any ounce of shame, he gives you a superior smirk and winks.

You shriek. The serving girl pulls off him as if he were on fire. The man groans.

“Shut up, little girl.” He says, to you, as he pulls the serving girl back on. “In a few years, you too will be on your knees for a man.”

“My Prince!” The girl sounds scandalized. You can tell she is on the verge of placing herself between him and you. It's all over on the way she stands, blocking your view of his nakedness. You wonder if she fears damaging your innocence or what the man might do to you in a fit of temper. You have heard these Targaryens are quite spirited. “She is a child!”

“A dornish one.” The man, the Prince, shrugs. “Now, she can either stay or get out, but I am…”

Whatever he is, he doesn’t get to say it. No, because the door opens yet again, slamming against the wall. You startle, and so does the Prince. The serving girl starts quietly weeping, something along the lines of how she is sure she is about to lose her job.

Helplessly, three pairs of eyes shift to the door. There are guards, spears at the ready, at the forefront of it. One of them even drops his weapon, before shielding his eyes.

“What in the…”

The King and your older brother step inside the room, pushing past the men. Your brother's eyes are frantic, his hands reaching desperately for you.

The Prince still has his pants down.

Your brother takes one look at you, and one look at the Prince and loudly declares:

“We are leaving.”

Safe to say, Dorne does not join the other kingdoms that day.

There are many thoughts in your head about Daemon Targaryen after that. That he is handsome, and bold, and you always smile when told of his exploits. It's not a trait you should admire, as a second daughter, but you like his rebelliousness. When he gets the moniker of the Rogue Prince, you think it fitting.

You grow, during those years. You turn into a beautiful woman, sharp and bold, flourishing in the way women do when free to pursue their interests. But in your suitors' eyes, you have one fatal flaw: You live as you please and bed exactly the number of people you desire to bed.

In Daemon's eyes, though, you are a ghost. A memory that haunts him, every once in a while. He has heard of you, of your beauty and independence. He wonders if he was the one to initiate you into the world of pleasure, if that's why you have turned into such a siren. It's not often that Daemon does, but when he wonders, he recalls the face you had made when shattering your innocence.

But you don't know that yet. The more you grow, the more you forget him, even starting to feel a mild annoyance towards his house.

“You can never trust a Martell.” Or so King Viserys said, when your brother's offer to fund his side during the war at the Stepstones reached him. But he certainly finds it convenient because he pockets the gold so fast, one might believe him a dornish lover.

While it was true that you had an unfortunate habit of deceptiveness, it was not as if you changed sides as fast as a viper shed her skin. You only do it twice a year. Every six months is the perfect time to conduct an assessment of your investments.

Because that was what it was. War was no more than profit, for you, and most of the nobles in Westeros. The only difference is that you were much more honest about it than most.

It wasn't necessarily profitable in terms of gold. No, sometimes it meant gaining lands, or getting other kingdoms to respect you, so you could retain your freedom. But regardless of what you were gaining, you tended to look at things in a rather practical way. Some things were worth the sacrifice, some weren't.

Qoren lacked a business instinct. You had told him time and time again that the Triarchy was not a good investment. You would be losing men and funds, only to stick it to the Targaryens. Grievances aside, it was not worth it. You had to think about the good of your people.

Yet no matter how much you insisted, Qoren refused to see reason. Too proud. He had argued that the Iron Throne was going to scam you, in some way or another. When he had finally conceded to jumping ships, you had found out that he might be right.

While much more profitable than your time with the Triarchy, considering that you were now about to win the war, you were pretty sure you were being robbed. The funds you gave them slipped though their fingers faster than sand. They were either very dumb and got duped every time they bought supplies, or they were inflating the costs on purpose.

The deal had been clear. You would foot one quarter of the expenses for the lasts months of the campaign. But it seemed like you were footing the whole war with how much they were asking for.

While Qoren ruled Sunspear, you had always done your best to be involved in his politics as much as you could. Having been raised with the freedom most dorsnishwomen were, you had not been eager to make a political marriage or leave your home for a land that would think you too unconventional. Instead, to guarantee not being sent away, you had endeavored to make yourself as useful as you could.

But as you grew, you had proven to be much more than so. While he had made a good marriage, with a kind woman, she had not been raised in the way that you had been. You had turned indispensable in the ruling of Sunspear, his Lady in all but the fact that you did not share his bed.

It helped that, unmarried as you were, you retained your title. And as the Princess as you were, you didn't stand for being made a fool. That fact, aided by the hot-blooded nature of the Martells, had been what had prompted you to travel by yourself to the war camp.

If the lords loyal to the Iron Throne did, why couldn't you?

Much to your surprise, when you finally arrive at the Stepstones, it seems like the war is over. You find men pillaging the caves where the Crab King kept his few riches. A few wounded lay on the floor, others already taken by the Stranger.

You step in the sand, kicking a few bodies away to make room for yourself. The whole place is a mess. There are some fires going. Some men are rounding up the enemy’s soldiers, either killing them or placing them in chains. You wrinkle your nose in disgust at the smell of blood and burned flesh.

Slowly, you start to make your way forward. You have made sure to be dressed in the bright yellows and oranges of House Martell, to avoid being confused with someone else. The heavy, male boots you are wearing contrast sharply with the daintiness of your attire.

As you make your way forward, some men try to approach you. You gesture to your guards, a second son of House Dayne and a young man by the last name of Sand, to block their paths.

“Who is that?” Some men ask, dumbly. You roll your eyes. What sort of allies were these, that they didn't recognize your standard?

“Hey, Lady, you can’t be here!” And oh, the sheer stupidity of them all. If you didn't know their lords to be much more cunning, this display might have actually led you to believe that they were, in fact, being duped time and time again instead of inflating the cost of supplies.

“… The Maiden…” Now, that one was a bit better. You looked good in your traveling dress, despite the chunky boots.

“What is she..?”

You bat them all away, set on reaching the center of the smoking ruins. You know the men you seek must be there. The faint screeches of dragons tell you that.

Your knights locate a rock for you to sit on. They stand guard, their backs turned to you. You eye the carnage around you and decide that yes, the rock is precisely where you wish to sit. It's high enough that you get a vantage point to watch the terrain, but not too tall you will need aid to get up on it.

When you sit down, carefully spreading your skirts to not let them touch the dirt, someone sits by your side. You don't need to look up to know it's who you seek. Your guards wouldn't have let him approach if he wasn't.

“Quite the entrance.” He says, casually leaving his sword on the sand. “You have grown.”

Pretending not to recognize him, you look at your nails, casually. His voice sounds exactly as you remember it.

“Do I know you?”

“More intimately than you probably wished at the time.” He laughs, and you finally risk your first glance at him. Daemon Targaryen is still in his armor, covered in so much blood he looks positively feral. His hair, in intricate little braids, is as beautiful as you remember, even if limp and tinted red. A shame he will probably have to cut it now because by the looks of it, the blood and sooth are not coming off.

You are no longer a girl of twelve years old, and he is no longer the young Prince you once caught in the act. Yet, he is still disarmingly handsome. Despite the years and the self assuredness you have managed to cultivate, he leaves you weak at the knees.

How could one say this in a polite manner? Daemon had featured in quite a few of your teenage fantasies, as you grew older. After catching him in the act, you had had an interesting conversation with Qoren. It had opened your eyes to a whole new world of pleasure.

Twelve years old was an impressionable age, especially for young maidens. You had flowered not long afterwards your first exposure to sex. Back then, you hadn't understood what you had witnessed properly, but as you grew, your imagination did too. And Dorne was not a place for the shy.

As you started to look at the world with the eyes of a woman, you had experienced your first infatuation, and it had been on him. Never before had you met a northern that was as open-minded about pleasure as Daemon was, and that fact had made you wonder what it would be like to share his bed. And then, the war at the Stepstones had reawakened your teenage urges.

“You!” You play it cool, as if you had not set up this whole thing on the odd chance of getting to see him. Dornishmen were no strangers to pleasure, after all. And you had never been good at denying yourself of anything you wanted. “The boy in the sitting room.”

“The girl at the window.” Daemon conceded, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “And here I thought I would have to lower my pants.”

You snickered. Daemon looked perplexed for a second, before snickering too. You could tell he was impressed by your lack of a reaction to his joke, probably because he had thought it would scandalize you.

The moment is cut short, though, by his own sobering up.

“You shouldn't be here, little dornish girl.”

“Oh?” You extend your legs in front of you, getting comfortable. Will he mention the elephant in the room, or will you have to?

“These men have not seen a woman in months.” Daemon answers, lightly curling his hand over the pommel of his sword. You look around you, noticing that some of the men are, in fact, staring hungrily at you. It's not something that bothers you, any longer. Despite the nickname Daemon has bestowed on you, you are no girl. Younger than him by a few years, you are more of an old maid. You were used to men's attention. As the Princess of Dorne, you had come to expect it.

“And that concerns me, how?” Because there are much more interesting matters you wish to discuss, rather than the ogling of some uncouth northerns. For one, where was your gold going. Second, what were you having for dinner. Third, if he was going to join you.

“Do I really have to explain?” Daemon arches an eyebrow. Deciding to play coy, you give him a sweet look.

“Please. Do not deprive me of the pleasure of your opinions.” And if it comes out a bit ironic, Daemon doesn't seem to notice, too entranced by the way you are twirling one of your dark curls between your fingers.

“Plenty of hungry cats.” He says, as if in a daze. Apparently, Daemon hasn't seen a woman in months either, if seducing him will be this easy. “And you are looking an awful lot like a little mouse.”

You fight the urge to snicker. You were no mouse, but a viper, and you were ready to strike. But if he fancied himself the protector, you didn't mind playing into it.

“Well, good thing you are here. Now they think this little mouse is spoken for.” You run a hand over his arm, softly. Your hands lift a trace of the blood in his armor, leaving behind a drawing made up of empty space.

“Are you?” He arches an eyebrow, unbothered at the contact. You retract your hand, staring at your now bloody fingernails.

A scattering of images comes to mind. Maidenheads, bloody sheets. The girl you were at twelve. The man he is now. Your nails scratching lines on his back, biting at his throat, nipping at his lips. Unable to connect the thoughts, you let them go until only a pleasant smile remains.

“Are you a hungry cat?”

“No, little mouse.” Daemon tucks a loose curl behind your ear. As his hand comes down, he caresses your neck, lightly. It's barely a brush of his fingertips, yet your breath falters. He leans in, as if sharing a secret. His next words come out in a whisper. “I am a hungry dragon.”

Predictable, if a bit witty. Targaryens and their dragons. Despite it, you enjoy how much of an effort he is putting in. As a Martell, people often expect you to do all the seducing, not noticing you like being seduced as well. It's good that someone finally acknowledges it takes two to dance.

“That explains the never-ending appetite.” You tease, leaning towards him as well. The sun is starting to settle around you, some of his men lighting fires. They do not seem about to stop their pillaging. You wonder if Corlys Velaryon is near, and if so, why he doesn't stop them.

“You have no idea.” His voice is low and smooth. His hand is still on your loose curl, lower, this time. Barely touching your collarbone. His eyes are dark, and you doubt it is from the change in lighting. "A taste would never satiate me.”

“Shame. Little mice make for small bites, I think.” Your lips quirk up at the corners, barely suppressing a laugh. Expert in denial as you are, you know now is the time to retreat. You want him hooked on you so badly, he never sees your next move.

“I would make sure to do so very slowly. Savor it.” Daemon's thumb rubs just between your collarbones, tracing a path towards the valley of your breasts. You move away before he can reach it.

“Maybe, hungry cat.” You stress the last word, already knowing how you will lead Daemon into your trap. It will only take a few well-placed prods at his ego.

“Hungry dragon.” He repeats, a bit annoyed. The idea that you do not recognize him by his proper title upsets him. You laugh.

“Oh, but you look like a starved cat. A stray.”

“I am no stray.” Daemon complains. You arch an eyebrow, coolly.

“What else is a Prince doing fighting a war so far from home?”

Daemon stares at you. You are willing to admit it was quite mean on your part. Perhaps a tad too vicious. But you have yet to accomplish what you wish to, hence why you take it even further.

“You have until tomorrow to deposit the gold you have stolen from us in coffers.”

His whole face shifts, flirty expression replaced by a mask of indifference that is not fooling anyone. Caught off guard by your words, Daemon resorts back to his only defense mechanism.

“And if I don't?” He thrusts his chin up, defiant.

“You will find yourself at war with Dorne.” Your tone is even. Your voice doesn't waver, as if you were discussing the weather and not defying a kingdom much larger than yours.

“And you will declare war with two knights?” Daemon laughs.

“Have you met Dalton Greyjoy, perhaps?” You lean back on the rock, tilting your face up to the sun. Soaking in it. “Awfully young ironborn. Eager to prove himself, much more so if it's to beautiful women. Or so I hear.”

“You have allied yourself with the Iron Islands?”

You say nothing. Instead, you give him an enchanting tilt of the head, as if he was no more than one of your suitors. Your lips stretch into a coy little smile, one that tells him you have a secret he is not privy to.

“I do not believe you.” Daemon shakes his head. He crosses his arms over his chest, before uncrossing them and shaking his head yet again. Stunned. “No. Prince Qoren would never allow it.”

“Qoren would not?” You repeat, mockingly. “And pray tell, since when do you know him so well?”

“Do you know why he dropped the Triarchy?” The question is unexpected. Before this, you had not bothered to wonder about your brother's motives. Used as you were at things going your way, you had assumed Qoren had seen the wisdom of your advice and decided to take it.

“Because I told him it was a bad investment.” You answer, refusing to back down. What could Daemon Targaryen know of the motivations of a prince of Dorne? Nothing. He had to be bluffing, searching for a weakness he could exploit to get out of this.

“Because the Crab King, over there…” Daemon gestures vaguely in the direction of the corpses. “Had eyes that lingered too much on you. And if this Greyjoy boy is the same…”

You blink a few times. It makes sense. The Crab King had never tried to seduce you, yet you know men like that are not used to asking. Instead, they order. You can only guess the face Qoren made when faced with such a demand. He is as proud as you are.

Daemon could be lying, of course. Trying to make you doubt Qoren. Divide and conquer, and all that. You can't let that happen. Everyone knows the two of you are a team. Whatever grievances you have to air with him, they will be on private. You tuck away the piece of information for later, and focus on what's in front of you.

“If Qoren is willing to turn into a turncloak for my sake…” You narrow your eyes at Daemon, menacingly. You know as well as him that the easiest way to stop you is to hurt you. Kill you, perhaps. But it would mean war. “Think of what he will do to you, if you hurt me.”

“You will have your coffers tomorrow, Princess.” Daemon says, bitterly. He knows he has lost. You outmaneuvered him. House Martell has never bowed to dragons. If Daemon declares war on Dorne, his brother will pull the support from the Iron Throne. Corlys Velaryon will not want to get involved, no matter how much he has benefitted from their plot. He cannot wage war alone.

You get up. You dust off your skirts.

“Good. And make sure you bathe before touching the gold. Wouldn't want you staining it.”

You do go back to Dorne with a chest full of gold, and then some. As it seems to be a tendency with Daemon, you almost forget all about him before he is barging into your life again.

It happens on an odd afternoon, while you are trying to broker a deal with a foreign King. The tart taste of the berries makes you scrunch up your face. It's more acidic than what you are used to, but good nonetheless. You smile at the King in front of you. He looks on the verge of drooling.

“I am glad you like it, my Princess.” He simpers. “I must say the shade compliments your caramel skin quite well.”

Caramel. Ugh. How you hate when men compare you to food. It's always your caramel skin, your cherry lips, your golden eyes. Can they get more unoriginal?

You beg to the skies for fortitude. This alliance is important, you remind yourself. Qoren needs them, Dorne needs them. They grow more fruit than you could ever hope for.

As it often happens, your prayers are heeded in a way you could not have expected.

“Princess.” A guard suddenly sprints into the room. “There is a situation at the gates. Prince Qoren needs you.”

You spring up from your seat so fast, one might think there were needles on your cushion.

“I apologize, my King. The berries were lovely. Perhaps you could send some more? For the people?”

“Oh, I understand.” The King gives a jovial laugh. “Duty calls and all. You are right, I shall send you…”

“Good.” You cut him off, and walk out of the parlor. As you start to reach the gates, you slow down your walk. You can't have Qoren thinking you rushed to his side, after all.

“Have you developed some sort of mind reading ability?” Qoren turns at your words. He is facing the gates, right in the middle of the watchtower. It's not an actual watchtower, but rather a ledge on one of your lower walls, right aside to the actual tower. Its slightly off center position allows for a better view of the gates, despite not being very high.

“What's that supposed to mean?” He asks, reclining precariously. Your stomach turns. This is a recurring occurrence, Qoren watching from places he is not supposed to. You often fear he will fall to his death, yet he has yet to even slip. He is noisy enough to not care about the dangers of the world.

“You knew I needed an out, I gather.” You keep your tone flat. While you enjoyed being his right hand, you disliked that so many of your allies thought flirting was the way to do business.

“I didn't. Come here and take a look.” Qoren sounds uninterested in your grievances, which is highly unusual for him. Whatever he is looking at must be fascinating. You start climbing the steps, aided by the guard that led you here. You try to do so gracefully, but it's daunting in a dress as the one you wear.

“How did you even get up here?” You huff, crouching on the ledge before slowly starting to stand.

“Invaders.” Qoren says, unbothered. You nearly fall off, shrieking. The guard pushes you upright again.

“At ease, Princess. We got you.” He says. “Look closer.”

So you do. You narrow your eyes at the horizon, and what you can see of the gate. You can barely make out a giant red blur. A dragon, perhaps? One you already know, by the eerie calm he is sporting.

You only know one dragon. It happens to be red.

“What did you do to that man?” Qoren laughs. Your mouth opens and closes. It has been almost two moons since you departed from the Stepstones, half of the gold you had originally given to the Iron Throne back with you.

You had gone on with your life. Taken a few lovers, here and there. Ate good food. Pawned off resources for alliances. You know, the typical. Daemon Targaryen, though, clearly has not. Because he now stands at the gates of Sunspear, dragon in tow.

“Nothing. Nothing, I swear.” You reply to Qoren, still open-mouthed. “Is he trying to declare war?”

Qoren laughs at you, poking you in the ribs. You squirm away, before remembering you are standing on a ledge. You slap his arm.

“Don't do that! We could fall!”

“The only falling being done here is that dragon prince for you, dear sister.”

“Huh?” You frown, confused. What is he on about? Despite your desire to bed Daemon, you had walked away from the meeting with the certainty that he was not interested in you. You were not a maiden like the ones he chased, nor were you young, and you had done a good job of alienating him after threatening him with war. This could not be a mere visit, for you had parted on bad terms.

But Qoren doesn't answer. He only raises his voice slightly.

“Truss him up in chains!” The order is clearly not meant for you. “And place him on the Princess' solar.”

“What are you doing?” You ask, bewildered, as the guards hurry to carry out his order.

“I'll give you a chance to deal with him.” Qoren says, mysteriously. “I think he is about to ask for your hand.” And with an agile jump, he is off the ledge and getting down the wall. You scramble to follow.

“Qoren!” You scream, nearly falling off in your haste. He is too fast for you, already entering the palace. The guard steadies you again, and you gather your skirts and run after him, but it's too late. You do not know which direction he has turned. “Qoren, what do you mean by that? Have you spoken to him? He asked you for… Qoren, dammit!”

His cheery voice reaches your ears.

“Do try to get rid of him, alright? We can't have our people thinking we have been invaded.”

You chase after the sound, but he is gone. You could follow him to the throne room, but you decide for the more amusing option. No matter if Qoren is teasing about the marriage proposal, you decide to go and freshen up a bit. It will take a long time for the guards to subdue Daemon, and to drag him inside. Plenty of advice for you to change clothes.

Be it for declaring war, or rejecting a marriage proposal, you like to be well-dressed for the occasion. You take your time choosing your outfit, strapping a tiny dagger to your thigh.

Only when an hour has passed, you walk towards your solar. There are a few knights stationed outside, one of them being your Dayne companion. He approaches you cautiously.

“The Prince left instructions for us to enter at your call. One scream, Princess, and we will be in there before he can draw his sword.”

He sounds worried. It's actually kind of sweet.

“Don't worry. He won't hurt me.”

But despite your words, as soon as you enter your solar, you are grabbed harshly by the arm. You look up to find Daemon not only free from chains, but furious.

Perhaps the guards thought it would not be very diplomatic to chain him up. A shame. You jerk off his grip, and go serve yourself some wine. It's a very neat trick, one you have learned from the men in your life. One must let the other do all the nagging while pretending to be entirely innocent, so they sound insane. Often, it leads to the person reproaching you actually thinking they are going mad. You only use it when you feel particularly cruel.

"You took your time.” Daemon follows you, stomping and huffing. “I have been waiting for nearly an hour.”

“I was not decent. I had to change into my afternoon clothes.” You give a little twirl, enjoying the luxurious feel of the skirt against your body. You know it will only anger him further. “Do you like them?”

“You have some nerve.” Daemon scoffs. You offer him a goblet of wine, which he takes. “Do you know what men say of you?”

“Does a viper pay attention to the mumbling of worms?” Your voice is calm and sweet. In truth, you do pay a attention to what they say. Who doesn't? But Daemon doesn't need to know that for the game you are playing.

“You are hardly a viper.” His eyes narrow at you, in a flutter of pretty lashes and lilac. Good Gods, what right does he have to be so handsome. You hate him.

“I like to think I am one.” You drink from your wine, giving him a coy little look over the rim of your goblet.

“They say you are a witch. That you place your spell on them and have them dancing at your tune.” He complains, gruffly. So far, he seems very angered by you, which is fair considering the way you parted. What makes no sense is the fact that he has come this far to make his displeasure known.

“It's not my fault men are often led by their cocks.” You shrug. It's rather crass, but you are unbothered by it. If men are allowed to speak how they please, why shouldn't you?

“Perhaps not.” Daemon cocks his head. “But I do wish to ask something of you.”

“Oh?”

Daemon places his goblet down. He plucks yours from your fingers, all soft movements. He raises your hand to his lips, and kisses your palm. His eyes never leave yours.

“Remove your spell from me.”

You laugh. You stare at him as if he has two heads. You laugh some more.

"I'm serious. You have bewitched me. Ensnared me with your charms and feminine…” He lets go of your hand, angrily gesturing. The laughter dies in your throat. Daemon is not joking.

“I have what?” You repeat, confused. Now you are actually thinking him a madman.

“You have made it so I can't lie with another woman. I only get relief when I think of you. Remove your spell, or I shall…” And it's too good, too much of a joke not to laugh. You restrain yourself, knowing angering him more could be bad for your health.

“You shall what?” Despite your attempts, your amusement must show because Daemon grabs you by the shoulders and gives you a tiny shake. It's not enough to hurt you, but it startles you into seriousness.

“I have never wanted a woman as much as I want you.” His eyes do not show the emotion his words imply. While his face reflects need, Daemon has not drank nearly enough to have such a loose tongue. Something is amiss. “Let me have you. If you don't remove your spell, I need to have you.”

His eyes don't show need, but eagerness. He is trying to manipulate you. The thought of him implying that you must let him have you makes your blood boil. You are angered beyond belief. Has he really come all this way to make some half-assed marriage proposal, in the hopes of trapping you with him? Who does he think he is dealing with?

If you were another woman, more inexperienced, you would let this man manipulate you right into his bed. But you are not. You are old enough to know that lust can be cured with a few well-placed hot baths and enough time and distance. His excuses are a poor attempt. You almost prefer the other men's simpering.

“I am no witch, you fool. Now, out!” You point at the door.

Daemon straightens. He eyes you carefully.

“I need you.” He repeats. It's clearly a lie. You wonder what else is, too. Is it odd to feel flattered by him being so set on you, he is willing to manipulate you into marriage?

“You do not. There is nothing interesting here, go find a whore.” You cross your arms over your chest. Your traitorous heart seems to disagree. You don't want him to leave, says the heat in your cheeks. Not yet, answers the harsh ring of your pulse in your ears.

“I do.” Daemon steps closer. He seems slightly unsure and that is what gives him away. If you are trying to manipulate someone, you have to go all in. You can't hesitate because they call your bluff. His seduction techniques need serious work. “You have to let me have you.”

“I don't have to do anything.” You scowl at him, getting right up on his face. To you, it doesn't matter if you are shorter, you will put the fear of the gods in him or so the Seven help you. “And I do not believe a word you say. If you wanted me to fuck you, you could have merely asked. I do not appreciate you trying to manipulate me. I do not need to be coerced into it, I am no maiden.”

“And if I were to ask?” His nose brushes against yours, tenderly. Daemon's eyes have turned dark, his body nearly vibrating in excitement at your anger. You had heard Targaryens had queer customs, but had not expected him to be so aroused after getting yelled at.

“Too late, out!” You push your index finger into his chest, hard. Daemon smirks. He takes a step forward, forcing you to back off or get your finger crushed.

“You said I had to only ask for what I want.” He gets closer still, backing you against a wall. “No more games.”

“No more games.” You agree, a bit shakily. He noses along your temple, softly. You look up at him, all big, surprised eyes. How has he turned the whole situation into his favor so fast? And when, exactly, did you lose control?

“I want to know what is behind your eyes.” Daemon presses a soft kiss to your brow, then to your eye. You let go of the breath you are holding, eyes fluttering closed. Your lips tingle with the urge to be kissed, alight with the rush that comes from being seduced. But you do not intend to make it easy for him, no. He can't just expect you to submit just because he asks.

“No, thank you.” You duck beneath his arm, leaving behind your moment of weakness. He still tried to manipulate you, after all. He deserves a bit of suffering.

“What do you fear?” Daemon grabs your arm, pulling you towards him. He nuzzles your neck. “It certainly isn't modesty, you said so yourself. You are no blushing virgin.”

“I do not want to marry you.” You jerk free of his grip.

“Perhaps, you think I would enjoy you less. Or you fear I might not like what hides behind your eyes.” He kisses right behind your ear, softly hugging you to him. “The thoughts you have… The things you crave…” His hand traces an upward path, from your belly button to your collarbones. “To me, it only means you are already mine.”

“I'm not interested.” You say, but your whole body is saying yes. You just can't help it. His attention is overwhelming. His hands are gripping at your waist, your hips, everywhere. You shake against him as if you were an innocent still, and not a woman seasoned in the arts of love.

“I made you like this.” Daemon presses scorching hot kisses against your neck. You wonder if all Targaryens run as hot as this one. “Do you remember, little dornish girl?”

“You did not.” You pull away once more, and grab your wine again. You take a hearty sip. The memory you have obsessed over is one he has thought of too. Daemon had awoken something in you that rainy afternoon, and it's clear you had done the same to him.

“I taught you something, even if unwillingly. I always wondered, when I heard of your exploits, if you thought of me too.” And you have. Oh, how badly have you thought of running into him and bedding him, but you are not willing to admit it. You know if you look at him, you will give yourself away, so you keep stubbornly looking somewhere else.

Daemon chuckles.

“Let me see those eyes.” He gently grabs your jaw and lifts your head up. “Ah. So I was right.”

Furious at being caught, you place one of your hands on his hair and tug. Hard. Hard enough to force him to expose his neck.

“How do you feel about my eyes now?” You snarl.

“They are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Daemon's brows are pinched together, his back slightly arched. Your punishing grip on his hair is hurting him, and you are glad for it. Yet, his lips are parted as if experiencing the sweetest delights. “They are those of a woman in the throes of passion.”

“Do not test me.” You warn, forcing him to his knees. He goes willingly.

Daemon reaches up slowly, his much bigger hand curling around your wrist. He coaxes you to let go, softly massaging.

“I can taste the arousal cursing through your blood, Princess.” He pulls you into him, until both of you are sprawled out on the floor. “I see how your chest heaves, how your breath is getting heavier, how your lips plump… You are excited.”

“So what if I am?” You huff. It's all cornered animal. You cannot deny it any longer, you want him too badly for it.

“It means you and me… We are the same.” And he finally kisses you. His mouth meets yours in a hungry kiss, into which you pour all your frustration. But Daemon coaxes you to go slower, to kiss more passionately instead of hurriedly.

“I want you.” He says, when you part. His forehead rests against yours. “Let me keep you. Be mine. A woman as bloodthirsty as you cannot stay alone forever.” As he lays you down on the floor, as he gets on top of you and his hands pin yours down. “Let me keep you.”

And this time, you say yes.

May I ask, what are each of the yokai harems love languages?

Featuring the six demons and their ways of showing love!Content: gender neutral reader, fluff

[Main Story] | [Character Guide] | [More Headcanons]

Murasaki will mostly show his love through acts of service. He may seem standoffish and cold, but he will always take care of you. If you get sick, he’ll huff and puff about humans being weak and pathetic, all while spoon feeding you some intricate soup he carefully cooked for hours to make sure you get back on your feet; then he'll adjust your pillow with a frustrated sigh, and occasionally check that you’re properly tucked in (with a frown).

In return, I think he’d greatly appreciate words of affirmation. He’d never show it, but he will absolutely blush to himself hours later because you brought up how helpful or smart he is. W-well, obviously. Who else is going to look after you as well as him? Hmph.

Kiritsubo is all about physical touch. He loves feeling your warmth and hearing your heartbeat, to the point you sometimes have to physically remove him off of you. Forget asking for a jacket if it’s cold, he’ll just attach himself to you.

Besides returning his affections, he will absolutely adore the occasional praise. Watch him power up in real time just because you told him he’s doing a good job. He’ll turn to you in the middle of the fight just to ask, “did you really mean it?”, and then continue slaying his foes with a goofy smile on his face. You really did mean it, huh.

Suma enjoys hanging out with you. In fact, it's the highlight of his day. There's nothing better than returning from his training and seeing your little human face. Even better if you happened to join him for a quick practice. Additionally, he's a very touchy demon, but he is painfully aware of the colossal difference in strength and size. Just one brief moment of him getting too comfortable, and you may end up with a broken bone. Sorry, he was really looking forward to that hug.

Unlike the other yokai, Suma doesn't care much for praise. On the other hand, he'll be extremely grateful if you're the one initiating intimacy. This way he doesn't have to worry about accidentally hurting you, and - something he'd never openly admit - he finds your struggles quite endearing. Having to stand on your toes to reach for a mere hug, holding his finger with your entire hand...precious.

Yuugiri has two ways of showing he cares: physical touch and words of affirmation. He's painfully observant and thus particularly skilled at saying the right thing. If you're having a bad day, he will immediately know the cause of your troubles. Within moments, he'll have you on his lap, stroking your hair and soothing you with compliments. "Of course I'm right, (Y/N). No one knows you better than me."

When it comes to himself - you guessed it - Yuugiri will never say no to some praise. Normally he's rather indifferent to sweet words, finding them plain and boring. Anyone else complimenting his looks in ample detail, and he'll grimace in irritation. But it's enough for you to casually remark his kimono has a nice pattern, and he'll be twirling his hair like a maiden all day long. "My, you think so? Maybe I should wear this style more often, huh?"

Sekiya does his best to be useful: bringing you a cup of tea after a long day of exorcising spirits, or massaging your shoulders to release some tension. You sometimes have to remind the anxious demon that he doesn't need to be a servant to earn your affections. Ideally, there would be a lot of physical touch involved, but he often hesitates, clouded by the fear of annoying you too much.

Therefore, any kind of intimate gesture is enough to get his tail wagging. Pair it up with a little praise, and he'll be dizzy with delight. Sekiya loves being acknowledged by you. He'd probably risk his life in a heartbeat just for a headpat from his one and only Master. The poor yokai worships the ground you walk on.

Sakaki loves spending quality time with you, especially if it’s away from everyone else. Whether you’re painting together, or taking a quiet stroll through some graveyard, know he will be having a blast - despite his gloomy expression. Additionally, he enjoys bringing you little gifts that remind him of you. Although his tokens of adoration can be a little…unconventional. Last time it was a polished rodent skull he found in the forest, because it reminded him of your fragile, yet eternal bond.

One quick way to soften him up is by praising his art and poetry; he will immediately crumble into theatrical confessions, declaring that no one else truly understands him like you do. You're his forever muse, his reason to await the next coming day.

I would give so much to have just one normal, everyday conversation I could reference between Cazador and the spawn.

(More Caz thoughts under the cut 😮‍💨 scapegoat & golden child implications)

I feel like there has to have been some interaction beside "yes master/no master" etc because clearly he took the time to tell the other spawn about the Black Mass, and they believed him. Act 1 Astarion mentions how Cazador "gives hope til the last moment" which implies there were moments where he had hope until he'd been burned one too many times. Plus, all of Caz's lines about the type of person Astarion is, his terrible jokes and how it's punishment enough having known him for 200 years... it's a brutal zinger that has to come from personal experience. It wouldn't be funny if you didn't feel the weight of how long those two have known one another.

Considering Caz' obsession with Astarion and how Astarion seems to get the worst torture of his siblings, I see him more and more as the scapegoat in a toxic family. I wonder if there were moments of levity, where Cazador did invite discussion or talk from his spawn, giving the impression that there was some loosening of restrictions, or just enough where making a joke in hopes of amusing him would seem like a good idea - only to backfire horribly, with Astarion held to an impossible standard he couldn't predict while his siblings get away with worse transgressions. They all think the worst of him.

Petras genuinely believes Cazador will set him free, that all the torture he endured was somehow worth it and will lead to his freedom. Petras is also an idiot, but even idiots learn unthinking resentment and hate if beaten long enough. We know Petras at least gets to eat dogs sometimes, which... aren't allowed in Baldur's Gate.... (does Caz smuggle them in?? Does Dufay need to source some dogs for the spawn Christmas presents, while Astarion gets rats every year? Does Caz just tell him "oh go get yourself something nice next time you're out and about?" Do they go to Wyrm's Crossing together sometimes as a fun bonding activity, like when your father hits you one day but takes you out to ice cream the next????)

Astarion just seems so much more jaded and angry than the other spawn. A lot of that does come down to being the one who got away, who had it the worst and now feels bad about not being the lightning rod that unintentionally protects the others, who can now see just how fucked up everything was now that he's had space to think - while the other spawn are still in the thick of it, and probably aren't investing any thought at all into if Cazador is being truthful or not. There's no point. Whatever happens, happens.

I just have this nagging feeling that there has to be some positivity sometimes. If it was all awful, all the time, there comes a point where you stop working for it. There needs to be a moment of affection, the idea that things could be better all the time if you just did this one little thing better - going back to the ice cream example (lol), I wonder if Caz takes different spawn to do different things. Maybe Yousen's really good at Chess. Maybe he and Petras go bowling

Ok ridiculous example (Cazador clearly does not leave the house - but maybe he does, as Astarion feels the need to ask Dalyria where he is in Act 3? So maybe he does leave sometimes....) but the scapegoat/golden child dichotomy means there must be some positivity, some perks for the golden children. Petras gets better snacks, Leon works hard for the fancy room and gets to keep his daughter alive - maybe that's all there is, but I need to know how they all interact. Cazador has human servants, he's got Chamberlain Dufay and deals with the werewolves and clearly everyone's terrified of him and expects the worst - the rumors are nasty enough that Gale has heard of him - but he keeps a journal about the tortures he inflicts on his spawn. That feels, to me, like keeping score, doing enough to keep them terrified and busy but not so much that they give up all will to live in pure dedication of murdering him. Hence, like an abusive parent you still somehow love (and hey, it could be a lot worse, look at your brother after all as an example on what not to be) - there must be some positivity to hold on to.

Just enough that everyone besides Astarion believes him when he says he will set them free, enough that you need to pass a persuasion check, but also little enough that there's no real loyalty.

So yeah, maybe Cazador and Petras go on trips to Wyrm's Crossing together so he can get a dog to snack on. Idk man 🤷‍♀️ It's a lot more likely that Caz just says something awful about Astarion and lets them all rag on him for his amusement for a few moments here and there, and that moment of levity is enough to inspire some feelings of normalcy, but tbh I have zero clue what Cazador does all day and I'm obsessed with terrible slice-of-life scenarios.

Teen wolf - Alpha needs his pack Part 2.

Hey, y'all already know who we are right? We're like two of the most popular guys at school. Or maybe the coolest. Or... ok forget I said that. We are just bestfriends, by day we do normal shirt together by some nights Scott is doing his wolf stuff and I try to help out as much as I can.

But recently sometihng has changed. Scott started to act more dominant. We spoke less and less. He is so focused on the pack and the dangers that might come, but that's not how Scott usually is. Also, what happened to Theo? He is always ten steps behind Scott like some sort of a servant and he even keeps looking at me. But not with his self-centered I AM BETTER THAN YOU look, but now he looks like he wants to tell me sometihng, like he is being punished. I'll try to talk to him, since Scott is distancing himself from me now. HE EVEN GOT A TATTOO. Without me! We were talking getting one and he didn't wait for me. Ok, maybe my dad would be against it, but I would resist. Maybe, for a while. Ok, I wouldn't dare, but you know. He could have said something.

I think I was getting really desperate. My best friend is not talking to me, everyone else would think the way that I do. I knew If I were in his pack he couldn't ignore me. But if my dad found out I was bitten someday, he would flip. Or maybe I would too. The first transformation must be horrible. Which is why I contacted one witch. She is not evil, but doesn't work for free. And I still didn't have an idea how to get Scott to talk to me, but she would know what to do. Wouldn't she?

We met up in the forest. She brough a box with her with all sorts of potions and equipment. She was a middle aged, very beautiful woman, nice hair, leather jacket.

"Hey. You're not the witch from Snow White I was expecting."

"Money" she said annoyed after my joke

I handed her the money. And started nervously: "Haha, sorry about that. I just get nervous handling illegal stuff in the dark with strangers. Not like I would do that, like ever. Not like drugs or anything. I don't do drugs..."

"You talk too much." She handed me a small vial of liquid. As I observed the vial, she touched my hand. "Do you even know, there's some magic in you? Are you so blind to everything around you, you don't even see whats in you?"

"I am a wizard?"

"No. You have some magic, but you're weak." she started packing her things and getting ready to leave.

"Wait, you didn't tell me what to do."

"Drink it to get close to who you want." she said mysteriously.

What does that even mean? I drank the whole vial and she just smiled at me. I hope that's a good sign. A smile from a witch. Sure

Suddenly a noise echoed through the forrest. That sounded like a howl. The witch was already running away from me.

In a minute Derek appeared behind me. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I was really surprised to see him, but also not. The wolves always protect the Beacon Hills so if there was a creature tresspassing, they would know. I tried to sound confident. "Well I could be asking you the same thing"

"Do you even know that the Dread doctors are in Beacon Hills?! Has no one told you they pose a threat, Stiles?!? They want to get to Scott and you are parading in a forrest doing god knows what."

"I was just... on a midnight walk. It's very healthy actually. You should try sometimes. But I guess you run a lot around the town during the night. Right. Anyway..."

"Stiles, shut the fuck up and let's go."

He touched my arm and then my whole world flipped. It must have happened really fast, but for us it felt like ages. I even think I saw Derek's aura? soul? I don't know. But those things switched places in our bodies. They positioned themself and after that I opened my eyes again.

I saw myself. Myself from Derek's eyes. As I looked down I saw Derek's muscles. Oh man, he's gonna kill me now.

"Stiles?!?" the expression of my face changed from my usual friendly approach to the one I might have had maybe the last time playing a video game. I didn't even know my face could do this.

"Yesss?" whoa. Did that vibrating manly voice just come out of me? That's so hot. I have to calm down before Derek notices I am not that mad about the situation as he is.

"What exactly have you been doing here? And I need you to tell me everything." haha. My body looks so funny when he's trying to look angry.

I told him how I felt about Scott, how the witch took the money and gave me the vial and how I drank it.

He laughed of frustration. "You fuckin' idiot. Don't you get it?"

"Get what?"

"The Dread Doctors were planning to swap you and Scott. You were suppose to go meet him after this, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Well of course. Our little stiles feels intimidated by Scott new ball drop and wants to be close, just to endanger the whole town in doing so. What would you do if you swapped with him? Would you manage being the Alpha? HUH? No, right. Didn't think so."

"Sorry, this wasn't the plan."

"Oh I know it wasn't. And it sure wasn't my plan to spend the evening fucking myself."

"WHAT?! WHAT do you mean?! Why should I.... YOU...WHAT?"

"Every magical thing has a twist. And maybe from every cheesy freaky friday movie you watch, you might understand, that the people that swap have to get close somehow, make up. They always have to 'learn a lesson', 'try to walk in each others shoes', but they all take the long way. The fastest way to swap is to know how the other one FEELS."

"Derek, I... I don't know if I want this."

"Well I sure as don't want this kid, but we don't have a choice now, do we? Now, get on your knees. I got places to be."

He came close to me and started unzipping my jeans.

"Hey that's my dick!"

"No, it's mine now. And if you don't want it to be like this forever, which I really don't, then SUCK IT!"

I have to say, that seeing my own body being so dominant was in some ways really hot. I lowered myself.

"I have never seen it from this angle. It looks really nice."

"Stiles. SUCK IT!"

I didn't want to bee yelled at anymore, but Derek's body seemed to react to it slightly. I liked the shaft first, grabbing the lower part of my dick and positioned my mouth over it. My beard over my lips slightly scratching the head of my dick seemed to cause sensation to him. I pushed the dick more and more. Damn, almost no gag reflex. Convenient. My dick is real nice I gotta say. Striaght, slightly hairy, nice balls. It's not one of the biggest out there, but it's not bad in the mouth.

I accelerated. He started moaning. I used my right hand to jerk the lower half and blow the top. I think I'm getting good at this. Maybe cause Derek now put his hand in my hair to hold onto something.

"So you like it huh?"

"DON'T STOP!"

I got back to it, accelerating even more until streams of cum released into my mouth. I swallowed.

"So? When do you think we're gonna swap?" I asked him

He hyperventilated from the orgasm. "I... I thought this would work actually."

"Well maybe we gotta fuck for real. Let's go to my place. My dad's on duty now.

We entered my room. I could see the post nut clarity in his eyes. Post nut clarity and desperation. Nothing I haven't seen before on my own face.

"Ok, Derek. The lube is in the drawers. There is a completely new one. I haven't had a chance to use it. Guess I still won't be the first one using it. Hahah."

"What do you mean?"

"You just came. My body isn't used to cum two times a in an hour, So if you can't do the math, I'll do it for you."

"We'll wait until your body's dick gets hard." he said indifferently

A wave of anger swept over me

"Listen here, Derek. You suggested this and I followed. Now it's your turn to obey and do what I tell you. You don't want to be stuck like this and these are your methods. So we're gonna fuck. And I will be on top. Understand?"

He just nodded. I could see the fear in his eyes. But also excitement. And what I really didn't expect a tent formed in his jeans. That little fucker likes to be dominated. He's just hiding it behind this facade.

I was horny, hell yeah I was. And I also wanted to enjoy being this buff for just a few minutes. I did some pull ups. It went so easily. His body is so amazing. Maybe I should hit the gym after we go back.

Derek just sat shirtless on the bed, watching me lift myself up and down.

I got near him. The sweat drops rolling over my muscles. I took his hand and positioned it on my belt. He unbuckled it. SHIIIT this dick is huge. No wonder when Derek is such a masculine man.

"SUCK IT!" I said just as he said before. Only now, my voice was more manlier than his. He obeyed me, he wanted me to feel good and ge was doing such a great job. I thrusted my hips into his mouth as he was sucking. He choked many time. My body's gag reflex made it worse for him. Take that, that's for before

I took off my pants and he took off his. He turned around and got in position for me to enter him. I took the lube, put some on my hand, then his ass. Then on my new dick. Fuck, it's my first time jerking his dick. And it feels so good. I don't think I want to swap. But if I get my hands on the vial, I could swap with anyone. It would be cool to know what it's like to be Theo. He has a beautiful body.

My mind got back from daydreaming to fucking again. My hard pulsating dick in my hand ready over my hairy ass. I pushed, slowly, gently. I waited for him to get used to it. He moaned like a little bitch. While I waited for him to enjoy the pain I grabbed his dick. He was just as hard as I was. I took my other hand and grabbed him under his neck and took him close to me. My other hand still on his dick, jerking him, my own dick thrusting into him. He moaned. I kissed his neck and bit him a bit. I could feel my wolf teeth come out. But no, not the time

I accelerated. Thrusting more into him and jerking him twice as before. He wasn't moaninf, he was screaming out of pleasure now. And then it hit. Both of us. Be came at the same time. I came into him and ha came all over my bed. We panted, my dick still inside of him slowly getting flacid.

I pulled out. Laying myself down and he did so next to me on the bed.

"Well, that didn't work."

We just looked at each other, both wondering what we were gonna do.

But hey, atleast I get to be part of the pack with Scott now.

A story from inbox that skipped a few others: Maybe a second part of the new alpha where stiles hires some witch to make him and derek swap bodies in order to improve the pack. Maybe even derek had a kink with being smaller and loves the new reality.

Sorry for taking so long, but don't worry. Your story is coming

Part 1:

Part 3: