#I kin him too pity me

[vinegar-rights]

Sorry

[fairysluna]

"look what you do to me" with ye olde cregan I BEG

worthy of you.

Cregan thinks his little brother is not worthy of a woman like you, which is why he takes the opportunity to show you that he is the one for you.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader / (Side) Masc!OC x Fem!Reader.

TAGS — smut (f!oral sex, p in v, praise kink, loss of virginity), mentions of cheating, mentions of alcohol consumption, cursing, OC is a terrible man, older!cregan, widower!cregan, age gap (early 20s and early 30s). If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — first of all, a big thank you to my gorgeous @bucknastysbabe for being my beta reader and helping me edit this, ily!! i got a bit inspired by this plot and it's longer than i expected💀

Thank you Bel for sending this request because i loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy it!!🤍

WORD COUNT — 4.3k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

How cruel were the gods when they put you in his brother's arms instead of the ones you craved the most.

The first time that Lord Stark laid his eyes upon you, he felt the air leaving his lungs, and his voice being caged inside his throat. His eyes immediately widened at the beautiful sight of you, bewitched by the way you so politely greeted him, and mesmerized by the way you uttered his name. Cregan was in awe, trying to ignore the feeling in his gut and the quickened pace of his heart as he smelled the sweet scent of vanilla coming from your hair. He wondered if you were some kind of nymph, effortlessly enchanting him with a single glance. 

After the loss of his wife, few were the women who managed to catch his eye. A couple of balls were made, and they all resulted in the same thing; a group of ladies following him around, showering him with shallow compliments and words that he did not wish to hear. 

How lucky he felt when he saw you walking in with your father, Lord Reed, into the ballroom, and how miserable he left that night after learning you were betrothed to his young brother; Edrik, a careless young man who —according to Lord Stark— is not worthy of you. At all. He's ruthless, the opposite of a chivalrous man. Cregan knows that while you were waiting for him for dinner, he's fucking some whores in brothels and paying with gold that he would steal from Cregan's chambers. He despised him. He was ashamed of him, and his behaviour towards you. You were a lady, a delicate and sweet girl who could have found someone better. 

Someone like himself, he would think. 

At that moment, while you were nervously chewing your nails sitting at the small table of your chambers as you drank tea, Cregan was out there searching for his younger brother, and trying to force him back to the Winterfell castle. That very same day was supposed to be your wedding, and the groom was nowhere to be seen. You knew better than to cry, you didn't want to suffer for him anymore; so you just sat there, slowly tapping your fingertips against the delicate porcelain of the cup, staring at the crackling fireplace and thinking about something else. 

At that point, you were just begging for him to be alive and well. Nothing more. 

A few minutes passed when you saw Cregan entering your chambers with his grey eyes staring intensely at you as he walked inside. His heavy boots stumped against the wooden floor, prompting you to stand up a bit too quickly. You noticed the pitiful look in his eyes when he noticed you were still wearing that white wedding dress; his heart shattered for you. 

“Did you find him?” you dared to speak first. Somehow, your voice came out colder than both of you expected.

“We did,” he nodded. “He was in a brothel… drunk and enjoying his last hours of freedom, as he said.” The annoyed tone of his voice was quite clear to hear as he spat every single word with rage and even shame. 

Gods forgive him for this insurmountable wrath towards his kin. 

“Where is he now?” The question slipped out of your lips merely out of habit. 

“In his chambers, being bathed by one of the maids,” Cregan explained, unable to bear the vision of your tears gathering in the corner of your eyes. He sought to look at a place over your shoulder, just to ease the ache in his chest.

It wasn't sadness, not at all. It was ire; he knew it. It was supposed to be your special day, and your betrothed decided to ruin it, though you were not surprised.

“Is it the maid that sucks his cock every morning? Or is it the one that let him fuck her in the arse?” you mockingly mentioned, lifting the cup of tea and sipping it slowly. The knot in your throat was becoming unbearable, too tight and barely letting you utter a word. 

Cregan's eyes softened with sorrow. “My lady,” he started, daring to take a step closer to you. The small rounded table was the only thing keeping you two apart. “Allow me to apologize for the misbehaviour of my brother, you deserve the utmost respect from whoever is lucky enough to marry you. Edrik is childish, and his actions often bring shame to our family name.”

“You shall not apologize for your brother's mistakes,” you softly said, sighing tiredly at this situation repeating over and over again. “You're an honourable man, Lord Stark, it's a pity your brother is not even half of the man you are.” 

Cregan felt his heart tapping against his chest, even under those thick layers of fur, he was still able to hear how fast it was beating. His eyes briefly looked away from you out of shyness, feeling so flustered by your mere presence. Oh, gods, this was excruciating; seeing you there with your beautiful eyes staring up at him, looking so fragile and bewitching. The white dress fit you perfectly, you were radiant that night, and he cursed at his brother for looking down on you. 

Edrik was a dumb boy. Luckily, Cregan was a wise man. 

“It pains me to know he doesn't appreciate you,” he muttered as he took unhurried steps closer to you. “You deserve so much more.” 

“It's the best I can get, I suppose,” you shrugged. “At least my betrothed is indulging his uncontrollable lust with whores instead of forcing himself on me. It could be worse.” 

“But it's not supposed to be bad at all,” Cregan discussed. “A husband has to provide for his wife, and treat her with respect.”

His hand approached your left cheek and he placed it there, cupping your face. Your soft skin felt his calloused fingers and suddenly all the air of your lungs vanished. Your lips parted, and that simple gesture blurred Cregan's mind with the urge to devour them. As he looked down at you, you could see in his eyes that there was a rare sparkle in them. It was so mesmerizing. 

“I guess you're asking too much from your brother, my Lord.”

He scoffed.

“If only the gods had been more merciful of us, you would be my wife instead,” he mentioned with a wistful tone. He took another step, and now you were able to smell the pine scent from his clothes. “We probably would be in our private celebration by now.” 

You sighed delightedly as his thumb went to your lower lip, lightly touching it as he glanced at it. Falling in love with him had been so easy; he was so kind, so courteous and gentle. Whenever his brother was cruel and mean to you, he was always there to make you feel good. Many were the times you imagined this wedding being with him instead of Edrik. 

“I would be looking at your beautiful body as you remove this gown. Only for me to see,” he whispered, his touch going downwards until he grabbed the pearls around your neck. “I would take my time to appreciate every single inch of your skin, touching you… kissing you, making sure you know you're the most beautiful maiden in Westeros.” 

His face leaned towards you, and you felt his nose rubbing against your cheek as you closed your eyes. His deep, low voice sent shivers down your spine while your mind was imagining every single word that came out of his plump lips. His touch reached down your sides until you felt his strong grip on your waist. 

Cregan took a deep breath as he smelled your sweet perfume; he couldn't help but sigh. 

“I would pleasure you in so many ways,” he continued, his voice so raspy it made your knees weak. “With my mouth, my hands… until all that comes from your lips is my name.” 

“Cregan…” you breathed out, and he hummed in delight. 

“Yes, just like that.” 

You dared to open your eyes, meeting his and seeing how they were dilated and glazed with lust; yours were probably in the same state. You were able to feel the heat between your legs, almost causing you to squirm to make you feel something. Something to sate the intense desire crawling around your body.

“I would do so many things to you, my darling,” he murmured. “Would you like me to do them?” 

You nodded.

“Yes?” 

“Yes,” you replied, embarrassingly fast. 

His hands went to your back, calloused fingers finding their way to untie your gown. Your chest was against his, and the closeness did nothing but increase your desperation to have him. 

“My brother doesn't deserve you, does he? He is just a stupid boy, and you deserve a man.” You felt the dress loosening around your body and you swallowed hard at the expectation. “Please, let me be that man for you…” 

You were unable to bear it any longer, the temptation being too much. You closed the distance between you two at the same time he started to slip the dress down your body — until it pooled around your feet. His lips fit perfectly against yours, they were slightly chapped due to the cold, yet they felt heavenly. He moaned against your mouth when you boldly deepened the kiss by grabbing Cregan’s nape and pulling him closer to you, all while his hands pressed your lower back. 

It was slow and passionate, taking your breath away as he claimed your mouth with his tongue, swirling against yours and stealing soft whimpers from you. Soon, he grabbed your thighs to lift you and sat you on the table; the cup of tea spilling to stain your white undergown, you couldn't care less. His lips on yours were all you could think of as his hands gripped your body, pressing you against him.

The thin skirt of your undergown lifted as you wrapped your legs around Cregan’s waist, and his hands began to sneak under it to touch the soft skin of your thighs. He left a heat on your body with his fingertips, one that made you desperate to feel him. All while his mouth was reluctant to leave yours, obsessed with the sweet taste of you. He would unconsciously groan, and as he pressed his hips against yours you could easily notice the effect you had on him. 

He pulled away to take a look at you, he found your swollen lips glistening with remains of your and his drool. Your eyes were sparkling as stars and your breathing growing agitated. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that Cregan Stark had fallen in love with you once again at that moment. 

“You should belong to me instead,” he huskily said. “I should be the one who takes your body-”

“Do it,” you interrupted without doublethinking it. Your tone was decided and demanding, it shocked him a little. 

“Oh, my little one…” he murmured with a strained voice as if the thought had left him breathless. 

“I don't want your brother… I never did.” Your confession drew a small smile on his lips. “Since day one all I've wanted is you.” 

He took a deep breath before cupping your face with both of his hands, forcing you to look him in the eye. 

“Look what you do to me,” he murmured as you stared at his face, noticing a rare glow in him. “Believe me when I say your feelings are mutual… you've been on my mind ever since you arrived. It was torturous to see you being disregarded by Edrik while I was sitting there wishing I could just hold your hand. My heart, my body, my soul, it all aches for you. I'm desperate to feel you, and I cannot bear it any longer.” 

The despair in his voice, so clear and vivid. 

“Allow me to do it,” he pleaded, “I'm begging you to let me have a taste of you, at least for a night… so I can finally end this torment.” 

“I will accept,” you managed to say in small gasps. “Only if you promise me this won't be the last time.” 

He nodded. “I promise.”

The time was not wasted, you quickly leaned forward to kiss him again with the same intensity and need as before. Both of you moaned against each other while your hands were swiftly untying his snow-covered coat at the same time his were pulling down your undergown until it fell down your arms. Your breasts were freed and you couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed; no man had seen you in such a vulnerable state before. However, all insecurities vanished from your overthinking mind once he laid his eyes on your chest and sighed, enamoured by the view. 

He gave you a single glance at you to ask for your permission and, once you nodded, his fingers travelled down your body until they trapped your nipples. He gently squeezed them between his digits, soft enough to not cause you any discomfort but hard enough to make them peak. Your mouth was slightly parted, allowing silent gasps to fall down your lips as he admired your pure flesh. He leaned forward then, and you instinctively leaned back; before you noticed his tongue was lapping at one of your sensitive buds, swirling around it and nibbling on it from time to time. You held your body up with your forearms, closing your eyes once he sucked on it. A moan escaped you as he pulled apart from it and went to the other one, giving it the same attention. 

His hand was grabbing the small of your back as you touched his hair, tangling your fingers in his brown locks and pulling them whenever his tongue made you feel butterflies in your belly. It was so good, and you were blissful thinking that you were doing it with him. Your ever-kind and loving Lord of Winterfell.

Suddenly, his mouth traced a path down your body, licking and kissing your belly until he reached your pelvis. You lifted your hips once his hands started to pull down your last vestiges of coverage, and in mere seconds you were completely exposed to him as your cheeks got warm once again. 

Your legs were spread by his hands on your inner thighs, and Cregan was able to see the mess in your core; you were soaking, and his mouth watered with the urge to taste you. For a few seconds, he was just there admiring you, and then he started to kiss your legs from your ankles, all the way to your hips, shamelessly marking you and leaving red bruises behind; you loved it. 

Cregan gave you a quick look, noticing how you were almost shaking with expectation; your eyes reluctant to leave his frame as his thumb spread your swollen lower lips and exposed that little, throbbing button begging for his attention. He stuck out his tongue, slowly brushing it against your clit. You almost died there. Your hand immediately went back to his hair, pulling it a bit too harshly for his liking. 

“Sh…” he cooed, kissing your inner thighs in the meantime. “Come on, little one, let me make you feel good, I know you want it.” 

Gods, you did. You need it.

“Keep your legs open for me, and let me have my feast,” he murmured before his tongue lapped on your pearl again. 

The way he teased your flesh so sensually made your limbs shake. You were gasping as he licked and kissed every single part of you, lurking around and trying to discover your most sensitive spot. Once he found it, you saw stars. 

Your betrothed was far from your mind when Cregan dared to push one of his long, thick fingers inside your weeping hole. You cried out his name as your legs shook around his head and, as he curled up his fingers to rub your walls, you felt a knot in your belly starting to form and begging to be released. Goosebumps erupted over your stimulated body.

“Gods… Cregan!” you found yourself whining. He hummed delighted with the way his name sounded from your lips. 

His tongue fervently began to flick your clit as he added another finger, pumping them slowly but deeply. The sound of your juices coating his digits was becoming addictive; so sinful, yet heavenly. He was desperate to feel you all. 

As he moaned and whimpered against your soaked flesh, you couldn't help but feel an unknown sensation in your gut; as if you were about to explode. Your heart was beating incredibly fast as you leaned your head back and let your mouth spill thousands of obscene sounds; Cregan's cock twitched in his pants the moment he looked up at you. 

Gods, you were so fucking beautiful. It was not fair that you belonged to someone else. 

Suddenly, with a shout of shock, you felt yourself peak. You gasped loudly and you clenched your eyes shut. Cregan felt your walls squeezing his fingers so deliciously as he drank from you and licked you clean. By the end of it, you were sweating, breathing fast and your hips twitching. You turned into a quivering mess.

Cregan lifted his face, giving one wolfish look before quickly grabbing your cheeks. He desperately kissed you as he groaned in ecstasy. You tasted yourself on his lips as he picked you up and took you towards the bed… the very same bed you were supposed to be sharing with your betrothed that night. 

The guilt hit you, briefly making you feel dirty and sullied. But then, as you saw Cregan slowly removing his attires, you remembered who was your betrothed, and what he was doing earlier that day. If he could fuck a whore, why couldn't you fuck another man? You doubted the lesser brother would even notice. 

Besides, it wasn't just a man, it was Cregan. Your Cregan. 

So, now, as the handsome man in front of you removed his last piece of clothing, you felt your walls clench around nothing as you glanced at his cock. His head furiously red, already leaking and twitching as he started to crawl from the bottom of the bed until he was between your legs. He kissed you again, this time slower… more tenderly. You sighed against his lips.

“You're still a maiden,” he said as a statement rather than a question. You nodded, either way, confirming his words. “Then I'll go slow… though I must warn you, it might hurt for a bit, but I promise you, little one, it'll all be worth it in the end.” 

“I trust you,” you whispered as your hand reached his cheek, gently caressing his stubble. 

“Open your legs for me, my darling,” he commanded, and you did as he said. He looked down at your entrance, “seven hells…” he groaned at the sight, before spitting down to his cock and stroking it a few times. Cregan swiped the ruddy tip of his prick against your folds, teasing them to hear you moan one more time before carefully pressing the blunt head against your entrance. 

You cried out once he started to stretch you out, feeling the slight burn that left you breathless as he made his way inside the tight hole between your trembling legs. You closed your eyes and opened your mouth; Cregan noticed your discomfort, so he brought his thumb to your clit, tracing slow circles on it and trying to make you relax. You let out a shaky breath, chest heaving through the pinch.

Your tightness would try to push him away as tried to go deeper, yet he found a way to keep going until he was fully buried inside of you, whimpering your name. Your soft walls felt so fucking good around him, almost making the man drool against your shoulder. His sweaty forehead was pressed against your cheek and you could hear his ragged breathing in your ear, causing chills down your spine. He gave you a moment to forget about the pain, all while he peppered your neck with soft kisses and gentle bites. 

“I think I have just reached heaven,” he murmured, his voice sounding so deep and seductive. “So tight, so small around my cock…” he continued words that left his mouth before he could even think about them. 

“I- I feel so full…” you muttered, feeling his length pulsing inside of you. 

“Shh… I know, my darling, just take deep breaths for me,” he commanded you, and you obeyed. His thumb pushed slightly harder against your clit and you hummed. “Mhm, does that feel nice? My beautiful girl, you're doing such a good job for me,” he praised you, “taking me so well.” 

“Feels good…” you nodded. 

“It does, doesn't it?” he softly chuckled. “Gods, the way your sweet little pussy takes my cock makes me fucking crazy. Can- can I move? Fuck– Is it okay if I start moving?” 

His gentleness and softness did little to make you forget about the way he spoke to you. His dirty words made you clench around his girth, feeling butterflies in your lower belly. You needed Cregan to move and bring back the effervescent heat. 

“Please, do,” you begged, and he wasted no time in obeying. 

His mouth dropped open as he dragged his cock out of your tightness, noticing how it was covered by your slickness. He pushed in again, filling you and causing you to moan in simultaneous discomfort and pleasure. His left hand went to your hip, grabbing your skin and going deeper inside of you. Slowly at first, he started to fasten his pace until the sound of your bodies colliding against each other was mixed with your moans. 

Your hands wrapped around his shoulders as he hid his face on your neck, his harsh breathing causing chills on your skin as he moved slowly but forcefully; such a perfect pace to make you see stars. Your legs were bent at each side of his body, while he took you and claimed your shaky frame. Soon you realized that he had not lied, it felt magnificent once the pain started to fade away. 

His name would escape your lips as if it was an endless chant, incentivizing him to keep going, to continue his movements until you couldn't bear it anymore. A layer of sweat would cover your body as Cregan's weight was on top of you, it felt as if you were burning yet you didn't want to push him away. You craved to feel his skin on you, loving the way his pelvis would brush against your throbbing clit each time he thrusts into you. 

“Fuck, my darling,” he groaned in your ear, “your pussy was made for me to fuck,” he whimpered, biting your earlobe. You replied with a whine. “So fucking delicious, feeling so tight around my cock.” 

Cregan lifted his face to look at your messy state. The eye contact that followed almost made you reach your peak once again, it was all so intense it made your head spin. Your nails dug into his flesh and he whispered your name; you hummed in response. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured.

He further quickened the pace, his cock now touching that sweet spot of yours. Your walls would clench around him as you felt the much-needed orgasm approaching. A ring of your juices appeared on his cock, and he changed positions so now he was on his knees, grabbing your hips and fucking you faster, rougher. 

He saw your breasts bouncing on your chest as he thrusted into you, the sight so arousing that he felt his cock twitch inside of you. His stones were full, ready to burst at any moment now. However, no matter how much he desired it, he knew he just couldn't release inside you. No risks must be taken if he wanted to do this again. 

With your legs spreaded, his thumb effortlessly reached your exposed clits, flicking it and smearing your wetness around it. Your limbs shook as your mind went numb, and soon your orgasms washed over you. You cried out his name, tightening your grip around his cock. 

That's when he pulled out and poured himself on your soaked flesh, staining your folds with his pearly seed. 

Once he took a quick look at you, he felt a coil of raw pleasure snake around his body. A whine left his lips as he wrapped his hand around his length, stroking it a few times to make sure he would cover you with every single drop. He was overstimulated already; sweaty, breathless and flushed. He looked so beautiful like that.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, caressing your thighs. 

You frown, slightly confused. “What- what for?” 

Instead of answering you right away, he leaned and joined his lips with yours, gently and tenderly kissing you. His hands cupped your face and yours laid on his thick arms. A few minutes later, he pulled away only to leave soft kisses all over your face making you giggle. 

“For giving me the honour of making you mine,” he replied. “Though I must confess that I don't think I will be able to live without having you in my bed every night.” 

You felt a smile appearing on your lips and a familiar warmth on your cheeks. 

“Well,” you sighed, “perhaps, you should do something about it.” That flirtatious tone was a bit odd coming from you, but Cregan loved it. 

“Yes,” he nodded, softly chuckling as he leaned to kiss you once more. “I will definitely do something about it.”

@arcielee

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!

[adonis-koo]

wicked • 18

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 12k

Previous | Next | Masterlist

tags: oral (f), tiddie sucking…love kink?, teasing, vaginal fingering, begging, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting (yeah…), soft dom!kook, loss of virginity, penetrative sex, it doesn’t fit, but only for a moment, size kink,  possessiveness, multiple positions, slight spanking, corruption kink if you squint, creampies (wrap it before you tap it, condoms don’t exist in this au so…yknow)

Note: this chapter was not supposed to be so horny but the brain insisted 💅

Chapel bells could be heard, a somber cry of the hazy day ahead, you sniffled trying to get the smell of ash out of your nose, squinting as you glanced through the cracked tent, the sky tinted and hazy.

You didn’t remember the sun looking quite that color, it was distorted from normal, another bell chimed and you could hear the camp from even this distant, a crackle of the fire and a sob.

“Focus!” Baba Enàir slapped the stick in front of your desk making you jump.

“Sorry Baba.”

“You can say sorry to all the folks who rely on your hands to save their kin,” Her eyes glowered down at you, “As for me, you will do good and well to pay attention.”

Your lips twitched as you stared down at your desk, eyes slowly squinting into a glare before briefly glancing behind her once more towards the open flap of the tent where you watched the girls, hands all joined skipping in a circle.

“Why can’t I be excused?” 

Baba Enair’s eyes followed yours as she sighed, perhaps taking pity on you, though if she did her eyes didn’t show it. 

“You are the Princess of Eunoia, the people look to you for hope, not the court girls.” Baba Enair replied, “Your dryad blood allows you to heal in a way other girls cannot, that other people cannot. It isn’t fair, but it’s for the war, the amount of lives you can save alone compares to ten of the court girls. It’s imperative that your skill is honed. Now focus once more.”

You sighed, you had heard the same reason again and again, one day you hoped it would finally mean something to you though, today however, was not that day.

Regardless of how you felt, you stuck your hands back into the moon water, a small beautiful red fish, evidentially dying as it struggled to swim around. 

You closed your eyes.

“Now start your three part breath, calm your mind.” Baba Enair instructed.

You took a deep breath from your stomach, slowly expanding it to your chest and then your throat, finally letting it exhale, after a few more breaths you began to speak.

“Ni esta- upon I cemen, eless- mama na- laiva,” 

“Louder.” Baba Enair commanded.

“Let your coiv- mauime- celusse minna -yes’s eala-“ you winced as you yanked your hands from the water, the water boiling and your lips parting, feeling a piece of your heart crack at the fish, no longer swimming, but floating.

Your eyes watered as your lips trembled, you wanted him to have a peaceful passing, but all you caused was pain…

Baba Enair slapped the stick on your table, “You were too fast, too hasty! Rushing your studies will only make them last longer. Save your tears child, you will have much to cry for if you cannot even heal a fish.”

Your eyes only closed letting the tears stream down your face, the scene shifted, the tent no longer over you, but the sky above.

Thick with clouds of ash and the fire raged on, the sickening smell of death in the air, people groaning in agony and cries of mourning.

“How could you let him die you bitch! He was only a child!”

Your mouth was ajarred as you took an unsteady step back, “I’m- I’m sorry but I tried everything-“ the tent behind you being prepped for the fire, there laid a boy no older than four, a head wound that he had accidentally reopened when he fell down, attempting to play with his friend.

Blood was everywhere, even now covering your hands as tears gathered in your eyes, “I’m sorry.”

The older mother only glared as if you were nothing more than a speck of dirt under her shoe, “You’ve no right to cry!” She screamed out, reaching out as she grabbed your hair making you yelp, “You are no princess of this country! You are nothing! The dryads have abandoned your veins!” 

Guards had already pulled her off but she made sure to shove you down, gravel digging into your palms as sharp jagged pain entered your body.

Tears dripped down your nose as you heard the woman scream and cry, throwing curse words your way only for her voice to be guided elsewhere as her son’s body was carried out of the tent.

Placed into a bag but it was evident he was in there, you glanced at the large bonfire, cowardly. You looked back at the ground, unable to watch them toss his body in.

You heard her wails and cries as the fire burned bright.

And suddenly, it was surrounding you, suffocating you as you cried out, the plead of a child, the skin melting from your hands and-

You gasped, sweat dripping from your body as you sat up in bed, wincing as if something of ash still lingered in your lungs, coughing you grabbed the water carafe from your nightstand, pouring a drink.

Leaning your back against your bed board, it was just a dream…you took a shaky breath, attempting to close your eyes,

‘blood covering your face, skin hanging and cartilage visible’

Your eyes shot back open upon being greeted with Di Jin’s dead face.

It had already been difficult to go to sleep, his cold dead face showing up every time you closed your eyes, or in your dreams once you had finally slept. Tonight had been different though, different difficulties deciding to present themselves this time.

All better forgotten nonetheless.

It had only been two days, and yet, it felt as if no time had passed at all, slowly you peeled the covers off yourself, shivering as you grabbed your nightgown cover, putting the long sleeve on as you walked to the door.

The room suddenly felt too closed in, too suffocating, you needed air.

Opening the door, you were greeted with your personal knight Yoongi, his injuries still healing, but he was doing far better than you.

When the unfortunate event of Di Jin and Seohyun showed up, Yoongi had shown up the morning after, bruised and battered, the entire operation of the tower being sieged a guise to bait him out and even better if it killed him, and worst of all it worked. 

Well, the bit to draw him out, but evidently he was still very much alive.

“Your Highness?” Yoongi raised his brows a little, not surprised to see you up, but a little concern evident in his eyes.

“I wish to go for a walk.” Your voice was a quiet croak, shaky even.

“Of course.” Yoongi replied.

“Can it be…as if I were by myself?” Your lips turned into a small frown.

Yoongi gave you a weak smile, “You won’t even notice me.” 

You nodded before walking past him, a little ways ahead before you could only assume he melded into the shadows, trailing behind unseen but still within a safe distance.

The corridors were empty, save for a few guards who bowed for you before giving you no grief, everyone looked at you differently though. 

It was evident in their eyes, the way they all warily kept a distance. 

Once upon a time, you had gotten used to your title, the Bitch of Eunoia.

But now they had all taken to calling you something different, something new, the Blood-Devoured Bitch. It was a hybrid name, both of Penumbrian and Eunoian background, sickening and yet flattering all the same, it suited you, you supposed.

Stepping out into the courtyard you innately shivered, ice cold air penetrated easily past your cover, wrapping your arms around yourself you took a big breath of air.

It’s crisp cool entered your lungs like new life, and for a moment you felt better.

Sitting down on the bench you curled into yourself, and suddenly the weight of your soul felt heavy again, you were so tired. A type of tired that sleep would not make go away.

Staring at the moon, you let its light be your only comfort, surely better days would come.

Jungkook couldn’t describe his level of worry for you, you had woken up physically fine, a minor wound to your chest where Di Jin had attempted to kill you. But you yourself were not fine.

You looked haunted, any food put in front of you was left untouched, and even if you did eat, you were unable to keep anything down.

Jungkook thought once Wheein was safe, things would get better. But it was clear to him this was hardly the case and what made it worse was you were isolating yourself now, refusing to talk to him or anyone else.

Wheein had desperately wanted to see you but Jungkook firmly sent her back to Skol demanding she take some time to herself, being in the dungeon for the last three weeks was no good for anybody mentally, especially her.

Meanwhile he was left to pick up the pieces of whatever had happened at the estate, and it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. 

He felt horrible, he wanted you to go to the estate because he thought it was safe, but as it turns out, he nearly sent you to your death. He hadn’t pushed the topic with you, left you alone if you didn’t respond.

He just wanted you to be okay, it pained him seeing you like this. 

You felt unreachable, and it made him feel as if he was literally losing his mind.

But tonight was Sunday, the day the family gathered together for dinner, Jungkook’s hopes were low but he could only hope that you would show up, he was worried and even more so at a loss of what to do, or if he could do anything at all.

You killed Di Jin. 

The Eunoian Princess, who had sworn an oath to never kill, who came from a pacifistic nation, who had divine dryad blood running through her veins, killed someone. 

And Jungkook knew you wouldn’t listen to him, it mattered not that you did it in self defense, it didn’t change the fact that you still broke your oath. Dinner had been quiet, nobody talking and this was to be expected, after all, everyone almost murdered your hand maid, you almost died, and then not only killed Di Jin, the kings oldest and dearest friend, but also Seohyun, Jungkook’s old fiancé.

Guards had gone to the estate to clean up the mess only to find her mangled body, torn apart by a wolf- namely yours.

Perhaps it wasn't directly you, but it mattered not, you would still take the guilt.

The doors opened and Jungkook straightened in his seat, you gave a short courtesy before taking your seat next to him, your eyes looked sunken in and it was evident you hadn’t slept a single night. 

Jungkook could feel it clawing at his chest with the urge to do something, anything, but he knew all too well this would be something you would have to reconcile with yourself, in your own time.

Dinner was quiet and his uncle and aunt only murmured conversation, Jungkook could only let out a quiet sigh as he lifted his goblet to his lips, wine almost never solved his problems but it did help him relax. 

“Yes, apparently a wild pack of dogs attacked Vail yesterday,” Jeong Dae’s voice was quiet, Areum’s eyes on him as she took a sip of her wine.

Their voices were the only one’s at the table that have yet to talk, after all they had always managed to keep the conversation going in these awkward events.

You were twirling your soup in its bowl, having not attempted to eat, eyes strictly somewhere between the table and your food.

“Well there needs to be more guards posted in the outer district’s now that this whole assassin business is finished,” Areum replied, leaning back in her chair, “They had four fatality’s which could’ve been prevented with adequate soldiers number’s.”

“Or perhaps we just need better soldiers,” Jeong Dae mused, “Perhaps our War Matron should make her return.”

You finally gathered a spoonful of your soup, watching the steam rise from it’s surface before you pushed it into your mouth. Jungkook wasn’t trying to stare, but it was difficult to look away when you were having to force every drop of broth down.

Areum scoffed, “Unless war is on the horizon I would rather rot. There was only one guard there, and he was passing through on his patrol.” 

You gathered another spoonful, looking at it once more as if having to mentally prepare yourself. 

“Is a shame though,” Jeong Dae sighed, “It was an absolute mess when I arrived, blood everywhere, one of the poor lad’s had his throat ripped out-”

A loud cough cut off the conversation, all eyes on you as you grabbed your mouth, lurching in your seat as if attempting to not vomit, “Excuse me.” You didn’t even so much as wait for a reply, shoving yourself out of your chair and promptly exiting. 

Jungkook was immediately pushing himself out of his chair, not even saying a word as he quickly followed after you. You probably didn’t want to see him, but he simply couldn’t stand watching you like this. 

He needed to do something, anything. 

“Y/n!” He called out as you rushed down the hall. 

You shook your head as you took a sharp left, going down the stairs towards the cellar, Jungkook quickly stepping down the stairs as he called your name once more. 

It was dark and only candles lit the air, dust could be seen if one got too close, walls of wine and dry goods stored as you turned the corner of a storage wall, weaving towards the very back where surely no one would go. 

Jungkook quickly followed behind, turning the last corner of the storage wall before he sighed out, a dead end with you at the last wall, back still turned but your sobs evident, hands covering your eyes as you tried to regain your breath but struggling to do so. 

It came out in choked wheezes as you coughed and gagged, struggling to calm yourself down, flashes of blood, images of flesh and gore, no matter how many times you washed out your mouth, you could still taste it. 

Raw flesh going down your throat. 

Jungkook finally stopped at your back, unable to find any words, he could only pull you to face him, and he hated it, how it always seemed your face was filled with tears more than smiles, “I can’t get it out!” 

You felt like a helpless child all over again, unable to help yourself let alone anyone else, but you felt so lost, you didn’t know what to do, you had all of these new feelings, all of these new sins you had to carry. 

You let out another sob as Jungkook pulled you in, and you could do nothing but collapse against him as you cried, “I can’t get the taste out! No matter- wh-what I eat, what I drink, I still taste it!” 

Jungkook only soothing hushed you, pressing his lips on top of your head, “I know.” He ushered softly, “I’m sorry.”

His arms wrapped around you tighter as you cried, resting your head into his shoulder, after a few minutes passed you had finally managed to calm your breath into steady.

“I can’t go back, I can’t undo everything I’ve done, I don’t know what to do anymore,” You tried to not weep but the tears slowly began to trickle back down your cheeks as you lamented, “My whole life i’ve been told I’m supposed to save lives,”

You pressed your hands against his jacket, looking up at him, “So why is it, all I ever seem to do is take them?” 

Jungkook tenderly cupped your cheeks in his hands, thumbing the tears away as he pressed his forehead against yours, “I can’t speak for all of your past doings, but I can speak for what happened at the estate, your survival was dependent on your ability to defend yourself. You were forced to do what anybody would do.”

You shook your head in remorse, closing your eyes as you stifled a sob, Jungkook tenderly stroking your cheeks as he continued, “Humans are instinctive creatures, though you are part dryad, it seems violence runs in your veins.” 

You sniffled, “That’s terrifying! You should be terrified. Everyone looks at me differently now, certainly you do as well, I killed the woman who was supposed to be your wife!” 

Jungkook sighed, tenderly tracing your jawline with those long fingers of his, “The only thing that truly terrified me? Was when you walked through those gates covered in blood, and I realized I had unknowingly sent you to your death, unable to be there for you, unable to protect you, failing as a husband. That terrifies me.” 

Your lips trembled as Jungkook’s fingers traced down your neck to your collarbone, “But you? I told you to show me all of you, and that I would take you as you are, my words still stand.” His fingers trailed down the center of your chest, stopping at the covered wound, the mark where Di Jin had attempted to make his finishing blow. 

“How could I be afraid of someone I love?” It was nothing louder than a whisper. 

It caused your gut to wrench as you violently shook your head, “Don’t say that, please don’t say that Jungkook.” You immediately escaped his arms, every step you took back Jungkook closed the gap with another forward. 

“I don’t expect it to be requited, you don’t have to say it back Y/n but I’ve went through all stages of grief about it, I can’t change it,” Jungkook wasn’t backing down though, “I am in love with you and everything I thought I knew about love, everything I thought I knew about women, feelings, all of it, you came into my life and taught me that I was a fool to ever assume as much. I love you.” 

“Stop saying it! Please, you don’t mean that, please don’t say it so easily…”

Your back was pressed against the wall as you shook your head, Jungkook standing tall in front you, delicately leaning down, both his forearms on either side of you as he whispered, “I love you Y/n, and you will not dictate to me whether that is the truth or not. My love for you has been anything but easy, don’t discredit how I feel because I’m the first to admit it.”

“You can’t love me,” You whispered, eyes blurring once more as flashes of Seohyun’s mangled body appeared in your vision. 

“Loving you is like loving the sun,” Jungkook replied softly, “Effortless, and if I’m meant to burn in its light, then I'd die happily in doing so. My precious sun, the light of my life. Let me love you, let me take care of you, let me protect you, let me never leave your side again.”

“Jungkook…”

“I failed you, let you leave my side, sent you to the estate. It’s ultimately my own fault, and I’ll spend the rest of my life redeeming myself for it. But please, don’t punish me anymore,” Jungkook’s eyes sombered, a sort of tender plea in them, “I can’t be apart from you anymore, I’ve tried to give you space, time to think, to heal, but just as you need me, I need you. I need you just like the moon needs the sun.” 

You had no words, unable to speak, overwhelmed by so many different feelings, but one thing you knew for certain was that when you looked at Jungkook, you felt at home. You said nothing, only gently laying your forehead in the crook of his neck, arms wrapping around him. 

Trying to drown out the voices, the memories in his warmth, you were so terribly homesick, and Jungkook was surely your only remedy to this. 

His arms wrapped around you in return, holding you tightly as he pressed a kiss against your head, “It’s selfish, but please, don’t deny me, love me, lay with me, we’re married, but I want you to be my wife.”

“Take me back to our bedroom.” You whispered to him, curling into his warmth as you shuddered, trying so hard to not let the vivid grotesque images back into your mind. 

There was nothing quite like the warmth a bath could offer, steaming wafting from heat and dipping your body in made you realize just how chilled you had become throughout the day. Perhaps the best part was sitting perched in your husband’s lap, head laying on his shoulder as he tended to you.

The warmth of the washcloth running along your body, his hands that had easily taken tens if not hundreds of lives tenderly running through your hair as he washed you, he of course didn’t miss the opportunity to feather your neck in kisses. 

“Is this okay?” He whispered in your ear, you nodded wanting nothing more than for him to keep making you forget, you didn’t want to remember anymore. 

Jungkook was still tenderly cleaning you up, lips occasionally going back to your neck with a few gentle kisses and eventually after bathing you both settled in the water, just enjoying one another’s embrace. 

His fingers tracing circles on your back before running down your waist, squeezing your ass for a moment before his hand would return back up your waist, touching you however he wanted, simply because he could. 

It was a comforting gesture, but it was also evident how aroused you both were, every time his hand would dip under the water, it made your body just a little more excited, feeling his hand gripping your flesh tightly, making you shift a little and the first tiniest audible moan escaping your lips. 

You could feel it briefly, his hardened cock resting against his chiseled abdomen, Jungkook’s lips pressed against your neck once more, this time suckling the skin as his other hand trailing down your waist before gripping the other side of your ass. 

A soft moan escaped your lips, making your hips shift, nudging his cock once more making his lips suckle your skin a little harder, he released the skin after a moment, as if not wanting to mark it, “Let me make you feel good, my little sun.”

His fingers digging into your skin, his tongue dragging on your neck, “Please.” You ushered out a small moan. 

Jungkook’s hand’s suddenly grabbed your waist, “Hold on,” He said and you didn’t understand for a moment until he suddenly picked you up, bringing you out of the water, grabbing one of the towels from off the stool he laid it out on the bed to not get it wet before dropping you down. 

The fire crackled on, the only light source in the room, leaving it dark and warm, but the silhouette of Jungkook’s body was still very evident, his hard cock even more so as he stood tall in front of your figure. 

You felt so small in comparison in this moment, but it didn’t last long as Jungkook leaned down, “You’re so perfect.” He whispered, lips pressing into yours as if he could sense your anxiousness, your body was so pliable though, having his hovering over you protectively. You moaned into the kiss, body relaxing as one of his hands found your thighs, pushing them apart tenderly as you opened them for him.

Your cunt was throbbing and wet, eager to be touched by him as Jungkook broke the kiss, letting his tongue drag down your throat and to your collarbone before he feathered more kisses, pausing at your breasts. 

Jungkook couldn’t resist wrapping his lips around your left tit, this forced a moan from you, hips shifting in need as a hand steady them, as if telling you to be patient, he traded for your right tit next, moaning softly against your skin as if relishing in it. 

“Jungkook…!” You whined softly, watching the explicit sight, your thighs spreading a little more in need. 

Jungkook’s eyes almost glowed in the dark, that icy blue piercing gaze, hazy and filled with lust as he released your tit from his lips, a small lazy smirk tugging on his lips, “Yes, my love?” 

It felt like knots were forming in your stomach, “Love me, you keep saying it, show me how it feels.” 

Jungkook gave you a small smile, “You don’t need to ask me twice.” His lips pressed down your stomach and your body was reacting in all the ways he could hope as he made his way down to your hips, tenderly, slowly, licking up every reaction he got before he settled himself between your thighs. 

Still he seemed to enjoy getting you worked up, lips pressing against your inner thigh making you squirm, your cunt dripping wet as you whined, “Jungkook!” 

His tongue dragged just a little closer to where you wanted it, “What do we say when we want something?” 

“Please…!” 

Jungkook moaned softly as his tongue pressed against your cunt making you let out a moan of relief, his hot wet tongue mixing with your arousal as he pressed against your little opening before dragging it up your slit, right where you wanted it. 

You moaned softly as his tongue pressed against your clit, you shifted onto your forearm, your other hand reaching down to bury in his wet dark locks of hair, his tongue swirling around the tender bud as pleasure shot through your body making your thighs open further for him.

His eyes closed as he moaned against your clit, wrapping his lips around it as if suckling something sweet, it made a sharp whine escape you as you yanked his hair hips lifting for him. 

“Mm Jungkook.” You ushered out softly as his lips parted, tongue lathing against the little bud that had you squirming in pleasure. 

“Relax my love,” Jungkook moaned into your cunt, “Let me make you cum as many times as you please.” 

His fingers snuck down to your cunt as his lips wrapped back around your clit making you whine, his tongue having found a particularly sweet spot that had you grabbing his hair.

His fingers toyed with your little hole at first, letting them get nice and sticky from your arousal before he pushed a digit in, your body immediately reacted, walls clenching around him as a strangled whine left you. 

His lips parted as his tongue lathed your clit, continuously flicking the sweet spot of your bud as you whimpered, your cunt throbbing in pleasure as his finger began to pump inside you, “Relax princess, I got you,” Jungkook’s lidded eyes met yours, and briefly you could see his finger, knuckle deep in your cunt. 

As if noticing this as well a small smirk curled on his lip as he pulled it out, before gathering both his middle and ring finger, pushing it back inside you, it made you wince a little in discomfort, “Shh, give your body to me, I’ll take care of it my love,” Jungkook moaned softly, his cock was rock hard at watching you moan and wither beneath him in pleasure.

Your walls clenching tightly around his fingers as he thrusted them inside you, his lips tenderly pressing into your thigh to soothe you as your body slowly relaxed just as he said.

Your hips slowly lifted in sync with his as you whined, Jungkook buried himself back in your cunt once more, tongue lapping at your little clit, getting the exact reaction he had hoped. 

A loud cry escape you, thighs suddenly wrapping around his head just the way he wanted them too, wanting to be suffocated by your cunt and nothing else, his fingers immediately began pumping rougher inside you as you whined unable to keep yourself supported anymore as you collapsed back against the bed. 

“Koo! Mmm! Please Koo!” Your words were mumbled and whiny as his tongue viciously swirled and suckled your throbbing bud, his fingers suddenly lifting inside you as if in search for something. 

Pleasure was becoming more consistent, more intense as Jungkook's moan vibrated against your clit and his fingers pushing all the way inside you as they lifted once more, the pleasure that suddenly snapped through your body was indescribable, a loud whimper escaping you. 

His name came in shambled shorter variations as you whined and moaned, your walls rapidly squeezing around his fingers as he kept thrusting into the same spot again and again.

Jungkook kept lapping at your clit, finding that sweet spot once more as you withered beneath him, back arching as your mind blurred with pleasure, “Oh..! Oh god, please! Yes! Mmm!” 

Your voice echoed throughout the bedroom loudly as fits of moans  escaped your mouth, lips parted at just how good you felt, “Cum for me, cum all over my fingers sweetheart,” Jungkook moaned before his lips parted against your clit, lazily rubbing into that little spot as his fingers ruthlessly rubbed into that spot inside you. 

And you did. 

Your walls rapidly wrapped around his fingers as he kept shoving them inside you, his tongue attached to your bud, milking your orgasm as unholy noises escaped your lips, mixtures of thanks, of his name, cries to the empty sky. 

It just kept going, the pleasure only heightened as you squealed out, hands digging into his hair as his tongue swirled over your clit, fingers refusing to stop as they hit that same spot inside you over and over again. 

It had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your thighs trembling as you completely gave your body up to him, relaxing into the building sensation inside your cunt as your walls kept squeezing around his fingers, his tongue not stopping on your clit as he suckled it once more. 

His tongue finding just the right spot as it all spiked once more, your moans were shaky and cried out as blind pleasure washed over you once more, cumming all over his fingers but not only that liquid suddenly spewing lewdly from your little hole. 

“Fuuck,” Jungkook moaned, lifting your hips suddenly as his fingers abused your little entrance, hitting that spot over and over again as your body withered against him, “Such a good girl.” 

His fingers finally pulled out of your cunt, your thighs trembling as he set you down, moaning as he kissed your thighs, hands dragging against your waist, “Fuck, I want you so bad sweetheart, wanna fill you up, wanna feel you cum all over my cock.” 

You were heaving deep breathes, trying to comprehend the pleasure you just experienced, you were hazy still as your hand tenderly combed through his hair, “Then do so…” You gazed at him, hazey and the darkness made it difficult to make out his expression, “You said you wanted me to be your wife, then make me your wife.” 

Jungkook’s gaze shot up to you as you weakly smiled, “I want you to be my husband, but we’ve never consummated it. I want to.” 

Jungkook moaned softly, his cock throbbing as he crawled up to you, arms hovering on either side of you as he stared down at you, “You mean it?” 

“Of course I do,” You whispered, hands creeping up his neck and back to his hair once more, pulling him down for a kiss that he would never deny you. 

Jungkook moaned softly into the kiss before he broke it, pressing a kiss against your neck, “It’ll hurt,” He whispered, “But I’ll make sure it doesn’t last long.” 

Jungkook shifted you further up the bed as he sat on his knees, between your thighs as you parted them for him, feeling nervous, but you felt so safe with him, you wanted him, craved him. Jungkook’s fingers brushed over your cunt, puffy and wet as you shuddered. 

His hand was soaked in your arousal as before he wrapped it around his cock, just as big and fat as you remembered. His eyes didn’t leave yours as he pumped his cock in his hand, it made you feel shy as you shifted beneath him. 

“Are you sure?” He murmured, you nodded. 

Grabbing your thighs he pulled you closer to him before he grabbed his cock once more, rubbing the fat weeping head of his cock against your cunt as you let out a shaky exhale, you knew he was big but…he was really big compared to you.

Just the size of his head was nearly as big as your cunt itself, “Jungkook I don’t…-”

“It’ll fit.” He reassured, a little amused, pulling the head of his cock to your little entrance before attempting to push it in. 

You winced in pain as you shifted, you weren’t sure how you expected this to go, it really wasn’t something you had ever fantasized about. But the first attempt was lackluster due to the fact that he indeed was not getting it in.

Jungkook’s nose wrinkled, “Ugh fuck. Hold on,” He whispered, shifting a little more, setting your thighs a top of his a little more, lining his cock back up to your entrance as he pushed once more. 

He pushed the fat head of his cock against your entrance once more, this time however, you let out a yelp, the sensation almost burning as you shifted in discomfort against him, “Ah…! Fuck that hurts.” You let out a weak whine, biting down on your lip hard. 

And it did, all you could focus on was how much it ached and burned having your walls pushed open by something so large and foreign.

Jungkook leaned down, arms on either side of you as he pressed feathery kisses into your neck, “I’m sorry, my love,” His whisper was strained, “Just let yourself relax, it won’t last long.” He let out a slight shaky moan as he pushed himself just a little deeper inside you.

You tried to let yourself relax as much as possible, but your brows were still pinching together and it was difficult for it to not hurt when he was just really that big. 

Jungkook suddenly pulled out of you making you sigh in relief, Jungkook pressed another comforting kiss against your neck as he pushed the head of his cock back inside, only this time, it wasn’t nearly as painful, a little discomfort of having something foreign inside your body. 

But it wasn’t nearly as bad, Jungkook’s muscles were completely tensed and his breath was shaky as he buried his face into your neck with a moan, “Fuck sweetheart, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me.” 

Jungkook his deep raspy words in your ear made your walls squeeze around him, making him push a little deeper inside you as you let out a soft whine, shifting your hips as if trying to take more of him. 

Jungkook could feel this, immediately pushing his cock deeper inside you, “Oh my god,” He whispered, “Fucking perfect, perfect cunt, perfect body, perfect for me. Look at that little cunt, taking me so well.” 

You whined at his hips thrusting a little, as if testing the water’s, “Koo…mmm!” Your eyes snapped shut at feeling his cock splitting your walls open, hitting all the right places.

Jungkook moaned as his hips slowly began to thrust, his cock still not fully inside you but with each thrust it got a little closer, “Feels so warm, so little, fuck, keep wrapping around me like that love.” 

His shaft rubbed right into that sweet spot that had you moaning, legs wrapping around his waist, your cunt felt so full and yet wanted so much more, Jungkook’s hips were becoming a little faster, “Such a perfect cunt, mine. All mine.” There was a hint of possessiveness in his words. 

Your hands dug in his hair, “All yours.” You whimpered out quietly as your body started jolting, his hips becoming rougher at the words, “Your cunt, yours.” 

Jungkook let out a rough moan, deep and raw as if those words made him all hot and bothered, “Fuck yeah it is,” He suddenly growled in your ear, “You’re my fuckin’ wife, my cunt to play with, my cunt to make cum again and again. Mine.” 

You suddenly whimpered at feeling his cock going deeper inside you, your eyes shutting as you moaned for him, knowing he wanted to hear them, knowing how much he liked to see you in pleasure, “Mmm! Like that.” 

“Oh? Like this?” He smirked against your skin as he thrusted particularly harsh, his cock going deep inside you once more, your walls rapidly clenching around him as you moaned, nails dragging against his back. 

“What about this?” He murmured in your ear, pushing his hips all the way until they met yours, his cock completely buried in your warm little cunt as you shakily moaned, eyes squeezing shut at how deep he was inside, how thick and fat his cock was, completely splitting open your walls. 

“Mmm fuck, yeah.” You ushered softly, creaming all over his cock, arousal coating it as your walls squeezed around him, you had finally found heaven, it was Jungkook buried inside your cunt. 

Jungkook moaned as well, feeling how tight your walls squeezed around him in pleasure, as if suddenly starved Jungkook grabbed your thigh, bringing it over his shoulder as his hips shifted, rapidly thrusting into you as you yelped in surprise. 

But pleasure was immediately blooming side you, his shaft rubbing all the right spots, balls slapping against your skin as you whimpered for him, “Oh! Right there, yeah! Yes, god…!” 

Jungkook moaned, “Fuck yeah, squeeze around me baby, know you wanna cum on it, cum all over this fat cock, gonna fill you up until your dripping.” 

Your hips lifted with his, moaning at how good it felt, his cock roughly dragging in and out of you, pushing your walls open with each thrust, “Mmm wanna cum all over it.” 

Jungkook moaned, thrusting particularly hard this time making you whine before he suddenly shifted, letting go of your thigh as he suddenly sat up right, but dragging you with him, his cock pulling out of you as you whined. 

Thighs trembled and uncertain of this new position as Jungkook sat you in his lap, immediately grabbing his cock as he pushed it back inside you, except you were a little awkward, “Mm Koo I don’t-”

“Like this love.” Jungkook moaned, grabbing your hips as he lifted them, this new position made you feel him in an entirely new way, your lips parting as an involuntary moan escaped you, trying to mimick the way his hips guided you. 

Sliding down his cock as you moaned, feeling how deep he was inside you, your walls rapidly clenched, Jungkook’s hands tightened around your ass, “Fuck yeah sweetheart, can feel you wrapping around it, cum.” His head suddenly dove down, lips parting on your right tit as he suckled it harshly making you cry out, walls clenching around him as you lowered your hips all the way down. 

Your arousal dripping on his balls as he lifted you, fucking you on his cock as you whined pathetically, not of much use when he fucked you like this, his lips suckled your tit harshly once more, “Cum,” He growled, his hand suddenly smacking your right ass cheek making you yelp. 

Your body however, loved that feeling of pain, your cunt squeezing around his cock as he roughly bounced you on it, “Like that? Like getting spanked sweetheart?” Jungkook grinned deviously, suddenly smacking your ass even harder, your body reacting to it as your walls clenched harder around him. 

“Mmm! M’ gonna cum..Koo!” You whimpered out, all the sensations overwhelming you as Jungkook continued to bounce you on his cock, pushing you deeper on him as he smacked your ass once more, this time hitting just under the cheek, the pain mixed with the pleasure as you moaned loud, walls squeezing rapidly around his cock. 

Your lips parted as you came all over his fat shaft, being bounced roughly as Jungkook moaned, “Fuck yeah, thats it princess,” Jungkook moaned, wrapping his around around your waist as he laid back on the bed, bring you with him a top as his hips lifted, rapidly thrusting up inside you, this orgasm was much deeper, more powerful as he continued to bottom out inside you making sure he was completely buried inside you.

“Fuck my love, that’s it.” Jungkook ushered a moan, you felt it before you heard it, something indescribably warm shooting deep inside your cunt, “Mm that’s it, take it like the good girl you are.” 

You let out the tiniest whine, burying your head in his shoulder as he let out a deep sigh of contentment, relishing in his orgasm, how long had he imagined holding you like this?

His lips tugged into a lopsided smile as his eyes opened, looking at you as if you were the only thing in the world, as if in deep admiration, love.

You supposed that look in his eyes, could only be described adequate as love, “My goddess,” He mused, fingers trailing your face, his hand trailed down your side before grabbing your hand, the skin discolored in large patches. 

Jungkook pressed his lips against the palm before tenderly planting a kiss on each finger, the gesture was so full of love it made your eyes fill with tears that did not shed, his lips pressed against your wrist, “The love of my life, I know I cannot change the past,”

Jungkook laid you both on your side as he wrapped his arm around you, “But we will get through this together.”

You weren’t sure what it was, the earnest look in his eyes, the pure devotion in his voice, but you believed him, you wholeheartedly believed him, “We will.” You whispered back, leaning in to press your lips against his.

It was filled with nothing but sweetness, tenderly pressing over yours as he let out a soft moan, his hand finding its home around your neck, not squeezing but simply holding it, “My wife.” He moaned against the kiss, “My beautiful wife. I don’t think there will ever be a day I don’t love you. Sleep, and if you wake, I’ll be here to hold you.” 

Sleep did not come easily, Jungkook had managed to get you both under the warm covers, scaring off whatever little coldness that had tickled your skin, the last hour before he fell asleep had been silent, his fingers tracing circles against your back, enjoying one another's warmth. 

You had eventually fell asleep but dreams you could not remember had plagued you back awake, your eyes were tired but you could see blue light streaming in from the window, it wouldn’t be long before your day would begin. 

Still, you laid dozing off enjoying your Jungkook who hadn’t let go of you the whole time, skin to skin contact soothing, you had rolled onto your stomach, letting the weight of his body near on top of you soothe your eyes back shut. 

Shifting a little to get comfortable this must have accidentally awoke him as you felt a gentle kiss press on your shoulder a sleepy groan escape his lips, “How long have you been awake?” He mumbled, his voice quiet, deeper and raspier than normal. 

“...Not too long, I’ve woken up multiple times though.” You whispered, keeping your eyes shut as you felt his hand slowly stroke your waist. 

You would never say it out loud, but you could definitely get use to being petted like this.

“You should’ve woke me up,” Jungkook pressed another kiss against your skin, this time your neck, “Let us lay together in silence.” 

“We could be laying in silence right now.” You offered a tiny tired smile though you weren’t sure he could see it. 

“We could.” Jungkook murmured, his lips pressing onto your neck once more, this time parting as his tongue tenderly lapped over your skin, the act itself made your breath hitch, body stirring as you tilted your head, letting him have more access to your skin. 

You kept your eyes closed, allowing him to give you open mouthed kisses over your neck, not too long in each spot to be mindful of marking, his tongue delicately tracing over each patch just enough to tease. 

It seemed he finally got what he wanted out of you, a tiny moan as he shifted you both, now spooning you, your bare ass promptly snug against his hard cock, his lips suckling the skin of your neck as his hand snaked over your waist, grabbing a handful of your tit as he pinched your nipple. 

You whined as you rubbed back against him a little, this made his hand immediately grab your hip, squeezing it to stay still before it hooked over your thigh to lift it, your cunt glossy and wet, dried cum staying your thighs no doubt. 

Your face felt hot and flush and suddenly the covers that had kept you warm were like an inferno, Jungkook shifted, grabbing his cock as he let his fat weeping head rub along your puffy slit. 

A small breath escaped you as he rubbed it over your sensitive clit before back to your little entrance, and then pushing it in, your brows pinched together in discomfort, his size still big for your body to adjust too. 

“Shhh,” He whispered against your neck, moaning softly as his hips started thrusting, his cock pushing further inside you as you whined, “Fuck, can’t believe this pussy is all mine,” Jungkook ushered quietly, “Mine to fuck, mine to love, mine to cum inside. Mine.” 

You moaned against the pillow, your walls squeezing tight around his cock as he thrusted further inside you before pushing all the way in, his shaft rubbing just the right way inside you, “Mmm, Jungkook.” You moaned quietly. 

You could feel his wicked smirk on your skin, hips suddenly thrusting rough up into you, his cock throbbing as his balls smacked against your skin, “Moan my name, only mine. Want everyone to hear, to know how good I fuck you.” 

You bit down on your lip at his hips thrusting at a steady but rough pace, each time pulling almost out of you only to shove all the way back in, the fat head of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you each time. 

“That's right sweetheart, cream all over it, wanna feel this pretty little cunt cum all over my cock,” Jungkook moaned in your ear, that deep rasp in his voice had your clit throbbing and your walls wrapping around him as you whined. 

Overwhelmed by how big he was, how good it felt you nearly cried out at the feeling of his cock pulling out of you, your muscles tensed as your eyes snapped open at being robbed of your pleasure. 

Jungkook had a sleepy smirk on his face as he sat upright against the headboard, pulling the covers off to reveal his fat, proud cock, glossy with your arousal as he offered you a hand, “Come sit on your throne my goddess.” 

Your body felt hot in all kinds of ways as you took his hand before slowly crawled to him, Jungkook however manhandled you to sit on his lap, your back pressing into his chest as he pried your thighs apart, the position was all too familiar as you whined. 

“Jungkook…!” 

“Remember what I said last time?” Jungkook pressed a long kiss against your neck, shifting you as he grabbed his cock, gleaming coated in your arousal as he pushed the head back inside you, an audible moan from you echoing in the room as you watched in arousal and horror at how much he was splitting your cunt. 

Your body could do nothing but sink down on it, whines and whimpers escaping you once again at just how thick his cock was, finally meeting the base as your body rested against his, Jungkook however had different plans, grabbing your thighs to lift them a little as he suddenly starting thrusting. 

His fast pace took you off guard as you gurgled a moan, eyes unable to look at anything except his cock pulling in and out of your cunt, covered in slick arousal as you felt his shaft squeezing past your soft warm walls each time, hitting up into your sweet spot that had you moaning. 

“You like watching?” Jungkook grinned, a breathy moan escaping him as his chin rested on your shoulder, eyes hazy as he watched his cock push all the way inside you, “Like being made to take this big fat cock while being made to watch.”

Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut at how hard your walls suddenly clenched around him, taking everything in him to not cum this very moment, “You’re so fucking little,” He groaned, fingers digging into your thighs, “Love feeling that pretty little cunt wrap around me, heh yeah like that fuuck.” 

His fingers found your clit rubbing them as you yelped out, walls rapidly clenching around him in a feeling that he was quickly starting to familiarize himself with, it made his cock throb in pleasure as he lifted once more, shifting you both a little so you laid back more against his chest, thrusting harder and faster this time as he pressed your clit between his fingers. 

“Mmph! Koo-! Fuck, ah! Yes! Oh god, like that, please! Please!” Moans escaped you incohesively, surrendering your body to him as he fucked you roughly, hips snapping up into yours, his cock stretching out your walls each time. 

Jungkook’s fingers toyed with your throbbing clit, “Thats it, moan, let them know who’s taking care of this pretty pussy, who’s filling you up with cock right now,” His hips drilling into you as he watched his cock snap in and out of your cunt each time, “Look, watch.” He growled in your ear. 

Your eyes opened as you moaned, your cunt puffy and wet, stretching for him with more ease now than before, Jungkook’s hips slowed down, “You like watching yourself get fucked?” 

Your throat felt dry and your body hot as his hips sensually moved, slower, deeper, making sure you felt every thrust of his hips as his cock buried deep in your cunt, “Answer.” 

“Yes,” You stammered, whining a little at his cock burying inside you once more but this time not pulling out immediately after, “Like watching.” You whined quietly. 

Jungkook had a wicked grin on his lips, “You like it? Being fucked by the wicked prince?” His thrusts were short, keeping his cock as deep inside you as he could, your walls clenched at the short snapped sensation, “Like it when I cum deep inside this pretty virgin cunt of yours?”

Pleasure was building rapidly in your body, your walls squeezing tightly around him each time, watching his long thick fingers rub into your clit, finding that sweet little spot that had you gasping a whine.

“Yes, yeah, fuck, mmm! Fuck Koo, gonna…!” Your body was contorting as his cock pushed all the way inside you once more.

“I remember that little mouth of yours our wedding night, remember wanting nothing more then to bend you over and stuff you full of cock,” Jungkook moaned, hips becoming sloppy, thrusts uneven, some slow, some rough, “Fuck you so hard all you’d be able to do was thank me. But look at you now.” 

Jungkook smiled against your shoulder, “My pretty wife letting me fuck her tiny little cunt, letting me ruin the little virgin dryad princess. Fuck yeah, that’s it, cum all over it my love. Cum all over this cock.”

You were moaning so loud, surely people out in the halls could hear, and it only turned Jungkook on further, his cock buried inside you with the need to make sure you kept moaning, needing others to hear, to know that you were his. 

His thrusts were short, keeping buried deep in your cunt as his fingers kept rubbing into the sweet spot of your clit, your walls rapidly clenching around his base as he buried into you once more before you came. 

Jungkook let out a loud moan as your walls squeezed him so tight he was unable to thrust, pleasure was contorting in every part of your body as you came all over his cock just as he wanted, your clit throbbing in pleasure as Jungkook tenderly rubbed into it, milking every last bit of pleasure he could.

“God I love the way your cunt wraps around me,” He murmured, eyes tightly shut at the sensation, what he had dreamed of for so long now, the feeling of your cunt squeezing tight around him, begging to be filled with his cum. 

The feeling was still foreign, having something warm and slightly sting as it roped inside you, his hands squeezing your thighs tight as he came, moaning softly in your shoulder, you both were heaving breathes.

Jungkook pressed a flutter of light kisses against your neck, fingers tracing your thighs, is fingerprints still prominent in them, “So that’s what you meant…” 

“Hm?” Jungkook hummed out, nose nudging your neck in a loving manner, his fingers tracing over the skin that was slowly discoloring. 

“You…once told me bruising could be attractive, is this what you meant?” You whispered, voice raspy a little humored. 

You could feel the tiny smile on your neck, “Maybe. Maybe not, do you find it attractive?” 

“Do you?” 

Jungkook’s fingers continued to trace over the marks, “When they’re mine,” He pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear, “They’re the most attractive.”

You had gotten distracted though, his cock slipping out of you and cum oozing from your entrance you squirmed in discomfort, your face felt warm at the lewd sight.

“Mmm, that’s even more attractive though,” Jungkook moaned softly, his index finger scooping it back up before pushing it back in making you squirm.

“Jungkook…!” You whined out, immediately closing your legs.

He chuckled as he pressed a kiss against your head, “Let me grab a washcloth and get you cleaned up.” 

Jungkook shuffled you out of his lap before standing up with a groan, grabbing his undershort that had never gotten worn last night as he put them on, grabbing a washcloth from the stool, walking back over to bed where you had shuffled, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed as you sat naked on his bed.

It didn’t matter if you both had just finished laying together and his cum dripped between your thighs. 

Jungkook looked down at you for a long moment before a smile curled on his lips, “Are you going to let me see?”

“I…can clean myself.” You replied flustered, unable to look at those pretty blue eyes of his. 

“What kind of partner would I be if I made you do that?” Jungkook snorted, grabbing your legs as he pulled you closer, it made you squeak now at the edge of the bed.

You thighs parting only a little for him, but he had quickly made it more as he pulled them further apart, his tongue grazing his lips at the sight before the warm wet cloth dragged over your thighs, his hands were attentive and gentle as he cleaned you up. 

Jungkook had gotten himself halfway dressed and had just gotten your slip on just in time for the timely knock on the door, Taehyun’s voice on the otherside.

Jungkook had allowed him to come in, bowing to you both before going to Jungkook’s wardrobe, “Would you like for me to send for a maid to help the Princess?” Taehyun asked, you could tell he had to have known something was up but obviously not about to ask. 

“No,” Jungkook replied, leaving your side as he walked over to Taehyun, “I’ll help her get ready for the day.” 

Taehyun said nothing more aside from going over the duties Jungkook would need to attend today as he got him dressed, you had fidgeted in bed, eyes glancing at the window as light began to filter in, brighter than usual. 

You would be expected to carry out your duties today as well, the rebuilding of the market had slowed down since winter had approached and Jeong Dae had warned you the building would be very slow in the winter, but to be patient. 

You also had to meet with a few noble houses today to discuss resources once more, just the idea exhausted you. It had been nearly a week since the incident and yet it felt as though a day hadn’t past. 

You hadn’t even noticed when the door had been shut. 

“You’re in your head again.” Jungkook frowned, staring down at you, fully dressed in black today.

“So much has happened since we married,” You frowned as you looked at the window once more, “It’s difficult to not these days.” 

You parted your lips but no words came, uncertain of how to express your feelings, Jungkook patiently waited as he turned away from you walking to your wardrobe, most of your clothes had been taken out, but evidently he had somehow managed to keep most of your winter wardrobe here. 

“I knew it would be difficult, when we married and I would move here, leaving my land behind. I had two years of mental preparation for what may happen,” You sighed softly as you glanced at your hands, flipping them over to look at your discolored palms, “I had mainly prepared myself to be killed here. And yet…somehow, it never occured to me that living might possibly be worse. That living and yet, unable to recognize myself, would be a thousand times worse than death.”

You felt alienated from yourself, perhaps deep down you always knew you were capable of murder, the rage so deep in your bones that certainly it would strike a god down, but to have done it? 

To go against everything your nation stood for? The oath you had so proudly taken as a little girl, your mothers eyes beaming down at you with pride. 

Jungkook set the material out on the bed he had gathered before kneeling down in front of you, gently taking your hands in his, “Or perhaps this is just another side of you, something different, something new, change is uncomfortable. Growth is painful. I remember my first time…” 

Your eyes slowly moved, meeting his as he frowned, “I was nothing more than a child, holding a sword too big, he was a grown man. It was one of our drill sergeants in training, he had despised the Jeon name and had taken to treating me as nothing more then dirt beneath his boots.”

Jungkook sighed, “He had been ruthlessly sparring with me, going as far as kicking me into the ground well past my attempt of surrender. And then he stopped, and just stared at him before laughing, saying I was pathetic, that I’d never live a day in battle. And like that he just turned his back and walked away.” 

Jungkook’s eyes dropped, “I don’t even know what possessed me, but he kept laughing as he called out to his little friend that he was done with the Jeon Scum, suddenly I had unsheathed the dagger in my hand and ran at him.” 

“And?” You whispered out.

Jungkook shrugged, “I don’t remember much of it anymore, I’ve been told I stabbed him over fourteen times though, I was covered in blood by the end of it and I only remember crying in the bathtub while washing myself.” 

Your heart painfully squeezed for him, he couldn’t have been older than ten? Nobody would ever be fit to kill, let alone a child, “Were there consequences?” 

Jungkook shook his head, “Areum had given me a light slap on the wrist, extra watch duty, less rations, things of that nature. But being the prince gave me certain privilege,” He a bitter smile grew on his face, “I think that was the first time my father ever told me he was proud of me. Said I had great promise on the battlefield and that I was meant to rule.” 

“You say it with such disdain.” You frowned. 

Jungkook sighed as he stood up, grabbing the dress he had picked out for you, a purple dress with long thick velvet sleeves, the material was sheer and thin but he had grabbed a thick under slip to pair with it. 

Jungkook pulled the slip over your head, “Do you want my honest words on it?” 

“Of course I do.” You whispered out, eyes meeting his as he pulled the material down. 

“I’ve never had the desire to rule,” Jungkook said it no more than a whisper, “I don’t want the crown, I don’t want to be king.” He ushered it as if it was a crime, but suddenly he looked a little relieved as if this was the first he had ever voiced it, “I don’t want those responsibilities that come with it…”

Jungkook held your dress in his hands as his brows furrowed, “...I don’t want to be like my father.”

He spoke it as if that was the underlying reason, you stood up in front of him before wrapping your arms around his waist to hug him, “You’re nothing like him.” You whispered out, his hands wrapping around you as he squeezed you tight, nose burying in your hair. 

Jungkook broke away only a little as his forehead pressed against yours, “But then I think about you, crown on top of your head, the way you visit the outer districts, redistribute what's left that the royals waste, how you sacrificed something so sacred to you…” His hand grabbed your own, pulling it towards his lips as he pressed a kiss against your palm, “And I think about how you were made to be a queen, and if I were to rule by your side…then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.” 

“Truthfully?” You whispered back, looking up at him with a soft smile, “It doesn’t matter to me, as long as I’m with you.”

Jungkook only smiled, fingers tracing your neck as he gave a flutter of kisses to the palm of your hand before he let go of you, grabbing the gown as he helped you change, tentatively lacing the back of your dress before turning you around. 

A sort of satisfied look on his face as if he had made the right choice, “Leave your hair down today, it looks nice like this.” 

“Jungkook…” You gave him a look, you felt incomplete if you didn’t have your hair braided or styled at all. 

“Indulge me today.” Jungkook replied with a sort of saccharine dripping off his tongue you had never heard before, pulling the velvet gloves over your hands.

You hated how much he had so easily convinced you as you sighed, shaking your head, “Very well, anything else.” 

He nodded walking to your jewelry box once more, “I didn’t say anything, but it didn’t mean that I didn’t notice.” Jungkook walked back over to you, gently grabbing your left hand lifting it up as he held out the large black ring, your wedding ring, “Wear it with pride.” 

Jungkook slid it on your ring finger making you smile as you glanced down at it, you had worn it a few times in the past, but it felt different letting him put it on you.

Your lips slowly fell though, “...I’m not ready for today.” You whispered out, Jungkook had been completely taken you away from your sickening thoughts for the last twelve hours, and soon you would have to return to reality. 

Jungkook frowned as his fingers traced along your neck, “It’ll be over soon my love.” He ushered quietly before leaning in, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips, your eyes closing as you leaned into his warm touch, fingers curling around your throat as you let out the softest moan. 

Jungkook refused to let this go further though, letting his hand drop as he broke the kiss, “If the day gets hard, you know where to find me.” 

Your day had become tones of gray, monotonous without having even realized it, your mind was elsewhere and nobles had looked at you with mixed reactions, some in fear, some in disgust. After all, they had all seen you, seen what you had done, what you were capable of.

You had been hold up in the library the last hour and a half though, reading up on some of the policies for building that had a headache beginning to turn up in your head.

Flipping the page you had went to drink your tea only to find it ice cold, the fire crackled at the far end of the library, but here in the nook you had found it towards the window was cold. 

Time had passed more than you had realized when you found your husband standing at the front of the table, looking at you expectantly. 

You glanced up from your book, “Are you finished with your duties already?” He usually worked later than this.

Jungkook’s nose wrinkled, “I’ve been done for over an hour, it’s nearing seven Y/n.” 

Your eyes widened as you glanced out the window, realizing it was dark outside before you looked back at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t even realize…”

Jungkook rounded the table, fingers dragging to your book before shutting it, “Enough of burying yourself in work.”

You frowned before you glanced up at him, “Do you have something in mind for us then?”

“Dinner,” Jungkook replied with a tilt of his head, “But first come, we should check on Fenrir and…you’ll enjoy the walk.” 

You took the hand he offered you before hooking onto his arm as you both walked down the hall, it was a quiet night but the glances maids and nobles alike didn’t surpass you, the looks never went away. 

You tried your best to ignore them as you entered to the courtyard, lips parting as you both stepped out.

Large fluffy snowflakes fell from the sky, almost shimmering against firelight as they softly landed on the ground, small piles of powder already forming as you looked around, enchanted at the sight, “It’s snowing…!” Your lips twisted into a smile, “I’ve never seen snowflakes so large…” 

Jungkook’s eyes softened on you as he smiled, “I figured so, it’s our first of many snowfall to come this winter. I thought you might like to see it.” 

Jungkook had led you down to the stables but your eyes were still captivated by the sky, filled with little white puffs that gracefully landed onto the ground, a loud whine however brought you back as you frowned. 

“Oh my sweet boy,” You ushered out softly at the sight of seeing Fenrir limp towards you, large tail wagging behind him as you reached out for his face, tenderly rubbing his snout before planting a kiss atop his head, “I’m sorry I haven’t visited you today.” 

“I saw him this morning, I let him loose while watching the guards spar,” Jungkook said, “He’s healing, by the time we travel for Yule he’ll be good as new.” 

He reached out, giving a firm pat to Fenrir’s side, “We’ll be taking him with us?” You glanced back at him in surprise. 

“Wolves will be roaming for food no doubt by the time we leave, it would be most safe to have him with us to scare off any predators.” Jungkook replied with a nod, “...He’s also bound to you, the grief he’d give royal staff would be something I’d never hear the end of from my father.” 

You gave him a guilty smile, “I wouldn’t want to part with him either.” Fenrir had managed to lick your face causing a quiet giggle to escape you as you leaned away from him, lovingly stroking his neck. 

You had gone inside his pen to straighten out his blankets and to pull out one more thicker one, now that it was snowing you were certain the winter nights would be long and cold, you truly did wish the castle would let him stay inside. 

After spending a few minutes with Fenrir you let out a soft sigh, wishing to not have to depart from him so soon, but your duties had kept you all day, and tomorrow would most likely not be much better. 

Fenrir as if sensing this let out a whine, his ears flattening against his head and his tail fell, “Don’t look like that,” You whispered out, your heart aching for him as you rubbed his ears, “I’ll be back tomorrow, and maybe Jungkook will let you out again.”

“We’ll see,” Jungkook replied neutral, “Inside Fenrir.” 

It was a soft command the Fenrir hesitated to listen too, “Inside.” Jungkook repeated more firm making the wolf whine once more as he went back into his pen, making circles before he laid down, another high pitched whine escaping him. 

“I’ll be back soon.” You whispered before kissing his head once more, closing his gate as you tried to not let his whines make you sad. 

Jungkook had extended his elbow out to you once more as you took it, sighing with a frown as you gave the pen one last look, “It’s only a day, he’ll survive.” 

“I still don’t know why we can’t keep him in the castle…” Your words trailed off at the sight ahead. 

A silvery cloaked figured and…Wheein, bundled up in a green cloak, cheeks rosy pink from the chill as you both paused, it hadn’t been fair that you hadn’t even gotten to see her since she had been trialed. 

You had immediately left Jungkook’s side, “Wheein!” 

Tears filling your eyes as she met you halfway, “Y/n! I’m so, so incredibly sorry!” She whispered out as you both embraced, tears of joy, tears of relief, you weren’t sure, but seeing her in person, being able to tightly hug her. 

It had all suddenly rushed in your mind, that what you had committed, why you had done it, it wasn’t just for your own survival, but it was for the survival of someone else, your arms squeezed around her. 

You broke away from her, grabbing her hands in our own as you both looked at one another, Wheein immediately noticing your tiredness, “Are you okay?” She whispered out. 

“You were nearly executed, I should be asking you that.” You frowned. 

“But you…” Wheein couldn’t bring herself to say the words, the silence loud as you looked away from her. 

Your eyes dropped down to her own gloved hands before finally back at her, “You are alive, and so am I. I will be okay…with time.” 

“You should be at home resting with your family Wheein.” Jungkook had decided to step into the conversation, words softly reprimanding.

“I couldn’t stay away any longer, not after everything that has happened. I owe you both my life, and I wanted to give my thanks for all you have done for me. As well as…” Wheein frowned disapprovingly as she turned to the cloaked figure.

Taehyung. 

“I’ve heard about the ill-spoken words.” Wheein stared him down as she let go of her hands, taking a few steps back as she gestured the man over. 

Taehyung frowned, scratching his cheek as he shuffled in front of you, “What I accused you of Princess…I cannot take back my words, but all I can do is ask for your forgiveness.” 

You gaped as he dropped to one knee, bowing his head, “I spoke without thinking and let my emotions get the better of me.” 

“Taehyung…” You whispered softly, true his words had wounded you but you couldn’t entirely blame him, you had no idea what would do if Jungkook was in such a similar situation, “While your words hurt, being upset like that is understandable. We were all afraid of what would happen, I would never hold it against you.”

“Stand up Taehyung,” Jungkook spoke, his eyes not quite as kind as yours but it seemed he had a similar line of thought, “While your words were border treason…” He trailed off, glancing down at you briefly, “If the love of my life was also on death's doors, there’s no telling the hell I would raise. 

“Love of your life?” Wheein squeaked out, clearly embarrassed at the comparison, but it made a soft smile tug on your lips.

Taehyung bowed at this, “I won’t speak out of line again. I still hope to one day serve as your hand Your Highness.” 

Jungkook snorted, “We’ll see about that. Now you need to escort Wheein back-”

“With all do respect,” Wheein spoke up, a small shy smile on her face, “I would like to return from my leave early, I would like nothing more then to be back in service to the Princess once more.” 

Jungkook frowned disapprovingly but you had spoke before he did, “You are always welcomed to return Wheein, your company would be a light that I need right now.”

Jungkook sighed, “Very well, then return to your quarters for the night,” He began walking, pulling you along with him, “And we’ll see you in the morning.”

Snow fell quietly and you could hear the owls trill out, your heart feeling just a little more light, the road ahead would be only just as treacherous, but with Jungkook by your side, and the friends you had made. 

You could only hope it would be enough. 

[heartfullofleeches]

Fletcher and foxboy malewife are my favorite but what if.... fletcher and naga malewife? I think that'd be interesting

Yan Farmer Flemish Rabbit Hybrid + Naga Reader

[No pronouns used for Reader but they are referred to as wife and intended to be male]

-

"Give it back...... Give it back...."

A stalking plague falls upon the sleepy town. Residents of a once a bustling burrow of rabbits now lock their doors soon as the sun sets over the mountains in fear of the shadow lurking down every barren alleyway. Hunger pains, yet it does not seek the flesh of these creature. It hunts each night - a restless search for the item able to free it from this place. Anger and fear rule its mind, teeth flared at any and all who answer their pleas incorrectly. Confusion replaces the fear dread in the hearts of its victims at the accusations of theft. Regardless, the beast points their claws at whomever crosses their path til what they have lost is rightfully returned.

"Give it back...."

"This what you're lookin' for?"

A chain dangles freely from the rabbit's finger - moonlight bouncing off the blood red gem tailored to the sliver band attached to the end of the chain. There's something odd about this rabbit. Why does this one smell so... familiar?

The barn.

Your sanctuary from the raging storm has been the crux of all your troubles from the very beginning. This rabbit must be is caretaker then. You've seen him in passing, but had no interest in him besides his herd so you never paid much attention to the details. One that goes without saying is how large the man is. Your tail gives you leverage now, but if you don't get your ring back soon then surely-

"It's rude to keep what isn't yours. Give it to me."

"Hey, now- I found this on my property fair and square. I even waited the first couple of nights for you to come back, but you never showed. I was starting to worry I'd never see you again."

Does he enjoy the sound of his own voice? Something catches your eye over the rabbit's shoulder. A glimmer of yellow breaking over the horizon. Panic sets in as a tingle runs through the nerves of your tail. It won't be long now. You needed to act fast. The rabbit looked to be aware of your peril as he takes several steps back into the growing sunlight. Your hand recoils as it creeps towards you.

"Been watching you for a long time now. Long enough to know a small bit about this whole... situation you got going on. I'll give you this ring back - for a price.~"

He's stalling. Sunlight blinds your sight as that accursed ball of light peeks over the buildings. Your body slowly begins to shrink - tail splitting in two as you topple over from the sudden shift in your shape. You crash to the ground - the bulk of your scales receding into your all too human flesh as you land. The rabbit whistles, turning a bashful eye away from your nude figure.

"If humiliating me is what you wanted, I'd say you got what you wished. Can I have my ring back now?"

A curse passed down generation by generation. By night, you are your true self. By day, you are forced to walk this earth on two legs like the rest of animal kin. The disadvantage it puts you at is steep. Smaller, weaker, pitiful. That ring has the power to return you to your proper state even now. You have to get it back.

The rabbit appears offended by your words.

"Humiliate you? Now why on earth would I want to humiliate my wife? You'll get this ring back on our wedding day. I'd love to get you something flashy myself, but it's nicer to keep things in the family. Sooner we get married, sooner you get this back - got it?."

He.... can't be serious. You still return to your true form by sunset. You may be able to overpower him then. As things stood now, you had no chance. Not only was he bigger than you, but in the scarce chance you obtain the upper hand now the town's people are sure to come to his rescue before you can grab what's yours and flee.

"Alright. I will become your wife in exchange for what's mine."

The rabbit grins. "That's the spirit. Name's Fletcher by the way, but most folks call me Fetch. Thought you might like to know since we'll be stuck together from now on."

Fletcher pulls something from his shoulders as he approaches. A fuzzy blanket which he drapes around you as he lifts you off the cold ground. The bastard really has been watching you- Shuddering from the cold, you seek the warmth from his fur as you place your head to his chest - heart beat gone sporadic as you nestle your face deeper into the fluff. If you are to be stuck with him for now, it's better to play along than give away your true intentions so soon.

"Heh, let's get you home before you freeze out here. I'll make you something to eat and we'll get to know each other better before we start planning our special day."

That sounds.... pleasant. The food that is. You can't recall the last time you'd eaten. Hooking your arms around the rabbits neck, he carries you off in the direction of his home as the sleepy town you once terrorized wakes once more.

[rushtoprove]

the deepest melancholy

pairing: aemond targaryen x f!reader rating: mature (18+) word count: 5.9k+ summary: you wished you were strong enough to fight against the life that had been planned for you, but instead you cower at the thought of marrying the dreaded kinslayer, and you were sure he wished to be marrying someone else too. but neither of you could escape this marriage. duty always prevails. chapter summary: the realm was left a mess after the war between the targaryen kin. aegon may have won but the city despises those who almost destroyed the realm. the greens have become the most feared family in the realm, and prince aemond the most frightening figure of them all. that is why the townsfolk weep as your carriage passes them. they pity the sweet girl who is to be sacrificed to the kinslayer and his family. warnings: smut. arranged marriage. uncomfortably smut. forced marriage. angst. it will get better. beauty and the beast au (?) authors note: I have a bad habit of disappearing to remain mysterious. I see my flaws. But truthfully... I never left.

masterlist

It had been six days since your arrival on this foreign shore, but you were still consumed with the sickness that comes with travelling upon the sea. Your stomach seemed to tighten with every bump or shift of the carriage, and every jolt had your dress being pulled tighter into your fists. The echoing voices and cries made it known that your arrival to the red keep had gained an audience, so you slowly pulled back the curtain of the carriage and peered out to see the villagers who you would soon preside over.

“They have experienced hell little one.” Your brother sighed pitifully as he leaned over your shoulder to view the commotion. The folk looked solemnly on the moving carriage, shaking their heads and bowing towards your hidden figure. Some wept pitifully for you leaving the bile in your stomach no choice but to race upwards, and when you made eye contact with an old nun crossing herself in a silent blessing, you hastily tugged the curtains back into place and push yourself into your seat.

“You would leave me here.” You chocked out in anguish. He simply laughed. All he ever did was laugh at you.

Your brother would not support you in your sorrows. He would not weep, nor would he pity you, because it was he who was forcing you into this torment. He was the one marrying you off to the second prince of the realm. He was the one orchestrating your misery. Your brother will simply dump you at the feet of the most hated family of the realm and walk away with more land and title.

“You can thank father for your predicament sister. It was that reckless old man who fought for the traitor Rhaenyra. It was he who lost our good will with the crown. It is I who is simply trying to win back our favour and our riches.”

“They will think me a traitor like they think our father was. He fought for her because he made an oath to support her claim. They will not differentiate who was under our banner on the battlefield. They will take out their anger on me. He will take out his anger on me.” The chills that tingled your spine when you thought of your future husband should be familiar by now, but it still frightens you.

“Father was blinded. Being obligated to risk all our fortune over a pathetic oath forced upon him by the late King Viserys. He worked beside Otto Hightower that whole time. He should know better than anyone the power that man held. He should have known the battle was won before Viserys was even dead.”

“Our father was a loyal subject to Queen Rhaenyra and he fought for her because he knew she would be an admirable ruler. She would have ruled as peacefully as her father. Now we are left with a drunken fool who has started a war with the stepstones once more and his brother who is using his new position as Commander of the City Watch to use cruelty and violence on the folk of Westeros for his on pleasure.” Your father’s death was still raw and the slight against his name lit a dangerous passion in you. It was horrifying listening to your brother talk about your poor dear father so carelessly, but he simply clicked his tongue in mock shame.

“Careful now or you may lose your tongue. Aegon is King, and your dear Lord Commander shall soon control you for the rest of your life. You shall have to worship the ground he walks upon if you wish to be a dutiful wife and not anger the King’s Mother. Although I do not think you are in too much danger of him touching you as I hear you are not his type dear. There are whispers he prefers to fuck witches and hags.” You shook with rage at his condescending tone.

“He burnt countless amounts off innocent farmers and villagers and left nothing but ashes wherever he went. You would give your sister to a man who murdered his own family… twice. He is Aemond the Kinslayer and you would…”

“You should be proud sister. I’ve matched you with a prince! A disfigured, cruel man who reduced half the realm to ashes, but a prince no less. Just ignore the bloodlust and violence and I’m sure it will not be so bad. All you need do is bare his heir and look pretty.” His childish snickers as he cut you off had you seeing red, but you understood you could do nothing but seethe silently. How could he be so proud to sell off his sister to the notorious brute that had burnt cities to the ground and slayed anyone who got in the way of his family as they usurped Rhaenyra’s throne. His bloodlust had even led to the murder of his own kin. How could such an animal be expected to make a suitable husband?

The sound of the city guards yelling for the gates to be opened, and the grinding and rattling that followed meant that you had finally arrived at the red keep, and that your life was over at the meek age of one and twenty. Your brother wasted no time jumping from the carriage the moment the door was swung open, but you stayed for just a second longer. Hovering the tips of your fingers over the stitching of your family's sigil that was engraved in the cushions around you, you let out an unsteady sigh. You thought of your father, of his kindness and his love. His bravery and his wit. He would have let you marry someone you were comfortable with; he would have wanted you to have a peaceful life. Your brother was to throw you into the dragon den.

“May I present my sister to your graces?! She’s a shy little thing forgive her!’ You brother boasted with a joyous laugh. His hand reached into the carriage and grabbed blindly for you, leaving you no choice but to straighten yourself, and swallow the melancholy that came with remembering your past. You did not take his hand, but instead stepped slowly from the carriage with a bowed head, allowing almost no vision of what was in front of you. You let yourself fall into a graceful curtsey and remained low. There was large audience lined around the courtyard of the Red Keep, leaving you nervously tremble.

“Your graces.” You whispered, slowly letting your eyes raise. There were many figures that had lined up to welcome you, but it was the four at the very front who demanded your attention. King Aegon sat in his wheelchair; half his face taken up by the burnt scarring the late Princess Rhaenys had left him upon her death, looking bored by the entire meeting. His wife, Princess Heleana stood beside him, but her gaze was towards the empty spot to the left of us, and her incoherent mumbling seemed to be ignored by everyone around her. Her mother, Alicent Hightower, had a hand on her daughter's elbow but you could not decide if it was to support her daughter or herself. She seemed overcome by exhaustion and the lines on her face seemed to age her more than she was. Her hair had begun greying and the unkept strands made you think she had run her hand through it vigorously.

“Welcome to our court. We have been eagerly awaiting your arrival.” The smile that the dowager queen forced gave you no source of comfort, but you took the welcome as permission to stand at your full posture, and you finally allowed yourself to gaze upon your future husband. You would be lying if you did not admit to letting your gaze be drawn straight to the ugly scarring that peaked out from beneath his leather eye patch. It seemed to match the tight leather attire that fitted his lean body. He was a true Targaryen prince, with his perfect white hair and bright purple eye, so you were not shocked by his beauty. After all, Targaryen's were closer to the Gods than men. His looming figure was so still you could mistake it for a statue but proving not to be only by the slightest bow of his head as he gazed at you. His blank expression gave you no hint of whether he was satisfied by you and the silence that followed his mother's greeting left much to be uncertain of.

“I am much appreciative to be welcomed so kindly.” You wish you had the prowess to stand tall, or the courage to say something spiteful about this dreaded situation you had found yourself in; but you were scared.

“Pretty little thing you are my dear future sister. So innocent and quiet. I don’t know if my dear brother shall know what to do with you.” The King mocked Aemond boldly leaving a few courtiers to snicker, and Aegon turned his gaze knowingly towards his younger brother, eager for a reaction, but Aemond Targaryen simply stared at you. Trying politely to avert your gaze, your eyes moved to stare at his feet, but something drew your attention back to him not one minute later. His gaze was still on you.

“My sister shall allow whatever Prince Aemond desires. She is the most dutiful thing. I’m sure she will make a devoted wife.” You tensed at your brother’s demeaning comments and felt a swell of rage as the young king whistled in delight.

“Perhaps I shall wed her than! Take two wives just as my namesake did. Or perhaps I shall get rid of… that.” All eyes but one was drawn to Queen Heleana, but she did not notice and instead continued whispering with a sad smile. You could not help your brows from furrowing in empathy for the broken princess. It was no secret to the realm what horrors the woman had been through. The anguish that would come with watching your oldest son slain before your very eyes. The disrespect her husband spewed made your skin crawl. Feeling choked up by the pity, you averted your gaze towards Aemond Targaryen.

His eye had not left you.

You both stood in silence for a beat before Aemond slowly took a step forward. The quiet chatter of the courtiers stopped instantly and suddenly the atmosphere was heightened with anticipation of what the prince was about to do. Your breath was caught and with each step he took forward, you heart hammered harder. The lurching your stomach felt in the carriage was nothing compared to this very moment. It was as if time stretched longer than you ever thought possible, leaving you to feel as if you had been stuck in that one spot for eternity, waiting for the strides of your future husband to reach you. His lean figure was straight, and his gaze remained intense, inspecting your reaction as he moved towards you. When he finally reached your frozen figure, he towered over you, looking down with an almost cruel amusement in his eye. He finally moved his gaze from your face to give you a once over, slowly letting it fall down your entire body, before crawling back up.

“Shall I show you around the keep my lady?” His hand slowly extended, and you felt yourself hypnotised, reaching for it without a thought.

“I would be thankful for the tour of your home my prince, but I would not want to keep you from your duties.” You breathed out. If you were of the right mind, you would curse yourself at how kindly you greeted him, but alas you were overwhelmed by how close he stood, and how godly he looked up closely. Without breaking eye contact, Prince Aemond raised your knuckles to his lips and lightly let them brush against your skin, leaving the feeling of fire to consume your body.

“It would be my pleasure,” His voice was low as he finished the sentence with your name, and you were hypnotized by the way it rolled of his lips. If he had any idea of the sudden intoxication that had overpowered you, he did not show any hint of it, and you were thankful he did not boast of it. You were already to humiliated to bare. You were never the type of foolish girl to be besotted with a man, let alone a monster like this, but Aemond Targaryen seemed to conquer your very being with his mere presence. You were smart enough to recognise this was going to cause nothing but trouble for you.

“I would not wish to burden you.” You whispered softly for only his ears but threaded your arm over his awaiting arm all the same. You fell in step with his powerful strides and did not spare your brother a second glance as you passed him by. The prince breezed through the crowd who had come to gawk at the poor young girl who was getting sacrificed to this vicious man, and you found yourself revelling in the way they quickly scurried to the side to let you pass. Your amusement was short lived due to a hand reaching out and clutching at your elbow, leaving you staggering away from your future husband and into the body of a nameless courtier.

“Bless you sweetheart. Bless your poor soul. Let the Gods protect you from him.” The crowd around you began feverously whispering to one another, shocked by the man’s audacity, but the room was quickly silenced as two knights hoisted the man back with a shout and dragged him so fast, he had no chance to gain any footing. His body was dragged away as he cried and kicked his feet like a little boy leaving you once again unable to breathe. It was as if you had iced water thrown over you. The spell was broken, and you suddenly remembered who you held onto so eagerly. You were overcome by the smell of smoke and rot, as if you had been transported to the fields that Aemond Targaryen had so happily burnt to ashes. You swear you could smell the burnt flesh of his ghosts in that very moment.

“Come now my lady. Let’s get you away from this noise.” Aemond stared at the man being heaved away, expressionless. It was as if he was used to the scene that unfolded and was almost bored by the antics of the courtiers. You tried not to let him see your trembling fingers as you laced your hand upon his elbow and looked down in shame.

“What shall happen to him?” You don’t know why you asked, because you know what happens to those who speak out against this Targaryen family. Aemond began his pace once more but this time you could tell he was surveying every movement around them, waiting for another attack.

“He will be executed. We do not allow disobedience in our court.” He said your name as he finished his sentence and gazed down at you.

You understood the warning.

+++

Your wedding was a solemn affair. You had imagined when the time came around, there would be laughter and dancing, flowers and wine thrown around. Colourful and delightful with a husband who would steal kisses at the wedding feast and spend the night spinning you in his arms. Your family surrounding you. Your father hiding his tears as he watched you give your hand to the man you loved.

It was nothing like that. The crowd was silent as you walked. Not one person in the room smiled. The crowd bowed their heads in respect or pity, you cared not to know, and you had no energy to try and feign delight at the altar. Your husband was no different. He stared ahead with a grimace, but continued preforming the duty that was marrying you. You tried not to look at him during the ceremony but failed only once. He looked disconcerted by the whole experience making your heart ache. You wondered if he wished he was marrying the witch your brother had so carelessly mentioned. Your cursed heart ached at the thought. Not from jealousy, but from the desire of wanting to marry someone who wanted you. You were being chained to this man forever, and he wished for you to be someone else. But you could not fault him in that. Gods knows you too wished to be marrying someone else.

The wedding feast felt more like the wake at a funeral. There was a band playing some music in the balcony above, but no one moved. You sat stiffly by your new husband as you both stared ahead, trying to ignore the soft murmurs of the crowded hall. His finger were clenched around his chair and he did not speak as numerous courtiers steeped forward to present you both with your wedding gifts. It was left up to you to utter your appreciation at the useless artifacts while they scurried away, fearful of angering the prince with their presence.

“Please smile Aemond. Or do something that is not sitting there and scowling.” You pretended to ignore it when your new mother-in-law hissed into her sons' ear, then tried not to cower when he moved his hand to rest on yours above the table. The whole crowd would have seen the way you both flinched at the contact.

“Smile sister. This is a joyous occasion.” Your brother muttered lowly beside your ear, sometime after Alicent had ordered the same thing. You felt Aemond’s hand clench around yours just slightly, and you knew that he had heard your brother. Slowly you inched closer to your husband and gave him a slight smile, but you were sure it came out as a grimace instead.

“How will the Kingsguard handle tonight without their leader?” Whether it was out of politeness or awkwardness, you do not know, but the conversation you tried to start was quickly shut down by the monotone voice of your husband. He did not react to your words and let his gaze remain on the crowd below.

“I will be joining the patrols once we are finished our duty tonight.” You slipped your hand from his and clenched your wedding dress tightly in discomfort. You felt his gaze turn to you leaving your skin burning under his gaze.

“I see.”

You turned away from him and did not look at him until an hour later when he stood from his seat. The music halted at once and the room was silenced. The guards around the room quickly stood tall as Aemond surveyed the audience.

“My wife and I have grown quite tired from the festivities. It is time we retire to our bedchamber. Please, continue enjoying the feast my mother has so careful crafted.” Your new ladies-in-waiting quickly moved to your side from all corners of the room while the wedding party moved to walk you both to your doom. You were allowed to step into the room without your husband so that your ladies could help you ready yourself. On the other side of the door, Aemond was doing the same. It seemed he was joining you in your quarters tonight, in your new bed. There would be no safe place for you to escape the man.

“Are you alright my lady?” One of your ladies whispered as she undid your tight corset. The silk ribbon was unravelled and with each breath you released the closer you were to crumbling to the floor. You had spent the last two weeks in a constant state of fear and melancholy, and it all seemed to be coming to ahead at the worst time possible.

“I am alright Alyssa. Just tired.” You ignored the look the three women around you gave one another and instead moved your gaze elsewhere and landed on the worst possible spot. You had left your bed a crumpled mess this morning, after a night of restlessly tossing and turning, but you could not tell that anymore. The sheets were perfectly straight and tightened in the corners, folded down with such precision it made you feel sick. Your mother had died in childbirth, and you had no sisters so your knowledge of what was about to happen was limited, but you knew to expect the pain and blood at the hands of your husband.

“I hope you are not truly tired Brother. Your night has only just begun.” King Aegon slurred voice was muffled by the door but still audible. If you were not already filled with dread then, you sure as hell were now.

“Aegon, please just leave your comments for one night.” Alicent’s tired voice sighed back. You could not help the tears that began falling as your ladies began the final touches, fluffing your hair and untying the sleep gown so that it would be easier to remove. Without so much a glance at those in the room, you clamoured into the bed and wept.

“My lady, you cannot let them see this. They will think you ungrateful. It would do Prince Aemond great dishonour.” The three girls rushed to their lady in crisis and were quick to brush your hair from your face and hold you in comfort. You hardly talked to these girls, as they were a gift from your new family, and you assumed them to be spies for your husband and his scheming mother. But in this moment, you could only think of the comfort of being held.

“I’m scared.” You whimpered as they tried to sooth you with their murmurs.

“It is a scary thing my lady, but do not fret. It is over quicker than you can imagine.” Caitlyn, a relative of the Tully’s assured you as she stroked your hair.

“Oh yes. Just turn your gaze to something else in the room and it will be finished before you even settle on an object to admire.” Margaret, a distant relative of the Stark’s agreed with the assurance. It did not help but you appreciated the before. You wished to be held longer, but a stiff knock to the door echoed around your room.

“Is the Lady prepared?” The girls were quick to pat away your tears, and with a quick curtsey they moved to open the door. You instead turned your face to the side and stared at the new moon that was almost in the centre of the window frame. You did not need to look to know who had knocked.

“Yes, my prince. She is awaiting you.” With a curtsey they rushed out the room, leaving a silence that was only disrupted by the slight crackle of the candles that lit your room. You had tried hard to replicate the warmth of your room back home, but it had never felt colder. Time seemed to once again slow, and it felt a lifetime before you heard the click of the door closing. It remained quiet, and you thought for a second that your husband had perhaps decided he could not bear this just as much as you. Perhaps he had stormed off to the city to lead his guards in slaughtering the criminals within the walls of this wretched place. Perhaps you could sleep peacefully tonight, safe from the beast for one more night. The candles going out one by one let you know that your dreams were crushed, and that you were not alone in the room. He was silent as he crossed the floor, putting out all sources of light until you were left in the darkness of the night. The darkened moon did nothing to help you see.

“Do you know what to expect?” His voice sliced through the silence, choking you. You squeezed your eyes closed and did a small nod.

“I know enough.” You whispered as the bed beside you dipped. He sat beside you for a moment, and even in the darkness you could feel his eye on you.

“I shall try not to hurt you, but it will be uncomfortable.” Your eyes remained tightly closed and your fingers began to tremble. You did not expect any truth in his words. This man was vicious, known for the way he revelled in pain and torture. Why would he treat the daughter of a traitor any different?

“I would be most grateful.” You choked out and quickly turned away as you felt more tears build up. Aemond’s breath caught and for a moment it felt as he if was grieved by your whimper, but with a soft grunt he still turned to you and mounted his body atop of yours. The close contact of his chest on your chest sucked the breath from your lungs and you reached for his arms to stop him from crushing you, but he never did. He seemingly balanced his weight perfectly atop of you and slowly allowed his hand to rest on your hip.

“Please breathe. I do not wish to watch you suffocate wife.” He whispered as his fingers moved delicately across your clothed stomach. The reminder had you sucking deep in through your nose and exhaling staggered though your lips. His hand continued to dance lightly over your clothed torso, and you could not help but squeak as his hand moved towards your breast. You had never even kissed a man, let alone have one like this. He could not choke back his soft chuckle at your innocence, as he firmly pushed his palm down.

“Oh.” You whimpered in confusion. He pushed his hips down against yours and let out an almost relieved sigh at the contact. He began a slow movement of his hips as one hand groped you and the other clung to your hip. Your body felt alight with fire, and you could do nothing more but clutch at your husbands' arms in confusion. His teeth moved to your ear and your body arched against his at the feeling of them grazing your neck. Your brain seemed to stop and the overwhelming feelings that were all happening at once was almost too much to bare.

“Breathe.” He ordered in a soft murmur as his lips pressed on the skin between your jaw and ear. You wanted to tell him the truth in that very moment. You were trying to breathe, but you are worried you have forgotten how.

“Sorry.” Was all you could muster. His hand moved from your breast to trailing back down your body and began bunching the bottom of your nightdress up. You could feel the lace of it brushing up your legs leaving bumps to litter your skin at the soft caress. Your body froze in fear at what was about to happen. Once the dress was secured above your waist, you gasped at Aemond’s hand moving to clutch at your thigh. You were shocked at the feeling of someone else’s skin gripping yours.

“Have you prepared yourself?” He breathed out as he pushed his hips forward. It seemed to brush something that left you once again arching into him, only this time you were much more desperate to keep that contact.

“My ladies prepared me.” You stuttered out in confusion. Had he not already asked that to your ladies? His amused sigh made you think you had misunderstood his question.

“I sure hope they haven’t prepared you the way I ask about.” He grunted. Getting up on to his knees, you found yourself shivering at the loss of his body heat. Your arms dropped from his arms leaving you lying breath him, trying hard to steady your panting breaths.

“I have been bathed and pampered to.” His soft hum filled the room as you explained your answer, then he began moving his hand towards the inside of your thighs.

“My Prince!” You cried out, pushing away his fingers as they moved towards his destination. Your cheeks reddened with a deep crimson that only you could be aware of in this dark room.

“Do you want this to hurt? I promised I would help, and this is the only way.” He peeled your hands away and continued as if he had not been interrupted. Your irregular breaths began heavily, and you wondered if the whole castle could hear the noise.

“Prince…” You gasped as you felt his finger run up your most sacred area. He let out an almost disappointed sigh, and you were overtaken by the shame. Was there something wrong? Your fears were cut short as you felt him begin dancing the tips of his fingers down, then once again back up.

“You are not ready yet. But I shall prepare you.” His voiced was that of duty, with no shift of tone or colour. You had no choice but to lie in utter confusion at what was happening. No one had warned you about this part of consummating a marriage. The feeling of his fingers felt foreign, but you found your muscles almost relaxing under the touch.

“Aemond…” You sighed out his name without a though of his titles or nobility and this small gesture seemed to be enough for your husband to begin applying more pressure.

“Relax under my touch. This will help.” His voice whispered into the darkness. When he moved his finger up to begin circling your bud you almost flew from the bed. He seemed to expect such a reaction from you as he had already pushed his free hand into your stomach to keep you unmoving. You whimpered out his name again as he began to pick up speed and you found yourself trying to push away from his touch, even though you weren’t sure you wanted it to end. It felt as if a soft tremor was building inside your stomach, and you soon found your body clenching out of its relaxed state.

“Please don’t.” You don’t know what you were saying this but the fear at the feeling building inside you had you beginning to panic beneath his touch.

“Shhh, trust me.” He whispered your name above you before slowly moving his fingers to push inside you. The foreign feeling was too much, and you quickly gripped onto the second prince and screwed your eyes shut. His thumb remained circling your bud as his finger began stroking your inner walls leaving you crying out in shock. Your body tensed with each stroke of his fingers, and you soon began whimpering incoherently. You felt that pressure suddenly overcome you and it was no longer a soft tremor, but an overwhelming sensation that only kept building. It began the panic in your mind, and you clung tighter onto Aemond.

“Please…” You chocked out in desperation, pushing your hips forward into his palm. He began quickening his pace and you could not help but throw your head back and moan.

“You’re doing so well, good girl.” You don’t know what happened at his words, but your body arched, and you cried out as the waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you crying out and clutching Aemond’s shoulders. The pressure suddenly broke and you felt your voice disappear and instead seemed to scream out silently. Your body trembled and clenched throughout this feeling and Aemond did not halt his movements once. It was only when your body seemed to jolt from his touch that he slowed his movements pulled his fingers from you, leaving a slick trail to follow his touch.

“I’m… my prince, forgive me.” You were horrified by the way your body reacted at his touch.

“You did everything I had hoped you would.” He murmured before moving to unlace his pants. Your mind was too busy spinning to register the gesture, so you just stared dumbly as his hand slid underneath them. You watched in silent curiosity as his hand seemingly began moving and Aemond’s eyes furrowed in frustration.

“Could you… touch my arms or something?” He grunted as his hand seemed to quicken its movements. Your mouth was gaping like a fish as you cautiously nodded. With the gentlest touch you began tracing his arm upwards, blushing like madwoman. His movements did not halt once as you nervously ran your fingers up to his shoulders. You thought of his hand gripping your thigh, and how pleasing the firm grip he used was, so you nervously tightened your grip. It seemed to work because Aemond began adjusting himself out of his trousers. He allowed himself to fall forward to his original position of lying atop your body making your body still in anticipation of what was to come.

“Just turn your gaze to something else in the room and it will be finished before you even settle on an object to admire.” Margaret’s words were a reminder for you, so you turned your gaze to the window and tried to count how many stars you could see. You managed to get to twelve before he pushed himself into you and stole your gaze back greedily.

“Agh Aemond.” You were choked by the feeling as Aemond’s irregular breaths consumed your hearing.

‘I know, just…” He did not finish as he sunk deeper, and you cried out at the sharp pain inside you. It was not unbearable, but there was a great discomfort. You found yourself burying your head into his shoulder as he slowly began a slow movement with his hips leaving you gulping out a groan of pain.

“Just turn your gaze to something else in the room and it will be finished before you even settle on an object to admire.” One star. Two stars. Three stars. Your bottom lip trembled as the pleasure of your night seemed to finish and instead you were left trying not to squirm away in pain. Aemond’s silver strands kept moving to block your vision, so you finally turned back. Your nosed grazed his and you saw his eye widen in the darkness before his entire body stilled. He groaned deeply as he pressed his hips further into you and you could feel him twitching against you.

“It is done.” He breathed out. His movement was quick as he pulled out and moved to sit on the side of the bed. You were shocked by his quick movements and watched in a frazzled state as he quickly began relacing his pants. Following his lead, you pulled your dress back down and moved to rest against the headboard of your grand bed.

“I must attend the city watch now. I shall visit your chambers again tomorrow night until we…” You could tell a distant though had cut him off, but you knew what he meant. Until a child was conceived you would have to suffer him in your bed most nights.

“Did I…. Did I do something wrong?” You pulled the sheets to your chin in confusion at how desperate the man was to leave your company. He stood up and began pulling on his jacket that he must have taken off when he entered your rooms.

“You did everything perfectly. It is done now.” He moved towards the door, leaving you alone and disorientated by him. He turned back to look at you and you wondered what you must have looked like to him. Blushing and breathless, your hair a mess and your chest heaving, you assumed you looked a fool to the prince.

“Good night ābrazȳrys.” He mumbled. Your breath caught at his Valyrian, and you felt your brows furrow as the door quickly opened then closed swiftly. He was gone but you could hear a small commotion on the other side of the door.

“Aemond…”

“It is done mother; I have done my duty. Now leave me in peace.”

[velvetreds]

love like a tidal wave

romeo and juliet by sergio cupido.

pairing; iwaizumi hajime x female reader.

content warnings; medieval au. suggestive, mentions of infidelity, angst, happyish? ending. not proofread </3

word count; 2.2k

the sword in iwaizumi's hands clatters to the ground before he can react, and his opponent — oikawa — lets out a loud cackle that is much too inappropriate for their current situation. oikawa groans, waiting for iwaizumi to pry his eyes away from the princess. iwaizumi shakes his head, turning back to him. "you sound like a madman."

"well," sighs oikawa. "it is driving me insane, the way you pine for her highness."

"i don't," he replies, annoyed. they both know it is a lie.

a fair distance away from them, you are entertaining your latest suitor. the two of you are slowly walking towards them, appearing to be engrossed in conversation. iwaizumi wants to know what's so interesting.

your suitor is named suguru daishou, a slick, smooth-talking weasel of a man. his beady eyes irritate you, as does his voice. but you tolerate it to the best of your ability — until he brings up iwaizumi.

"i cannot, of course, be an exact... replacement for your wonderful knight when it comes to certain— activities, let's say—"

white-hot fury rushes through you as you wrench your arm away from him, storming away. "how dare you?"

he pulls you back to him by your wrist abruptly, and iwaizumi and oikawa are already advancing towards you as soon as it happens.

"your highness, i apologise—" he begins, but you cut him off.

"how dare you entertain such slanderous ideas about my knight?"

"it was merely in jest," he protests. "i—"

"do not waste your words," you say, now calmer. "i think it is in your best interest to leave."

iwaizumi does not notice how oikawa slows down and hangs back, until he's bowing to you, alone.

"iwaizumi," you say, and he dares to finally look up into your beautiful, radiant face.

"your highness."

"i am sorry that you had to witness such an outburst."

he shakes his head, appalled at how you're apologising, to him of all people.

"there is no apology required here, your highness," he rasps. "but you are alright? he was not too... invasive, was he?"

you smile gently at his concern, less formal than usual, and it has his heart clawing out of his chest with how perfect you are. ""of... course not. he just insulted someone who i hold extremely dear to me; i merely failed to control my temper. if there is any fault here, it is mine."

he tilts his head to one side, confused. "you are talking about— me?"

"yes, of course." gaze softening, you speak about this as if it is nothing important. as if you aren't ripping his heart out with your words, cruelly toying with it in your hands without a care in the world. "if one is to scorn my favourite knight, of course i am obligated to respond in turn."

he inclines his head, hoping you do not realise how hard his heart thumps against his chest, or how his lungs are betraying him, not allowing him to breathe. "next time— if there is a next time, pray let me handle it."

"as you wish, iwaizumi." you smile at him again, a sort of amused, pitying thing, before turning around with a swish of your skirts. "now, escort me to my quarters."

he nods, trailing slightly behind you as you walk. glancing back, he sees oikawa and the others watching, no doubt full of glee. but...

"pardon me if this is improper, but why me?"

"why you?"

"why did you ask for me in particular, i mean," he corrects himself hastily. "hanamaki and matsukawa were free, while oikawa and i were in the midst of sparring. is there a reason you are requesting for my escort in particular?"

you stay silent, and he's about to apologise, already regretting ever having brought it up. but you are unlike most of your kin; you answer all of his peculiar questions, indulge in every thought he dares to let out. "...no. i just prefer your company over those of others'."

he is glad that you cannot see the way his stoic features melt into a lovesick smile as you respond.

"you have plenty of other people willing to keep you company," he ventures next. "why do you always choose me?"

you pause abruptly, turning to stare at him in surprise, as if he's said something outlandish and strange. he almost bumps into you in return, backing away hastily to give you space. "why, iwaizumi, you are my knight. is that not reason enough?"

"may i say no? you have other knights too, your highness."

"must there be a reason for everything?" you muse. "maybe i am just fond of you."

the calmness of your words throws him off guard; do not read into it, he implores himself. do not ask another question. his brain catches up to his heart a second too late, and he's already speaking before he can stop himself. "fond of me, in the way it is appropriate for a princess to be fond of her knight," he says slowly. "or...?"

the unspoken question lingers in the air, and you do not respond for a moment. then: "iwaizumi, i gather you are smart enough to understand what i am implying."

he lets out a sigh, cheeks rosy. this is no longer the simple back-and-forth conversation you've had a thousand times before, he realises. he speaks quietly when he finally allows himself to. "your highness, you say such things with no care for my heart."

his voice is pleading, silently begging for you to stop here, to not let things go any further into uncharted territory. for the first time in an extremely long time, he finds himself terrified of what the future may hold.

you laugh, short and controlled. "surely a few soft-spoken words will not result in your untimely demise?"

he echoes your laugh with his own bitter one; you are wrong, it will kill him. and this is a death far worse than any other one, from the gallows to the battlefield. aloud, he responds, "you are correct, your highness. but it does not change the fact that you cannot be saying such things to me. it is not right."

"and why not?" your words are light, the meaning behind them heavy.

"you are... a princess, your highness. pardon me for being so bold, but you are speaking of things that will simply not happen. you are to marry a prince of a foreign land, secure alliances for us. not... do this. not with me."

your eyes tell him that you can't comprehend what he's saying. "iwaizumi, please."

he feels sick when he hears it, the way you say please. "do not— do not do that to me, princess, i beg of you."

your expression hardens suddenly, as if you've come to a conclusion. you look up at him, determined. "surely... one night will be enough?"

the breath disappears from his lungs, and his heart stops. has he heard right? he feels like a madman; he cannot believe his ears. one night? it will never be enough. "you are too cruel, your highness. do not say such things to me, please."

you swallow, looking away from him almost bashfully. "beggars cannot be choosers, iwaizumi, and i am desperate."

he blinks. what?

"desperate? you should not be desperate for me, princess. you know i am undeserving, unworthy of you."

"do not jest," you chide him, as if what you're talking about right now is not about life or death to him. "if anything, i am the one not worthy of you."

he lets out a tired scoff. "do not say such things like that about yourself, your highness; how could someone as elegant, as beautiful as you ever think they are not worthy of me? the greatest rulers would be lucky to have you. and you are a princess, and i am merely the knight appointed to your service."

instead of replying, you step closer to him and raise a hand up, letting your fingertips graze across his cheek lightly before you drop it. "iwaizumi, you are not nothing."

it takes all of his willpower to not react to your touch, to keep a straight face. he misses the gentle feel as soon as it leaves. you can see the pain in his eyes as he looks down at you. "please, do not touch me like that. you need to understand, i am nothing compared to you. you are my princess, yes, but only to protect, for now, until you find someone fitting to marry, to love. you cannot have such feelings for me."

"and if i do? what if that person is you, iwaizumi?"

a knife through the heart would have been less painful than this, he decides. maybe he should go find a sword after this; there is no way he will be able to live normally, look at you the way he does now. knowing that in another life, the two of you are able to have something more. "why do you say such hurtful things, princess? do you seek to punish me for loving you? by knowing my heart and still speaking to me like this?"

you twirl a lock of your hair thoughtfully around a finger, and you look so beautiful that iwaizumi thinks he might die. "of course not. i am merely speaking my thoughts, the truth."

he shakes his head. "your thoughts, this truth you speak of, that is what hurts me the most, your highness. i was resigned to loving you in secret, but this... this is too much."

"hajime, please."

he takes a step back, shakes his head again. his name, falling from your lips, is magical. "my princess, i cannot."

"just one night, i will be yours," you say, voice heartbreakingly soft. "let me, your princess, have this one thing in my insignificant life."

it is shameful, how badly he wants this. how close he is to letting go of all his morals, everything he holds dear to him, just for you.

"you are not insignificant," he whispers. "you are the princess. you have everything i will never have. i cannot do this, your highness. think of your future, your husband, when you will get married. what then? what will become of me?"

"hajime," you repeat.

"you say you want to be mine, but even if only for a moment, i would never be able to look at you the same way ever again. my insatiable heart would only ever yearn for more."

"and i would give that to you," you reply. you are reckless now, no longer caring about etiquette or status or anything other than him. "i am not above infidelity when it comes to you, iwaizumi."

"please," he says at last. "do not make me fall for you more than i have already."

"i—"

"we should get going." he doesn't let you finish as he starts walking again. this time, you have no response.

iwaizumi bows to you again as you stand in front of your chamber doors, and turns to walk away. but then you call after him — "darling," in your pretty, soft voice, so beseeching — and he breaks.

"darling," you say again, and he turns back to you. every step he takes weighs a thousand pounds; he knows he should stop, but he can't.

"my love," he breathes, when the two of you are finally standing in front of each other again. and you're smiling — not one of those tight-lipped, formal ones, but one reserved just for him — as you unlock the door and reach for his hand to pull him in. he swears there are fireworks going off around him as your hands finally, finally touch, as he enters your chambers for the first time as your lover instead of your knight.

he isn't sure what to do after all that buildup, when he's finally standing in your room, when you've locked your doors and come back. but you reach for the straps of his armor, pushing yourself up on your toes to whisper in his ear.

"your armor, take it off," you murmur, and he swallows harshly, fingers brushing against your own as his hands come up to assist you. you let the pieces clatter to the floor carelessly. as soon as you're done, you're reaching out to cup his face, and he's being pulled down to kiss you.

the first touch of your lips on his has him shuddering — it's intoxicating, you're intoxicating, and he is absolute putty in your hands as the two of you stumble blindly towards your bed. you're backed up against the headboard, fingers twisting around his hair when he looks up at you with hazy eyes.

"can't—," he pants, and he's yearning for your lips again, the few seconds apart already beginning to get to him. "need this forever, not just tonight, i can't, do you understand?"

you nod feverishly, thoughts blurring and melting into each other. "'sokay, hajime, i love you, i'll give you forever, do whatever it takes—"

"i love you," he echoes, and then he kisses you again.

title is from a match into water by pierce the veil.

authors note im shaking still. its 4am i dont know what im doing with my life but this is THE fic ive ever written. there is no better this is it. tagging some moots im sorry guys. also, may make a part 2.

@akaakeis @hatsukeii @causenessus @weepingangelboy

gen taglist -> @smiithys

[xx-lemon-drop-xx]

Thor, Shiva, Poseidon, and Hades meeting their child, but they are created by humans using splices of their DNA during battle. Would they kill their child, or surrender the fight for their child?

💜 Anon <3

Thank you for the request! I ate this up like a fucking gourmet meal. I had a bit of a hard time on Hades part deciding, and like you asked in pms I didn't add in Shiva. Thank you for requesting!

Warnings: reader death, gn reader swearing, angst, Poseidon being Poseidon, wounds, ooc characters.

Request: Yes.

Words: 3,064.

Thor

Humans were distasteful, obnoxious and utterly shameless creatures. That was known to the gods as soon as they chose to pave their own paths and religions. And destroy the land granted to them by doing so. Ragnarok was a pointless arena full of boisterous clowns who’d assumed they had a chance. Thor was going to shatter those hopes.

The arena was deathly quiet as Thor was introduced as the first God up, Zeus’ plan to crush the hopes and dreams of fellow humans. On the god’s side of the arena, Goddesses, demi-gods, nymphs and others alike cheered at his arrival, despite his silent annoyance. 

Heimdal cleared his throat, speaking into the mic to introduce Thor’s opponent. “And on the human side we have a guest made specifically to mimic the humans creators. Using the DNA of the righteous Thor. A man-made god. Child against Father. Introducing (Y/n)!” 

It was a shushed silence of horror between man and god, a tense silence and a deadly aura. Zeus was shocked, though a look of slight interest was on his face. Aphrodite and Hermes had their hands over their mouths. And as expected Ares was yelling out a string of curses against the humans who dared defile godly presence. 

Brunhilde, ever the calm, had her arms crossed over her chest whilst Goll couldn't even bring herself to speak. A man-made god? It sounded distasteful and shockingly sad. 

The humans all had different reactions as well, Qin was overly interested, Adam was disappointed, Sasaki could only voice his thoughts in bitterness. “Their whole creation.. For a fight? How pitiful.” 

Of course, the norse gods were to be affected the most out of this. The room's atmosphere seemed to darken, Odin’s nails digging into the chair and crumbling it under his strength. Pesky humans, making a child out of Thor’s dna? The thought alone caused his blood to boil, soaking the others in his rage as the aura of the room grew dark. Of course he couldn't leave it to those human pests to play fair, rather to stoop low enough to challenge their pride.

Loki’s smile shaped across his face big enough to threaten to tear the skin at his cheeks, his fingers grasping at his cheeks and dragging them down his face, tongue snaking out as his eyes trend towards that damned Valkyrie. What an interesting specimen indeed. 

Thor had a straight face, though underneath that facade was a brewing storm. How.. Interesting. Facing what would be his child in a battle to the death. A kin he’d never met before, a kin he had no share of memories with. A kin he didn't even know he existed. Mjollnir felt heavier in his grasp for a moment. And he didn't quite understand why. You resemble him quite a bit. But was that something he should be proud of, as a person he’d never known existed. 

Then, why was he so hesitant? Even the birds flying ahead seemed to quiet right down, joining the silence in the stadium. 

“What is your name?”

“(Y/n).”

You had his quiet atmosphere too. How intriguing. Or perhaps you were stripped of those emotions a long while ago? He would have those human heads on a rope after he finished this fight.

“Ready yourself. Show me what a child of thunder can possess.” 

Grabbing his hammer from its place next to him, he readied himself, and the clash between child and father began. You used no weapon, only the condensed electricity you created from fingertips. What an interesting being. No. How interesting his child was. You had complete control of lighting, redirecting his own power and using it back against him. You were quite fast too. Was this a branch of the power you controlled in that tiny body of yours, (Y/n)? 

The insane grin that nabbed at Thor’s face while he fought felt like parental bonding. If only for a fleeting moment. He wondered, did you enjoy fighting as much as he did? The adrenaline, the pain, the excitement? But nothing showed through those unperturbed serious eyes of yours. 

He of course noticed your changes. Your body couldn't handle the surplus of power. You were deteriorating. Such was the curse of a god being produced by a human. Your mortality would be your demise. So why did he want to stop despite all of the emotion of the fight running through his veins like smoldering lava? 

Stopping wasn't a possibility though. In this tournament of power it was kill or be killed, slay or be slain.

Somewhere deep down, Thor knew you knew this was it. The final remnants of battle. Your finishing move skewered the sky apart in a flurry of blinding light, The loud crackle of lightning hitting the ground had everyone but him closing their eyes and turning away as dust blew through the stadium. He felt it though. The pain you felt in your attack. Against your creators, your family, against him. Against the world. The bloodthirsty need for revenge.

As it died down hitched gasps of shock and whispers of sweet ignorance rang through the air. Thor could feel that damned Valkyries eyes cutting through him like razor blades. 

Falling to the ground, You broke apart into gorgeous green crystals that blew through the stadium in a soft wind. Through chill, glazing over eyes you saw Thor standing above you, nodding his head in proud approval. And what a wonderful emotion that was, flooding through your systems. The tears that filled your vision blurred out the world, hand outstretching in a final attempt to reach towards him but falling short. Your body stiffened, deteriorating. 

Maybe in another time, things would have been different. Things would've been happier. Maybe you would've survived. Maybe in a different universe you and him were close, maybe you knew each other. The world was full of unfilled and empty maybes. Like a tapestry of lies. 

“Rest, dear child of mine. I will seek the revenge your soul deserves.” 

Poseidon

This whole thing was an annoyance to Poseidon. A Valkyrie thinks humanity deserves a chance and the gods agreed? What petty foolishness. They should have wiped the floor with those pesky vermin without a second glance. Yet here he stood, with half the stadium full of them and the other half full of slightly smarter idiots.

Only one person here deserved any glaces; and that was his elder brother and Hades alone. 

After giving the obnoxious audience some time to calm down, Heimdal began to speak, “And for our humans side, produced from splices of the sea gods dna himself, I present to you, (Y/n!)”

The stadium went utterly silent. As if everyone was afraid to move a muscle, despite (Y/n) herself, walking up through the water with ease. The aura in the stadium was changing, darkening down in the belly of anger. Loki was ferocious, but amused all the while, hands coming up to cup his face as insane laughter echoed through from his place on one of the other thrones. Were these humans crazy or just stupid? Making a man-made god from one of the most feared to walk the mortal realm and Valhalla itself? Why of course they had to be, no one in their right minds would do such a desperate thing to win. Aphrodite and Shiva were in a silent state of shock and anger, while from a different room, Thor lifted his head in interest.

Brunhilde held a grin that showed her pearly whites, loving the gods' reactions. Did they truly think she wouldn't pull the strings as tight as they could go? “Sis.. That's.. That's terrible!” Goll was in a state of denial shock, looking down at the arena where the two fighters stood. 

 Sasaki’s hand rose to rub his chin in thought. “What matching auras those two have. I wonder, do they have the same mind, or were they carved into indifference differently?” Raiden laughed, one of borderline disbelief. “That poor kid. Made just for the fight huh?” The emotions ranged differently. Tesla wanted to know through what where you produced? How many failures were there before you? Science. 

Zeus’ aura threatened his temper, his muscles bulking up and his hand raising to stroke his beard in interest. Through what thought process did those humans thought they would get away with something like this? Hades was in a silence, deep in thought and emotions indecipherable. Ares was in an uproar and Hermes was sipping tea in amused interest.

Poseidon himself had no thoughts or words despite what he came here to do. It didn’t matter if you were made from his Dna or from his skin alone. Standing in front of him was another being unworthy of his time and his precense. Though, you both did look alike and share the same steely resolve. 

“Insolent pest.” You both shared a mirrored scowl, your head tilting to the side in mocking defiance. 

“Lily-livered snot sniffer.” 

Zeus let out a laugh of pure amusement. eyebrows shooting up, whilst a smirk curled up on Hades face. 

Poseidon faced what seemed to be a mirror image of himself. And that was not something he took kindly to. Especially not your attitude either. With a burst of speed Poseidon was on top of you, Trident already thrusting directly at your face. Although, you weren't his child for no reason at all. 

Poseidon narrowed his eyes ever so slightly as you parried his attack with water. That was his domain. Though it seemed now it ran through the blood relation you both had. How interesting it was, such an inadequate person could control such a sliver of water with a few twitches of fingertips. Blood splattered across the floor or the arena before anyone could muster up a gasp, eyes widening. 

“Th-There seems to have been blood dropped already! (Y/n) has sliced the Great Poseidon straight across the chest!” Heimdal screamed out, much to both of your annoyances. So this, this beast of a man was your father? No wonder you acted like a snob. The both of you disappeared from sight again, after images fleeting across the arena as you both taught toe to toe. Like a dance. Poseidon was almost impressed. But his copy was just a copy and the original was always the better of the options. 

He spun around his Trident, dripping with the blood from your cheek and shot forwards, releasing a barrage of attacks. Amphitrite. Though you weren't so slow not to catch up, even shooting past some of his attacks enough to make him back up. More blood splattered across the floor of the arena. The both of you now suffering wounds. 

You manipulated water with ease, he had picked up on, making weapons out of it and shields. Even waves to try and knock him around. Though you weren't the only one that could control water. Your movements were filled with underlying anger, he'd noted. Anger towards what? He didn't know and he didn't bother to ask either. He didn't come here for a sob story. 

You pierced him through the side with a spear of water, and he did the same to you, the both of you twisting around. You were beginning to get dizzy, blood loss affecting you. He'd noticed the rings on your hands seemed to be your divine weapon. Though you could likely control water just fine without it too. 

The fight ended three minutes after it started, his Trident plowing through your stomach. He let your body slide down towards him, your hands gripping onto the poke of the Trident. “Not bad.” He said bluntly, eyes widening as you raised a hand, severing his arm from his shoulder in a lasting rage before breaking apart into the air in a flurry of green. 

He moved off the arena with silence, leaving you to disperse into the rest of the air. Good enough to be his child, no. But.. A worthy opponent indeed. You'd even managed to take off his arm. 

“Not bad at all..”

Hades

Hades was here for one reason. To avenge his dear brother. He didn't bat an eye at the disputing differences between humans and the other gods, his eyes held a calmness as he was introduced into the arena. The crowd sounded excited to some extent, he'd noted. Yet again, it wasn't everyday you got to see the god of the underworld come up for a fight. He had business to attend to yes, but this was much a more important matter to handle. 

“Created by humans in the image of Hades, I present to you, (Y/n)! Representing humanity for this round of Ragnarok! Don't let them surprise you, made from Hades Dna, they're expected to pack a punch.” Heimdal introduced you to the field, much to his interest and the gods' anger. 

What did they mean, a human made god? What bullshit. Shiva laughed at the thought of it, hiding a bout of anger under it all. How annoying. Those humans really thought they could create a god of all things. Why, it was just laughable. Buddha's eyebrows shot up in keen interest, a smirk taking up on his lips. “Well well.. Looky here. Brunhilde, you sly Valkyrie, using Hades' love of family against him.” Loki and Aphrodite's mouths were slightly slack as they stared down at you. “Well.. Aren't they just gorgeous?” Aphrodite murmured. 

Brunhilde held a wicked grin as her and Hades shared eye contact, her smile only widening in amusement. Ah, the looks on their faces. It was something she could lounge in for days. 

The humans were filled with interest, Adam sitting up a bit against Eve's lap. “A man made god? But how?” Technology wasn't his thing, suffice to say the least. Qin was quite amused, leaning forwards to view the arena better. And Jack hummed. “I sense quite the amount of anger in that young one's veins.” “Anger?” Adam questioned, frowning. “Why of course, good sir.” Jack poured some tea, “Hoe would you like, being created simply for the purpose of war? A shame it would be, yes?” 

Zeus and Adamas stared down into the arena, eyes wide in utter shock. “What do those filthy pests think they're doing!? Using my brother's DNA to make.. Make a pawn!” Adamas bellowed out, making his anger known to the group. “Calm now, dear brother. Humans can stoop quite low when they feel threatened. I expected no less.” Zeus rasped, clearing his throat. “You're just okay with this!?” Ares choked out, “Why no, I'm quite.. Pissed, Ares.” Zeus responded, steam rolling into the air from his small noodle body. 

Hades held an expression nothing less of surprise, though it calmed almost immediately. So, this could be considered his child? Why, they both did look strikingly similar. From the nose to the eyes down to the tips of their toes. How interesting. He took a step towards, though not a threatening one, holding his weapon with a firm hand. “I am here to avenge my brother. My apologies, little one.” 

“I am here.. Because I have to be.” That didn't seem a reason that involved importance. Rather more than force. But could he really do this? Yes, his brother was family but this.. Spawn was as well. Hades wore he would protect his family to the best of his ability, wasn't that going against his words? 

He launched forwards, and you dodged him with ease, slicing your skin open with the iron claw-like ring you wore on your finger. And the blood transformed. How interesting. He dodged the incoming weapon, made from straight blood and twisted around to stab at your side, catching the skin of your shirt only. Well aren't you just a quick one on your feet?

That was something he could respect. You seemed well trained. Despite the blows dealt between the both of you, Hades could tell there was an underlying rage. Towards humans? He'd wondered. Well, that would make sense. You've been used from the day you were born. How much of that could you take though. 

He sent you flying back into the wall with a timed attack, watching you crawl back to your feet. “Not bad, for someone not trained by a god's hand.” 

“Not bad for a dead man.” Your words were blunt as you charged forwards, and Hades' side stepped, at this point just toying with you a bit. This was a hard decision. And Zeus and Adams were on their toes about what his answer would be. 

The fighting lasted for a good long while, the both of you covered in blood. You staggered forwards after a long while. Honestly, he was impressed. Hades never knew someone could withstand blood loss as long as he could. Perhaps it ran in the genes. His opponents' defenses were open. 

The tip of his bidet tore into your skin, and he watched you prepare through the ending blow. Pulling away his bidet with a drawn out hesitant breath, Hades knelt down, and brushed some hair from your eyes, before extending his hand. 

“Come on, (Y/n). Let's go home.” 

The series of words were weird and (Y/n) wasn't used to them. No, you weren't used to them at all. But his eyes held the gentleness of a warm bath after a long tiring day. He supported your weight as you both stood up, surrendering the fight to the humans. 

“I won't let you fall into their hands again, kid. We have a lot to learn about each other. You are angry. And you deserve to be angry. And you deserve to process.” 

Hades wondered what Poseidon would have thought of this? Would he think of him as a coward? That didn't matter now. He had a child to introduce to the family. His head raised, looking into the wide eyes of a stunned audience as the both of you walked on out of the torn apart stadium. 

[whydoyouwantmyname]

Imagine Alicent finally realizing what Otto did

Your hands were folded on your lap as you stared to the large doors of your throne room. Your butt sat upon a Throne which did not belong to you, but rather the niece of your husband, a girl who you basically raised with your sister once your mother, and her own passed. Her father to occupied with talks of succession and wars, and wild boar to notice the secret strings being pulled by your own father.

It was Daemon who told you of the raven sent by your sister, the widow of the king whom you had not spoken more than five words to since her wedding when you fled with Daemon and became his bride. While you spoke often with the other Targaryens, the Hightowers viewed you as the traitor of the family, a title given to you by your father, and believed without question by your sister, who was now in your home somewhere.

And just as the thought of the last conversation with her crossed your mind, the doors opened, and with a soft smile you saw your son, his hair shaggy like Jace’s and silver like his father’s. The gods had blessed you with your children all being alive and healthy, a smile slowly spreading as your eldest son looked to you, “Aunt Alicent has just arrived, she is alone, as she promised.”

“Not even Ser Criston is with her? Shocking, I thought she would have at least brought the man who has offered her pleasure all these years.”

“She must not feel she is in danger.” He spoke, his tone similar to his father’s as you chuckled, “She must not know your father then, as her recent decisions to disregard her late husband has sparked… danger for her.”

“Father will not harm her without your word.” He answered, “He may be rash but you know as well as I that he will never jeopardize his love for you.”

“Pār ziry iksos nykeā mittys.” (Then he is a fool). You stated as he looked to you but before he could defend the words of your father, your eyes caught sight of Green approaching.

“Henujagon īlva.” You instructed your son as he turned to the doors, but not before looking to his aunt and muttering, “Your highness.”

“You need not be so formal Rhovio.” Alicent spoke as he nodded, and proceeded to leave.

“I apologize for raising my children to respect the throne, and the members of royalty.” You replied as Alicent’s eyes slowly shifted to you.

“You never need to apologize to me sister. It is I who should be demanding your forgiveness.”

“Why?”

“Because I now see why father encouraged me to comfort Viserys. He did so to have his heirs take the iron throne, for he was a spider.”

“I warned you of that.” You replied

“And I didn’t listen, and because of that I seek your forgiveness.”

“Are you also to ask for Rhaenyra’s forgiveness? For not only have you stolen her throne but your son murdered hers, for those crimes sister demand your apologies far more than your inability to listen to your kin.” You snapped, your body slowly raising as you started down the steps towards her, “For when word came of your visit, my husband wanted to behead you, yet I told him you deserved a chance to right your wrongs and bend the knee to her, but I see now your too far gone into Father’s desires to rule the seven kingdoms to admit when you are wrong.”

“What happened to you?” Alicent whispered as your smile grew and a laugh left your mouth, “I saw through Father’s plan, that’s what. Now unless you are apologizing for your treason, I suggest you go back to King’s Landing, before I ride there upon my dragon and take the rightful throne of Rhaenyra myself.”

“My darling sister…” she whispered again, however you looked to her again, cutting her off, “Alicent.”

Her eyes watered, as your hand went to her face, her cheek cradled in your palm as her eyes closed, a single tear straying down her cheek as you wiped it with your thumb. Silence growing heavy as you looked upon the youngest Hightower in pity, and with longing, as you wished nothing more than to save her from your father. Finally though you were forced to break the silence, “Go sister. Be wise, and do not let the men of your court fool you anymore than they already have.”

—————

As she sailed away, you watched from the balcony, your eyes straining as you watched her ship slowly disappear into the horizon.

“Nyke ūndegon se dāria emagon geptot.” (I see the queen has left.) his voice low as his hand went to the small of your back, a shiver crawling up your spine as you whispered, “Ziry gōntan daor obūljagon.” (She did not bend the knee.”

“Ziry dōrī jāhor, ziry iksos stubborn raqagon zȳhon mandia, se blinded ondoso aōha kepa” (She never will, she is stubborn like her sister, and blinded by your father)

“Ziry eptan forgiveness.” (She asked forgiveness.) you whispered, before looking to him, “ Ziry ūndan otto syt se ēlī jēda se ñuhoso nyke gaomagon” (She saw Otto for the first time the way I do)

“Ao nūmāzma hae se power merbugon orvorta bona ziry iksos?” (You mean as the power hungry cunt that he is?) Daemon asked as you looked back to the sea

“Daor, ziry ūndan skorkydoso pathetic ziry iksos… se realized ziry iksos keskydoso.” (No, she saw how pathetic he is… and realized she is the same)

[ultimate-marysue]

I know that all the names of The Locked Tomb Series have a lot of deep meaning but I just love the Seventh house. Like, the way you can figure out the plot twist just by reading the names. (Spoilers for Gideon the Ninth).

Dulcinea is named after Dulcinea del Toboso from El Quijote. The titular Quijote lives in a fantasy world due to reading too many books about Knights, so he starts imagining the world around him as the one from his books. He kinned too close to the sun. Dulcinea del Toboso is his lady love, the most perfect woman in existence. Obviously Don Quijote's "squire" Sancho Panza doesn't believe Dulcinea exists. She's part of Quijote's fantasy. So to try to snap him out of it he brings him a peasant woman named Aldonza Lorenzo, ugly and stinky, saying it's Dulcinea. Quijote assumes she must be under some curse and bows to free her (he never gets to). So obviously when I read Dulci's name in Gideon the Ninth and she turns out to be too perfect to be real...yeah, I figured out that wasn't the real necromancer from the seventh. Tbf, I'm from Spain so Dulcinea immediately triggers my second grade memories.

Protesilaus. This one's crazier and I didn't get it until the end of the book. You see the name sounded familiar and I was sure it was from some Greek myth or tragedy. Turns out in the Iliad the Oracle tells the Greeks that the first man to set foot on Troy would die. That's why Odysseus jumped on his shield to not "set foot on trojan soil". Protesilaus was the first one to actually disembark and, as such, was killed. Just like TLT protesilaus was the first one to die (protecting Dulci). Also in some versions of the story his wife, wracked with grief, asks the gods to see her beloved again. The gods take pity on her and allow her five minutes, after which they both die. This reminds me of how the real Protesilaus was brought back by Harrow's bubble, created by her grief for Gideon.

Cytherea is another name for Aphrodite and Gideon's very obvious lust aside, this tracks too. Not only is Cytherea described as really beautiful, she's a Lyctor which makes her godlike. It's also her love for her cavalier that makes her lose her head a bit. And even while she's Killing everyone in Canaan House she makes it a point to state that she still loves all of the contestants. She even admits to still loving John (much like Mercymorn). Also, the one that finds out she's not who she says she is is the man in love with the real Dulcinea.

Gotta love Tamsyn spoiling her book with names. This series is so fucking good.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Has anyone noticed the similarities between Sauron and Gollum in “Rings of Power”?

Deep down here by the dark water lived old Gollum, a small slimy creature. I don’t know where he came from, nor who or what he was. He was Gollum. The Hobbit

Riddles were all he could think of. Asking them, and sometimes guessing them, had been the only game he had ever played with other funny creatures sitting in their holes in the long, long ago, before he lost all his friends and was driven away, alone, and crept down, down, into the dark under the mountains. The Hobbit

They cursed us. 'Murderer', they called us. They cursed us, and drove us away. And we wept, precious. We wept to be so alone. And we forgot the taste of bread, the sound of trees, the softness of the wind. We even forgot our own name. Return of the King (2003)

“What a pity Bilbo did not stab that vile creature when he had the chance!”

“Pity? It was Pity that stayed his hand. Pity, and Mercy: not to strike without need. And he has been well rewarded, Frodo. Be sure that he took so little hurt from the evil, and escaped in the end, because he began his ownership of the Ring so. With Pity."

“He deserves death"

“Deserves it! I daresay he does. Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. For even the very wise cannot see all ends. I have not much hope that Gollum can be cured before he dies, but there is a chance of it. And he is bound up with the fate of the Ring. My heart tells me that he has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before the end, and when that comes, the pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many--yours not least"

Fellowship of the Ring, Shadow of the Past

The “my precious” face:

Gollum looked at them. A strange expression passed over his lean hungry face. The gleam faded from his eyes, and they went dim and grey, old and tired. A spasm of pain seemed to twist him, and he turned away, peering back up towards the pass, shaking his head, as if engaged in some interior debate. Then he came back, and slowly putting out a trembling hand, very cautiously he touched Frodo’s knee – but almost the touch was a caress. For a fleeting moment, could one of the sleepers have seen him, they would have thought that they beheld an old weary hobbit, shrunken by the years that had carried him far beyond his time, beyond friends and kin, and the fields and streams of youth, an old starved pitiable thing.” The Two Towers

This is not random, because not only Sméagol was corrupted by the One Ring (Gollum), but he was also captured and tortured by Sauron himself for information in Barad-dûr (Mordor) to learn who had the One Ring, in the Third Age (in the books, Sauron is not a giant eye ball on the top of a tower).

However, Sauron let him go (instead of killing him), which is odd not only by Sauron’s standards, but because Gollum knew Sauron’s plans, and releasing him would be a terrible risk (especially for a being as secretive as Sauron). And indeed it was, because it allowed Gandalf to know that Sauron was planning to use the Nazgûl to get the One Ring, and that he was aware that Bilbo had it, and the Nine Riders were headed for the Shire.

However, that’s what Sauron does. And why? Tolkien himself answered, in the Unfinished Tales: Sauron saw something on Gollum.

“He [Sauron] did not trust Gollum, for he divined something indomitable in him, which could not be overcome, even by the Shadow of Fear, except by destroying him.”

What did Sauron see? We don’t know, because Tolkien does not say. Only that Gollum made him uneasy, and he was not able to discern why.

Some theorize that Sauron might have seen Eru’s plan for Gollum in the creature (he would be the one to take the One and cast into the fire), and couldn’t kill him by “divine intervention”. To me, this theory doesn’t make much sense, because if this was what Sauron saw, why release Gollum, in the first place? Why not keep him a prisoner in Mordor to prevent this from happening?

Others say that Sauron did not trust Gollum but knew he would seek out the One Ring, and he could use this to his advantage, and that’s why he let him go. This is more likely, but still doesn’t explain why Gollum stir something in him.

And it seems that “Rings of Power” might be exploring this angle by giving Sauron some Gollum inspo. Which might mean that Sauron shared a recognition with Gollum. Which makes sense, since the he was corrupted by the One Ring, which holds a part of Sauron’s soul.

This makes me wonder, if we’ll get a scene like this in future seasons:

Frodo looked straight into Gollum's eyes which flinched and twisted away. 'You know that, or you guess well enough, Sméagol,' he said quietly and sternly. 'We are going to Mordor, of course. And you know the way there, I believe.' 'Ach! sss!' said Gollum, covering his ears with his hands, as if such frankness, and the open speaking of the names, hurt him. Two Towers

Frodo's calling Gollum by his true name has opened a door within him that had long been shut. It’s Gandalf that tells Frodo Gollum’s real name in the chapter The Shadow of the Past in “Fellowship of the Ring”.

Gandalf uses the name “Sméagol” in the past, never in the present (he calls him “Gollum”): this establishes a duality between the two names: Sméagol vs. Gollum. Pretty much the same as Mairon vs. Sauron. Sméagol is the “forgotten things” of Gollum’s past; like Mairon the Admirable is to Sauron. Gandalf admits he has hope that “Gollum can be cured before he dies”, meaning redeemed. This was Halbrand in Season 1; the Repentant Mairon.

Frodo, by addressing Gollum as Sméagol, evokes (or hopes to) the memory of these “forgotten things” (like Gandalf told him). Of course, Gollum is far into his corruption (being a ring-bearer to the One for over 500 years), for a mere evocation of his true name to redeem him, however, it could open the door to the hope of.

Indeed Gollum himself makes the distinction between the two: “Don't ask Sméagol. Poor, poor Sméagol, he went away long ago. They took his Precious, and he's lost now.” Or “No precious, no Sméagol”. In Gollum’s mind, “Sméagol” was lost not with the murder of Déagol centuries before, but when he lost the One to Bilbo.

In the Peter Jackson adaptation, this scene translated into this:

Frodo: Who are you? Gollum: Musn't ask us. Not his business, gollum, gollum. Frodo: Gandalf told me you were one of the river-folk. Gollum: Cold be heart and hand and bone, cold be travellers far from home. Frodo: He said your life was a sad story. Gollum: They do not see what lies ahead, when sun has failed and moon is dead. Frodo: You were not so different from a Hobbit once, were you... Sméagol? Gollum: What did you call me? Frodo: That was your name once, wasn't it? A long time ago. Gollum: My... my name. Sméagol....

In Season 2, it was Gandalf who had to earned his name via finding his staff. His character arc parallels Sauron’s in “Rings of Power”, which makes me wonder if his real name (Mairon) might come into play in Season 3.

Especially since we had so many mentions of him having “many names” in “Rings of Power”, already.

Which raises another question: did he, like Gollum, forgot his real name?

But who could come into play in this scene? The character who’s paralleling Frodo and Bilbo, of course: Galadriel.

[retroillustrates]

I'm here to annoy yall with tragic (and slightly exaggerated) art I reused an old illustration to draw a scene from my microfic

(I don't promise I won't do this again lol)

Fic under cut if yall don't feel like going to my AO3

Hashirama's eyes followed the man who is staggering in front of him. His moves sluggish and raw from the battle, both of their armors half destroyed.

"I guess I underestimated you, Hashirama." Madara half laughed, half choked on his own blood which he promptly spat on the muddy ground. Rain had begun pouring down at some point.

"Madara, cease this. It's not too late to return." Hashirama started, but Madara laughed at him

"You're still at it, Hashirama? Haven't we decided upon that in battle? It is too late. It had been for quite some time." Madara wiped the blood off his lip, his sharingan deactivating from exhaustion.

Hashirama clenched his fists "You're willing to just throw away our dream like that? What changed, Madara?" he didn't want to acknowledge what protecting the dream meant: stopping anyone who opposed it, even if it meant death.

"Wake up to reality, Hashirama. I never changed. I'm simply taking action. It's time to properly establish peace upon the world, and I'll be the one to accomplish it."

"Is that not what we both wanted, Madara?" Hashirama took a step towards him. Had all of what they went through been for naught? Just empty words? "Your idea of peace is unstable, and doomed to fail. How can you see prosper in such a foolish ideal? People are not like you, they are selfish and self serving. No one will ever ne truly able to understand each other." Madara took a step forward as well.

Another step, and another step, and they were face to face again.

Hashirama looked at Madara's form. He was battered and bruised all over, but his eyes showed determination. Misguided determination. Hashirama almost pitied him. He wanted to help him but at the same time he could not abandon his legacy just as it was starting to grow it's roots.

"Madara, stop this. We both want the same thing, and we cannot achieve it alone. Come back to the village. If it's about the Uchiha discrimination issue, I'll resolve it with Tobirama, and-"

Madara laughed again. Hashirama found it unsettling "You just can't get a grip, can you? It's not about the damn clan, Hashirama, not even about my dead kin!" he growled, revealing a kunai he sneaked from his sleeve. Hashirama met it instantly with his katana and disarmed Madara in a matter of seconds. Madara fell to his knee.

"You've exhausted yourself. You can't fight me like this." he looked down at the man, who was taking in painful breaths. "I don't wish to kill you, Madara."

Madara huffed "And yet you fought me with all your might." he looked up at the man, who had his sword still pointed at him "And you also want me at your side for your silly ideale that are doomed to fail and bring more traumas to the following generations. You may preserve the" peace," but will you be able to preserve those for whom that peace will be for?" he grinned, his face twisted and sinister. Hashirama took a step back. He'd never seen Madara like that.

"And if you really want me and need me that bad, then take me!" Madara laughed again, and charged at him, allowing Hashirama's blade to run through his heart. Hashirama screamed in horror as Madara's body fell to the ground, the rain spreading the crimson across the wet ground.

"Anything for your dream, is that so? Curse you for a slayer." the Uchiha's eye glowed in the dark, dripping with red, and Hashirama felt sick, felt like he wanted to scream over and over.

*

"Hashirama!" a voice called out to him.

His body shook and he jolted up with a yell. He felt Mito's hands on him, a comforting presence in the hell of his mind.

"Nightmares?" she knew him well. He nodded.

"I know well how bad they are." she whispered. He leaned into her arms and she found no more words of comfort.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

The Dragon’s Spoil (Aemond Targaryen x Rivers! Reader)

Part 1   |   Part 2  |   Part 3   |   Part 4

Summary: The baseborn daughter with little knowledge of who your Lord father was, your life is caught in the midst of war. The Riverlands are the base for the Greens and the Blacks, dragons loom in the skies, and men die daily, especially within the walls of the cursed Harrenhal. It’s only when a certain one-eyed dragon comes for his retribution. The year is 130 AC and war endures.

A/N: You’re Alys Rivers but with less sorcery and more so just judgement over being a bastard. You’re around the same age as Aemond, maybe two-three years older than him at the time of the Dance.

Wordcount: 2,400

The Dragon’s Revenge

It is known by Commons and Nobles alike that the Targaryens have always ruled the skies.

They had for the last century: when the Old King had his decades of peace, continuing to his grandson, Viserys I. Dragons continued to fly over towns and for that century, the common people stared in both admiration and terror.

Peace did not continue for long, not after the death of the King and its disputes finally sprung forth. Rhaenyra, the King’s eldest daughter and Aegon, the second born but eldest living son from his second marriage had begun their war for the throne, and the people suffered for it. 

It didn’t matter what the poor folk thought, not when their opinions were silenced over the sounds of constant clashing steel and the rumbling of dragons roaring above. Wherever war went, the people died for it, and on and on did the cycle continue.

The Riverlands had seen the most of the war, for a dragon appeared from the skies in early 129 AC. The blood wrym circled and landed on the Kingspyre Tower with a screech that shook the castle grounds. 

The castellan, Ser Simon Strong, yielded it without the need of spilling blood to Prince Daemon Targaryen and he used it as a nearby base to carry his side’s attacks.

For the next few months, dragons and armies came and went through Harrenhal, your home for as long as you could remember. You had been fostered by the old man and uncle of Lyonel Strong, Ser Simon after the death of your mother, an unknown woman no one knew of. Not much was known about your father too: noble or baseborn too, there was one thing for certain, your looks were undeniably Strong.

The first men's blood was strong in your veins: from the curls that reached the small of your waist, black as a raven’s wing, to your eyes, brown as chestnuts. Squires and maids whispered within the walls of Harrenhal, murmuring of your potential parentage. One of the many kin of House Strong, many whispered it had been Harwin “Breakbones”, the man who fathered Princess Rhaenyra’s children with her first husband, Laenor Velaryon. 

Others whispered it had been the castellan himself, Ser Simon, who took pity on his natural daughter, taking her in as a handmaiden. Some even mocked it had been Larys, Harwin’s brother and the Master of Whispers for Aegon’s small council, but those also mocked that spoke that it would’ve been impossible for him to even father children.

Harrenhal was a ruined castle: those who resided in its walls spoke of ghosts, deathly and dreadful, cursing those who was the owner. It was no surprise to you when you had heard of the rumours: of Lyonel and Harwin’s deaths and those that came before.

“Have you heard?” You had been kneeling by the fireplace when your closest friend, Perra came running through into the main apartment, a letter screwed in her hand.

“If you’ve come to tell me this bloody war is not over, I’m not interested.” You chided, wiping away the ash from your calloused hands against your apron. 

Perra was from House Grey, a knightly house sworn to House Tully. Brown-haired and long-faced and a girl of ten-and-seven, she was as skinny as a stick and small as one too. Her uncle, Ser Garibald had sworn to the Blacks from the beginning of the conflict and it was without a doubt that Perra agreed.

She grinned toothily, shoving the letter in your face, assuming you were literate. “You will be most pleased to read what just arrived.” As you unravelled the scroll, your eyes darting over the words you were reading. “My uncle brings news. The Queen has taken over King’s Landing. Aegon has not been seen nor his children. The Queen Helaena and Dowager Alicent have been captured.” 

“The Greens will not be most pleased to have their Queen returning to claim her father’s throne.” You rejected the letter quickly, handing it back over to Perra.

“This is good news, Y/N. The war will soon be over. Stark bannermen march down, so too will the Arryns.”

It didn’t seem possible that the wounded usurper king was missing but not much was known of his remaining brothers. Daeron remained at large a threat with his dragon, Tessarion, but what about the one-eyed brother, Aemond?

“You forget one thing, Perra. The King may be missing, but he has two other brothers, Aemond and Daeron. And they have dragons too. What would we do with them? Or where could they be?” 

“They fight elsewhere.” Perra was too naïve to know such a thing, the excitement and positivity were good to hear of, but you doubted the Greens would leave the capital open so easily. “Vhagar has not been seen with her rider for days.”

Certainly, they will be looking for revenge. You dreaded. 

Your conversation was broken when the low, dreadful sound came as a response of caution.

A long, blow of a horn was sounded in the courtyard, and the rush of footsteps and shouts erupted as vast as the sound of battle. Steel and shields could be heard being collected and as Perra rushed to the window to look out, she shouted. “A dragon comes! The Rogue Prince without a doubt.”

How you wish it had been.

The shadow of this dragon was much too large to belong to the blood wrym, looming over the entirety of Harrenhal like dusk. It appeared as if it was an apparition, and fears of what happened a century ago from the first Aegon could happen again.

It had not been Daemon that had arrived, but rather a one-eyed Prince who landed in the courtyard.

The ground shook when the old beast landed, mighty and worn from a thousand battles. The she-dragon growled, hissed and spat as she stared down at those who had gathered arms in protecting the base.

From her saddle, Aemond climbed down, appearing in gleaming armour of black and gold, adorning a helm of similar colours and a long dark plume. He was not mistaken for another Targaryen, for when the banners of a gold dragon on green cloth began to be marched through, you realised the war had not been over just yet.

You and Perra ran as fast as you could, gathering behind the stalls, and observing the entire ordeal go down. 

From this close, you saw the Prince, and despite missing an eye, you couldn’t help but marvel at how otherworldly and comely he was from afar. Targaryen women were blessed with the rare beauty of Old Valyria, and so too were the men.

Aemond stood mighty in front of his dragon, and beside him, the new Hand, Ser Criston Cole, aged and haggard and not so knightly as the stories spoke of him. War and hatred had aged him horribly, and he stood with a sour face, adorning the golden armour of the Kingsguard and pin of the Hand.

“Which Strong rules this castle?” Aemond spoke aloud to the crowd that had gathered and when no one spoke or came quick enough, Vhagar hissed impatiently.

It didn’t take long for a voice to be heard, emerging the old man who presumably shared your blood. “Aye, I am.”

Aemond responded coolly towards him, “Ser Simon, I assume? Can you recall to me, Ser, which Master of Whispers sits at my brother’s council?”

“My grand-nephew, Larys, my Prince.”

“And you agree that you share the familiar ties to Strong blood?”

“Aye, my Prince.”

His seeing eye was wide with rage, mouth twisted when he spoke in unwavering patience. “Then pray tell, why have you yielded the castle to my uncle, and kept it as a base for the forces of his whore of a wife and pretender Queen?”

Ser Simon did not yield under the heavy gaze of the Prince, nor with the hot breath of the dragon eyeing him down. He had no hesitation when he stared death in the face, and he must’ve known that he would die this day. 

Perhaps in the jaws of a dragon. You thought.

Simon spoke calmly. “Prince Daemon took the castle without spilling blood. I am, without a doubt, loyal to my Queen.”

Aemond tutted, his purple eye glaring in rage, though he remained calm. “You waited daily for a dragon to return and now, one does. Do you yield your castle to King Aegon, Second of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm?”

“Your brother – that cunt of a man – you wish for me to yield my castle to him?”

Aemond was to speak before Criston Cole stalked towards him, ready to unsheathe his sword. “Not yet, Cole.”

The Hand did not answer as he slowly stepped away from Simon, glaring silently. “Yes, my Prince.”

“I will not ask again, Ser. Answer truthfully and you will be spared alongside your kin. My dragon will not burn your walls the same way it did at the hands of my ancestor a century ago. Do. You. Yield?”

“I would never accept the words from a kinslayer.”

Kinslayer. The word was wrought with dread from the simple term, and it seemed to both spook and bring Aemond’s temper to rise. Or neither. Murdering his nephew with his dragon, chasing them along the clouds only for them to meet a death falling into the sea.

Aemond nodded to the honest words, and it took you everything not to grab Perra and flee through the castle gates. You knew that the Green’s forces stood just outside to chase any Black loyalists down. 

Or even have Vhagar have a meal if she’s hungry. You shivered. Instead, you stood still, frozen in terror of what would happen if you were spotted.

The next words to come from Aemond’s mouth were wrought with venom.

“Cole. Bring me my sword.” 

Men of Aemond’s forces grabbed for Simon, kicking and knocking him to his knees, holding him by the back of his burly arms. The Hand did not say a word, silently moving like a shadow before bringing forth what the Prince had wanted. There were cries in the crowd, presumably from those who were close kin to Simon. 

A sword flashed bright silver when it was unsheathed from the Prince, as he stalked his way towards the knelt man. 

“Speak now or forever hold your silence, old man,” Aemond asked, his mouth thin and twisted, holding the blade in between both hands. “Do you have any final words?” 

“Gods be good to you and your ilk, kinslayer,” Simon spoke with as much pride as his “The Black Queen will come for your head and every Green who chases for her throne.”

Aemond did not flinch when he gave the man a worthy death, swinging the sword with might that it took his head clean off, thudding softly into the soft mud. Shouts and protests were heard in response, but they were deafened by the sound of Vhagar roaring.

You watched as the resigned Aemond brushed off some blood and its matter from the blade with a harsh flick. You could tell in his eye that it was something he shouldn’t have done, but what he had to do next was the next honourable thing:

His voice was laced with heaviness as he announced to his men, “Bring every boy, squire and baseborn of Strong blood to meet my steel.”

You grabbed Perra by the hand, fleeing back the way you came through, down the vanquished halls that had melted away like a thousand candles. Screams from others were heard around you as you hid, but to no use, the castle was surrounded by not only men but an ancient dragon that could burn it all down.

It felt as if no time had passed at all, before Perra was grabbed and thrown into the arms, screaming for you as she was led out the castle. “Perra!” You, however, found yourself running after her, colliding into the back of a heavily-armed bannerman, decorated in the green sigil of a dragon. 

“No! Unhand me!” You screamed and hissed as you were dragged the opposite way from your friend, away from the sight of freedom and back towards the courtyard.

Aemond was facing his dragon when you came back to meet him up close, and you realise even despite the way he scowled as he looked you up and down, that he was still comely. You were thrown to your knees, your hands bracing your stumble as they were coated in the mud and blood that decorated the yard.

Aemond eyed you scrutinisingly as if assessing what was wrong with you and what he had to do to be rid of you. After all, you did have Strong blood in you, but he didn’t know that.

“Who are you, girl?” He drawled, but his tone was laced with taunting you.

You dared not to meet his dismal stare, instead, watching the blood-soaked and muddied ground or his muddied boots. “Y/N. Y/N Rivers.” You spoke earnestly.

“A bastard,” Criston Cole hissed, momentarily holding his sword’s hilt to draw it, “would you wish for me to bring forth her head, my Prince? Or she could be fed to Vhagar.”

“No,” Aemond dismissed quickly, too quickly. He was staring at her distantly, and it was difficult to see what he was thinking. His seeing eye was bright and staring down at her with disgust and fascination for her and those of House Strong blood. “No, she will not be fed to my dragon. She is much too reliable. Bring her warm clothes, Cole. I will have better use for her.”

“Yes, my Prince.” Cole relaxed as he grabbed you by the back of your arm, dragging you away from the yard, away from the one-eyed monster and his loyal beast. 

You wished for your feet to stop yourself from being dragged away, to accept the headsman’s sword and to have your head beside those you were fostered by.

You looked back in horror, watching as the courtyard grew smaller and smaller, hearing the foreign, unknown words dragonrider spoke to their bonded dragon, the bright flame came from her open jaws, lighting up the pile of corpses you did not stand too close to a second ago.

[voidwritesstuff]

New Beginings In The Golden Hour

Cw:angst,strife has an anxiety attack.

Summary:Death must deal with the consequences of his millennia long awful behavior.

>Hurt/Comfort girlies.

>Part 2 of "Final Moments in the blue hour"

A/N: @darkdemeter hey Deeeem look what I've got. Also, I wrote the lil lullaby and enchantment depicted in the fic (I love making stuff rhyme)

--I'm sorry

The words still didn't registre in Strife's mind. He pulled from the hug a little startled,eyes widening as he turns to Fury for any sort of confirmation that she's just as confused as he is.

But his sister doesn't meet his gaze. She hangs her head low with a reverence for the eldest that is so unlike her. He began to feel something prickle at the back of his head. Something just didnt feel right.

Death didnt fight him when the hug was broken, he simply pressed his face to the hair of the female nephilim. Then the eldest cleared his throat and pulled back,turning to meet Strife's eyes.

--Alright...thats New-- The gunslinger didnt have his characteristical bite to his witt. He coughs a little and his eyes struggle to meet his brother's. -- we should go uh...find War.

Fury nodded,wiping what seems to be tears from the corner of her eyes. She Gave the reaper a look,a bit complicit And like they're having an unspoken conversation.

Yep,hes defenetly was missing something.

--I..I think I know where to find him-- The she-horseman said, nodding towards the spire that ominously hovers in the Sky as a dark and reddened shaped of shattered evil.

--Thats...defenetly a good start-- The gunslinger breathed out-- May! -- the earth shook, kicking up like a jittery whirlwind that sucks in debrie and dust around.

Followed by the spectral neigh of the mare that brings with her a show of beautiful dancing purple flames that pulls the Grass in a well of gravity. The air grows thick with tension that would bring the heart of any non-rider to their throat, making them feel an adrenaline so pure that they would simply become a trembling,feral mess.

As she jumps from the very boughs of the earth,Mayhem the white horse of frenzy tears through the fabric of reality. She runs past her rider and slowly lowers her speed so she can safely trot Back to her master's side.

Mayhem shakes her snout,inspecting Death with an odd tilt of her head as she blinks slowly at the pale rider with confusion. But she doesnt linger, she then turns to Fury and lets out a pitiful neigh.

Within her, Fury feels Rampage squirm at the sadness of his kin. The she-horseman reaches to pat the snout of Mayhem and Gently shooshes her-- He's still too weak to ride. But he Will be fine-- she said softly,the mare closing her eyes and pressing her ears flat to her head.

--He'll be fine-- strife tried not to linger his gaze on the face of the eldest. Its been so long since his actual features could be seen, up until now his face was but a fuzzy memory from childhood. -- C'mon up, Fury. I'll lend you my ride.

With ease he hops on Mayhem's saddle, patting the neck of the mare as a brief comfort. He then offers his hand to his sister,who takes it and gets on behind him.

Strife chuckled to himself and said--Hey whens the last time I gave you a ride? Werent you like...ten? I piggyback carried you to the kitchen didnt I?

--You did-- Fury mused,sniffing Back some of the emotions that still clung to her eyes and soul-- If I recall correctly,I called you squire.

The gunslinger scoffed-- wouldnt be the first time-- he half joked-- Wish I still had my Abyssal armor though,thats such a perfect set up for a knight joke.

With a barked out laugh,the she-Horseman says-- Hm,you've always been a knight to me. I dont see why you would hold back a joke,so unlike you.

Strife eyed Death who watched on with something akin to amusement and subsided endearment. He needs to re-learn how to read him. But still,his unhidden gaze tempers his wit and he just shrugs-- Ah,forget it. The moments passed anyway.

Faintly both hear the eldest snicker before whistling lowly. A sound so puposely horrible that it sets their teeth on edge, even as quiet as it was it remains shrill And withered like a screech from a mournful banshee.

Both wondered what it would happen if he whistled at the top of his lungs.

Yet their thoughts are cut short as theres a loud espectral neigh, behind the pale rider a Mass of blue flames emanates as Despair makes himself known. His Fire Withers the Grass in its path,sucking the life out of them and leaving the vegetation riddled with something akin to frostbite.

Unforgiving winter in his cold flames, he emanates from the ground,bringing with him the smell of sweet Decay yet so glacier cold that it burns the breath of the two younger nephilim.

Despair's hoove pads at the ground and nuzzles the chest of his rider with surrender and relief. Death Gently pats the stallion's head and hops on.

--Shall we?--The eldest asked.

Strife nodded and clicked his tongue at his Mare who begins to trot towards the spire beyond. Silence settles, yet it doesnt dampen the odd tangle of secrets and unspoken information in the air- the gunslinger is defenetly missing something.

Whatever it is, its eating at him already. First, the hug. Whatever the hell has gotten into the eldest?. His mask is gone, that stupid piece of bone is gone and now the white rider can stare with dread and fear at the face of the eldest. Its been so long, he cant reconcile the sweet memories of his brother's face to the bitter ones that were carried by the mask thats Now seemingly lost somewhere.

Neither of the three comment on the lack of spoken word, clearly each of their individual journeys has taken a toll on them. Who gets to speak first? Whats the most important thing to be said? Theres no way to decide,no way to gauge who has had it worst.

Yet if the gunslinger had to guess, Death would be the one to talk first. There has always been an air of mystery to the reaper in his cold detachment, but now he feels more like a myth than a Man.

A sigh leaves strife,louder than he intended to. He flinches as the attention is now on him.

--Something on your mind,Brother?--Death asked,seeing his Real lips say those words makes the white rider freak out internally.

His brother,his guide and lighthouse. The reaper,kinslayer and butcher with his cold,hard shoulder and dismissive attitute. The dichotomy was going to kill him.

--Nuthin' that Will help us-- he said,shrugging-- Y'know me,always thinkin' about silly shit.

The eldest Snickers with genuine warmth,hes conciously slipping up and it only confused the gunslinger further-- While it is true that you're known for your lack of sense,you never hesitated to share. Whats the difference does it make now?

Strife tried so hard to get angry at his brother,before it came so naturally to him but now...he had to conciously find a reason to get angry-- Jus' forget it,okay?-- his voice sounded filled with ire, but its all hollow. Theres no Real intent to bite,theres barely any intent to bark. -- I told you,nuthin' that Will help us.

Behind him,Fury stirrs. Hes so bad at hiding his turbulence from his siblings and specially Fury who knows what to look for. Yet she doesnt say anything and simply pats his arm, telling him quietly to simmer down.

Death let the matter rest, and with yet another dreadful whistle he sent Dust to scan ahead. Were there still demons and angels in the barren earth? This world is nothing but overgrown ruin and forgotten civilizations sundered.

Its a miracle theres still birds to sing and chirp like they've always done. Filling the sunny day with life even if humanity was not there anymore,Wether by the hand of Demise or the saving of maker and she-horseman.

--I...met Angie and Gabrielle-- Fury added a few minutes into their ride-- You sung her our lullaby?

Strife tensed up,ready to feel the scrutinizing gaze of the eldest. What he gets instead is a smug,curious look that still doesnt ease his mind.

--Well uh...its always worked-- He excused, voice a little shaky-- I dont see the issue in it.

--theres none-- she admitted,a little amused at how on edge he was-- Just curious,brother.

--Had to put her to sleep somehow. She has more energy than War when he tried sugar for the first time-- Strife dismissed,trying to shift the attention from him. He doesnt want his vulnerability to be judged by Death's words like hes grown so used to.

Hes quite surprised the pale rider hasnt said anything yet.

--Oh by creator,dont remind me-- Fury said with disdain-- Didnt we knock him out with the Hilt of a maze?

Strife chuckled--We did! I still think that was overkill,though.

--It worked,didnt it?--his sister replied with a laugh to her tone-- He slept for a week afterwards.

--And thank god for that,I couldnt handle so much energy-- the gunslinger answered.

--So much for the spirit of eternal unrest. --She teased

--Ooookay!--He raised a finger-- Lissen' that was waaaay before we became horsemen. I wont let you make me responsible for a title I didnt even have back then!-- his voice cracks just a tiny bit-- And besides! Im the spirit of eternal unrest, not the spirit of eternal sugar rush!

The comment makes his sister burst into loud laughter. She throws her head back and holds her ribs. Something in Strife calms at the sound,always happy to make his sister laugh. Its such a beautiful sound.

--I wonder if he still has that same intolerance!--exclaimed the black rider.

Death snarled-- I am not dealing with that.

--Me neither-- strife agreed-- its your bull to wrangle.

Fury shrugged--My own personal show,then.

--Your funeral-- the gunslinger corrected under his breath. A sugar rushed,grown War sounds like the stuff of nightmares right about now.

--Last time he lost control he almost cleaved you in half-- Death prodded with unhidden amusement.

The black rider shrugged-- he already apologized for It. The past is the past

Strife Turned in utter confusion-- Excuse me? I know he didn' do it on purpose but d'you know how unhinged you sound sayin' you'll forgive a near decapitation?

Fury snickered-- Ive grown a sense of humor,brother. Get used to it. Or are you begining to lose yours?

--Oh fuck right off!--He chided,turning Back to face the road-- 'm just sayin' it sounds crazy.

--You've said crazier-- she bickered back, unaware of the fondness that held the gaze of the eldest rider.

Death has missed this so much. Hes almost inclined to snicker,but he didnt want to Interrupt this very amusing battle of Witts. Ah,hes only missing the popcorn.

The gunslinger scoffed with a bit of annoyance,feeling more pressed than a panini-- Yeah,like what?

Fury thought for a few seconds,trying to remember a concrete example. --When you were at Belials dam in hell. You told war "we need you just shy of raging uncontrollable chaos or you might lose another arm"

--I...fine. ill give you that one.

Death couldnt help himself and let out a few chuckles. He gains an odd look from his siblings and says-- You two truly havent changed. I still remember you two bickered like this when we got our horses.

The she-horseman narrowed her eyes at the reaper like a discontent cat-- Then you proceeded to jump into the raging stampede. You have no place to talk.

--Hm...perhaps-- Him? Admitting defeat?. Strife was going to lose his shit.

Yet the gunslinger doesnt comment on it, he allows the moment to pass and he looks down at the ground with confusion and grief. Hes been worrying, gruellingly so. And now he shows up,face uncovered and acting so..cheerful.

Death.Cheerful...those are two words he would never think of stringing together in one sentence. Until now, that is.

It eats at him, he recalls all his sleepless nights wondering if he would lose the eldest to his mourning. He doesnt feel strong enough to ask,hes grown so accustomed to the reaper's cutting Words that now he cant concede the idea of actually talking to him.

Hes paralyzed by fear. An instinct telling him he Will be mocked and dismissed like Many times before. He wonders what must have happened for him to change so suddenly. Did he even want to know?

And what was he missing with Fury and Death? Theres a certain sadness in her eyes yet relief when she stares at the eldest of their kin. Did she reach out to him like she did with him? What did they talk about?

The gunslinger horseman wished War was here with them. The youngest had a knack for observation and insight. With his cool mind he would be able to tell,hes sure of it.

Until the red rider showed up,he would have to live with the tension in the air. An unspoken issue that still needed to be tackled, an issue that made Strife linger his gaze on the pale rider.

Beside wanting to memorize his face in case that mask comes back on,he also wanted to see how much hes changed. Death never said anything if he noticed. And his firey gaze had mellowed out into a dancing flame like the one in a fireplace.

The reaper "mellowed out" . It really is the end times,isnt it?. At least so it felt to the second oldest horseman,he picked at the situation day in and day out.

He saw his brother act in a way hes never seen before...

No. Thats a lie. Hes seen this behavior before,in the pale rider's youth when he only upheld the title of brother.

What had his journey shown him?

And what was Fury not telling him?

Strife pondered all this as night began to settle. They were in the middle of a barren city,taking refuge within one of the broken down appartment buildings. Around the first floor for easy escape and a good vantage point.

He lays there on an old,probably moldy sofa that he doesnt fit in. His legs hang and rest unconfrotably against the old stone floor thats overgrown by greenery.

Beside him a small fireplace burnt,one that Fury had set up and was currently allowing a kettle to simmer. He figured that after a hundred Years of living with humanity,she had grown attached to their customs. And honestly, the Four had always a bit of a fondness for such drinks.

Yet his ears keenly listen to a hushed conversation that Death and Fury are having outside of this run down appartment.

--I..havent told him-- came the voice of the she-horseman-- I dont think he felt you...

Death sighed and he could hear the shake of his head-- no matter. I dont believe he Will take it well. Neither Will War.

--I didnt feel you either. Not until I reached out-- She sounded confused,mournful. Its such an odd thing to be witness to- shes usually headstrong and sure of herself.

--I dont believe the Council wouldve liked us finding out about those kinds of things. They must have meddled somehow.

--How dare they?--Theres such a primal anger to her growl-- not even the decency to let us know...

--It wouldve raised alarms,sister-- the reaper answered,patting her shoulder-- No matter now. -- then he made a brief pause--...are you alright?

Fury scoffed-- No. --she then sighed,sounding Like she was deinflating as she calmed down-- How do you want me to be? After everything...-- she trailed off-- the pain just never ends for us,does it?

Death let out a low breath-- by our hand,it Will. Nevertheless,sister, I Will not expect you to be your usual self. I dont believe neither of us four are of clear mind at this moment.

--You'll find us all changed,brother.

Theres no hesitation in the reaper's voice as he says-- changed or not,we're still four horsemen united. Still we remain kin. Perhaps thats the only thing that wont change.

Strife heard the clink of armor against armor,he guessed Death hugged Fury. Or the other way around- he couldnt really tell.

Then his siblings returned to their camping spot. The she-horseman tended to the tea and Death stood there with his arms crossed and looking at the gunslinger with an actual amused smile(small, but still there).

--I pity the state of your spinal column.-- he tapped his index finger against his bicep expectantly.

--Psht, its a social construct-- he half joked,hoping that his lack of enthusiasm doesnt slip through.

Its been like this since the begining,Strife is devoid of witt and bite. Hes never quiet,unless something is bothering Him. Like when he found that dagger in Mammon's hoard.

He would rather not think about It, hed has enough of a bitter taste in his mouth. He centers on the faint chittering of cicadas And grasshoppers that begin to sing to the night Sky that remains unchanged with the moon shining bright.

The gunslinger's gaze gets lost in the dancing Fire,trying to make sense of his feelings. He is relieved that Death is alright,hes been worrying for milennia. Theres a joke in the situation that the reaper didnt give any signs of life but he really isnt in the mood for humor right now.

He cant pretend nothing has changed,and still his stupid face stares back at him. The strong features and now kind eyes remind the white rider of the nicer memories with the eldest,he hates it.

Enough was enough and he wasnt ready to reconcile the image of the perfect,protecting brother to the merciless kinslayer. It reminds him that a lot of the pain hes felt after the massacre was thanks to the hands of Death.

Yet anger cant seem to get a grasp on him,a part of him does understand that neither were the same after the siege of Eden. But why was he so cruel? So needlessly cutting.

No,he cant come back to play house without an apology.

Will he even get an apology?

--Strife...--Comes the firm voice of Fury as she hands him a Cup.

--Wha..?--He muttered,looking up to see the mug with steaming tea. He sighs and sits up,taking the cup in his hands and realizing soon he recognizes the craftmanship-- these are Gabrielles...

--Yes. She let me take them with me--The female nephilim answered-- Angie was specially happy to lend them after I told her i'd be seeing Jones too.

The white rider looked impressed-- Wait,does she know...?

--I had to tell her eventually-- Fury noted how...coy he looked. It was an adorable sight-- she really likes you.

Strife felt his face redden. Death didnt need to know about all this.

--Who is this Angie you speak of?--smug,smug old bag of bones and dust...

Fury scoffed and sent a malicious look to the second eldest who sinks against the couch and begins to dissociate as his face burns with shame. He is never living this down.

Death looks amused, wondering If some of his older brother habits rubbed off on the second eldest. He chuckled and said-- I see the resemblance with War...or is it William?

The gunslinger sets the mug on his lap and puts his hands on the eye part of his mask. He sighs loudly and says-- fury...I hate you...so much...

A laugh is the answer he gets-- Its adorable, brother--Fury takes a sip of her tea,just about to combust from how funny the image of his brother being flustered is. --She only says good things about you.

Death chuckled lowly,looking at his brother-- You've got a fan,strife. -- he teased.

Strife pointed at his eldest and said-- You. Zip. It.

The sound that comes Next stuns both of the younger riders. Its a sound that they've seldomed, something that they might have heard in a dream or a childhood memory- the origin is uncertain, which only floors them further.

From deep within the pale rider's gut, reverberating against his narrow diaphragma and his sinewy throat...Death laughs quite loudly and bares a fanged smile at his younger sibling.

Both siblings exchange a look of...surprise? Horror? Neither know but Fury just joins in the laughter out of either sheer desbelief or unbridaled joy. She throws her head back,her laughter growing a little deeper and scratching her throat at the shift in position of her traquea.

Yet Strife's hands begin to shake,his breath is uneven and his world began to swirl. He hurriedly sets down the cup and all but runs out of the appartment in a huff.

His eyes Sting with tears ,and he has to go to the floor underneath their camping spot and find a dark corner to curl into himself. His helmet gets torn off and he begins to heave in his breath.

Light does his chest begin to feel,pressure lowering and his eyes Rolling back into his head, yet he still cries. His whole body shakes like an unstable earthquake,and his throat feels like its scratched by a feral,scared animal trying to get out.

Water streaks down his cheeks and chiseled jaw, his lightly scarred lips quivering and his nostrills flare with each breath that burns his lungs as he cries.

The disconnect between both faces of his brother was breaking his mind in two. How could the same brother that was his lighthouse be the responsible for his pain all those milennia back?.

He cries, realizing now that his child self is begining to catch up to all the trauma and pain that Death has caused. His whole world is about to just fall and shatter as conciousness wavers between abandoning Him and staying.

Memories begin to mix,old and New,good and bad. His brother,the kinslayer,his role model,the butcher. Its all so,so much.

Strife put his hands on his face,clawing at his scalp to try and ground himself. He cries and tries to Keep silent and yet the beast within him,that wounded Child,wants nothing more than to scream and growl.

He spent the night Cooped up in that dark corner crying. Hes seldomed his siblings and the cup of tea that his sister has so kindly brewed for him.

Meanwhile at their camp,Fury begins to settle and see that her brother is not there. She tilts her head and asks-- was he..that angry?

Death narrows his eyes at the spilt cup of tea on the sofa and sighs-- not..angry. -- he raised a hand as his sister tried to stand up-- leave him alone. I dont think its wise to go out looking for him...you know how unstable his emotions are

Fury huffed,sitting down-- I just...I dont understand what is up with him.

The eldest rubbed his face with exhaustion. He underestimated how closed off Strife would be--I dont think he can move on,nor do I blame him. Ive been...awful,to say the least-- he gave his sister a reassuring look-- we'll find him in the morning. Neither of us can handle this right now.

With a sad nodd,the she-horseman went to a quiet corner herself and hoped that her gun-slinging sibling didnt do anything stupid. Death simply stared at the flame,knowing theres a lot of hard work ahead of him. And he knows hes going to hate it,mainly because he Will have to actually show emotions.

But he wanted that second chance and he got it,so he better do good on his word.

He did tell his sister to not meddle,but he does want to make sure that Strife is okay. Dust seems to pick up on this because the rebel corvid flies down to the hiding spot.

The gunslinger tries to Gently shove the bird back,but the crow is quite insistent and cuddles on the horseman's shoulder. He sighs and relents, at least he has this anchor.

Morning came soon.And when Strife appeared outside already on mayhem, Fury went to hop on the Mare and lean on her brother reassuringly. A brief touch but a show that she had worried.

He shook his head dismissively--Im fine.

--Youre not-- she said lowly,decisively and firmly. But she doesnt pry further.

Death sees his brother avoid his gaze, and this time he doesnt whistle to call for his steed. Simply he does a hand gesture and hops on the saddle quickly, sending Dust ahead to scout.

Yet before he obeys the commands of his master, the corvid settles on the white rider's shoulder and begins to preen off a few hairs with gentle care.

Strife snorts loudly and doesnt shrug off the bird. Hes also glad that his eldest of kin doesnt comment on it, Fury does though.

--thats how he shows he cares-- she said lowly for her saddle companion to hear.

--He can come and talk to me like an adult--The gunslinger ignored the hypocrisi in his statement. He could go and talk to him too.

After that,he Gently kicks the side of his steed and both stallions begin to ride forward to that accursed spire looming over earth.

This unrest he feels lingers for days. Strife wasnt sure what he was feeling, was it relief? Horror? Fear?. He didnt know what his emotions were doing,he was scared shitless and for the first time in his life he is unable to put his brother on a place that feels right.

First he could say that he admired and loved his brother,then that he couldnt stand him and yet still he worried. Now he didnt even know if he should talk to him,or talk back.

--Dust has seen some tracks that look like Ruins-- Commented Death,trying to prod his brother to talk-- Do either of you know what happened to War?

--He was casted to the abyss--Fury seemed to know,strife doesnt even react. He had his ways of knowing but still the idea of his baby sibling suffering such fate stabbed his heart.

Not that he would let it show.

--Only that?-- Asked the eldest,disturbed at how his once witty brother now seems lost with his gaze on the floor. Hes almost allowing Mayhem to set the path and route,at least the mare does try to follow along with their plan.

--Sadly,yes. I could try and reach out again-- the sister proposed-- Easier to find him if we just ask...

Death began to see the golden hour set in. He nodds and says-- We'll find a place for you to safely reach out to War. -- he then tried to Gently nudge the calf of his brother with his foot. Emphasis on the gentle part-- Is that okay with you,Strife?

The gunslinger seemed to blink out of his stupor. Unaware of the pained look of his sister behind him,what a horrible state to see him in.-- huh?wha- Sure. Whatever-- He murmured,breathing sharply and trying to save face.

Death flinched a little and drifted his gaze to the dark spot that was dust against the Pink and purple Sky. The colors swirl together and like melted honey they mingle. Its been beautiful day so far.

As planned they find a safe enough spot. An old greenhouse thats been largely overgrown by now. And near a park with a recornizable enough statue, woman with a fruit basket.

They hope the easily recognizable landmark helps the youngest rider to find their camp spot.

Fury goes to a quiet spot but as she passed the eldest she gripped his forearm hard,strong enough to dig her taloned gauntlets on the metal armor of her sibling.

--talk. To. Him. Now. -- she growled- no,demanded. -- I wont spend one more day with him like this.-- her hair flares a bright yellow,he recognizes the power of the Fire hollow. And he sees a few glimmers of purple in her hair as the force hollow allows her to sink her nails into his armor further only to prove and solidify her Point.

With a silent sigh he nodded and felt himself shoved a little with anger.

He goes to find his brother who stands before an overgrown pond. Hes looking down at his own reflection,the helmet Next to his pistols a few meters back. The golden hour makes his spiky hair look like a jagged eclipse with a ring of Orange lines.

Silent steps approach the gunslinger and he then says--Strife...we must talk.

--What is there to talk about?-- His brother answered,voice flat.

--The matter of why Ive been behaving the way that Ive been-- he stands beside his brother,looking at the face of his younger of kin. Hes also missed being able to see his face.

Perhaps without their masks,they can finally talk.

--I need you to understand that what I did, I did for War-- He began, his hands tightening into fists and then relaxing like hes a jittery cat. -- I visited the crowfather, and fought him. The amulet shattered and embedded itself in me.-- the recalling of those memories isnt pleaseant,but he must Keep going-- to resurrect humanity, to erase the crime,I had to make a sacrifice. I...threw myself into the well of souls. To exchange the nephilim for humanity.

--...so you died?-- his voice carries no life,no witt,no snark,no rebellious undernote or teasing remark.

--yes--death tries to be soft in the way he speaks,he recalls the way he used to Lower his voice and quieten his pronounciation. With a bit of ease,he slips into his old role as brother-- and before I did,I remembered our childhood. And I realize now that i...-- he hisses out a sigh-- Ive done Many things wrong..

He sees strife blink back into conciousness-- Yeah?

Okay, hes defenetly not hearing the end of this. Ever. But he is no stranger to making sacrifices for his siblings.

--Indeed,and I have hurt you all in ways my younger self would be horrified to know about. -- he sighed loudly and put a hand on his sibling's shoulder--And for all the titles ive beared,the only one I cared for, the only one I havent been able to uphold has been the title of Brother. I....am sorry. For all the pain I've put you through.

Strife Turned to face his brother. Expression confused and eyes widened to the point they might pop out of their sockets.

--You...are such an asshole!--he chided.

Death snickered and nodded--Indeed. Ive..been nothing short of awful. But I wish not to lose another brother,and yet another part of my soul.

The gunslinger snorted.Begining to cry and having to bite back a fanged grin that ultimately,hes unable to restrain. His tears look like Fire in the golden hour glow,and his eldest of kin Gently wipes them away.

--Would you throw yourself into a well for me?--He asked,showing a bit of his humor.

With a snicker,the reaper says-- of course -- he keeps wiping away the tears-- remember when you came back home late?

--You...wiped off the dirt on ma face--Strife recalled,feeling himself slowly return to his usual self. Thats all he needed to hear-- n tended to my wounds.

--I never felt...--He struggled to hold the eye contact,but managed to do so if only because he knows the gunslinger Will never forgive him if he chickened out now.

--C'mon,asshole,spit it out.

--So...scared of losing you-- he finally finished,feeling a bit of annoyance at the disrespectful remark. But he was in no spot to be picky-- The same way I...made sure we all returned from Eden. And having...died, showed me a lot of things.

A scoff left the white rider,he nodded along and his grin never wavered-- was that so hard?

Death snorted and shook his head-- you absolute blight...-- he said with fondness.

--Hey! You deserve it.

--I do.--Strife roughly hit the side of his brother and snickered at how he flinches.--i bear my heart to you and thats how im repaid?--The reaper teased.

--Now you know how I feel.

--Fair enough

Both stand there in the overgrown garden,a Tiny oasis in this abandoned world. Reminds them both of the forests they would train in,the places they would forage. Returning to their old selves perhaps wasnt so bad.

In the golden hour,Death finally can take in the face of his brother. He missed seeing it, its good to know neither have changed much in appereance.

The eldest sighed loudly and pulled his brother for a tight hug. And this time,Strife didnt fight back and melted into his brother's embrace. The eldest begins to sing a lullaby in nephilim tongue.

Hes never forgotten the words either.

--the sun's gone to rest. The moon above begins to show.

In the clouds lay your head,and hold tight to your Cowl.

And if the cold comes to bite you,nuzzle close to my heart right beside you.

Strife picked up where his brother left off-- night sweet night,of slumber and repair.

Pair with your loved one,as the shadows lumber again.

Safe against my ribs,holding you close to my heart.

And youll find nightmares to be scarce.

When morning comes,and the sun shines bright.

Open the door and play, ever spry.

The light of the sun begins to set,the hug tightens and neither feel the need to pull away. Not anymore.

Meanwhile,Fury sits on the inner part of the greenhouse. The Windows are overgrown and the whole room is dark and its the perfect place for her to zone out and reach for her brother. She worries still that Death Will mess this up,but theres little she can do to fix her eldest's problems.

Its not her responsability to fix it.

She does worry, she finds herself doing that a lot these days. And by now shes just bitten the bullet that she has a tender heart, and always had It.

With a shake of her head she sits on the mossy Grass and puts her hands on her knees as she is currently crosslegged. She has been practicing meditation with the humans,and shes found a few magical uses for it.

A deep breath fills her air with lungs finding the thread that connects the four that they are. A bond that felt like running horses,burning flames, coldest bite, frenzied,bloody and unmoving. But kind,growing and healing.

Its a hectic Line to walk,but Fury has grown accostumed to it and knows where to step now. She holds her breath,hearing the rustle of the wind that moves the vegetation around her.

Lowly,she sings a little lullaby of her own. Like the Cantrip of a spell to focus on a certain horseman,needing not of memories but rather calling to their very Essence.

Shes perfected it along the past months where her yearning for her family has grown exponentially since shes last reached out. she'd never admit to how tailored each verse became,and she would never admit she would read what human poetry was scavenged And saved before creating New Haven as inspiration for rhyme And reason.

Clearing her throat, she allows the words to flow. The Fire hollow ignites and spreads her warmth to the Flora,its Like the magic travels across the mycelium networks. Nature in itself carried an arcane connection like few things in life.

As Death had told her, Life was quite entwined with the ending of all things. Just like she was forever tangled in the thread of her brothers.

--Beyond the smoke,beyond the brimstone.

Hulking does your form become.

Pale red in the thin storm.

Of Fire and desolation thrown. --she can see her brother walking Among an Ashen field,perhaps it was during the battle of eden or one of their countless missions.-- I becon you red rider.

I becon you,my Kin.

My red cladded brother.

Sweet as you've always been.

She breathes out,sending the call out into the world. She finds It grip the mind and attention of War and she finds herself glowing like flame,still using her hollow power. She thought the Fire would help to center her magic, she knew flame was tangled deep within the red rider.

He stands there confused,magic has always escaped him-- sister...hello?

Around them is An ashen battlefield with dark clouds and faint Fire crackling over a storm that threatens to break anytime soon. Corpses around them are blurry,overlapping in details like mixed memories.

The air smells of ash,decay and smoke. Neither seemed to mind,the smell just a part of their lives by now.

--Dont sound so surprised-- She laughed,crossing her arms and tapping her index finger on her bicep. Little thing she got from Death.

--Your magic escapes me-- he chided,a little embarassed at sounding so caught off guard-- But its good to see you. You heeded my call?.

--Always...-- she said softly with a fond smile-- We are in a greenhouse. I Belive we're near an old plaza,grand. Broken statue of a woman with a basket of fruits.

War remained silent,the cogs clearly turning in his head as he slowly finds the place and the route to get there. --I believe I know the place. Shant take long,a days ride away.

--Dont overwork your horse,Will you brother?--she asked teasingly.

The youngest rider laughed--Will try not to-- He snickered and then returned to his serious demeanor. A little soft,and concerned-- How is Rampage faring?

Fury's smile Turned silken and gentle-- He's...reccuperating well. I feel him grow stronger every day.

--Perseverent and enduring. Much like you, sister.

She giggled-- Thank you,brother. How is Ruin?

--Hes doing well, the time with the demons still haunt his mind. But not as often,hes returning to his self.

--Good to hear--Fury Turned behind her,hearing a soft windchime that ends with the Roaring of a flame-- Ill dissapear soon. Come find us.

War nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to the forehead of his sister's apparition before both are pulled from this pocket dimention back to their bodies.

Fury does laugh at the gentle gesture,endeared at the unlikely softness of War. She stretches and takes a few minutes to shake off the strain this spell usually caused,and to give her brothers more time to reconcile.

She lingers for ten more minutes before standing up and walking to the garden. She finds the brothers hugging and just pulling back when she fully reaches the entrance to the place they are in.

Death pats the shoulder of his sibling,purpousely tripping Him into the pond,its easily 6 foot deep. He then turns to Fury,unbothered-- well?

--He'll be here tomorrow night,probably-- She answered-- if he takes longer,Its my fault. I dont want Ruin to be overworked.

--Good enough-- he nodded approvingly,crossing his arms over his chest and Gently tapping his index finger on his bicep--You seem tir-- his sentence is cut short when Strife yanks him by the back of his crusty,dusty,stinky purple cowl into the pond.

The pale rider stumbles into the cool water,letting out a curse in nephilim tongue and goes to fight his brother in the water. His black hair sticks to his face and he bites on It a little in the rustle And toussle of the fight.

And to add insult to injury,Fury calls upon her stasis hollow and throws a ball of freezing ice into the makeshift water feature. It freezes them in spot and she laughs loudly as shes deathglared by her kin.

--You two are like dogs-- she justified with no convincing tone that what she did was fair. She walks past them,sticks her tongue out and goes to find a patch of beautiful orchids to gaze at and take just a few blooms for herself. She freezes a few of the seeds and flowers,setting them in her bag for humanity when she eventually returns.

And they stay the night,there. The brothers do break from their icy Bonds and chase after their shit stirrer sister. For the first time in milennia,they feel like children again in their little chasing game and harmless sparring.

It ends with Fury in the pond,as Strife laughs loudly and Death watches on in smug content.

-♡-

The day waiting for War is spent in quiet storytelling. Drinking tea, and finally telling eachother about their journeys across realms and even...Time.

--Of course you get time jumping shit!--Strife chided,thoroughly offended. His voice cracks and he drinks what has to be his third cup of tea.

--Jealous much,brother?-- Death asked,nursing his fourth cup of tea as the afternoon settles above them. They rest in the cool shadow of the overgrown,dark greenhouse.

--Piss off!-- He chided again, pointing accusatorily at him-- gimme! Hand it the fuck over!

--In your wildest dreams,brother-- the eldest answered,smug as always and his face not hiding the utter contentment because of his kin's dismay.

--And you get hollows?!--He asked to fury. Shes also not exempt from his jealousy-- C'mon!!! Its not fair.

The she horseman snickered,seeing his brother In the lowlight of their campfire reminds her of the times they would spend the nights in candelight and tell eachother stories back when both were young.

--You mustve gotten something fun,im sure-- his sister said.

Strife sniffed, looking at the Fire and losing his train of thought in the process-- Last cool thing I got was the Void Bomb,An Aether Spark too. But I left it hidden. That power is not good in my hands

Death raised a brow-- And then you complain about having nothing...fun.

--If the creator ever decides t'send me on a fun lil' adventure of my own through time n' space ill let you know-- He snickered,a joke only to himself. He turns to something the others cannot see,and winks.

Fury rolled her milky white eyes and smacks her brother out of his otherworldly stupor-- idiot...--She bit with a smile--I'm telling you right Now this tea had nothing special.

--Y'know I do have one cool gift but I wont tell you-- He snickered,setting the empty cup on the Grass and he laying down-- 'nyway. Shut up. 'M takin' a nap.

He puts his helmet over his eyes like an ill-feeting cowboy hat and uses his arms as pillows. His back pressed against the soft moss.

The she-Horseman checked his cup just for good measure and shrugged at her brother who does a dismissive hand gesture. They resume their conversation

in a low tone as to not disturb Strife who got really bitchy if hes interrupted in his rest.

-♡-

When night comes,they Hear the clobbering of heavy hooves and meet their hooded brother out on the street. War seems a bit on edge,wondering how much do his siblings know. And if they believe him a traitor.

No animosity has been detected in his brief interactions with Fury though, which eases his nerves.

--Brothers...sister--He called out,not hopping off of Ruin just yet-- Theres much to talk about.

As if able to sense his worry,Strife says-- The council sucks ass. Whats New? --He has his helmet tucked between his forearm and rib. He smiles a fanged grin and adds-- Death here threw himself into a well of souls for you and to bring back humanity. Fury convinced Ulthane to help you and I never doubted you. -- he scoffed-- you? Breaking the rules? Pluh-ease.

War sighed with relief,hopping down from his horse. He pats the stallion's neck and dismisses the equine steed back to rest in his pocket dimention.

Death becons his brother closer and Gently dusts off his shoulder pauldron. A habit hes always carried,always a mother hen.--We'll talk in the morning-- the eldest decided,giving a complicit look to the other two siblings.--I believe we all had enoug bad news for a lifetime.

In their heads they get the faintest hint of an idea. And so they bring their sibling within the green house,to the pond that in hindsight it really is 6 foot deep, he'll fit just fine. And with their strength combined (and a bit of Force Hollow shenanigans) they throw their behemoth of a brother into the water.

He screeches at the sudden coolness before he looks at the three with the eyes of a kicked,betrayed puppy. His white eyes just widen and his lips part,and then prank clicks instantly. Their laughter wont last long.

And thats how they know they have messed up,as his eyes fill with determination.

War yanks his siblings by grabbing the three in a waist hug and throwing them into the pond with him. Laughing along at their dismay

The night is filled with the joyful laughter of the horsemen. And when theyre done horsing around, they all huddle in the darkened interior of the greenhouse and sit around the Fire with warm tea and content looks in their faces.

Death keeps watch for the night as his siblings rest with their weapons nearby. He sighs and with a smile In his face he feels like hes finally fulfilling his Word.

Kinslayer no more,Brother from now on.

[echo-goes-mmm]

Silas and Wren 2.0 #5

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: past dub/noncon

Silas paced in his room. 

As much as he hated solitude, he’d grown accustomed to it. Now that he had company, what was there to say?

He’d gotten what he wanted, but it didn’t help the emptiness inside him.

Typical. 

He stopped, sighing. Maybe… maybe he just needed some time. To get used to another person again; or maybe time for the pain of rejection to leave.

If it ever left.

Silas opened his door, bumping into Wren. 

Wren squeaked at the impact. He stepped back, his honey-brown eyes wild.

“Sorry,” Silas apologized. “I didn’t know you were there.”

Wren's expression shifted in a flash, from fear to a placid smile, but Silas could hear his frantic heartbeat.

“I should have watched where I was going,” he said, polite as always. “I’m sorry, Master.”

Wren was afraid of him.

Of course Wren was afraid of him; how could he expect anything different? He shouldn’t hope for anything good from the universe. Nothing ever panned out right.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Wren’s relief was nearly imperceptible, but it was there.

“What’re you up to?” Silas asked.

Wren tensed again, and Silas could have smacked himself. “I’m only curious,” he added.

“I- I was looking for a duster, Master. To clean with.”

“Oh. Uh, I don’t think I have one. Sorry.”

“It’s alright, Master, I’ll make do,” Wren said with a sunny smile. It didn’t quite meet his eyes.

Silas wondered how many smiles Wren had faked before. He was too good at it.

“You don’t have to clean for me.”

Wren shifted. “I’d be happy to,” he said. “I don’t mind, Master.”

Silas knew a losing battle when he saw one.

“Well, alright. You don’t need to call me ‘master’, though. Just Silas will do.”

“Yes, Master Silas,” replied Wren automatically.

Silas sighed internally, and went downstairs.

So much for bonding. How did people make friends?

Silas scanned the bookshelf, looking for something to read. 

Unfortunately, he had read all of his books many times, and he really didn’t feel like risking the streets for the bookstore. 

The library was outside his pitiful territory, and out of the question.

Silas worried his lip. Maybe he could send Wren to buy a book or two?

He glanced at the clock. Ten pm. The bookstore closed at nine.

It was just as well, really. He couldn’t afford to spend money so frivolously. Sure, the banks were as happy to service vampires as they were humans- money was money after all- but his pockets were not as deep as most of his kin. 

Wren alone was a sizable expense, and he had to buy food for him every week. Not to even mention furnishing the attic room. No new books for a while, then.

Silas grabbed a random title and sat in his armchair. He flipped to the first chapter, skimming the words.

Nothing jumped out at him; the plot couldn’t hold his attention. He had read it too many times.

Silas scrubbed a hand over his face. 

He missed his sired siblings, even though they disliked him. He missed games and chatter and jokes, even if he was mostly left out.

But most of all he missed Felix; the only other person in his nest that didn’t hate him.

If only things had been different.

Silas sighed, and stood to put the book away.

___________________

Wren finished dusting the top of the kitchen shelves. No one had cleaned up there in ages, and no wonder. He had to climb on top of the counter to get to it.

Wren wiped off the counters one more time, and admired his work.

The kitchen was sparkling from top to bottom. He’d even mopped the floor, despite the lack of a proper mop.

Luckily, he’d found some rags in the bathroom closet. It seemed a rather strange place to keep them, but it wasn’t his place to question his Master’s organization system.

Speaking of his Master, Silas hadn’t fed from him yet. Surely he was hungry.

Wren put the stopper in the sink and filled it with hot water. He left the rags to soak, and went looking for his owner.

___________________

Master Silas was in the living room, staring off into space. His hands were folded in front of him, and his legs were stretched out.

Wren hesitated.

“Are you alright, Master?”

Silas turned his head, his gray eyes landing on him. Master looked away after only a moment.

“I’m fine,” he said.

Wren hesitated. “You haven’t had breakfast,” he said.

“I’m not hungry. Just… bored.”

What did he mean? A vampire who wasn’t hungry? Laughable. Incomprehensible. Then again, who was Wren to question him?

Boredom, though, he could fix.

Wren didn’t particularly want to at the moment- he was probably covered in dust- but it was about time he did his duty for Master Silas.

“I could entertain you, Master,” he offered, keeping his voice as pleasant and agreeable as possible.

Silas looked at him again. Wren’s hands twitched at the hem of his shirt, waiting for the order to strip.

It didn’t come.

Silas stood up. He walked to the shelf, and pulled down a box.

Confusion and relief swirled through him. A game. Just a board game.

“Do you know how to play Carcassonne?”

“I can learn, Master.”

Silas set the box on the coffee table, and Wren inched forward. Master began to pull out the pieces, and Wren sat on the rug across from him.

One day, soon, Master Silas would take him to the bedroom and Wren would find out what kind of Master he was. What he liked, and how to really please him.

But for now, Master wanted him to play a game.

Wren tried to pay attention as Master Silas explained the rules, but a thought nagged at him.

Why didn’t Silas want to bed him? 

No one had ever turned him down before. He never really had to offer before, either. It was a given; understood that Wren was always available. No Master needed to be bored when he was around.

It had been three days and Silas showed no sign of interest.

No Master had ever waited so long. Some took him into the bedroom immediately, others waited until evening came. One in particular, the worst of them, had bent him over the nearest piece of furniture as soon as they had walked through the door. 

But three days? Unheard of.

Silas placed the first square, and Wren was struck with a horrifying thought.

Was something wrong with him?

taglist: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @secretwhumplair @freefallingup13 @mylovelyme @whumpzone

@paintedpigeon1 @haro-whumps @whumpthisway @fanastyfinder @extemporary-whump

@susiequaz12 @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @the-cyrulik @morning-star-whump @writereleaserepeat

@annablogsposts @tobiaslut @starfields08000 @ghost-whump @bitchaknso

[cilil]

Crossroads of the Fallen King: The Sundelions of Arien

❁ Verse: Silmarillion x Legend of Zelda Totk/BotW ❁ Pairing: Mairon x Arien ❁ Synopsis: Mairon has a favour to ask of his former lover. ❁ Warnings: / ❁ Oneshot (~1.4k) | SWG

AN: Here's my contribution to the Crossroads of the Fallen King challenge! This oneshot takes place in my TotK/BotW AU and deals with the Sundelions, Arien as their caretaker and the key role they play in healing wounds dealt by Void creatures like Ungoliant and her spiders. For a more detailed explanation, see the end notes down below.

"Arien."

The sound of Mairon's voice is pleasant as always, and she listens before she knows it, ignoring the dread and anger welling up within her chest. Many times has Arien imagined what it will be like when he finally  decides to show his face again, how she will confront him for his betrayal, how she will be wiser and not let him fool her ever again. 

She doesn't have to look at him. She knows he's standing there, smiling as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't broken her heart. 

And she knows that these days he only comes to see her if he wants something. 

Arien has no patience for it. 

"What do you want?" she asks as coldly as she can and refuses to face him. Stubbornly, she keeps her gaze on the black and golden flowers she's tending to for her lady, the miraculous Sundelions that can produce the only known cure to the Void's Gloom; and suddenly she has an idea why her former lover chose to appear in a domain where he's not welcome. 

The fact that Mairon was able to reach her without being seen or detected worries her, though less for her sake and more for the Maiar of Vána and Yavanna who cannot match his fell fire. 

He has taken a step closer, and Arien feels an uncomfortable heat surging through her veins. Is it his gaze on her that she feels, she wonders, or is he already looking at his prize. 

She caresses the Sundelions' fragile petals as if in reassurance, and she knows his eyes follow her movements. 

"Look at me." 

Mairon's request, uttered softly and without the edge of command that so often accompanies his speech, startles Arien so much that she does. She sees the same face she knew many years ago, yet marred by a blackened wound across his left cheek, as if struck by a poisoned blade. Similar wounds are on his neck, chest, arms and hands, and pity overcomes her before she knows it. 

"What happened to you?" she gasps and rushes to his side. "Did the Dark One...?" 

For a moment Arien hopes that he will answer yes. If it was Melkor who hurt him, maybe he would finally see the error of his ways and come back to her. But as quickly as that thought has crossed her mind, she begins to abhor it. She knows well how dangerous the Dark Vala can be and doesn't want her fiery kin, fallen as they all may be, to face the wrath of his freezing storm. 

"No. I was hurt while fighting monsters from the Void; with his help, if I may add," Mairon says, holding up his hands and looking at his damaged palms. 

Arien takes his hands into hers. He remains eerily calm and composed, and the lack of any wincing or flinching makes her hope he isn't in too much pain. 

"Are you sure this is what happened?" she asks gently. "Are you sure you are not blaming something else to cover for him?" 

"He hasn't hurt me and would never do so. It is as I said." 

There is no anger in Mairon's voice, but his tone is firm. Arien isn't sure if she should admire his conviction or think him a fool for trusting and defending Melkor. 

And even if he didn't hurt him himself, he let him get hurt, she thinks, nodding to herself as if to reassure her conscience that the Dark Vala is indeed to blame for this mishap as well. 

Gingerly, she examines his wounds and finds that Mairon hasn't lied to her. Injuries from Void creatures have unfortunately become more common in recent times, prompting her lady Estë to instruct her Maiar accordingly and request a steady supply of Sundelions. The pervasive decay infesting their once thought unbreakable weapons must cause him as much ire and stress as his former lord Aulë, she muses. 

"You want me to heal you," she says. It's not a question; she is certain that she knows the reason for his visit now. At least he was wise enough to come alone and not bring his miserable master with him. 

"Ah, you don't have to." Mairon looks up at her, an amicable smile on his lips. "A few of these lovely flowers would already suffice. I can handle the rest myself; after all it would be rude of me to ask for too much from you." 

His words seem fair, his voice is smooth. It's all so perfectly easy and reasonable that Arien pauses, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. Why would he not take the freely given help of a Maia serving both Vána and Estë, he who has never been a healer. 

Unless... There is a reason why he wants to take the flowers himself. 

"Is your lord hurt as well?" Arien asks sharply. 

There is a flash of something unreadable in Mairon's eyes, gone before she can see it for what it is. 

"Of course not, why do you ask?" He laughs lightly. Too calm, too serene. It doesn't ease Arien's worries in the slightest. "You would not feel very inclined to help him if it were the case, no?"

"Are you lying to me because it is in fact the case and you want to use my compassion for you to take my flowers so you can help him?" 

At last mild annoyance clouds Mairon's fair features, and the ancient familiarity of seeing him thus makes it strangely comforting. Endearing even. Yet Arien keeps her guard up while trying to glimpse past his. 

"You have seen for yourself that I am wounded as I told you," he says. The corners of his mouth quirk upwards again as if to regain his smile, but it's more akin to a haughty smirk this time. 

Arien finds a strange sort of pleasure in breaking through Mairon's barriers and ripping off his carefully crafted masks, even if what she finds is less fair than the faces she remembers. 

"It is not like I fail to understand the thought," he continues, "deny me in order to deny Melkor, just in case. That is certainly something he would think to do to spite former lovers as well." 

Her own control slips, her hands sizzling against his as her fána heats up. To imply that she would stoop to Melkor's level — and yet, even though Arien knows full well the intent behind such a well-placed comment, she cannot deny that Mairon has a point. 

"We wouldn't have that problem if you just agreed to let me heal you instead," she snaps. 

"Perhaps, though I did tell you why I didn't feel it was appropriate of me to ask for that." Mairon has regained his calm, controlled composure with infuriating professionalism. 

It's not the first time that Arien has wondered if speaking to her is some sort of task or game for him that he completes with the same excellence as his other work. 

"You are going to come with me," she orders, still fuming. "We will go to my house and I will heal you properly and you will stay as long as it takes."

"If that is your wish, I shall." 

Mairon's smile is as bright as Arien's fury. She lets go of his hands and links their arms; he knows the way to her house, yet she feels the need to hold on to him lest he slip away too soon. At least his wounds will make him stay with her for a while, even if his powers and strange new magic seems to be mostly unscathed and only his fána is damaged. 

There is a strange sort of triumph in taking her wayward former lover home. She even begins to enjoy herself once she takes a few Sundelions to brew a healing potion, applying it to every inch of blackened skin and adding a few spoons to a bowl of hot soup that she feeds him. 

Thus absorbed in this brief moment of reconciliation with the Maia she once wished to spend eternity with, Arien remains blissfully unaware of the shadow that comes over her meadows at night, cruelly rips out a handful of her beloved flowers and disappears with his prey. 

End notes: In Zelda TotK, Sundelions are a plant ingredient used to cook healing items that can restore damaged caused by Gloom, an evil and harmful substance that essentially drains the life of its victims. It causes decay in weapons and permanently reduces Link's health, making him unable to heal himself fully until he can get rid of the Gloom damage. I felt like Void and Void creatures like Ungoliant would be an excellent fit for Gloom and Gloom-affected monsters, as well as Arien as a servant of Vána and Estë growing and maintaining Sundelions.

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @angbangbaby @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @blauerregen @bluezenzennie @destinyeternity1 @edensrose @elanna-elrondiel @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @melkors-defense-attorney @numenhore @sauron-kraut @urwendii @wandererindreams

[maironsbigboobs]

@silmsmutweek day 4: woodlands

Curufin gets the opportunity to have some revenge on Eöl. He thoroughly enjoys it.

Chains Unbroken

Curufin/Eöl, E, 1.4k, No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Tags: Sex Pollen, unsuitable use of forge instruments, object insertion

“Curufin.”

The door to the workshop rattled the shelves as Eöl threw it open. Curvo spun around, hammer in hand, braced for - well, he did not know what he was expecting, but it was something. It was not this.

In the doorway, Eöl stood. His pale face was flushed ruby-red, his eyes blown wide and frantic. He stumbled towards Curvo, shedding his clothing as he went. Curvo gripped the hammer harder, ready to strike - something wild was in Eöl’s face, and he did not like it. 

“What has gotten into you?” he hissed, as Eöl grasped his arm. His hand was burning hot. Close to him now, he could see the sweat on his brow, and how feverishly he trembled.

“I need you, Curufin.” 

As nice as it might have been to hear under different circumstances, Curvo hesitated. Something was not right, and he would not fall victim to another of Eöl’s games. He was in no mood for yet another quarrel; he had projects that demanded his attention. 

Curvo wrenched his arm free. “Explain yourself.”

Eöl made a noise that Curvo had never heard before; a deep, pained whine, like a hunting dog in heat. He swallowed thickly, and Curvo realised he was practically drooling. Was he sick? He had heard of a sickness that Dwarves and Men got, if bitten by wild beasts, but he had never seen such a thing in elves - and given Tyelko, he would know.

“The forest,” Eöl stammered, and his usually steady voice was high and shaky. “The pollen. I inhaled. It..”

Some kind of allergy, perhaps? Oh, if this forest lord had an allergy to his beloved trees, Curvo would die laughing. “Go on.”

“There is a flower... ah,” he hardly seemed able to string his words together. “The pollen, it induces in elves the desire to... to breed - ah and it hurts.”

Curufin raised a brow.

Eöl was at his mercy. A thousand plans ran through Curvo’s mind, each more cruel than the last. He could lock him in the forge, leave him to suffer out the effects of this pollen alone and in pain; it would be a sweet revenge for all the torment Eöl had wrought on him. Or with Eöl weakened, he could try his luck, gather his things and flee, and return to the safety of Himlad. 

Better yet, he could smash him around the head with this hammer, and do everyone else a favour too. What was one more kin slain?

But... he found himself reluctant to flee. It was not that he was fond of Eöl, no, but he would miss the company of a fellow craftsman. None in Himlad could have the same long conversations on metal properties and shaping methods. He had friends among the Dwarves who could, but they were Eöl’s friends too, and he would hate for murder to come between him and Telchar’s kin. Yes. He stayed for politics, nothing else. 

Eöl made another pitiful sound, grinding himself against a workbench. Curvo smiled. Yes, Eöl was at his mercy. 

If he was not going to flee, he might as well have fun with it.

“Strip, harlot.” He commanded. Eöl blanched. Curvo thought of all the names Eöl had called him; slut, whore, kinslayer, murderer - and laughed. He hoped it tasted bitter.

Eöl did not move. Curvo pointed the sharp claw of the hammer at him. “Do not make me repeat myself, else I leave you here with your hands bound, and you shall have no relief then.”

The threat of being left helpless worked. Eöl clawed his way out of his remaining clothes, leaving them strewn across the room.

Curvo bit his lip. The sight of him was sweeter than all the delights of Valinor, and he ached with desire. But first, he wanted to see the proud lord undone.

He looked at Eöl, and then to the hammer in his hand, and smiled. He pressed the handle against Eöl’s lips.

“Suck.”

In the moment the authority of all his ancestors possessed him, and Curufin commanded. Eöl obeyed.

He leaned forward on his knees, slowly taking the handle in his mouth. Curufin watched, as Eöl worshipped the wood with attention that he had never shown Curufin himself. Curufin pushed the wood deeper into his mouth, smiling as Eöl gagged on it, drool spilling out the corner of his mouth.

“Come now, Eöl. I thought you loved your craft better than all else. Show it some devotion.”

Eöl groaned, letting the hammer fall from his mouth. “It hurts,” he whined, shoving a hand between his legs to grind against his fist. “I need...”

Pathetic. Curufin ignored all the times he had begged so similarly. 

He wrapped his fingers in Eöl’s hair, wrenching him from the floor and throwing him across a workbench. 

“If you are so desperate, prove it.” He held out the hammer to him again. “Show me how much you want it.”

Eöl’s hands trembled as he took the hammer and Curvo did not know if it was the pollen in his blood or fear that made them weak.

With a deep breath, he pressed the hilt of the hammer to his hole. Eöl’s cock was hard and weeping, beads of seed trickling across his thigh. Curvo longed to lean in and lap them up, but he held himself back. This was not about Eöl’s pleasure. 

Both of them groaned as Eöl sank  further onto the hammer. Curvo loosened his robes, opening the front of his trousers to stroke himself. 

“You can put a bit more effort into it than that, dark elf.” Curvo paused his ministrations, holding himself back. As beautiful as the sight was, he did not want to spill yet. Not yet.

Eöl obeyed; he was writhing now, panting, his hand slipping from the handle again and again as he chased his climax against the merciless metal. “Please, Curufin.” His voice broke. “Curufinwë.”

Curvo squeezed the base of his cock again. Valar, Quenya sounded sordid on Eöl's lips.

“Cum.” He commanded breathlessness, stepping forward and shoving the hammer as deep as it would go in one swift movement. 

Eöl howled as he came, white ropes of seed pooling on his stomach. His cock twitched, dribbles of cum trickling down his length, but to Curvo's surprise he was still hard. This pollen was interesting indeed: he would have to maintain a little supply of it, to slip into Eöl’s wine when he got too much to bear. Life in Nan Elmoth might be considerably more tolerable.

In three strides he has crossed the room, and he grasped Eöl’s hair in his fist, yanking him up and turning him around.

Eöl swept out an arm, knocking everything off the bench with a tremendous crash. “Fuck me,” he panted, grinding back against Curufin's crotch. “Fuck me, kinslayer.”

“You are ever eloquent, dark elf.” Curufin pushed him down against the bench, pinning him, and in one fluid strike he was inside him.

They moaned in tandem. Curufin tightened his grip on Eöl's hair, wrenching his head towards him and forcing him to arch his back. Eöl’s hands gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white.

Curvo ploughed into him, shaking the bench with force of his thrusts, his grip leaving imprints on Eöl's hip.

He was so close now, he had been close since Eöl had first begged for him. With one last burst of strength, he pulled Eöl back against his chest, biting into his shoulder as he climaxed, filling Eöl with his seed.

With another pitiful howl, Eöl came again, making even more mess across the bench and his stomach, his over sensitive muscles twitching. 

“So beautiful.” Curvo murmured. “So greedy. No one wonder you keep me here. You would not be able to cope without me to fuck you, would you?”

Eöl only whimpered. 

Spent, he pulled away, letting Eöl slump to the floor. Oh, such a mess they had made. Curvo pitied the servants who had to clean in here - although, perhaps he still had enough sway to make Eöl do it. It would be nice to watch him on his hands and knees. 

Eöl rolled up onto his knees, seed dripping from his hole and onto his thighs. Curufin wished it would stain, marking the pale skin as his. 

Eöl’s eyes were clearer now, and his voice, though rasping, was not trembling.

“Perhaps, Curufin.” he said, with all the ceremony of a lord despite his position, despite his pleading, “We ought to retire to the house. This is but a momentary respite.”

Curvo grinned. It was going to be a long night.

He was looking forward to it.