#Firebird Lovers

[yz]

1968 Pontiac Firebird Convertible with a 360HP 428 cubic inches (7.0 liters) engine.

Ashland car show, September 2024.

Fujifilm X-T50 with XF 23mm f/2.0.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Chapter 3: Caranthir x Finrod

And we go on :) Another rare-ish pair I like quite a bit...(They're also the April YOTP, so stay tuned)

Pairing: Caranthir x Finrod

Prompt: Annoyances to lovers

Words: 2775

Warnings: It's a crime story, there's a dead person...insecurity, flirting, fear of death, threats...the usual :D

It was a new and exhilarating experience for Gothmog to get to use his brains rather than his brawl, and so he was uncharacteristically shy and skittish about his research, purposefully avoiding his friends and cronies the whole afternoon to go over their lawyer’s notes once more in peace.

As far as he could tell, the women had not lied.

Even though Fëanor’s holdings were extensive, all the documentation anyone had been able to unearth was meticulously and flawlessly tabulated. No doubt, this was due to the mysterious son he’d have the pleasure to meet soon.

More than once, though, Gothmog had to forcefully draw his attention back to the endless sheets of paper stacked haphazardly on his bed as his thoughts tended to drift off to circle aimlessly around the golden sheen of Eönwë’s hair or the alluring curve of his sweet smile instead.

“Pull yourself together!” It was not like him to lose his head over a pretty stranger, and so Gothmog was considerably worried by the pervasive weakness that made his heart race and his skin feel too tight to contain the feelings bubbling wildly under the forcibly calm and collected surface.

He had a mission! Mairon had tasked him with clearing their boss’s name, and he could not be side-tracked by the laughably irrelevant fact that Eönwë—in all his naïve diligence—was the single most seductive and endearing creature he had ever met.

“How are you progressing?” Manwë tapped his fingers against the polished surface of the desk impatiently. “Have you found any proof that Melkor has offed that other idiot?”

Frowning, Eönwë shook his head. “This all seems much more complicated than anticipated.”

In an entirely unprecedented flight of petulant secrecy, he decided not to tell his boss about his confidential informant who had effectively grown into a fully-fledged partner in this doomed investigation.

“I’ll interrogate one of Fëanor’s sons today to see if there might have been a financial angle to consider…”

“Nonsense,” Manwë thundered. “Melkor brutally slaughtered the man for his own amusement.”

Eönwë could not even fathom how anyone would perpetrate such a vicious crime for fun, but he knew better than to contradict his superior when he was in one of his dark, obsessive moods.

“I’ll report back to you as soon as I get the slightest inkling of Melkor’s potential involvement,” he promised. “I appreciate that you are sure of yourself, but we need solid proof to convict anyone.”

The sneer marring Manwë’s placid face told Eönwë that his boss was nearing the point where he’d no longer care about proper, legal prosecution, devolving instead into a fanatical vigilante and risking the good name of the precinct as well as his own illustrious career in the maniacal persecution of his reviled sibling.

A part of the young detective wanted to ask about the grievous implications Gothmog’s off-hand comment had uncovered, but he didn’t dare.

“I’m on it,” he said as reassuringly as he could and fled the office.

Caranthir, it turned out, lived in the city centre, and so Gothmog and Eönwë decided to walk to the apartment complex in comfortable togetherness that almost felt like intimacy.

The air was cool and crisp, and the birds sang in the trees. All in all, their excursion might have been a pleasant one, but both were tense and miserable after their respective woefully unsuccessful quests for knowledge.

“Manwë is not telling me everything,” Eönwë sighed, at once mortified to have uttered so treacherous and disloyal a complaint out loud.

To his astonishment, Gothmog merely shrugged nonchalantly. “They never do—that’s why they’re the bosses and we’re doing the legwork. We simply got to trust that they’ll eventually share what we need to know in good time.”

“I am afraid they play with loaded dice—it feels to me as if we were led to find exactly what we’re meant to unearth and…”

“Don’t worry,” Gothmog said softly. “Even if that is true—and I am not saying that it’s not—you have done your duty, and there’s not much more you can achieve without their support. This is above our pay grade anyway!” He waved his hand expressively.

Miserable, Eönwë, whose best had never been quite good enough, nodded and stepped hesitantly into the cool, shadowy foyer of a large apartment complex. “The office is on the 10th floor.”

Jamming his palm against the whole panel of small chrome buttons, Gothmog winked. He was not sure that he could cheer Eönwë up, but he’d at least try to annoy him enough to distract him from his feelings of doubt and inadequacy.

A cacophony of greetings—interlaced with babies crying and dogs barking—resounded, and Eönwë was forced to almost yell “Police” like a sorry excuse of a rooster until only one deep, slightly scratchy voice remained.

“I have expected you,” Caranthir said in a clipped tone. “Come up!”

“I wonder whether that one will be alone now,” Eönwë mused aloud and almost missed the next step of the smooth, marble stairs.

Usually, he kept his ungenerous and unjust thoughts to himself unconditionally, and he was aghast to realise that this was the second time in the course of a single morning that he had let slip his most intimate reflections.

“Nobody should be alone in times like these,” Gothmog replied calmly.

“Of course, of course…” Maybe, Eönwë thought, it was that understated, seemingly self-evident generosity of mind and soul which made it so easy for him to let Gothmog in.

Due to his own checkered past and questionable morality, the intimidatingly winning crook didn’t instinctively judge and condemn others harshly before having fully understood the situation.

And Gothmog apparently liked to take his sweet time with coming to any kind of conclusion.

Unfortunately, his near-negligent “innocent until proven guilty”- mentality—from which he had benefited himself more than once, no doubt—was in stark contradiction to Manwë’s philosophy pertaining to this case.

Before Eönwë could whip himself into a frenzy of mental torment over these opposing philosophies, though, they reached the top of the stairs to find a slender man of medium height with cold eyes waiting for them.

“You are Caranthir,” Eönwë exclaimed softly.

“Evidently, as you’ve rung my doorbell. Who else did you expect?” the man inquired with biting sarcasm.

“Moryo, don’t turn them against you before they’ve even entered.” Together with the sweet, melodious voice coaxing their suspect into amending his hostile mien appeared another man, gracile and radiant.

“I’m Finrod,” he introduced himself. “Please, come in. Dear Moryo is, as is understandable, not in a bright mood.”

He waved Eönwë and Gothmog into the flat with the easy charm of an accomplished host.

“He often isn’t,” Finrod prattled joyfully. “Don’t let it fool you, though. He’s a gem of a man!”

Gothmog raised his eyebrows tellingly at the lead investigator of the case, making Eönwë suppress a long-drawn, shivering sigh of frustration.

Of course, Caranthir could not simply have been alone. At this point, such luck would have been a statistical impossibility, and they’d simply have to work through another tangle of implications and ambiguous relationships.

“Do you live here?” Eönwë asked in a friendly tone, trying to get a read on the only person who seemed willing to talk to him as they entered a clinically sterile, fashionably minimalistic living room.

“No,” Caranthir grunted cuttingly. “He has a nasty habit of slipping in when one is not paying attention and then refusing to leave again, like a particularly clingy stray cat.”

Unlike the previous unexpected additional suspects they’d had the honour or displeasure to stumble upon, Finrod seemed utterly unfazed by their presence and slung his arm around the moody financier with exuberant, ostentatious enthusiasm and affection.

“Ah, Moryo loves it when I get on his nerves,” he crooned and pressed a resounding kiss on the quickly, treacherously reddening cheek of the stone-faced legal resident of the scarily clean apartment.

Lifting one finger as if to protest, Eönwë caught the amused twinkle in Gothmog’s eyes and decided that this was not a hill he wanted to die on.

Just because he didn’t enjoy being mocked and annoyed, it didn’t mean that nobody could.

“We’ve come to ask about the deceased’s finances,” he said instead after clearing his throat nervously. “Is there anyone who’d benefit from your father’s death?”

The expression on Caranthir’s face left no doubt as to how stupid he found that question.

“The man had seven sons,” he replied in a tone usually reserved for imbeciles and small children. “We are his sole heirs, besides a small sum set aside for our mother, and—before you ask—nobody of us needed money badly enough to kill our father for it.”

When neither Gothmog nor Eönwë reacted, he rolled his eyes in unrepressed exasperation.

“It was quite a lump sum,” Gothmog interjected probingly.

“He was a genius,” Caranthir scoffed.

“And quite generous to boot,” Finrod commented lightly. “If any of his sons had needed financial aid, Fëanor would gladly have provided it. He always seemed more preoccupied with the status inherent to making money than with the hoarding of wealth per se.”

“What I meant,” Caranthir grunted, giving his insistent houseguest a sharp side glance that was answered by a radiant, joyous grin, “is that, had my father lived, he would inevitably have made more money.”

A minute frown rippled across Eönwë’s fair brow at that—he’d almost forgotten that this specific son had distinguished himself by being eminently fiscally responsible. It was only logical that he’d consider his father a secure and lucrative investment which he’d rather maintain than liquidate precociously.

“So…nobody loved him, but no one had any reason to want him dead either?” Eönwë scoffed dejectedly.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Finrod mused in a deceivingly light, playful voice.

“Please, elucidate that thought,” Eönwë encouraged, and Gothmog nodded hearteningly.

“Well, I only…you won’t find a good reason for killing Fëanor—not money, not power, not disappointed love—for he was too good by far at keeping people hooked by dangling what they desired most just out of reach.”

Finrod took a deep breath and looked over at Caranthir, evidently afraid that he had revealed too much already about a man who was protected from being badmouthed by social convention and filial piety.

Waving a slender, pale hand nonchalantly, Caranthir cocked his head in quiet curiosity.

“The person who killed him,” Finrod sighed, “did so out of helpless hatred and unbearable envy. They probably didn’t gain anything from it other than having bested Fëanor once and for all.”

“Just to see him dead?” Gothmog gasped. Despite all his years of morally questionable service, he was nevertheless shocked by the idea of so callous and gratuitously vicious a crime.

“Yes,” Finrod sighed. “He was a difficult man, disliked by many, loathed by quite a few, and profoundly, madly hated by at least one.”

As two pairs of eyes—sky blue and flaming darkness—came to rest on him inquisitively, he threw up his hands with a small scream of dismay.

“Not I,” he asseverated passionately. “I love dear Moryo too much to break his brittle heart so. I knew Fëanor but very little and appreciated him even less, but—for the sake of my friends and my sweet love—I would have gladly borne him as often as necessary.”

Turning ostentatiously towards Eönwë, Gothmog stared at his partner pleadingly, his hands shaking with the need to grab the cocky, overconfident youngster by the collar and shake him viciously until he revealed all he knew.

In a commendable display of faith, Eönwë nodded. “Is there anyone who comes to mind?” he asked, opening his innocent eyes as wide as possible to convey the impression of candid curiosity, even though every wheel and cog in his mind was turning ceaselessly.

“No,” Finrod replied a little too quickly, averting his gaze from the insidious image of inoffensive, innocuous interest to escape the magnetic pull of Eönwë’s secret might. “I can’t say that I do—as I’ve already said, I had no reason to want him dead.”

“But someone you know might?” Eönwë reiterated stubbornly.

“Not that I’d know.” The harried, golden-haired youth chuckled nervously. “People don’t go around confessing their murderous intention to just anyone.”

This drew a short, barking guffaw from Gothmog—he got to hear a long list of potential homicide victims from his friends and colleagues on the daily, and he wondered what it would feel like to hate someone enough to kill them without having anyone to talk to about it.

More than once, members of his crew had talked one another off the ledge, and a good many annoying but ultimately harmless people were alive and well thanks to the brave and unyielding intervention of another, more clear-headed person.

“You talk too much,” Caranthir cut in, his tone forbidding and his face stern. “I surmise they’ve mainly come to gain insight into my father’s accounts.”

His look grew shrewd and calculating. “Of course, they have no right to do so lest a judge has signed off on this, right?”

With easy grace, Eönwë waved his evident hostility aside. “Not at all, we’ve only come to ask you—very amicably, I assure you—whether there was anything in those ledgers that would shed some light on the matter.”

“There wasn’t,” Caranthir declared decisively. “There isn’t. If there’s nothing else you’d want to know from me, I bid you a good day.”

“You’re not telling us all you know,” Eönwë grunted accusingly.

Cocking his head, Caranthir scoffed. “Self-explanatory,” he drawled. “The things I know are innumerable, and most of them are for sale.”

“And some are not,” Gothmog remarked under his breath. “Like your loyalty and affection?”

“Oh, you can’t buy, steal, or coerce that one out of him, take my word,” Finrod cackled, seemingly recovering seamlessly and with enviable verve from his previous slip.

“You are very much your mother’s son.”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?” Caranthir asked sharply, his cheeks heating up rapidly once more.

“I am not sure,” Gothmog confessed. “She’s also made it very clear that she has her suspicions, and—as much as she regrets her ex-husband’s tragic demise—she’d rather not help us find the killer.”

For a long moment, nobody said anything as they all sized each other up, mentally tabulating the pros and cons of the very improbable success of his cursed investigation.

“Blood only begets more blood,” Finrod finally said with a minute shrug. “Maybe, it will all end with Fëanor’s death…”

“Unlikely,” Eönwë grumbled. “Someone who’s killed once might well try to do it again…to the next person in their way. It’s a very slippery slope.”

“We’re watchful,” Caranthir hissed while looking Gothmog straight in the eye challengingly. “We know who our enemies are.”

“I am afraid that you’re mistaken,” Eönwë contradicted softly, remembering the fey light of zealous, blind, obsessive hatred in Manwë’s eyes. “I am very afraid indeed.”

Suddenly, he felt like a dangerous intruder in this translucent bubble of strenuously maintained solace.

“Here’s my card—if you can think of anything else…you or any other member of your family and entourage. Please, give me a call!”

Before he’d finished his sentence, he knew for a fact that they wouldn’t contact him and that it was for the best.

“Let’s go, Gothmog, we…”

“We put them in more danger, I know,” the huge henchman whispered and swept out of the flat behind Eönwë without taking his leave.

They walked back to the precinct in silence.

Before Gothmog could melt into the shadows of a narrow, dirty alleyway, Eönwë looked up sharply.

“Tomorrow,” he said in a low, thrumming voice, “I will come to the pub.”

“Don’t,” Gothmog interrupted, pulling him behind a very malodorous dumpster. “Walk down this cobbled street until you reach the abandoned meat packing plant. I will wait for you there.”

“If it’s one of us.” All colour had left Eönwë’s face and his lips trembled ever so slightly.

“If it’s one of us,” Gothmog confirmed with a grim nod. “We must discuss this where nobody can see or hear.”

It was only when Eönwë sat down at his desk and found a note from Manwë—demanding that he update him as soon as he came back from his interrogation—that he understood that Gothmog was afraid for his safety.

Taking a deep breath, he got up again and turned his steps toward the closed door of his boss’s office.

How would he explain that he knew less now than when he’d started investigating? How could he hide that he’d begun questioning everything?

So, that was the last official chapter of this...there will be an epilogue...but this concludes the rare pair Bingo :D

Lots of love from me!

-> Masterlist

[multistoty]

@stormlit @amruination @stcrmhund @oretsevni @daritelsveta  @daverialki

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1979 Pontiac Firebird

The 1979 Pontiac Firebird stands as a symbol of the late 1970s American muscle car era, a time when bold styling and performance were key selling points. The Firebird, produced by Pontiac from 1967 to 2002, had evolved significantly by the time it reached its 1979 iteration, marking one of its most memorable and iconic versions.

The 1979 Firebird came in several models, including the base Firebird, the luxurious Esprit, the sporty Formula, and the high-performance Trans Am. Each model had its unique appeal, but the Trans Am was undoubtedly the star of the lineup. Known for its aggressive styling, the Trans Am featured a distinctive "screaming chicken" hood decal, a hallmark that became synonymous with the Firebird brand. This large, flamboyant decal stretched across the hood, making an unmistakable statement about the car’s performance pedigree.

Under the hood, the 1979 Firebird offered a range of engine options. The base models came with a 3.8-liter V6 or a 4.9-liter V8, while the more performance-oriented Trans Am could be equipped with a 6.6-liter V8 engine, known as the "403" for its cubic inch displacement. This engine produced 185 horsepower, a respectable figure for the era, and provided the Trans Am with a powerful and throaty exhaust note that thrilled enthusiasts.

The interior of the 1979 Firebird was designed with both comfort and style in mind. The cockpit-style dashboard was driver-focused, with gauges and controls angled towards the driver for ease of use. Bucket seats, often upholstered in vinyl or optional cloth, provided a sporty feel, while the T-top roof, available on the Trans Am, allowed for an open-air driving experience that was perfect for cruising on sunny days.

In addition to its performance and styling, the 1979 Firebird also benefited from the popularity it gained through pop culture. The Firebird Trans Am was famously featured in the 1977 film "Smokey and the Bandit," starring Burt Reynolds. This movie immortalized the Trans Am as a symbol of rebellious spirit and high-speed chases, further cementing its status as a cultural icon.

Despite the challenges of the late 1970s, including increasing emissions regulations and the oil crisis, the 1979 Pontiac Firebird managed to uphold the spirit of the muscle car. Its blend of striking design, performance capabilities, and cultural significance make it a beloved classic among car enthusiasts. Today, well-preserved and restored Firebirds from 1979 are highly sought after by collectors, serving as a reminder of a bygone era of American automotive history where style and performance reigned supreme.

The legacy of the 1979 Pontiac Firebird continues to inspire car lovers, and its presence in the automotive world remains strong, a testament to its enduring appeal and the indelible mark it left on the muscle car landscape.

[mmogurl]

Dragonseed Chapter 2 : Coveted

18+ | 3.0k | Daemon Targaryen X Female Reader | dangerous, sex-crazed, raunchy Daemon | hyper possessive behavior, ownership, objectifying, big breast reader, non con, non consensual, P in V, lots of typical Daemon cussing, rough, forceful sex, violence, threats of violence.

Daemon has been feeling a lot better now that he's found you, his Dragonseed. No longer deprived of his carnal appetites, he's been keeping you close by ever since bringing you to work at Dragonstone. You return his generosity by satisfying his every need, although not always in the way you expect to. Daemon is a rather unpredictable man after all. I came up with the idea for this after reading page 914 in Fire and Blood. In the show, they recruit Valyrian blooded bastards to ride the unclaimed dragons from King’s Landing, but in the book there is actually a fishing village at the base of the island where Dragonstone is located. The men of House Targaryen were known to seek pleasure among the commonfolk there quite often, claiming their ‘first night’ rights and sowing ‘dragonseeds.’ Sorry it came out a little late, I've been sick again the past couple of days.. T_T

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 On AO3

Daemon wet his face in the basin, his fair skin caked with dirt and sweat from a day of training in the yard. He lathered a generous amount of milk soap into his hands and began to wash his face. He’d really prefer to take a bath and clean thoroughly, but he simply didn’t have enough time if he was going to wet his cock in you before supper.

Grinning he began to think of you as he ran a wet cloth under his armpits and then down to his groin. Standing buck arse naked in his chambers, his cock is already growing rigid in his hands at the thought of you, his little bird, his dragonseed, his secret paramour, and how hard he was going to fuck you when he got his hands on you.

Just as promised, he’d proffered you a position within the castle at Dragonstone easily enough, an assistant cook in the kitchen. Given you were so young and fit, the staff didn’t mind having another set of legs to fetch and carry things to and from the pantry. And given his high status, it wasn’t as though any of them would dare deny his request either.

The arrangement has been working out perfectly well for both of them so far. And since Rhaenyra never even bothered to join him in bed as of late, it had been painless enough to bring you into his chamber whenever he wished it. And oh how he had wished for it often, enjoying every moment of breaking in his new lover, and you were always so eager to please him. The biggest challenge was keeping you quiet so that his wife would not hear your screams of pleasure from down the way; he quite often accomplished this by covering your mouth, whether it be by his own hand or a gag of cloth to silence those heated moans.

Fuck, he was already at full mast, his manhood throbbing and twitching at just recalling the image of your full bosom bouncing beneath him as he restrained the sounds coming from your pretty little lips. Oh, how he’d love to let you go and hear every beautiful tune you might sing as he plunged his cock into your depths, but he’d rather not listen to the bitching that would ensue from Rhaenyra’s cantankerous mouth as a result.

Daemon finishes the quick job of freshening up, rinsing his body with more water from the basin and drying off before he gets dressed again. He rushes as he ties up his shirt, not wanting to miss the opportunity to have you sooner, rather than later tonight. His blood is pumping even more than usual today after some exceptionally good sparring with the other knights on the island, and he feels like he has enough seed stored up to take you at least three times, maybe even four.

He wears a knowing grin as he saunters through the halls of the keep, still half hard as he makes his way towards you, his toothsome little firebird. Daemon has a half a mind to take you wherever he finds you, loving the idea of a public fuck. Let one of the servants see him staking his claim on you, for it would make the act even more tantalizing. He wonders where he might take you, that self-satisfied smirk never leaving his countenance. Perhaps in the root cellar where the potatoes and wine were stored- or the pantry, or maybe even the larder? He finds himself further enticed by the idea of fucking you beside a full leg of mutton, after all, you are his piece of meat and he cherishes you for it.

There are a series of narrow hallways in the servants quarters, smaller rooms where they sleep, where you sleep when you are not keeping his bed warm. Daemon navigates them, slipping past other house staff that seem alarmed by his presence, but don’t offer any argument to it. The corridor opens up into the massive kitchen, a long rectangular room with an open stove in the center of one wall. Opposite the fire is a massive table that takes up much of the chamber, and women are busy preparing different elements of food to be served with dinner. Freshly cooked bread is laid out as well as several biscuits all arranged neatly on a silver tiered tray.

It all looks rather delicious, but no delicacy in the castle could compare to the taste of you. And Daemon is starving for you, ravenous with hunger for the sweet cunt between your legs, seemingly unable to get enough of it. He sees you standing at the table, your back towards him and your long silvery tresses glowing from the dancing flame of the fire-pit. He’d hoped to find you somewhere a little more private, but that doesn’t mean he can’t take you to another location to have his way with you.

As Daemon takes a step into the kitchen, he stops in his tracks, pausing in place as a consternated look appears across his furled brow and crinkled nose. A man, broad of chest and dark in his features comes to stand beside you, resting his hand on your shoulder and looking down at you with far too much affection and familiarity.

How dare that piece of shit touch you. You belong to him! He’d already stolen you away from your husband and in fact had the marriage annulled. He’d realized after talking with his maester, that as the lord of Dragonstone, he has the legal authority to deny any wedding among the peasants, and so he did. But, now some upstart ruffian from the kitchen was going to try and steal you away from him? How many men would he have to dispose of before he could be at peace with his claim on you?

It wouldn’t do at all. Daemon would need to make an example of him. Show everyone what happened when they touched what was his.

He strode up proudly, his back straight as his Valyrian Steel longsword, Dark Sister, as he approached the pair and cleared his throat, his hand clenching down on the man’s shoulder viciously. The scamp let out a startled yelp as you turned to see what was happening, a look of concern flashing across your eyes as you saw Daemon standing there. He saw the tremulous fear in your periwinkle eyes as you began to grasp the situation and sneered with a wild look of abandon in his eyes.

“What do you think you’re fucking doing?” Daemon roared out, squeezing even harder into the man’s meaty shoulder.

The fellow sunk under his grip, instantly relinquishing his hold on you as he attempted to turn and face his assailant.

“No, you can stay right there prick,” he said with a scathing venom in his tone.

The kitchen staff had all stopped what they were doing, gazing upon the scene with terror as though they knew blood was likely soon to be spilled.

“LEAVE US!” Daemon roared out loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls in echo as every single servant jumped in fright before rushing to leave the premises.

He reaches past you to pick up a chef’s knife from the table and spins the offender around to face him. “You see this knife, you fuckwit?” he asks with condescension. The man nods stupidly, wearing a veil of abject dread upon his face. “If I ever see you so much as look at her again, I’m going to make you a fucking eunuch. You understand?”

The man simply stared up at Daemon, disbelief rife in his slack jaw. He did not answer immediately and it angered the King-Consort even more.

“DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND!? You are not to touch her! EVER!!” he screams and wraps his giant hand around the man’s face, slamming him back against the heavy wooden table.

“Yes! Yes, m’lord!” the whelp finally replies, falling to his knees with his hands clasped up and pleading.

Disgusted, Daemon scowls and shoves him to the side, away from him and towards the exit. “Get out of you filthy mongrel!” he spits derisively. “Before I change my mind…”

The peasant chef or whatever the fuck he was, shambled to his feet, tripping and falling twice before he made it out of the room. The silence was cumbersome as Daemon eyed you, his gaze hard and vicious as he decided how he should punish you.

“Why did you do that?” you are asking, but your voice is so far away, barely noticeable against the ringing of his furious heartbeat in his ears.

“After everything I’ve done for you?” he begins tearing into you, his words savage and his voice hateful. He cups your face in one hand, stroking your cheek almost tenderly, completely juxtapose to the angry expression on his face. A squeak of surprise escapes your lips as he then runs the dull backside of the knife along the opposite side of your face. He is pleased with the fright in your features, after all, he wants you to know how grave an offense this is.

He turns you swiftly, shoving you against the surface of the table and pushing you down with a strong hand to the middle of your back. You try to get up when he tosses the knife with a clatter across the table, but he slams you back down causing the table to groan with the weight of his force. “Stay fucking down,” he hisses with frustration as he unlaces his trousers.

“But I didn’t do anything,” you whine sorrowfully, still trying to play dumb.

“Like fucking hell you didn’t, you little whore!” he spits back, pulling his stiffened cock out from his smallclothes and letting it hang freely. “You let him touch you. I fucking saw it! Saw the way he looked at you. How he wanted you.”

Daemon begins to pull your skirts up, shoving them up and over your waist until he can see your bared cunny before him. “Did you want to fuck him, girl? Did you think he’d have a bigger cock than me? Think he could fill you to the brim and make you ache like I can?”

You’re already whimpering, a soft mewl of tears in your voice as you try to make excuses. As you try to implore him to cease in being so upset. As though anything could calm him down now that he’d seen another man’s hands upon you.

“I will never let another have you, firebird.. You are fucking mine! You belong to me!” he shouted with a gruff and spiteful voice.

He pressed the head of his cock against your wet center, pressing through without warning and sinking all the way in until he thudded roughly against your womb.

“Fuck!,” he roared as you continued to whine against the hard surface of the counter. “I need to remind you, hm?” he asked, one hand coming to your hip and pulling you back roughly onto his member as he thrust into you again and again. “That you are just a little thing, a prized cunt for me to fuck whenever I wish it?”

That actually makes your breath catch with fresh indignant cries of pain. Oh you haven’t cried like this for him since the very first time he had you and he is relishing the way you keep trying to pull your tender core away from his impending wrath. It’s not like you have anywhere to escape to though, not like you can get away from his grip, pinned between him and the table, forced to take him like a good little trollop.

“This tight little hole belongs to me, girl!” he seethed, losing himself completely in your wet heat, his fury unbridled as he pounds into you relentlessly. “Say it. Tell me what you are and who you belong to. Say it now!”

He knows you won’t like that, understand all too well how proud you are, but he has to break your spirit further if he’s going to keep you under his thumb. He has to make you realize that you’re nothing without him. You stay silent besides the sound of your wailing, your dismay at how he is taking you and how low he is trying to bring you apparent.

“Say it, you little fucking slut!” he howls, raising his hand from your hip to slap you viciously on the the round fat of your arse.

You let out an alarmed yelp, followed by a wail of outrage as you finally relent. “I’m…I-I’m your cunny to fuck, Daemon!” you squeal with the sharp sting of embarrassment clear in your tone as your tight core clamps down on him in response.

“Damn fucking right you are,” he leers over you with a primal growl of arousal and conquest. “You like it don’t you? Like being my little whore?” He slaps you on the arse once more, this time hard enough to leave a crimson handprint on your flesh. Daemon can’t help but grin at the sound you make and the way you clench down tightly on his cock each time he slaps your rear. “You really do enjoy it,” he smiles smugly, loving that his filth has this affect on you. “I wonder how much coin I could fetch for you back in the brothels at King’s Landing? I bet you’d be the biggest earner on the Street of Silk… And you’d love every moment of it wouldn’t you?”

The inner lining of your center contracts violently around his length as you peak, causing him to wince in pain as he pushes past the taut muscles. “My dirty little bird,” he pants, grinning from ear to ear as you go limp against the table and he plunges deeply into you, pounding endlessly as he chases his own release.

He spills into you with the heat and thickness of molten lava, his cockhead slamming roughly against your womb as he pulls your hips onto him firmly, pulsing seed inside of you as he groans with the pleasure of subduing you completely.

“Fucking hellls!” he bellows out, falling on top of your back with nothing but his arm to keep from crushing you, holding himself up slightly from the wooden counter.

Daemon stays inside of you, not in a rush to leave the safe and welcoming heat of your cunt. As he steadies himself on his forearm, he reaches up to brush your hair aside, wiping salty tears dotingly from your cheeks as he takes in your expression.

“Are you hurt, little bird?” he asks with a hint of regret in seeing your reddened eyes and cheeks. “Was I too rough?”

You shake your head slightly, still not making eye contact with him as your body shivers beneath him. He smooths your bright locks of hair back against your scalp, still panting as he tries to recover.

Gods, he thinks you look beautiful like this, ravaged and spent, and still impaled on his cock.

“I don’t want him,” you finally say quietly, almost pouting. “He means nothing to me.”

Daemon sighs, feeling a pang of guilt at how decisively you say that, without a hint of doubt. He withdraws his length from you, leaving a slick mess of your combined fluids as he lets your skirts fall down again. He puts his now softening cock back in his brailes and turns you around to face him.

“I know,” he says pressing a kiss against your lips, before pulling back to take a look at you. “I can’t control how I feel about you, my searing firebird,” he says more softly, peppering kisses on your cheeks in between words. “It drives me mad with rage to think of another man so much as touching you.”

There was something about fucking you that always dulled his sharpest edges. It was as though every bit of pent up rage and aggression just fell away once he spent inside you. You were the only one who could sooth his ferocity like this, quell the savage beast that he always became in your absence, or even at the thought of losing you.

“I would never leave you for another, Daemon,” you say reassuringly, brushing your soft hand along the hard line of his jaw. “I don’t want anyone else but you. You must know that by now?”

“One day, I’ll learn,” he offers with a playful little smirk as he snatches your hand in his, and brushes a gentle kiss against the back of your knuckle.

“Well, isn’t that sweet?” an all too familiar voice cuts through the tender moment.

Daemon snaps his head towards the shrill sound, knowing exactly who he’ll see, his wife Rhaenyra. He looks back at you, realizing that he’s been caught and worried about what it could mean for you. He turns back to the would be queen and offers a feigned smile of surprise.

“I’m sorry, wife,” he offers complacently as he lets your hand go and smacks you on the bottom dismissively, signaling for you to leave. “Did we make too much noise?”

You scamper off obediently, retreating into the hallway and out of sight much to his relief. He doesn’t want Rhaenyra getting a good look at you, doesn’t want her getting any ideas concerning retribution against you.

“When the staff is not allowed into the kitchen to prepare supper and we are all made to wait… Well, it certainly sparks one’s curiosity as to what is causing the delay, husband,” she says, her voice cold and distant.

“Oh, that?” he throws his hands out in a disarming gesture, showing that they are empty. “That was just some fun,” he assures her, using as much disregard as possible so Rhaenyra might feel less threatened by you. “A passing dalliance, nothing more,” he offers with a wink as he lowers his hands to his sides and walks past her out towards the dining hall.

[1800-page-not-found]

Hi! Glad to see an ORV writer. They seem to be a very rare breed. Like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Anyhow, as you might have guessed. I have an ORV request for you. I got sort of inspired by that vampire. How about having our reader being a phoenix? Ya know the mythical immortal firebird? With the related powers? Like how would KDJ and YHJ react to their “s/o” being one? Like say they seemingly ‘died’ but then ina red flash of flames they are instantly revived, completely healed.

School is starting soon which means my updates are gonna be even scarcer lol

Kim Dokja, Yoo Joonghyuk (seperate) x reader

Summary: You sacrificed yourself for them, but just before they can grieve, you come back to life?

Using the Disaster of Floods chapters when Shin Yoosung obliterated KDJ in the novel.

also, Yoo joonghyuk never dated Lee seolhwa bc plot

Kim Dokja knew you were a phoenix, as it said from the story and your character profile said so. What he didn't realize was the fact that you also shared the same abilities as one (your character was mentioned only a few times in TWSA). So when you died, Kim Dokja was terrified.

Kim Dokja's eyes widened at your body standing in front of him. Nononono! He-He was supposed to take the shot! Why did you do that?! You knew he could revive again!-why?

He dashed to catch your fallen body. "No, no, no! [name]! Y-you can't die! Shit! Why did you do that!?" But your body had already fell limp. Kim Dokja cried for his favorite side character, his lover, his idol.

He held you close, yet tears were unable to fall due to the fourth wall. "I can't even cry or mourn you...What kind of lover am I?" He could only close his eyes and curse fate for doing this to him.

-

You opened your eyes to darkness, until a screen popped up.

[You have died.]

[Revitalization count down has finished.]

[The skill, Phoenix:Revive, is taking effect.]

-

Kim Dokja's eyes opened, then widening as your body started to burn. He could only step back, and watch as your body lit on fire. Your clothes started to burn, besides the ones which were fire resistant. 'I couldn't even give you a proper goodbye and their taking me away from you?...' Kim Dokja thought bitterly. He looked down at the ground, clenching his fists in anger.

-

You opened your eyes, your body feeling warm as a flame engulfed you. 'Ah...how nice it is to be a phoenix...' You sighed in relief.

-

The sound of your sigh snapped Kim Dokja's head up to you. "[N-name]? H-how?" Oh, how he wanted to cry so much right then and there. Too bad for the fourth wall.

You stood up as the flames lessoned and cooled down, dusting off some ash. "Huh?...But I thought you knew? I'm a phoenix remember?" You tilted your head in confusion. Wasn't he the one to realize you were a phoenix the moment you met? Surely it wasn't a bluff right?

"A-ah right...how could I be so foolish..." He mumbled, blushing a bit as his heart rate cooled down from the shock. He ran up to you, hugging you tightly and not letting go, ignoring the sweat and high temperature that surrounded you. "Y-you can't do that again!.."

You stood still, a menacing aura coming from you. "What the hell do you mean 'I can't do that again?' Once the cool down is finished, I won't let you die. Hypocrite. You were gonna take the shot for that wretched man, so why can't I?" You seethed in anger.

"Right right sorry..." Kim Dokja scratched his head bashfully. You were right... "I won't stop you okay? Don't be mad..." (He lied he was going to make sure you never had the chance to sacrifice yourself again no matter what).

---------

Just as Shin Yoosung fired the bright beam, your body instinctively moved. "Joonghyuk! Stop staring like a deer in headlights!-" You grabbed Yoo Joonghyuk by the collar, throwing him back behind you as you took the hit.

"Keugh!-" You fell on your knees, coughing up blood nonstop. "A-Ah..no...[name]?..." Yoo Joonghyuk took fast, trembling steps as he caught your falling body.

"Heuk...it hurts...Joonghyuk it hurt so much!..." You cried, your tears mixing with your blood as it dripped down to the side of your face. "P-please don't regress...These new companions, don't abandon them please. I'll be okay.." You begged, grasping onto Yoo Joonghyuk's clothes weakly, before dropping limp, dead.

"Haah, Haah..." Yoo Joonghyuk breathed deeply. Why did he have to see you die again? His only lover in each regression, who cherished him deeply and believed him when he told them he was a regressor, and stayed by his side no matter what. "Why?...Why did you die for me?" Tears dripped down onto your face. The single fear Yoo Joonghyuk had every regression...your death.

-

You opened your eyes to darkness. 'I wonder if he stayed?' You pondered. He, your lover, the man who saved you from your eternal cure of sleep as a phoenix.

[You have died.]

Ah right, you were a phoenix.

[Revitalization count down has finished.]

Thankfully, the countdown ended, so you could return to your lover.

[The skill, Phoenix:Revive, is taking effect.]

-

Yoo Joonghyuk felt a burning pain in his hands as you were set ablaze. "No!" Yoo Joonghyuk screamed, were the gods not even allowing him to bury you properly? Kim Dokja had to hold Yoo Joonghyuk back as he thrashed around, continuously hurting the man, trying to reach his lover.

"[NAME]!" He shouted, then eyes widening as he stepped back. "[name]?..." Your clothes were a bit burned besides the fire resistant ones.

"I wonder if he stayed?..." You mumbled, looking around. You really hoped he didn't regress.

"Y-you're alive...H-how?" Joonghyuk stood still.

"I'm a phoenix, remember? I can come back to life." You smiled, tears dripping down your face. "I'm so happy you didn't regress this time."

His eyes widened in horror and regret. Does that mean..Every time you died and he had regressed, you came back to life moments later? No...no...how-how much time had you spent alone? How could he leave you?

Guilt crept into him. He took a shaky step towards you. "E-every time...you came back?.." His eyes widened, hands shaking as he reached out to hug you.

You nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid so." A bitter chuckle came from you lips. He spoke, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave you, I-" You cut him off and hugged him as he sobbed into your shoulder.

"Its alright, my dear. Just don't do it again alright? Wait for me. I don't want to be alone."

"Alright." He whispered.

[aurana-i]

Yall, Lucien and Vassa are so happening.

Look at what SJM is reading rn (not me stalking her goodreads account 🙈) :

“In the Forest of Serre” by Patricia A. McKillip is a retelling of a legend of Firebird from Russian folklore 😍

I can be delulu for this but I take it as a sign and don’t tell me it’s a coincidence. Lucien (Ivan) is gonna save his lover bird Vassa (Vasilisa aka Firebird) whether it’s happening in their own book or it will be an Elriel book subplot 😌

[sunnami]

wips. (happy pride month and 1k!)

— snippets of all my ongoing works! hopefully this motivates me to finish them, lol. this is my apology for not posting the last few months huhuhu. enjoy! please remember these are unedited drafts!

last part of time-traveller harry au. (5k words written, my highest priority atm, got stuck in one of the scenes, but i think i can complete it soon now that i realize my writer’s block was due to me having an issue with the spacing... i hate having adhd.)

the houses as the miscommunication trope (hufflepuff ver.) (miscommunication trope is my guilty pleasure, sue me; i love hufflepuffs, y’all.)

isekai au. (i usually hate the modern reader in the hp universe, but after reading some godly fics and watching lovely runner. . . I GET IT.)

enemies to lovers au. (but the reader was forced to be a dark wizard. YEAH YEAAH! THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING!)

animagus au. (i love shifter fics where the mc is just so tiny and cute, and the love interests are these big glorious animals. DO U SEE THE VISION AJGKSKG. i was supposed to post this before my latest fic. . . but i decided that there wasn't enough angst to work on, so. . .)

werewolf au. (TWILIGHT ROMANCE LETS GO, LMAO. MATES!! THE "UR MINE" MOMENT. SOULMATES, AAAAH!! two snippets—which is basically the entire draft of this fic, lmao!)

drabble: their favorite photograph of you. (i love the marauders sm)

my personal favorite: the solitary firebird. (this would be my dream to write and complete, but this would be a full-on fic with character development and all. it would require so much commitment. one day, aaa. it’s inspired by one of my most favorite fics ever: the sterling nightingale. it’s a finnick odair story on ao3!! but, the next enemies to lovers i write, might be a condensed one-shot of this plot.)

AJGKSKGKF TELL MEE WHAT U THOUGHT AAAA THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR 1K !!! maybe for 2k ill reveal another batch of wips ueueue.

i promise to really, really improve on my writing. there's a lot i think i could do better. im so so grateful for the sweet comments on my posts, the lovely messages in my ask box. im so so humbled and grateful. thank you. 🤎

[memoiich]

Hey you 🫵🤨

Maul is a complete gentleman around you, you will never have to open a door ever again. You dropped something - don't worry he's picking it up, you need something that you can't reach - you bet your damn ass he is getting it for you.

He is literally the perfect husband...

Modern Husband!Maul and his wife go grocery shopping? And he is just doing everything and being so helpful?

He totally is and i would marry him so quick. Just let me and my man be together please <3

Raspberry’s & Blood oranges

Word count : 1,2k

Ao3: link

Sadly today you had woken up with a desperate desire for blood oranges and raspberries and your husband being who he was , a saint wanted to go to the store to get them . You tried to roll over and sleep a bit more per maul’s request but that didn’t work. So you tagged along to your lover's enjoyment.

That brought you here to the parking lot ,in mauls black Pontiac firebird that he got from savage as a wedding present. He gave you a quick peck on the lips and walked out to open your door . You remembered thinking that from day 1 , Maul was a gentleman. In the beginning, he tried to hide it a little bit. Slamming the door a bit louder than normal when closing it or pulling his hand away when you reached for it . A month later you would kiss him under the stars . You took mauls hand that he had extended to you and stepped out of the car . “ thank you, my love”you said. He gave you that one grin, he was so proud of himself.

You noticed it immediately when you walked into the store . People were staring. At first you thought it was pretty normal, you normally shopped alone and were a bit of a regular . Then you thought it was because Maul was such an attractive guy. if he wasn’t your husband you would hit on him in a heartbeat . That's in fact exactly what you did all those years ago. But then you spotted something in an old lady’s eyes, Judgment. You looked over to your dearest and he grinned back.

The red zebrak in question was way too alternatively dressed now that you were looking at him . He clearly wasn’t used to grocery stores and the way u dress for them . He was wearing one of his favorite band t-shirts that was slightly ripped on the side showing a fair amount of tattoo and waist , you were definitely not complaining about it. On Top of that was his metal spiked leather jacket covered in homemade pins , that hugged him just right. The metal didn’t stop at his clothes either, He also had multiple studs and a nose ring and a very secret and hot tongue piercing. Patches were covering about 90% of his pants and chains were hanging from every loop he could find . He definitely stood out .

It didn’t help that Zebraks were still a bit more uncommon but Maul and his 2 brothers had been living here longer than the 2 of you were together . They even had their tattoo/piercing parlor here. You took Maul's hand in yours and gave her a bit of a judgy look back and she scurried away.

Maker ,your husband was the most beautiful creature alive no judgy looks would ever take that away. You heard an amused giggle coming from your left. “ Normally you aren’t so feisty, my love “ Maul said while grinning at you . You felt a bit embarrassed by Maul's notice. You took one of the blood oranges in front of you , they needed to be as red as possible. You liked them that way . You also took them in hopes of ending mauls joking and getting him back on track for the mission of grocery shopping.

A red hand covered yours and took the red-orangey fruit out of your hand. “ Blood oranges are believed to bring power and wealth to their consumers by the people of Dathomir” Maul said to you with that hint of wisdom to his voice. You took the fruit back from him ,” I need to eat plenty then , in case you divorce me “ you said jokingly. Maul rolled his eyes , he hated that little joke of yours. Not only were you one hell of a person , that could perfectly support herself. He would NEVER divorce you , you were the best thing that happened to him.

While Maul was mopping ,You tried to reach for one of the bag dispensers that were set unreasonably high for you and you weren’t even getting close to it . Maul came up behind you, you felt his chest against your back and saw his long tattooed arm reach for the beg . He had laid his other hand on your hip and you forgot what you were even doing until the man turned you around while dangling the little bag in front of you with that smug look on his handsome face . “You needed this right ?” He spoke so smoothly. You let out a giggle and walked back over to the blood oranges display. You took about 16 oranges and put them in the cart.

You looked over to where your husband had been standing mere seconds ago but he had disappeared in thin air . Glancing past the corner, you saw him standing at the berry bar .you walked over to him , only to be met with Maul staring intensely between a couple of boxes full of raspberries. The annoyance was clear on his face, nightbrothers were know to see colors a bit duller mainly reds and oranges since dathomir would otherwise be a bit overwhelming.

“ Don’t torture yourself, Maul” you grinned “ That's my job” . He looked at you utterly in love “ I was trying to find the reddest”he said, a bit defeated “ Why, are they sweeter?”. Maul knew you liked your fruit sweet “ they are, but that's not why i want the reddest fruit “ “ Then why” You were quite curious right now. “ Dathomirians believe that raspberries strengthen bonds, how redder they are the more romantic they become “ maul uttered a bit embarrassed . You thought it was adorable how your scary looking husband was so soft and sweet .” You don’t need raspberries to strengthen our bond, maul . I love you regardless, my dear “ You grabbed 2 boxes out of the 9 lined in front of him” These are the reddest “ you put them in the cart.

The check out went extremely fast and you and maul were outside in about 5 minutes. You were looking at the masterpiece of a husband you had , you wanted to tell him that you deeply enjoyed the trip to the grocery store and how much you loved him but the rights words wouldn’t come to you and when they finally did…

he said “ you are dearer to me than all the blood oranges and raspberries in the world “ . The exact words you had thought of . Again at a loss of words you just leaned into him and kissed his cheek. Maul flushed a deeper shade of red immediately , which was ironic since you two had been married for more than 5 years and had done a lot more than that. Grocery shopping would definitely become a together thing.

I hope this was what you had in mind , it was a bit hard to make grocery shopping appealing so i made new Dathomir lore up ( i love doing that teehee).

{Masterlist}

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Established Relationship Recs!

This week, we have ten recs for fics that feature Caleb and Essek in an established relationship! Check them out under the cut, and as always - comment or kudos if you like them!

I shine only with the light you gave me by SkyScribbles (4533, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: None

There are certain things that an Umavi's son should not do, if he wishes to avoid his mother's rage and the disgust of his Den. Dancing with a human is most certainly among them.

Reccer says: The tension between the Umavi and Essek is incredibly well written, and I really liked seeing the machinations involved. Verin's spin on it all, as well as the wizard's conversation during the dance itself, made me laugh.

put your sweet lips on my lips by LadyOrpheus (15750, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Heat but not A/B/O

Essek has finally found someone he wants to share a heat with. Now if only his heat would get the memo

Reccer says: A+ smut, lovely characterization, and a rare non-omegaverse heat fic

where's the point in hurrying (when waiting feels so great) by mllekurtz (TheKnittingJedi) (4438, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

"You weren’t paying attention." That was Essek’s justification, delivered in a perfectly even and reasonable tone, when he entered Caleb’s study for the second time that evening, wearing nothing but jewellery.

Reccer says: A wonderful exchange of control between two wizards who love each other

memory in double exposure by hanap (11479, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and Essek had a falling out. Essek visits Jester several times before things get sorted.

Reccer says: Not only is the shadowgast heartbreakingly earnest, but Jester and Essek’s friendship is beautifully portrayed. The progression feels so natural, and the ending is so satisfactory after the build.

small works of cosmic scale by mousecookie (2547, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek is living incognito in Nicodranas and Caleb visits him after receiving an urgent message

Reccer says: It's cute and touching

Mitosis by queenbeetle (4325, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

caleb learns a new spell and essek is eager to push his limits.

Reccer says: SUPER hot!

Iridescent Hearts by onyxshinigami (4822, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Domestic Fic from Caleb's point of view. Essek is obviously up to something and Caleb is delighted with a little mystery. They have a home! They have 3 cats!

Reccer says: It's a light, fun read. A cute little mystery/surprise for both Caleb and the reader.

the firebird & the star by quinn_of_aebradore (293, General) Reccer's Content Notes: None

In the Empire, they tell a story. The Dynasty tells one as well, similar in nature. Reality is quite different.

Reccer says: I liked it!

dress me up, make it tight, i’m your doll by atlasarcana (15516, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb has been creating a wardrobe of body jewelry for Essek. Essek volunteers to model as a mannequin

Reccer says: Interesting kink and Very hot

in guidance and tethered essence by Allinna (2868, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek tries to bake apple tarts.

Reccer says: It's super domestic and cute, plus the way the whole cooking process is (essek pov) unnecessarily academic is really fun!

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with Clothing!

[bucknastysbabe]

70s/80s summer camp for jace it’s just so fitting

SO FITTING THAT LIL SUMMER BOY, I struggled at first and really found my groove so I hope it’s good! Thanks for requesting❤️❤️

AU Bingo - 70’s Summer Camp - Jace Velaryon

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW//underage drinking, consumption of marijuana and alcohol in LARGE quantities, Jace and Reader are 18, Cregan’s little sister!reader, enemies to fwb to lovers, slight angst, Addam and Alyn share one brain cell, poor Luke, Cregan is the ultimate Big Bro, cunnilingus, pnv!sex, Frottage, blowjobs, Jace’s Horse Dong, virgin!Jace, we goin wild at the summer camp

“It’s going to be a hot summer this year folks! But we have hotter music for the Summer of seventy-nine. Here’s The Logical Song from Supertramp.”

The man on the radio was right. It was sweltering in Jace’s little black Pontiac firebird transam. He swerved at breakneck speed around the bends on the mountain roads, second nature at this point. Lucerys was in the passenger, nervously eyeing his brother.

“You’re making me quiver,” he shoved the twerp, “Quit being a pussy.”

Luke mumbled, “M’not a pussy!” He sunk down into the leather seats, brown eyes cast to the surrounding trees and views. They’d go through the mountains before making it to the lake and the camp. Camp Wolfwind was the name, the Stark family generously started it over decades ago.

Cregan Stark, Jace’s best friend by mail most of the time would be there. He was assistant director of camp this year, just a year older than him. Cregan always had the air of being mature, making Jace feel like a kid without even trying. Mr. Umber was the camp director, some wildman looking type with a booming laugh.

Jace’s mother had him and Luke come to this camp since they were little, to quote, “I’m not sending my children to that snobby hobnobbing farce of a camp. You boys are going to learn to be of the people and nature.” Safe to say Camp Wolfwind was a staple of Jacaerys summer. It really was a great place.

Being a senior counselor this year added bonuses. More time off between campers, say-so on party invitations, and all the grass, liquor, whatever you could get your hands on. It was a poorly hidden secret Mr. Umber grew his own bud. But only on the weekends you could partake, per Cregan.

“Whose gonna be the female senior counselor?”

Jace almost wrecked the fancy car. Fuck. Cregan’s little sister got that post. He’d had to work with the thorn in his side since, god, he first camp to Wolfwind. She had a way of getting under his skin with that sharp laugh and glinting eyes. Most of the guys thought she was sexy, looking like Jaclyn Smith of Charlie’s Angels.

Jace saw a demon with horns snorting at him when she opened her mouth. He had no clue how that girl was related to the ever calm, collected Cregan. Jace huffed, annoyed that Luke brought back the information he had banished since receiving the letter from his friend.

Whatever. It was his last summer at Wolfwind before heading off to college. Camp stopped last week of July and most of his stuff was packed up back home anyway.

A sign for the camp flew by, Jace’s knuckles whitening on the wheel. Luke snorted and popped back a cheez-it, “You’ll be fine, she’s really not that bad.” The elder brother made a familiar turn, much slower now, and scoffed, “Okay, sure, that’s why Aemond makes you cry at Christmas.” The two were pulling hair and throwing blind punches, the car skidded to a halt as insults were slung.

Cregan leaned into the open window, grinning in amusement, dodging a stray elbow. He slammed on the hood of the trans am a couple of times before Jace collected himself and shot one last side-eye to his shit of a brother. The eldest Stark huffed in humor, “Good to see you Jace and Luke, let’s get you two parked then you can go into the woods to work it out.”

Jace smiled and shook his best friend’s hand, “That can be arranged.”

Luke was back to pouting, quiet and slamming shit as he grabbed his stuff upon parking. The familiar smells and sights greeted Jace’s nose. He couldn’t help but grin at the lake shining under the view of the mountains, the wooden buildings here and there, up through the trees were obstacle courses and archery ranges. The smell of the mess hall wafted by. The Velaryon felt at home here.

Sliding his Ray-bans back, Jace sauntered to the senior counselor rooms, a duplex where he’d be connected to Satan herself. Luke stomped off to the more open spaced male junior counselor building, throwing one last bird finger. Cregan leaned against the porch frame now, holding out a bag full of camp clothes.

“You need to leave that poor boy alone,” he teasingly chastised. Jace plunked his suitcase on the bed and eyed the mirror in front of him. He shrugged, “Always sound like my mom Stark.” Cregan shrugged, “You know me, someone’s gotta do it.” The smaller brunette plugged away his personal clothes.

“Sis is real excited to see you,” he deadpanned.

Cregan’s dry humor could either make one want to drown or laugh until crying. Currently it’s drowning. Jace slammed a drawer shut and snarked, “I’m sure she is, surprised she-wolf wasn’t waiting with a sign that said ‘welcome pansy!’” Another huffing snicker from the elder.

“Well get your swim trunks on and meet down by the dock, Umber’s got us a nice selection while the counselors get here.”

Jace sighed a bit at that. Some bud and a beer would be nice. He shimmied on his red trunks and sandals, putting his best foot forward. He was the alpha somewhat now, had to exude authority. The Velaryon had no idea how his cousins, one a drunken slob and the other an uppity seminarian could exude so much confidence.

Down on the dock, Big John Umber was lighting a pipe, booming, “Jace! My boy! Get over here and have a puff!” Jacaerys grinned, “Yessir, how’ve you been this year?” He took two greedy puffs of the potent herb and held until exhaling with a couple of coughs. Umber’s big hand clapped his back as he replied, “Business is booming son, spent the whole year in Miami!”

Jacaerys waved and nodded at familiar faces; Maris and Cassandra, Ben and Aly Blackwood, Alyn and Addam, then the she-demon. She waved her painted nails, long dark hair streaming down a regrettably beautiful body. The she-wolf cooed, “Jaceyyyy, you ready for camp? Then college? Gonna have to unlatch off of mommy’s tit by then.” Her hazy eyes were lidded, lips curled in sarcasm.

Jace cracked a beer open and sniffed, “Might have to fight Lucerys and Joff back for that position Stark. Sure you’re ready to go wild without Cregan’s approval.”

Cregan’s dark, sharp eyes turned to the pair. She waved a hand, “Just playing around bro, chill out, smoke some more damn.” She stuck her tongue out at Jace and leaned back, exposing more tit than he really needed to see.

He sat on the dock’s edge, humming along to the radio, feeling the buzz tickle his senses.

Soon enough more arrived and a little gathering had developed into a party, Cregan and Umber high as balls watching from their kingly wooden dock chairs. Even little Luke had finished his pouting fit to have some PBR, making a face. Jace was flirting with Cass, boasting about his college plans.

Before a little hand pushed him into the water with a laugh. Jace dunked under the chilled night water, coming up to wipe his hair back and curse, “Hey! What the fuck?” She smiled down at him and said, “Sorry, Cass looked bored. I wanted your spot.” A raucous of laughter echoed around, drunken teens.

Jace narrowed his eyes and swam around to get tossed a towel from Addam, shaking his head. Jace plunked down near the white-blonde and was passed a shot, taking the whiskey quickly. He swallowed down the burn, feeling easier. The Hull boy snickered, “Cregan’s sister has it sooooo bad for you Jace.”

He raised a brow and guffawed at such a notion. “Yeah and gas is gonna go down too!” They both laughed at that, the male humming, “Glad I get a deal on the diesel family monstrosity.” Alyn piped in, “The monstrosity is named mouse and she does a good job.”

Another shot or two was passed around, Jace beginning to feel pretty smacked. He shook his head and excused himself from the twins, “I think I’ve lived up to the family lightweight standards, and I’m gonna retire boys.”

“Awe c’mon, c’mon, we got ghost stories soon!”

He smiled and promised another night, half stumbling back to his new cabin, all to himself. He could shower! Shower! Fuck yes. Jacaerys Velaryon felt like a king. The dim porch lights blurred in his vision, the door almost there.

“Tapping n’for the night already?,” she asked softly, long hair braided back. It looked pretty. No. Bad Jace. Cregan’s sister was drunk off her ass too, eyes hazy and leaning against the wall with a too wide grin. Jacaerys snipped, “Why y’care? Want to push me n’to the water again?”

She shuffled closer, face so sharp and pretty, dark eyes enticing. “No, I wanted to get you to myself and I was making sure ya’ weren’t leavin’.”

Jace’s face suffused into a blush. He stuttered, “W-wh-Wha?” He was a big virgin. With a capital V. Berlin Wall sized V. The darker haired girl smoothed a hand up into his hair, asking, “Taken? No good hm? Whas’ the play here.”

He steadied himself, blinking some sobriety into his thoughts and said, “I’m going to go to my shower. You can turn the radio on. The rest is up to you but,” he snatched at her waist, “Quit playin’ ‘round with me.” She moaned softly, nodding.

He let her go and moved to his room, stripping inelegantly, heading straight to the shower, leaving the door cracked. It got to a steaming heat, he stepped under, sighing, his cock beginning to hang heavy between his legs.

Right.

Jace had a ridiculously sized cock. So large in fact he thought something was wrong and went to his step-father about it. Who crassly widened his pale eyes and exclaimed, “That’s a damn horse if I’ve seen one. Congrats lad. No wonder your mother loves some Strong’s.”

So usually when he got to the point of attempting to fuck a girl, they would shy away or screech in pain. But he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to fuck right now, this she-wolf was a menace.

The radio clicked on. ‘Spooky’ by Little River Band filtered into the haze, making Jace a bit woozy as more blood flew between his legs. He heard her light footsteps, then a body slid behind his own, soft tits and feminine hands sliding up Jacaerys’ taught torso.

She murmured into his ear, “When did’ja get all handsome hm? Get this,” she wrapped her hand barely around his cock and shook, “This Fuckin’ monster.” He moaned softly, leaning dark hair back onto her shoulder. “Dunno, tried to hide it today.”

He flipped her round under the spray, getting a good look at wet lashes, dilated pupils, and swollen lips. Jace stared, hands groping at her built ass, cock nudging her thigh. She pulled him forward with two hands, sculpted lips drawing Jace open. They slid tongues across another sensually, occasionally getting a little nip from her, a hand pulling at his aching member.

Jace groaned helplessly, whining and chasing her lips with wide eyes as the she-wolf pulled back. She snatched some conditioner and slathered it on his cock, Jace’s legs trembling. The brunette girl braced herself against the wall, ass up, legs tight together.

“C’mon, y’old maid, fuck the gap!”

Understanding knocked him clean in the skull, shaking hands guiding into that shining opening, gasping and stuttering her name as he fucked the man-made gap, her teasing fingers helping along. She cooed and shivered, “Y-yes, that’s it, fuck you’re perfect! N-nudge there, there, THERE!”

Jace must’ve been getting her clit based on pitchy whines and cries, her cute hands scrambling for purchase as her back arched and then gushed on his cock, pussy convulsing. She tightened her strong thighs around him on last time before dropping to her knees.

“Cum on my tits Jacey, just like those pornos you watch.”

It didn’t take long looking at her wrecked face and swollen cunt to have him painting her tits in white, some reaching her chin and lips. He heaved and choked out hoarse moans, body wearing out. He slapped a hand on the shower wall and whimpered her name when the she-wolf licked his cum off her chin— fuck, lips, moaning.

“Does your mother know,” Abba warbled. She grinned evilly, patting his oversensitive cock. Standing back up she sung, “We’re gonna have fun this summer, Jacey.” And off she went, leaving the male a shaking panting wreck. He was gonna get her ass next round.

Jace was met with a rude awakening besides a mega hangover the next morning. Stretching and shuffling to the mess hall, he waited for his duplex neighbor. She gave him a disgusted look and shoved past, giving Jace an eyeful of legs and ass in her bitty jean shorts. Her dark hair whipped around.

Oh. Jace was a bit perplexed. She was just licking his cum off her chin last night. Now the cold shoulder? Was this one of those games girls played? The brunette was a novice on the front and he certainly couldn’t go to Cregan about it.

Shuffling into the mess hall Jace managed to stomach some grits and coffee, head pounding. Addam and Alyn sat down, identical faces cheery. Those two were immune to anything. Alyn hummed, “What’s your bag? Looking like a bummer man.”

Jace took a miserable sip of his coffee. He murmured, “Do not start yelling and jumping when I start talking. Got it? Or coffee in your face.”

Cregan was off in the corner with Aly, the two seemingly close this year.

The twins nodded, eager for the skinny. Jacaerys sighed, “What does it mean when a girl gives you the cold shoulder after gettin’ ah-uh a little hot and heavy.”

“Who?!”

Jace hissed, “I said shut it! Doesn’t matter!”

Addam, the more suave of the two, “She’s playing games then, wants you to beg and grovel for her. Or…if this is who I think it is, she wants it on the DL.”

“Downlow then, but riles me up during the day. Just great,” Jace whinged while sipping his coffee. Alyn whispered something to Addam, the other nodding and they descended into giggles. A plate slammed down, the trio jumping and growing red faced.

“Morning girls, what’s the skinny?,” the she-wolf asked with a conniving look. Addam shrugged off Alyn’s red face and Jace being an idiot, “Which girl has the nicest ass, what did you expect Stark?”

“I’d assume it would be mine,” she hummed, taking an obscene bite from her banana, watching Jace. The brunette took the last bite of his apple and darted off, holding his mug of coffee, “See you guys for cleanup later!”

Jacaerys was going to explode. With anger, lust, he didn’t know what. He stomped to the little overlook on the lake he’d found as a kid, sitting on a rock. The lake was calm and lapping on the smooth rocks, sky sunny, fish flopping here and there. With every sip of his warm drink, his blood began to settle.

The crunching of leaves took that serenity and shat all over it. Stark’s sister sat next to him, a strange look on her face. Both began to speak then stopped. Jace bolted out, “I don’t know what the deal is here but I can’t handle it.”

Pretty lips frowned and she replied, “Fine, I’m sorry. It’s fun to see you get red in the face. But I can’t just change my personality around you,” she looked off into the distant, “Cregan is Cregan no matter how close you two are. I wanna keep fooling around, why not?”

Jace narrowed his eyes and held out a hand, “Fine. Just fucking around on the low. But just know I’ll get you back.” She grinned and shook his hand, stating, “You got it Velaryon.” They sat down in simple peace before the call of the speakers came, the order for clean up.

Over the next week was a flurry of inebriation, hard work, escaping Cregan’s watchful eye, and shoving away the Hull twins. He’d spend his nights learning all the ways to pleasure a woman. Jace’s favorite was face first between her strong thighs, lapping and sucking. She’d get all whiny and soft on him.

Especially when he crooked his middle finger up and she made his chin slick with arousal, Jace going back in for more, rutting into his bed frantically. He made her come so many times one night she cried and held to him until the she-wolf remembered her situation and ran away.

As the days to campers arriving drew nigh, she was a staple in his bed after their romps, the pair just chatting and smoking cigarettes. Dreams, hopes, funny stories, sad stories. He felt like he’d known the Stark sister for years by now.

They never reached full penetration, Jace utterly petrified by hurting her, as much as she begged for it. Getting head was just as nice, especially when she’d get him down her throat, the male holding her distended neck and whining helplessly, balls drawing tight so damn fast.

Then the campers came. The two would bicker and shove each other when directing the others. Not to mention the inclusion of night rounds to make sure no kids were being naughty. Occasionally they’d find some kids macking against a pine but nothing serious. The leaders were the naughty ones.

It went like this all summer. Until the very last week. The send-off dance with all the staff and the tweens moving up to counselor next week. Jace was excited and decided he would ask his girl. Which wasn’t his girl but they did everything like a couple, the whole camp had picked up on it.

Jace reluctantly asked Cregan one evening. He was shaking in his shoes, “Y-you know how your sister and I can get, but, I really like h-her.” The elder Stark deadpanned, “You’ve been at it all summer, you think I can’t tell that? She likes you a lot too, go for it. I wouldn’t want any other man to have her hand for this dumbass dance.” Jace grinned and pulled Cregan into a brotherly hug, thanking him tremendously.

He would wait until later to spring the question on her. Jace may have gone a bit overboard, flowers from the woods and twigs spelling out, “Be mine?” Aly loaned some candles and he was set, waiting. The door opened to his cabin and there she stood, gorgeous as always.

She took in the surroundings and stifled a laugh, eyes wide. “W-what’s all this?,” she questioned, snorting again. Jace’s heart and smile began to fall, she seemed to dislike this. He murmured, “I asked Cregan, he doesn’t care, wanted to take ya to the dumbass dance as a last ride, c’mon?”

“You went and asked Cregan? Really? What is this? My silly engagement proposal? Fuck you Jace! We knew what this was from the beginning!,” her dark hair tossed about as she hissed again, “Don’t fucking talk to me again!”

The door slammed shut. The radio turned to some cheery disco song. Fuck Suzi Quatro. Stumblin’ in to what? A brick wall, in the trans am at 120mph. Jace, stunned, sat down on his bed. He wiped away a stupid tear, steadying himself.

“FUUUUUUUUuuuuUUUUUCK.”

Okay, maybe he felt better now. Jacaerys Velaryon would just have to do like he did last year, pining over a different girl then. Get blackout drunk and puke in the grass. Then get back and go way too hard on the dance floor, maybe Cassandra would let him have a squeeze. Blegh.

Jace moped his week away, some of the kids asking why he wasn’t with his ‘girlfriend’. He’d snap, “Back to the ropes course! She’s not my girlfriend!” A snap of the line and the little shits would go scrambling. Meanwhile the she-wolf ignored him utterly and completely. Not even to jab or play a trick. Nose up and eyes away, not responding to any teasing.

He tried to get her attention once and she simply crossed lean arms and stared until he got the point and shuffled away. Pure torture this was. Alyn and Addam exchanged confused glances, they had no clue on what pissed her off so bad. Addam clapped Jace’s shoulder and laughed, “Girls man! Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

But Jace worried about it, pacing his wooden floor the night of the dance, all dressed up. By that he meant a linen shirt and some nicer shorts. Luke probably had a damn silk disco top on. The brunette dabbed on some cologne, ignoring his wild hair. He hoped she went home or something.

The dance was awkward and filled with the smell of sweaty teenagers and weed. Cassandra offered a flask and said, “Looks like you need it, sorry bout’ ya girl.” Jace took the heady drink to the dome, swallowing down the burn, finishing it. He shook his head and garbled, “Sorry,” then shuffled away.

The buzz kicked in but Jace felt more moody than anything. Luke’s silk shirt did bring a slight smile to his face. Same with Cregan’s brotherly hug and promise, “She’ll come around.” But the music and happiness wasn’t seeping into his bones.

Grabbing a beer the eldest Velaryon went to his spot by the lake. It was much quieter out here, only crickets chirping, faint music emanating from the mess hall. He found his rock and sipped on the beer, stuck in his thoughts. Beer bottle still sealed by his plush lips, Jace caught a glimpse of lights over by his duplex cabin.

Taking a gulp and placing down the bottle he stared at the dim light, an aching feeling crawling up from his belly to chest. Longing. God. He was so dreadfully in love. Taking one more swig he disposed of the bottle and trudged to her side of the cabin.

The door was ajar, Blondie singing about that glass heart. Jace pushed the door open and raised his brows. There she was, pinning a banner up. Per usual the female snapped, “I wasn’t done yet you dunce!”

‘Sorry for being a bitch’

She stepped down and gestured, face aflame, “Well. Here it is.”

Jace noted the trembling in her bravado, the multiple discarded outfits, even a curling iron was steaming on a dresser. She never did her hair or wore make-up. “Are you going to say something or stare? I know I’m a piece of shit!”

Lean arms began to wrap around herself, shying away.

“No, no! Just surprised!,” Jace crawled onto the bed and pulled her to straddle him, taking in that familiar beauty. She blushed and turned her head, but little hands curled under and behind to grab his shoulders. The she-wolf murmured, “I’m really sorry— I’ve never felt this way about anyone and I freaked out. I know I’m crazy…but that was shitty. I-I’ve always held the cards?”

Jace grabbed her chin to look at her long lashes and rouged cheeks, sighing, “You are crazy. But I forgive you. A valiant effort by the way, but you always look pretty to me.” She huffed, Jace smiling and nibbling at sharp jaw. “I don’t do makeup for anyone,” the other brunette stated.

“You gonna keep talking or kiss me sweetheart?”

Stark jerked her gaze towards Jace and took charge eagerly, hands moving to grab his face. Ah great, the radio was on the Doobie Brothers. Sexy time initiated— Jace internally cringed. Their lips sealed eagerly, finding a familiar pattern before Jace licked into her mouth. He got a breathy sigh, an arch closer into his frame.

He grabbed her pretty ass and squeezed, dragging her across his already aching cock. The she-wolf gasped and whined into his maw, lapping harder afterwards, humping him desperately. Jace thumbed a sensitive pulse point on her long neck before sliding a hand under her crochet top— no bra to be found.

Now he had something to work with, both hands relocating to her tits, tweaking and pulling at sensitive buds. She yanked off the top in a flurry, going to work unbuttoning Jace’s linen shirt, kissing her way across tanned skin. He shimmied the top off to push his she-wolf into the bed, him growling at her forced moan.

He rutted into her clothed cunt, the little hotpants doing nothing to hide. Jace rumbled against her ear, “Does it feel good, letting someone else have the cards?” She stuttered a retort— gone squeak as he pulled up on the front of her shorts.

“Fuck yes it feels g-good, get ‘em off!”

Jace grinned, that pretty pussy he missed so much…wet and swollen for him. Him. Only Jace. Sliding back to her chagrin, the male unbuttoned and pushed down his shorts and boxers, heavy member dripping with arousal. Eyes hazy but determined she moaned, “That- ugh- fucking monster is going inside me. Stud.”

Jace nodded, barely catching the bottle thrown at him. He looked down and smirked, a bottle of lube sat in his calloused hands. Jace casually put it aside and hummed, “Gotta get my pretty girl ready first hm?”

The girl almost shrieked when familiar lips met eachother again, Jace lapping and suckling her clit. He sighed, “Y-you’re so fuckin’ wet baby.” She shoved him back down, thighs shaking. Jace flicked his tongue as one, two, three all eventually fit into her tight pussy. Sloppy noises outweighed the background drift of music.

Stark cried and shivered, “Ah-haaah, Jace, fuuuck! Another, Jus’ one more! So close.” He could almost cum right then at her broken voice. Easing a pinky inside, she gasped and shuddered, coming undone when Jace flicked the sensitive spot under the hood of her clit and fucked all fingers up in the way she liked.

“Jace! Jace! Fucking god!,” she hollered.

He kept his mouth wide open for her gush of arousal, moaning and slurping eagerly, until she whimpered and shied backwards. Jace simply took his essence covered hand and jacked his cock a couple of times. He eyed her sated look and asked, “Still want this baby?”

“Uh-huh,” she rasped, legs wide open, cunt twitchy and still shining with arousal.

Jace slathered himself further down with the KY, even taking time to work her stretched opening, earning the cutest little noises. Now pressed on top, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, they stared intensely. She thumbed his cheek and murmured, “I really, really care for you Jacaerys. M’sorry for freaking out. I could probably spare this for later but,” he kissed her gently, hands smoothing up and down soft skin.

“S’okay, I promise, I care for you so much. Now just relax, we both gotta make this work okay?”

Another kiss and Jace led the heavy blunt tip to her soaked entrance. Oh god. He can’t believe this was happening. He tucked his cheek next to the fellow brunette to listen for anything, lacing fingers with her own. It was a big stretch, her panting going hoarse as the first few inches slid in.

Fucking hell. She was like Heaven, so tight n’ silky hot. She gasped, “K-keep goin’ Jacaerys, c’mon.” Soon the fattest part of his length was deep inside, cockhead nearing her cervix. One more push and they were snug as possible— joined completely. In a sweaty tangle of limbs, half-mewling cursed and sweet words.

She kissed him deeply, licking into Jace’s mouth, sighing, “I can feel you, hell, so ah deep.” He could feel it too, the lump in her lower belly. Puffing softly he asked, “Can I? Can I try?” Another peck to sweeten the deal.

“Go for it stud, be gentle.”

He slid back inch by agonizing inch, mouth open with helpless moans of her name. Every inch of her cunt was pulling along him, wanting to suck back in. Then gathering his wits, Jace forced himself up, the she-wolf mewling in glee. Unsteady at first, Jace developed a good pace, sweat dripping down his back, and god knows what leaving his mouth.

She scratched and cried at his shoulders, legs wrapped tight around slim hips. She warbled, “S’good, only you, only you stud, fucking me so good.” Jace’s hips stuttered at that, picking up the pace before he blew from her just being…sexy. Soft slick noises developed into full-on slaps and squeals.

Jace rambled, “Tight- s’tight- ohgodyoursoperfect! Ohhh-only mine!”

He was falling apart fast, balls tight and nerves on fire to bust a nut. She swirled lithe fingers around where they were joined then to her clit, crying and carrying on. Jace rapturously watched— her fingers, their copulation, the belly bulge. In a frenzy he pulled out with a load groan, painting her legs and the bed with loads of spunk.

Unable to catch his breath, Jace flopped onto his belly, leg still woven with his girl’s. The pair rested for a minute, music filling the peaceful void. A raspy voice and warm body curled over to him, her nosing his hair. Practically purring she cooed, “Couldn’t have been better. Too sweet. They make you Velaryon’s different.”

Jace huffed a laugh, rolling her onto his belly, “Was is good enough you’ll call or write me when we go off? If I remember…that stuffy girl’s school isn’t too far from mine.”

Her sculpted lips curled upward, “A hop and a skip they say. Gotta get the lads from somewhere. I’ll be around.”

He grinned and squeezed her. Damn Starks.

[foundtherightwords]

(most of my fics are CC x OFC unless otherwise stated)

Tom Grant (Make Up)

Winter Light (AO3): angst, slow burn, sickfic, post-canon, non-explicit smut | 5 chapters + optional epilogue, 14.8k

Arthur Havisham (Dickensian)

The Road Forgotten (AO3): angst, slow burn, fix-it, post-canon, revenge, non-explicit smut | 14 chapters, 42.7k

Irresistibly Contagious (AO3): sequel to "The Road Forgotten", Christmas fic, fluff, found family | One-shot, 7k

Billy Knight (Lethal White/Strike)

The Quiet Chaos (AO3): angst, slow burn, developing relationship, post-canon, non-explicit smut | 10 chapters, 36.2K

The Simple Thought of You (AO3): sequel to "The Quiet Chaos", angst, childfree, proposal, non-explicit smut | 3 chapters, 9.2k

Ralph (Timewasters)

All Our Yesterdays (AO3): friends-to-lovers, slow burn, a bit of angst, time travel, post-canon, non-explicit smut | 14 chapters, 53.8k

Come, You Spirits (AO3): sort-of-sequel to "All Our Yesterdays", fluff, funny, spooky, established relationship | One-shot, 4.6k

Time Out in the Upside Down (AO3): "Stranger Things" x "Timewasters" crossover, funny | One-shot, 1.8k

Leonard Bast (Howards End)

Through the World's Far Ends (AO3): Leonard x Helen fix-it, World War I, angst, hurt/comfort | One-shot, 7.2k

Prince Paul (Catherine the Great)

The Firebird (AO3): fairytale AU, magic, adventure, slow burn, non-explicit smut | 16 chapters, 66.7k

Michael (Hoard)

Love, If You're Near (AO3): angst, hurt/comfort | One-shot, 6.8k

Derwin Grunauer (Overlord)

As the Sun Will Rise (AO3): post-WWII, Beauty and the Beast retelling | 21 chapters, ~82k

Emperor Geta (Gladiator 2)

Fallen Empires (coming soon): canon divergent, alternate history, slow burn | 20 chapters, ~70k

Hellcheer Masterlist

[multistoty]

@literatae @bcbliophile @iknowmetal @ravkanwings

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Who dyou think Agatha’s favourite composer is?

Ooooo now this is a question!

Agatha Harkness is definitely a lover of classical music. Canonically speaking, she was alive from the Baroque period on so she's heard it allll. This might be controversial..but I see her enjoying Stravinsky. If we're going to be honest, she was most likely at the riot that followed his premiere of The Rite of Spring and most definitely had a great time. But I just know she gets down to Firebird.

Other options besides Stravinsky would be Tchaikovsky, probably Mahler, and possibly Shostakovich.

Thank you sm this was so funnn <3

[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

A Tide That Turned Everything: Chapter VII - I Loved, Love and Will Love You Forever

Chapter Summary: Ilya Morozova saves Aleksander and gives you a way to be with your lover maybe even forever. Your loyalty to General Kirigan forces you once again to make a life-changing choice. But not only you. Aleksander has to choose as well. Power… or you. Is he ready to throw all he's built for a Tidemaker that was once a serving girl?

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader, Alina Starkov/Mal Oretsev, Ivan/Fedyor Kaminsky

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader, Fedyor Kaminsky, Ivan, Mal Oretsev, Zoya Nazyalensky, Nikolay Lantsov, Ilya Morozova, Genya Safin, David Kostyk, Baghra, Tamar Kir-Bataar, Tolya Yul-Bataar

Word Count: 4284

A/N: Smut alert (a really short). If you don't like it or are underage, don't read from: "You quickly undress each other." to: "He falls on the blanket next to you and pulls you to himself.". Enjoy! Inspired by prompts: https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089554941/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089559859/

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

'He'll live,' the man (Morozova?) says, leaving his hut. You, Fedyor and Ivan jump, startled. You look at him with wide eyes.

'How did you do that?' Ivan asks with disbelief.

'I think the reason why we were waiting here is because he doesn't want us to know,' Fedyor points out. Ivan glares at him.

'Can I see him?' you ask the man.

'He's asleep, but sure,' he answers and leads you inside. You follow him into the sleeping area. Aleksander is sleeping peacefully. You're not sure, but you think his scars are a bit less visible.

'Thank you,' you say, sitting by his side.

'You're not even sure if whatever I did worked,' the man scoffs. You smile slightly.

'You're Ilya Morozova, aren't you?' you ask. You're met with silence. You turn your head and see the man looking at you with shock.

'How?' he asks, his voice a whisper.

'I saw a glimpse of your handwriting in one of your notebooks,' you explain. 'And for the past weeks I've been studying your diaries in hopes of finding a cure for him. And… there was something familiar in you. I couldn't put a finger to it but now I know. Your eyes. He has the same eyes as you.'

Morozova looks at you in silence. You're wondering whether he considers killing you for discovering his secret. You wait patiently for his decision.

'How's Baghra?' he asks instead. This throws you off.

'She was fine last time I saw her,' you answer. 'She asked me to save her son. But I'm not sure if she survived the battle.'

'Oh, she did,' Morozova huffs. 'She's always been tough. She raised him to be the same. She made some mistakes. But so did I. And so did he. But you know what always brings members of our family back on track?'

You shake your head. Morozova steps closer to you and touches with his finger your chest on the left side.

'People important to us,' he explains. 'I saw how that boy looked at you. My daughter was right to ask you to save him. You're the only one who can do it.'

'You're the one who did,' you say, confused.

'I saved his body,' he agrees. 'But you're the only one who can save his soul. It's not too late for him. When he wakes up, tell him he either stops… or he will lose you. One way or another.'

'I can't leave him,' you say after a beat. Morozova smiles wryly and exits the room. You turn back to Aleksander. You watch him, pondering about his grandfather's words. Suddenly, Morozova returns.

'Come with me,' he says. Curious, you follow him. He takes you to the back of his house. You walk to one of the trees on the edge of the forest.

'Look up,' he says. You do as he says and are stunned.

'That's…' you say.

'Dying,' Morozova ends for you and you look at him with wide eyes. 'This firebird has days at most. I resurrected it years ago but now its time is truly done.'

'Resurrected?' you repeat slowly. Morozova looks at you.

'That's the fourth amplifier,' he says. 'And it can be yours.'

'I beg your pardon?' you say in a weak voice. 'I can't-'

'You won't be murdering it,' Morozova huffs. 'Look at it. It's dying already.'

He grabs your shoulders. You're now actually frightened.

'You followed my grandson to hell and back,' Morozova says. 'And you'd probably do it again. You proved you're willing to die for him. But are you ready to live for him?'

You stare at him. Your lower lip trembles.

'You're a very powerful Grisha,' Morozova says and you frown. 'I can feel it. In your bones and blood. You're destined for a long life. If you can make it. But with that amplifier? You can be by his side forever. I know he would want that.'

You freeze. Would he really?

'You don't have to kill it now,' Morozova says after a moment.

'Oh, thank Saints,' you say, relieved.

'Talk to him first,' Morozova goes one. 'Tell him he can have it. Do it for him. If he agrees to stop pursing his noble but mad goals. They only bring destruction… and can cause him death of his loved ones.'

You're stunned to see tears in his eyes. Your look softens. You touch his cheek. He winces but doesn't pull away.

'Thank you,' you say.

'Will you do it?' Morozova asks. You shrug.

'I don't know,' you answer honestly. 'But thanks to you, I have a new option now. A chance to be by his side.'

'Living forever is not easy,' Morozova warns you.

'It's better if you share it with someone you love,' you counter. He sighs and nods.

'Whatever you two will decide,' Morozova says, 'your love will prevail everything.'

'I know,' you say with a smile and look behind your shoulder at the hut. 'But are we both going to agree what's the best way to make sure of it?'

*

You're sitting by Aleksander's side, watching the sun setting outside of the window. Morozova's words play in your head. All this time you've tried not to think about the moment when your time would come. You've tried to focus on the present, on making sure Aleksander survives. He will, you know that, even his scars are almost gone. So… what now?

'You're really set on changing our tradition,' a familiar voice says. You flinch and look down. Aleksander is smiling at you.

'Our places switched,' he says. Your lips twitch upward.

'Looks like it,' you say. You reach for a glass of water. He sits down and you help him drink it.

'How are you feeling?' you ask when he's done.

'Better than I have had in weeks,' Aleksander answers and looks at you softly. 'Thank you. You saved me.'

'Seemed fair to return the favour,' you say. 'You do it all the time. And I love you, there's that as well. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you.'

'Your loyalty is truly extraordinary,' Aleksander says after a beat, looking on your hand that is resting on his. 'I'm grateful for it. But I hate myself how much it all have cost you.'

He looks away. You think carefully on your next words.

'Aleksander,' you finally say softly. 'Look at me.'

Kirigan turns his head. There's sadness and something else you can't quite place in his eyes.

'I will never regret loving you,' you say and he raises his eyebrows at you. 'Truly. You gave me something amazing. All the moments with you were beautiful. True, I've lost something and I was hurt many times. But it was all worth it. You were worth it.'

Aleksander smiles at you. He takes your hand in his and squeezes it. You squeeze back.

'Which is why I don't think we should return,' you say and feel Aleksander stiffen under your touch. 'I don't want them to kill you.'

'Every great thing demands taking a risk and sometimes even a sacrifice,' Kirigan says. 'But, I'm stronger now. They won't win this easily next time.'

'What if I'm the sacrifice?' you ask and Aleksander looks at you with a sharp look but you don't let him speak. 'I'm not immortal. I'm powerful and my life will be longer than most Grisha, but I'm not immortal. One day I will die. If we continue with fighting with them, it can be even shorter. And even if not, this war may never end and we'll spend our whole time together fighting. Do you really want that?'

Aleksander doesn't answer. He looks away. You can see the battle in his eyes. You let go of his hand.

'Think about it,' you say and stand up. 'I'll ask Ivan to bring you something to eat. You rest.'

You don't even give him a chance to reply. You leave the room, hoping that this time he'll choose you.

When you see him next time, you're sitting outside the hut, watching the stars. He joins you, apparently feeling much better.

'Nothing hurts,' he says before you can ask him about it. 'Everyone else has gone to sleep. Why didn't you?'

'I have too many thoughts in my head,' you answer. 'But you should rest.'

'I've slept enough,' Aleksander replies. 'Besides, I have too many thoughts in my head as well.'

You hum and nod. You watch the stars in silence for some time.

'What would I do?' Aleksander asks. 'One day I'm going to lose you anyway. If we walk away and have a peaceful life… what would I do when you're gone? Because I think I'd go mad.'

'And what would you do if we continue fighting and my time comes?' you ask quietly.

'I'd either continue to fight or try to preserve what we achieved,' Aleksander answers. 'Killing my enemies would definitely help me with my heartache. I don't know what could possibly help it if we choose a different path.'

'What if we had forever?' you ask hesitantly. 'If I was like you? Never aging, never dying? Would you choose me, then?'

Aleksander gives you a scolding look. Probably for the way you put it.

'If I could stay by your side forever…' he says, taking your hands in his, '… I'd take you to the far end of the world. To keep you safe from every suspicion and harm. To have a peaceful and happy life you deserve.'

You stare at him in silence. Your heart is beathing fast. Maybe…?

'Come with me,' you say after a moment, standing up and pulling him with you. You take him to the back of the house. You reach the tree line.

'Look up and tell me what you see,' you tell Aleksander. He frowns but does as you say.

'What is that?' he asks when he notices a firebird. 'Some bird?'

'A firebird,' you answer and Aleksander looks at you with wide eyes. 'Your grandfather made another amplifier. But it's dying.'

'If you were to k- let it out of its misery…' Kirigan says, getting excited.

'I could live as long as you,' you agree, nodding. 'At least according do your grandfather.'

Silence falls between you two. Aleksander takes your hand and gently traces line on it.

'I know you have a kind soul and killing such creature is not something you would normally do…' he says slowly, '… but it's going to die anyway, you said so.'

'Say I do it,' you say after a beat. 'What then?'

'We wait for me to get back to my full strength and-' Aleksander says.

'And?' you ask. He caresses your cheek.

'With your power amplified by such creature we would be unstoppable,' he says. 'But you're right. Your loyalty to me cost you already so much. I've lost you, I hurt you and… I want you to be happy.'

He hums, suddenly becoming pensive. You tilt your head, curious.

'Making sure Grisha are safe and have a good life used to be my priority,' he says and cups your face. 'But now… I just want you to keep smiling. Your happiness is my priority.'

You smile at him. He presses his forehead to yours.

'So… just say a word and we will leave,' he says. 'Leave all this mess, Ravka… hoping Alina and others actually can make something of it. And I'll take you to the end of the world, do what you did: throw everything for the one I love.'

You press your lips to his. You share a kiss, then you pull slightly away and whisper:

'Yes…'

*

Alina sighs and looks around the streets of a city of Novyi Zem. She liked this country when she was here with Mal, all those years ago. It still dazzles her. She smiles and turns around.

'Are you coming?' she asks. Her husband huffs but smiles.

'Yes, yes, oh great Ambassador of Ravka,' he says with mock seriousness. Alina rolls her eyes.

'Stop it,' she says. Mal reaches her and takes her hand in his. They start walking together.

'Where are we supposed to meet with the rest?' the tracker asks after a moment.

'The market,' Alina answers. 'We should be the first ones to arrive.'

And so a few or more minutes later, they arrive at the market. They both look around in amazement. Until Alina sees something that causes her to freeze.

'What is it?' Mal asks, noticing his wife's distress. He follows her gaze and is stunned as well.

A few metres from them there are you. You're buying something with a small smile on your face. The vendor is chatting with you with a grin, clearly acquittanced with you.

'Why is she here?' Mal asks quietly.

'And why now?' Alina ponders. She exhales slowly and makes up her mind. When you walk away from the vendor, she walks after you.

'[Y/N],' she calls quietly. You stop and stiffen. Slowly, you turn around with wide eyes.

'Alina,' you say and look behind her. 'Mal. Saints. It's been years.'

'It has,' the tracker says, standing next to Alina. Their fingers entwine. You can't help but smile.

'You're still together,' you say. 'I'm glad. Truly. And that you're well.'

'You seem to be well, too,' Alina says cautiously. You nod.

'I am,' you confirm. 'I've heard Ravka is doing well, too. Thanks to you and Nikolay.'

'We're trying,' Alina says.

'But it hasn't been easy, since we're always worried that the Darkling is going to suddenly show up and try to take it all away again,' Mal adds. His wife huffs and glares at him. You smile slightly.

'He won't,' you assure them. They look at you sceptically.

'[Y/N] [L/N],' you hear behind you. You turn and see Nikolay coming to you with Zoya, Tolya and Tamar. You bow your head to him.

'I'm glad to see you in good health,' he says.

'Thank you, I'm glad you're well, too,' you say. Nikolay nods to you and puts his hands behind his back.

'Are you going to tell me the news I've been waiting to hear for years?' he asks. Alina exhales slowly, trying to calm down. Why does she have to be surrounded by men with no empathy?

'I'm afraid not, Your Highness,' you say with that smile again. They all stiffen.

'He's alive?' Tamar asks gravely.

'How?' Mal asks, astonished. 'He was dying.'

'As if [Y/N] would allow him to just die,' a voice says. Fedyor and Ivan join your group. The latter is glaring at Nikolay and others.

'What, she just willed him to live?' Zoya scoffs.

'No, but she found a way,' Fedyor answers. 'You look lovely as ever, dear Zoya.'

'I know,' the Squaller says. The Heartrender chuckles. You turn to Nikolay.

'You don't have to worry,' you assure him. 'None of us intends to attack your country.'

'Forgive me that I won't take your word for it,' Nikolay says. You smile.

'I understand,' you say. 'I probably wouldn't in your place as well. But we like our quiet life here. He even admits from time to time you're doing a surprisingly good job with uniting Grisha and otkazat'sya. But he complains a lot, too.'

'And you're living happily and peacefully here?' Tamar asks.

'Maybe here, maybe somewhere else,' you say. 'But happily and peacefully, yes.'

'We don't wish you ill,' Ivan speaks up and looks at Alina. 'And you promised to let us go. So if you excuse us…'

'Of course,' Nikolay says. 'You're free to go. Just try not to plan another attack or something. Then our deal would be no longer valid.'

'Naturally,' you say and smile. 'Take care, Nikolay. I think you're doing a really good job. You're far better king than your father was. And your brother ever could be.'

'Thank you,' Nikolay says. 'And I'm sorry for the hurt they caused you.'

'Thank you,' you say quietly. You look at Alina and Mal. Before you can open your mouth, Alina pulls you in for a hug.

'I miss you,' she murmurs. 'But I'm glad you're okay. And happy.'

'I feel exactly the same,' you whisper and pull away. Mal hugs you briefly as well. You nod at others and leave with your Heartrenders.

'Do you think we can trust them?' Tolya asks, watching you.

'Hard to say,' Nikolay sighs. 'Alina?'

The Sun Summoner doesn't answer at once. She watches as you encounter surprised Genya and David. The Tailor quickly hugs all three of you. David is a bit more reserved. You say something to him, looking at him apologetically. He shakes his head and you smile.

'I want to trust her,' Alina finally says. 'But I don't know if-'

She cuts herself off, seeing now Baghra joining you. You smile softly and pull her aside. You talk quietly and she looks at you with shock. Alina can swear she sees tears in the old woman's eyes. She nods and says something to you.

You smile and turn to leave. But then Baghra grabs your left arm and turns it to look at your wrist. She looks you in the eyes, shocked. You calmly return her stare. She lets you go and you leave. A moment later Baghra, Genya and David join their friends.

'Did you see them?' the Tailor asks. Others nod.

'We've talked with them a moment before you,' Tamar answers. 'They claim they don't have any nefarious plans, but we're not sure we can trust them.'

'We can,' Baghra says, surprising everyone.

'How can you be sure?' Nikolay asks. Baghra smiles slightly.

'Because she saved him,' she answers. 'In more ways than you think.'

'What was that you saw on her wrist?' Zoya asks.

'The thing that makes me sure my son will always choose a peaceful way of life,' Baghra answers and walks to their next destination. Others exchange a confused look. Alina shrugs and follows the old woman. The rest does the same, not really having another choice.

*

You, Fedyor and Ivan reach your small hut at the edge of town. Outside Aleksander is sitting on a bench, busy with fixing a chair. He smiles when he notices your arrival.

'You can say it,' Ivan says. You sigh.

'What exactly?' Aleksander asks.

'You know what thing,' Fedyor explains, amused.

'Ah,' Aleksander says, understanding, and chuckles. He looks at you with raised eyebrows. You glare at him.

'I told you so,' he says anyway. You groan.

'Yes, you said we're going to meet with Alina and others since they're here and we did,' you admit, annoyed. 'Happy now?'

'Very,' Aleksander says, standing up to kiss your forehead. 'Did they give you any trouble?'

'No, but we had to tell them you're alive,' you answer. 'They asked about it and the twins were with them, so they would have told if I had lied.'

Aleksander nods, understanding. Ivan and Fedyor walk inside. Kirigan takes your hand in his.

'Your mother was there as well,' you say.

'What did you tell her?' Aleksander asks.

'That her father is still alive,' you answer. 'Well, he was when we met him. I passed her what he had asked me to tell her. That he regrets many things, one of them how things went with them. I also told her she's welcome to live with us if she wants.'

'And what did she say to that?' Aleksander asks, not sure what answer he wants to hear. You smile and peck his cheek.

'That she'll think about it,' you answer and walk inside. 'Oh, she also noticed my amplifier.'

Aleksander follows you inside. You wave your right wrist at him, where Morozova put a bone of the firebird.

'What did she say to that?' Kirigan asks, leaning on the doorframe. You pause.

You saved him…

'That it suits me,' you answer with a smile. You unpack groceries. After a moment you feel arms around your waist. You lean into Aleksander's chest, sighing softly.

'Were they worried?' Aleksander asks. You roll your eyes.

'Obviously,' you answer. 'But I think Baghra will convince them we're really no longer a threat to them. Nikolay also apologised. For what his father and brother did to me.'

'Noble of him,' Kirigan says.

'Actually, that reminded me,' you say. 'The way you told Genya to kill the king… Poison. It was deliberate, wasn't it?'

Aleksander is silent. You look at him. He reaches out and puts a strand of your hair behind your ear.

'He made you drink poison made for me, so I thought he should see what it's like,' he admits. 'Of course, it was a different type of poison, it got to his system by touching Genya, so it wouldn't be too suspicious, but that was enough for me.'

'You also decided on this because he suffered more and longer, right?' you guess.

'Maybe,' Aleksander says, grinning cheekily. You scoff and shake your head, but smile.

'And did it feel good?' Kirigan asks suddenly. 'To see your friends again?'

'Yes,' you confirm. 'I also made peace with Genya and David.'

Silence falls between you. Aleksander sighs.

'Maybe I should do it as well,' he says.

'It is a good opportunity,' you admit. Aleksander hums.

'Maybe tomorrow,' he decides. 'They will be in town for a few days, after all.'

'And what are you planning to do today?' you ask.

'Well, I thought about spending it with my wife,' Aleksander answers playfully. You smile. You think about the moment from few years ago.

You know, there one thing bad about us giving up.

And it is?

I screwed up. I can't marry you now.

Oh? And who said so?

… Will you really? Marry me, I mean?

Yes.

… Ivan! Where's the nearest chapel?!

'Sounds like a plan,' you say and turn around. 'But who will cook dinner?'

'Ivan and Fedyor will manage,' Aleksander answers and takes your hand. 'Now come.'

You chuckle and let him take you outside. He takes you to a meadow full of flowers. You see picnic blanket and basket. You smile.

'That looks nice,' you say.

'Of course, it does, I prepared it,' Aleksander says. You roll your eyes. You sit on a blanket and start your picnic. But you can tell Kirigan's mind is not really there.

'Hey,' you say, touching his hand. 'What's wrong?'

'Are you happy?' Aleksander asks, very serious. You give him a surprised look.

'Yes, very,' you answered. 'What brought this on?'

'I often think that you deserve a better life,' Aleksander admits. 'That you were meant for more. That if you hadn't had followed me, your life would be different. More respectful. I ruined your life.'

He looks at you with pain in his eyes. But he's surprised to see you looking at him calmly. You cup his face.

'And to this day, I feel nothing but love for you,' you say, stunning him. 'Yes, my life could have gone differently. But I don't want anything different. I have you. That's all I ever needed or wanted. No matter how hard it gets, all will be well. Because we're together. I look toward our future with a smile on my face.'

Aleksander chuckles. Pain in his eyes turns to relief.

'I feel exactly the same,' he says and touches your forehead with his. 'I'm happy. I really am. I can't remember the last time I was this happy before I met you.'

You smile at each other. You kiss. It becomes more heated.

'Tell me… have you ever had sex outdoors?' Aleksander murmurs. Your eyes light up.

'I can't tell I have,' you answer. Kirigan smirks at you and starts kissing your neck. Slowly, his kisses go lower and lower. You quickly undress each other. Aleksander lays you down on the blanket.

'Tell me what you want,' he says, his voice husky. You lift your head and join your lips.

'I want you,' you whisper. 'Only you.'

Aleksander smiles and touches your womanhood. You sigh softly when he starts touching it.

'You make such pretty noises for me,' he murmurs, putting a finger inside you. You want to retort but he finds just the spot to cause you to moan. He gives it more attention, but doesn't forget about your clit.

'Please,' you whisper. Aleksander massages and fingers you for a moment longer. Then, he kisses you. You sigh in his lips and moan when he enters you. Kirigan groans and starts moving in you.

'You always feel so good, [Y/N],' he says and speeds up. He presses kisses to your breasts. You gasp.

'More,' you moan. 'Please, Aleksander, more! Harder!'

'Your wish is my command, lapushka,' Aleksander says and kisses you. He hits you at the right spots with a perfect force.

'Aleksander!' you gasp. 'Aleksander!'

'[Y/N]…' Kirigan groans. 'My [Y/N]…'

'Yours…' you confirm, cupping his face and pressing kisses to it. 'Only yours.'

'And I'm yours,' Aleksander says, looking at you with love, lust and adoration. 'My little tide.'

You smile and then gasp when Kirigan speeds up even more. You both moan and groan for the next few minutes. Finally, he spills inside you and you come around him as well, both of you screaming each other's names. He falls on the blanket next to you and pulls you to himself.

'I love you, [Y/N],' Aleksander says. 'My heart beats for you.'

You smile and snuggle into him. He holds you tighter.

'And I love you, Aleksander,' you murmur. 'So much, my pretty boy.'

Kirigan grins. He kisses the top of your head.

'We're gonna be together forever, right?' you ask.

'Forever,' Aleksander confirms. 'And one day more.'

A/N: Thank you so much for giving this story a chance and reading it! It's the end of the story of General and his Tidemaker. I hope you liked it. Please, let me know what you think with comments, reblogs and likes. As to what's next, I have some ideas, but I'm not sure when I will post something new with this pair. But let me know if you prefer fics with more chapters, like "A Tale of Stolen Hearts" or fics with less chapters joined in a series, like this one. That's it from me! Take care and see you in the next fic!

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49965037/chapters/126897283

[cilil]

Scribbles & Drabbles overview

An overview of my works for @fall-for-tolkien's Scribbles & Drabbles event!

𝑹𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝟐𝟓𝒕𝒉 ~ now live!

𝑳𝒐𝒏𝒈(𝒆𝒓) 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔

✧˖ "Wings Of War, Beating No More" for @ruiniel

Two Maiar meet after the war, one chasing a long lost lover, the other seeking something else. [Eönwë x Mairon]

✧˖ "Of Secret Shadow" for @ruiniel

A Maia awakens with no memories of who she used to be. Melkor offers her a second chance. [Thuringwethil character exploration]

✧˖ "The King's and Queen's Comfort" for @the-red-butterfly

After discovering the Dwarves and arguing with Aulë, Yavanna seeks comfort from her fellow Valar. Manwë and Varda take care of her until her sorrows and worries are soothed. [Threesome, smut]

✧˖ "Floating World" for @melkors-big-tits

After tedious war meetings at the Emperor's palace, Mairon decides to enjoy himself in the capital's most renowned brothel, the Taniquetil. As he searches for a courtesan to catch his interest, he finds something rather unexpected - something the Emperor himself has attempted to keep hidden... [Angbang, Edo Japan AU]

𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕(𝒆𝒓) 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔

✧˖ "Shrine to Melkor" for @cclumsyart

There are shrines to all Ainur in Valinor, even the fallen and disgraced among them. In which Nienna visits Melkor's shrine and reminisces.

✧˖ "Shrine to Námo" for @cclumsyart

There are shrines to all Ainur in Valinor, even the fallen and disgraced among them. In which a mysterious visitor seeks out Námo's shrine to pray for a loved one.

𝑴𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓

✧˖ "Electricity between both of us" (Glorestor ficlets) for @sortumavaara

✧˖ "Of hunters, horses and other hijinks" (ficlets centered around Aredhel, Celegorm, Oromë, dogs and horses) for @ela-draws and @goschatewabn

✧˖ "Of Fire and Feathers" (Gothmog x Eönwë | Firebird ficlets) for @i-did-not-mean-to

✧˖ "5 times Melkor came for coffee & 1 time Mairon got himself a snack" (Angbang Coffeeshop AU) for @melkors-big-tits

✧˖ "Miscellaneous Melkor Mayhem" (naughty Melkor ficlets) for @melkors-big-tits

✧˖ "Handmaiden's Tale" (Melkor x Tulkas, dead dove - please heed the warnings) for @melkors-big-tits

✧˖ "Brotherly Love" (Melkor x Manwë, dead dove - please heed the warnings) for @melkors-big-tits

𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔

✧˖ "Silver & Gold" for @welcomingdisaster

Míriel and Indis, silver and gold. A moment of tenderness and passion. [Smut]

✧˖ "Moonrise" for @niennawept

Watching the moon in the sky, Aredhel remembers. [Aredhel x Tilion]

✧˖ "Heart" for @mulasawala

[Modern verse, Bagginshield, Thorin has a band] Thorin comes back from his tour and reunites with his boyfriend.

✧˖ "Sweet Oil" for @z-h-i-e

Maitimo and Tyelkormo cook together. Nothing could possibly go wrong, especially nothing related to suspicious bottles and ingredients not meant for cooking.

✧˖ "A private conversation" for @sortumavaara

[AU in which Nerdanel and Anairë are co-rulers of Tirion after the departure of their husbands] Nerdanel and Anairë discuss the future of the Noldor in Valinor and the challenges they face.

✧˖ "The Meadow" for @ruiniel

[AU in which Míriel and Indis are engaged, no Finwë in sight] Míriel and Indis, strolling through Valinor together.

✧˖ "Ascension" for @the-red-butterfly

The king is dead, and Thranduil has to ascend.

✧˖ "Checking In" for @fishing4stars

Galadriel and Celeborn enjoy a game of chess.

✧˖ "Play, Pleasure & Passion" for Lferion

Nerdanel and Fëanor get ready for a night of passion.

✧˖ "Jelly and Gemstone" for @i-did-not-mean-to

A certain suspicious gem has turned up once again, and Ossë chases down a mischievous little water spirit to get it back.

✧˖ "The Start of the Journey" for @elennalore

Fëanor and Nerdanel, after their first journey together.

✧˖ "Alliance" for @goschatewabn

A chance meeting between Fëanor and Indis leads to something Finwë didn't expect.

✧˖ "Northern Lights" for Anne_Wolfe

How Arien lost a loved one and how northern lights came to be. [Arien x Mairon]

✧˖ "Only one bed (and a Balrog on it)" for @i-did-not-mean-to

A Balrog and a vampire are looking for a place to nap. Unfortunately, there is only one bed. [Nári (OC) & Thuringwethil]

✧˖ "Ever upon the shores" for @searchingforserendipity25

Wandering upon the shores, Maglor wonders if the powers that used to be his allies have utterly forsaken him. [Maglor & Ulmo, Ossë, Uinen]

✧˖ "You have mail (delivered by the Lord of Dreams himself)" for @i-did-not-mean-to

Irmo has a gift for Melkor. Melkor is not happy.

✧˖ "A New Age" for @ruiniel

[Dark cyber!Valar AU in which Melkor won the Dagor Dagorath and the Valar were captured, trapped in their fánar and twisted into new forms] They all were changed by Melkor's dark arts, and everything seems lost. Nienna, however, still has her brothers.

✧˖ "The Sorrows of Young Maedhros" for @goschatewabn

[Set during Maitimo's awkward teenage years] In which little brothers are exhausting, Fëanor and Nerdanel are trying their best and Maitimo just wants to keep a secret in peace.

✧˖ "Ineffable, Inconceivable Future" for @i-did-not-mean-to

Námo has a gift for Manwë - though is it quite what it appears to be?

✧˖ "They Loved Him For His Beauty" for @the-red-butterfly

Eärendil loses his ship during a storm, yet somehow wakes up very much alive. Who saved him? And how will he get to Valinor now?

✧˖ "Delightful Secret" for @sortumavaara

Celebrían has been turned into a man and intends to make use of it. Elrond finally admits to a certain secret fantasy he's always harboured. [Smut]