#i promise he's not being medievally tortured.....
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@canisalbus i truly believe that the autism steam roller would fix machete
#my art#canisalbus#furry#i love drawing his stupid shoes#i promise he's not being medievally tortured.....
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Promised Protector
Sypnosis - When a particularly pushy Araj begins to make Astarion revert to a past self that he had been trying so desperately to grow from, it leaves you to step in. It leaves Astarion with a small realization -- you did care for him, really truly cared for him.
Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, mentions of abuse (physical and sexual), Araj being an ass, slightly OOC Astarion
Word Count - 1.8k
A/N - Trying my hand at BG3 fanfiction. I have yet to actually play the game, so I'm going purely based off of the playthroughs of others and random clips that I've found sprinkled around YouTube. I do plan to write more for this little vampiric shit, so y'all can leave requests for him as well!
“Must we be here darling? I’m not rather fond of dungeons with … medieval torture devices.”
You bite back the breathy chuckle in your throat as you continue forward, eyes expertly searching your surroundings to ensure that no creature in the dark would ambush you or Astarion.
“For a creature that usually prefers the dark, you’re quite the complainer,” you bite back, tilting your head to cast a glance at the vampire over your shoulder. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shooting you a warning glare – one that you laugh off.
“And for a creature as clumsy as yourself, you’re doing quite well in avoiding any potential traps.” Astarion’s eyebrow raises as you now shoot him a glare. His shoulders rise and fall in a nonchalant shrug as he moves to walk in sync with you, scarlet eyes scanning his surroundings before they allow themselves to return to you.
“I am not clumsy. It was one time,” you roll your eyes, continuing forward and clenching your jaw as Astarion dares to chuckle at your side. “Rich coming from the one who threw a tantrum even after I revived him.”
“Darling, need I remind you that you dropped an entire building on my head?” Astarion whips his head to the side to face you, his eyes narrowed now in a pointed glare that only brings a wide smile to your face. In any other situation, he too would have smiled simply at the sight of your own, but your revealed teeth only make his chest twist in faux anger.
“And need I remind you that it was an accident?”
“In what world is dropping a building on someone an accident?” Astarion murmurs under his breath, stopping when you do. Your eyes flicker to a figure standing just a few feet in front of you – a drow.
She turns as your footsteps and Astarion’s become more audible, curiosity painting itself onto your face as you both approach. Her eyebrows raise, and you’re not sure if her expression is one of intrigue.
“Hello,” you say politely, bowing your head in greeting as the drow eyes you curiously, irises raking over the entirety of your figure before they curiously flicker to peer at Astarion.
“Araj Obladra, a pleasure,” the drow returns just as politely as you, her head dipping in the same bow that you had offered her. “How nice it is to stand in the presence of a True Soul … and her paled companion.”
Astarion’s eyes roll at the nickname, you catch it just out of the corner of your eye. But you choose to ignore it for the sake of not wanting to stir up any unnecessary drama – you had come to Araj for a reason, after all.
“I’ve traveled to inquire about your services if you’re willing to provide them,” you explain, already noticing a glint in Araj’s eye. You’re not quite sure what expression it’s meant to convey, but from the way that she shifts from one foot to another, your gut tells you that it may not be the most positive.
Another thing you notice … how her gaze continuously flickers to Astarion.
“But of course,” Araj replies without hesitation, angling her body so that it faces Astarion rather than you. Your eyes narrow, brows momentarily pinching together. Just what was she playing at?
“You seem … interested in my pale friend here,” you think aloud, immediately wishing that you could swallow your words the moment that you register both Astarion and Araj’s reactions.
“It is not every day that one encounters a vampire spawn,” Araj notes, the term bringing a disgusting taste to Astarion’s tongue. His nose scrunches in that same disgust, and for a moment, a flicker of anger dares to flare up within the depths of your chest. “After all, in exchange for blood, I craft potions.”
A hum rumbles in your throat, though you say nothing. Araj continues, choosing to ignore the expression you wear – the anger that you so clearly display.
“All I truly need is a single drop, and then whatever potion you require … well, I can brew it,” she explains, finally moving from where she stands to circle you and Astarion. It reminds you of a predatory lion, one with slit-like pupils that eyes its prey before promptly pouncing on it.
“And with the rest of it?” you prompt with a raise of your eyebrow. “My blood, I mean.”
“I shall keep it for myself … other potions need to be crafted, as you well know.”
She steps forward, extending her hand and holding her palm out to you. For a moment, you simply think, pondering whether or not you should even trust the drow – especially considering how her eyes still dared to flicker to Astarion. Why was she so interested in him?
You can sense Astarion’s worry from over your shoulder, the feeling rippling off of him like rolling ocean waves. But even with it, you lay your palm over Araj’s.
“There, finished,” Araj says, already stepping back from you the moment that your skin comes into contact with her own. Her eyes, once again, meet Astarion’s.
“And now wh—“
Araj’s attention turns completely now to Astarion, who momentarily falters underneath her gaze. His worry for you morphs silently into disgust directed at the drow.
“There’s still much to discuss,” Araj comments, a smirk just barely pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Such as your paled companion.”
Astarion glances at you, and in return, he’s met with an expression of suppressed anger and jealousy — that would be a conversation for later, he dictates.
“He’s a vampire, is he not? Or vampire spawn?” Araj’s eyes wander over Astarion, drifting down his entire body and ignoring the way that his eyes narrow in a glare at her. She turns then back to you, once again choosing to ignore the fury that glints in the depths of your eyes.
“He belongs to you, am I correct?”
If you weren’t angry before, you were now. Your eyes flicker to Astarion, his expression a mixture of hurt and shock – it was one that you had never seen him wear before, and with the way it made your heart positively crack, you never wanted to see it again.
“The last I checked, he was his own person,” you turn to Araj angrily, “he does not belong to anyone.”
Araj bites back the chuckle that threatens to crawl up her throat, lifting a hand in front of her mouth as she laughs breathily into the skin of her palm. Your teeth grind against each other, jaw setting into place as the drow regains herself.
“Oh, you were serious?” Her eyebrow lifts, the sight of it taking everything in you to not lunge at her and promptly wedge the blade of your dagger into the skin of her neck. “It’s adorable really … if he truly believes you, that is.”
Astarion swears he could hear one of your teeth chip with how roughly you set your jaw into place. His eyes wander down to your hands, taking note of how they clench into white-knuckled fists. Your fingers itch towards the blade in its holster, but you fight the urge to remove it.
“Does your spawn have a name?” Araj shifts her attention back to Astarion, eyeing him once again. He opens his mouth to speak, but with a speed that feels almost inhuman, you answer for him.
“His name is Astarion, and if you dare to call him my spawn again, I will surely–”
“Now, now darling!” Astarion’s hand closes around your mouth, palm pressing to your lips as he flashes you a too-sweet smile – hoping to whatever God was above him that you wouldn’t turn your anger onto him and plunge a dagger between his eyebrows. “Let’s be civil, yes?”
You bite back the angered insult that bubbles up in your chest, swallowing your words and settling back on your feet. Astarion nods, slowly removing his hand from your mouth before he turns to Araj.
“It’s been quite the dream of mine, being bit by a vampire … spawn or the like,” Araj explains, her tone taking on an almost dream-like lull. You can already feel the bile rising in your throat.
And it seems that Astarion shares your sentiment, what with the way that his eyebrows raised and his lips curled in that adorable little scowl.
“I’ll have to decline,” Astarion is quick to answer, shaking his head and taking a tentative step away from Araj, almost as if he’s trying to hide his body behind your own. You allow it, going so far as to then sidestep him and stand protectively in front of him – an action that he smiles gently at.
“I’ll compensate–”
“He said no, thank you very much,” you butt in, glaring down your nose at the overbearing drow. She falters on her feet for a moment, but just as quickly, she recollects herself. “We’ll be going now.”
You turn on your heel, reaching swiftly for Astarion’s hand before promptly leaving – not once sparing a glance to the disappointed drow over your shoulder.
< … >
“Darling?” Astarion hesitantly lifts the flap of your tent, ducking beneath it and entering. You hum from where you sit at your desk, tilting your head slightly to show your acknowledgment. “Are you alright? Your lively presence was missed. You left me to deal with … them … on my own.”
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you turn in your seat to look at Astarion. At the sight of your face, he falters, his expression softening.
“You’re still upset over that vile drow, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am Astarion!” you rise from your place, throwing your hands up. He flinches, not having expected a violent outburst from you.
“She … she thought that I had ownership of you! All because of what, the fact that you’re a spawn and not a vampire? The nerve of some creatures disgusts me! I mean honestly–!”
“Darling.”
You pause, head lifting so that your gaze finally meets Astarion’s awaiting gaze. His eyes are soft as they gaze at you, lips turned upward in a smile of equal softness. He approaches you, offering his hands to you – which you take without hesitation.
“I want you to know that I … appreciate what you did for me today,” Astarion admits quietly, speaking low enough that you could barely hear him. “It has been many years since I was able to choose my own.”
You soften, squeezing at his hands. “Astarion, you deserve to have your own voice. Nobody should be able to control what you do besides … well … you.”
He draws you closer to his chest, arms locking around your waist as his face buries itself into your hair. You chuckle lightly, returning his embrace and laying your face against his shoulder.
For 200 years, Astarion had never known the sound of his own voice.
But now?
Now he knew the sound of it, and he knew that it mattered.
#colonelarr0w#astarion x reader#astarion fanfiction#astarion acunin x reader#astarion acunin#bg3#bg3 x reader#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate 3 x reader#astarion x tav#astarion bg3
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A Danish Werewolf in The City
The First Taste - part 2
Note: life's full of surprises, huh? once again, this fic was getting out of hand, so I had to split it up once more and this chapter is now 3 parts long. And as promised, the ending & smut part of it will be out tomorrow. For now, I hope you enjoy this! Special thanks to @foxyanon for reading a tiny part as a way of helping me out.
previous chapters: part 1 - part 2 - part 3.1
Pairing: werewolf!Sihtric x you (f)
Warnings: 18+, angst/horror fic.
Wordcount: 2,7k
Masterlist
After his relentless vampire killing spree, which had lasted up to several months, Sihtric realised he needed to calm down before accidentally sparking the interest of werewolf hunters or other observing folk around.
He had earned quite some new scars during his slaughters, some of which were hard to hide on a warm summer day. And the last thing Sihtric wanted was having to move towns because his beast identity had been discovered. He knew he'd be chased away, or worse, being hunted down and tortured before being brutally murdered. And the people would most likely make a fancy rug out of his fur and use his decapitated wolf's head as a laughingstock to scare children with. These weren't medieval times, but once a creature was discovered living amongst regular humans, people tended to slip into a state of primaeval panic. So he began to lay low as the Moon cycle continued, and that's when he made a list of everything he'd need to restore the shed.
His shed was ordinary on the outside, like any other backyard shed around his neighbourhood, but the inside of it was something else. Inside, the wooden walls of which the shed was made, were hidden behind a firm layer of steel that would be impossible to break out of and, most importantly, were sound proof. Furthermore, the cabin was completely empty inside, apart from a chair in the middle which resembled those used as electric chairs in prisons. The design had been picked on purpose, as he could be easily restrained in it with metal chains, which a pack member would always help him with, and because his monthly involuntary transformation felt like something he should be punished for.
As Sihtric had his shifting under control, he usually didn't need to be fully restrained and mainly did it as a precaution every month, not wanting to become a killing machine. But after he had decided several Moons ago to rip off all the chains from the chair, floor and ceiling, to completely let his werewolf form go in order to slay those vampires while he was hurting, thus making the shed completely unusable for the sole purpose it had been built, he now felt that he needed to be fully chained up again to restore the balance inside of him. The full Moon made everyone act out, even humans and other animals, not just the werewolves, but it simply affected the latter more than the average breathing being. And since Sihtric did not want to become a target by hunters, townsfolk or any other creature of the night, he knew he had to be quick to fix up his enclosure. And as he only had three days left before he would already start to feel the effect of the waxing Moon, as she would be almost fully round, he headed to the hardware store.
Sihtric strolled through the store with a shopping cart, agitated by one of its wheels as it malfunctioned and abruptly brought the cart to an awkward halt every now and then with a loud squeak that hurt his ears and drew attention. He cursed under his breath as he fought with the cart while he searched for the materials he needed. The full Moon wasn't here yet, but Sihtric was already more sensitive than during the other moon phases, and he kicked the cart's wheel in his frustration when it blocked once again and caused him to bump into the cart. To his delight, he quickly found the aisle he was searching for, and he loaded the limp cart with several heavy metal chains, as well as the tools he needed to secure them again.
And it was then, when he wanted to struggle with the cart to the self checkout, that he suddenly froze as he caught a familiar scent closeby that made his heart skip several beats.
You gritted your teeth as you searched for a specific colour of paint. Months had passed since Sihtric had scratched up the paint job on the outside of your windowsill, and you couldn't bear to look at it anymore. It was horrible, the claw markings clearly visibly as they had left dark scratches on the white surface. The fact that those scratches were there was not even the worst part of it all. No, the worst of it was that you knew you had to repaint the entire outside part of your house after touching up the scratches, because it had been a while since you had applied the paint, and the white had turned a rather light grey overtime.
You internally cursed your werewolf ex-boyfriend as you roamed past the various shades of paint. It had been months, but you still loved Sihtric, and in truth you knew it was going to be hard to remove the last physical memory you had of him. To make matters worse, you finally spotted the paint you were looking for at the top shelf, which you couldn't possibly reach. You sighed, clearly annoyed, and looked around for an employee who could help you, but it seemed they were all on their lunch breaks. You groaned as you wanted to make your way back to the paint aisle, but stopped when you spotted a man who looked tall enough to reach that top shelf. He had his back turned to you as he seemed to stare down into his shopping cart, and you cleared your throat as you walked up to him.
'Excuse me,' you chuckled awkwardly, 'could you maybe help me-'
You immediately stopped talking when the man turned around, and it felt as if the ground beneath your feet crumbled away. You stopped breathing as you studied him, for he looked so different. The man was handsome, so very handsome, with his well kept goatee and interesting haircut; dark curls on one side while the other half was shaved. For a moment you figured it couldn't possibly be him, but those mismatched eyes were undoubtedly the same you had looked into various mornings.
'S… Sihtric?' you managed to breathe as your cheeks warmed up.
He stared at you, dead silent, while his Adam's apple bopped in his throat as he swallowed hard before he finally opened his mouth to speak after what felt like forever.
'I… I,' he stammered with a shaky voice, 'I'm sorry, you must have mistaken me for someone else.'
He quickly averted his eyes and turned on his heels, ready to push his cart and leave the store as fast as he could. But the cart stalled again as the limp wheel refused to cooperate, and forced him to suffer being around your presence a little longer. Your scent drove him mad, in every possible way, and he felt a mild panic inside of him. You were fast to grab his arm and stepped around to face him.
'Sihtric,' you said again, fully convinced this time as his voice had betrayed him too, 'please… I… I've been thinking of you,' you blurted out.
Your eyes darted over his face while he just stood there, nailed to the ground and clearly at war with himself, fighting urges inside of him. You took in his new look while he dared to bring his eyes back onto you, his new haircut was bold and strange, but you couldn't deny he made your heart beat just as fast as the first time you had met him.
'I've been thinking of you every day,' you said as you finally released his arm, 'have… have you been thinking of me?'
Sihtric looked down at his feet, then showed a quick pained and broken smile as he shrugged lightly.
'Of course,' he half mumbled and shyly rubbed his arm, 'of course I have. You're… you're all I think of, still.'
You smiled faintly and felt your cheeks heat up again. You stared at each other, unsure of what to do next. Part of you wanted to slap his face for telling you to get out of his life and break your heart, and the other part of you wanted to grab his face and kiss him, stumbling into the shelves and making out steamingly on the floor of the hardware store for everyone to see. But you did neither of those things.
'Where have you been?' you asked, breaking the long silence, 'I heard you quit at the vet a little while ago.'
'I didn't quit,' Sihtric said softly, 'I'm on temporary leave.'
'But why?'
'I just, I don't know. I had to take care of things.'
'I see,' you nodded, still confused by his vague answer, and then you looked into his cart, 'so, eh, renovating?'
'Something like that,' he chuckled faintly, 'what brings you here?'
'I need paint, but I can't reach it…'
Sihtric broke into a genuine smile and followed you to grab you the bucket of paint.
'Renovating?' he jested.
'Something like that,' you smiled, 'you left some… marks. I haven't gotten around to fix that up yet.'
'I'm sorry,' Sihtric said, immediately tormented again by the horrible night, and he sighed as a sense of panic crept up once more, 'well, look… I just… I-I have to go-'
'Sihtric, please,' you stopped him again, 'please. I'm worried about you. And I…,' you swallowed hard and half whispered, 'I miss you. I really fucking miss you.'
Sihtric stared at you, the tears glistened in his eyes as he sniffed and scratched his goatee in an attempt to hide his emotions.
'I miss you too,' he mumbled.
'Can we talk, please? Not here, not right now. But can we meet up somewhere later?'
Sihtric wasn't sure about your offer. He desperately wanted to talk to you and be close to you again, but he was afraid it would only make his unhealed wounds deeper as he still loved you with all his heart. You suggested to meet at a pub later that evening, but as you left the store with trembling hands, you still weren't sure if he was going to show up.
You waited outside the pub and hoped Sihtric would show, otherwise you'd look like a fool waiting at the door for twenty minutes already. The place was crowded inside, as were the streets, and suddenly your eye caught the Moon as she crept up the darkened sky when you looked up. You began to feel nervous, reminiscing over everything that had happened prior to your break-up, and you wondered if maybe it had been a mistake to try and see where you and Sihtric stood right now.
You would never deny that you were still in love with him, and had been all this time, despite the horrors and gruesome truths you had discovered about him and his being. If anything, you understand his werewolf identity more now after all the research you had done, and it even had gotten as far as sparking a new curiosity inside of you. But before you could disappear into your newfound interest, you were startled when Sihtric suddenly stood behind you and spoke softly in your ear.
'Caught you,' he chuckled softly with a hint of darkness.
But the mischief quickly fell off his face when you turned around, and he once again remembered what he had lost that night in the woods; you. You and that smile of yours, the one you flashed him now upon seeing him. The smile that made him weak instantly and made him want to cup your cheeks and nuzzle your nose softly in between peppering you with kisses all over. He'd do anything to be able to do that again. He'd try every other superstition that could potentially break his werewolf curse that he hadn't tried yet, no matter how gruesome, no matter the cost. If only he could have you again and love you like no other living being ever could.
'Hey,' you smiled, relieved, 'I wasn't sure if you were going to show.'
'Neither was I,' Sihtric confessed.
You noticed he avoided eye contact, and the sudden trembling of his lower lip betrayed the fact he was on the verge of tears.
'Well,' you broke the painful silence, 'can I… at least get a hug?'
Sihtric shrugged lightly and scrunched his nose as he sniffed, then held his arms open and invited you in his embrace. You wrapped your arms around him, allowing yourself to sink in his warm and strong arms which you had dreamt of nearly every night.
'I've missed your arms around me,' you murmured in his ear.
You fought your own tears now while you heard Sihtric sniffle quietly, and his grip suddenly tightened as his chest heaved up and down fast, as if a state of panic had captured him.
'I… I-,' he stammered with a shaky voice, 'I just can't breathe without you. It feels as if I can't breathe without you,' he almost wheezed, 'I… I need… I just need you.'
You tried to step back, wanting to look at him as you could sense he started to slip further into an abrupt form of panic, but you couldn't get out of his grip. A sudden low growl started to sound from deep down his throat, while his heavy breaths slowly changed into murmured grunts.
His head was spinning as the intensity of every sound, sight and smell around him grew stronger, slowly driving him mad as his ears were ringing. His clothes felt too tight, the street lanterns and pub signs were too bright and the people too loud. But even louder was the buzzing of his own blood in his ears, as well as the sound of your beating heart inside your chest, and he suddenly bared his teeth with a silent snarl as you managed to take a step back. You took his face while his hands found your waist, squeezing you firmly but not all unpleasant, and you forced eye contact as you spoke to him as soothingly as possibly.
'Sihtric? Sihtric listen to me. You need to calm down,' you said compassionately, but not without fright as his mismatched eyes occasionally glowed, 'just breathe. You can breathe, I promise. I'm here… I'm here, okay?' you said with a soft sob, 'I'm not going anywhere, you hear me?'
While Sihtric fought his urge to shift, as his emotions were almost unbearable and he just wanted to hide, you managed to gradually calm him down and suggested you'd go for a walk instead of a drink at the pub. You worried that any slight cause of frustration might tip Sihtric over the edge, thus shifting into a gigantic werewolf and tearing up the place as well as everyone in it, which was the absolute last thing you wanted. You took his hands and pulled him with you, out of the busy street and near the entrance of a quiet and dark alley where you sat down on a public bench that overlooked the river which ran through the darkened city.
Sihtric calmed down while his trembling hands held yours, and he finally dared to look at you again as he stopped fighting his tears.
'Pushing you away from me was the biggest mistake of my life,' he spoke softly, with a broken voice, 'I thought it would be better for you, but it's… and maybe it was, but for me-' he stopped and buried his face in his hands while he cried.
You wrapped your arms around his jerking shoulders, letting your tears run freely along with his, and you told him you understood why he had pushed you away and that walking out on him was your biggest regret too. You told him that after the split you had started researching his wolf being, and that you understood him so much better now and everything that came with it. Sihtric felt relieved to hear that it seemed you had accepted his darker side, but he dreaded telling you what he had been up to while you were broken up…
'Have you been with someone else?' he eventually asked as both your tears had dried.
'What?' you scoffed, 'oh, please. As if you couldn't smell.'
'I could,' Sihtric admitted with a chuckle, 'but have you?'
'I haven't,' you rolled your eyes with a soft smile, 'what about you?'
'Really?' he frowned and feigned offence.
'Look, I know your sex drive, Sihtric,' you shrugged, 'so I'm just asking.'
'Well, I haven't been with anyone else,' Sihtric sighed, 'I mean… no one wants to be with a monster, do they?'
You sat in silence for a long time, just staring out into the darkness together, until you took his hand again and said, 'It was a mistake to break up, wasn't it?'
taglist: @foxyanon @alexagirlie @sihtricsafin @neonhairspray @gemini-mama
@lexwolfhale @sigtryggrswifey @skyofficialxx @djarinsgirl27 @m-a-s-h-k-a
@verenahx @mrsarnasdelicious @diiickbrainn @little-diable @maii777
@urmomsgirlfriend1 @dixie-elocin @elle4404 @bubblyabs @ylvie50
@hb8301 @willowbrookesblog @apolloanddaphnis @jennifer0305
@carnationworld @justanother-sihtricgirlie @stark-head @reidsbookstore @thenameswinter99
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@solinarimoon @thatawkwardlittlefangirl
if you want to be added to/deleted from the taglist, message me 🖤
#i'd say this is a filler chapter but it's way too fcking long for that lmao#sihtric x reader#sihtric x you#sihtric kjartansson#the last kingdom#sihtric#tlk#sihtric fic#the last kingdom fic#werewolf fic#werewolf au#sihtric au#tlk au
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Afterparty Blues
Dieter Bravo/Fem!Reader
Words: 1,531
Summary: According to anyone else, this night should have been nothing but celebration for Dieter - he won an Oscar after all. But he couldn't help the way his mood tanked when he saw you dancing with someone else at the afterparty. It didn't matter though, you weren't his, and it was his fault in the first place.
Flower and meaning: yellow hyacinth || jealousy
this is my first work for the @yearofcreation2023 ! my theme is flowers, and i'm so excited for what this challenge will bring! i recently watched the bubble, and i wasn't originally going to write for dieter, i had a bit of an epiphany and decided to try my hand at writing him! this takes place pre-canon, and is angst with a happy ending :)
Year of Flowers Masterlist • Dieter Bravo Masterlist
They say the feeling of elation lasts for days, weeks even. Winning an Academy Award was a once in a lifetime experience for most actors, and this would mark the first time Dieter had won one. And for a while he did feel that way, stupidly thinking that there wasn’t anything in the entire world that could bring him down.
And then he saw you at the afterparty.
More specifically, he saw you dancing with someone else.
There were two types of jealousy in the world. There was the red-hot version of the emotion, that burned like fire in the stomach and enveloped one’s entire being until it was all they could think of as their hands curled into fists and they had to keep themselves from acting in a way that was unbecoming or impolite.
And then there was jealousy that was dark and gloomy gray, bringing down the mood of whoever experienced it, and making them want to do nothing but go to bed and shut out the entire world. It was wanting to cry but realizing that there were no tears left, and staring at the wall without focus or care for anything. This type of jealousy made a person feel like their limbs were being weighed down with dumbbells, along with a crushing feeling of existential dread.
Right now, Dieter was experiencing both of those at the same time, and it was brutal.
Maybe it was the heightened emotion he felt from winning (or the little bit of cocaine that he snorted between the ceremony and the afterparty), but he hated the feeling. Watching you smile and dance from across the room was almost equivalent to medieval torture for him, knowing that you wouldn’t want to talk to him if he went over and said hello. Because he fucked up your relationship, and it was one of the worst mistakes he had ever made.
It started out as a PR thing, it always did in this business. His agent called him up and practically threatened him to agree. He did, not knowing what kind of joy you would bring to his life.
You were also an actor, but mainly worked in TV while he focused on movies. However, you had landed a decent role in a big budget drama, and your agent wanted to generate a little more of a buzz around your name than you already had. They had reached out to several other agents asking for advice and ideas, and Dieter’s manager had responded, wanting to drum up press for his upcoming movie as well. Without the input of either you or him, it was decided that you would be in a fake relationship.
The beginning of it all had been fine. You were both a little wary of what you were being asked to do, but he enjoyed your company and you didn’t seem to hate him, so it could have been a lot worse. He made a promise to himself not to let things get real after the first time the two of you were photographed together, because he knew it would only make things more complicated.
But of course, that promise was doomed from the start. You spent more time together, planned outings where you could be seen and photographed holding hands, and managed to convince the rest of the world that you were one of Hollywood’s new “it couples.” And all the while, he found himself falling for you.
The two of you had been invited to the premier of another movie, some sci-fi thriller that everyone seemed to think might win big during awards season, and his agent wanted him to kick it up a notch. He complied, and after a few planned kisses on the red carpet, he knew that promise he made to himself was so far down the drain it was irretrievable.
You slept together that night too, camping out in a hotel room instead of attending the afterparty. Parts of his suit were strewn across the room the next morning when he woke up and your dress was in a pile on the floor, no doubt collecting wrinkles.
For a few weeks, the image that you presented to the world and reality were the same, and then everything started to crash and burn. You knew you would have to “break up” eventually, and soon it was written in the contracts between your agent and his.
But you believed that somehow things could work out between you and him. And he stupidly wanted to believe it too, but his agent had forbid him from keeping contact with you after the “split” was recorded and reported. He should have fought back, he should have admitted that he was in love with you right then and there, but he didn’t.
Instead, he pretended to be a commitment freak when you told him you wanted to continue seeing him, and he watched as the expression on your face went from love to disgust in seconds. He told you lies about only wanting to get in your pants, driving a stake not only through your heart but his at the exact same time. He watched as you walked away from him, and he knew he had fucked up big time.
Two months later, he fired that agent and hired another, but the damage to his relationship with you was already done, and he had to simply accept that.
You ran into each other at the bar of all places, both stepping up to order a drink at the exact same time. “Congratulations on your win tonight,” you told him, a smile on your face that Dieter knew was simply for politeness’ sake.
“Thank you,” he responded, the suit he was wearing suddenly feeling a little too warm and constricting. Trying to keep his nerves at bay, he spoke again. “I saw you got the lead in that new thriller coming out next year. Congratulations.”
You smile grew a bit bigger, and he could see your expression soften a little. “Thank you.”
Your drink was ready, and you turned to step away, but Dieter gently touched your hand to keep your attention. “Listen, I feel terrible about things went down between us. My agent was really overbearing and I took some stupid advice. I miss you, and even if you don’t want to give us another shot, I’d at least like to be friends.”
You were silent for a moment, clearly not expecting that to come out of his mouth. “I know about your agent,” you said quietly. “Mine was complaining about how annoying he was to work with, and she told me that he pressured you to have a ‘clean break’ from me. I don’t know if I’m looking for a relationship right now, but I’d like to be friends too.”
He nodded, a small smile spreading over his face. “Then friends it is.”
***
The next morning, he woke up alone in his hotel room, with nothing but a bad case of bed hair from the night before. He thought everything was completely fine, or at least he did until he grabbed his phone and checked his messages.
The first one he clicked on was from his agent, and the text read Is this real or should I start damage control?, followed by a link to a news article. Dieter stared in shock at the headline when it loaded on his phone.
Could It Finally Be Take Two For This Pair of Hollywood Exes?
Photos of the two of you together from last night sat right under the large type, along with a red carpet photo from when the two of you were “together.” The afterparty photos looked like they had come from the background of someone else’s instagram post, and he wondered who was the one who had accidentally captured the moment between you and him last night. Dieter swore to himself as he thought of you: what did you think of all this? He just hoped that you didn’t think he had done this on purpose, even though he should have known that cameras would be everywhere, he was just too caught up in the jealousy and then the hope you gave him after your conversation.
He backed out of the article and the text from his agent, not sure what to tell him. It was then that he noticed another new text, timestamped at 7:23 this morning. Your name stared back at him as he opened the thread.
I know what I said last night, but it seems we’re all over the internet. If you were serious about giving us another shot, I say we do it. Can’t be worse than our first relationship, right?
Suddenly, all his worry about the situation began to wash away. Immediately, he texted you back.
I was definitely serious.
Can I take you out to dinner this evening? I think we have some things to talk about.
He waited for you to text back a confirmation before calling his agent, and he was already thinking about where he wanted to take you for your first (real, or rather, not sponsored) date.
- the end -
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A Good Man | Part 8
Pairing: Finan x Ealdorman's Daughter!Reader
Summary: Finan returns from the north with news of Bebbanburg, news that worries y/n. The pair reunite in Aeglesburgh as preparations for battle at Tettenhall take place.
Warnings: SLOWBURN. MDNI18+ NSFW content below the cut. Unprotected PinV (I will not write about medieval contraception). Mentions of violence and death. If i've missed anything please let me know!
Wordcount:3.7k (i never intend for the parts to be so lengthy but a lot is going on.)
Part 1 | Part 9 | Other Works
Authors Notes: If something below the cut seems oddly fast just - there's a few time jumps and shit happens alright, man can't last for hours when it's been months without a single touch.
The soft light of morning sun streaming through budding trees cast golden streaks across your skin as you closed your eyes, face tilting upwards into the sky allowing the natural warmth to wash over you, taking a deep breath filling your lungs with the fresh crisp air hugging a shawl around your shoulders welcoming the spring. The laughter of Aelfwyn chasing a grumbling Stiorra through the dewy grasses littered with freshly bloomed tulips pulled you from the small moment of meditation and the crunch of wood chip alerted you to Lady Aethelflaed approaching.
“I won’t be here for the next few nights” She spoke quietly and you nodded knowing she was referencing a visit to Coccham, you looked to the floor fighting the envy that creeped into your bones. “If he has returned early I’ll be sure to send him this way” Giving a comforting rub to your shoulder she offered up a small reassuring smile.
“If he is already home and hasn’t thought to visit I can’t promise not to be vindictive.”
“We both know that not to be true y/n, you are soft on him.” You groaned in response turning on your heel to head back inside.
Aethelflaed was right, you were soft on him and the winter had been long and lonely without Finan. You remembered your sisters always talking of how happy they were for their husbands to go off to war or on campaigns as they liked the peace it brought them but you felt as if you were being tortured, mourning the loss of a man who wasn’t your husband and was still very much alive, or so you hoped.
You awoke earlier than usual the next morning staring up at the wooden beams lining the ceiling, hair dishevelled resembling something a bird might like to nest in and nightdress twisted uncomfortably around your hips and waist. Urging yourself to move you began readying yourself for the day starting with a wash and application of scented oil which you also used to attempt taming your long tresses. My Lady rang through your head as it so often did in a poor imitation of Finan’s melodic and sometimes soft voice, a quiet knock at your door dragged you back to reality.
Sable had come to inform you that Aethelflaed had returned earlier than expected and wishes to leave for Wessex as soon as possible so she can give some comfort to her mother and asked if you wanted to accompany her, your own choices were to either stay put sulking your way through the days as if you were a child or find some enjoyment from the new season in the form of travels.
You’d been in Winchester for all of one day when you stood in the room that King Alfred had once used to house his books and keep a chronicle of the times watching the space be taken apart by keepers at the palace hastily sweeping the books and pages into baskets as guards carried the shelves out and away. Time after time throughout your stay you had witnessed the treatment towards Lady Aelswith and how her mood soured with every new insult.
The next day you heard the familiar voice of Uhtred sitting in the hall with King Edward, Father Pyrlig and Lord Aethelhelm negotiating for men to retake Bebbanburg and your heart skipped. News of this sort meant that Finan had surely returned and would of accompanied Uhtred to Winchester, after seeking out Lady Aethelflaed at Uhtred’s presence she had placed her hands on your arms holding you still.
“Calm, this is the most life I’ve seen in you for weeks. Once I have spoken to Edward about the negotiation I will find a way for us to see them.” She smiled and you simply nodded trying to contain your need to find Finan.
Finan was walking through the nunnery with Uhtred, Osferth and Sihtric discussing options to get into Bebbanburg after being denied an army when Abbess Hild appeared calling for Uhtred.
“Thank you for offering your men to help clear the stables.”
“What?” Finan complained looking between the men as Uhtred walked off with Hild.
“Ladders.” Osferth spoke out tapping Finan’s chest adding another suggestion as a way to breach the walls, he looked to Sihtric with a blank face and they both turned away choosing to ignore the monks foolish idea.
In the stables Finan grumbled getting ready to use a manure fork with his back to the stalls opening
“Oh yeah this is just what I want to do, shovel shit.” He griped and Osferth cleared his throat standing up right opening his mouth to say something. “Ay arseling I’m not doing this alone.” The irishman scolded waving the fork at his friend.
“For a good christian boy you sure are using foul language in a holy place.”
His entire demeanour changed hearing your voice and turned dropping the fork seeing you stood with a smile playing on your lips and your hands folded in front of you, he tried to speak but only gawked as the sun glinted off a piece of silver on your index finger and he immediately recognised his ring. Osferth cleared his throat once more and gave Finan a shove forward ushering him towards you, stepping closer to meet him he placed his fingers under your chin angling your face up to his, the sun highlighted the gold in his eyes willing you to melt under his warm gaze there and then.
“Aren’t you going to say hello?” You quipped
“Hello.” He flashed you a grin leaning down for a kiss but you turned away
“Not here.” You grabbed his hand pulling him away from the stables to an old bricked up archway tucked out of the way from prying eyes.
“So, if my woman was here I wouldn’t have to do this either?” Sihtric sassed picking up the dropped fork getting a chuckle from Osferth.
Finan’s lips eagerly crashed onto yours in an instant with his thumbs stroking your jawline, you held him closer by his waist, finger tips brushing over the layers of his leather cuirass savouring every part of feeling his lips on yours and the rough pads of his fingers tracing your skin. You reluctantly broke away and leaned your forehead to his chest as worry washed over you.
“Finan, do not go.” You quietly pleaded with your brows knotted together
“What are you talking about?” He asked pulling you back to his face, trying to smooth away your concerned frown with a thumb
“Bebbanburg. I know what happened at the palace, please do not go.”
“It’s going to be alright, we’ve faced worse with less and survived. And this time survival means we will take Bebbanburg, then I won’t have to steal kisses from you in secret.” He soothed cupping your cheeks.
“You would want me there with you?” The idea of having a home just for the two of you filled your chest with a renewed sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, they really would be able to succeed.
“You are my lady, are you not?” Smiling at his words you leaned up capturing his lips once more allowing yourself to get lost in him if even for only a short moment.
You trailed behind Finan heading towards the groups horses fiddling with the pale silver cross at your neck watching the sun glint off his chainmail hating that you were to have distance between you yet again as Uhtred was saying his farewells to Father Beocca and Hild.
Removing the cross from your neck you bundled up its cord into a neat small loop and tucked it into his hand drawing his attention away from the large steed. His face twisted into a silent question as he moved it around in his palm.
“Make sure you get that back to me.” You spoke quietly. Unravelling the loop you had made he put it on to hang next to his own.
“I’ll be coming back for you.” He placed a delicate kiss to your knuckles as you unwillingly parted ways.
Weeks had passed with no news of Bebbanburg having a new Lord to watch over the distant lands in Northumbria and you were growing more and more restless which only increased when you learned of the unsettling attack at Aeglesburgh led by Cnut and Brida as they savaged Mercia.
“The Ealdormen remain in Aeglesburgh?” Aethelflaed asked Lord Aldhelm as you all walked through the hallways of the palace at Winchester after Edward had refused to send men.
“Any that were not killed in the attack” Aldhelm shot a weary look in your direction and your stomach sank, your father resided inside the city walls.
“I will summon the Mercian fyrds. We’re going to Aeglesburgh y/n.” Aethelflaed declared and you could only nod in response.
After the failure at Bebbanburg Finan was feeling the weight of keeping the men motivated to stay with Uhtred while also helping his Lord battle the grief he felt at the loss of Beocca. They trudged through the thick woods going south when they stumbled across Haesten with his kinfolk, the dane had made remarks about Aethelflaed piquing their curiosity enough to accept the invitation of food and a camp.
“Haesten’s men say Cnut and Brida have attacked Mercia.” Osferth stated hugging his forearm that hung in a make shift sling.
“Edward and Aelthred will need us now.” Finan sighed looking to his Lord, he didn’t like this information at all.
“I owe them nothing” Uhtred spat
“And Aethelflaed?” Finan rolled his shoulders adjusting his stance, if Mercia needed help with Aethelred being in East Anglia he knew the Lady of Mercia would step up to meet an army of danes and where Aethelflaed went, you followed.
After travelling around Mercia summoning the fyrds to meet at Tettenhall you arrived to the heart wrenching sight that was Aeglesburgh, the main gates had been removed from their hinges and bodies hung from the ramparts causing your stomach to twist and turn in knots as the unwelcomed smell of death invaded your senses.
Moving further into the city the ground was littered with the destruction of the merciless danes that had savaged the people of the place you had called home for so many years.
“Search for survivors and bring them here” Aethelflaed spoke instructing Aldhelm
“We should not delay here, the danes could return.”
“I know.”
You helped with clearing up and organising the inside of the palace so the survivors would have a safe sanctuary on their arrival as the few guard members that travelled with you assisted in gathering the bodies so they may eventually be blessed before burial. After a short while Aethelflaed came to you with a sombre face and took your hand in hers.
“I am so sorry lady y/n, the men have found your father and..” Her gaze fell to floor finding herself unable to fully deliver the news
“No.” You shook your head pulling your hand away and walked for the doors feeling ice crawl up through your body, your breath quickened with your pace turning into a run towards the bodies that were being laid out under the evening’s red and pink sky. Spotting the lifeless form of your father tears stung your eyes and you knelt besides him, choked sobs escaping through the tightness in your chest.
Although you had not always seen eye to eye he understood how important the small freedom’s you could get were to you and that your mother had wished for you to be able to make your own choices wherever possible as she also had in her life even if it had frustrated him.
“Lady, I am sorry but it is not safe for you to linger here” Aldhelm’s voice was soft as he hesitated in lifting you from the dried mud.
Finan sat atop his horse with one of Cnut’s sons, his relief to be approaching Aeglesburgh turning to concern. There were hardly any men guarding the walls and there were no gates to protect the city from any further invasions.
He watched on as the boy was taken down from his horse and Uhtred spoke to Aethelflaed. Dismounting he looked to Osferth and Sihtric with worry at the scene and wondered if you had been left in Winchester and approached his Lord and the Lady to interrupt with his question.
“I’m sorry Lady but, y/n?”
“She is here in the hall” Aethelflaed confirmed, looking to Uhtred for permission he was given a nod to go.
“Finan, be gentle with her, she is in a fragile state.” Aethelflaed motioned to the bodies still in their place and he recognised Lord Aelfric.
“Oh god.” He uttered and jogged towards the hall.
He found you stood beside a hearth with your hand resting on the hilt of the dagger at your waist he had given you the previous summer. You were staring into the flames that stuttered and swayed in the breeze coming in through the now open door of the hall lighting your features and highlighting your tear swollen eyes that still sparkled as if they had never fully dried, slowly he reached out and barely brushed your shoulder trying not to startle you.
A breath caught in your throat as you met his eyes instantly throwing your arms around his neck pulling him into you, he said nothing holding you as tears began freely falling again.
“How are you here?” You sniffed keeping your face buried against him
“We couldn’t take Bebbanburg, we lost Beocca.” Sadness quietly laced his voice
“Finan, I’m sorry” You breathed meeting his gaze
“No I am. The bastards are going to pay for this, I swear.” His eyes were the hardest you’d ever seen them and knew he meant every word of the threat
“You will be fighting at Tettenhall?”
“Do you have to ask?”
Before you could say anything else Aldhelm calling for all men to be on the ramparts echoed through the quiet city, without a care in the world for who was watching Finan captured your lips in an intense kiss that somehow melted away some of the pain you carried.
“I’m needed out there, now you stay in here.” He instructed breaking away from your hold
“No, I will go to my father’s home. It’s close by inside the walls.” You countered and he groaned, one of the things he adored about you was your strong will but in times like this it only added to his worry for you being safe “No arguments Finan, I will be fine there.”
You silently walked down the steps side by side and as you turned off left towards the street of houses Finan walked backwards towards to the ramparts making a mental note of which house you entered and positioned himself within its view.
As the night got darker Finan spotted light leaking through the splintered shutters on the ground level of the house you were in, he always yearned for you whenever he was away but somehow tonight it was worse, he not only wanted to comfort you but be comforted by you as well.
“You are looking in the wrong direction.” Osferth mumbled from his side
“Quiet you. Not all of us need to shout about men approaching if it happens.”
“Have you thought about just asking Uhtred if you can go to her?”
Finan sighed, it wasn’t a terrible idea. He had been gone on his Lord’s orders for quite a long time and he rarely complained or asked for anything, surely he would be allowed this one request? Giving Osferth a pat on the shoulder he took a breath and walked to Uhtred’s position who only gave him a side glance at his arrival.
“Lord, I -“ He started keeping his eyes ahead
“I know what you are going to ask Finan, no.” Uhtred’s tone was flat and Finan snapped his head to look at him
“Uhtred, I don’t want for nothing and do as you ask of my own free will, you know this. Don’t make me beg.” His lord sighed, the wheels turning in his head visible.
“Go, but I want you back here before dawn.” Uhtred resolved.
Sitting on the edge of a large table looking at the hearth you had managed to get lit you took in your fathers home, most of the furniture had been toppled over and damaged during the attack. You had done your best at tidying up the destruction in the small space with the odd sob and tear escaping every so often but you swallowed them down refusing to succumb to grief entirely. Knowing Finan was close and for now, safe, was helping like a soothing balm to your aching heart.
The cracked door creaking open pulled you from your thoughts and you looked to Finan in the doorway, you offered him a small smile and held out your arms silently requesting his embrace and he obliged being careful not to further damage the door when he closed it. He hummed into your neck as you snaked your arms around his and he locked his strong chainmail covered arms around your waist.
“Are you do-“ He quietly began asking
“No, I don’t want to talk, just kiss me”
He kissed you slowly lacing his fingers through your hair at the nape of your neck, your hands on his back holding him as close as possible condemning the touch of cool leather on your palms. With each push and pull of your lips against each other the intensity and need grew, drawing your hands around to his sword belt he didn’t stop or prevent your fingers nimbly unknotting and unbuckling the leather strap pulling it free from the loops of his cuirass and letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thud.
Finan turned your face in his hands trailing hot tender kisses across your jaw and down your neck as your hands slipped under his thick gambeson and worked at unlacing his breeches slipping them down to his thighs, he groaned against your neck when you palmed at his growing erection and bunched the skirts of your dresses up to your hips and running his fingers through your folds. The flames from the hearth igniting the gold tones in his eyes as if they were on fire themselves matched the growing heat in your core, you didn’t just want his touch this time, you wanted to feel all of him.
You didn’t know how long it would be before you saw him again with all this chaos going on around you. Mercia was savaged, nearly lost, Wessex was on the verge of its own problems with Aethelred calling himself King of Mercia. You were both bound to be separated by distance once more.
“I want you to have all of me” You moaned against his mouth as the pad of his finger massaged your clit, your lust laden eyes looking into his. Finan simply moaned in response pulling you closer to the edge of the table and lined himself up your wet entrance.
The first shallow thrusts had you wrapping an arm around his shoulders with your nails digging into the leather covering his body, the other tightly gripping the tables edge burying your face in his neck muting your small whimpers at the discomfort. The dull pain finally eased off and he paused with his cock now fully sheathed inside your tight walls, you planted soft open mouthed kisses up his neck to his mouth and he kissed you back with a fire you had never experienced and moaned when he began moving his hips again.
You brought your leg higher up to his waist and he locked it in place gripping at your thigh, the new angle bringing on a deeper feeling of pleasure with each pump of his length into you. Finan knew he wouldn’t last long with the combination of your tightness gripping him and the sweet noises falling from your mouth into his so he slid his thumb in between your two connected bodies and rubbed precise circles against your clit.
You mewled a string of incoherent words at him as your breath quickened and back arched into him, he felt your walls constrict and flutter around his cock brining him to fall off the ledge into bliss with you. Finan’s hips stuttered emptying his hot seed into your core burying his face into your hair as he did and your thighs trembled with you struggling to regain your composure having reached your peak.
The small house was silent other than the occasional crackling of wood coming from the hearth as you and Finan rested your heads on each others shoulders with your bodies still entangled, you lightly played with the hair at the nape of his neck as he drew shapes into the soft skin of your thighs.
“Take me as your wife” You words cut through quiet causing Finan to lift his head and look at you
“I would, in a heartbeat, but it cannot be.” He shook his head with furrowed brows, not in anger but sadness.
“It can.” You countered
“And if we’re refused?” He pulled back from you completely now and you winced readjusting your legs and skirts
“I do not believe they would annul the marriage if it had already taken place” You watched him retie his laces
“Your life wouldn’t be as comfortable as it is now, you do know that?” He glanced at you straightening out his gambeson and picking up his sword belt
“I know what I’m asking Finan.” You stood helping him with the leather and its buckle
“So, do we ask for permission or forgiveness?” He harshly knotted his belt and stood closer into your space cupping your face
“I will speak to Aethelflaed after the battle” You smiled, his question confirming he wants the same as you do.
“Say she doesn’t survive, what then?” He worryingly pondered, he knew you would become your family’s responsibility again if she was to fall in battle
“Then we won’t be asking anyone for anything, I won’t let my brother chose my fate. You will take me with you to Coccham.” He nodded in agreement planting a gentle kiss to your lips.
Next
End Notes: I have no words.
Taglist: @arcielee @tssf-imagines @bcon24 @finanmoghra
#i have a very hectic day tomorrow so i'm just gonna leave this here now#finan x you#finan x reader#finan fanfic#finan tlk#tlk fanfic
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Who is the better written evil bitch!
Propaganda.
Cersei
Content warning for discussion of sexual abuse, incest between adult siblings, domestic abuse, and misogyny.
To be clear, I am only talking about Cersei as she exists in the book series, not in Game of Thrones.
Here’s the short version. Long version under the cut.
A sympathetic victim of misogyny in a way that modern real women will find relatable despite her living in fake medieval times with magic
Despite being a sympathetic victim, she’s loathsome and unquestionably a villain
Has people exiled, murdered, tortured, and made victims of human experimentation for as little as being inconvenient for her plans
Driven by love for her children and desire to protect them but ends up being abusive in an effort to control them
Thinks she’s the grandest mastermind in the world and feels completely untouchable only for her plans to fall apart catastrophically
Cersei is perhaps one of the best female villains of all time as far as writing goes. Her story is sad and uncomfortably realistic even for real women in the current age. She’s the twin sister of Jaime Lannister. Growing up, they looked so similar that they could even trade places. Cersei always saw them as two halves of one person. Until they hit puberty and everything changed and she was confronted with the reality of being female. She believed herself to be the smartest and most competent of her siblings but was continuously treated as lesser by her father and others because she’s female. Her fate was to be wed to a man of her father’s choice. This turned into a bitter kernel of envy that permeates Cersei’s entire being. She envies the privileges awarded to men and desperately wishes to prove that she’s better. She idolizes her father, once one of the most powerful men in the country and perhaps the most brilliant strategist in the series, despite his mistreatment of her. She’s promised a marriage that actually does excite her only for the father of her would be groom to unexpectedly reject the proposal. She watches as this man is wed to another woman. And then, on top of that, she watches as this man falls in love with a third woman and starts a massive war that ends in the deaths of the would be groom, his wife and kids, the third woman, and his father, ending the reign of his family.
Finally she is married off to the man who killed her would be groom and assumed the throne. He was handsome. She was the queen now. She could have loved him. But on their wedding night, when they got into bed, he whispered the name of… the third woman, the Helen of Troy. She hated him, and he hated her. He was never gentle with her. Her physically abused her. He was a wretched king. Cersei knew she would be a better ruler so she envied him too. And she couldn’t understand for the life of her why he would hurt her. That tormented her. It all tormented her. Here she is, a woman who is said to be the most beautiful woman in all the land, desired by all, and yet love escapes her. Here she is, cunning and intelligent, yet she can never hold the same positions of power as her twin or her father, just because she happens to be female. And she desperately wants to understand why. Once her husband is dead and their kids (not really her husband’s kids; their father is Cersei’s twin brother) are too young to truly rule, she grasps at the power she’s been deprived of all her life in every way she can. She sleeps with a female friend of hers and hurts her intentionally, trying to understand what her dead husband felt, why he hurt her, but gets no thrill out of this.
She uses her charm as a way to try to reach for this power. Because she cannot be a man, she views being a beautiful woman a consolation prize. She sleeps with at least three men to manipulate them into getting what she wants but fails to realize the position of vulnerability this puts her in until it’s too late and it becomes one of the things that undoes her. She fails to realize that appealing to the sexual desires of men does not actually empower her, which so beautifully parallels the struggles many modern women, at least in the US experience.
The true tragedy of her desperation is that she has a sense of inevitability about it. She received a prophecy as a young girl that has loomed over her head ever since. She was told that she would be queen, but that all of her children would die, that there would come a younger and more beautiful queen who would take away all that she holds dear, and that her ultimate demise would come at the hands of her little brother (which could be her twin as she was born first, or Tyrion, their other brother). She goes to extreme lengths and uses the power she’s attained (or thinks she’s attained) to prevent this from happening, growing increasingly desperate as her first child dies at the hands of Tyrion (or so she thinks), with her actions becoming more and more extreme, committing atrocity after atrocity with a false sense of untouchability as she watches the prophecy come true in spite of everything.
That mostly summarized why I think she’s so well written, so let’s cover some evils she’s committed that I didn’t mention already.
Pushes her childhood friend down a well because said friend knew about her prophecy (childhood)
Abuses her younger brother Tyrion and makes his life hell in general (childhood and throughout her life)
Orders that a little girl’s pet wolf be killed because a DIFFERENT wolf bit her son (who deserved to be bitten)
Holds said little girl hostage because she had been betrothed to her eldest son and allows him to abuse her horrifically. The betrothal is later broken but she continues to hold the girl as a hostage. When someone comes up with a plan to remove said girl from the castle to somewhere she’ll be safe and happy, she thwarts this plan and weds the girl to her brother Tyrion. She is 12. He is 25.
Any time anyone inconveniences her even a little, she deals with them in a host of colorful ways. She might 1. Have them sent to the night’s watch, which is the lifelong community service option in a freezing and unforgiving region, offered as an alternative to execution 2. Simply have them murdered by one of them she’s sleeping with or 3. Offer them up to her favorite mad scientist for human experimentation
Her bodyguard is killed by a terrible poison. A different family in the country wants his head because said bodyguard is more evil than Cersei (won’t get into it). She wanted her little mad scientist to save him, but 1. He couldn’t and 2. She needed to send the head. So she had his head removed and sent off but had her mad scientist fuse a helmet to his head and resurrect his body. This one is actually more badass than evil tbh
Is abusive towards her children in her efforts to control them to prevent the prophecy from being fulfilled
Orchestrates a complex plan to have the bride of her second son, the new heir to the throne, found guilty of adultery, which is treason when committed against the king, and executed (women cannot join the night’s watch). This involves a great deal of manipulation and torture
I think that covers it for Cersei’s greatest hits. She’s a tragic victim of misogyny and manages to be very sympathetic while also being loathsome for being so cruel and evil. She’s an incredibly complex character and definitely the most well-written evil female character I’ve encountered.
Ballas:
This absolutely terrible awful man creates sooo many problems just because he REALLY misses his ex-wife. Who he killed because she wanted to not murder the children aboard the Zeroman 10-0. He torments his Ex's adopted children, manipulates a completely unrelated woman, Natah, into being a copy of his ex-wife, and then rats out his entire society to her dad (who is a massive evil robot) when she breaks up with him over the emotional abuse. Aside from that, he also forcibly mutated some random guy into a mute war machine and then forced that guy to kill his own family. And that's just the cliff notes of the backstory, we haven't even gotten to the actual events of the game yet!
Ballas first shows up to ''''''convince''''''' the player character's mother figure, The Lotus/Natah (it's a very long story), into going back to her shitty biological family. In reality, he manipulated and kidnapped her, but the player didn't realize this because of his gaslighting. The next time he shows up is after the player reconstructed Excalibur Umbra (the guy who had to kill his own son) where he gets way too cocky that the Tenno won't kill him. They do, specifically by giving Umbra the will he needs to impale him. Now, if Ballas was respectable, he'd die here, but instead, The Lotus/Natah shows up and gets him medical attention.
the next few cinematics are dubiously canon due to retcons, but what can be picked out is that The Lotus/Natah has been coming to her senses and has been avoiding him. Her brother, Erra, supposedly took over looking after him, but he's easily manipulated and is basically Ballas' cool little murder pet (It can be interpreted that part of why Erra was so easily manipulated was because he has a crush on Ballas that Ballas is using to his advantage, but Erra is also just kinda a pushover). At some point, Hunhow (Erra and Natah's father) starts to realize that Ballas' gross gaslighting and manipulation reflect how Hunhow treated his children, and Hunhow drops all contact with the murder robot forces, leaving Erra (and by extension Ballas) to inflict wanton damage and destruction.
With Hunhow's loose moral code out of the picture, Ballas starts turning Natah into a living battery so that she's weak enough for him to properly manipulate her. He convinces Erra that it's for the best, and also starts taking over the Origin system with freaky mind-control masks. He forms Narmer, an empire based on mind control and a likely butchered version of the murder-robot's religion. When the player comes to rescue Natah, he decides that now is the time to enact his sick sense of 'revenge' (that, might I remind you, is actually against a different woman that Natah NEVER EVEN KNEW) by making her watch him impale her adopted child before tossing them both into the Void.
luckily, an alternate version of the player character (there are alternate timelines in this game but that's unrelated) saves Natah from death and nurses her back to health. However, before she's fully recovered, Natah goes on a trama-fulled murder attempt, meeting Ballas on the mothership and attempting to kill him. It doesn't work, as Ballas gaslights and berates her into submission again, but the player character is here to remind Natah that hey, she really doesn't deserve to be treated like this, and also she ISN'T that woman that he killed and undefined amount of time ago! Finally, Natah is able to overcome his abuse and chuck his ass into the sun. during this scene, it's also revealed that he's going to use the sun to power a trip to the Tau Centi system and he somehow spins the imminent destruction of the sun (and therefore all life in Origin) into Natah's fault. This man is nasty.
I hope this is the sort of awful blorbo you are looking for! Some of this is my personal interpretation of the game, but I swear the rest is canon and happens in-game.
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Can you share some snippet? I still have in the back of my mind that there is a chance that you will be able to finish writing this by the end of December and I absolutely can't wait and I find myself thinking about it all the time
I'm glad your excited! I'm working really hard to try to make that date and I do plan on posting updates as i make significant progress so those will definitely help you know when I'm getting close.
And you can absolutely have a snippet! I want to give this one some context though. A little while back I found myself wanting to re write/expand on what I had originally written in Cabin. I realized that wasn't the best idea but that I could use flashbacks that Spider has while recovering to further detail everything that happened in the cabin so this is that. Enjoy!
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He thought that it was around the fourth or fifth night when Quaritch walked through his door carrying a small metal tub and a pile of pillows. “What’s that for?” Spider asked, his stomach twisting into knots.
“Medieval torture,” Quaritch’s voice dripped with sarcasm. He chuckled as his son’s eyes grew wide with horror, not fully believing that he was just joking. “Relax, you just need a bath. You're starting to smell.”
Heat rose to Spider’s face at the prospect of this new found indignity. “Don’t,” he gasped out, fighting to steady his voice, “don’t touch me!” Quaritch just shook his head. “Please, let me up. I’m sure you’ve got a shower here somewhere. Just let me use that! I’ll be quick. Five minutes, I promise! I promise I won’t try anything. Please, please don’t….”
“Why are you so embarrassed,” Quaritch calmly cut him off, “I’m your father. I used to give you baths in the kitchen sink for christ sake. I was there when you were born, kid. I have cared and cleaned up after you since day one. You’ve got nothin’ to be ashamed of around me.”
“That was then! I’m not a kid anymore…” Quaritch outright laughed at him. “I’m fifteen!”
“You're delusional if you think being fifteen makes you not a kid. Now quit your bitchin’.” Quaritch approached, grabbing Spider by his underarms, raising him up as far as the restraints would allow. Pillows were stuffed underneath him, keeping him upright. Then Quaritch pulled up a chair, wasting no time in taking one of the thin braids that framed Spider’s face in hand, slipping off the small silicon band that held it in place, and unraveling the plate. “Stop!” Spider screamed, jerking his head away, not caring that the hair still in Quaritch’s hold was pulled roughly from his sudden movement.
Quaritch sighed, “your hair is a greasy mess. It needs to be washed…”
“Don’t touch me!” Spider couldn’t stand it when people touched his hair. Too many foster parents criticizing and getting frustrated with him over his “ugly” curls, that he didn’t know how to care for, and they didn’t have the patience to help him with. It usually led to yelling, bad haircuts, and hating his own reflection. It had taken Neytiri and Mo’at months of them gently coaxing him, to allow them to help with his hair. But once they did, it had been amazing. Spider nearly cried as they patiently cared for every last loc, braiding his hair in the intricate style of the Omatikaya. After that, Spider was sat down every Sunday like all the other Sully children to have his hair washed and styled for the week. And now Quaritch was destroying it.
Quaritch sighed. It seemed like he was expecting this reaction, remaining calm in the face of Spider’s yelling and thrashing. “It’s okay son.” He tried to stroke his cheek but Spider pulled away, hissing like an animal. “Miles…”
“That’s not my name!”
His father was unfazed patiently saying, “yes it is. Your mother and I gave it to you. No way in hell I’m callin’ y’a by the name of a pathetic bug.” Spider snarled at the disrespect of his chosen name. Quaritch was as stoic as ever, standing from his seat, leaning over Spider to take another one of his braids. He tried to rear back as far as he could but it was no use. Quaritch had him pinned. The man reached for the thick braid that ran down the length of Spider’s back, slipping off the elastic band that bound it. “Stop,” Spider didn’t even care if he sounded like he was begging now. He wanted this stranger’s hands off of him. He wanted to preserve what could possibly be the last thing that tied him to the Sully family. “Stop, please!” Quaritch’s hand was at the side of his head now, undoing the plaits close to his scalp. “Please….” Spider was sobbing, fat tears running down his face. He felt so utterly humiliated. So vulnerable and pathetic.
“Shhhh…it’s okay,” Quaritch’s voice was heartbreakingly gentle. He ran a hand through Spiders now loose hair in an attempt at comfort. It only made Spider cry harder, his breath coming out in shuttering gasps. Quaritch continued to shh him while taking small sections of his locs, carefully combing them out. And it felt nice. To his horror it was the same level of care that Netyri and Mo’at had shown him. The comparison made him sick to his stomach.
Spider felt dead inside as Quaritch brushed his hair until there wasn’t a single tangle left. He checked out as he was lowered down, his head placed in a basin of warm water. And damn it all, it felt nice, the firm messaging of his scalp as his hair was washed, the affectionate scratches. It felt nice. And he hated every second of it…
#miles spider socorro#miles quaritch#spider socorro#colonel miles quaritch#cabin in the woods#avatar fanfiction#my fanfic
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@shoukous “ weird works for me. ”
he laughs into the crown of shoko's head, the type of laughter that he knows annoys her the most. huffing into her hair, his hand curling on her nape, nose rubbing into her scalp. he takes a moment before speaking to inhale the scent of her shampoo—its warm and sweet, satoru can imagine the bottle being named being something like tropical delight, or eternal summer. her hair is soft and shiny, brushed to a perfect sheen thanks to her hair routine that satoru feels borders on a medieval - torture technique, but always works wonders.
shoko is all soft when ready for bed, and he's the one privileged enough to see her like this. free from the weight of their duties ( if only for a few hours ), able to relax into the version of herself that's loose - limbed and cracks smiles more easily at his terrible jokes.
" i'd hope so. being fine with curses and cadavers, but then drawing the line at my sleeping habits, seems a bit hypocritical. "
satoru noses down to her temple and kisses the corner of her eye. the half-snort she gives him is the sweetest sound. it's enough to ease the self - consciousness teisring in his stomach since he told shoko about the sleep talking. nothing too major, but he'd been told more than once that it caught people off - guard, the quiet of the night broken by satoru's disjointed conversations with whatever resided in his dreams. from the times he's recorded himself he's learnt it's mostly harmless babbling, but sometimes it gets a little too creepy. sometimes satoru says names and—
sometimes—
his other hand, settled on her hips, tightens a bit. satoru softens his hold and apologetically rubs his thumb over her skin.
" you won't hear ominous latin or a murder confession, I promise. just . . . don't freak out if you hear me saying the alphabet backwards. "
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D.E.A.N | Chapter 31 - Civilian (END)
Masterlist and overall summary of the whole novel is here. | Prompt on trope-appreciation-tuesdays that inspired this is here. | @whumptober-archive
Fandom : Original Work
(I) (II) (III) (IV) (V) (VI) (VII) (VIII) (IX) (X) (XI) (XII) (XIII) (XIV) (XV) (XVI) (XVII) (XVIII) (XIX) (XX) (XXI) (XXII) (XXIII) (XXIV) (XXV) (XXVI) (XXVII) (XXVIII) (XXIX) (XXX) (XXXI - END)
AO3
A/N Aaaaaand here we are at last. The last chapter. The pseudo epilogue. The wrap-up. The end (before a new beginning for the sequel). I'm so proud of myself because this is genuinely the first long fic I've ever finished in my entire life. I have so many WIPs and they're all always half-written and get somewhat abandoned in the middle. Maybe this is the beginning of me finally being able to finish my other WIPs, including the sequel for D.E.A.N.
I cannot promise when I will start posting the chapters of the sequel, but with the first book in the installment now finished, it might be a little easier to finish writing the second book too because I don't have to jump around between writing two of them. I have another whump misunderstanding WIP too about a prince and a knight in a medieval setting that has a similar premise to D.E.A.N. And I have an anthology-style non-linear whump fic about two of my original OCs that are basically the prototype of Mark and Nick (you can read them on my AO3, if you want). It's likely that I will start posting those before posting D.E.A.N - Resurgence, so please be patient.
Anyway, if you want to read this chapter and immerse yourself, I suggest reading this while listening to T*ylor Sw*ft's "Wildest Dream", because Nick and Mark are so "Wildest Dream"-coded lol. Not to mention I loosely base Mark's appearance on Scott Eastwood, who is in that song's music video. Look, I know a lot of people here don't like her, but some of her songs are really good and fascinating, and I think that song really fits the end of D.E.A.N. (If you want to immerse yourself when reading the first few chapters, especially Chapter 15 - Visit, I suggest listening to Adele's Easy on Me, because that's the song I was constantly listening to when writing those chapters).
Anyway, adieu everyone! I'll see you in the next book, hopefully soon!
Wordcount: ± 5067
TW: Discussion of Past Sexual Assault, Kidnapping, Captivity, and Torture, Allusion to Slight Panic Attack, Allusion to Past Suicide Attempt
After all is said and done, and the dust has settled, Mark realizes everything will—and has to—change from now on, so he takes care of some unresolved heartfelt business before going ghost with the hope that it’s not going to be forever.
Whumptober 2023 Tropes:
Day 16 — “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”
Day 21 — Vows
Day 29 — Troubled Past Resurfacing
This story is set in the last half of 2016.
——
"Mister Belyaev! Mister Belyaev! Over here!"
"Nikolai, how would you describe your experience in Helga?"
"Nick Belyaev, is it true you made Helga network?"
"Nicky, over here!"
"Nikolai, can you tell us anything about your rescuers? They were said to be confidential?"
"Mister Belyaev, is it true you were prostituted to several senators? Which ones are they?"
"You were said to be the first surviving victim of Helga, is that true? How do you feel about that, Nick?"
"Mister Belyaev, can you tell us which politicians you know are involved in this syndicate?"
"Nikolai Belyaev, can you look here for a bit?"
The screen of the heavy-duty laptop is showing Mark the scene of Nick slightly slouching and covering his face with his hands, while double D.E.A.N/Secret Service agents stationed to protect Nick are trying their hardest to create barriers between the heterochromatic-eyed boy and the reporters trying to devour him.
Still, Nick and the agents can barely move, let alone walk away to their car to drive them to a safe house for Nick and his family. Despite the Secret Service agents pushing back reporters roughly and yelling, "Step aside now, all of you. He will not comment. Keep a distance or we will take necessary actions if you injure him," the reporters are relentless.
There are even civilians with signs yelling at the entourage, some saying, "Welcome home, Nicky! You're safe now :)"—which Mark begrudgingly feels grateful for as he hopes that it will cheer Nick up a little—while others have unsavory things to say regarding Nick's forced prostitution, his so-called ‘communist’ ancestry of being Russian-Vietnamese, and the fact that he created Helga's server—blaming him for it despite the widespread news that Nick was tortured into doing it.
Mark is tuning in on one among many livestreams available of the transfer. Some of them are filmed by reporters and broadcasted on behalf of the news companies they’re working for, big or independent, while others are by civilians from their personal social media accounts. They’re all equally competing with each other to get the best shots and audio so that they get the most viewers.
Nikolai looks so distressed in the livestream. Mark can tell from the screen that Nick looks somewhat pale with his swirly blue-brown eyes moist, lips also bitten. He hears Nick whispering with quivering voice to the closest reporters and nosy civilians, "Please, can you let me go?"
As usual, when he watches Nick being hurt by someone (like the times he was allowed to see Nick indirectly while being treated in D.E.A.N medic facility—many doctors and nurses, unfortunately, had to put Nick through somewhat painful treatments sometimes—or the instances Mark was shown more torture footages of Nick for intel purposes), he feels a jolt of fury and protectiveness seeing Nick deeply upset and scared like that.
Unfortunately, watching the livestream is the only thing Mark is allowed to do right now while the transfer to the safehouse is commencing.
He knows he isn't allowed to go near the building where Nick is officially announced to be rescued, with high-level commanders from Central Hub saying that 1056 agents aren't allowed to be near Nick. They’re citing worry that 1056’s objective judgments might be impaired after living with Nick for so long. So, all he can do at this point is just seethe, clench his jaw with balled fists, and wish his knuckles can connect to those asshole reporters and harassers roughly.
He muses that maybe the commanders are right about their suspicion.
Mark then ponders whether calling it ‘announced’ is too generous of a word. D.E.A.N simply moved Nick out of a confidential headquarter in Colorado and into this public venue—a transitional building to make sure no one can track D.E.A.N's classified locations—before delivering him to a safe house. D.E.A.N has finally decided that Nick has done enough work for them in secrecy, so he can now continue helping the division outside of their confidential sites.
They have also determined that Nick is safe enough to be put back into civilian life, although they will still station agents here and there to make sure Nick stays alive to keep helping D.E.A.N and other government agencies, including public law enforcement. Many national and foreign justice system courts have also requested help and testimony from him, since many are now starting to open criminal cases against Helga syndicate members who are caught and identified.
For some reason, crafty and sneaky reporters caught a whiff of the news of Nick's transfer and immediately descended upon the venue like a ravenous pack of vultures. The news traveled fast beyond reporters' communities too, so other curious or sympathetic people, along with bitter and mean trolls, are now also standing around the building, adding to the crowd that is swarming Nick.
There are at least 10 double D.E.A.N/Secret Service agents who are assigned to chaperone Nick right now, and they are still obviously overwhelmed anyway. It seems that they have underestimated just how easy and quick it is for classified information like this to breach containment, and how many people would be interested in it.
They are moving like ants, little by little, inches by inches, practically crawling instead of walking, but Mark can eventually see them pushing Nick gently into the car. The windows are tinted, and he knows that they are all also bullet-proof, but the reporters and the crowds do not give up in trying to see inside the car, many cameras shoved right onto the glass windowpanes. They’re probably hoping that if the lens is basically touching the glass, it can penetrate the dark tint of the windows.
It doesn’t matter. The car still manages to drive away, protected by another car in the front and one more taking the rear. So Mark sighs and closes his laptop, relieved on behalf of Nikolai, but also still anxious if the younger man is going to arrive here in one piece.
Marcus knows this is probably going to land him in hot waters with Central Hub, but he cannot make himself stay away until he can make sure that Nick is safe and sound. He is hoping Central Hub will only realize he is not accounted for in the headquarter within an hour at least, enough to buy him some time to see for himself that Nick has arrived in the safehouse, alive and well.
So he waits, leaning against his discardable car which he parks around a hundred meters from the aforementioned house.
Three cars that look different from the livestream finally pull over the safehouse property, and Mark is guessing they stopped by somewhere hidden to change cars, since the previous ones were already identified by the public. Those vehicles are probably no longer safe for travel to a sensitive spot like this.
Mark pulls out his binoculars, pointing them at the cars one by one until he finally sees Nick walking out of one of them. He sees Nick stumbling and hesitating when he sees his family—his mother, his father, his sister, his niece, and his brother-in-law. They are at a standstill for a bit until Alisa finally chokes out a sob and runs to Nick to hug him tightly.
Nick looks a bit surprised, but he raises his arms to hug his sister back, burying his face in the crook of his sister’s neck and shoulder despite being almost a head taller than her. The others then follow suit, walking towards Nick and hugging him tight. Mark can’t tell what they’re saying to each other, other than being able to see that they’re finally hugging each other with happy tears all over their faces, except for Tom who is more stilted and distant without hugging Nick like the rest.
Mark can only guess what Tom is saying to Nick, but Nick gives a small smile before looking at his brother-in-law’s arms where Nicole is being held. Nick immediately brightens up and bends down a little to coo at her, inviting a smile on Mark’s face too. He knows full well Nicole is really, really important to Nick. Months of living together in their Nevada headquarter have shown him that.
He sees Nick straighten up again with a wide smile and excited face—giving a peck to baby Nicole—before running to the car again. He pulls out a carrier, which Mark knows has Nightingale in it, so he is not surprised when he sees Nick unzipping the carrier and pulling out his black blob cat to show her to Nicole. The baby is reaching out to pet Nightingale stutteringly, probably because she hasn’t mastered her motor skill, and she laughs jovially while screaming in excitement because Nightingale turns to lick her tiny fingers. They all laugh together, and even the chaperone agents smile at the scene.
Mark pulls down his binoculars, feeling somewhat at ease since he can confirm that Nick is safe now, back with his family and hopefully getting better and becoming well-adjusted into normal life eventually.
Mark knows he should head back to the Central Hub headquarter right now, seeing that his secure D.E.A.N-issued phone is pinging alerts that he is being summoned to one of the offices in the headquarter, but nowhere to be found. He estimates that within 30 minutes they will realize that Mark has exited the premise without permission, and another 30 minutes to pinpoint exactly which coordinates he is at now.
Well, he still has time.
He pulls up his binoculars again and he sees the Belyaev (and Conrad) family walking into the house with Nick having his sister’s and mother’s arms around his shoulders. Alisa’s other hand is holding the pet carrier, while Nick is holding Nightingale in his arms, the feline looking much bigger than what Mark remembers seeing. Nick’s father and Tom are walking in front of him, opening the door so Nick can go in first.
He still sees some agents standing around the cars and the front door with their typical idle pose—a hand on top of the other over their stomachs. Mark can tell their earpiece comms are still on to communicate with some D.E.A.N management, seeing the lips movements of the agents with his binoculars.
He feels another vibration of alert in his phone, tsking in annoyance but still pulling out his phone anyway. A Central Hub agent apparently sent a direct message saying that he knows that Mark has gone somewhere out of the headquarter without clearance, and soon the commanders will know too. Mark rolls his eyes and types a message saying he has a pressing security matter to take care of, not really feeling bad about it because he is technically not lying. The matter of Nick’s safety is paramount to him.
But he continues the chat, sensing the testiness of the agent from the texts. He sounds pissed that Mark doesn’t show him enough respect despite being a higher-level agent—and also an agent in charge of managing several teams, one of which Mark is going to be assigned to. Mark tries to continue the lie, trying to conceal the fact that he is going directly against Central Hub’s instructions to not go anywhere near Nick.
He suddenly hears a knock on his car behind him.
He turns around near the speed of light, one hand already going to his holster, but then he sighs deeply in relief as he sees Nick there.
“Hi,” the heterochromatic-eyed boy says to him with a small smile.
“I thought you’re someone dangerous,” he responds with a slightly irritated voice.
Nick smirks, evidently pleased he could sneak up on Mark.
Mark narrows his eyes with a realization.
“How did you get here?”
Nick just shrugs. “Saw a suspicious car parked here since I arrived.”
Mark narrows his eyes even more in question.
“And you just decided to approach it?”
Nick shrugs again, making Mark slightly uncomfortable with how brazen Nick is about his safety.
“You know, for a confidential government institution agent, you’re kinda bad at disguising yourself,” Nick comments lightly, sensing that Mark might be concerned about his sense of self-preservation.
So Mark chuckles now, relieved.
“I’m not here under Central Hub’s command,” he explains casually, “so I don’t have enough resources and preparation to conceal myself like usual.”
“Hmm,” Nick smirks again, “Sure.”
Mark smiles lightly, feeling serene at the opportunity to talk to Nick again after weeks of not being allowed to meet directly. Or at all.
“You’re pretty good at ambushing me, though,” he comments again. “Learning well from those agents working around you all this time?”
Nick shrugs again. “Maybe.”
Nick moves his legs but stutters, seemingly wanting to get closer to Mark but not knowing if he is allowed. Bells are ringing in his head that this might be unwise to continue, but his heart yearns so badly for a chance to see Nikolai, so he steps aside to give space for Nick to stand near him. Nick walks around the front of the car and leans against the driver’s door next to Marcus.
“How are you?” he eventually asks softly, looking at Nick from top to bottom to detect if Nick is in any harm. He pauses a bit at Nick’s abdomen.
Nick gives a small nod with a bashful smile as he says, “I’m okay.”
It makes Mark feel that weird jolt in his heart again.
“How about you?” Nick asks back, now his turn to lower his eyes towards Mark’s abdomen on his right side.
Marcus looks down too, one hand absently going to his upper waist.
“Yeah, of course,” he replies with a reassuring voice as he feels softness in his heart at Nick’s concern. “Told you I was just lightly grazed.”
Nick nods again with his own relieved breath.
“That’s good. I didn’t know what became of you all these weeks. They didn’t tell me anything.”
“They want you and us, team 1056, to work efficiently,” he shrugs and adds, “Well, as efficient as we could be with all of our ongoing injuries recovery.”
Nick furrows his eyebrows in confusion.
“They think separating us will help. Getting rid of distraction and all.”
Nick rolls his eyes.
“That’s stupid. I’ve been worried sick about you for so long I couldn’t think of anything else,” he says, before he sputters with widened eyes and continues, “I mean, the others in your team too!”
Mark tries not to read too much into it.
“Speaking of which, how are the others?” Nick starts again, his bashfulness after his comment about Mark starting to dissipate. “They didn’t tell me much about what happened to the agents in that attack.”
Mark stares at Nick for a while, eventually feeling some grief and maybe anger settling in his mind. He looks down and inhales deeply.
“3 from 1082… died in action.”
“Oh,” Nick whispers with a shocked and melancholic face.
“The deputy, one sniper, and another agent. I think. Wasn’t informed directly.”
“Agent Leonard, right? The black man?”
Mark nods mournfully. “That deputy, yeah.”
"And the decoy agent?" he asks unsurely, again with fearful face. "Robert Van Hoven, right? That's his name?"
Mark nods to confirm the name, but then gives a half-hearted shrug.
"He is not from 1056, so we weren't really given any information on him." He pauses a bit. "I hope he is okay, though."
Nick nods too.
“The thing is…” Mark leans his head back with a deep, weary sigh “…we weren’t told anything other than the official report. Even I don’t know what exactly happened to the rest. Just hush-hush info, not even verifiable.”
Nick stays quiet reverently, waiting for Mark to recount further.
“Over 25 died in that clash. 4 Tactical Intelligence agents. 11 Offensive team agents,” he explains with despair but also fury in his voice, eyes cast down.
He feels that familiar anger again at himself for failing once more—wondering what could have been done differently so that not so many lives were lost—and at to those sons of bitches from Helga themselves.
“Two out of Doctor Lowe’s three nurses, and another two out of the 5 additional Medical agents sent to 1034. I think at least 6 agents from backup teams also died. That’s all the report says.”
Nick’s lips part while looking down too, probably not knowing how to react to Mark’s obvious tumultuous emotion and expression, or show his condolence appropriately and sufficiently. They all pretty much died for Nick, after all.
“What about…” Nick hesitates, so Mark turns to him, “…your team?”
Mark breathes out heavily, relieved but also forlorn.
“We all survived,” he starts.
Nick’s eyes widen and he breathes out in relief too. “That’s… that’s really good to hear. I’m glad.”
Mark turns to him with slightly raised eyebrows.
“Oh, god, I don’t mean… I’m not glad about the other non-surviving agents,” Nick blurts out nervously with his raised hands waving frantically, “don’t get me wrong!”
Mark gives him a reassuring smile, although still tinged with mourning.
“I understand.”
Nick waits for a while in silence. He then asks, “But all 10 of you in team 1056 survived?”
Mark nods. “Yeah.”
“I’m relieved,” Nikolai says again, body slightly sagging against the car.
“Even for Don and Anna?” he jokes lightly.
“I’m not heartless, Mark. I never wished for any of you to die even if I’m angry,” Nick responds with a slight frown.
Mark chuckles. “I know.”
“Although you and I saw Anna and Angie in the end anyway, so I know they’re okay,” Nick tells him.
A silence passes where they just look forward to the other side of the road, then turn to their right to the safehouse far away from them.
“But…” Nick hesitates again, “…are they… okay?”
“Mostly…” he hangs his words, not sure about how to continue.
“Is anyone in critical condition?” Nick asks worriedly.
“No, not really.”
Nick still seems puzzled, waiting for more explanation.
“Horace is doing better with his shoulder after getting shot,” he recounts, “Anderson almost died of blood loss… had to have his burst spleen taken out… and Luke is still doing physio after his knee got shot.”
Nick raises his eyebrows in surprise.
“But I don’t know if he’s going to be recovered enough to still be a field agent. Fractured knee is kinda hard to repair, you know?”
Nick keeps silent to give Marcus the time he needs to collect himself.
“George… had to be resuscitated in the medic facility,” he informs more. “He survived, but… being dead for around 2 minutes gotta leave some chronic and permanent damage. For now, the Medical agents say just to wait and see.”
Nick bites his lips, unsurely asking him, “The rest?”
“Mary and Lena are thankfully pretty much unscathed. Somehow. Only bruises here and there.”
Nick sighs in relief again.
“And Don?”
Mark gives him another reassuring and somewhat cheeky smile.
“Of course, that son of a bitch survived despite getting shot in the spleen too. Why wouldn’t he?”
Nick laughs loudly, seemingly surprised by Mark’s sudden change of tone.
He drinks in the sound and tries to etch it into his mind deeply, sensing that he is probably not going to be able to hear it again for a long time.
“I mean, they’re probably not going to be fully okay-okay, you know?” he continues again with a somber voice after a while. “But they live.”
They both look down again in sedate silence.
“And are you… really okay, though?”
The way Nick says it tells him that he is not just asking about Mark’s physical condition.
That battle is the biggest conflict he has ever faced so far, seeing as multiple circles of Helga were all swarming them at once. He knew that he trained for this, but looking at the chaos and even some agents shot dead right in front of him still rattles his mind sometimes. He has never been in a collision that chaotic in all of his D.E.A.N history, short as it is.
The fear too that he might not be able to get Nick to safety—that he would have to watch Nick down a full vial of morphine just so that he wouldn’t be taken back by Helga—still haunts him too. It’s as if the fear when they got separated kept surfacing in his dreams all the time, making him this worried and obsessed with seeing Nick again despite direct prohibition from the higher-ranked agents.
That’s why he is here now.
Still, he nods anyway, a silent reassurance that he is fine.
“How about you, Nick?”
He knows that aside from his prior trauma in Helga and at the beginning of his time with Mark’s team (he shudders at the reminder), Nick also had to witness the chaos in 1034’s headquarter, running for his life and then separated and alone with his old handlers several times. He also had to escape with Mark, Anna, Angie, and Doctor Lowe until they eventually ran out of bullets, at one point considering doing a suicide pact with the morphine vials.
Nikolai experienced all of those hells too.
Even from the livestream before, Mark can see that Nick is still deeply anxious and mentally fragile. With how public his rescue is and how ruthless the reporters and harassers are, it’s bound to be another source of trauma for Nick.
“I’ll… I’ll be okay,” Nick hesitates with a small voice, “I think.”
Mark tilts his head so that he can still see Nick’s cast-down face.
“You’re out of there now. You can get better now, yeah? Try, for me?”
Mark says it with such a weight, a pleading at the reminder of what Nick did the day before that collision. He stares again at Nick's abdomen, coldly remembering the sensation of dripping blood on his thigh and Nick’s scream when he had to be cauterized.
Nick raises his head to stare back at him, slowly giving a nod and a small smile. Not completely happy-looking, but a smile nonetheless. Mark has to believe that it means Nick will be okay in the end.
Their silence is interrupted by another vibration on Mark’s phone. He sighs in irritation again.
“Where are you gonna go after this?”
Mark turns to Nick again at the deceivingly casual-sounding question, although he still can tell it’s a loaded one. Nick isn’t just asking where he is going to drive after seeing Nick here, but also where he is going to do his mission next.
He sighs.
“Pretty far,” he simply answers.
Nick looks down again with a frown.
“Central put together 100 new Offensive Department teams. Said it will probably be a good idea if I’m a deputy this time. But we’ll have to see from the preliminary meetings.”
Nick looks almost scared when he faces Mark again as he bites his lip.
“Where?”
Mark stays silent with his own melancholic look, the heaviness in his heart at the possibility of not seeing Nick for a long time settling deep. He doesn’t want to assume, but he senses that Nick is feeling the same about that possibility.
“North Dakota.”
“Oh,” Nick simply says, trying hard not to seem crestfallen as he fiddles with his fingers. “That’s halfway across the country from Oregon.”
“Yeah.”
They are quiet again. Mark doesn’t know what he should do or say now, with Nick not giving obvious hints as to what he wants from Mark.
“They… um…” he begins again at Nick’s silence, “…made the decision based on your story… to us before.”
Nick seems like he is working hard to not show any reaction, or even weep, but Mark can see the slightest movement of his jaw at the implication of what happened to him when he just turned 18. What was done to him before and after his attempt to escape at that time.
Maybe Mark shouldn’t have brought that up because he can sense the tension between them now, with Nick’s eyes glistening again despite his efforts to not seem affected. Mark decides to look away again to the safehouse instead.
Maybe he should end this before he makes things worse.
“You should probably go back.”
Nick follows suit by looking at the safe house, the place he is going to have to live in until whenever D.E.A.N decides he and his family can fully live as civilians again. Until they’re allowed to freely live wherever they choose with only having D.E.A.N agents check in on them once in a while, instead of watching them constantly.
“Your family must be worried sick about you. They might think you get kidnapped again.”
Nick stays looking firmly at the safe house, this time obviously trying to avoid facing Mark. He doesn’t know if Nick takes it as Mark indirectly telling Nick to go away.
He sighs quietly, mourning the gloomy and tense moment they’re in now. This is possibly the last ever moment they’re going to be together for a long time, and yet, this is the mood they’re currently in.
Eventually, Nick looks back at him with a smile that seems rough around the edge. Forced, even.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he says quietly too. “I should.”
Still, they both don’t move from leaning against Mark’s disposable car, not until a while when Mark decides to be the one to end the moment. He straightens up and faces Nick fully, so Nick slowly does the same.
“Take care of yourself,” Mark says to Nick, earnest with a hint of desperation. He feels worried now that he realizes he cannot make sure Nick will be okay with his own eyes and hands.
Nick just nods, turning around to see the safe house and then to Mark again, almost like he is debating whether he should stay or go. He still ends up taking half a step to walk away, so Mark puts his hands into his pockets to prepare to watch Nick until the heterochromatic-eyed boy is safe inside again.
But he didn’t expect Nick to turn around quickly to face him again, launching himself to Mark with arms tightly embracing him. His eyes widen in shock before he processes what is happening, feeling Nick’s face burying into his shoulder with a sensation of moisture on his clothes.
His face softens eventually, and he raises his own arms to hug Nick too. His arms are careful—gentle, but also tight around Nick’s thin body—while he is drinking in Nikolai’s presence in his arms that he knows is going to stay deeply in his mind in years to come. It will be his lifeline to tether him to Nick, at least for several months, or maybe even years.
“You stay safe too,” Nick whispers with muffled voice to his shoulder, “give me a sign once in a while that you’re still out there.”
“Nick—"
Nick pulls back quickly with almost frantic and desperate eyes, some tears visible on his cheeks while his arms are still linked behind Mark’s neck.
“I know that you’re probably not allowed to contact me directly, or be stationed close to me,” Nick quickly says, “but just try to give me hidden signs somehow.”
Nick searches his eyes, almost like he is begging Mark to say yes.
“Tell me you haven't forgotten me. That you’re still alive somewhere doing your mission.”
Mark inhales and opens his mouth to explain some protocol, but Nick doesn’t let him.
“Promise me!”
He stares at Nick, and he loathes just how easy it is for Nick to bend Mark’s emotions to his will, even right now after not seeing each other for weeks. It feels like his attachment to Nick hasn’t worn out at all throughout that. He can’t look at those teary swirly blue-brown eyes and say no. He just can’t.
So he lets out a soft breath with crumbling defense, unknowingly getting close to Nick until their foreheads touch, his arms around Nick’s waist tightening. Nick doesn’t rebuff him.
“I promise,” he eventually says, “It’s not like I can forget you.”
They stay like that for a bit, letting themselves dip their toes into that… forbidden… place for once, even if Mark knows he can’t fully jump in and stay there indefinitely.
Just once, he’ll let himself take this moment.
After a while, they both let out heavy breaths and reluctantly separate from each other, their arms letting go of each other too.
“I really need to head back home,” Nick says as if trying to sober them both up.
Mark nods again, already feeling heavy in his heart, but he still lets Nick take several steps back, looking deeply into each other’s eyes. He wants to keep the sight of those captivating swirly blue-brown eyes permanently in his memory.
Eventually, Nick turns around and jogs away, and Mark tries to gulp down at the tight feeling in his throat.
Why is it this difficult?
As if to torture him even further, Nick pauses his jogging to turn back for a second, tantalizing Marcus again with the offer he knows he cannot take. Then Nick continues jogging again before slowing down to walk away, steadfastly no longer acknowledging Mark now.
Nick’s back to Mark gets smaller and smaller until he can no longer see him unless Mark uses his binoculars again. He chooses not to. He knows he’ll get hooked again if he can see Nick clearly.
It’s only when he can tell that the small dot of Nick’s body is walking into the house—welcomed by his family again—that his logical mind finally catches up.
Regardless of what he feels right now—or even later—he knows making sure that Nick stays safe is important. He knows that taking down the people who hurt Nick before—and can hurt Nick again, if he doesn’t do his job right—is his biggest priority right now. Whether one day he can see Nick and have him by his side again or not, what matters is making sure that Nick will be safe and sound permanently, whatever he needs to do to achieve that.
So, he opens his car door as he receives the call on his phone.
“Agent Hayden speaking,” he says to the agent on the phone professionally, “Yes, I will arrive in 40, Sir.”
Now, his real work begins.
-----
Masterlist and overall summary of the whole novel is here. | AO3 series link is here.
(I) (II) (III) (IV) (V) (VI) (VII) (VIII) (IX) (X) (XI) (XII) (XIII) (XIV) (XV) (XVI) (XVII) (XVIII) (XIX) (XX) (XXI) (XXII) (XXIII) (XXIV) (XXV) (XXVI) (XXVII) (XXVIII) (XXIX) (XXX) (XXXI - END)
#whump#whumptober#whumptober2023#whump community#no.29#no.21#no.16#Troubled Past Resurfacing#Vows#Don't go where I can't follow.#OC#writing#completionist#panic attack#criminal syndicate#whumper turned caretaker#original work#OC whump#D.E.A.N#english#me#me write#finished#happy ending
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Heya! Do you think you could talk about how it would be to be on the ship of Landry in the medieval AU? Thank you!
Life on Landry’s ship, medieval AU dol
(PC is gender neutral here) Enjoy!
Like in the game, I believe Landry would openly dislike Bailey. He would make sure to disrupt Bailey’s business as much as he could and would frequently plunder the lord’s resources with his crewmen.
That’s how he meets you. A pitiful serf, malnourished. You beg for your life, but Landry isn’t here to kill you.
Serfs are useful tools for the Lord’s business and can even be sold at a good price. What would piss off Bailey more than one of his object being stolen?
That’s how you end up in Landry’s ship, new to this life of crimes. In your mind, it’s better than to be killed. Of course, you could try to escape, but could you really outsmart a bunch of pirates on their own ship? Not to mention, you have no where else to go.
Surprisingly for you, Landry isn’t harsh on you. In fact, he behaves as if you are a full member of the crew. Not need to say, you only do small tasks on the boat and don’t have a major role for now, but you are treated decently. Landry doesn’t tolerate mistreatment on his ship.
You will sleep among the crewmen, eat with them, and train yourself among them. Landry make sure you learn how to fight, as you never handled a sword before. It’s important that each member of the crew knows how to defend themselves.
Now, you’ll witness a lot of crimes happening on Landry’s ship. Despite human traffic being common at that time, you notice Landry never do it. His main pleasures revolve around thievery.
The ship is hiding in a corner, patiently waiting for a merchant’s ship to show up. You stay in the cellar for now, as the crewmen assault the enemy’s ship, but you know one day Landry will make you fight. You’re still not sure if you’ll be strong enough that day and survive.
The ship is plundered, all treasures being brought to you as you store them in the cellar. The enemy ship’s crew, those still alive at least, are tied down. You notice something else about Landry, he isn’t sadistic. He doesn’t torture the prisoners, or anything like that. He demands a ransom against the crew’s freedom, but never threaten them. Of course, being the renowned pirate he is, he manages to get his hands on the ransom.
Once all of that is over, the pirates share the plunder equally and you are surprise to find out Landry does give you your own part of the treasures.
Sometimes, Landry doesn’t target ships but the mainland. He berths the ship on a shore and goes on to plunder everything. The Lords’ resources, such as crops and furniture. This time, Landry orders you to accompany them, promising no blood will be split.
He does keep his promise. None of the crewmen or himself attack the serfs or the peasants, but they do scare them enough to make them run away. At the end of the day, you find yourself a little bit richer like the other pirates. Yes, after months of traveling with them, it has become your crew.
Sometimes, you think about your old home. Especially worry about Robin. Robin was your friend… you wonder how he is doing. You hope neither hunger or cold killed, and you pray he is still alive and in better conditions than he was last time you saw him. You also wonder about Bailey… was he mad you left? Well… were "stolen"? Probably… but how did he reacts? Did he searches for you? You know it’s better to not think too much about that.
You have a new home now, a better one. And after eleventh months, the ship berths on a land. You think it is to plunder again, but Landry reassure you that no. You won’t plunder that foreign land. A city is near the shore you berth, but the pirates don’t show any hostility. That’s where you understand: this is Landry’s terrestrial home.
The captain of the ship invites you to a local pub, promising you’ll only stay a few weeks here before leaving again to the sea. At that moment, you feel grateful leaving Bailey for Landry. Life is better now, and you find yourself smiling for the first time in years.
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The prince's hold
Aemond x Fem reader Part 3
Hello everyone this is the part 3 of the ennemies to lovers kind of "The prince's convict" that is the part 2 of "The prince's target" 👀 (everything is on my profile)
-This time Fem reader is bored, trapped in her golden prison and begs the prince to have some entertainment and go to the city but this will not really go as planned...
Warnings: incarceration, incest (uncle/niece), dacryphilia, penetration, bite, bruises, pain, degrade speech, 18+ MINORS DNI, dark, medieval-canon sexism, heavy dub-con, DD:DNE, mean Aemond, manipulation, abusing power, violence, major angst, oral sex (f and m receiving), Aemond being a possessive horny weirdo with a power complex, de spit kink, creampie... (Might forget some so please be aware).
The day after...
Just like her heart, the clouds had descended over King’s Landing, covering the sky with a thick blanket of grey.
Sometimes in her quiet moments inside his chambers, she would stare out at the outside, watching the various Lord and Ladies go about their day, wondering what their lives were like as opposed to her own.
These days, especially since Prince Aemond had taken it upon himself to torture her emotionally more regularly, frustrating her physically and emotionally, making sure she would miss him once he left after each visit. He would treat her better each day, changing the decoration green to violet, her favorite color, bringing her gifts, books, exotic fruits, cakes, delicious meals and even maids to do her hair and make up. Soon he offered her a whole wardrobe with exquises dresses and beautiful jewelries to pair them...
But this was not enough. Even tho she loved everything the prince made for her, she wanted nothing but his presence, she wanted him like this previous night.
One evening, at the prince's venue, she finally spoke to him with a softer voice, "Ameond, those gifts, it's wonderful and I loved them all but there is something. I am bored. I am about to die of boredom. Take me to the city or even the gardens, my dearest uncle,” she emphasized on the last two words, “My Prince,” she implored innocently, “Please please please!”
“Fine!” He finally declared, “But if you ever try to escape, you can forget about leaving his chamber ever again.”
“I promise I’ll behave!” She promised mischievously, her eyes twinkling with excitement, and galloped out of the oppressing chamber.
Aemond regarded her with a mix of amusement and suspicion. He was well aware of her manipulative nature and how she could use her charms to get what she wanted. Nevertheless, a small part of him couldn't resist her pleas, the way she looked up at him with those innocent eyes.
Wandering on the market of Bravoos for hours, Aemond’s hand never left the tilt of sword as he scrutinized the mass, assuring there were no Westerosi spies targeting him or his viper.
His unbearable niece, on the other hand, had much less serious matters in her head. As they strolled through the vibrant streets, she maintained her facade of naivety, pretending to be oblivious to the effect her every move had on Aemond. She skipped along, her dress swaying with each step, seemingly unaware of the gazes of admiration and desire that followed her.
She would glance back at Aemond with wide, innocent eyes, feigning confusion. "Aemond, why are people staring at us? Do I have something on my face?"
Aemond clenched his jaw, well aware of her game. He fought to conceal his growing frustration as he responded through gritted teeth, "It's nothing. Just ignore them."
The princess viper rejoiced secretly at her captor’s terribly failure of hiding his annoyance.
As they passed by a fruit vendor, her eyes gleamed mischievously. She plucked a ripe, succulent peach from the display, bringing it to her lips and taking a slow, sensual bite. The sweet juice dripped down her chin as she looked at Aemond through half-lidded eye.
"Mmm, Aemond, this peach is absolutely delicious," she murmured, her voice dripping with seduction. "Would you like a taste?" She extended the fruit towards him, her fingers glistening with its juices.
Aemond's resolve was hanging by a thread as he stared at the tantalizing sight before him. He wanted to seize the peach, to taste its sweetness and devour it along with her tempting offer.
No.
He wanted to do so much more.
He wanted to claim her lips, bite her, squeeze her, take her ruthlessly, make her scream like a common whore under broad daylight while the peasants of Bravoos watch with shock.
Clenching his fists, Aemond feigned a polite smile, “I’m good, little niece.”
She rolled her eyes as she licked her lips intentionally.
Smitten by the desirous moment, Aemond’s eye widened in horror. She was nowhere to be found.
He searched every tent of the market at no avail.
A mixture of rage, fear and vulnerability stormed in his mind.
Did he really let her little display fool him, leading to her escape?
Or worse…
Spies from his family got their hold on her.
“Have you glimpsed a maiden? Barely of age, in a white dress, hauntingly beautiful?” Aemond demanded menacingly a mid-aged trader of Pentosi silk. The woman froze in fear as she recognized the symbolic silver hair: a Targaryen.
Aemond’s worry blazed eye was covered by darkness. The shock electrified his body and his first instinct had been to cut off the hands on his eye. Yet an instant later, the worry was replaced by fury.
“Did you think I escaped, My Prince?”
Aemond turned around, rage written all over his face.
The sight before him exacerbated his storm of emotions.
Her white gown for a proper Westerosi lady gone, replaced by an exotic and tempting Dornish robe, revealing her fruitful bosom, slender shoulders and alluring curves.
“Isn’t this beautiful?” She grinned as she swirled recklessly, displaying her beguiling thighs.
With that, she bolted like a mice being chased by a ferocious cat. Did she intend to escape? Absolutely not. Her alluring laughter like a siren’s call to the dragon prince.
As she reached a glim alley, she slowed down her pace and turned to face Aemond, approaching her like a predator ready to devour its prey.
He cupped her delicious breasts, barely covered by the provocative silk, roughly, eliciting a soft whine her soft lips, “Wooh, my prince…”
Aemond grabbed the back of her delicate neck and breathed on her neck, “Are you really that eager to get fucked, hmm? Little niece?”
She tilted her head with her glimmering eyes, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her tease almost childlike, yet her hands traced down his lean and muscular chest.
“Fuck,” he growled, his leather pants stretching at his growing bulge;
With a swift move, she wrapped her arms around him and muffled his shocked curses with her lips.
“You are annoyingly attractive, uncle,” she smirked.
Instead of responding or retorting, Aemond turned her around her pressed her on the wall in an almost brutal manner.
She smiled satisfactorily and taunted, “Perhaps I am eager to get… Hmm,” she mimicked him, “Perhaps you are just too eager to fuck me, Aemond.”
A animalistic growl followed by a low chuckle echoed from her behind, “You want me to take you in front of the gods, do you?”
She turned her head to face him, grinning, “You know me, uncle. I pray to myself, for myself. I am a goddess, and you are my willing servant.”
As her last words escaped her mouth, she shrieked at the pain and pleasure accompanied by the sudden intrusion.
She already got wet just by fucking teasing me. Such a - Aemond’s thought were cut off as the word "servant" entered into his ear.
He pushed into her luscious backside without any warning.
Soon, her gasps of pain tuned into screams of pleasure.
“How is that, little viper? Are you still a goddess now?” He demanded cruelly as he spanked her hard.
Little did he know in her ears, the sharp sound on his hand and her, the relentless pounding, her own moans and his occasional growls were a symphony driving her into Seven Heavens.
“Big uncle,” she emphasized on the word “big” and arched her back, “You are so good to me. Serve me harder.”
Aemond longed to ruin her, yet he knew she wanted to be ruined.
He increased his pace, his hands coming down on her again and again.
He whispered the most sinful and degrading things he could think off.
Everything exacerbated her excitement.
It both infuriated and satisfied him.
“Scream louder, my little viper, mine!”
And scream his name she did.
Aemond panted in satisfaction and exhaustion as he smirked at the mess he created.
But suddenly he stopped everything and displayed a face of chock as well as shame. "I will not fuck you here like a vulgar hoe on the sidewalk! I refuse to degrade you in such ways, I already did too much here. Let's go home. You saw enough of the city for today!"
She stopped right away her little game, surprised at the sight of the prince's behaviour, so serious and yet so reasoned. He valued her, she understood that behind his pride and lust towards her, the prince really estimated her. She was not just a toy anymore or a property, he had feelings for her as complex as hers.
"You deserve better than this my lady", he added while he took her by the hand to walk back to the castle...
Once there the prince brought her into his apartments before leaving without a word but it was clear that he was replaying the latest events over and over again in his head. Alone now, she would also think about the latest events and her attitude toward the prince. Maybe her provocative manners was no good and should not be taken so lightly but she couldn't help but desire the prince. She longed for his coming every night and came to ask him to stay a little longer each visit to such an extent that they exchanged more and more regularly, getting closer and closer each time. They became to share dinner sometimes, he taught her High Valyrian, read to her but everytime the tension began to show the prince ran away even tho he wished to stay, he didn't wanted to do any mistakes again... She almost came to the point of asking the prince to sleep with her but she knew it would have seemed inappropriate, which was for sure. She felt so alone without him. More! she began to like him despite her hate and hatred and now she wanted him.
It was obvious Aemond started catching mixed feelings towards her too during those visits, she was no longer his stupid prey, a property or a way to anger the Blacks, he liked her despise her viper manipulative and provocative attitude, she satisfied him as well as she frustrated him. He knew he couldn't marry her, as a prince of the realm, and on the verge of civil war, once his father passed, Aemond needed to secure an advantageous marriage with a powerful house, one that would increase their army numbers. She was an ennemy to his family and an menace. Regardless of his affection for her: duty comes first. That is what his mother taught him. Under different circumstances, perhaps it could've worked out, she were not a lowborn, but her position was worst than that.
Aemond could be a cruel man, yes, but never with her. She have found her way into his heart a long time ago this particular night and maybe way before that... He couldn't be selfish and hold her back because of his desires because he also knew she needed to marry soon.
"You might do well to find yourself a suitor." He said in between two readings, you were straddling his lap on the sofa of his quarters, grinding on his bulge slightly, his breath stuttering as he held onto your waist.
She pulled away, with furrowed brows, swollen lips, and lustful eyes. The sight was almost too much for Aemond to bear. "What?"
"You heard me." Shadows danced across his face and you believed Aemond bathed by the candlelight was undoubtedly one of the finest views you have ever seen.
You hummed, a habit you picked up because of him, and then smirked. "Are you trying to get rid of me?" Your breath encountered his neck making him have chills.
Aemond squirmed underneath you, holding your arms as he gently pushed you away. "I am not jesting," His expression was stern. "We cannot keep this going for longer, I have to go for affairs because of the war." She broke down internally. He then grabbed her arms, leaning his face closet to hers "I'll write to you and maybe when I'll return we'll discuss serious topics, it will also give us the time to think about the situation, right?" He kissed her cheeks softly making her blush right away. "I won't lock the door this time, if you want to escape, I won't stop you, you're free little bird" he then left her more frustrated and lonely than ever. It was obvious she wouldn't even try to escape. She was his.
The days were so long without any companies and only him to think about but every day she would receive letters from the prince and would take many hours to answer him. They exchanged many letters through what seemed to be a week... Their discussions were stricts and serious at first only mentioning Aemond's missions but became more and more personal day after day even sharing their feelings, speaking openly about missing each other company as well as being bored by everything around them. The day before Aemond's return, the princess seeking desperately their reunion, she wrote a letter a bit more special... She proposed him to meet at midnight in the garden to maybe discuss the serious topics he mentioned... It was a risky letter and she knew it could be decisive as well as she knew she could not help being obsessed with him and needed to see him again, to meet him again, to be close again, closer.
This particular day, it seems like the princess had been waiting all the evening for the prince's letter. It was becoming to be dark outside and she was worried, overthinked for hours, but nothing came. A letter finally slipped down her door. She ran to picked it up and read it as fast as she could. "Dear niece, I know you hate to stay in this room all day locked up, come find me in the garden at midnight. The doors are unlocked. Make sure you're not followed or seen. I can't wait to see you."
And then she reached her breaking point. She sneaked out of her bed in the middle of the night to join him in the garden, she didn't even thought to escape a second. She paced around the room, ran the corridors and stairs of the castle... Now in the garden fidgeting with the sleeve of her cloak as she waited for Aemond. She had no clue he'd actually would come or not. Certainly, now that the war broke out, he had more urgent matters to attend to, so was she being selfish for wanting and almost demanding him? Absolutely, but so was he when he didn't let her go and kidnapped her, so was he enticing her with filthy letters and making her sin even more for him.
The crack of a stick of wood made her blood rush in her veins, breath stuck in her throat as she turned around. There he stands, in all his haughtiness, even when he's almost all covered with his cloak, he pulls the hood down, smirking at her. There's only silence as she watch him slowly take off the cloak and throw it on a bank. She lick her lips as she take in his leather clothing, then he proceeds to remove his worn and brown eyepatch, the one he would only use to run around King's Landing undetected. Her eyes trail his body hungrily, the glistening gemstone only making the knot in her stomach tighten. It's truly almost painful the sight of him, having him so close, and completely alone. She can ghostly feel his touch and smell already, and her heart hammers against her ribcage. She approach him under his amused gaze.
"I know you are up to no good to bring me to such a place at the hour of the owl," Aemond says as she halt in front of him.
"You are correct." She glance at his curved lips for a second before locking her eyes with his violet one again.
"Have you enjoyed my letters?"
"Greatly, the same amount I despised it as well." Aemond scoffs. "What happened to our terms?"
She take a great inspiration "This is not right and you know it Aemond but I feel things that I should not and I think you do too despise our condition..."
Aemond smirks "you're right, you should not feel those things..."
She can't help the snicker falling off her lips as she hits his chest playfully. "Stop making me feel more guilty than I already do!"
Aemond hums, raising a brow. "Not guilty enough to stop you from answering my letters or coming here late at night." She avert her eyes.
"It 's alright. Did we once follow the traditions? Do you believe the Seven thought of us as fewer sinners when we engaged in sexual activities before marriage because we were unwed?" He grabs your chin. "Do not be ashamed. You are mine and can't resist me. You and I are meant to be, we are more than a mere convenient marriage. Ain't I too supposed to be faithful to my duty and my family?"
"Have you enjoyed my letters?"
"I keep them all." He answers, leaning his face closer to hers. Her knees almost fail her as she inhale his scent of leather, sandalwood, and bergamot. "Have you missed me as I missed you, my beautiful girl?"
"Possibly even more." You confess.
"Tell me why you invited me here, I need to hear it from your pretty mouth." His thumb trails over her lower lip.
"I was expecting you to keep to your word." She tease.
He chuckles. "That would take days."
"Certainly you can arrange some time for a close friend…"
His good eye seemed to glimmer as much as the sapphire replacing the other. "Will this be an occurrence?"
She fidget with the button of his tunic. "It seems we cannot keep apart from each other, so I would guess so." She look into his eye.
"Mhm." His arm sneaks around her waist, bringing her even closer to his body, and she place her hands on his shoulders. "You haven't said it yet." He tilts his head.
She breathed in and gulped. "I brought you here because I want you to fuck me, I need you to fuck me."
Aemond smiled, actually smiled. Most certainly smugly, but he displayed all of his teeth in his adorable grin, and she loved to see it, a smile appears on her face as well, almost unconsciously just by seeing him smiling.
"As my lady wishes."
It's blazing when their lips meet, not loving or gentle, but rather fervent and harsh. She moan into his mouth when his tongue touches hers, and all guilt leaves her at once. At that moment everything that wasn't Aemond ceased to exist, as it always happened when she were with him, she only cared for his touch. The time apart made it even better, the leather beneath her fingers comforting. His other hand goes to the back of her head, and she continues to kiss him eagerly, her body trembling even with so little stimulation. She bites his lips as she parts slightly for air, and then their mouths are locked again. The kiss slows down a bit, becoming more appreciative as both of them delight in the exchange and each other's taste, but it remains just as lustful.
Aemond swiftly takes her cloak off and she struggles off her shoes, the prince does the same. She helps Aemond out of his tunic after she is done and his undershirt goes flying across the garden. She touch his toned abdomen before her lips find his chest and neck, the low groan coming from Aemond stirring her up, her mouth trails down as she kiss all of his stomach, kneeling down in front of him. Aemond looks at her in anticipation as she undo his belt and pulls his trousers down, the leather a little too tight. Once his veiny and semi-hard cock springs free, her mouth starts watering. She don't take her eyes off it as she strokes it with her hand, making Aemond gasp loudly, her eyes darken, even the smell of his manhood tantalizing her. He's definitely above average, straight, long, and thick enough to give the best stretch without making her uncomfortable, with large veins running through the base and a pinkish tip. She can't help herself as she insert his head in her mouth with a loud pop, he tastes so divine. She smirk at him as he let out a strained moan, her tongue then sliding across his slit. Aemond's hand grips her hair with a decompensated breath.
She start kissing and licking around his shaft attentively, tongue flat while savoring it and purposely teasing him more before she stroke his cock a few more times and proceed to put half of his length in her mouth, Aemond trembles upon feeling her hot and soft lips around him, a growl escaping his mouth. "Oh, fuck, yes. You look so beautiful, my dear."
Her cheeks hollowed, head bobbing back and forth as she sucked him into her mouth, humming against his member, the sensation of pleasuring him way too good, and tears start to prickle her eyes. She keep fisting his cock and lapping on him relentlessly, even when she pulls him out, her lips keep locked on his part, tongue running around the length as she licks it before she swallows him again, the fullness of her mouth making her grow even wetter. She looks up at him as she gag on his cock, mouth squeezing his manhood as she sucks him hungrily, his head is thrown back, brows furrowed and pink lips parted, his good eye half-closed while the sapphire sparkles bright, it's the most wonderful sight one could lay eyes on. His grunts become more prominent as he lets her lead, she can feel her cunt throbbing almost achingly now. She gives him all the devotion she can master through it, her other hand gently massaging his balls and receiving the most delightful sound in return.
She smirks at him, taking him out of her mouth sloppily once again to catch her breath, his cock coated with her saliva, she slaps it on her face before sucking it again as if her life depends on it. He was so addicting.
"By the Gods," He mutters with a grunt.
It's when she quicken her pace that it feels as if something quite feral snapped inside Aemond. He started to grow impatient and jerked his hips against her face, his closed fist on her hair more harsh and demanding, his pace becomes so brutish now that she stops stroking him, both her hands laying on his bare thigh for support, her nails digging deeply into his skin as she moans, no doubt bruising it later. It is impossible to fit all of his length in her mouth, but Aemond is certainly determined to do so, a flow of hot tears fall down her eyes as he fucks her mouth, her throat burning with the invasion. It's dirty, uncomfortable, and absolutely ecstatic. Aemond does not care for her whines or her gagging one bit now, he only cares for his enjoyment and release and she is more than happy to assist him with it. Lewdy sounds echo in the air as his tip hits the back of her throat mercilessly. She pushes his thigh as she pulls back for air, her appearance disheveled.
"Come on my face, please." She says out of breath, a split of saliva hanging between his cock and her mouth as she strokes his length rapidly and suck his head again.
The sight below him accompanied by her words are enough to send Aemond on edge, and with a high-pitched moan, his hot load hits her face, painting a few parts of it white, she sticks her tongue out while so and shut her eyes as her hand continues to caress him. She smiles, swallowing his spend that fell on her tongue and gathering the amount that landed on her face.
"So good," she praises him, licking her fingers clean. "So fucking good." She gives his head another lick, making him whine due to sensitivity.
She giggles and get up, Aemond immediately tasting himself on her lips in a messy and lecherous kiss. Lowering himself to her feet the prince grabs the ends of her dress and removes it anxiously. Her choice of dress was a very simple and easy to take off one, and she didn't bother to wear a shift underneath tonight either, aware of the sinful activities she planned to indulge in, leaving her completely bare now. Aemond stares at her nakedness with a pleasant hum and blown eye. Out of breath he says, "We need to go somewhere else for now on" as he picked her up all the way to his quarters.
"Go to bed and spread your legs for me." He commands as he discards her dress somewhere.
When her back hits the bed, she immediately opens her legs to him, hand provocatively touching her breasts, there's no shyness, only a burning desire to be seen by him. She bites her lips as she notices how his violet eye has turned almost all black now. He fists his cock a couple of times at the sight of her, one he wishes to never forget.
He makes his way toward the bed, kneeling in front of her. Bringing her body forward, he leaves a trail of kisses on her inner thighs, which makes her shudder. "I have longed for this sweet cunt so much…"
His middle finger parts her folds, gathering her juice next to her hole and then coming back up to circle her sensitive bud. She moans with the touch, brows furrowed and lifting her hips slightly, and she can hear Aemond chuckling. "So wet for me it's pitiful, truly." He continues to touch her teasingly, fingers pressed tightly to her heat as he runs it around. She can only hums in response, already lost in her pleasure, she feels completely on fire.
"Do you know why?" He moves his hand away, pressing his lips to her clit in a light kiss and making her whimper with the action. "Because it knows it belongs to me." He spits on her cunt crudely before immediately lapping on it, her back arching involuntarily as her moans get louder.
His warm tongue twirls between her folds slowly, making her whimper and bite her lips harshly, it feels like a dream, her face immediately twists in pleasure as shivers run down her spine with the sensation of his lips on her sex. Aemond sucks her clit, making her gasp, her hands going to his silky hair as she presses his face even further in her cunt. Aemond's tongue slides all over her pussy as he sucks and licks her as if it was the air that he breathed. He closes his eye for a second, groaning lowly against her parts due to his own enjoyment.
His tongue teases her hole before coming back up to suck harshly on her sensitive bud unabated, she watches him with hooded eyes, his name on her lips like a prayer.
He continues lapping on her, one of his hands holding her cunt open to give him better access. "You're doing so good, my beauty."
He spits on her one more time, mouth devouring her sex. He easily inserts two fingers into her soaked cunt, and she cannot control the sounds that leave her lips anymore. He curls his fingers inside her as his tongue whirls on her clit, his pumping speeding up as she jerks her hips against his face and hand. It's so exceptional, his long fingers reaching a place she cannot on her own. In an urge to grab something, one of her hands squeezes her breast as she whimpers uncontrollably. She opens her eyes to see he's already looking directly at her as his tongue moves side to side on her. She bites herr lips so hard it draws blood.
Getting up on her elbows, she watches as he gives her long licks up and down, then twirls it around her bud again and sucks into his mouth, his fingers inside her not faltering, she relishes in the stimulation on both her core and clit, making her eyes roll back as not one coherent thought crosses her mind. She feels goosebumps all over her skin and pathetic gibberish leaves her mouth. Aemond continues to work her on, his darting and thrusting getting faster and making her moans break. She can feel her release building up on her lower belly as she shuts her eyes, cunt clenching tightly around his fingers, and she is so ready for it, to let it go and cry in pleasure, she is close, so close… and he stops, pulling away.
She looked at him with a mixture of confusion, anger, and frustration. He chuckled at her, licking the fingers that were inside her seconds ago.
"I need you to sit on my face."
Her stomach tingles upon hearing his words and she can only nod, moving aside so he could lay on the bed. When Aemond is settled, she straddles his face, holding onto the cool headboard and being careful as to not put all of her weight on him, she lowers her cunt to his mouth, immediately gasping when she does so. Aemond holds on to her upper thighs tightly, keeping her in place and moaning into her heat as he starts licking her fervently once again.
She can't help herself as she grinds and rolls her hips on his mouth, hands pinching her nipples as her pace quickens. Aemond doesn't leave an inch of her cunt out of his affections, sucking her hard as he groans against her in delight. When his tongue started to make circles with a lot of pressure onto her cunt, she is moaning so loud she is certain the whole inn could hear her, but that was far from being a concern to her. She needs to hold on to the headboard again, knuckles whitening with the force she puts on it. His name is on her lips as a mantra now as she bounces on him, her stomach churning and feeling dizzy. Then, his tongue is all around her again, relaxed and hot as he works his magic with purpose.
She keeps her eyes locked on Aemond the whole time, the sight of him under her and satisfying her desires only adding more intensity to her pleasure. He looks so pretty and alluring like this, his adorable lips so keen to make her happy, eating her out so well and good, she bites her lips again while smiling down at him, she grinds more relentlessly now, not even trying to be careful, the feel of his mouth paired with the faint brush of his chin and the tip of his nose on her cunt is the best thing she has ever experienced.
Her high comes down abruptly and feels like a million stars exploding at once, a long scream on her lips. Her head falls back, black dots covering her vision as her legs tremble. She cried as Aemond continued to lap on her sensitive cunt, kissing it multiple times after. Admirably her legs didn't fail her and she managed to get off his face, body falling limp on the bed. The ceiling above them is spinning as her heart palpitates in her ears. It takes a minute for her breath to stabilize, and when she looks to her side she sees Aemond grinning, chin glistening with her juices and they both laugh at each other out of bliss.
Aemond moves to hover over her, his mouth finding hers in a long and deep kiss, her legs wrap around his waist as one of his hands squeezes her breast before cradling her face. Their lips move harmoniously together, tongues caressing one another. It's so soothing, she feels so at peace and so light, just as the sound of the wind passing through the trees. There is no rush, only long kisses and pecks, hooded eyes, and silly little smiles. It's not sexual, it's not innocent, it's two people taking their time with each other. She lost track of time in her consuming passion, too occupied in the sheer joy of the prince's soft lips and naked body pressed against hers.
Slowly but as expected, the kisses start to grow needier, her breathing becoming erratic and her womanhood pulsating. Her grind against Aemond's stiffness and he sighs deeply, his mouth moving to her neck as he sucks and bites in her sensitive spot making her shiver, trailing down to her breast, he puts one in his mouth, twirling his tongue around her nipple. He pulls back a little, holding his hard cock and running it between her folds before he calmly and gently slides into her.
Her eyes close with the feeling, the stretch his girth gives is simply extraordinary and so fulfilling. She starts whimpering as he settles in between her legs, nothing and no one else could make her feel this way, to reach that specific point. Her cunt clenched tight around him, he's so big and it feels amazing.
"Fuck, sweet thing," He breathes out. "You feel even tighter than the last time."
He starts to thrust on her slowly, and her eyes roll back again, gasping loudly as she relishes the feel of his cock inside her, so marvelous. Aemond lets his face fall on the crook of her neck, to feel her soft walls around him an absolute blessing in his opinion, his moans are so low if she was a little bit louder yourself she wouldn't be able to hear him.
"So good…" she moans, she has missed this way too much.
"Mhm, yes, very good." He holds onto her hips strongly and her legs parts even further.
He starts to go even deeper, his hip finding a steady pace that makes her feel as if she is flying. His grunts become loud, and his hand leans her leg up to her chest as he starts to pound on her more fastly now. "Fucking perfection. You are so perfect."
She holds her leg up to help him, already a moaning mess. The cracky bed hits the wall repeatedly and she is sweating a lot, her hair sticking to her forehead. It is such a great sensation she is torn between seeking her peak and wanting it to last forever, to feel him inside her forever. It seems Aemond feels the same, because now and then when the prince believes her or himself to be close, he'd stay still inside her, completely out of breath, and hold a few seconds before starting again, a few strands of his silver locks falling into her face as he does so.
His lips wrap around hers messily, tongues locked as he keeps thrusting and grunting. His familiar scent, a cologne custom-made because he is just that snob, mixed with his sweat turns her on even more.
He parts from her for a minute, kneeling on the bed and then turning her around with impressive force and grace, her back instantly arching for him while the side of her face is pressed to the mattress. She can hear him chuckle before he slaps her ass hard, and she whines, core clenching.
"You little whore," He presses the tip of his cock to her entrance and she wiggles. "My perfect little whore."
He thrust into her cunt, the new position making her euphoric, and she started to meet him at his pace, she whimpers almost pitiful. Aemond's hand grips her ass, his shoving only quickening by the second, he laughs a bit seeing her eagerness, and then he halts, letting her do the work for a while. He stares at his cock disappearing inside her cunt with a wicked glint in his eye and he masters all of his self-control to not go feral.
"Yes, yes, yes," He encourages. "You're so good at this, gorgeous. Keep on taking my cock like the sweet whore you are, oh yes."
His words make her groan, core tightening around him as her movements grow faster and harder, so much his cock slips out of her cunt once, but she is quick to insert it into her dropping hole again, the wetting sounds of skin against skin nothing but obscene. Aemond watches with a smirk the way her parts are milking him, hands caressing and squeezing her butt as she leans back on his length.
Soon he takes control again, starting to thrust on her aggressively and steadily. She screamz, the rattle of the bed growing even more strident now, and she becomes a babbling mess, biting into her hand to try to prevent her loud moans from being heard, a tear falling from the corner of one of her eyes. Aemond laughs amusedly.
"Oh my, you love this, don't you?"
"Y-y-yes," she stutters, brows furrowed, fist tight on the linen sheet.
"Fuck, you are heavenly," Aemond says. "And all mine."
"Muhm," she agrees. "All yours, only yours."
He slaps the cheek of her ass again. "My princess," His paces become faster. "My fucking queen." He leans down, lips kissing her cheek.
In a blink of an eye, she is on her back again, Aemond's managing her body too easily. She brings both her legs up as he inserts his manhood into her, his hand wrapping around her neck as he thrust into her ruthlessly.
She can only moan, holding onto anything she can grasp, it's almost too much and she feels completely wobbly, it feels as if he was made in the most perfect size to send her to the seven heavens and back. His cock hits her cervix unrelenting, his fist tightening around her neck until she can barely breathe, the lack of air only increasing her pleasure, and then…
The coil inside her snaps in a shattering wave, her whole body shaking. It's as if she had left her body entirely and were floating around, her vision whitening and audition failing you. When she comes back to her senses, Aemond is grunting lowly and thrusting into her, her cunt wrapping around his cock amazingly, with a husky and strained moan, his face twists in pleasure, eye shut and mouth agape as he spills his white tea deep inside her, filling her up and she moans just by watching him. His thrusts get sloppier and weaker as he rides off his high until his body falls on top of hers, with hitched breath and trembling slightly. She smiles, one hand caressing his hair and the other his back, his skin feels almost burning under her touch.
She feels suddenly exhausted, and all she wishes to do is close her eyes and succumb to slumber. Aemond looks up at you as if guessing the line of your thoughts: the prince was accustomed to you getting sleepy after your passionate activities.
"You may sleep, my beloved," His knuckle brushed against her cheek.
She smiled softly at him and nodded. He got off her, and they both wrapped themselves with the thin blanket. She rested her face on Aemond's chest, one leg over his body. The prince hugged her closer, caressing her back and her thigh. He sighed contently.
As they quickly fall asleep, Aemond stares at her, the crickets outside the small window and the cackling of the fire are the only noises reaching his ears. He smiles pleased upon her sleeping form, realizing no matter marriage or time, this is where she will always belong: with him, in his bed, in his arms, where her heart truly lies.
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ToG Read-A-Long, Empire of Storms, day….
(I am a little bit behind, but I’ll catch up)
Here are my notes for the first 11 chapters
Ch 1 “Lorcan breathed it in, allowing his Fae senses - the senses he'd inherited from his prick of a father”
LORCAN TOO? There’s literally no such thing as an SJM man without daddy issues
Ch 2
I’ll just try to be less annoyed, because I feel like this is what I’m gonna get, for now, from Aelin and Rowan. Just those heat filled glances, growling, toe curling, and copious amount of desire and lust for each other. Without a bed or any place to consummate, and with too much pride to do it against a tree. Or in a pool.
(This is fine.)
Ch 3
Manon! I’m obsessed with you my love!
Are you gonna make out with Dorian? What are you gonna do?
Ch 4
I kind of had a good time with Darrow and the meeting. It’s kind of nice for once for the stakes to be boiled down to bureaucracy and classism and political intrigue, as opposed to magic and demons and the worst kind of evil bad intense intensity. Idk, I’m kind of into it.
Like obviously I think he sucks and I kind of hate how mean he was to, well, all of them
But it’s just kind of a breath of fresh air for the “bad guy” to be like, politically opposing them, instead of literally possessed by a demon trying to take over the world.
I also think, even though Aelin is, and should be recognized as Queen, it’s valid to question her authority - and her ability to rule - since she’s only a young queen after all. She hasn’t really demonstrated that she can govern. There’s a difference between being a powerful warrior and being the leader of a nation.
I just think this chapter was super interesting, and I’m glad SJM went there.
Ch 5
“She had laughed once at Dorian - laughed and scolded him for admitting that the thought of marriage to anyone but his soul-bonded was abhorrent. She'd chided him for choosing love over the peace of his kingdom.”
She DID do that, didn’t she!
I remember because I was like, Dorian’s so cute, how he wants to marry someone he loves, but that’s a very 19-year-old-man thought. I thought back then that she was arguing for her own choice to make out with Dorian because she didn’t think they would ever be sanctioned to marry. Listen, I believe in love, and I believe it matters, but I also beleive in getting married for other reasons. ESPECIALLY if you’re in a royal family in medieval times.
“She should have cherished them more - those happy, calm, boring moments on the road.
Should have savored each second they were all together, all safe.”
How come i didn’t get to read about any happy, calm, boring moments on the road!
I like happy, calm, boring moments!
I like Fleetfoot!
Idk - I kind of do hope that she gets to prove Darrow wrong.
Also I hope Evangeline is ok
Ch 6
I feel so bad for Dorian!!!
He’s so alone. He has no family, and no friends! No one! And he has to deal with the stress of coronation, idk, I just feel like that would be hard on a person at the best of times and here he is just going through it while trying to be a man again.
Hopefully these witches are here to make out with him instead of make his life worse.
Ch 7
Nope, it doesn’t seem that way
Lol MANON what are you waiting for! Can’t you see our boy is hard up for a small little inkling of soft love and tenderness! He’s so sick of all this heartbreak and sorrow! I’m sick of it, too!
Wow this chapter has so much murder! So much action!
Rowan’s here too! That was fast!
Hello Rowan! Come to the rescue I see! Good for you, Dorian needs a friend very badly right now.
Ch 8
“These past weeks of travel had been torture -
the need to claim her, taste her, driving him out of his wits. And given what Darrow had said ... perhaps, despite his promise when he'd left, it had been a good thing that they had not taken that final step.”
Yeah, no, I do not agree
She’s not a broodmare whose only use is to be married off to make babies, and she’s not a virgin whose only value is in her “purity”. What difference does it make if she chooses to take a lover? Even if they use archaic methods like examining her genitals for “proof of virginity” Rowan would STILL be in the clear, because she had at LEAST one lover before him… so….
This guy is starting to piss me off, lol
I know he’s just being mopey because he’s in love
But STOP IT
She loves you, too
I’ve had it up to HERE with this nonsense
Can you two please just learn to be happy and be in love. The angst is not doing it for me.
Ch 9
Elide and Lorcan vs weird creatures!
Girl I bet you miss Manon so much.
(I miss her too)
Ch 10
"Why travel with me at all?”
"There are more details regarding Morath's interior that I want from you. I'll keep you from danger, and you'll provide them for me.”
Hell yeah. Best friends road trip!
(in the Shrek and Donkey way) (they’re gonna start off annoyed by each other and slowly develop into best friends on this road trip) (y’know)(like Shrek and Donkey)
(Elide is the Donkey)
Ch 11
Hell yeah, Manon saved Petrah one time, that makes her thoughtful as well as beautiful.
I can’t believe her grandmother has it so bad out for Asterin!
WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER!
Let’s all band together and kill the three matrons. Seriously. What good have they ever done us, they just like to make life worse!
I for one am ready for life to start getting BETTER!
#tog read along 2023#empire of storms#I’m behind and it’s my own fault#I’ll catch up tomorrow because it’s my day off
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There's Something About Kate (Cillian Murphy X fem!OC)
Follow up to The Heartache.
For those who didn't read it... Cillian's wife, Lucy, passed away from cancer a year ago. He hasn't worked since, concentrating on raising their 9 year old daughter Ava. Kate was their Macmillan nurse, and also lost her husband six years ago to the same disease. They've reconnected recently, having had a couple of dates. Lots of you said you wanted more, so this story follows their blossoming relationship. For reference, Cillian is 30 in this story.
Masterlist
Warnings - mentions of characters deaths (not Cillian or Kate) / fluff / eventual smut (not yet)
Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton @jardinsecos @bitchwhytho @gypsy-girl-08 @queenofkings1212
Kate sat on the small stool in her bedroom and winced while her best friend and flatmate Nina pulled and twisted her hair.
"If you don't keep still, I'll shave it all off!" Nina snapped, smacking Kate's shoulder playfully.
"I asked for a French Plait, not a form of medieval torture!!"
"Do you want to look good for your date or not?!"
She sat on the stool in silence, gritting her teeth and allowing the torture to continue.
"It's just dinner, Nina.."
"Oh shut up. It's a date and you know it."
"It's two friends catching up over a plate of hot food and a glass of wine!"
"Exactly. A date."
Two weeks earlier, Kate had dinner with Cillian and Ava at his house, after bumping into them in the cemetery earlier that week. Ava had stolen much of the conversation, and Cillian had invited her back, but her work schedule was relentless. It had taken until tonight to be able to plan anything with him, but they'd messaged back and forth almost daily. And to say the messages had been slightly flirtatious would be an understatement. She felt like a teenager again.
She'd only dated twice since Jack's death six years earlier, it had taken her nearly five years to come to terms with his loss. Her last relationship, which in all honesty was more of a fling than anything else, had ended a few days prior to that chance meeting in the cemetery. He was a dick, and only interested in one thing - he led her on, had his way with her, then disappeared. All in the space of just three weeks.
Not this time, she promised herself. Slowly. Take it slowly.
An hour later, she made her way inside the restaurant. Telling the concierge her name, he led her towards a table at the side of the room, where she found him sitting inside a small booth. Glass of wine in one hand and his phone in another, pressed against his ear. She approached the table and he ended the call, standing up and giving her a gentle hug, she blushed as he kissed her cheek softly.
"Ava," he chuckled, putting his phone in his pocket.
"Checking up on her old man?" Kate laughed, sitting opposite him.
"Cheeky. Yep. She's been nagging me all day. Wash your hair. Wear the expensive aftershave. Don't forget to floss."
"And did you follow her instructions?"
"Always do, she terrifies me," he laughed, and Kate couldn't help but feel her heart jump a little.
The two of them talked. At no point during the meal did the conversation falter. No awkward silences. They talked about books, movies, her job, his job, Ava... And it felt comfortable.
He offered to walk her home, her house was only a short walk and he lived not much further after. He had his hands in his jeans pockets, and he offered her the gap between his elbow and ribs. Smiling, she slotted her arm through the gap and they walked side by side.
"Can I ask you a question?" Cillian asked, after a brief silence.
"Of course."
"How long did you wait, after Jack?"
"About five years."
She felt him tense, and look away over the river. Squeezing his arm, she stopped him and turned him to face her. Her hands now stroking his arms.
"Listen, Cillian, everyone is different. It took me that long because I had to rebuild my life again. I had to sell the house, move back home, work out a new plan." He nodded, feeling her hands move down to hold his.
"I like you, Kate, I really do. I just.. I feel like I'm cheating on her, you know?"
"I like you, too. And that's normal. I still feel like that about Jack sometimes."
"Have you done this with anyone else?" Kate nodded.
"Recently actually. But he was a prick... Only wanted me for one thing and fucked me off after he got it."
"Shit..."
"Yep, he was actually," Cillian chuckled at the swipe at your ex.
"For what it's worth, I'm not like that." Kate simply nodded. She believed him, but she was in no hurry to test the theory.
"What, shit in bed?" Kate laughed as she watched his cheeks burn.
"Holy fuck, no, I mean..." She watched him struggle for a few moments before nudging him playfully, linking her arm back into his and continuing their walk.
He listened to her hum a gentle tune as they walked and admired the Liffey. He recognised the melody, but couldn't place it, and there was no way he was interrupting her to find out what it was. It soothed him, somehow.
"This is me..." Kate unlinked her arm from his and looked up at the two-storey townhouse. Cillian's hands stayed in his pockets, suddenly completely unaware of what to do. What to say. He was back in the shoes of a teenager again... Although he was sure it was easier back then. Kate sensed his nerves, and took the lead.
"I had fun tonight, Cillian. Thank you." She squeezed his arm and gave him a smile, which he returned. She stroked the side of his face, and turned around to head up the steps to her front door.
She looked back a couple of times and saw him still stood there. The third time she looked back though, she nearly screamed as he was stood right in front of her, on her doorstep.
"I'm sorry, I just - " he paused, seeing her startled expression. Instead of finishing his sentence, he kissed her. Not a full kiss. Their lips simply met softly, his fingers stroked her cheek gently. He pulled away after a few moments, smiled, and headed back down the steps.
Turning around at the bottom, he looked back up and smiled to see she was still there, smiling right back at him.
#cillian murphy#cillian smut#cillian fanfic#cillian x fem oc#cillian x oc#cillian x fem!reader#cillian murphy x smut#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian murphy x requests#cillian murphy x reader
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nct 127 as royals [18+]
♔ kingdoms + empires ♖
this has got to be one of my favorite scenarios so far. ive put together a little something for the people who are obsessed with the royal + medieval times. let me know which kingdom or empire you’re in! enjoy, xoxo 
empire of
❅ ELPIDA ❅
colors: yellow + gold
moto: “be delicate like a flower, hopeful like an angel.”
your position: the page ☾❀|❀☽
cares for the royal clothing
assist with dressing the royals
pick out ball gowns and attire for royal dances/weddings
emperor taeyong’s trustee: <<doyoung>>
shields you from witnessing illegal matters
protects you from unexpected dangers
accompanies you to royal fittings
his secret: you are his mistress. he comes to you whenever he’s feeling vulnerable and weak. you’ve been sleeping with the emperor for a few months now and you’re starting to fall in love with him. you want to admit your feelings to him but you know that he’ll never leave the empress just for a page.
sexual desire: <<blindfolding/handcuffing>>
look at you- tied up and blinded. now, i can explore your body without interruptions.
empire of
✤ IRIS ✤
colors: emerald green + white
moto: “listen to the gods- they will never lead you wrong.”
your position: the physician ☤
in charge of the royals health
partake in surgical procedures
assist in healing the wounded knights
emperor taeil’s trustee: <<taeyong>>
supplies you with out of country medicine
shows you how to make potions
provides you with illegal knives to perform difficult surgeries
his secret: emperor taeil is planning on poisoning the empress. with your help, along with his trustee- he is ending his arranged marriage, that he never wanted to be apart of. with her gullible attitude, the empress believes you are no harm. little does she know, that you are the one who will witness her last breath.
sexual desire: <<submission>>
tell daddy how much you love it when he makes you feel helpless.
empire of
ᕯ IPHIOS ᕯ
colors: cream + brown
moto: “show no mercy, show no fear.”
your position: the squire ⚘
apprentice to the knights
witnesses training for battles
eyes and ears of the empire
emperor johnny’s trustee: <<jaehyun>>
teaches you secret death pressure points
reveals all hidden secrets of the knights
shows you secret passage ways through the castle
his secret: he’s cheating on the empress with a queen from another kingdom. somehow, you ended up being his second mistress- landing the position of the squire, by promising to protect his secret from the knights- who are ordered to kill the queen mistress per the empress. although the empress has knowledge of emperor johnny cheating on her, she had no idea about you. and you and emperor johnny will keep it that way.
sexual desire: <<master/slave>>
you follow directions so well, don’t you? master will have his way with you and you’ll behave- like a good little slave, won’t you?
kingdom of
❈ THPHIC ❈
colors: peach + silver
moto: “all that is gold, shall be silver.”
your position: the watchman ✇
watches over the castle
report suspicious behavior
create safety tactics
king yuta’s trustee: <<jungwoo>>
supplies you with foreign bombs
helps you plan stakeouts
provides you with secret information about other kingdoms
his secret: his mother was a servant to his royal father. his blood is not complete royalty. you and jungwoo are the only ones who know his secret- the two of you protect it with your lives. every now and then, you and king yuta will sleep together- as a thank you for keeping his secret.
sexual desire: <<public sex>>
and while everyone is watching, you’d be screaming my name- begging me for more.
kingdom of
✵CHARMOLIPIL ✵
colors: black + burgundy
moto: “never let them see your weak side- show them what they will fear.”
your position: the messenger ∺
relays messages from the king to other kingdoms
witness court trials
bring threatening news to the knights attention
king doyoung’s trustee: <<taeil>>
provides you with weapons that you aren’t licensed to have
helps you falsify information to threaten other kingdoms
supplies you with poison potions
his secret: you witnessed him kill his father so he could take over the kingdom. king doyoung has demanded you be the messenger, running to other kingdoms to let them know that the king is finally dead. he uses you as his secret weapon- having secret late night meeting with you, informing you of your weekly work. as these meeting progress through the months, you start to slowly fall in love with him- letting him know that you’ll do anything to keep his secret and to cover him. the king is slowly catching feelings for you but won’t show his true feelings just yet.
sexual desire: <<threesomes>>
the both of you look so wonderful on your knees. now, please me.
empire of
✾ HALARA ✾
colors: royal blue + plum
moto: “wait for the perfect time, then attack.”
your position: the treasurer ∞
in charge of tax collecting
tracking debit with other empires
monitors the state of the empire
emperor jaehyun’s trustee: <<mark>>
helps you hide stolen money
forges numbers for the books
providing transportation and housing for your escape
his secret: you and emperor jaehyun have been stealing money from the empire. the two of you have convinced the empress that there is a traitor among the castle. emperor jaehyun has planned the escape for the both of you- leaving the empire behind for the empress, as he has fallen deeply in love with you. 
sexual desire: <<erotic spanking/servant play>>
ah- you’ve disobeyed me again, servant. bend over, you know what time it is.
kingdom of
❂ CHRYSEOS ❂
colors: red + violet
moto: “stay gold, always.”
your position: the marshal 〶
ensures that the kingdoms laws are enforced
responsible for securing the kingdoms boarders
organizes patrol and responds to threats
king jungwoo’s trustee: <<haechan>>
protects your illegal work regarding protection of the king
assists you with hiring hitmen for the ones who threaten the king
provides you with handguns/weapons for the knights
his secret: you and king jungwoo have been legally married in another country, for five years. the queen has no idea that she is technically a mistress. you plan to hire a hitman to take out the queen, robbing her of her jewls and kidnap the king- to live your life in your home country; where no one knows of your work with the king. 
sexual desire: <<roleplay>>
you look exquisite in royal clothing, my dear. what would be even more delicious, is you bent over the queens royal chair.
empire of
✥ MERAKI ✥
colors: gold + black
moto: “take everything, forgive no one and leave no trace.”
your position: the spymaster ⌖
observes the empires criminal elements
spies on other kingdoms+empires
uses collected information to protect the king
emperor mark’s trustee: <<yuta>>
supplies you with illegal torture devices
provides you with secret maps to other kingdoms+empires to break into their castles
helps you protect the king
his secret: you are his long lost love. as he was promised to another female at birth, he fell in love with you as a young man. you were brought into the castle by his father who was the emperor, as an orphan child of a passing village. before the emperor’s passing, you promised to watch after the castle and his reigning son. every now and then, you and emperor mark find yourselves in deep love with each other, but you can’t bring yourself to destroy the lee empire with your own desire.
sexual desire: <<face sitting>>
you’d look even more beautiful, straddling my face. i bet that you wouldn’t be able to ride my tongue without making a sound. 
kingdom of
۞ AGAPI ۞
colors: baby blue + gray
moto: “everything in the world is about sex, except sex. sex is about power.”
your role in the castle: the steward ❦
in charge of daily management and supplies needs for the castle and the king
responsible for financial and legal matters concerning the castles estates
represents the king in court, while he is away
king haechan’s trustee: <<johnny>>
covers up your mistakes
protects you from unwanted information being released
prints money illegally and uses it to help you pay for supplies
his secret: king haechan is planning to have the queen assassinated so you can fill her role once she is gone. johnny is the only person who knows that you and the king are sleeping together. although king haechan doesn’t know just yet, you are pregnant with his son-
sexual desire: <<domination and rough sex>>
no one will be able to hear you cry out in this dungeon, my love. but, i do think you need something to occupy that throat of yours.
#nct scenarios#nct fanfic#nct imagines#kpop fanfic#nct 127#nct dream#nct 127 stories#nct 127 smut#nct 127 fan stories#nct 127 imagines#johnnysnostril#nct 127 taeyong#nct 127 taeil#nct 127 johnny#nct 127 doyoung#nct 127 yuta#nct 127 jaehyun#nct 127 mark#nct 127 haechan#nct 127 jungwoo#nct 127 kingdoms and empires#kpop royalty#nct royalty
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Once Upon a One Night Stand (Draco Malfoy x Reader)
-> Draco and Y/N thought they got away with it until morning comes and a small mistake gave them away.
Warning: Cursing and mature content! Read at your own discretion
This is my first attempt at smut so please don’t come at me if it’s bad 😣😅 feedbacks are much appreciated!
It started as a one time thing, an unforseen aftermath of a celebration gone utterly wrong. Y/N was feeling brave and decided to downed shots after shots of firewhiskey that Slytherin has managed to smuggle into Hogwarts for this one purpose only, an after party held at the Slytherin dormitory celebrating the end of their O.W.L. examination week.
Y/N guessed that they were feeling rather generous since they opened their door for other houses, Gryffindors included. But after the amount of stress and anxiety that they’ve all been under, a common ground and mutual understanding was formed, at least just for the night. And who is she to deny herself the pleasure of getting the full Slytherin’s legendary party experience?
And so Y/N along with the rest of the fifth year students made their descend from the Gryffindor Tower, down into the viper den in the dungeon. Slytherin promised them all the party of a lifetime and they indeed delivered. As soon as the bare stretch of stone wall opened and revealed the passage behind it, smoke invaded their noses, an unmistakable scent of marijuana mixed with cigarettes. Loud techno music blaring from down the hall.
The state of the Slytherin common room was atrocious. All the black and dark green leather sofas had been pushed back to create an empty space for a makeshift dance floor in the center, one that is already swarming with partygoers. Dancing, grinding, and bobbing their heads along to the rhytm.
So much was happening that Y/N nearly got an instant headache, each and every one of her senses overwhelmed and assaulted. Even starting to regret her decision of coming down here since she’s so out of her elements. At some point in the night, she lost sight of all her fellow housemates and that’s when she decided to just might as well get herself hammered. To take advantage of the free flow alcohol in the form of a fountain on one corner of the room. It has been enchanted so that it will never ran out.
Once the firewhiskey had settled into her system suddenly her surroundings wasn’t all that terrifying, she’s one with the crowd now. As intoxicated as they all were, if not more. She found her feet taking her to the very center of the dance floor, somewhat aware that she’s probably pulling some off beat dance moves but she couldn’t care less.
“My my.... look at you, Y/L/N. Now I can say that i’ve seen all there is to life and die with no regrets” A voice called out but it sounded like it’s coming from everywhere. It sounds familiar but she can’t put a face to it due to how out of it she was.
Y/N spun around to find the source, swaying dangerously, her balance betrayed her. But luckily solid warm hands reached out and steady her. Y/N gave the stranger a loopy grin, “Thanks... umm... who are you?”
“By Salazar, Y/L/N. How much have you had to drink? you’re blind drunk” The voice said again and is that concern that she detected in the tone?
Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched in contemplation, “I don’t really remember, I could barely remember who I am” She replied sheepishly.
The stranger snorted, “I believe it definitely takes an awful lot for you to forget me”
She threw her hands up in exasperation, “Can’t you just tell me your name already? all this thinking made my head hurts, you’re making my head hurts”
He chuckled, oh yes it’s definitely a he from the tenor of his voice, “I do love to pull your strings and make your head hurts daily, but this time i’m afraid the alcohol is to blame and not me, darling”
Y/N groaned, letting go of all efforts of trying to put her scrambled mind together, “I give up, i’m too far gone for this”
She felt the man put his hand on the small of her back, guiding and parting the crowd for her. “I think that’s enough partying for you unless you want to experience a hangover that lasts for weeks”
“Yeah I think you got the right idea” Y/N muttered as the numbing effect of the alcohol dissipate, giving way for the pounding headache to take over.
She closed her eyes, putting her chin on top of his shoulder and let it rest there. Then she wrapped her arms around his waist, hanging on for dear life. Letting him continue to navigate the both of them wherever he wishes to take her which is probably a bad idea but now the line is pretty much blurred.
When the sound of the party seemed far away before disappearing completely, she peeked one of her eyes open, finding herself standing in a different room.
Ancient four posters bed with green silk hangings is the first thing she spotted. Silver lanterns hung from the ceilings. The walls are decorated with Slytherin crests and medieval tapestries depicting the adventures of famous Slytherins.
Y/N gulped as she realized that now she’s standing inside one of the bedrooms in the boy’s dormitory. She rubbed her eyes with the palms of both hands, trying to get somewhat level-headed to assess the situation. As some sliver of consciousness creeps in, she staggered back from the person that just minutes ago she had latched herself to.
“MALFOY?!?! It’s you?” She half screamed at her silver haired nemesis.
“Geez, Y/L/N. A thank you would be nice” He replied as he rolled his eyes at her.
“And why would I do that? for all I know you could’ve taken me here to take advantage of my drunkenness!”
He faked a wounded look, “Really, Y/L/N? contrary to what you may believe in, I don’t need to take advantage of a drunk girl to find someone to sleep with”
Y/N crossed her arms in front of her chest, still skeptical about the whole thing, “Then humor me, Malfoy. Why did you decide to save me?”
“I was with Theo when I saw you all alone, dancing like a mad woman. I ought to just leave you alone but then I noticed that you’re not with any of the Gryffindorks and with the state that you’re in, you’re one step away from making a fool of yourself. Me being the gentleman that I am decided to do you a favor just this once” He answered nonchalantly, as if it’s no big deal at all and this is a typical behavior from Draco Malfoy.
Silence enveloped the room for some minutes, only the sound of the Black Lake water lapping against the windows was heard. It helped calmed some of her frayed nerves despite the laughable circumstances that she founds herself in. Y/N stared at his face and found him staring back at her, waiting to see her reactions.
“I can’t believe that i’m saying this.... but thank you, Malfoy” She finally said, giving him a small smile.
Draco found himself taken aback by her smile, she never smiled at him, until now. It made him feel all weird and mushy inside.
He cleared his throat, an attempt to pull himself together. “Do you think you can make it back to your tower?”
Y/N frowned, despite the fact that she has gained some sobriety, hauling her ass back up is too big of a challenge. With her headache and unsteady balance, it’s more likely she will topple over and just let herself sleep somewhere on a random castle hallway. Just imagining about the trip that she has to make from the dungeon to the tower made white spots appeared in her mind. But clearly staying here is not an option too right?
“I.... I don’t know” She said defeatedly, shoulder slumping like she can’t believe that she got herself into this mess in the first place.
“You know what? just sleep here. This bed can fit 4 people, we can sleep side by side without having to touch each other” Draco said, and he quickly cut in when he saw her opening her mouth. “—Spare me the arguments, you and I know you’re in no condition to make your way back safely to your dorm”
Once again she founds herself loss for words, too perplexed at how the night keeps on progressing. As hard it is to admit, but Malfoy has a point and he’s doing a huge favor for her. The least that she could do is not be a bitch.
“Okay... thanks again” Y/N said with finality, assuring herself that this is for the best.
“Good, i’m not in the mood to argue. I have some spare shirts in my wardrobe that you can use to sleep in, what you’re wearing right now doesn’t exactly make a good sleepwear” Draco replied, letting his eyes trailed over the lacey material of her crimson dress. “Not that it’s not a good one” He throwed in for good measure.
Y/N raised an eyebrow his way, a taunting smirk making its way to her lips. “Was that a compliment that I just heard?”
His only reply was a “Don’t get used to it”.
———————————————————————
Y/N opened his wardrobe, greeted with the assortment of black and green clothing, of course. The materials are all soft and light, at least he has good standards. Y/N spotted a single white shirt tucked on the back, that one’s good enough for her instead of having to endure a possible torture from Malfoy if she wears his house color. She grabbed it and make her way inside his personal bathroom.
Once inside, Y/N peeled her dress off, relishing in the feeling of the cool night air hitting her skin and the marble tile under her feet. She put on Malfoy’s shirt, it’s big enough that it managed to cover her fully, the ends settling on the middle of her thigh. The scent of his cologne enveloped her, spicy and earthy. It suits him, despite their difficult relationship she always thought that Malfoy smells bloody good. And now she’s wearing one of his shirts, life is weird indeed. After making sure all is good she stepped back into the bedroom.
Finding Malfoy who has also changed into his emerald pajamas. Merlin, he looks good. Y/N had to take a few deep breaths to settle her frantic heart. Thundering in her chest with every step that she took that brought her closer to the bed. Malfoy already lounging lazily on top of it but his eyes are closed, but she can see that he’s aware of her presence.
“Are you decent?” He asked.
“Yeah I am” Y/N replied, leaning into one side of the bed. Just one hop away from laying down beside him in the seas of silk.
Draco opened his eyes and felt his stomach drop, suddenly finding it hard to breath properly. Y/N glowed in the faint moonlight that shone through the water, the too thin material teasing him, giving him glimpses of all the curves and dips underneath as she shifts from one foot to another. Biting her lips as she waited for him to invite her up. “Bloody hell, Y/L/N. Are you trying to kill me?” He murmured breathlessly, so soft that it’s almost a whisper.
Y/N, very much aware of the power that she now holds by the looks of it, smirked at him. “Can I sleep now or do you still want to stare some more?”
Not trusting his voice to remain steady, Draco just gulped and patted the empty side of the bend, beckoning her to do as she wishes. But his eyes remained, watching her, roaming all over. As if choosing to ignore the fact that Draco’s in the verge of bursting, the minx decided to crawl her way on top of the bed slowly instead of just haul herself up like a normal person should. Draco even sent a prayer for himself so that he can get through the night.
Y/N settled and make herself comfortable, patting and fluffing the pillow for show. Then she laid down with a contented sigh that sounded more like a moan at this point. He felt himself growing harder with each passing second. Gripping the silk sheets to maintain some semblance of restraint.
“You doing okay over there?” She said tauntingly, mustering an innocent look on her face as if she doesn’t enjoy this game of cat and mouse that they’re silently playing.
Draco let out an angry grunt, turning his body to the side so that she can only sees his back. Hiding his flushed face away from her sight. Oh he’s definitely not getting any sleep tonight.
“Alright then, goodnight Malfoy!” Y/N said chirpily as she pulled the blanket to cover herself.
Draco stayed silent, thinking long and hard on wether or not he should reply, but not even a few minutes after that, he found her already asleep when he glanced her way over his shoulder. But still he offered her a “Goodnight, Y/N” despite knowing that she wouldn’t even hear it.
Ten minutes, fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes passed but Draco can only toss and turn in his side of the bed. He is hot and bothered and despite how hard he tried, he cannot ignore it any longer because his problem isn’t going anywhere.
He pulled the blanket off himself, lowering his feet to the ground, and slowly walked towards the bedroom.
He has something to take care of.
———————————————————————
Y/N found herself awaken from her sleep and she too is confused as to why. Everything is in place, there’s no sign of anything that might’ve stirred her awake.
She looked to the clock across the room, it’s 2 in the morning. As she about to go back to sleep, she heard it. A faint moaning.
Y/N turned to the side and saw that Malfoy’s side of the bed is empty, she reached her hand to touch the silk. It’s not warm anymore. Meaning it’s been a while since he got out of the bed. But it’s 2 am, where could’ve he gone to?
Then she heard it again, another moan but this time louder, needier. She recognized that voice, it’s Malfoy’s. What in Godric’s name is going on?
Y/N lowered herself onto the floor and followed the source of noise that leads her straight in front of the bathroom, the door ajar like Malfoy couldn’t care less about leaving it like that.
She steeled herself before taking a peek and the view that greeted her, made her turn a bright shade of red.
Draco fucking Malfoy, sat perch on top of the bathroom cabinet. His pants and underwear pooled at his ankle. Eyes closed and heads thrown back, mouth opened into a perfect O shape. She can see trickle of sweats rolling down the side of his head. And his hand... gods his hand... is gripping his impressive length, stroking it up and down impatiently.
“Y/N....” He moaned out. Is he really moaning her name right now?
Her mouth feels dry as her eyes roamed all over him, an ache forming in her as she takes in the look of pleasure on his face. Her own panties growing damp from arousal.
“Malfoy?” She breathlessly called out, hating how timid her voice sounds.
Draco’s eyes snapped open in alarm, realizing that the object of his desire is very much awake and standing in front of him, caught him in the middle of the act.
“Fuck, Y/L/N. I’m so sorry, I thought you were asleep and I was just.... I was just” He trailed off, not knowing what to say to get himself out of the grave that he had dug.
Y/N bit her lower lips again, a force of habit really. Gods she wants him, she wants him so badly. An internal battle is going on inside her head between her logic and desire.
“Dammit woman, stop biting your lips like that, fuck you have no idea how that makes me feel” Draco said again.
And that was it, the desperation and plain need in his voice is what sent her tumbling down the point of no return. She felt her feet acting on its own, bringing herself in front of him. Even sitting down he still towered over her.
Y/N leaned in, then whispered to his ear. “Then tell me, Draco. Tell me what you feel? what do you want?”
“I want to take you over and over again until all you can remember is my name. I want to bend you over this counter and pound into you hard, then I want you to ride me, on my bed. Watch that perfect tits bounce up and down, watch that pretty pussy gets soaked and filled with my cum”
Y/N moaned as he listed all the dirty details, how much he wants her, he needs her. Suddenly even this thin close is too much, she needs to feel him. Skin to skin, all pressed up until she can no longer differs where she ends and he begins.
“Yes...” she moaned lewdly. “Yes... please, Draco”
He cupped her chin softly, angling her face so they see eye to eye. “Are you sure, darling?”
“More than anything, take me, Draco”
And that is all the confirmation that he needs before he leaned in and kiss her, taking the time to trace the curve of her mouth. Licking, biting, nibbling. Making note of what he needs to do to earn that sweet sound of hers. To hear her beg for more.
He let his fingers trailed down, from her collarbones to the valley between her breasts. He made teasing circles around it then he flick her nipples, once, twice. Watching as it rise and grow hard under his fingers.
Then he trailed lower, to where she needs him most. A sense of pride filled him when he felt how soaked she is, she’s literally dripping. “You’re so wet for me, darling” Draco murmured as he nibble on her ear. He ran a finger over her clit, keeping his stroke light and teasing. Slowly rubbing circles that sends jolt of pleasure coursing through her. “Draco, please” She whispered out much to his satisfaction.
“What do you want, darling? you have to say it or else I won’t know” He teased.
“Dammit, Draco. Just fuck me already, I want to feel your cock pounding into me” Y/N half shouted, her insides are begging for release.
Without bothering to reply, Draco maneuvered her into a bending position, and buried his cock deep into her.
“Fuck you’re so big” Y/N moaned, letting herself adjust to his size.
“And you’re so warm and tight, darling. You feel soo good around me”
As she gave him a sign to go on, Draco slowly thrust in and out, setting a pace that droves the both of them crazy. They moaned each other’s name, over and over again like a prayer.
And true to his words, Draco took her, again and again. Made her his in every way. Up against the wall, on the bed, against the window. As if they couldn’t get enough of each other.
As exhaustion finally took over, Draco pulled her into his arms, letting her head settle on his chest. She looked up at him with those mesmerizing (Y/E/C) eyes, filled with bliss and contentment. He would bet a good amount of his fortune that his eyes mirrored hers.
“Sleep my sweet villain, my darling goddess” He murmured to her as he pressed a kiss on top of her head.
And they both drifted off to a much needed rest.
———————————————————————
Y/N stayed throughout the weekend in Draco’s bedroom, but then Monday arrived and they have to go back to reality after staying for 3 days inside their bubble.
To be honest Y/N doesn’t know how to proceed with the whole thing, what would she even do when they meet each other in the hallway or worst in class? what even are they? there’s too many questions but so few answers. And the fact that the both of them woke up late doesn’t leave much room for them to iron out the details first.
First class of the day is Potions so at least they just have to make their way towards the classroom since it’s close enough to the Slytherin dorm. Draco and Y/N got ready in a hurry and they both sprinted to Snape’s class, making it in record time. Draco let her enter the class first since walking inside together is out of the question.
Y/N made her way to her table, her Potions partner, Dean Thomas is already sitting there, and he smiled when he saw her coming.
“Morning, Dean” She said to him as she set her stuffs down.
Dean was about to reply when something caught his eyes and his face turned white as a sheet. Before Y/N can ask him about it, Professor Snape has walked into the room and took his place in the front.
His eyes roamed over their faces, making sure all is accounted for, when he stopped at her. Eyebrow raised and a look of pure judgement on his face. “Miss Y/L/N...” He started.
“—Looking at your tie, should I just assume that you’ve decided to move to my house or?” Snape said, drawling out every word.
Every eyes turned her way and as she too looked down at the source of problem, she is mortified. Her tie is green, nope not her tie, it’s Draco’s tie that she’s wearing. They must’ve accidentally grabbed the wrong one when they got ready in a hurry. As if the color isn’t obvious enough, the letter D.L.M. is embroidered on the tie in silver thread, making sure that everyone knows who exactly it belongs to.
As she glanced towards Draco’s table where he sat beside Blaise Zabini, she founds Blaise chocking back on laughter and Draco’s face is as red as her Gryffindor tie.
“And you too Mr. Malfoy..” Snape continued. “Should I have a word with Professor McGonagall about you wanting to transfer house?”
Before she can hear Draco’s reply, Dean whispered to her. “Soo you and Malfoy huh?” He asked with a shit eating grin.
“Please shut up, Dean”
#draco malfoy angst#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy fluff#draco malfoy prompt#draco malfoy drabble#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy oneshots#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy oneshot#draco malfoy smut#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter x y/n#harry potter x you#harry potter smut
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War of Royalty, Shovel in the Past
let me just sneak some lore in here
[Masterlist] CW: Medieval whump, injured recovering whumpee, collapse, overprotective caretaker, whumper turned whumpee, blood and torture
Eden was done. He was so sick of being bed-ridden and coddled all day and night. He swung his legs off the bed with a grunt and held his side as if he were holding his body together.
“Easy there! You’re ordered to rest.” A knight scolded, trying to coax him back to bed. “No no no, I’m f-fine! I just need to walk around.” Eden stared up at the knight pleadingly and pitifully until they gave in.
As he slowly made it down the corridor, so did the ten knights trailing behind him. They kept a generous distance of about three yards going his exact struggling pace. “You really don’t have to do this...” Eden murmured.
“We have our orders from the king. You're not to leave our sight.” The knight spoke, continuing their shuffle.
In a way, they did make him feel safe after being snatched from his own bedroom, but it was also unsettling to have a sea of guards always clanking at his heel. Their armor was rather loud.
After what felt like a journey, he made it down the hallway to the kitchen. He requested a basket, a blanket, and whatever meals were hot and ready. He offered to slave for it, but to his surprise the cook was beyond happy to prepare everything he asked.
It was quite out of character for the usual stone-hearted royal chef. He even smiled at him and wished him a swift recovery. He returned to the hall holding a full basket that fumed with a sweet and savory smell. He was determined to make it to the throne room before-
“Ah!-” Eden hissed, crumbling to one knee as his chest stung and throbbed. The knights instantly surrounded him, one taking his arm and offered to carry him back to bed-
“No! No no, I have to do th-this...” Eden panting, scooping the basket back up in his trembling arms. The knight sighed and helped him stand, hoping the king wouldn't have their heads for this-.
--
“Eden!” King Arvend beamed, his face then twisted into concern when it dawned on him he was up and out of bed. “Young man you need to be resting! Off to bed with you, child.” He ushered.
“But what about dinner! You’re setting too much aside on my behalf, so I- I thought we could go on a picnic.” He shyly held up the basket with a pleading expression.
“But I heard you canceled the banquet tonight! For me...” Eden muttered, his cheeks turning red. Arvend sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Of course I did, the physician said you needed to stay calm and not to be stressed any further.”
Arvend’s face flashed into two emotions, heart-melt, then guilt. He looked down at the mass of sealed letters and the demanding servants crowing at him. “Eden, my sweet beloved dove, please forgive me, but I can’t tonight. But I promise you I will make time tomorrow, we’ll go wherever you want. This I swear.” He smiled.
Eden bit his lip trying desperately to not look so soul-crushed before the king. “Why don’t you go find Godfrey? He could use a break after everything I’ve put him through.” Arvend laughed to lighten the mood.
“I suppose I never did get to thank him.” Eden paused. “That’s because you were unconscious, now take it easy, okay? And you, don’t let him do anything ridiculous, this boy needs to rest.” Arvend pointed his quill at all ten knights who visibly tensed.
-
He couldn’t find him. He looked everywhere in the castle and Godfrey was nowhere to be found. Even some of the knights broke off to help look.
Well, he never did check the dungeons. Was he even allowed in there? He probably wasn’t, but he had probable cause! He slipped away when the knights were distracted while speaking with the bellmen. There was a distant noise and subtle voices, they became more clear when he was just outside the dungeon doors.
“I won’t ask again, who sold you Eden!?"
“I- ngh! I t-told you! A shady couple... Th-they didn’t g-give me their n-names-... AAH-”
“Lie to me one more time and you won’t have much of a face left...”
Eden slammed the door shut out of instinct, freezing when both the voices fell silent. He backed away as heavy footsteps stomped up and pushed the door open, the man stiffening when he found Eden huddled against the wall.
“Eh- Eden!” Godfrey gasped, quickly wiping off the blood from his gloves. “You shouldn’t be down here ... Are you alright?" His tone changed almost immediately as Eden just nodded. Godfrey sighed and shut the door, Eden caught a glimpse of his old slave master shackled to a chair with his face unrecognizable.
“I wa-... was wondering i-if... y-you, would like to-.” His words fumbled until he just held the basket up over his face as an offer. “Our king got busy, eh? Those are some pretty big shoes to fill.“ He sighed, resting his hand on the boy’s head.
“You saved my life! And I didn’t get to properly thank you for it. When you found me I wasn’t all there...” He lowered the basket to give him a small smile. “Oh come now, how could I say no to that smile?” Without lingering another moment, Godfrey took his arm and whisked him out of the dungeons, anything to get him out of there, really.
But why.
Why was Godfrey digging in his past.
There was nothing there.
Wasn’t there?
ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ Thank you for reading!~ @tears-and-lilies @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @starnight-whump @bumpthumpwhump @whumpcreations @myst-in-the-mirror @heathenville @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @thegreathowdini @kim-poce @digitalart-dwa @princessofonward @andwhump @sunflower1000 @kim-poce @lonesome--hunter @cupcakes-and-pain @as-a-matter-of-whump @nicolepascaline @neverthelass @octopus-reactivated @jadeocean46910
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