#ash raining down from the sky

[hoobgooblinn]

Streets (Twitter) saying Mt. St. Helens is gonna erupt again…

[lyonnerileyauthor]

you live like Cinderella, used and abused by your so-called family, forced to work all day and live in the barn like a rat. you clean up after them every moment, doing all the chores and cooking all the meals. you're tired, so tired of the punishments that meet you for stepping slightly out of line.

one day, it goes too far. with a broken arm, you hobble back out to the barn, intent on one goal: to get revenge and escape this place.

there's a village witch, you see, who everyone detests. they throw food at her when she comes to the village and taunt her as she buys her groceries. you find your way to her house after dark, and knock on her door. when she sees you, it's as if she expected you, and she has a small stack of ingredients ready.

mix them together over a flame and chant these words, she says. this spell will fix what ails you.

you chant the words and stir the mixture. then, as instructed, you pour it out onto the floor. the whole barn turns red, bright red, and you wonder if you've made a mistake by listening to that old witch.

he appears in a puff of smoke, skin as crimson as the dawn sky, with a spaded tail that flicks like a cat's. he has many horns along his crown, and a snakelike tongue darts out as he regards you.

for what purpose have you summoned me? he asks. but all you have to do is show him your arm, and he understands.

he rains down punishment upon the family, turning their house to ash, sending his fire nymphs to chase and beat them. when the true monsters are burned and bruised, he aims to kill, but you stop him.

that's good enough, you say. you've had your revenge. but you see, he's infuriated at how you've been treated. he wants to end this, to bestow the final blow, but you convince him to let them live with their punishment.

then what else can I do? he asks. where will you go next?

you'll wander, you figure, until you find a new home. at least now you're free.

then I will wander with you. he's not ready to return to the other realm yet, not while you still need his help.

together, you abandon the village before anyone can discover what you've done. deep in the woods, though, there's nowhere to sleep except the circle of the demon's monstrous arms.

I promise I won't use my claws, he says, welcoming you into them. here, ensconced in him, you feel his cock emerge from that pocket at his groin. he doesn't move to use it, but you find you want him to—this creature who saved you, who has helped you without asking for payment in return. he's marvelous, powerful, and strange. perhaps this is how you might reward him.

you spread yourself and slowly, sink down on that massive crimson cock. he groans as you take all of him, soaking up his need, coasting on a river of your desire. you begin at your own pace, until his lust grows overwhelming—and then he throws you down to the forest floor, his eyes wild and red. now he fucks you harder, claiming you, owning you. you're mine now, he mutters, bringing you to your finish over and over again. he will eat your pleasure until there's nothing left, drowning in it.

when you're finished, you sleep; but soon he grows hard again, his craving for you having taken over. when you've restored your strength, he fucks you again, demanding that you never leave him. whichever realm you choose, he'll stay by your side.

[jayparked]

𝓂𝓊𝓈𝒾𝒸 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 | 𝒿𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓈𝑒𝑜𝓃𝑔 | 𝓂

snippet: "Ride me." Jay huffs. It's a command, not a request. He moves back to the head of the bed, adjusting the pillows before leaning back against them. Lifting the covers away from his body, he removes his boxers slowly. looking into your eyes as he does so. pairing: park jongseong x female reader genre: smut au: music producer jay, established relationship rating: explicit/18+, minors dni word count: 9.7k warnings: thunder and lightning storms, cigarette smoking sexual warnings: early morning sex, unprotected sex, lots of moaning, y/n tries to be a brat but jay aint having it, forced orgasm, oral (female and male receiving), jay almost lets y/n dom but then quickly changes his mind, spitting/mentions of drool, fingering, biting, marking, light bruising (from fingernails and biting), choking, language, some light foot worship, jay just really needs y/n to moan the way she did earlier so he can use it for his track, voice recording, brief use of sex toys i.e: restraints and vibrator, begging, whimpering, overstimulation, dirty talk, cigarette use, uhh jay uses the ashes from his cigarette on y/n’s nipples as a stimulant..., there’s some real good aftercare in there too so don’t worry, they’re like...grossly in love

The sound of the rain pitter pattering against the window is what initially draws you from your slumber. It falls rhythmically in a way that would normally lull you back to sleep, but the loud, harsh, fast contact of the water against the glass is almost flinch worthy. It isn’t an ordinary skylight window above a bed. The bedroom walls are slanted invertedly so that when you’re lying on the bed and look up, the window is slanted right above you. You watch as the raindrops hit the window and slowly slide down.

Yawning, you stretch out your arms and feel your muscles tighten before relaxing and you sigh softly with pleasure. You rub your eyes with your fists, blinking quickly as the moonlight escapes past the clouds barrier and cascades across your face causing you to squint annoyedly. Jay loves leaving the specially built blinds up at night, something you had to grow accustomed to after some time living together. Night after night watching him gaze wistfully towards the moon, it became your favorite part of your nightly routine. Watching that look of childish wonder gloss over your boyfriend’s eyes...there’s just nothing like it.

Tonight, the sky isn’t so peaceful. Lightning angrily streaks across the sky making you jump and clutch the flannel sheets to your chest.

"It wake you up too?"

You gasp, a sharp intake of breath causes your voice to squeak.

"You scared me, Jay!" You slap your boyfriend's shoulder lightly with the palm of your hand. He chuckles and rolls onto his side to face you, black hair swooping down over his forehead, just above his very awake looking eyes.

"Sorry. The thunder woke me up a little while ago. I was waiting for it to get you next." The edges of his eyes pinch together as he smirks, his voice sounding more sultry than playful. You shake your head trying to distract yourself from leading your mind down that alley. But it's hard when he looks that good and especially since you just had a dream about his-

"So. Now that we're both up..." he whispers and runs his pointer finger down your arm from your shoulder to your fingertips. "What should we do?" His big innocent eyes are all a ploy, you know that for sure. His pupils are blown out and his breathing is uneven. He knows exactly what he wants to do...and you're not sure if you're against it.

"How about..." you start slowly. You run your hand up his naked chest, feeling his muscles flex under your palm. He sighs and closes his eyes, completely enjoying the feeling of your hand rubbing against his bare skin. His sleep swollen lips part open and you can hear his breaths coming out sharp and quick, his heart rate rising quickly. You guide your hand down his chest and over his abdomen which makes him take in a sharp breath between his teeth. Jay's eyes remain closed so it's easier to marvel over the way his bottom lip starts to quiver, or the way the moonlight cascades shadows off his eyelashes, or the way his cock becomes more and more visible as it hardens under the sheets.

"How about we go back to sleep!" You say excitedly and remove your hand from your boyfriend's body. You throw your head back into your pillow and quickly close your eyes, pretending to instantly fall back asleep. If only it was that easy, right?

"I think we both know there's no point in sleeping now," Jay says, a low growl vibrating deep in his throat. He grasps the sheets in his hand and with one quick motion he throws them off your bodies and onto the floor. Cold air coats your skin and you tuck your knees up to your chest to try to keep in the warmth.

"Oh. Don't worry." Jay grabs your shoulders and turns you on your back, grasping your knees and opening up your legs so that he could kneel between them. "I'll warm you up real quick."

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, your stomach on fire with anticipation of what's to come. A streak of bright lightning flashes outside once more, followed by a loud clap of thunder over your heads. Jay moves his hand from your shoulder and rubs his palms up and down your thighs- the warmth of his skin makes you sigh and your shoulders relax further into the bed as his hands get further and further up your leg. He gets closer and closer to the edge of your pajama shorts, each time his hands move up and down your legs you're annoyingly aware of the nearness. Like a magnet, your hips move downward to shift your body closer to him, trying so desperately to close that distance. All you want is for him to reach his long fingers underneath your shorts and relieve all of the tension building up at your clit.

"You still with me?" His voice is sultry, almost grainy. He leans back against his heels, now even further away from your heat. But that doesn't stop his roaming hands. Jay's thumb rubs against your talus and moves down to the arch of your foot. At first you flinch from the contact, his fingers tickling your skin. But you relax as he continues to massage your feet, total bliss overtaking your body.

"Sorry," you sigh out. "Feels so good."

Jay smiles, the hunger gone from his eyes for a moment and in their place is the look of a caretaker wanting to bring comfort. He longingly looks at your foot as he continues to massage it and as you look at him you can see clearly how much he loves you. With every soft and delicate touch down to the way he treats every inch of your body as if it were a prized gem.

But then the hunger returns and he moves away from your feet, crawling up towards your face until his lips are mere centimeters away from yours. The heat from his breath makes you hold in your own breathing, your lips parting, desperately wanting for him to kiss you.

This small action does not go unnoticed and Jay prides himself in his ability to have you wrapped around his beautifully long fingers. "Is there something you want?" His lips barely brush over the tops of your own with his annunciation of 'you want'. Shivers run down your spine and your eyes flutter closed, tilting your chin up towards him and elongating your neck. Jay lets his eyes roam over your body, licking his lips as he focuses on the spot of your neck that he knows is extra sensitive.

"What do you want?" His voice is so soft, far beyond a whisper or even a murmur and it completely contrasts against the ever nearing booming of thunder. There's a hidden softness behind his eyes as he peels them away from your body to look into your own. His bangs are falling over his eyes again and you take your hand to sweep them away. Instead of resting your hand back at your side, you cup his cheek, feeling the softness of his skin beneath your fingertips.

Sighing, you can only manage to get out one word in response, "You."

Both of your lips pull together with a force stronger than magnets. There's a faint remnant of smoke hidden behind his breath that's so addicting you can't help but deepen the kiss further. Tongues swirl together and it feels like you've slipped into a dream. One of his hands cradles the small of your back while the other one weaves fingers into your hair. A light tug on your scalp makes you moan into Jay's mouth and he replies hungrily by taking your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling gently yet hard enough to make your head lean forward so that your shoulders lift off the bed.

Jay pulls your body forward more, the hand on the small of your back raising you up until you're both sitting facing one another. His chest feels warm to the touch despite the chill that lingers in the room. You don't blame him though. Your body also feels like it's radiating more heat than normal. With each kiss adds a whole other degree to the body temperature between the two of you. And you just can't get enough. 

"Ride me." Jay huffs. It's a command, not a request. He moves back to the head of the bed, adjusting the pillows before leaning back against them. Lifting the covers away from his body, he removes his boxers slowly. looking into your eyes as he does so. This man is so confident it's almost unsettling. But you know he knows how much you love watching him undress. And it wouldn't be Jay if he wasn't teasing you in some way.

The band of his boxers dips below his hips, exposing his deep muscle lines. The bulge of his cock is so prominent it's making your mouth water and legs twitch with anticipation. Finally, he pulls them all the way down and releases his hardened cock from its cotton cage. He looks harder than normal, the redness of his skin a whole new shade of red than before. A large vein pulses at you, encouraging you to get closer and indulge in all the pleasures it offers you.

When Jay's hand grasps his shaft and strokes lazily, that's when your mind starts to feel hazy. Your mouth starts to salivate and that burning need between your legs is growing so intensely if you don't act on it soon you just might combust right here in this very spot.

You crawl towards your boyfriend slowly, watching him leisurely pump his cock in a way a cat would watch a mouse eat. Batting his hand away, you take his thickness in both of your hands, feeling the warm blood pump through his veins. Jay winces as you grip him a little tightly, the tip of his cock nearly throbbing in your hands from the pressure. You lean over him and open your mouth slightly, allowing a bead of drool to drop down and run down the side of his shaft.

"Fuck." Jay leans his head back against the headboard and moans.

"I'm so hungry for you," you purr and flatten your tongue against the side of his cock and lick one long stripe up to the tip, swirling your tongue around it before sliding your tongue back down again. Jay moans underneath you, muscles already shaking from the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"Do you want me to suck you off or ride you?" You continue to use your tongue to play with him, licking down to the base of his cock before leaving little love bites at the base of his stomach and along his hip bones. Using one of your hands, you reach upward and apply pressure as your hand climbs up his stomach muscles, feeling every curve against your palm until you get to his chest and repeat the motion downward. Another moan leaves his beautiful lips and you can't help but smirk as you realize you could do this all day. Watching him melt in your hands and seeing him mentally debate with himself was a power surge unlike any other.

“Ri-ride me. I want you to ride me.” The words barely come out audible. His eyes are wide as he blinks rapidly, trying his best to stay present, his jaw and neck muscles bulging. He’s so close to the edge you think about ignoring his request. If you just suck him off all the way through, there would be punishment. No doubt about that. As appealing as being punished by your super sexy boyfriend might be, you decide to abide by his request and position yourself over him, your entrance hovering over his weeping cock.

“No more teasing.” The pleading tone is gone from his voice. Instead, it’s commanding and authoritative.

But you choose to ignore that once again.

“Can you even last?” You stick your tongue out playfully, gently biting down as you smirk. Your hands roam over his chest and lightly graze his nipples, a small act that normally drives him insane and right now you can see the clear focus in his eyes. You picked the wrong night to try to be playful.

“Fuck it. You wanna play games? I can play games.” In one sweeping motion, Jay has you on your back, his body hovering over yours. His hand is back on the small of your back, his fingertips gently kneading the muscles of your flesh before he digs his nails in, leaving a trail of scratch marks down your spine.

He tilts his head to the side as he looks into your eyes, pausing to think about something that thrills you to your bones. You’ve never been with a more imaginative partner before and although sometimes his ideas seem scary at first, you trust him completely.

“Oh,” he says simply. “You thinking about something interesting?”

“I’m thinking about all the ways I want you to fuck me.”

“Oof. What a foul mouth you have. Such vulgar words coming out of those pretty lips of yours. I’d fill it if I wasn’t so inclined to fuck that pussy of yours.”

You hitch in a breath, that tingling sensation spurring back to life deep within your core.

As if reading the thoughts of your body, he moves one hand slowly down your midsection, pausing right above your pelvic area. You want to rub your thighs together, hell, you want to touch yourself- no screw that, you need him to fuck you right here and right now. A floodgate of desire opens up within you and you need his cock inside of you. Now.

“Jay please, please fuck me. I need you inside me. I need to feel you.” It came out whinier than you initially intended, but now’s not the time to dwell on one’s tone.

Completely and utterly satisfied with his victory, Jay lines his cock up with your entrance, the tip of his head brushing past your folds and picking up the slick coming out of you. Moaning with the contact, as little as it may be, you try to scoot down further to feel him against your clit. But he holds your hips down firmly in place. You’re not going anywhere unless he wants you to move.

Jay pauses and turns around, grabbing your pillow. You push on your feet, lifting your ass off the bed so that he can rest the pillow underneath there. Now, slightly elevated, he has a better angle and a straight accessway to your g-spot.

Leaning forward, Jay lightly wraps his fingers around your throat, squeezing lightly. Your eyes flutter backwards, already at risk of coming undone from the buildup alone. His pointer finger is pressing right where the sensitive spot on your neck is underneath your ear and it takes everything you have to keep yourself from moaning like a sick person.

The head of his cock teases your entrance once more, getting closer and closer until literally just the tip goes inside before he abruptly pulls back out.

“Please. No more teasing.” You beg, wiggling your shoulders as you pout.

“Not so funny now that you’re on the other end, huh?” Jay lowly chuckles and that’s when he thrusts his hips forward, his cock sliding right into you.

“Oh!” You yell as the tip brushes against your g-spot instantly. Your gasp gets caught in your throat because of his hand around your neck and you nearly swallow your own words. The restricted airways has your head feeling lighter than normal and it gives you a new high that’s impossible to feel if he would have done this without his hand squeezing your neck. Your walls contract instinctually around him, desperately trying to adjust to his length and girth. The light tug feels so satisfying and you grip his forearms tightly, fingernails leaving small half-moon shaped marks in his skin.

“Ugh, you’re so wet and still so tight,” Jay whines and slowly moves his hips back and forth, not enough to remove the head of his cock from you, but enough to brush against your bundle of nerves over and over and over again. He releases his hand from your neck and moves it down on the bed to support himself as he quickens his pace. 

Arching your back already, you shut your eyes tightly as you try to keep yourself from coming too soon.

Not quite sure if it’s the angle, the day, or the way he’s rhythmically moving his hips, but this all feels too good. Even more so than sex with Jay usually is. The way he's pounding you into the mattress has your body contorting in what should be inhuman ways. Your arms bend as you grip the sheets above your head, your back arches in a possessed like manner as Jay continues to use his cock to send you over the edge. Sex has never felt this good before. He has never made you feel this good before. Your body is shaking- no, vibrating as you feel that white heat getting closer and closer. Your breath hitches in your throat before you let out the most pornarific moan you've ever heard in your life. Upon hearing you, Jay stutters inside you, his orgasm hitting him harder than he expected. You're still coming down from your own high, the dark spots in the corners of your vision are finally disappearing.

"Holy fuck," Jay pants as he slowly removes himself from you. “You’ve never made that sound before.” He’s sitting back on his heels once more, staring at you with a look of wonder. There’s a spark in his eyes, one that you recognize, and you stifle a laugh knowing what’s about to come next.

“Inspired?” You smile.

“Immensely,” he delights. His fingers start to tap rhythmically against his thighs as he looks over to his music equipment in the corner of the room. In the most innocent and inoffensive way, he’s long forgotten you as his creative mind kicks into overdrive.

“Go.” You yawn. “I’m gonna go back to sleep.”

Jay leans down and gives you a quick kiss on your temple, leaving the bed to quickly pull on his sweatpants and seating himself in his chair, firing up his computer and putting on his headphones.

Your eyes droop slower and slower, getting heavier each time you blink. The last thing you see before sleep takes you is your boyfriend leaning forward in his chair, back muscles rippling as he lights a cigarette, the smoke swirling up towards the ceiling as he exhales, dancing through the fringe of his bangs as it ascends.

“Ugh!”

Your eyes shoot open, sleep being yanked away from you by a loud bang and the yell from Jay. Sitting up, you see your boyfriend’s fists clenched tightly, resting on either side of his keyboard. His face is red, the vein on his temple starting to bulge and his shoulders are hunched so far that his shoulders are almost touching his ears.

“Jay? What’s wrong?” You rub your fists into your eyes, trying to keep the grumpiness of being abruptly woken up at bay.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He slides his headphones off his ears so that they’re sitting at the base of his neck. The ends of his hair is coated with sweat, the tips of his ears red from the headphones being on for too long. Pivoting his chair towards you, you can see the stress lines on his forehead and the strain in his eyes. There’s a nearly finished cigarette tucked between his fingers at the knuckles and a few finished ones lying in the ashtray by his keyboard. He huffs on the one in his hand quickly before putting it out in said ashtray and then climbs onto the bed to sit across from you, his knees touching yours.

"I've been working on this track for the past three hours now. I just can't get the pitch right." He shakes his head in defeat, a long sigh leaving his lips as he does so.

"This happens all the time, but it’s okay. You always get it in the end." You try to sound encouraging but instead your voice comes off dull and uninterested.

Jay's mouth pulls to the right side of his face, making the lines by his cheeks and dimple deepen. "This one is different. I'm already starting to forget how you sounded."

Baffled, you tilt your head to the side and nervously laugh. "Me? I thought I dreamt that!"

"Yes you! I've never heard anything more...more...more," he snaps his fingers as he tries to think of the right word, "more exhilarating! It was dramatic. It was sexy, inspiring even. It was a sound that could tell anyone what you're feeling. It's pure bliss." His fingers absentmindedly make their way to the divot on the inside of your knee, rubbing slow deep circles into your skin. On a regular day, the touch would barely be noticed. Right now, on the other hand, his touch ignites a fire in your blood, raising your body temperature to a whole new degree. It's suddenly hard to swallow and you're very, very aware that you are watching as his lips form words as he speaks, barely comprehending said words at all. The way his jaw moves and the way his mouth molds around each syllable and seeing flashes of his tongue gently touch the rooftop of his mouth.

"Y/N? You fall asleep with your eyes open again?"

You're brought back down to earth, blinking rapidly as you feel your boyfriend softly shake your shoulder.

"Sorry," you rub your eyes and suppress the urge to yawn, "I guess I'm still tired."

"Let me tuck you in." He goes to lay you back down and you gladly let him.

"Here," you mumble, lips barely moving and eyes already shut. You let the weight of your arm bounce against his side of the bed . "You should sleep too. Take a break. Work later."

He doesn't respond but his weight is still on the end of the bed. You can feel the dip and you just want him to lie down already.

"Jaaayyy," you whine, eyes still closed.

"I think," his pitch has changed, a low murmur making your eyes pop open wide immediately. You know that tone. You know it all too well and your body starts to overheat again, "I want to do something else."

Slowly lifting your head, you intend to look into his eyes, but you're very quickly misguided as you watch your boyfriend slowly pumping at his cock, quickly making himself go from semi hard to fully hard in mere seconds. His blue boxers rest below his hip bones, giving yourself a full display on the thing that is going to wreck you into the next dimension momentarily.

"O-oh." You sit there frozen, unsure of what to do next.

"I know I just fucked you but honestly? I can do better." There's a devilish smirk painted onto that beautiful face of his and you've never been more excited to be a sinner.

You match his smirk and use your feet to kick the covers off the bed and before you're done with the action, he's on top of you. Lips that usually feather lightly across your body now hungrily nip and lick over your rib cage, around your hip bones below your stomach line, and over the swell of your collar bones. Each nip and pull makes you shiver beneath him, your hands tracing over the muscles on his back. Your legs come up and hug his hips, now trapping him in place. One of Jay's hands grabs a fistful of your yellow night shorts, tugging them to the side but not necessarily taking them off. His thumb digs into your hip bone while he kisses around your breasts. The closeness of his fingers to your core is driving your body absolutely mad. You're already so turned on and ready to be touched and you know that he knows that that's what you want.

And yet…

His tongue delicately swirls your nipple and you hold your breath for a moment. The coolness of the air mixed in with his saliva makes you feel chills throughout your entire body. He flattens his tongue directly on the tip of your nipple as he squeezes the other breast with his hand and you quickly move your hands from his back and into his soft black hair. You grip tightly at his roots, already feeling your back start to arch as he continues to lick and lap at the hardening buds on your chest.

"Hmm...already?" He chuckles as he takes your nipple between his teeth.

"Hnng," You groan out and grip his hair tighter. Your breathing shallows and your body can't decide what it wants. You want him to rub your clit oh so badly but you don't want him to stop massaging your breasts. The way his tongue swirls around your nipple is almost too good. No one should be this talented with their mouth.

He moves to the side of your breasts and leaves love bites in an array of patterns on your skin.

"Why'd you stop?" You gasp and grip his shoulders. The love bites feel great, they definitely don't help the surge of arousal going straight down into your shorts, but you know you were close to coming and you've never come from nipple stimulation alone.

"You weren't moaning how I wanted you to. Ah- which...actually reminds me..." And just like that, his body is off of yours, taking the heat with him. Getting off the bed, Jay opens one of his desk drawers and removes a small microphone with a clip. You watch as he gathers the necessary chords, no ordinary recording device would do. He quickly attaches one end of the chords into his computer and fishes the rest of the line out as he walks back towards the bed. Still holding the hand sized device, he places his knees on either side of your hips, giving you a full view of his beautifully erected cock. You mentally note that he has definitely shaved recently, his skin looking so soft and kissable. The thought of kissing and sucking at the areas around the base of his cock makes your mouth water. While he busies himself with trying to find a way for the microphone to rest on top of the headboard without falling, you help yourself to a little taste of him.

The tip of his cock is salty with precum and you lick your lips quickly to lubricate them. Jay's hips instinctively flinch backwards, but once he looks down and sees what you're doing, all he does is smirk and continue to work on setting up the microphone.

You slowly insert the head of his cock onto the top of your tongue just inside your mouth. Exhaling, you let your warm breath fall across his shaft and small goosebumps appear at his midsection. Taking a long stripe from the base of his cock and back to the head, you avoid any chastising about teasing by promptly inserting him fully into your mouth, slowly and inch by inch allowing him to sink further and further back into your throat. You go until the tip of your nose and your lips touch his midsection, his length now fully submerged in your throat.

"Jesus you're not playing around tonight aren't you?"

You hum a response that makes his hips sputter, a stuttering groan leaving his lips quickly followed by a whispered ‘fuck’.

Slowly moving your head back, you go until the tip is almost past your lips before moving back down his shaft. You keep up the slow pace, mostly to annoy him and also to insure that he doesn't come anytime soon.

His hands, without warning, are weaving through your hair as you swirl your tongue around his tip. He guides you, quickening your pace and he continues to hit the back of your throat over. And over. And over-

Jay pulls himself back and his cock is out of your mouth.

"You're a sneaky little devil. You almost had me." He wags his finger at your face, making small tsk tsk noises with his mouth as he recenters himself and pulls his boxers up, hiding his beautiful cock from view. "Now, where was I?" He leans back towards the microphone and turns it on, a bright red light blinking up on the side. Adjusting the angle one last time, he's finally happy with his setup.

"Do you know what this is for?" He points to it and gets off the bed. Humoring him, you shake your head no.

"I need you to make that sound you made earlier. Do you understand? I don't want it. I need it."

Worriedly, you realize he's heading towards the closet and fear and excitement root into your chest as you watch him bend down to the last drawer of the dresser and take out a shoe box.

Sauntering back to the bed, he carelessly throws the shoe box onto the bed and some of its contents fall out. A bright blue vibrator as long as your forearm is the first you see followed up by light gray fuzzy handcuffs. There's more in the box, at least half a dozen other toys that Jay only likes to break out when he feels like you need to be punished, or if he needs a specific reaction from your body.

Right now, you're thinking it might be both options.

Jay picks up the handcuffs and looks them over in his hands. He's acting as if he's never used them on you before and that in itself is thrilling because now, you don't know what's going to happen next.

Pulling out three more pairs from the box, he wordlessly cuffs your wrists and ankles to the bedposts while you willingly, and wordlessly, allow him.

Still without words, he moves back to the bed. That's when you notice how steady his breathing is. And although appearing to be calm under a heated situation, his cock continues to throb and twitch, the head surely getting redder and angrier by the second underneath his boxers.

His hands are moving down your body, feeling every curve, reading every detail in your skin as if he were reading braille. Fingers dip inside your waistband, hooking around the material before sliding them down your legs, annoyedly realizing that he should have removed them before cuffing you to the bed. Without blinking, he grasps the material between his hands and tears the fabric as if it were nothing more than a single sheet of paper. The anticipation of his touch is driving you crazy and you're never going to get over the fact that your boyfriend has now literally torn your clothes off your body in order to get you naked.

"Please, babe," you pull at your restraints, the fuzzy padding protecting your wrists from any real harm and you try your best to spread your legs out further for him, "touch me."

Unresponsive, Jay eyes your core, looking at it in a way a man starved looks at a loaf of bread. His hands are on your thighs now, deeply kneading your muscles with his fingertips. His thumbs graze over bruises from previous escapades and it feels borderline euphoric.

"Touch me." You repeat and watch angrily as he remains unresponsive. His hands dip lower, over your knees and down to your shins. Desperation bubbles up from within the pits of your belly and rises until you feel it fester in your throat until you can't keep it down any longer.

"Touch me!" You yell and not so gently nudge his side with your leg. Finally, he looks up at your face and chuckles under his breath.

"So needy," he says with disappointment, but a smile paints softly across his face. "So ungrateful and so spoiled."

Jay's hands move quickly, fingers suddenly grip tightly at your hips as he raises up your lower half until it's level with his face. You bite on your bottom lip to keep yourself from yelping as his fingernails scratch into your skin before moving to support your weight by cupping your ass. You can feel his hot breath hovering over your clit, making you feel just how truly wet you are. Jay gulps down hard, looking as if being presented with a grand holiday meal.

"You're glistening, baby," he groans, proceeding to attach his lips onto your clit. The moment his tongue makes contact with your slickness, you inhale quickly. Finally, finally some contact.

He swirls his tongue slowly around your clit, no longer making direct contact. Gathering as much juices as he can, he spits it back out onto your clit. Warm mixes with cold and you sit up quickly only to be pushed back down by your boyfriend's strong hands. He keeps his hand on your chest right below your collarbone as he uses his other hand to wipe your juices and his spit around your clit.

It's so wet you almost miss the feeling of his bare hands.

"So, so messy." He tsks at you and continues his movements. "What am I going to do with you, Y/n? Hmm?"

You stay silent at the sound of your name instead of his usual pet names for you. His piercing brown eyes stare deep within yours as he continues to stroke you.

"Do I let you come from my fingers? From my tongue? From my cock? What will make you make that pretty...pretty sound again?"

You whimper as he inserts a single finger into your hole, your vagina naturally clenching around the digit. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enough.

Jay chuckles and you know he's finding humor in the way he has you wrapped around his finger...well...quite literally. He knows how weak you are when it comes to him, knows you'll do anything for him and knows exactly what to do to make you feel good.

"Are you going to be a good girl and make that pretty sound again? Hm? For me?" He inserts another finger and slowly curls them inside you, beckoning you towards him and touching that spongey bundle of nerves that sends you straight into the heavens.

"I'll try!" You cry out, wishing that he would apply more pressure inside of you so that you can finally release the orgasm that has been building up bigger and bigger. You’re honestly not sure if you can make the same moaning sound that he’s referring to because, quite honestly, you have no idea what you sounded like in the first place.

Jay pushes down your hips that you weren't aware you had raised upward. He keeps his free hand there while he quickens his pace with the other. The beautiful and sinful acts that his fingers can do to your body are coming into effect as you start to shake beneath him. Your breathing is more ragged than ever and you pull as hard as you can at your restraints without caring if it'll hurt you later. The coil deep within your body starts getting tighter and tighter, readying itself to break and unfurl.

You open your mouth to let out a deep, long moan but right as the sound erupts out of your mouth and into existence, Jay pulls his fingers out of you and sits back, completely untouching you.

Your orgasm disappears in a snap and you groan out angrily.

“Okay what the fuck,” you sound angrier than you intended. 

“Can’t let you come like that. It’s too easy.” He looks at the bed and pushes past some of the toys until he finds one that breaks out that devilishly handsome smile that you love oh so much.

In his hand he’s holding a simple, small, white vibrator.

Now, vibrators aren’t your favorite and he’s well aware of this. You come too quickly and aren’t able to savor that sweet build up feeling of fire within your lower half, that numbness that overtakes the tips of your toes and makes you want to kick them straight into a wall. The fact that he picked this out of the box of other torturing devices means that he plans on making you come. A lot. And in a short period of time.

Upon realizing his intention you think about pleading with him to use something else, anything else. The tiredness behind your eyes creeps up slower than the night, but it does not slow its pace. You want to come. You want to make him come. And then you want to sleep wrapped up tightly in your boyfriend’s arms.

Jay turns the vibrator on and watches as it purrs to life in his hands. He strokes the length of it as if it were the back of a cat. Now, looking at you, he grins, showing his pearly white teeth and another wave of arousal washes over you. Power exuberates from every inch of his body as he saunters back over to you. A bead of sweat forms at your temple and slowly slides down past your cheekbone. It tickles and makes you shiver, but you don't take your eyes off Jay.

"Are you ready?" he says softly upon reaching the edge of the bed. Standing in between your legs, he waits for your response.

You sigh, "yes," and let the muscles in your legs relax.

Jay places the tip of the vibrator on your left thigh and you moan immediately at the touch, feeling the sensation creep up to your core. The vibrator stays in place for a few moments while Jay watches your expressions intently. His eyebrows are furrowed so deeply that they almost touch and his mouth is scrunched together and pushed to the side. This has become more than sexual pleasure.

This is a science experiment.

"How does it feel when I do this?" he queries and moves the vibrator slowly up your thigh and stops just before it touches your core.

"It feels...torturous." Your hips start to shake purely from lack of physical contact where you need it the most. You try to hold in your pouts, try to hold in your pleading, but if your clit goes any longer without getting relief you're going to lose your mind.

"Good." And then right as you're about to beg for him to touch you, the vibrator is thrust right on your clit with a strong unmoving pressure.

Your hips roll forward and you don't have time to think before you cry out and feel your orgasm come and go quicker than you can blink. The vibrations run deeply through your body and after waiting so long, you just couldn't hold on.

"Whoa. Record time." Jay smarts but keeps the vibrator on you.

As you come down it starts to feel uncomfortable. Overstimulation is not something you're able to have the patience or willpower for.

“You can keep going,” Jay encourages and increases the speed on the vibrator. You whimper and look at him anxiously as your whole body begins to tremble.

“Moan for me, baby. Don’t hide those pretty sounds from me.”

They’re not moans quite yet. It starts off as small gasps as your body desperately tries to adjust to the overstimulation, angry when it realizes it can’t. That’s when the tears prick your eyes. You try to be tough and hold on but you feel another orgasm being forced from your body and you cry out in pleasured agony.

Jay removes the vibrator mid orgasm and your muscles immediately collapse into the bed. Panting harder than a dog on a hot summer day, you truly hope that that was the sound he’s looking for.

“Hmmm...not quite…”

“Please, Jay. Let me help you come. Forget about the sound. Let's get you off so we can go back to sleep.” Your throat feels hoarse as you talk from lack of water or the intense screams and moans, you’re not sure. Perhaps a mixture of all of it. Either way, you’re tired and you wish you could help him, but this project seems like a lost cause.

“Rest for a second. I need to listen to something.” He moves quickly to his computer, putting his headphones on crooked and clicking away at the screen. Your body is too tired to watch what he’s doing.

A few moments pass before Jay stands up again and you notice a freshly lit cigarette in his hand.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I’ll untie you-” Jay pauses mid step and mid sentence and stares at the cigarette in his hand, quickly looking to your naked body, and then back at the cigarette.

"What's wrong?" You strain your head to try to meet his gaze but he's off in another world. His lips move as he mumbles lowly to himself, words incomprehensible to you from this far away. Taking a long drag from the cigarette, he holds in the smoke as he observes the cancer stick before walking closer to you. He’s sworn to quit so many times, but claims the nicotine helps him stay focused when he works on long projects. It’s not a favorable habit, but you just cannot deny how sexy he looks while taking a long drag from a cigarette and letting the smoke swirl out of his pretty lips. It fits his artistic rockstar image a little too well.

Finally you're able to catch: "that wouldn't be messed up...would it?"

"What wouldn't be messed up?" Annoyance is a nice way to put how you're feeling right now. You're just laying here, tied up and your boyfriend is only five feet away from you, completely ignoring your existence. Unfortunately he does this often; spacing out, talking to himself, unable to sense his surroundings. When it's music related it's admirable. When you're involved? Straight up annoying. But it’s even worse when the two are combined.

"I have...a crazy idea. Please let me know if it's too out there and we'll discard it immediately."

You gulp down what feels to be a big rock in your throat that doesn't want to be swallowed. His tone is cautious yet excited and he doesn't look you directly in the eyes but off to the side of your head.

"What is it?" You say slowly, wishing more than ever that you could sit up and talk to him face to face.

Jay brings his cigarette up in front of his face, his eyes concentrating hard on the object in front of him.

"I want to use the cigarette ash as a stimulant on you."

Immediately the first thing that comes to mind is 'what the actual fuck'. You've never heard of anyone using any part of cigarettes as a form of sexual pleasure. But then you let your mind breathe for a second and the idea sounds rather...arousing? Just the thought of Jay flicking his cigarette ash onto your body sounds so degrading and he usually doesn't dip in that direction sexually.

He's carefully watching your face now, looking for any sign that you're not on board with this.

You smile.

"Where on my body?" You say seductively. His eyes light up, that same sexual deviant smile back onto his face. Excitement is evident as his chest rises and falls at a quicker pace. And finally, finally, he walks towards you, that cigarette held loosely between his fingers.

His shadow casts over your midsection as he towers above you. One arm crosses his chest while his other arm, the one with the cigarette, rests on top. It looks like he's about to take another drag but stops himself just before it touches his lips.

"I was thinking...your nipples?"

Your mouth immediately starts to water and your legs involuntarily shift, wanting ever so badly to rub together. Suddenly you're hyper aware of how hard your nipples are. They're like little gumdrops resting on top of your breasts and when you close your eyes you can still feel the wetness of Jay's tongue as he swirled his tongue around them.

Most people use candle wax or ice cubes as nipple stimulants.

But then again, you and Jay aren't most people.

"Please. Do it." Eagerly, you roll your hips forward and jut your chest forward towards him. A deep hunger is rooted in his eyes as he takes a quick huff, blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling before climbing onto the bed. Your heart is beating fast and hard in your chest as you wait for him to make his next move.

Jay’s cock twitches back to life, a newfound surge of want coursing through his veins while your body reacts the same. He quickly checks to make sure his microphone is still on and then puts the cigarette between his lips. He gives himself a quick pump as he moves closer to your body.

Forget the cigarette ash, you think to yourself. You want him.

And he apparently wants you too.

Jay’s hands move expeditiously down the sides of your body, running over your hips and down your thighs as he positions himself between your legs. He uses the head of his cock to rub against your swollen clit, your hips bucking with the sudden contact. Unlike previously, Jay is in no mood to take his time. After rubbing up and down your folds a few times, he uses your slick as lubrication and promptly inserts himself into your hole. He grunts deeply as he bottoms out and you’re left gasping as your body adjusts to his size. Jay rests his chin on top of your head as he breathes heavily around the cigarette hanging crooked in his mouth, away from your hair. The smoke wafts around you and slightly burns your nostrils but you love it.

He’s addicted to cigarettes.

You’re addicted to him.

After giving himself a moment, Jay finally starts to move, rocking his hips slowly back and forth to generate some momentum. A deep moan gurgles from the back of his throat and you can see in his eyes how difficult it is for him to hold himself back.

The air in the room gets stuffy with the heat of your bodies mixed in with the smoke. It makes you both pant harder, faster.

“I can’t take it anymore,” Jay growls and sits back, his cock unfortunately slipping out of you. He takes your legs and sets your feet against his shoulders and realigns himself with your entrance. Without giving you both time to adjust, he slams deep within you, your body jolting in response as he hits your sensitive spot.

“Fuck!” He yells and quickens his pace, his cock relentlessly filling every inch of space within you. Small whimpers move past your lips and a fire lights behind Jay’s eyes.

“What was that? I can’t hear you?” As his hips continue to rock into you, he grabs the microphone off the top of the headboard and shoves it in your face. With his other hand he takes a drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side before leaning down, hovering the cigarette a few inches above one of your nipples.

You look up at him hopefully and you’re open to tell him it’s okay when he taps his pointer finger on top of the cigarette, gray ash tumbling down towards your body.

“Ah!” You exclaim as the ash hits the peak of your breast. The initial impact of the ash to your skin makes your body panic, completely unused to the sensation. But then, it feels erotic. The nerves in your nipples sing with pleasure and your back arches as the warmth sinks deeply into you. You watch as your breasts bounce with each thrust Jay gives you and the ash rolls down onto your chest.

He continues thrusting and taking drags from his cigarette despite looking winded and exhausted. The headboard bangs against the wall, mirroring the thunder still booming in the distance. Soft groans and moans fill the room until Jay pushes your legs closer to your face, going deeper inside of you.

“Dear god your pussy is just too good. You’re still so wet after everything else. Always wet for my cock aren’t you?” His thrusts are getting longer, sloppier.

“Always. I love your cock,” you exhaustedly whisper. You can feel that coil deep inside you wanting to unspring so badly and only Jay can get you there.

He takes a final drag from his cigarette and flicks the biggest chunk of ash towards your nipple. You moan out as it makes contact at the same time the tip of his cock kisses deeply against your cervix, a high pitched moan that makes your eyes roll backwards.

And then he presses his thumb on top of your nipple, smearing the ash on top of you and right as he does it he thrusts so hard and deeply into you and holds himself there.

“F-uh-uck!” You sputter out the mother of all moans as your orgasm rips through you making you see a bright flash of white.

“Oh shit!” Jay grunts and thick ropes of cum spill inside you.

You both take a moment to regain your breaths. Then Jay removes your legs from his shoulders, setting you down gently and fully removing himself from you. He moves to his desk and puts his cigarette butt into the ashtray and his microphone next to the keyboard. He takes a moment and places his fists behind his back right at his hip bones and leans back until a satisfying crack sounds out through the room.

Jay looks back at you with complete adoration in his eyes, a natural smile forming on his lips as he puckers them to give you an air kiss. Promptly untying you from your restraints, he rubs small circles into your wrists after he frees you, the pressure soothing your aching joints.

“I love you,” he mutters tenderly and places a kiss on top of your forehead.

“I love you too.” You smile.

He gets up and heads to the bathroom while you remain on the bed. You hear the bath turn on and run rapidly and the sound makes you feel the sleep wanting to pull you back in. You can't feel your thighs or any part of your lower half for that matter, but yet your muscles still tremble from the overwhelming aftermath of your multiple orgasms. Gazing upward, the white ceiling looks so dull above you and yet, somehow, comforting. Your mind instinctively tries to find pictures within the grooves but it proves to be too much work for your brain right now. So you go back to just staring absentmindedly. Jay is saying something from the bathroom but your brain is too tired to focus on what it was he was saying exactly. Body still trembling, you close your eyes and will for sleep to take you.

But then hands are on your body, lifting your head off the pillow. And then you're being carried, your body feeling weightless. You groan out for your bed, wanting nothing more than to be completely buried in blankets as sleep overcomes you.

The bathroom light has been dimmed and some of your favorite scented candles are lit on the counter. An aroma of lemon and rose petals waft throughout the room. You breathe in deeply through your nose and sigh out of your mouth, your body melting in your boyfriend's arms.

Jay gently places your feet on the mat in front of the freestanding soaking bathtub. There's mountains of bubbles already rising on top of the water and you can't wait to sink down into it.

Jay uses his hand to grip your elbow, guiding you as you put one foot in the water and then the other.

You sit up front where the faucet is dumping soothing warm water. You put your hands together and let the stream pool into your palms and run over your skin. This is total bliss and your aching muscles begin to relax happily.

Water splashes behind you and you turn around to see Jay getting into the bath as well. You smile at him before turning back around and picking up a handful of bubbles.

"What shampoo do you want? The good smelly one or the deep clean one?" Jay holds both bottles in either hand, looking back and forth between the two.

You look back at him and tiredly try to decide. The “good smelly one” is peach while the deep cleaning one is a tea tree extract.

"Would it be weird if I combined both? It honestly might be really good." He awaits your input.

"Both are fine." You nod your head and turn back to the front. You turn off the water and lay your arms over both edges of the tub.

Gentle hands run down your hair from the top of your head down to the tips before returning to your scalp. His fingers massage the shampoos into your head and a low wistful grumble escapes your throat. You feel the shampoo lathering in your hair and the way Jay's fingers move with purpose has you closing your eyes in pure bliss. He uses the pads of his fingers to massage deeply into your skull, nearly lulling you to sleep.

His hands leave your hair and you hear the clicking of another cap opening and then it clicks shut a moment after. His hands are back on your body but this time they're on your shoulders. A strong lavender smell enters your nostrils and it dawns on you that he's massaging your soothing body wash into your skin.

It's silent in the bathroom except for the small droplets of water tinkling from the faucet into the tub. It's not an eerie silence, it's almost tranquil.

You spend a bit more time in the bathtub together. Jay completely taking care of you to wash off every trace of cigarette ash that was left on your body. His hands soothingly rub alongst every inch of your body.

“I’m ready to get out,” you sigh. You’re leaning against Jay’s chest, his bare skin comforting against your own, “before I completely fall asleep in here.”

“Okay. Let me get out first and grab your towel.” He attentively lifts your body forward to give himself some room to emerge from the bath. Water runs off his body and onto the tile floor as he crosses the room for his towel first. You pull the drain plug in the bath and watch as a tiny whirlpool appears.

After aggressively rubbing the towel in his hair, Jay wraps it around his waist to cover himself, his hair looking static as it sticks out in every which way. He grabs you a fresh towel from the cupboard, the fluffy white one you usually save for special self care relaxation days.

Padding his way back over to you, he drapes the white towel in both of his arms and holds it out, waiting to envelope you in it once you step out.

You stand up slowly, clutching the edges of the tub as you push yourself up. Your legs are still quite shaky. For the most part they still feel pretty numb. You lift one leg up carefully and find your footing on the tile before gingerly taking out your other leg. Jay wraps you tightly in the soft towel that could honestly be a blanket if one chose to do so. You sigh into it, your muscles relaxing as Jay dries you off.

“Let’s get you to bed. We can watch a movie.” After he says it, Jay pauses to look at you. Afraid that something is on your face, your hand touches your cheek questionably. He reaches up and moves his hand under yours so that he’s cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing softly against your cheekbone.

“I love you,” he says softly before leaning in and kissing your lips. As soon as your lips touch it feels like you’re melting into him all over again. And all too soon, the kiss is over.

Swiftly, he picks you up bridal style and carries you to bed as you giggle and cling to his neck. He lightly places you back onto the bed and pulls back the covers and quickly throws them over your body once you’re comfortable. Jay adjusts your pillow to make sure your head stays straight and makes sure every one of your toes is snuggled and warm before handing you the TV remote and then walking towards the door.

“What snack do you want?” He calls from the door frame, his hand lightly brushing against the soft pastel yellow paint.

“Surprise me!” You call as you flip through the different genre suggestions, your brain not even registering what the titles are.

After giving up and picking a random movie, Jay walks in with some water bottles and a bag of pretzels and climbs into bed next to you.

“Don’t you want to get back to your music?” You inquire as you grab a handful of pretzels. He gets himself comfortable next to you by adjusting his pillow, grabbing a fistful of pretzels himself once he’s done.

“Nah. That can wait. I just want to be here with you.” He smiles before popping a piece of the tasty snack into his mouth.

Your heart swells knowing how much he wants to be back in that chair working his magic. Normally you couldn’t drag him away from that stupid computer. So you don’t push it and snuggle in deeper next to him, letting your head fall against his shoulder.

Together you munch away, forgetting about sleep entirely, and listening as the thunder grumbles in the distance.

a/n: thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed :] if you did please reblog and leave a comment!

♡ masterlist

© all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, translate, or repost. jayparked 09/05/24

[lilislegacy]

I really wish we could get a scene where Percy reaches his breaking point and uses all his abilities at once. I want to see a proper earthquake. I want to see what he can do with his control over storms. Like, I want to see him move mountains - literally move mountains - to take care of business. Maybe the world is about to end. Maybe Annabeth is in danger. Maybe Estelle is in danger. Maybe his own children are in danger. There are several things that could make him so angry and scared that his limits shatter.

Children of Poseidon, even demigods, are often referred to as monsters. Because like the sea, they are brutal and merciless. And Poseidon has implied that Percy has surpassed every hero he’s ever seen, even hercules, when it comes to his capabilities and determination. Leo and Hazel have said you can physically feel and see his power, even if he’s not doing anything. I want to see Percy really tap into the godly part of him. I want him to send his enemies running for their mommies. And I want to read it from someone else’s point of view. Someone who can describe what it really looks and feels like.

Becasue imagine the most frightening, intimidating man you’ve even seen - his wolffish glare, embodied by his sharp features, frightening enough to paralyze you in fear - flying straight towards you on an angry black pegasus. Hundreds of other angry pegasi fan out on either side of him, looking like something out of a mythical nightmare. Then a dark, gigantic wave spanning several miles, taller than mountains, rises behind him. It’s towering over the valleys and hills, casting a shadow over the land, and coming right towards you, ready to demolish and drown every semblance of your existence. Then all of a sudden the entire sky is dark and the air is cold, and the storm hits you with unforgiving force. The brutal winds and sharp cold rain is so strong that you can barely stand. The booming cracks of thunder make your ears ring, and the blinding bolts of lightning light up the sky like electricity is at war with itself. And now… now the entire earth is shaking. The ground is rumbling beneath you so violently that every part of your body is painfully trembling, your teeth chattering and eyes bouncing. The earth around you is splitting into wide chasms, boulders tumbling and tress falling. Oh also a fucking volcano just blew up. It’s suddenly hard to breath as rock and dirt rain down on you, and you’re about to be burned and buried by miles worth of molten ash. Pompeii part 2, brought to you by Perseus Jackson.

Only this is 10x worse, because every natural element is out for your complete and utter destruction.

Because Percy controls all of that. And if he hits his breaking point, there’s no telling what he could do if he set his mind to it.

[whorrorbellee]

Beautiful Boy

aemond targaryen x strong!reader

chapter two chapter three

"You look better like this," he says, his voice low and raspy.

You flinch, swatting his hand away from your face. He runs his hand over your cheek and then suddenly your head is knocked back into another direction, your cheeks swells. Without warning, he grabs a fist full of your hair, your chin rises upwards.

You find yourself in the RedKeep, keeping the bed warm for the one eyed prince.

Warnings: violence, fingering?afab reader, only description is long dark hair, Starvation. Stockholm syndrome(eventual)cnc,dub con,sa

Word count: 7k

There's a pregnant pause and then a soft gurgling noise. A burning ash smell fills the air in the expanse of the riverlands, you stay nestled between the walls of the keep, smoke rises from the grounds, a loud marching of what you can only hope is the Strong soldiers that come to save the few around Harrenhal. Maybe the Castle was cursed as people believed it to be. The death toll had only added up after Harren Black and his sons had withered away in the dragonfire. First the attack from Daemon and his army, then the Targaryens had only abandoned Harrenhal is such fleeting moments, You believed there was more death to come. Only years had passed since your brother and fathers death when you were Two and Ten, Larys had only hidden you away after he was confirmed heir for Harrenhal after Lord Simon Strong (your great Uncle) would pass. 

How you wish he could see the destruction of his hold after he had executed your Family for treason ,although the castle had been withering away under the rain for years. Lary’s mendacious nature had you squirming under his tend, knowing he would set you with a match that would only make your skin crawl, when the time had come. 

The stench of Dragon fire comes closer, and you slide down the cool wet stone wall of Harrenhal, hand over your mouth, you sweep the length of your dress closer to your body, you find yourself in a precarious situation, wedged into the many nooks the building had to offer. You gaze down at the mossy grass, the sky darkens in a cloak of ash and you almost believe it to be over, then the rainfall had come, sweeping the castle into a darker shade, it washed the blood away from the walls. 

Aemond stood at the edge of the ruins, His lone eye surveying the wreckage that stood before him. The aftermath of dragon fire had been a sight to behold, even after he had witnessed it so many times. His eye catches upon a lone figure in the distance; close to the edge of the keep upon the mountain, hidden away just out of sight, so intriguing. A flash of a Light green gown, rustling against the stone brick after a crack of lighting befell the castle. The sight had provoked him after bearing witness to the slaughter of all who laid here at Harrenhal. 

His long fingers traced the hilt of his dagger, he drew it close to his body as stalked towards the keep, passing the rubble and cadavers that lay upon the bloodied grass. He moved silently, his eye drawing in on his prey, he was a Predator after all. Before you knew it you were unknowingly cornered, He came to the nook where you had hid yourself, “come out, I know you're there,” He called out, voice low and dark. 

You clench your hand closer to your face, squeezing over your nose to still your breathing, fingers digging into flesh. It wasn't safe for you to come out, not yet. Not when you were unsure of who had called for you.You sniffled, raindrops running down your face. 

Aemond found his patience wearing thin. He could hear your shallow breaths, heart so loud he was sure he could hear the beating rhythm of your heartbeat thump against your ribcage. The tension builded in the air;thick and stuffy. He steps closer to the nook, your eyes widening as his boots crunched against what was left of the desecrated building. 

“I won’t ask again,” He said, Lifting his dagger away from his body, “Come out, or I will do it myself. I doubt you will enjoy that very much.”

You rise slowly at his words, feeling like a fresh doe on your legs, you peek your head round the corner. His eyes meet yours, gaze unwavering as you reveal yourself. Your eyebrow raises in a piqued interest and you slowly slide yourself out the nook you had buried yourself against. He was not a Member of the strong army, But he wasn't part of the queens.

“The king's army?” You sigh, “Daemon isn't here, they've left in the midst of your war” Your eyes gaze upon his face, meeting the horrific scar that ran from his brow to the bottom of his cheekbone, You feel his strong gaze on your own face, his lone eye roaming over your figure, you wonder if he remembers your watchful eye at the Red Keep, those years ago as he trained with a sword. 

Aemoned chuckled softly, he stepped closer towards your form, dagger clutched in his right hand as he assessed you. He could see the slight tremble in your form, a small inclination of fear within your eyes. “You’re observant, I’ll give you that,” His tone was cool and neutral. He takes another step forward, muscles flexing under his leather as he raises the blade to your chin, tilting your face to meet his eye. 

“I’m flattered, but it doesn't take a genius to know that this, is your blood-shed.” You feel the edge of the blade against your skin, it's cool in the humidity of the storm, Your hands run along the frills of your soft cotton dress, now wet. 

“You're a smart one, are you?”He chuckles dryly, he moves the dagger away from your chin, it slides down the expanse of your neck, hanging around your collar bones for a moment too long. “Mouthy too.” He steps even closer, body heat radiating off him like Hot fire on a cold day. “That’ll get you in trouble” 

“And yet I'm the last standing amongst this battlefield”. You pull away from his danger, swinging your body in the direction of the surrounding walls. “Though there wasn't much left to stand”

Aemonds lips curl into a smirk. “Cocky too”, He muses. He sheaths his dagger back into the scabbard, it makes you feel some sense of disappointment to be known now as not a threat. “You’re not wrong” he concedes, the scent of ash and fire fills the air as he chases your body with his own. “But don't forget, you are alive because i allow it”

You smirk, feet stepping over bodies and slabs of stone from the wreckage “well, I suppose it's time for me to leave, It was wonderful meeting you.” You nod your head. 

Aemond’s eyes widened in surprise as you began to descend the hill, his hand shooting out to grab your arm, grip firm and bruising. “Oh no, you’re not going anywhere” He commands with irritation, he spins you around forcing your back into the mossy stone wall, leaning in close trapping you against himself “I’m not done with you”

“Gosh, men really are all the same. You think I have to listen to your orders because you believe you hold more power over me? You may be a prince but i won't take an order from one who's lost an eye to a child”

Aemond's face enrages at your words as you smirk. His grip on your arm only grows tighter, and you struggle to breathe through the pain,His eye narrowed at your insolence. 

“Watch your tongue or i'll have it” He pushes you further against the wall, body flush against yours, his breath warms as he speaks. “I don't take kindly to being disrespected like that, especially not by mouthy wenches like you.” 

You laugh in his grip, “Mouthy wench? If my brother was dead I'd be set to inherit the very ground you stand on” you sigh, eyes gazing away from him to look upon the grounds. “To bad you torched it ”

His eye widens at the revelation, grip tightening even further, you're surprised you can still feel your hand. He leans in closer, face mere inches from your own, “You’re a highborn?” He studies your face for an inkling of a lie, but only truth prevails. “And yet, you're hiding in the ruins like a commoner” He mocks.

“Only because you slaughtered my family and army, Did my brother Lary’s Strong give you the order?” You almost wince as you say his name, it had been so long since you had seen your brother, now he was a Lord working under the new king. 

His gaze hardens at the mention of Lary’s, eyes filled with spite. “I'm not a lapdog, I'm the prince. And yet you speak with such disdain for your own brother, why?” he queries. 

You smooth back your hair, Aemond steps back finally giving you room to breathe. “He wishes to marry me off to the next man he can, I suppose I'm trouble for him.” 

“Marry you off, eh?” there's a hint of a smirk on his face, you watch as his white hair blows against the wind. “Who does your brother think is worthy for your hand”

You shrug, hands wrapping against your body. “It's not he who has to be worthy, But I, I'm sure he would sell me to a Peasant farmer if he could, for free no less.” you sneer at the thought, the smell of sweat and shit. 

Aemonds chuckles darkly at your words, his eye roams over the soft features of your face. He reaches to brush a strand of dark hair behind your ear. You flinch. The sentiment is oddly gentle in comparison to the mere moments ago where he had held a dagger against your jugular. 

“Fiery, most Highborn girls would throw themself at the opportunity to marry a prince” he mumbles “and yet you resist?”

“Resist? You act as though you haven't killed my family and destroyed everything I have ever known, all because of the boy who took your eye, the one you accuse of being a bastard son to my brother!” you grit your teeth together in destain. “and yet you ask for my hand? As what? A prize? Or a warning to the people that resist you?” 

His eyes darken, jaw clenching at your words, he grabs you by your shoulders forcing you to look him in the eye, his touch feels like fire, itchy and spreads up into a red heat across your cheeks. “You think this is about revenge? This war is more than you and your family” His grip tightens, Face mere inches away from yours. “Besides, I have no interest in taking a spoiled, defiant women as my wife”

“Then let me go” You spit.

He glares at you with rage, “You think it's that easy?” His voice is laced with sarcasm, “just let you go, You think I can simply let you go after all this?” he pauses as he steps closer to you. 

“You won't wed me, you won't kill me, you won't let me go, what do you want with me? To make me a slave? A prisoner?” 

"A slave? A prisoner?" he repeated, his voice low. "No, nothing so cruel." He leaned closer, his body now fully pressed against yours, the heat of him almost burning through your clothes. "I have much more... interesting use in mind for you"

“Gods, you disgust me”

"Oh, do I now?" he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "And yet, here you are, trembling under my touch. Tell me, is it fear that makes your heart race?" 

“It is my hatred for you” you scoff.

"Your hatred, is it?" he said, his fingers tracing a path down your collarbone. " I can almost feel the heat of it, the fire burning inside of you." He leaned in again, his breath hot against your ear. "But fire can be tamed, just like a dragon.”

“I’d rather die than let you touch me”,you push your weight on to him, he eases giving you enough room to sprint for the gates; an exit. You nearly trip against your feet as you run. 

He curses, hand on his dagger as he runs after you, his longer legs catching up, he pulls you into a bruising grip. Dagger against your throat. Aemond chuckles as you struggle.

“You thought you could escape me, did you?" he said, his breath hot against your ear. "How naive of you." He steers you towards the open field, unbecomered by wreckage. 

“Tegon, Vhager,Tegon!” (land), Aemond spits out. 

There is a large flapping of wings, The sound claps loudly like a Bomb exploding, you hide your face in your hands as air and dirt rises into your face, The great dragon lands, dirt and stone crumbling under its feet from the weight. He tightens his grip on your arm, pulling you closer to the dragon that has landed before them. The beast roars, its scales glinting in the sunlight.

"Now behave yourself. We're going for a little ride."

"What! No" You kick your feet into the dirt, Struggling in his grip, nails scratching at your attacker. 

Aemond grits his teeth at the feel of your nails on his skin, the sharp pain causing him to tighten his grip on you even more. "Stop struggling!" he snaps, "You're only making this harder for yourself."He forcibly pushes you forward, towards the dragon, dust rising as your feet scrape along the floor. "Get on Vhagar,"

“Please, No, I beg you, let me go” 

“Please no,” he pouts mockingly. “you’re coming with me whether you want to or not.”he pulls you closer to Vhager, heat radiates of her scales, “Climb, or i'll throw you over the back myself” 

You shake your head at his command. He grits his teeth. Aemond's patience was wearing thin, yet again. He let out a frustrated growl, his hand tightening around your arm to the point of pain. You yelp. "You're testing my limits, you little wench," he snarled. "Get on. The. Dragon. Now!"

He pushed you closer to the Vhager, her eyes watching you closely, huffing billows of smoke out her nose, He almost shoved you up her side "I won't tell you again."

“No, I won't go with you!”

He raises his other hand and grabs your hair, giving it a sharp tug, you yelp at the pain,hot heat on your scalp, you look back at him. His nostrils flaring."That's it," he snaps, his voice low and dangerous. "You're leaving me no choice." He grabs you around the waist and hoists you up onto the dragon's back, ignoring your protests.

“Fuck you” you spit at him. He climbs onto the dragon, his form pressed tight against your back, you flex your shoulders, flinching away as his arm grabs around your wrists.

“Hold on tight” His breath is hot on your neck.

“Please just let me go” Aemond smirked as he easily bound your wrists together with the cord, securing your hands in front of you.

"Oh, I doubt that very much," he said, his voice low and amused. "You've proven to be quite the disobedient little wench." He pulled you against him, his chest pressed firmly against your back. "No, I think it's best if I keep you bound and under my control." Your eyes widen.

“Gods, you’re a whore” 

“naejot se jēdar, Vhagar” (to the sky) The dragon's wings beat powerfully as they took to the air, the wind whipping around you both. Ground growing distant below them. He chuckles at your insult. “I might have to gag you as well if you keep up with that language” 

Your eyebrows raise at his words, “you wouldn't dare!”

"Oh, wouldn't I?" he said, his voice a low growl.His hands slid up your body, his touch almost possessive. "Perhaps a strip of cloth over your pretty little mouth might help you keep that sharp tongue under control or maybe something else~" He pulls your chin to look up at him.

You shake at his words, “I wouldn't touch you if you were the last man in this realm” you bite your tongue “I'd rather throw myself from this dragon” Aemond's fingers dig into your skin. He chuckled darkly, chest rumbling against your back.

 "Oh,you have quite the mouth on you, don't you?"His tone mocking. "Throw yourself from this dragon? What a shame that would be. All those beautiful bones and curves dashed against the ground." He ran his fingers through your wet hair, his touch almost gentle. "But I wouldn't let that happen."

It feels like mere hours, you look towards the open skies, the sight of Kings Landing coming to view as you part from the storm. Aemonds eye follows your gaze as you notice the red keep come into view, the sight blurred from your defiant tears. Vhagar’s great wings clap against the air as they begin their descent into the pit. You begin to understand the gravity of your situation. 

Vhagar lands, dust settling mere moments afterwards, Aemond climbs off the dragon pulling you with him. The cord only employs extra security of your restraint. Your wrists pull against the cord only tightening the harsh rope. Your gaze hardens as you stare at him, hiccuping as tears run down your face. Without warning his hoists you up into his arms, throwing you over his shoulders. 

You thrash around, his hold still firm ignoring your wiggling. He carries on down different hallways, each step closer to the throne room. “One eyed Cunt” you whisper. He stills, hands gripping firmly at your flesh. Growling as the knights open the door to the great hall.

“Now be good and keep that mouth shut” Aemond shrugs you off his shoulder letting you hit the floor, your eyes gaze up at the Iron Throne, swords melted down to form a horrid sight, Aegon sits upon it drunkenly "Brother!" he slurs, watching your body slumped on the ground of the castle" you've brought me a gift?"

Aemond grimaces at his brother's drunken state,his foot nudging you to stand. Face a picture of disgust, “Not exactly a gift My grace, she's mouthy one, needs a firm hand”

Aegon let out a chuckle, his eyes raking over your body. "she'll do nicely," he slurred.You shake your head at his words, remembering how his eyes used to scour your body when you were younger.

“No, Please.Anybody but him” You look up at Aemond from your knees, Aemond's eye watches you, a flicker of satisfaction in his gaze seeing you squirm and panic.

Aegon chuckled again, his gaze never leaving your body. He motioned for Aemond to bring you closer. "Don't worry" Aegon said, his voice thick with drunken desire. "I'll be gentle."

You shake your head, tears only gathering against your waterline. “Please! I’ll do anything not to be owned by him” You grasp Aemonds legs in your hand, pawing at the material, he looks down upon you seeing you beg. Aemonds lips curl at your obvious desperation, revelling in your pleads. He glances at his brother, his eye mocking."Oh, she's quite the pleader, isn't she?" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Aegon let out a scoff, his gaze still fixated on you. "Such a lovely little wench," he mutters.

Aemond leaned down, his face just above yours. Hand gripping the back of your hair, pulling you up to look at him. "Anything, hm? How desperate are you, darling?"

you begin to sob at his words "Anything, please" a meer moments ago you would have found yourself enraged by begging for a man. 

Aegon turns his head towards you, he mutters "Accept me as your king and Aemond can have his way with you, im sure theres plenty whores who would love to take my cock"

Aemond smirks at his brother’s response, Watching you sob beneath him, He pulls your hair till you stand, Now a tangled mess. His eye flickering with mockery. "Go ahead, then. Accept my brother as your king. Beg him like the desperate little wench you are."

You bow, taking a knee in front of the throne, “I~”there's a hiccup,“I accept Aegon as the true king of the seven kingdoms” You look up at Aegon, He smiles in satisfaction. his gaze locked on you as you knelt before him. He raised his goblet in mockery, his expression pleased.

"There you have it, brother," he slurred. "She's all yours." He knocks back the goblet, red wine running down his pale face.

Aemond smirks, his hand still gripping your hair tightly,he gestures for you to stand, releasing the grip on your hair. “My Grace, where is Lord Lary’s Strong?”

“Probably sulking somewhere, why?” He waves his Goblet in the air awaiting for it to be filled by a servant. “`Why?” 

“This is his sister” 

Aegon’s eyes fall down on you,he raises an eyebrow, you think about how horrible you must look, stained with ash and mud. Hair a wet mess from the rain. He cackles. “Sister? And yet she is here before us like an insolent pup. It runs in the family, I say.”

“I’m glad we have common ground for I also hate my Impudent brother, he's always been a stuck up man”

Aegon chuckles, “I'm sure you will be glad to see him then, i can't wait to see his face when he sees his little sister bound at our mercy”

You pull against your restraints once more “I’m not exactly precious material, I'm sure when he sees me in your Kinslayer cunt hands he'll be more than happy”, Aemonds hand clasps tightly around your mouth to silence you, you whine. His face mere inches from yours again, you wonder if he gets off on this.

"Watch your tongue" he growls,"Insulting me will only make things worse for you."

Aegon chuckled, clearly "I have to admit," he said, his words dripping in eagerness. "You're more fiery than I expected."

The wait seemed to drag on for an eternity. Aemond keeping his hand firmly over your mouth, grip unrelenting, silencing your protests. Eventually, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall, and the guard returned, leading Larys Strong into the throne room, his expression stern and composed despite the circumstances, he hobbled on his crutch. Aemond's smirk widened at the sight. " Lord Larys Strong," he taunted.

Larys, turns to aegon nodding his head “My king”

Aemond smirks, his hand still tight on your mouth you can taste his sweat,"Ah, Larys Strong," Aegon said, a smirk on his face. "Your sister here has been quite a delightful addition to our court."

Larys' gaze flicked to you, his usual stoic expression, Not a flicker of concern crossed his face. "Sister," he said, his voice cold. "What have you gotten yourself into now?" 

Aemonds hand releases your mouth and you take a deep breath in, raing your eyebrows “What have i gotten myself into?”You point to yourself,  “I've been kidnapped” 

Larys looks right through you, turning his head “By whom?” 

You shake your head at him, lips pursed “By Whom? Who do I stand with now? Bound? Taken out of my own home after it had become a wreckage!”

His eyes narrow in on Aemond, and then he laughs, “ And what do you plan to do with my sister?” 

"What's it to you, Larys?" Aemond says "Your sister is in my hands now, and i can do whatever i with please with her, i'm sure you'll be glad to not have her in your keep" 

Lary shrugs, his hand gripping his staff, “Do whatever you want with her, Though I beg of you to take her hand, a Strong and a Targaryen would make a fine match" Larys utters , he limps away leaving you to your kidnapper.

You gasp, shocked at Larys' casual dismissal of you. Aegon chuckles, taking another drink from his goblet. "How thoughtful of him to think so highly of your value." he said, his tone mocking. 

Your eyes well up at the sight of him leaving knowing it was your last chance to leave his hands,You think quickly. Jabbing an elbow into Aemond’s side and making a run for it. But he had played this game before with you, he grabs at your arm, bringing you back into his chest. “The more you struggle the worse it’ll be for you”you kick your feet at the stone.

Aemond drags you out of the throne room, his grip on your wrists firm and unyielding. He leads you down the corridors of the Red Keep, his stride long and purposeful.

You try to struggle and pull away, but his grip is too strong, and he effortlessly pulls you along.

“Where are we going?” 

Aemond casts a glance over his shoulder at you, his smile widening at your question.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he says, his voice dripping with poison.

He continues leading you down the halls of the castle, passing by guards and servants who give you curious looks. Soon, you find yourself in a part of the castle you're unfamiliar with. 

“The dungeons?” Your boots dig into the stone floor trying to pull yourself from his grasp, but he's merely too strong.

His smirk widens, eye glinting with dark amusement. "Very observant of you" he ridicules.

He leads you down a set of stone stairs, and the smell of damp stone and confinement becomes more intense. The air grows colder, and you find yourself in the dimly lit dungeons of the Red Keep. You shudder as you pass men’s intrepid eyes and womens weary faces  “so you do want to take me as a prisoner, and what leave me to rot till im begging for you?”

Aemond laughs at your words, his grip still firm on your wrists. He stops in front of a cell and pushes the door open. He shoves you into the cell and locks the door behind you, leaving you in the cold, damp darkness. He leaves without saying a word.

You sit there for what feels like hours, the only sound being the occasional clanking of chains and the faint cries from the other prisoners. You shiver in the cold, your knees to your chest, mind racing. Suddenly, you hear footsteps coming down the corridor. The light sound of boots on stone, and your heart starts to pound. Wondering whether he had come back already, you hear the drip of moisture from the stone ceiling.The footsteps draw closer, and you watch anxiously as a guard stands in front of your cell, followed by Aemond, who stands behind him, a smirk on his face. The guard unlocks the cell, and Aemond strides in, leaning against the wall. "Get up," he orders, his eye locked on you. You rise slowly with stiff legs. 

Aemond looks you up and down, his gaze hungry and predatory. "There, that's better," he says, his voice low. He steps closer to you, cornering you against the wall. His hand rises to your face, his fingers brushing against your cheek, you wretch your head back to avoid his touch.

"You look... messy," he says, his tone almost cruel. "Unkempt hair, dirt on your face. Not exactly a pretty picture" He leans in closer, his breath hot against your bare neck and then he turns suddenly, grabbing your wrists in his hands taking you out of the cell, "and clearly in need of a bath." 

Aemond leads you through a door and into what you only assume is his chamber, the scent of rosewater hangs in the air. In the centre of the room, a large steel tub is filled with steaming water. He pushes you towards the tub, his gaze dark and possessive. "Strip," he demands, his voice harsh and commanding. 

“Sorry?”

Aemond's eye narrows, "You heard me," he snaps, his voice cold. "Strip. Now."

He leans against the wall, watching you with an intensity that makes your skin shiver.

“Can you atleast turn?” You ask, biting your lip.

“No” 

You bite back a snarl and turn your back, Unlacing your dress quickly and then pulling off any undergarments. Aemond watches you intently, his eyes cutting into your back,

Your nipples harden at the chill in the air. Once you're completely undressed, he steps closer to you, his hand brushing against your bare shoulder. "Get in," he orders.

You sink into the hot water, feeling your muscles relax instantly, the smells of oils fill your nose but the knowledge that Aemond is watching you makes you feel uncomfortable, you pull your knees to your chest, wet hair surrounding your body. 

He moves closer, pulling up a stool, eye fixed on your frame. He reaches out a hand, running his fingers through a strand of wet hair that has fallen across your face. "You look better like this," he says, his voice low and raspy.

You flinch, swatting his hand away from your face. He runs his hand over your cheek and then suddenly your head is knocked back into another direction, your cheeks swells. Without warning, he grabs a fistfull of your hair, your chin rises upwards. 

“Don't test me, you're in my possession now. I can touch you however i please” He lets go of your hair, the back of his hand tracing the cheek he had just hit. 

Aemond stands up, grabbing a bar of lye soap and a cloth from a nearby table. He kneels down beside the bathtub, dunking the cloth into the water, and then lathering it up with the soap.He begins to slowly and methodically wash your body, his touch firm but surprisingly gentle. His eye watches your every reaction, taking in every shiver and flinch. You stare straight ahead. 

Aemond finishes washing your back and then moves to your legs, his hand gliding up your thigh, his touch sending shivers through your body. He pauses, his eye flicking to your face, his expression hard. "Do you trust me?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“No”

Aemond chuckles at your response, his smirk returning. "I didn't expect you to," he says, his tone mocking.

He runs the cloth over your legs, his hand moving higher, gliding up your inner thigh. His other hand snakes round your chest, moving to your shoulder, pinning you against the side of the tub.

“Stop!” you push against his hand but it only grips tighter against your shoulder, you feel the blood rush to the spot his fingers press into.

"I don't think so," he says.

His hand moves higher, and his fingers brush against the sensitive flesh between your legs. He looks at your expression, watching your face for any sign of fear or pleasure. You struggle against his grip, but it's useless, his strength is much greater than yours, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your skin.

“Please stop,” you cry out.

His hand continues to move slowly, his touch becoming more intimate.

Aemond looks at you with mock sympathy. "Please stop?" he repeats, his tone drenched in sarcasm. "You're so sweet when you beg like that." His grip on your shoulder tightens even further, and his hand moves higher, brushing against your most sensitive spot. "But I'm not going to stop," he says, his voice low and commanding.

He continues to move his hand slowly, his thumb pressing against you in a way that makes you gasp, you spite yourself. His eye is fixed on your face, watching your reactions closely.

"You might as well give in," he says, his voice soft and persuasive. "It will make things so much easier for you." 

His hand moves again, stroking you in a way that sends ripples of pleasure through your body, despite your attempts to resist. His body is fully pressed against yours now, his chest against your back, his breath hot on your neck. You struggle in his touch, holding back a moan. His hand from your shoulder moves to clasp around your neck. 

His hand moves faster now, his fingers and palm working in tandem to bring you to the edge. His other hand grips your throat, holding you in place, as he continues his assault on your senses. You try to hold back, biting back moans. He grins in your efforts, fingers working your clit faster, You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and Aemond can tell. His hand moves even faster, driving you towards the peak of ecstasy. “Just let go” he whispers against your neck.

“No!” you whine.

"Just let it happen.", it drives you to the brink of insanity, and you don't think you can hold back anymore, his thumb brushes against you, and everything you had been avoiding snaps, he feels you squirm underneath him, teary eyed, silent scream. He lets out a satisfied laugh. Fingers still moving against your skin, it begins to feel like too much. 

“Too much, please”

Aemond's hand finally slows, his touch becoming gentler as you come down from your high. He pulls away, standing up and watching you with a smug grin on his face, his fingers run against your closed mouth. “Open”

You shake your head at him, put his fingers into your mouth anyway, you gag, he laughs at the sound and pushes further into your mouth anyway, drool pools at the side of your mouth, he releases you with a wet pop and you slump into the side of the bath, watching his next move.

His hand moves down your neck, his fingers tracing over your collarbone, his touch leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake. “Get dressed” he points to the clothes horse with a new gown on it laid out for you. 

He watches you stand and dry yourself with a cloth, Aemond watches you dress your back turning as you try to lace your dress together, he grabs your shoulders and makes quick work of pulling the string tighter,watching as you gasp for air you feel like you can barely breathe. Ribs collapsing in on themself. 

“Back to the dungeon then?’

He nods, Leading you back down to the dungeon. Through winding hallways. You reach the room you were once in. You stumble forward, Aemond shuts the cell door, the clanging echoing against the walls of your cell, he leaves you, room barren apart from the cot in the corner. You sit on the Cot, it feels as though the walls are closing in on you. You try to calm your breathing, but the realisation of what Aemond had done hits you more than anything. He had pulled pleasure apart from your body with ease. 

The hours pass slowly, you try to sleep but all you can do is toss on the straw mattress, by morning a guard throws a piece of bread in your cell. It hits the dirty floor, brown mud and flys encasing it, you don't eat it. And then more hours pass and the same thing happens, you chew at your nails. The candles burn slowly, a fly buzzes, the smells of sweat and dirt closes in on you. 

It feels like minutes and days, time is all muddled up, you’re asleep one moment and the next your fingers are encased with dirt and blood, people shout out and cry. The candles get replaced. You haven't spoken in so long, eating hasn't even crossed your mind yet takes toll on your body, you begin to dream of twisting shadows and watery lands, cities beneath the ocean, a skeleton pierced with a sword through the eye. 

It feels like months have passed, and you believe yourself to be going mad, the isolation has turned your thoughts wild, your beginning to lose your grip or reality, you pray to the old gods, begging on your knees to the guards who pass by, but the days pass as usual. 

You hook your hands around the rusted prison, reaching a hand out to still the guard making his rounds, he turns to you. He stops in his tracks, eyeing you cautiously."What do you want?" he asks, his voice gruff and filled with irritation.

Your throat feels raw and scratchy as you try to talk, only coming out in quiet whispers “please,I~ need” your throat feels like sand. 

The guard shakes his head and continues on his rounds, ignoring your pleas. You're left alone once again, tears prick at your eyes as you sink into the thin mattress, you wail.

The loneliness and despair seem to close in around you, suffocating you.

More weeks pass and you barely move in your cot, bloodied fingers tracing the wall. There's a set of footsteps that stop outside your cell, candle light casting a shadow on to the wall, it pulls you out of your daze. 

You sigh, the shadow moves closer to your cell, face obscured by the darkness. “Are you still alive there?” it is but a whisper, low and soft.

“Yes” you mutter, you shit in your cot, gazing up at the figure. 

“You dont look like you've eaten much” they peer down at you, the tight dress now hangs off your shoulder. You sit up. 

The man pushes back the hood of his cloak, uncovering his face, his hair bright white. You can see that he's wearing an eyepatch over one eye, and his expression is unreadable.

He looks at you for a moment, his gaze taking in your dishevelled, malnourished appearance.

“Aemond” you whisper, your voice crackles. 

His face softens, hand reaching through the bars to grab at your hand, you nearly flinch at the contact. He pauses, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Easy," he whispers, his voice low and soothing. "I'm not going to hurt you." 

You gaze up at him, he pulls out a key from under his cloak, unlocking the door.He steps inside. Standing there for a moment, his gaze fixed on you as you look up at him. "Can you stand?" he asks, his voice low and gentle.

You nod, Feeling like a newly born doe as you struggle to stand, legs buckling from under yourself, he reaches out and stills you, hand around your waist. He smells like old books and dragon fire. 

"It's alright," he says, his voice low and soothing. "I've got you."

“How long?” 

Aemond thinks for a second, he leads you out the cell slowly, steering you down the dungeons, he’s patient as you step up the steps slowly, his hand near your back for support. “Nearly three moons”  You nod at the revelation. He continues to guide you down the castle hallways.His steps slow, matching your pace. 

"You look terrible," he says, his voice blunt but not unkind. "Have they been feeding you?"

“Scraps of mouldy bread every morning” you bite your cheek.his grip tightens on your waist. “you left me down there” you cry, your lip wobbles. The corridors wind on until you find yourself in front of a big oak door. 

He speaks softly voice filled with a hint of regret. “I had too.” 

“Had too?” the knight opens the door, it creeks slightly, you walk inside books toppled over on chairs and tables, along with scrolls. The fire roars, a platter of food is laid out on the oak table. He guides you over on the bed in the corner. You let him fuss with your dress until you're in some kind of cotton nightgown, he touches you like your glass, He pours you a glass of water. You sip slowly. 

“You wanted me to break in there”

"Yes," he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted you to feel broken”,his hand runs tenderly across your face, you still yourself trying not to chase it with your cheek “And now look at you, like clay in my hands, mine to hold however i see fit” You look up at him with wet eyes, his thumb rubs gently over your cheek. He steps closer to you. He runs his thumb over your lips. “You must be hungry.”

You nod, He steps away, moving over to a table in the corner of the room where a tray of food has been set out. He picks up a plate and brings it back over to you, setting it down in your lap. “Eat” You eat slowly, picking part of cheese and meat. You find yourself filling up quickly.

“Are you tired?” 

Your head nods quickly, the thought of sleep is terrifying to you in such a big room. “You may sleep here.” He peels back the covers, taking the plate from your lap, you climb in, and he tucks the covers up to your neck. You feel exhaustion wash over you, although you're so close to him there's a sense of loneliness within you, you turn to your side. “Relax” he whispers.

“Can you hold me?” you stutter. 

Aemond seems surprised but you seem so desperate for human connection after so long he slides his arm under you, pulling you closer, you're pressed into his back tightly. He tries to soothe you, hand running through your hair, but it only knots. Your body grows less rigid as you begin to fall asleep in his arms. He watches you succumb to sleep, body growing limp. 

[sp4ceboo]

Within the Storms of Giedi Prime: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: the long awaited part two of upon the sands of the arena is hereeee

tw: 18+, smut (more than last time hehehe), p in v, swearing, Feels™, death, assassination, use of the Voice (not on feyd), less violence but still violence, i lack faith in my sequel writing abilities, blowjobs, SUB FEYDDDD, also DOM FEYDDD, sex Outside, lightning and thunder (it says storms in the title what do you expect)

wc: 4.2k

part 1

Giedi Prime is a miserable planet.

It’s evident in the choking, black smog from the factories in the dense air fused with the anguished cries of overworked slaves and the distant rumble of the still active volcanos. You’re near the Harkonnen’s palace grounds - you’re heading towards them, actually, and the promise of a… pleasant night; to your left, you can just about glimpse the looming silhouette of the great arena, squatting like a hulking beast on the horizon, waiting to swallow any poor soul that gets too close to its gaping maw.

Tonight, roiling storm clouds reign the sky, sending sheets of furious rain pounding down upon anyone who dares to be out at this hour - including you. Harsh bolts of lightning spear down, hurtling towards the ground like incensed, condensed moonlight and casting freakish shadows.

Moonlight: the colour of Feyd’s skin. If it weren’t for him, you’d already be off this sorry planet - alas, you must stay a little longer, your body already a little warm at the memory of his skilled fingers and scorching gaze. You haven’t been back since the encounter with the na-Baron in the arena months ago, and you can’t help but feel the sting of doubt in your chest, wondering if he’ll still want a second time, or if you’ll sneak into his room only to find yourself replaced by a concubine.

Not that you occupy significance to him anyway, you remind yourself. Feyd-Rautha could not replace you, because there would be nothing to replace, just ashes of a once bright fire.

Irked by the weakness of your own mind, you pull the hood of your cloak lower over your face, tightening it across your shoulders. The hem is sullied by browning blood: you disposed of your quarry just this morning, and delivered the decapitated head during the early afternoon.

Conveniently, the Bene Gesserit have left you alone for now, most likely tangled in the politics regarding the Kwisatz Haderach while trying to predict the next movement of Jessica Atreides - word is that she has burrowed her way deeper into the desert, surrounding herself and her son with the more fanatic of the Fremen as she bides her time, ready for her next strike.

It means that you’ve been granted enough time to establish yourself as a bounty hunter. For a highly trained Bene Gesserit, the work is easy, and earns you coin a plenty while keeping you on the move and as in shape as assassinating sloppy idiots attempting to run from debt and petty disagreements can.

Slipping through the palace’s perimeter proves easy enough. You use the Voice on a few guards, preferring it to cutting their throats: instructing them to keep quiet and forget you passed by causes much less of a commotion. The scaling of the ramparts that make up the circumference of the inner palace is the most challenging, due to the stone being slick with moss and rain - your fingers dig into the cracks between the weathered blocks of stone, the wind snapping and tugging at your cloak, fiercer now that you’re higher up.

There’s a narrow battlement ringing one side of Feyd’s room. You land on it silently, padding over to the window sill; curtains made of heavy black fabric layered on a dark, wispy privacy layer shroud most of your view of him. His pale skin is almost luminescent under the jagged flashes of lightning bathing his quarters, the blanket having slipped half off him during the night. He lies with his bare back facing you, although it’s hardly a vulnerability - you doubt anyone would be able to creep up on him easily enough to bury a knife into his exposed back without him tearing their throat out first.

Apart from you - hopefully.

Carefully, you ease the window open. A frigid gust of air rushes in as you climb through, and you witness the exact moment that Feyd awakens and becomes aware of your presence; imperceptibly, the muscles in his back ripple before he settles again - you posticipate the feel of them under your palms, hard, lean, perfect for sinking your nails into.

A thrill rushes through you at the sight of him, a sort of wondrous feeling, keen as a knife and just as cutting. You want him all over you, you want him to consume you until all you can remember is him and his smouldering eyes and sensuous touch.

Shrugging off your cloak, you let it pool to the floor around your feet before toeing off your shoes too; breath caught in your throat, you steal over to his bedside, your hand ghosting over the solid curve of his shoulder blade before you grip his shoulder, turning him so his back is flat against the mattress and straddling him in one fluid motion.

The cold kiss of metal meets your neck.

You almost moan at the look on his face. His lips are pulled back in a snarl, his eyes wild, frenzied almost, glittering with the same danger as before. Running your hands up his hard, sculpted chest, you smirk down at him, watching as ever so slowly, his gelid gaze defrosts with recognition, the ice giving way to those all encompassing flames, flames that you surrender to unequivocally.

‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ you murmur, fingers circling his wrist.

Feyd blinks, watching you as if he’s going to eat you as always. Slowly, the hand not wielding the knife roams waywardly down your spine, grabs a harsh fistful of your ass and lingers before gliding upwards and settling on your waist. He huffs, an abrupt, amused sound, but you don’t miss the way he greedily drinks up your figure with his eyes.

‘I thought I scared you away, little witch. Presumably, it was not too much for you?’

‘For me?’ You muse. ‘We’ll see.’

Knocking the blade from his hand, you ignore the screeching noise it makes as it skitters across the stone floor, instead enjoying the subtle inhale, loaded with expectancy, that Feyd takes as you lean in close to him. You hover above him for a prolonged moment, arms boxing him in, before he lurches upwards, connecting your lips with his.

A growl sounds at the back of his throat when he tastes you, licking into your mouth as his fingers press at the small of your back, bringing your lower body to meet his. Rolling his hips against yours, he tangles his fingers in your hair; you feel giddy with the feel of him against you, solid and warm and wanting, so real beneath you, so fucking insatiable.

You can’t get enough of him.

Slowly, you pull away, ablaze with the ravening craving in his eyes. The muscles in his well shaped chest flex as he tips his face up, following your lips, and you smile disarmingly at him, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his trousers and pulling them down.

Taking his chin in your palm, you tilt his head so you can look him in the eyes before swiping your thumb over his lower lip, savouring the way he’s putty in your hands: a man destined to be the Baron of one of the most influential, powerful Houses in the Imperium, a lethal, strikingly skilled warrior, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, humbled by your touch.

‘Let me taste you,’ you breathe - it’s almost a command.

‘Please,’ he chokes out, imploring you with his eyes.

Laughing, you press a hand to his sternum and push. He sinks back into the mattress, compliant, and you trail your lips down his neck and sternum, leaving hickeys in your wake. You're seized by the need to make him shake and beg and cry; you want to devour him.

Dragging your nails cruelly down his thighs, branding him with livid red scratches, you tilt your head to the side, a smile playing upon your lips as you listen to the groan that leaves him, the pricks of pain setting him alight with longing. There’s a devout look in his eyes - a fervent, zealous sort of lust that stirs within you with the impulse to make him forget his own name.

Curling your fingers around his hard length and giving him a few pumps, you watch him under your lashes, something akin to a power rush spinning your head around and around. Feyd is wonderfully sensitive, and a sneer pulls at your lips when his fingers scramble for purchase, fisting in his silky sheets as you press a chaste, loitering kiss to his cock head - a pearl of jet precum sits at the apex of it, dark against its rosy, delicate flush.

Dipping your hand into your pants, you collect your slick on your fingers and use it to jerk him - when you glance up, his pupils are blown wide; lips parted, he stares at you, transfixed.

Eyes locked on his, you take him in your mouth: his thighs tighten, every muscle taut as you run your tongue along the veins wrapped around the underside of his cock. His head tips back, displaying the strong lines of his neck as you hollow your cheeks, rubbing your thighs together to ease the increasing ache between them. Jaw slack, you gag when he hits the back of your throat, and he growls at the sight of your hungry eyes growing watery.

You toy with him, teasing him with your tongue and grazing your teeth lightly over his length until he’s gasping your name; the way the syllables leave his tongue is almost pleading, his chest heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat, his thighs shuddering, wracked with tremors.

It’s evident that he’s close, the voracity in his eyes so hot that it melts your bones, sending heat pooling in your core - you’re going to let him wreck your cunt after this; ruin you for any other man. Trembling, his pale fingers hover near your head, splaying over the expanse of your shoulder, his eyes fucking begging for permission, so you pull off him, laughing as his hips jolt forward at the loss, his cock twitching when your fingertips graze his balls.

‘Go on, Feyd,’ you coax. ‘Do as you wish.’

A tender, honeyed noise rips from low in his chest, almost a whimper, a sound you know no one has extracted from him before. It’s the only warning before he fists his hand in your hair, hips bucking as he fucks into your mouth, his eyes rolling back as you gag around him, the debased moan that escapes you sending vibrations down his cock.

You almost black out when he comes down your throat. You’re not sure if it’s the lack of air reaching your lungs or the sweet pain of Feyd’s hand yanking at your hair, but you’re sure that you’ve never taken so much pleasure in someone else’s release. Slowly, you sit up, moving to lie beside Feyd, and he smiles dumbly at you, maybe a little fucked out as he leans in to kiss you, sighing as he tastes his own come on your tongue.

‘I could spend hours exploring you, my little witch,’ he says, pressing his lips to your jaw.

Feyd flips you over with only an echo of ferocity from your previous fight, disrobing you and gripping your thighs, spreading them. Your hands find his shoulders, his back, your fingers resting in the dips of muscle there, trailing down the length of his spine as his own find your slick, yearning cunt.

Outside, the storm blows harder, rain pounding down upon the planet’s surface in sheets, lightning lancing through the thick billows of clouds; it is during one of these strikes that you glimpse that Feyd’s eyes are not as dark as they seem, but the colour of glaciers and blue fire. Within them, just beneath the keenness of his electric gaze, lurks something else - something that makes you hesitate. He senses it immediately, fingers pausing their movement, so you fit your lips to his.

You kiss him to avoid the emotions roiling in his stormy eyes.

He responds immediately, and you easily dismiss the thoughts clouding your mind; he barely knows you, there’s no room for the feelings you just saw in his gaze. You seek his body, not his soul, and it is the same both ways.

‘Fuck me,’ you mumble against his lips.

All coherent sentences leave your mind when he flips you over again, this time with your stomach pressed to his bedsheets as he kneels on the mattress behind you.

‘Ass up, my little witch,’ he commands.

Something within you goes molten at the sound of his voice. You can feel his gaze straying all over your skin, greedy, so you tuck your knees beneath you and arch your back, biting down on your lower lip as his palm presses against your lower vertebrae. He chuckles; it warms your bones.

‘You’re so filthy, little witch, displaying yourself for me.’

Bolts of ecstasy shoot through you as Feyd slides his cock head through your folds, his broad hands gripping your hips so tightly that you’ll be left with bruises. Your breath is punched from your lungs when he sinks himself inside you, balls deep, white hot pleasure rocketing down your spine - it tears a wretched cry from you, more so when he starts a brutal, near sadistic pace, the angle destroying you with vicious bliss.

The drag of his searing, velvet cock on your walls makes your toes curl. You think your body might shatter into a million pieces, the way he plucks the euphoria from it so agonisingly, so beautifully. One of his hands finds its way between your thighs, his thumb rolling endlessly over your clit; you find yourself teetering on the edge, suspended there a moment before you fall.

The way your cunt convulses around his cock as you come doesn’t stop Feyd. Unforgiving, he ploughs into you, his fingers still working on your clit, not breaking his rhythm even as you writhe beneath him, trying to jerk your hips away from his to no avail. It’s too much, the pleasure melting delectably into pain and still he can’t stop, won’t stop, his low snarl a warning in your ear as he pins you to the mattress with a hand between your shoulder blades, leaving you helpless to do nothing but take him.

Tears well up in your eyes, soaking into the sheets beneath you as he rails into you, his fingers speeding up on your clit until you’re begging him, tremors shooting through you from the aftershocks of your orgasm. His grip on your hips is unrelenting, and you sob as his pace increases, the savage friction sending you over again.

For the second time, you come hard around him, pussy clenching and fluttering, ragged cries wracking your body. This time, you bring Feyd with you, the sound he makes sharp and almost pained. He pulls out, and you mewl at the sharp tug of friction, panting as he comes on your back and ass, claiming you with his dark seed.

Breathless, he sits back on his heels as you straighten your legs until you lie full stretch, revelling in the post orgasmic rapture. Dimly, you hear his footsteps on the stone floor, but you pay them no mind, instead letting your eyelids droop as you rest your chin in the crook of your elbow.

Gentle hands encircle your ankles, carefully opening your legs. A second later, you feel a warm cloth at the apex of your thighs, and you whine, flinching away from the overstimulation. You hear Feyd’s chuckle, and the comforting sweep of his thumb against your skin as he cleans you up, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses on your back as he does; barely a moment after, the mattress dips, and strong arms pull you into a warm chest.

‘How are you, my little witch?’

You hum in response, not wanting to use words. Something niggles at your brain, even through the haze of pleasure. It’s got to do with the na-Baron’s gentleness after he fucks you; it unsettles you, the sweetness of him, and now these words, as if you’re a lover, and not… whatever this is.

One of his wide palms runs up and down your ribs, and you shove those thoughts to the side, instead enjoying his touch, the way your body fits into his, his chest pressed against your front as he traces patterns on your skin with his deft fingers; his lips brushing the nape of your neck, leaving soft kisses there. You find yourself curling away from him a little - his hands on you make something deep in your chest stir to life, something that shouldn’t be there. It’s -

A blinding flash of lightning, followed by the deep, throaty growl of thunder illuminates the room. You’re facing the door: in the crack between its solid masonry and the floor, you glimpse a shadow.

Hastily, you turn, one hand meeting Feyd’s chest, fingers falling into the dip his collarbone makes as you search his eyes, urgent. He stares back at you, not quite guarded, but not quite open any more, and you’re filled with the urge to protect.

‘Give me your knife,’ you hiss.

He sits up halfway. ‘What’s - ’

You push him back down, glaring at his resistance. You can sense the change in the air, hear the subtle scrape of someone’s boot across the stone floor and the swish of clothing behind the door - or maybe it’s just the building storm outside, the escalating charge in the sky as another bolt of lightning is generated.

‘Feyd. Give me your knife.’

Eyes quizzical, he produces it from somewhere behind him, handing it to you hilt first. It’s just in time, because the door swings open, a masked figure silhouetted there. You whirl around, covering Feyd’s body with your own.

They’re holding a knife.

It doesn’t take you a moment longer to send your knife hurtling towards them. The blade seethes through the air before embedding itself with a thunk into the assassin’s shoulder, and as they drop to the floor, you’re up in another second, poised in case there’s another. A flash of movement catches your eye - the dropped knife, retrieved and held in blood soaked fingers.

‘Stand down,’ you snap.

The Voice echoes through the room, and you pluck the knife out of the now frozen assassin’s grasp and slit his throat. Turning, you see the glimmer of amusement and awe in Feyd’s eyes; assassination attempts probably occur often, an estranged Bene Gesserit using the Voice in his room less so.

‘So many people seem eager to sneak into my bed chamber tonight,’ he remarks. ‘Although I must admit I preferred the first one.’

You laugh, collecting your clothes off the floor. ‘I’m glad.’

As you pull on your trousers, followed closely by your shirt, Feyd gets up, and you’re struck by the slow manner in which he approaches you, so much like the way he prowled towards you in the arena, but this time his eyes concerningly soft, his deadly, killing machine of a body marked with hickeys and love bites.

‘Why do you always rush to leave so fast, my little witch?’

‘I - I have places to be,’ you stammer.

He tilts his head. ‘At this hour of the night?’

‘...Yes.’

Feyd takes one step closer, close enough to kiss. ‘What are you afraid of?’

You back towards the window. ‘I fear nothing.’

‘Don’t lie to me,’ he warns. ‘I can see it in your eyes.’

Shaking your head, panic rising in your throat, you turn, the glass chilly on your fingers as you open the window. Feyd catches your other hand, but you whirl around and lash out, a blow to the face followed by a blow to the legs, and he staggers backwards, giving you enough time to slip out of the window and onto the battlements.

Outside, the storm has whipped up, the howling wind tearing at your hood and blowing it off, the rain immediately pouring down to soak your hair, sting your eyes, wet your face. You need to run, you need to get away from him, but the weak part of you - the part that you fear - slows your strides, tugging at you as if it’s tied to Feyd somehow.

He catches up to you easily enough.

Of course he does, he is Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, and he is inexplicably bound to your soul in a way you cannot describe, in a way that terrifies you, shakes you to your very core. He catches your with a hand around your upper arm and presses you to his chest, your treacherous body reacting to him the way it always has as he stares down at you with those burning, icy eyes, droplets of rain running in rivulets down the moonlight planes of his chest.

Unease tears through you. You see it in his eyes, that he feels it too, and you dread the way it does not disquiet him. Your soul feels like it’s slowly rending in two - you need to get away from him, from the unguarded way he regards you, dedication clear in his unwavering gaze, but all the same, you need to remain with his arms trapping you to him, in the bewildering magnetism of his psyche.

‘Tell me what you fear, my little witch.’

You answer through clenched teeth. ‘I am not yours.’

‘You evade my question.’

You stare at Feyd, confounded. This man before you is the same man that you duelled in the arena, yet he is different; there is a certainty in his eyes, an acceptance that you yourself flee from. You’re drawn to him, even as the instincts that have kept your hollow heart intact all these years squall for you to break loose - and yet you fear that too, the evasion, because you know that if you run now, a part of you will be lost, snapped under the tension.

‘What do you - ’

You cut Feyd off. ‘Do you know what I fear, Harkonnen? I fear the look in your eyes, because it’s not just desire any more. You do not seek me in order that I inflict pain and pleasure alike upon you, you seek something else. I fear the look in your eyes because it is the same feeling that rises traitorously in my chest when I look at you, and it terrifies me.’

He’s silent.

You grab his shoulder. ‘Tell me you feel nothing, Feyd. Tell me you crave me for the thrill of adrenaline and the feel of my body - tell me and do not lie.’

His eyes bore into yours. ‘I cannot.’

‘Exactly.’

You wrest yourself from his grasp, turning and striding down the battlements. A strange feeling overtakes you, a prickle behind your eyes and a lump in your throat, an aching tug at your heart which you stalwartly ignore. It is over - you’re done. He made it harder than it ever had to be, but you’re going now.

He grabs your hand. ‘You cannot either, my little witch.’

Struggling, you snarl at him, clawing at your chest, but he pins you to the wall, his eyes aflame, searing, calling to something in you that rises up to meet him. This time, it is too strong; you cannot push it down, a part of you not even wanting to. You can feel Feyd all over you, your senses overwhelmed by him, by the way he presses his forehead to yours, forcing you to meet his gaze.

‘You do not have to fear it,’ he whispers. ‘Just let go. You’re holding on too tight.’

He dips his head, claiming your lips. You give in, yield to it, let it wash over you and carry you away on its blissful waves, your heart swelling in your chest at the way he touches you, tenderly, as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever laid his eyes upon; this is not Feyd, but this is him, irrefutably so.

You think this might be love.

It is a wild, white hot blade in your heart that twists, beauteous, enthralling. You believed that it would weaken you, shackle you, but you blaze with the glorious flare of it, the kiss of Feyd’s hips against yours stoking it further. Truly, it is magnificent.

In the only way you know how, you show him. It’s cataclysmic, the way you’re pulled to him like a comet caught in a planet’s gravity, streaking towards him, fated to collide, your hands roving over him, his over you, the taste of rain blooming on your tongue as you bite down on his shoulder, muffling a moan as he ekes sweet, tender pleasure from you. Your head tips back against the stone, eyes raised to the weeping sky, your lips parted as he fills you with his cock.

Feyd looks at you as if you are a goddess. He worships you, cradles you in his arms, anchoring you, grounding you. You do not know where he ends and you begin, nor do you want to know; you wish for your souls to meld, you wish for the two of you to be alone in the universe, unbothered by time or fate or anything.

‘You are mine, little witch,’ he intones against your rain soaked skin. ‘I am yours.’

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Astray far away, towards the lands of the enemy.

Adar x reader | SMUT🔞 | Ch.2

When orcs cross your lands you choose survival. After that you choose selfish desire which makes for a nice turn of events.

WC: 2.2k

Part one of the Lets make Adar a dad fic

Waldreg was a rat, always had been.

But nowadays, with evil lurking he was making quite the points to assure survival. 

After Bronwyn gave her speech about fighting and Waldreg had countered it with bowing down for survival you had followed him out of the gates of Ostirith, and during the night, bowed down before your enemy.

Before you, Waldreg made a speech of loyalty but was ignored by the orcs' leader.

Ignored until he had called him Sauron. 

You watched Waldreg be grabbed by the throat and thrown to the ground, still offering loyalty to whoever the man before you all might be.

Again he was ignored, as the man took Rowan who stood right before you and was dragged to face the crowd, forced to kneel as the orc leader tossed a dagger at Waldreg's chest. Finally speaking.

"Only blood can bind." 

Before your eyes, in the torch lit town you watched as Waldreg did as instructed, and killed your friend to pledge his loyalty.

Next thing you knew you were following along with orders, listening to Adar give his speech to the Uruks he called his childen. Abd then trying to hide from your now enemies, praying the Uruks recognised you as their ally.

Only the Uruks weren't the biggest of your worries as another troop came in on horseback to aid the oposing forces.

So you hid with the remainder of the troop that managed to escape. You hid in the woods until the ground shook and fire rained from the sky and by the time the enemy fled you were back with Adar and the others and the start of building a new home was done.

The Southlands were no longer, from now on you were citizens of Mordor.

Scouts were sent off and remaining troops arrived with all belongings, ready to build.

But first it was time for celebration.

Uruks howled and feasted on fallen soldiers, even offering you some meat but you politely declined. 

Instead you found the other humans, all getting drunk off whatever survived the onslaught. So you moved on from them too, not feeling like drinking after all that happened. Your last stop was somewhere off at the edge of the town's remains where you stared at the smouldering ashes and low dancing flames on the edge of dying out.

That too didn't bring your mind peace and quiet, so you moved on again. Wandering around until you almost ran into someone after turning a corner. 

"Not of the celebrating kind, child?" Adar himself stood before you, two mugs in hand. He offered one to you as he went to sit on some fallen support beams.

"I'm not really one for getting drunk or feasting on my enemies' flesh, no." You joined his side and sat down. "Don't take me wrong, I am glad your Uruks have a home now." Your words ended with a smile, buried behind the drink. It was bad how you wanted to stare at the man for as long as you could. You had wanted it since you first watched him throw Wardreg and had Rowan killed. No one should look that good doing all of that.

"You know your eyes speak enough. No need to hide, I can read you." His gloved hand raised to lower your mug.

"This is good, what is it?" You tried your best to change the topic of conversation with a genuine question.

"A simple Uruk made red wine the last group brought in. Is it that different from what you served here?" He gestured to the tavern that you sat behind and looked at you with a curious look. 

"It's so nice and warm." It brought you comfort so you sipped away at it, the nerves of everything happening today finally leaving you. "So strange, it's so much nicer than ours." 

This time it was Adar changing the topic again. "Shall we go join the others? Surely you'd warm up to my children quicker that way." His offer was a kind one, filled with elven charm he still possesed even after becoming what he was now. 

"I think I prefer the less chaotic energy here, in all honesty. Being able to talk and drink wine, it's nice." 

And it was nice, even Adar agreed. Now that he and his children had a home there was no need for endless planning and strategizing to keep him busy anymore. 

"I admit, you are right. Having a quiet conversation just for the pleasure of it is something I have not done in a long while." He watched you place your mug down, impressed with how quickly you had downed the wine for a mere mortal who claimed not caring about getting drunk. 

You placed the mug down and thanked the wine for silencing the voice in your head as you sat straight up and murmured something. Adar didn't catch what it was, and questioned you about it.

"I said," With a swift move you flung your leg over his lap and straddled him. "There is probably other things that you have not done for pleasure in a very long time." 

Adar followed your quick movements with ease, hus gloved hand ending on your hip. Metal digging into your skin to steady you as his other hand came up to rest at your jaw.

Your actions intrigued him. "You assume right." His gloved hand sqeezed a bit harder, making you squirm in his lap as the sharp edges pressed deeper against your bones. "Now, what did you have in mind now that you have sat yourself so selfishly onto my lap?" He wasn't actively moving you off him so you took your chances to move along, inching closer to his face and pressing a swift peck to his jawline before nuzzling his neck. 

You only got a confused grunt in response, which had you decide to think more as an Uruk, and bite down on his flesh and grind your hips against his. It earned you a low growl and a sharp pull of your hair that disconnected your lips from his throat. 

"You wish to be rough, little mortal?" His gaze changed into an amused grin, taking your hip and shoulder in hand as he manouvered you onto your back, legs still over his as he moved himself atop of you. 

His legs on either side of the fallen structure with your hips pulled up against his, a sharp metal hand pressing into the soft plump of your cheeks prying open your jaw to push a finger past your lips. 

His ungloved hand went to find the ends of your garment and tear it off your lower half, exposing you to the night air while you struggled to move against the iron grasp on your jaw and the metal digging into your tongue.

"How good of you, to wet your master's fingers for him.." His lips barely an inch from your ear, returning the act of biting down on your earlobe with a soft growl and licking the sensitive flesh. 

You mewled as his gloved hand left your face, sharp fingertips dragging down over your clothed torso as he sat back up, untill it reached bare skin. You gasped as he continued south, two fingers moving just off your centre, pulling a soft plea from you. "P.. please, no.."

 He watched in amusement as he pressed the flats of his fingers against your mound, just the leather of his glove on your skin. He drank in the fear that mixed with your arousal, adding to his own fire and exposing you further, leaving your body bare to see for anyone who'd wander past.

You could feel his hard length press against you as he rutted his hips against you, his hands toying with your chest making you moan out in pleasure. 

He groaned in return, moving to undo his trousers and free his cock, wetting it with your slick. 

"It's been long since I have felt this warmth." He breathed out, postitioning his tip at your entrance. You whined with every inch of his length stretching you open, wrapping your legs around his waist as best as you could. The sounds of the Uruks ans men partying drowned out more with each roll of Adar's hips, forcing a moaned breath out of you each time. 

He stilled as he bottomed out, hips slotted with yours in a near perfect matter. Leaning forward on his hands his hair framed his face, lust blown eyes staring deep into yours. There was a slight pant in his breath. "I will keep you." His gloved hand moved to your chest, metal fingers toying with your nipple making you whine out. "Y.. yes Lord Father.." Pain and pleasure mixed in the best way. "You are mine to seek pleasure with howevever I wish." 

Your hands moves to clas at his thighs in an attempt to make him move. "My body belongs to you, Lord Father." 

Your words spurred him on and with a hand on your hip he started moving, cock leaving you almost fully before thrusting back in and setting a steady pace. 

Cries of pleasure filled the ashen air, groans and pleased grunts joining the choir behind the tavern. "L..lord Father.. Adar.." Your voice was barely abouve a whisper. " your hand found his hair, fingers scratching his scalp. "Plant your seed.. Use me to continue your bloodline." 

His thrusts became more harsh, forcing a gasp from you each time his hips came in contact with yours. "Would you.. truly give up your body.. like that?" He panted between breaths, he hadn't bred in Ages, not feeling the need to produce more offspring. The concept of having a family of his own beside his Uruk children was foreign to him. 

"Please.." You pulled him in closer with your heels pressed into his back, moaning as his cock hit just right inside you.

"Make me a mother." 

Adar's hips stilled entirely as he looked down on you, a grin spread wide on his faceas he lifted his gloved hand and brought a fingertip down below your chest hard enough to break skin. You could not see what he did, only feel the carving of flesh obscured by the plump of your breast.

He did not speak, nor try to show you. Instead resumed his rough pace as if nothing had happened.

"You will bear my children, yes? For as long as I please. Until your body is no longer fit to carry offspring." His raspy voice was right at your ear, his teeth sinking into the sensitive skin on your neck as he bred you. 

"Ahh..Adar.. hah.." Your moans increased the closer you got to the edge. They were music to Adar's ears.

Not like the animalistic howls and roars of thr Uruks he had gotten so accustomed to. No, your sounds were addicting. 

Your hand found his ungloved one, guiding it between your legs to press two fingers down on your clit, silently begging him to pull you over the edge. On contact you cried out, pleading over and over until the coil snapped and you came, walls clamping down on his cock in extacy.

With no chance to catch your breath your cries turned into begging for rest, a moment to come down but instead Adar kept playing with your clit, fucking into you at the perfect angle that hit every right spot inside of you. The display amused him, filing it all away for if he ever found himself alone and in need of relief.

Before you he panted, chest heaving and mouth hanging open. His tongue rolled out past his smiling lips, a string of drool lowering and disconnecting from the tip of his tongue, dripping down right above your core. His already slick fingers gathered it and spread it all over where his cock disappeared into your folds. 

It reminded you that you weren't producing a child with an elf. You were being bred by an Uruk. 

Adar's growls and sighs got more frequent along with his thrusts becoming less rythmic. He was as close as you were again.

His hinistrations continued, fingers dancing over your sensitive bundle of nerves as his cock stroked thr spot that had you see stars from the inside. 

You threw your head back with one last gut wrenching moan, squeezing your walls around his cock once more and pulling him over the edge with you. With a low growled moan he spilled deep within your womb, stilling to catch his breath.

As he tucked himself back into his trousers he watched your close to unconsious form, eyes closed and breaths evening out.

In your current state you could no longer register the Uruks that had gathered because of the noise, watching their Adar who mated with one of the new women. 

He was unsure how long they had been there or how much they saw, but from the howls and cheers he figured they had seen enough. 

With a glare in their direction, Adar sent away his children and covered your bare skin to the best of his abilities. You needed a new set of clothes. 

With you wrapped in his arms he set off to find a place for you to sleep while he sent others on a hunt for clothes. 

[nihilityuniverse]

𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗕𝗼𝘀𝘀.

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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Story inspired by Acheron's Lore, Power, and Personality...

ENG is not my First language

I do not own Genshin Impact or any of the pictures used.

Do NOT Repost.

This story is also available on Wattpad: Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 0 - Prologue

[Lament of the Fallen]

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"I have lost everything."

The relentless battle against the Honkai beasts rages on, your katana slicing through their monstrous forms with a desperate fury. Explosions erupt around you, the searing heat mixing with the blood and sweat that drips down your temples. The ground is littered with the fallen, comrades who once fought beside you now lifeless amidst the swarming beasts summoned by the Herrschers.

"My family..."

The horrifying sight of humans, transformed into mindless Honkai zombies, fills you with dread. Your grip on the handle of your Divine Key falters as you witness your little sister and brother among them, feasting on the remains of fallen soldiers. Tears blur your vision as you dash towards them, the agony of what you must do tearing at your soul. With a heart-wrenching cry, you end their suffering, beheading the only family you had left. You had promised to protect them, to create a peaceful world for them.

"My dear comrades..."

A wall of flames engulfs the encroaching monsters, giving you a momentary respite. Kalpas, your grey-haired, masked comrade, stands before you, his power saving you once more. Exhaustion is etched on his face, but he urges you to keep moving. Before you can respond, a piercing laser beam shoots through his chest, and he crumples to the ground. One by one, your friends fall, their bodies lifeless on the battlefield. The bonds forged in blood and battle, severed in an instant.

"My world..."

The battlefield is a graveyard of Honkai beasts and fallen soldiers, their bodies buried beneath layers of ash. The sky above is a mournful grey, reflecting the lifeless desolation around you. You stand alone, the sole survivor amidst the ruins. Have you won the war, or merely survived its horrors? The answer eludes you.

"And..."

In your hand, you clutch your new Divine Key, forged from the shattered remains of 70,033 blades and the essence of twelve Herrschers. You gaze up at the bleak, grey sky, the weight of your existence pressing down on you.

"I realize now..." You unsheathe your Divine Key, Nihility, unleashing your Active Honkai Reaction. Golden cracks spread from your right hand, blossoming into ethereal flowers. Your hair turns snow-white, your skin pale as ivory. Golden horns sprout from your head, and your eye color turns into gold.

"I've lost myself."

"...That the ultimate fate of this world is nothingness, and therefore, worthless... or even the whole universe?"

With a final, devastating swing of your Divine Key, you begin to unravel the very fabric of this world, reducing it to void, to nothingness. The ground beneath you crumbles, the sky shatters, and everything you fought for dissolves into oblivion. As the world collapses around you, you raise your katana high.

"Yet... I still want to stay..."

With a heavy heart, you turn the blade upon yourself, splitting your soul in half, and embracing the void.

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Snowflakes drift gently from the dull, grey sky, their delicate forms hitting softly against your window. You stare blankly at the wintry landscape, your mind lost in the endless dance of the snow. Your right hand, adorned with claw-like metallic finger guards, rests against the cold glass. As you blink, the serene snowflakes transform into ashen rain, and the snowy ground becomes a graveyard, littered with swords and corpses.

Startled, you stumble back, your heart pounding in your chest. The haunting vision fades as quickly as it appeared, leaving you standing in the quiet room. A single tear escapes your eye, tracing a cold line down your cheek. You wipe it away, confusion mingling with the sorrow etched on your face.

"... A forgotten memory?" you whisper, your breath fogging the glass.

Before you can ponder the vision further, a knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts. You turn away from the window, your expression hardening. "Come in," you command, your voice firm yet distant.

The door creaks open, and a Fatui Skirmisher steps in, bowing deeply. He holds a letter in his trembling hand, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor. "Lord Innamorati," he begins, his voice wavering with fear. "A letter from Her Royal Highness."

'Her Highness?' The title feels foreign, a distant echo in your mind. You frown, trying to grasp the fleeting memory.

"Can you remind me of her name?" you ask, your tone soft yet icy, sending a shiver through the skirmisher despite his thick winter coat.

"H-Her Royal Highness Tsaritsa, the Cryo Archon," he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod slowly, the name stirring something within you. A fleeting sense of purpose, lost in the haze of your fragmented memories. "Thank you," you say, your voice carrying a trace of melancholy. "My memory... it often fails me."

The skirmisher quickly hands you the letter and exits the room, his relief palpable. You turn to your desk, the weight of the message heavy in your hand. If the Cryo Archon herself has written to you, it must be of grave importance. Did something terrible happen? Or have you forgotten another mission?

You break the seal and unfold the letter, your eyes scanning the contents. With a sigh, you crumple it and toss it into the trash. Your hand instinctively moves to the scabbard where your Divine Key, Nihility, rests.

"A funeral..., huh?" The words hang in the air, heavy with sorrow and resignation.

You move to the window once more, the snowy landscape a stark contrast to the inner turmoil you feel. The snow outside is pure and untouched, but in your mind, the vision of the dead and the desolate ground lingers. You know that each snowflake, each fleeting memory, is a piece of the past that you can never fully grasp.

In the quiet of your room, you can't shake the feeling that you're losing more than just memories. You're losing yourself, piece by piece, like the snow melting away under the weight of the ashes.

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Reblog if you like this story

[trulyumai]

Being Away From Thou

Pairing: Messmer x Reader

Request: hiii! could i request maybe protective messmer or like someone went too far with his wife? Love ur works have a grt day!!

Warnings: Blood, Violence

Synopsis: While Messmer is away, an intruder invades his keep.

A/N: Hello everyone! I apologize for no updates last week, I was so sick, but my updates shall be coming regularly now. Thank you so much for the support, comments, re-blogs!

Enjoy!

The woodlands burned with fervor and ashen contempt. On and on, Messmers flames bit against the wind, carrying it further and more desperately towards civilization; towards innocent people led by the golden vows. 

The man himself did nothing but watch as the orange twists of flame embedded itself against his orbs, made home in the reddened iris’. 

With a slumped form the man held a crease between his brow. It was getting late, he couldn’t imagine how worried his little wife would be. 

So, with long pale fingers wrapped around his dutiful spear, he followed the muddy roads home. 

His back lit up against the blinking sky; the stars were swallowed whole with blackened ash and gray bubbles of smoke.

Fall was coming to an end and the cold weather made his legs stiff. It was much harder to leave a bed nestled in furs— with his darling girl molded against his form shivering pathetically. 

His arms would lay about her waist, rubbing soothingly to ease out each shiver that was let out. 

He could imagine now— her little frame draping across his. 

So soft, so desperate, so—

“Gods.” He cursed. 

His devotion held no bounds, even miles away the red knight could be so enamored with her. 

To want her. 

To need her. 

Messmer picked up his pace, it was getting too uncomfortable being so far away from such a woman. 

His woman. 

-

The girl hummed, her fingers found themselves busy amongst the kitchen. 

She chopped, she seasoned, she boiled. 

Lost in her tune, the weather was ceaselessly beating against the window pane. Droplets of water cascaded down upon the glass, blocking her line of sight towards the back of the house. 

Dusting her fingers across the cooked meat she tusked. 

“Not yet,” with a quick move of the hand the meat was placed back upon the rack; cooking slowly across the stove. 

All of a sudden, a bang sounded. It echoed through the little house and made the girl drop a wooden bowl that laid upon her delicate hands. 

Letting out a shriek the bowl rolled past her ankle, bumping into the lower cabinets where it splayed carelessly out. 

“H-hello?” She breathed quick— too nervous to let out a deep and guttural one. 

Turning towards the living space she was met with silence. The fire had burnt out, little sizzles could be heard from its desperate attempt to stay lit. 

The rain pelted against the walls— loud and harsh. 

Gulping, she made sure the bolt upon the door was in place, remembering Messmers words before his departure. 

“The door, darling. You mustn’t forget the latch. Double, triple check its placement upon the—“

She did nothing but stare up at him with lost, scared eyes. 

She hated to see him leave, especially so soon after his last mission. Little hands gripped harder onto the man’s forearm, nearly doubling the size and width of her own. 

“Wife,” the knight chastised.

“Is thou even listening?” 

“Yes,” her eyes rolled back playfully. 

“Check the door. I heard you, dear husband.” 

Two fingers found their way below her chin, tilting it upwards with a careful pressure. 

“I will be back in two days time, the capital has asked for reinforcements; thou will remain here. Safe.” His nails traced across her jawline, a shiver ran across the girl's spine. 

“I’ll miss you,” leaning into the man’s embrace she allowed her eyes to close. Her lashes fluttered with how warm the man’s palm laid. 

Messmer chuckled, it was deep— comforting. 

“I know, sweet girl.” Ignoring how the strings of his heart pulled at such an image, he removed his hand. 

If he stayed any longer— there would be no going to the useless capital. His mother would have his head, surely.

He could have said how much he’d miss her, how he loathes to leave her presence. 

Mention that he needed to kiss her frame every couple minutes or an itch would invade his mind. 

But he didn’t. 

He simply turned away, faced towards the erdflowers displayed upon their walkway. 

“Lock the door.” His armor clattered with each step he took, swaying with good measure. Not tearing her eyes off the tall knight she smiled.

“I love you!” She called out 

The man’s steps faltered. His head dipped with shame before he decided to look over one last time. 

“And I you,” turning his head one yellow iris glanced upon her form, before disappearing into the trees. 

- 

That was two nights ago. She had been so anxious waiting, it nearly slipped her mind. 

She found little jobs here and there to occupy the time. 

Clean the floors, dust the walkway, water the plants that littered about the garden. 

Her hands kept busy so her mind could rest. It hadn’t even occurred that Messmer was late. 

Backing up from the door, her back bumped into an object- a person? 

Dirtied hands rose to cover her mouth, a muffled cry pressed against the trespasser. 

“Shhh, shh girl.” The man bent down, saffron colored teeth grazed her ear and the smell of something rotten hit her senses. 

“The man of the keep. Where is he?” The voice was gruff, she tried to place it- to remember who could hold such a hostile tone but nothing came. Her form shook as the grip tightened around her face, squeezing at her cheeks. After nothing but silence, one hand came around to press itself onto her stomach. 

“Oi love, don’t make me hurt you,” the barbarian teased, his lips still on the shell of her ear. 

“Mmmh- mm!”

“What was- oh… my apologies lovely,” laughing to himself the hand was removed from the womans mouth, a gasp of air was taken almost immediately. 

“He's, he’s not here.” Grabbing at her cheeks she rubbed them, soothingly trying to ease the sore red spots easing their way onto her skin. 

“You're lying.” He spat, already flexing his other hand that leered against the wall. 

“I'm not!”

The hand tightened around her stomach, with an unexpected shove the girl crashed onto the wood beneath her. Skin blisters around each knee in response, and her chin bled lightly against the scratchy surface.

The barbarian lay on top of her now, with an arm holding each of hers. The other hand began flexing in the hair of her head, pulling it back with a smug grin. 

“Lie again.”

Scowling against the pressure her eyes squeezed shut. 

Think, think, think!

Don't let him take you, don't let him- 

A jingle rang out. All heads snapped towards the front door, where the knob jiggled and wobbled against a strength. 

Not liking the newfound company, the tyrant stood quick, and with a pull began to drag the woman towards the back garden.

Blood from her chin seeped out imminently, it left a trail of maroon to be displayed against the surrounding brown.

“Stop!” Her nails dug into the ground, cracking against the material roughly. 

“Shut it!” Tugging harder he kicked the woman who began to resist, she cried out in response.

Loud, too loud.

The man glanced up, his eyes widened with fear and static crawled up his legs and arms. 

The lock lay busted, hanging on by a thread. It swung loudly, creaked with each shift it took. 

Reddened armor bursted across his vision, and he noticed, with much disappointment, that the man of the keep was a knight. 

The Flame Knight. 

“I-I,

“An intruder?” Messmer questioned, although it sounded more so like a statement.  His head tilted slightly towards the opposing man's direction. His gaze lowered, to see his little woman stare back at him. 

The blood was noticed first, then the marks. 

Until finally, his eyes squinted at the filthy hands lying about her like a casual occurrence. 

Messmers hands gripped tightly upon his spear, until blue veins popped out in rage, until the jagged metal dug into his skin. 

“Wife,” The flame called out. 

The girl in response looked upon him, shame embedded into her features. 

“Look away.”

And so she did. Her arms covered her ears pathetically to drown out the screaming, the crying that only seemed to get louder with each gushing blow. 

She heard the blood hit the ground, like spilling a mug of honeydew, it was heavy, unpleasant. 

Until finally, silence. 

It was only moments later that a light touch skirted across her back. Craning her head up, she saw her husband; on his knees in front of her. He looked angry, hateful even.  

Her bottom lip wobbled as tears spewed from her lashes, lazily adorning her cheeks and plopping onto her already ruined nightgown. 

The knight did not hesitate to lean over and grab her, shoving the woman onto his lap carefully before bumping his nose on her neck. 

Inhaling, the man could once again feel himself coming down for the second time that night. The anger slowly dissipated with each breath of honey and flowers that clung to his wifes skin.

“Welcome home, my love,” she whispered, voice weak and tired from the prior endeavors. Already she wanted bed, to rest until her husband kissed each bruise away. 

Messmer hummed and stood with the smaller woman in his grasp, already on his way to rest for the night. 

Not bothering to step over the body littering his living room his boot collided with a limb, it squelched with the action. 

With now bloody strides, Messmer took his time up the stairs, with each step closer to the bedroom his head ducked down, laying a kiss upon the girl's forehead. 

Already, she began to forget about the trespasser, the blood that lay staining the floorboards. 

For each kiss was so warm- so loving, it was hard to think of anything else.

[theplotmage]

Halloween-themed Fantasy Festival and Unique Events for Worldbuilding:

1. Whispers Eve – A night when the spirits of the lost whisper secrets to the living.

2. Harrowtide – A festival of fear where nightmares walk among the people.

3. Veilfall – The thin barrier between worlds collapses, allowing passage for the dead.

4. Moonshadow Revel – When the moon is dark, shadowy creatures come out to celebrate.

5. Hallowed Lanterns – A night where enchanted lanterns guide the dead home.

6. Soul’s Gate – The gate between the mortal world and the afterlife swings open.

7. Glimmernight – A festival where ghosts appear as shimmering lights.

8. Dreadmasque – A masquerade where each mask hides a dark secret.

9. Reaping Hollow – An event where spirits return to reclaim what they’ve lost.

10. Bloodfire Vigil – Bonfires are lit with blood magic to protect against the undead.

11. Darkmoon Ascendance – A night where the moon turns black and dark magic reigns.

12. Spectral Tide – The dead rise as the tide reaches its highest point.

13. Twilight’s Grasp – The setting sun never fully disappears, keeping the world in twilight where horrors lurk.

14. Night of the Wraiths – Wraiths descend to collect souls and drag them into the underworld.

15. Frostgrave Feast – A feast in the frozen woods where the spirits of winter grant wishes, but at a price.

16. Bonefire Rites – Sacred fires are lit to honor ancestors and keep malevolent spirits at bay.

17. Witch’s Mark – A night when those who bear a witch’s mark gain immense, but temporary, power.

18. Gravemist Rising – The fog from graves rises, filled with whispers and secrets from the dead.

19. Shadowveil Crossing – A ritual where people cross over into the shadow world to commune with spirits.

20. Autumn’s Curse – A festival where the curse of eternal autumn brings creatures of decay to life.

21. Lantern of Souls – A single lantern, said to hold the souls of the departed, guides the lost on Halloween.

22. Phantom’s Requiem – A symphony is played by phantoms, echoing through the realm of the living.

23. Cindershade Festival – Celebrating the power of fire to keep the dark spirits away.

24. Nightmare’s End – A gathering where the most vivid nightmares are summoned and must be conquered.

25. Hallowveil Procession – A grand parade of masked figures representing both life and death.

26. Gloomhaven Masquerade – A ball held in an eerie town where no one knows who is mortal and who is not.

27. Midnight Harvest – A harvest festival under the blood moon where sacrifices are made to dark gods.

28. Ebon Wreath – A wreath of black flowers is hung on every door to protect against roaming spirits.

29. Soulthorn Festival – A thorny forest springs to life, and only those who navigate it can escape the spirits within.

30. Eclipse of Ashes – During a total eclipse, the ashes of the dead rain down, bringing with them cryptic messages.

31. Gravenight Dance – A dance held in a cemetery where ghosts lead the living in one last waltz.

32. Night of the Void – The stars disappear, leaving the world in utter darkness as creatures from the void emerge.

33. Horror’s Ascendant – A festival that celebrates the rise of a forgotten terror that once plagued the world.

34. Tide of the Forsaken – A night when those forsaken by the gods are given one last chance to walk among the living.

35. Mournstar Vigil – A night when the mournful star rises and the dead follow its path back to the mortal realm.

36. Graveshadow Feast – A festival where the living feast with their deceased ancestors.

37. Shroudfall – The shroud between life and death dissolves, allowing creatures of darkness to invade.

38. Hollowlight Procession – Spirits of lost children carry lanterns, leading a parade through the haunted woods.

39. Doomveil Gathering – A gathering of witches and warlocks under a cursed sky to summon forbidden magic.

40. Veilfire Festival – A festival where fire dances upon the veil between worlds, granting glimpses of the afterlife.

41. Ruinwake Revelry – A chaotic festival celebrating destruction and chaos, where dark beings rise from ruin.

42. Blackthorn Masque – A masquerade in a cursed castle where everyone wears masks of thorns.

43. Echoes of Dust – A ceremony where the dust of ancient beings blows through the town, and their voices are heard once more.

44. Ashen Sun – The sun turns ashen, and with it, the spirits of forgotten warriors rise from their graves.

45. Night of Unraveling – A night when the fabric of reality unravels, and the boundary between dimensions fades.

46. Hushmoor Eve – A silent evening where all sound is banned to prevent awakening the slumbering dead.

47. Cryptwatch Festival – Vigilant watch over ancient crypts, where treasure seekers try to unlock the secrets of eternal life.

48. Wraith’s Breath – A chilling wind blows through town, said to be the breath of wraiths hunting for souls.

49. Duskmire Celebration – A festival in a swampy region where creatures of the mire rise to celebrate with the living.

50. Moonless Descent – A night where the moon disappears and the world descends into a temporary abyss, where anything can happen.

[kaidabakugou]

PAIRING: FOREST GOD VIDAR! BAKUGOU X ELF! READER

WARNINGS: some graphic descriptions | mentions of death | cunnilingus | pubes | hint of body worship | nipple play | marking | biting | blood | blood drinking | spit | breeding kink | hint of dumbification | some hair pulling | overstimulation

WORD COUNT: 7.4K

A/N: proud to finally be able to share with you guys my submission for Touch of Divine Rush Collab by @dark-mnjiro, i love Norse Mythology and had lots of fun writing this one so i hope you enjoy my little knowledge dump plus my interpretation of what Vidar’s journey would look like after Ragnarök

i also made a GLOSSARY to help you understand some of the terms and old Nordic language used without the need of researching it yourselves, please enjoy and tysm for reading!

The air felt thick as ash rained down upon the battle grounds, the remnants of the wrath from the towering flames of the fire giant evident all around as the silent god took in his surroundings. His foot still perched atop Fenrir’s fiery jaw as he looked down at the mangled wolf, a sharp pain making itself known on his palm when adrenaline started to subside from his body. Noticing one of Fenrir’s fangs pierced into his right hand where he held the beast’s jaw open seizing it before bracing his lower foot, adorned with his magical leather shoe, against its lower jaw and tearing it apart as the prophecy intended. Successfully avenging his father, Odin, after his journey ended being devoured by the foul monster.

Bakugou could barely see a few feet around him, the sky burned black as the flames reached all the way up to the stars, consuming them as not even the cosmos could evade their fate of being swallowed by the sea. Ragnarök, the final battle, had finally progressed to its final phase. And as the world burns in flames, Bakugou couldn't help but to inhale the stinging smoke around him, feeling it stain his lungs as he closed his eyes towards the black sky.

Clearing his head from the chaos that surrounds him, beginning to feel the icy touch of Helheim against his scorching skin as he calls upon the forces of nature whom he trusted the most to guide him through this new journey.

Silence. 

A small smile adorned the god’s features as he accepted his fate, although destined to survive the destruction, he found it hard to believe in prophecies when the rumbling of the ocean’s hunger was making the ground beneath his feet tremble as it started to sink into the depths of the unknown. But the silence in his ears reassured him that he will once again rule over a regenerated earth.

Silence had been Bakugou’s strongest companion, known as the silent god for he desired nothing more than to be left alone to rule the forests who were bound by close ties to him where nothing but solitude and deep silence reigned. And his desires would soon be answered as droplets of water began to slowly quench his stained skin, the god’s deep vermilion irises fluttering open as the skies poured down on him. The flames around him began to die down as the sea rumbled again and Bakugou mentally kicked himself for doubting the Norn’s prophecy as their words echoed in his head. 

“Early begun.” 

“Further spun.” 

“One day done.” 

“With joy once more won.”

Ragnarök wasn't the complete end of the world. Out of the sea, the earth started to rise again, new and filled with all shades of green where fields of grains soon began to grow without the hand of any god, human or elf to aid it. A new sun shined down upon the fresh world, and soon a new moon would follow suit as they both traveled the same path as their ancestors and returned to their old lawful regularity to keep earth from seeing the darkness of Ragnarök ever again. 

The surviving gods met at Ithavoll, once again a safe place for the gods to regather themselves as they built a new city and joined forces to bring earth back to its original splendor. But after a while, once the tasks at hand were complete and life on earth was once again restored, Bakugou left Ithavoll to take his throne in Landvidi, the wide lands. 

Where his glorious palace eagerly waits for his return, decorated with large green boughs and only the most delicate of flowers in the midst of an impenetrable primeval forest where he could peacefully reign among the silence of the trees. Where anyone who dared disturb his silence, will receive no mercy and awaken the same mighty god that tore Fenrir’s devilish jaws with his bare hands. Soon, everyone across the realm knew better than to enter the forests uninvited, for all who entered were never to be seen again.

All except one. 

Ever since you were a child, your mother would warn you to never go near the woods just off the threshold of Alfheim, the land of the elves. Hearing stories and tales of how those who had crossed were turned into corpses and left to rot by the border as a warning or were never to be heard from again.

Tales of giant man-eating beasts that would starve themselves and wait patiently for whatever ignorant soul dared set foot into their territory. Some would even say that the surviving dragons resided deep within the monstrous shadows of the tall trees, that reached so far up into the sky that no daylight could seep through. Blood-thirsty bees and spiders that would drain their victims of their blood to the very last drop, leaving them nothing but a mess of bones and dried flesh for the forest soil to consume. 

And those who managed to avoid such terrible fate and considered themselves lucky enough to reach deep within the forest to find the triumphant god’s palace in search of hidden treasures that only the remaining son of Odin could possess, would only be left wishing they would have died at the claws of the forests beasts, for they imagine their death would've been quicker compared to the merciless torture the retired god would greet them with before watering his rare carnivorous plants with their blood and feeding them their remains to keep them hungry for more. 

But you would argue the opposite.

The forest has always been kind to you, ever since you first stepped foot inside of it, back when you were just a small elf beginning to learn the elven ways of magic and strayed a little too far off the border in search of kalonji, a white-petaled flower that only grew near the thresholds of the forest and was a necessary component for brewing medicine due to the healing properties of its seeds. 

But by the time you finished collecting the rare flowers, you had already entered the forest and had no idea on how to return home. The warnings of your mother started to echo inside your head as panic began to settle in the more you looked around and the vast forest seemed to appear the same no matter which direction you faced. Sinking to your knees as tears started to cascade down your cheeks, dropping the basket of flowers beside you as you buried your face in your hands waiting for whatever horrid fate that would end your sorrows. 

Your choked sobs and sniffles were certain to attract one of the many beasts your mother had told you about, but when you started to hear the ruffling of leaves in steady steps getting closer, you never imagined coming face to face with one of the most beautiful creatures you had ever laid eyes on.

A white stag with the most piercing red eyes stared down at you warily. Large, majestic antlers adorned the sides of his head, resembling the leafless branches of the winter trees, as he cautiously smelled around you, taking in your scent while your cries died down in your throat as you stared up in awe at the towering giant. His large hooves were the size of your head, and his long legs were taller than you as you took in their size while he circled around you before settling on your opposite side.

Taking one last whiff of you before turning his snout towards your basket, inhaling the rich aroma of the kalonji before gently stealing one. Raising his head to stand tall in all his glory as he looks around whilst he eats it. You reached over and grabbed a flower as well, bringing it up to your nose to take in its bitter notes within its subtle floral fragrance before presenting it to the stag. To which he happily accepted as he lowered his neck towards you once again, taking your offering before beginning to walk past you and into the trees, stopping momentarily to look back at you only to find you already at his side as you two made your way through the extensive forest. 

You were unsure of where the stag was leading you, but you figured that sticking by his side would be better than waiting alone for the icy souls of Hel to take you. Taking in the vibrant colors of the forest as you found it hard to believe that so much beauty could hold such terrors, but you weren't going to remain present long enough to see it for yourself.

Along the way you encountered small white wood aster and yellow trout lilies that also possessed many medicinal benefits, taking some and putting them inside your basket for later while your started to carefully weave their small branches together, although your inexperienced hands were still clumsy, you still managed to keep all the flowers secure until finally closing it into a circlet. You've been so distracted with the flower crown in your hand that you hadn't noticed the stag had led you back to the threshold of the forest, being aware of your location once he stopped a few feet away from the treeline where you could see the busy city of Alfheim just past the bushes. 

Excited that you were going to be able to return home safely, you thank the stag as he looks down at you, giving you what felt like a nod before turning his body to leave. But stopping in his tracks when you ask him to wait as he gives you a confused look, watching as you walk up to him and offer him the crown you'd been building the whole path back. Those piercing vermilion eyes softening as he stares back down into your eager ones before lowering himself to your height, presenting you the top of his head while being careful not to hurt you with his antlers as you gently place the flower crown between them.

The different shades of yellow and green contrasting from his unique white fur beautifully as you feel his cold nose poke the side of your cheek before leaving a long wet lick on it, making you giggle before waving him off as you make your way down the hill and back to the city whilst he disappears back into the deep forest.

And ever since, each time you've gone to collect more kalonji, you'd find small and rather odd gifts near the flowers. Sometimes it would be random objects like polished stones and crystals, pretty feathers of all colors and sizes, and even sharp teeth that you could only imagine belonged to a creature far larger than those of these lands.

But mostly, you'd find only the rarest of flowers placed neatly upon the grass, looking so out of scenery as they wait for your arrival against the green fields. Flowers that you couldn't even begin to name since you'd never seen any others quite like them. Some would possess the most vibrant colors your eyes had ever seen, and others would have the most fragrant aromas to carry them despite their subdued appearance. Whatever the case, you'd always look forward to the little presents that awaited you on each journey to the border, and back then you were always so curious as to who could be leaving them for you to find at such opportune times. 

But now, nearly a vicennial of winters later, you still look forward to the same little surprises, only now you are well aware of who is responsible for leaving such treasures.

Making your way past the same threshold, you walk through the dense trees you've grown so accustomed to. Ever since that eventful day, the forest has always been kind and welcoming to you. Presenting you with an abundance of the same exotic flowers you would find when you were little, showing you paths filled with the same rare and delicate crystals you'd receive on occasions, and even the few animals you've had the fortune of meeting on your different journeys have grown a liking to you. 

But your reason to return to this forest always remained the same. 

Landvidi possessed only the most beautiful of landscapes, filled with the highest trees and tallest branches in the realm, lush vegetation and fresh flowers. Past the high grasslands, in the heart of the forest known as The Hall of Landvidi, is where the silent god’s palace is located. Surrounded by an even greater portion of earth’s natural beauty that paints a picture of solitude, for no being other than the retired warrior god could reach.

And as the protector of these lands, filled with ambition and strength, he is determined to ensure it remains that way. He has seen what destruction is like, lived it himself during the great battle of the destruction of the cosmos and all that lived within them, and will stop at nothing to keep the peace. 

Bakugou is the strongest of the gods, following Thor, and after fulfilling his fate as an avenger and brave warrior, his rebirth after Ragnarök symbolizes sustainability and regrowth. Being the only god known to be tied with nature, as most gods were connected to the sea through Heimdall, the watchman of the gods, Bakugou had always felt his soul to be more at peace within the wide lands. And even though he swore to never allow any trespassers into his territory, ever since he heard your cries all those winters ago, something within him told him you'd be the exception.

As you descend down the stoned path towards the small tunnel under the large oak trees, you take in a deep breath when the soft breeze hits your skin, the tunnel is formed by the widened crowns of the trees that spread and reached the branches of the oak trees on the opposite side, creating a beautiful passage towards the hidden waterfall ahead. 

From the oak branches, bellflowers of all colors hanged down decorating the path with a mesmerizing view. You reached up and collected some of the violet-blue flowers, making sure to grab several of their leaves as well. Although their petals had a mild taste, the leaves can be quite refreshing, and you knew the one you seeked would enjoy them. 

Securing them inside your basket next to the fresh apples you'd collected from your orchard, you resumed your way down the oak passage as the sound of the waterfall filled your ears. The Querencia Waterfall is the most beautiful of all the waterfalls in Landvidi, located just at the entrance of The Hall a few miles from the palace. It's the only waterfall in the land that’s so high, when the sun is at its peak some of its rays seep through the tall crowns of the oak trees, forming rainbows that look like they're cascading down along with the stream when they capture the water.

Surrounded by ancient willow trees, the lake where it pools contains powerful waters filled with passion and love from the root of the weeping willows that are believed to provide a nourishing embrace of fertility and healing. These were the only willow trees in all of Landvidi, after Ragnarök they became quite rare to find throughout the realms, so you were astonished when the white stag brought you here on one of your visits. Welcoming you into the water to bathe while he feasted on some of the exotic flowers that floated around different areas of the lake. 

You smiled to yourself as you think back on that day, remembering how nurturing the water felt around your body for the first time as its magic began to absorb into your skin. Your heart swelling when you recall feeling something being placed atop your head, only to find the stag adorning your hair with the water hyacinths he collected, rounding them on your head by tangling them with strands of your hair to the best of his abilities until it formed a circlet as his own way of thanking you for the crown you gave him on your first encounter.

You've been coming to Querencia ever since to meet with the stag, bringing him only the freshest fruits from your orchard and collecting flowers from the forest on your journeys to make more crowns for him as a thank you for all the treasures he leaves on the threshold for you. Sometimes he'd wait for your arrival near the berry bushes just off the edge of the forest and escort you through the wide lands filled with birch trees where many wildflowers favor growing near their roots so you can collect them. Other times, you venture into the forest at first daylight and wait for him in the water.

Today was one of those days as you reach the willow trees closest to the waterfall, settling your basket down near its roots as you begin to strip your garbs, folding them by the basket before entering the water. 

Submerging yourself deeper as the warm water sinks into your skin, the soft current wraps you in a state of tranquility whilst you absorb its properties before soon enough you spot the majestic antlers of the white stag. Smiling when you meet his gaze, noticing how his doe eyes seem to light up when he meets yours before entering the water with you, gracefully making his way towards you as water splashes around him from the force of his hooves. Giggling when he presses his wet nose against yours before lowering his soft furred forehead to your damped one. Something that had become a habit when greeting each other.

“God morgon, you came rather quickly today!”, you whisper against him as you greet him in the old language.

Although the old tongue was not commonly used anymore after the great destruction, you noticed you get a reaction from the stag when using some of the old words, almost as if he understood them better than the modern tongue. 

“I brought you something!”, you eagerly tell him, causing his ears to perk up at your announcement as you lift yourself from the water and start walking back towards the willow roots where you left your basket, the stag sauntering alongside you. 

Watching as you open your basket to reveal the shiniest of apples, his tongue dragging against his snout at the sight as he leans forward to eat one when you offer it to him, knowing your orchard produced some of the juiciest and most delicious ones in the realm after you watered them with the water you'd collected from the Querencia river. Offering him the bellflower leaves next as he accepted them and eating one yourself before diving back into the water. 

Fully submerging yourself as the stag followed suit, his smooth white fur now a light gray as it clung to him, droplets of water dripping from his antlers and falling against your skin when he circled closer for you to hold on to him as you swam together.

This was your usual routine on the days you'd meet on the waterfall, bathing together and feeding each other different fruit and flowers you'd bring to one another until the sun would start to disappear behind the mountains, indicating it was time to return home before nightfall. Currently seated on his back while he paraded you around the lake while eating some of the fruits on the bushes near the waterfall, sighing as you wished the stag could communicate with you further, even though you already communicated in your own unique way, exchanging gazes and gifts, and sharing intimate moments such as these that many would thought impossible to be as close to a rare white stag as you are with this one, you still wished he could speak sometimes and be able to tell you stories from the forest he knew so well.

“I wished you could speak to me”, you express as you rest your head against his neck, feeling the patches of hair beginning to fluff up from the breeze hitting his back where you laid. Ceasing his chewing at the sound of your voice as his ears flick at your words, turning his head to the side to look at you before softly snorting while rattling his antlers to signal you to alight and join him in the water again, to which you comply as you sink back in and circle him until you're facing him again. 

Smiling when he presses his cold wet nose against your stomach, snuffling up the center of your chest while leaving gentle licks on your skin before reaching your neck to nuzzle his jaw there as your hands pet along his broad shoulders and trailing them up his slender neck. He gives your side another lick before stepping back a few steps further from you as you stare back at him confused. Unsure of his behavior since he has never done this before when bathing together. 

But just as you begin to approach him again, you stop when the water around him changes its movements, once a steady stream now rapidly swirling with such force you could feel it pull you in closer. Trying your best to steady yourself in the water to swim away but as quickly as it came it dissipated, the water returned to its peaceful flow as if nothing had changed. Except now the white stag was no longer there, and in his place stood a man you'd never seen before.

A tall blonde with a strong physique of that of a warrior, adorned with battle scars and tattoos of old nordic runes on his chest traveling all the way down his abdomen and disappearing below his waist submerged in the water that you couldn't quite make out from your position. Rows of different stone necklaces, identical to the ones you gifted the stag a few winters back embellished his neck and a circlet of flowers sat atop his ash locks, the same crown of flowers you had placed on the stag not so long ago when you were riding him. 

You stood there frozen in place, still confused as to what had happened to the stag that was just standing before your eyes mere moments ago. Snapping out of your daze when the man started to come closer to you, water rippling around him with each step, similar to when the stag enters the water and it splashes from the might of his hooves. The man stopped in front of you as you peered up at him, the sun seeping through the trees hitting his chiseled face to reveal his piercing vermilion eyes.

The same pools of red that you'd recognize anywhere, the eyes staring back at you were the ones of the stag, eyes you'd look forward to seeing everyday when you woke up, a deep crimson you'd come to find in all things that reminded you of the stag, in the ripe apples of your orchard that he loved so much, in the rare red lilies that only bloomed during the early times of spring in the valley near the waterfall, in the polished pyropes stones he’d bring you every late winter and now in the body of a man whose presence felt familiar the more you took in the energy around him. 

He smiled when he noticed everything beginning to make sense to you when your widened eyes began to soften. 

“Elskan mín”, his voice low but eager as he wraps his arms around your waist and hoists you up to spin you around in the air, causing you to secure your arms around his neck while laughing before holding you close to him. Wet skin pressed against each other while strong arms keep you close as your legs instinctively wrap around his center.

Lowering your face towards him to nudge your nose against his before pressing your foreheads together, just like you would with the stag only now his nose is warm and the dampness of his forehead matches yours. 

“How come you hadn’t done this earlier?”, your eyes searching his as you notice him peering at your lips while you speak before meeting your curious gaze again. 

“Didn’t want to scare you away”, he answers simply whilst pressing kisses along your jaw sporadically. 

“Why now then?”, you push while allowing your digits to travel up and down his nape, tangling with his hair. 

“It just felt right”, he whispers while fondling one of your braids with the charms of your mother, she had removed them from her locks and secured them in yours before passing so you could have a piece of her with you when she could no longer be present in body but carry on in soul and spirit.

His hand traveled down to your shoulder where old nordic runes adorned your skin as well, only yours possessed sacred sigils of the old elven folklore, while his runes were of a time before Ragnarök. Which made you wonder if this was the retired god of vengeance everyone was so wary of, he evidently possessed the powers of one and if anyone was to allow the welcoming treatment the forest has presented you with all these years, it was him. 

You reach for the hand still tracing the runes on your skin to cradle it in yours as you turn it so his palm could be facing you, whilst he watched as you inspected his hand. Smiling again when you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, almost able to see the ripples of electricity in your head as you put all the details together, a habit of yours that he loved to observe throughout the years since meeting each other.

To Bakugou, out of all the creatures that had stepped foot inside his forest seeking his aid, you were the most beautiful he had ever seen, no flower from his garden could compare to you, and since the day he met you he swore that one day you would become his goddess, and he has remained by your side since, waiting for this exact moment that he'd be able to finally show himself to you and solidify your love. 

He watched as you traced the scar on his palm, a reminder of the path he once walked guided by the burdens of fate. Your eyes meet his again when you finally put all the clues together, noticing how he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, and to him you were, for you had become his purpose after no longer having interest in matters of war and retiring to spend eternity within the silence of the wide lands. 

“You're him… the silent one”, only receiving a nod in return as more answers arise in your head, but settling on the one that dominated your thoughts the most.

“Why me?” 

“It's always been you, elskan mín… and now we are able to seal our love for one another.” 

All your questions are melted away when he pulls you towards him and captures your lips in a kiss so fervent that causes your insides to stir with emotion. Only pulling away when the need for air becomes inescapable as you pant against each other's lips. 

“I’ve waited so long to do that”, he exhales while making his way towards the shore with you still secured in his arms. 

The fresh spring breeze hitting your skin when you leave the comfort of the water makes you shiver, a small hint of winter still present in the air as the forest was still transitioning from the stabbing cold into the warm energetic glow that this season brought along with it.

Your nipples pebbling at the loss of heat from the god’s body when he sets you down on the soft clearing of moss and wildflowers under the tallest willow tree. Something that doesn't go unnoticed by him as he peers down at you, now able to openly devour you with his eyes whilst you lay under him, strong tatted arms caging you between them as he lowers himself to capture your lips once again.

All the tales of the remaining son of the once All-Father were of his brash and merciless demeanour, ones that were bound to inflict fear upon anyone that heard them, but all those stories drifted into distant whispers of the wind the more you got lost in him. His touch was firm yet delicate, something that would seem impossible for his physique with such imposing structure, but it was possible. His touch was filled with love and spoke the words his voice failed to express. And only now that his lips trailed open-mouthed kisses along your skin, is that it becomes evident to you the extent of said love as you look back on all the years you've spent together. 

Courting the other in the shape of flowers, stones and apples, in a dance of mighty passion that led to this exact moment as he settled himself between your legs, positioning your thighs above his broad shoulders whilst his fingers traced informal shapes on them. His eyes fixated on the tuft of hair above your cunt as he sinks down to bury his nose in it, inhaling your scent as you watch his eyes darken from finally being able to delve in the thing he craved the most after so long.

Maroon eyes meeting yours while his lips follow the trail of hair down towards your sensitive lips, the feel of his hot breath alone making you clench around nothing as you watch him hover above your cunt, puckering his lips so a long strip of spit falls from them and lands on your clit. Watching as it slides through your folds before pressing his tongue flat on your entrance and licking all the way up to your clit, repeating the action as he falls into rhythm. Feeling yourself get increasingly wetter with each swipe of his tongue while your chest starts to rise and fall unevenly. 

Getting lost in the pleasure as your hips begin to buck when his tongue focuses on your clit, circling it before rapidly flicking against it causing something to ripple inside of you. He wraps his lips around the sensitive bud while his eyes look up in awe at the way you arch into him, your cries unleashing the might in him that had been forgotten for centuries as he sucks on your clit with more vehemence, needing to hear you sing for him louder. 

Increasing his movements as he begins to suck on your folds, the feeling of his lips messily fondling with yours sends chills across your skin as you slowly rock your hips along with him. Your hands reach for his where they rest on your hip bones as he easily opens them for you to tangle your fingers with his whilst he continues to increasingly devour your cunt. The wet smacking sounds of his lips clashing with the ones of the waterfall as you feel yourself get closer and closer to your release.

The sweet taste of your fluids on his tongue drove Bakugou into a frenzy, lapping and eating your cunt while whined grunts resonated from deep in his chest, the vibrations pushing you over the edge. Arching deeper into his touch as wanton moans escape your lips, white spots clouding your vision when he buries his face further into your cunt, nose rubbing on your clit while he drinks every last drop of your release, not stopping until he gets his fill. 

Parting from your cunt once your whines die down into heavy breaths, face stained with your fluids that he pays no mind to as he dives back in to place a tender kiss against your clit before trailing up to the tuft of hair, savoring your scent as he buries his nose in them again and runs his lips against them. Pulling your hairs between them, the slight tug making you peer down at him as you meet his eyes, filled with love and adoration mixed with something else, something more sinister and hungrier that hasn't been sated completely.

Watching as he presses a kiss to your hairs as well before continuing to trail them up your abdomen, never breaking eye contact as he reaches the valley of your breast. His hands untangle from yours as they glide against your sides to cup your boobs, shaking them in his grasp before capturing one of your pert nipples in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it while he sucks them harder and slowly pulls back until it flicks out of his mouth with a wet slurp, to then switch and give the other nipple the same treatment. Alternating between both breasts as your whines encouraged him on, not stopping his ministrations until your chest was swollen and overstimulated, almost making you reach your climax once again but pulling away to edge you on as he continued to lay kisses against your chest before moving towards your neck. 

Shifting from tender to ravenous when he starts to mark your skin with his teeth, nipping across your throat until settling where your neck meets your shoulder. Feeling his tongue drag against your skin followed by a sloppy kiss before his teeth scrape your delicate skin, your cunt clenching in anticipation as you wait for him to finally give in to his desires. 

Bakugou could hear his heart beat loudly inside his ears as he began to sink his teeth in you, pressing down until the skin gave away against his force, the rush of blood drowning his taste buds making the loud beating cease into silence as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

The mighty god had left the path of war behind a long time ago, but one's nature can’t be so easily avoided as the craving for disaster and vengeance haunted him at times from a period where the blood of his enemies would quench his skin, finding its way to his lips, reminding him what victory tastes like.

So as the savory metallic taste pours down his throat, he can't contain the groan that escapes him as a chill runs down his spine making him grind against you whilst your sweet cries pull him from his silence. Withdrawing from your skin to lap up the remaining rush of blood before cradling your face in his hand, holding your jaw firmly as he presses his lips to yours. Kissing you with such might you feel he could almost devour you through the kiss as the taste of your own blood mixing with each other's spit sends you both in a trance as you continue savoring it.

Bucking your hips to grind against his cock as his hips follow suit, beads of precum mixing with your arousal as he rubs his length between your folds whilst his tongue tangles with yours. Too engrossed in the kiss to pull away, you sneak your hand between your bodies and guide his cock to align with you as he slowly begins to sink into your cunt. The stretch of his cock sends a hot wave of pleasure down your back as your cunt sucks him in further, inch by inch as your fingers curl around ash blonde strands. 

Your breaths become labored as you part from each other, lips swollen and red as he fully sinks into your warmth. The grip from your silken walls forces him to brace himself as he places his arms next to your head to keep himself from collapsing when he feels his thighs twitch. Pressing his forehead to yours when his hips start to rock into you, slow and steady at first before gradually increasing his thrusts into a brutal pace that drives both of you into a babbling mess. 

Your wetness gushing messily, soaking the untamed strands of ash hair on his pelvis as they bounce against your own, before dribbling onto your skin causing it to spread in sticky strands every time his hips part from yours to snap against them again. Strangled moans mixing with the sloppy sounds of your bodies as the sensations become overwhelmingly good.

Tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you look up at him, trying your best to answer him when he asks you to tell him how good it feels between the curses in old tongue and heavy grunts that escape him. Responding to what feels like incoherent babbles as your mind melts away the more he pounds into your sloppy pussy. 

Bakugou could feel his balls twitch as he neared his release, but he needed you to come undone with him and make an even greater mess on his cock for him. Shifting his weight on one arm while the other gives your breast a quick tug before reaching between your bodies as he starts drawing quick circles against your clit with his thumb. Sending an electric shock of pleasure through your body as your breath gets stuck in your throat before you start coming apart. 

Squeezing around him hard as a flow of arousal gushes between your bodies as it stains both of you and leaks down into the soil beneath you. Your walls clenching around him mixed with the obscene sounds coming from your pussy sending him over the edge as well as he buries his cock to the hilt, filling you up as the hand on the side of your head tangles with your hair when yours tug harder at the one on his nape.

The tears finally spilling from your eyes as hot - impossibly hot - globs of creamy cum spill against your sultry cunt, searing your insides as you find yourself never wanting this moment to end, wishing to always be plugged full of the vengeful gods mighty cum. Feeling the final pulses of his cock inside you as his head falls down against your shoulder, smiling to yourself between heavy breaths at the wet feel of his ecstasy filled tears smearing against your skin but choosing not to say anything as he fully allows his weight on top of your whilst your arms wrap around him. 

Giggling at the soft lips pressing feather-light kisses on the side of your neck as they slowly trail up towards your lips, capturing them in a gentle kiss while his fingers caress your scalp where he previously had a grip on your hair.  

A cold breeze pulls you both from your trance as the rustling of the willow tree above you fills your ears, once again reminding of the remnants from the harsh winter as goosebumps erupt from your skin. You notice how the waterfall no longer has a rainbow flowing through it, indicating that the sun has already begun to set, and you need to return home quickly.

You've never stayed in the forest long enough to see nightfall, and the stag would always make sure to escort you back to the treeline safely before sunset, but today time had slipped from your hands and you began to worry. Bakugou is quick to notice your concern as he wraps his arms around your center to hold you close, burying his head in the crook of your neck again and taking a deep breath as he inhales your warm scent. 

“I have to leave”, you remind him but still reciprocate his actions by wrapping your arms around him again as you also hated the idea of having to depart from this moment. 

“Stay”, he whispers against your skin followed by a swipe of his tongue against the dried blood around the punctures on your neck. 

“There is nowhere for us to st-”, you began to dissent, but the forest god silenced you by quickly pulling you into a kiss once more. Grin on his features that you couldn't help but smile in return despite your disapproving eyes.

“I want to show you something”, he guides your legs to wrap around his waist before rising from the ground with you secured in his arms as he carries you through a path of the forest you hadn't explored before. The sun was already halfway past the mountains, making it hard to see, but just as you were about to express your concerns to him, a light in the corner of your eye caught your attention. A small blinking light followed by another until an entire cloud of dancing lights was illuminating your path.

After Ragnarök, it was rare to catch a glimpse of certain insects, fireflies being one of them, so seeing so many in one place had your jaw slack as you watched how they gracefully danced under the upcoming moonlight whilst they guided you through the forest. 

Bakugou kept walking through the field of thinning willow trees that started to morph into magnificent maple trees that even with only the dim light of the fireflies, you could vividly see their vibrant colors. These acer trees had also become a rarity after the great destruction, and the analgesic in their bark was of high command to aid as a remedy for some illnesses, which made you wonder why he hadn't shown you this part of the forest before. The stag had always granted you access to all the rare medicinal flora found in these lands so you found it odd that he kept this area hidden from you. 

Your confusion only grew more as you made your way deeper into the darker trails of the maples, where the path seemed to end by a sealed corridor blocked off with an impenetrable wall of large roots and maple leaves.

“Blómi”, you hear Bakugou whisper as the sound of creaking wood follows, watching as the roots begin to untangle from each other and the leaves falls to the ground revealing a path of lit stones descending into a large garden with a great abundance of flowers, leading towards a large structure. 

Your jaw fell slack again, as you wouldn't have imagined  that this is where the silent god kept his palace, nor that such a vibrant area filled with such sublime greatness of nature could be hidden amid the sacred gloom of the maples. Bakugou couldn't help but smile as he carried you through his garden whilst you stared in complete enchantment, filled with joy that he could finally share his greatest treasures with you. 

The inside of the palace was equally as marvelous as the outside and had a beautiful golden fountain at the very center with small creeks that led to other corridors of the palace, ones you couldn't wait to explore once daylight came again. As for now, the mighty god was still carrying you towards what you could only imagine were his chambers as he ascended the grand staircase near the main entryway. Revealing an archway adorned with flowy white curtains that led inside his bedchamber where he set you down on the spacious bed at the center of the room. The bedding was soft and cozy as you sink deeper into the comfort of them, noticing how the moon sat perfectly above the palace where you had a clear view through the sunroof above the bed.

“Hí, elska”, you heard Bakugou whisper next to you, offering you a coconut shell filled with water. 

“Takk!”, you smile while grabbing the shell and drinking from it, finishing its contents before settling back down on the bed as a yawn escapes you, sleep finally catching up to you after such a fulfilling day. Settling against his chest whilst Bakugou worked his fingers through some of the tangles bathing earlier might have caused.

“God natt, ásynja mín”, he boasts, a grin spreading at your widened eyes looking up at him. 

“Ásynja?”, you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly to which he only nods in return as you match his smile. 

“Yes, ásynja mín, for everything I own is now yours as well”, he adds while nodding towards the room, confirming that he meant the palace and everything within his forest was now yours to rule alongside him for eternity. 

And you couldn't be happier as you drift off to sleep against the god’s chest, neither could him as he placed a gentle kiss against your forehead before peering up at the moon. Asking his father if he was watching as he finally found the one with whom his soul delights in after many years of hard battles, he has completed the prophecy he set for himself all those winters ago when he met you, now with a content smile as he buried his nose in your head, excited for what the future awaits as the rulers of Landvidi.

[kendyzzlewp]

please, I’ve been on my knees, change the prophecy

jackson avery x fem!reader

summary: you watched in horror as the bus exploded, jackson no where to be found

type: angst - love confession - friends to lovers

The world around you seemed to slow down, each raindrop hitting your skin like a heavy weight as you watched in horror. The bus, engulfed in flames, painted a terrifying picture against the dark, rainy backdrop. Your heart pounded violently, a painful rhythm matching the chaos before you.

"Where's Jackson?" Your voice cracked with fear, desperation creeping into every syllable as you searched the chaos for him. "Torres, where's Jackson?"

Calle rushed past, her face a mask of grim determination as she shouted back, "He's right behind us!"

Your feet moved of their own accord, carrying you closer to the inferno despite the danger. "Jackson!" The name tore from your throat, a primal scream of terror and love.

But before you could reach him, Owen's strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you back with a force that matched the explosion that followed. The world seemed to explode around you, the heat searing your skin, the sound deafening as flames licked at the sky.

As you fell to the ground, the world became a blur of agony. The image of the burning bus, the screams of pain and fear, all merged into a cacophony of despair. And then, as if from a great distance, you heard it.

A gut-wrenching scream, raw with agony and loss. It took you a moment to realize that the sound was coming from you, ripped from your very soul as you watched, helpless, knowing that you were losing the person who mattered most to you.

You looked up at the sky, tears mingling with rain as you pleaded with whatever higher power might be listening. "Please," your voice was a broken whisper, "don't take him. Let it be me. Take me instead."

But the sky remained silent, offering no solace as you were left to face the devastation before you, a world shattered by flames and loss.

Through the raging flames, a silhouette emerged, barely visible amidst the inferno. It was Jackson, his figure illuminated by the flickering fire, holding a little girl close to his chest. Tears welled in your eyes as relief flooded through you, mingling with the haunting specter of what could have been.

With each faltering step, Jackson battled against the relentless blaze, his determination a beacon of hope in the darkness. You watched, heart in your throat, as he drew nearer, the flames licking dangerously close to his weary frame.

As he finally reached you, his breaths ragged and labored, he gently passed the trembling child into her mothers arms. She clung to her desperately, her tiny fingers digging into her skin, seeking solace from the nightmare that surrounded her.

With tear-filled eyes, you looked up at Jackson, his face streaked with ash and exhaustion. "You're an idiot," you whispered, the words a fragile prayer of gratitude.

He nodded weakly, a flicker of a smile ghosting across his soot-stained lips. "I know," he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper.

Fury surged within you, mingling with the overwhelming relief as you looked up at Jackson, his face etched with exhaustion and soot.

"You can't just do that!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. "Do you have any idea what would have happened if you didn't make it out of there?"

Jackson's brow furrowed in confusion, his gaze searching yours for understanding. "I... I needed to save her," he murmured, his voice strained with emotion.

“And what about me?" Your voice cracked with emotion as tears spilled down your cheeks. "What would have happened to me if you had died in there?"

For a moment, Jackson seemed at a loss for words, his eyes wide with realization. And then, as if a dam had burst within him, he reached out to you, his fingers brushing against your tear-stained cheek.

"I... I didn't think," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I didn't realize..."

"You idiot," you breathed, your voice softening with love and exasperation. "I love you, you moron."

And as you melted into each other's arms, surrounded by the remnants of the devastation, you knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, you would face them together, bound by a love that could withstand even the fiercest flames.

[rafedarling]

𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧

pairing: drew starkey x reader

summary: back to the 1980s era, in a quiet corner of southern italy, you and drew find solace in each other’s company on a rainy evening. the two of you sit by the pool, with “downtown” by triathalon playing on an old radio. you, with your red lipstick and nightgown, enjoy a cigarette while drew swims languidly in the pool. the conversation between you unfolds softly, revealing the deep connection and unspoken emotions shared between you. | word count: 615 (small drabble 🫣)

warning(s): english is not my native language. contains smoking, reflective conversations, and a tranquil, nostalgic atmosphere filled with tender moments.

au: like, reblog and comment are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @mileyraes @xoxohoneymoongirl @enjoymyloves @tracymbcm @rubixgsworld @akobx @maybankslover @nemesyaaa

“Do you think the rain will ever stop?” Drew’s voice drifted from the pool, soft and contemplative, as he floated on his back, his eyes fixed on the cloudy sky above.

You took a slow drag from your cigarette, savoring the familiar taste. The rain was a steady drizzle, tapping gently against the surface of the pool and mixing with the dreamy melody of “DOWNTOWN” playing from the old radio.

“I don’t know,” you replied, your voice calm and unhurried. “But I kind of like it… the rain, I mean.”

Drew turned his head to look at you, his lips curving into a lazy smile. “You like everything, don’t you? The rain, the quiet, the music…” He let his voice trail off, his tone filled with a kind of admiration.

You shrugged lightly, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you exhaled the smoke. “What’s not to like? It’s peaceful. Feels like the world slows down, like we’re the only ones here.”

“Yeah,” Drew murmured, his gaze lingering on you. He swam closer, resting his arms on the pool’s edge beside where you sat. “And you… you look like you belong in a painting, you know that?”

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, though you played it off with a small laugh. “You’re always saying things like that. I’m just sitting here, Drew.”

He shook his head, droplets of water trickling down his face. “No, it’s more than that. The way the rain falls around you, the way you sit there with your red lips and your nightgown…” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “It’s like you’re part of this place, part of the moment. I can’t look away.”

His sincerity caught you off guard, making your heart beat a little faster. You glanced away, focusing on the faint glow of your cigarette as it burned down. “You always know how to make something simple sound like poetry.”

“Maybe that’s because you make the simple things feel special,” Drew replied quietly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You looked at him then, really looked at him, with the rain running down his face and that earnest expression in his eyes. There was something about the way he was watching you, something deeper than just the words he was saying. You could feel the weight of it, the unspoken connection between you, humming softly like the music in the background.

You leaned down a little closer, a smirk on your lips. “You’re not just trying to distract me from your bad swimming, are you?”

Drew laughed, the sound rich and warm, cutting through the quiet. “Hey, I’m not that bad! But if it means I get to hear you laugh, maybe I’ll take the blame.”

You shook your head, grinning as you flicked the ash from your cigarette. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Maybe,” he conceded, still smiling as he propped his chin on his arms, staring up at you with that same, soft look. “But at least I’m good company, right?”

You felt your chest tighten slightly, a warmth spreading through you despite the coolness of the rain. “The best,” you admitted softly, feeling the truth of it settle between you.

The song on the radio faded out, the last notes lingering in the air, and you both sat there in comfortable silence, the rain and the quiet stretching out the moment.

Drew reached out and gently took your hand in his, the touch warm and grounding, and you knew that in this quiet corner of the world, with the rain falling around you and the echoes of music in the air, you’d found something rare and beautiful.

[mothiir]

penance

the black templars discover human women. Nothing nsfw, only vaguely lewd, with canon typical violence and religious themes. Possibly will follow up with a smut if the spirit moves me

alternative summary: where is this strumpet so I might detest her with my own eyes

—

—

Isaiah takes his helm off to inhale the sweet scent of battlefield smoke. The sky is ruddy with dawn, and the last of the heretic cities is nothing more than smouldering rubble, the would-be rebels against the Emperor’s Will either dead or soon to be. Those too young, or too elderly, to have served a meaningful part in the uprising may yet find redemption as Chapter serfs or servitors — after all, there is little point to justice if there is no mercy to go alongside it. 

Sweat gilds his high cheekbones, and drips down his nape. Taking a moment away from his brothers to say his private prayer of thanks to the Emperor is one of the small ways Isaiah keeps his sanity during these long campaigns. He would fight and die beside his brethren with pride — and yet if he has to hear one more of Reuben’s jokes, he may consider —

No. No, none of that, not even in the privacy of his own head: he must be grateful, always. Mindful and grateful of the Emperor’s blessings. Reuben is a blessing. A hardship, yes, but so often blessings take the form of hardships; of lessons to learn. Reuben is an excellent soldier, and an exercise in patience. 

Perhaps it is the thought of Reuben’s damned puns that drives him further than usual, or the desire to admire the sight of a battle hard-fought. Either way, Isaiah ends up a good five hundred feet from camp before he quite realises it, crunching over charred bones and burned, unrecognisable standards.

Then: a sound. Thin, high, and vaguely organic. At once, he replaces his helmet, Captain Ezra’s words echoing in his memory: boy, there is no point prancing around like the main character in a holo — the enemy does not need to see your pretty face, and nor do I.

Anyway. The noise. His scanners alert him to a life form, hidden behind a pile of corpses. Humanoid. Rabbit-hearted, and trying very hard to remain unseen. 

He upholsters his bolter, and stalks forwards: a faceless, merciless instrument of the Emperor’s wrath. 

—

The clouds hang thick and red, like they have absorbed all the blood spilt today, and the heat is oppressive. A thunderstorm is coming; you taste it in the air. Soon, the rain will extinguish the last of the flaming rubble on this planet you once called home. It will fill the empty eye sockets of those who died for the delusions of your rulers. It will wash the land clean. 

And you doubt you will see it. 

As the Templar yanked you from the rubble, your shoulder had popped from its socket with a sick, wet crack; you had only kept yourself from crying out by biting into your tongue. Now your right arm hangs useless by your side, radiating bright veins of sheer agony. You daren’t make a move to cradle it, to ease your discomfort. 

“Your world is guilty of the crime of sedition,” intones the Templar, his voice as final as a tombstone falling into place. “Your leaders rebelled against the Divinity of the Emperor, and —“

”And I should die for it,” you manage, through lips gummed together with dried saliva and ash. “Because we let it happen.”

He pauses. The subtle tilt of his helm could be curiousity; could be an invitation to continue; could be nothing at all. But you are not dead. Not yet. Something in your chest is kindled, and you remember when you were little, at a school now nothing but ash, how your teacher would complain: that girl, she always has something to say.   

“We let it happen,” you continue, not sure if you are arguing for your life or begging for martyrdom. “We saw the upper echelons turn to Ch — the accursed powers.” Thou shalt not speak the name of the beast, you remember reading somewhere, lest thou invite it in to feast. “And we did not stop them. We worked away, heads bent and faces averted, and we obeyed orders, and the rot spread and ruined our world. I — I thank you, for your cleansing fire, for your — for His mercy. For bringing the Light of the Emperor to this place.”

You cannot curtesy, not in this shape, and so you drop straight to the ground, knees smacking into hard stone. You bare your nape, awaiting judgement, awaiting the blade, your heart singing against your ribs, that desperate song, that too-late plea: oh I want to live. Emperor above, let me live. 

—

“That is a woman,” says Reuben, like he has never seen one before. 

”Yes, Reuben, that is a woman.”

“In our dormitory.”

”Yes,” Isaiah says. ”She is in our dormitory.”

As this world lacks any proper infrastructure — due to the intensive bombing campaign needed to bring it back to the Emperor’s Grace — the Astartes have retired to their battle barge, as Marshal Ezra Rothenberg plans their next movements. 

Isaiah is honoured to consider himself part of the Edessan Crusade. There are more than two thousand of his brothers dedicated to the continued extirpation of Chaos from the Edessan system: a task that was predicted to take ten solar years, and yet is proceeding far ahead of schedule — due, in no small part, to the enthusiastic participation of the new recruits Guilliman so kindly provided them. If Guilliman hoped that the Primaris Marines would take the edge off the Black Templar’s well-known zealotry, he was swiftly disappointed. Within a few days of arriving, the only way to differentiate between the new recruits and their more seasoned brothers was size. 

Isaiah shares a barren dorm with Reuben, and three other brothers. They sleep on plain metal bunks, with a rough woollen blanket and a thin pillow. Other Chapters, Isiaiah has heard, are so decadent and spoiled as to have duvets — which are sacks of feathers — and sometimes even something called a mattress? Absurd. He pities his fellow Primaris Marines, shipped out to such degeneracy. He hopes that they can cultivate an appropriate sense of duty and decorum in the older generation. How can anyone value such petty things as comfort when the Emperor’s enemies still draw breath?

You are sitting on Isaiah’s bed, the blanket around your shoulders, your eyes wide. You have not spoken since he brought you here — barely whimpered when he popped your shoulder back into place. 

“…what is her purpose here?” Reuben says. He sits on his own bunk, opposite Isaiah, his afternoon reading (a hagiography of one of the more exciting saints) sprawled forgotten on his lap. 

“Chapter serf,” says Isaiah. 

“Do we need more serfs?”

”Yes. We do. The ones we have are — uh —very devout — “

The pair grimace. The fact that the serfs spend so long in prayer is to be admired, but it doesn’t often leave them much time to perform their duties. Isaiah is sick of doing his own mending because Serf Osric and Serf Jean are once more faint from fasting and all-night vigils to the glory of the Emperor. 

“Did the Marshal allocate her to you?”

Isaiah pulls an interesting series of expressions. ”Not…exactly,” he allows, unwilling to lie, and yet not wanting to admit the truth. “But he has been…busy, of late.”

”Yes. Busy. With crusading against the Emperor’s enemies.”

”Too busy to be concerned with this sort of thing,” Isaiah says, hesitantly, dangling the bait before Reuben, waiting for him to take it. Reuben leans forwards to better observe you. Isaiah feels a strange twist of pride when you don’t cringe from his regard, but meet his dark eyes with your own, your chin tipped up, your fingers curling into the blanket. Then you suddenly seem to remember who you are, and where you are, and drop your head in supplication. 

“Yes,” Reuben says, slowly. “Far too busy to be concerned with this. Don’t want to bother him.”

Isaiah utters a fervent prayer of thanks to the Emperor, feeling only a little guilty at thanking Him for his brother’s aid in deceiving their Marshal. But it wasn’t really deception, was it? They weren’t lying to him at all — they just weren’t telling him! Completely different. 

“Exactly! It’s beneath his concern.”

”She’s beneath his concern!”

In total accord, both Templars grin at each other, before hurriedly smoothing their faces into expressions of solemn piety. 

“Yes, brother. I am glad that the Emperor has seen fit to deliver unto us a — hang on, can you sew?” Reuben says, addressing you directly. You glance up at Isaiah, then stammer:

“Y-yes my lord —“

“Excellent.”

Reuben kicks up and off his bunk, rummages in the steel box that contains all his worldly possessions, then throws a wad of fabric at you. It unfurls into a dozen pairs of socks that look very much worse for wear.

“Start with those. Then my tunic needs restitching — the Emperor’s Most Holy Iconography is starting to get a bit tattered. Then —“

”Brother Reuben, you cannot hog the new serf —“

”I am offering her the chance to redeem the sins of her forefathers and mothers with holy labour.“

“Well, yes,” Isaiah protests. “But the holy labour cannot just be confined to your menial tasks—“

”Why — do you have menial tasks that need attending to?”

”Yes!” Isaiah says, thinking of his own increasing pile of ragged undergarments. “You can mend Brother Reuben’s socks, and then you must attend to my laundry —“

”And then she can mend my tunic —“

”No, then she must pray,” Isaiah says, belatedly remembering the importance of even the most lowly baselines in adding their voices to the Emperor’s endless praises. “And attend chapel —“

”Where Marshal Ezra may behold her?” Brother Reuben says. “The serf that we do not strictly speaking have, as she has not been allocated to us?”

Ah. Yes. He had forgotten about that.

”She must pray while she works,” Isiaih amends. “And abase herself before the Emperor’s mercy.”

”Yes. But pray quietly.”

”Do you know the appropriate psalms to recite while conducting your redemptive labour?” Isaiah says. You chew your lip.

“The correct litanies while uh…mending the socks of the Emperor’s chosen may have not been included in my education,” you say. Isaiah sighs. Truly, you came from a blighted world. 

“You will learn them,” he says. “The Emperor will guide your tongue. If you fail to learn them then it is a sign that you have not received His Grace, and in that case fear not — we will deliver unto you the Emperor’s Mercy.”

“She will learn them,” Brother Reuben says, with a fervent and touching belief in humanity’s dedication to the Emperor.

 Or, perhaps, a fervent desire to have socks without holes in them. 

—

And so it goes. The Emperor sees fit to decree that the brothers that share Reuben and Isaiah’s quarters remain on the planet to build a chapter monastery there, taking advantage of the natural resources that are now free for use. No new brothers are installed in the dormitory — a great shame, of course, but it does have the benefit of ensuring that Brother Reuben and Isiaiah do not have to face awkward questions about your presence. 

Isiaiah has never been in close contact with baseline humans before, save the serfs aboard the fleet, and he knows that it is his duty to ensure that you are free of Chaos’s taint, and suitably devoted to the God Emperor. As such, he ensures that you have the appropriate reading material, and tests you to ensure that you can recite the benedictions. The first time you stumbled over an incorrect word, he had sighed deeply and sorrowfully, reaching for his bolter. Brother Reuben had dragged him to the side and explained — in hurried whispers — that humans do not have the same eidetic memory as Astartes, and the misstep was not indicative of a lapse in faith but simply a sign of your humanity. 

Fascinating. 

There are other baseline issues that surprise both brothers. They sleep perfectly well on their hard metal bed frames, and their serfs often deliberately braid thistles into their blankets in order to better scourge their flesh for the sin of being mortal. You, however, suffer greatly for the first few days. You end up with deep purple shadows beneath your eyes, and you wince when performing even the simplest of tasks. 

“I am sorry my lords,” you stammer, when Isaiah confronts you on your constant yawning. “It is just — I am cursed to be a woman, and thus I do not have the fortitude that you have, and my body is frail and weak and cannot find rest in the blessed conditions that you enjoy.”

Reuben magnanimously permits you the use of a blanket and two of the pillows left by his brothers. Isaiah thinks that pandering to your body’s frailty could well be slowing your path to redemption, but he bows to his brother’s greater knowledge. 

He is perturbed by how much you rest — as much as six hours a night, if you are permitted to sleep continuously. Once again, Reuben explains that this is normal for the baselines. Besides, if Isaiah wants devout serfs, he is more than welcome to once more entrust his care to Osric and Jean. 

Isaiah stops questioning your rest hours swiftly. He does not want to go back to the days of having to convince a flagellant to polish his pauldrons. Without the brothers seeking them out, the old serfs seem happy to spend most of their time in the chapel, or wandering the halls while caning themselves and loudly declaring the Emperor’s benevolence to all. 

Yes, Isaiah wants to say, we know He is very benevolent and very merciful. He also wants you to do your damn jobs. 

The first real challenge occurs ten days into your time aboard the barge. You drop to your knees before Isaiah, assuming the penitential crouch you always take on when you address either of them. The sight of you prostrate at his feet — spine a neat curve, head bowed, hands clasped — always makes Isaiah’s stomach warm and twist. He enjoys seeing you so keen to atone, so eager to please the Emperor, and to receive  His mercy. 

“My lords, I humbly beg your permission to take a moment to clean myself — I have not managed to do so since leaving my accursed planet, and I fear that I dishonour your presence by performing my duties while unwashed.”

”You have washed yourself,” Isaiah says, frowning. He’s seen you wipe your face and underarms with a wet rag, and you wash your hands every time you go to the bathroom (a sensitive experience for all concerned, given that one of them has to escort you to the nearest convenience, and the other has to stand watch to ensure no one sees you).

”Yes, but — a shower, my lords, that is what I am asking for.”

Isaiah sniffs the air thoughtfully. True, you do smell a little sourer than you did previously, but he has lived with far more odiferous people; Brother Reuben during his ‘bathing too frequently is decadent and an offence to the Emperor’ phase for one.

(That particular penitence had been ended when Marshal Ezra had thrown Reuben bodily into the icy plunge pool and announced to all that the Emperor suffered enough on His golden throne — the Templars did not need to add their stench to the tribulations He endured.)

”Humans require more maintenance than Astartes,” Reuben allows. “It cannot hurt to permit her to bathe.”

Still, they do not want to risk taking you to one of the communal showers, nor do they want to send you off to the serf quarters. Several of their brothers are already suspicious of their suddenly-improved attire, and the last thing either of them want is to face questions about your presence — or, worse still, a request to share. So Isaiah fetches a large copper tub used by the medicae for those too unwell to stand upright to bathe, and fills it with water, and Brother Reuben donates one of his scraps of yellow soap. 

“Th-thank you my lords,” you say, from your usual prostrate position; then you stand, a little unsure, eyeing them almost expectantly. The tub is set in the middle of the dormitory; Reuben is reading one of his favourite scriptures, while Isiaiah tends to his bolter. ”Uh — is it okay if I —“

You gesture at your smock. Isiaiah blinks at you. 

“Are you asking permission to bathe? I have said that you may — do not waste my time with needless questions.”

He turns back to his bolter, wiping the sacred oils onto the stock, murmuring the appropriate incantations to appease the machine spirit within. A flurry of fabric; a splash; a pained squeal. 

“This water is ice,” you yell, and Isaiah, startled, looks up. 

His hand remains looped around the bolter, polishing up and down, up and down — but he finds he cannot tear his gaze from you. The water comes up to your waist, but the rest of you is bare, your flesh goosepimpled from the cold, your arms clutching your torso. Your elbows press under your breasts, pushing them up, where they glisten under the harsh dorm lighting. As you shiver, one nipple flashes.

Brother Reuben stares as well. 

“Emperor preserve me,” he mutters, and Isaiah comes to his senses, turning his eyes aside. 

“Woman!” he says, sounding only a little strangled. “Cover yourself!”

Another splash. When Isaiah peeks up — just to check that you have ceased to offend the Emperor with your naked bosom — he is gratified to see that you are neck deep in water.

”S-sorry my lords,” you say, teeth chattering.

”You are a Chapter Serf of the Black Templars,” Isiaha says hotly, his grasp tightening on the bolter, his strokes growing surer and stronger, seeking solace in the familiar rhythm. “You must act in a way that is fitting for your station! Do not flaunt yourself so! You must conduct yourself with - with decorum, and modesty. Be demure! Mindful!”

Isaiah, a little breathless after his holy vitriol, looks to Brother Reuben for moral support. Reuben is looking fixedly at his book. 

“I saw nothing,” says the other Templar. “I am blind to that which does not beatify the Emperor Himself. The nudity of a serf has no bearing on my day’s prayer. It is as insignificant as the passage of a beetle along the floor.”

”Is that why you are reading your scripture upside down?”

Reuben does not look up, even as he turns the book the right way around. 

“Brother Isaiah, if you polish that gun any harder it is liable to blast a hole in the wall.”

”It is not loaded, Brother Reuben,” Isaiah snaps. “I am conducting my daily worship to the Machine Spirit.”

”Is that what you call it?” Reuben mutters, and Isaiah elects to ignore him. 

—

“Where did you obtain the uniform for her?” Isaiah says, the next day, his voice hushed. It is just after morning prayer-drills, and the pair are walking back to their dormitory to change, before their lunchtime prayer-drills.

”I — just from the other serf’s laundry,” says Reuben, casting a quick look around. The halls of the battle barge are more akin to that of a cathedral than a space-ship, with huge domed ceilings, and statues placed at regular intervals in well-lit alcoves. Isaiah normally takes great comfort in the stern regard of his immortalised forebears, but for some reason today he feels their gaze like a brand, like he is a neophyte and they are watching him commit some secret and terrible sin. 

“They do not fit her,” Isaiah says. Reuben frowns. 

“What do you mean?”

”I mean — “ Isaiah pauses for a moment, struggling to find the words. Emperor grant him Reuben’s lack of observational skills — truly, his brother is a sterling example of blind faith. “I mean…this morning. When she bent over to pick up the scripture. Her skirt. It — moved in a way that displayed her rump in a way that is most unbecoming to a serf.”

Reuben exhales, his jaw ticking minutely. “Oh? I did not notice. I do not make a habit of looking at the serf’s rear end.”

”I was not looking at her rear end!” Isaiah whisper-shouts. “It was…just there. Wiggling.”

”Wiggling?”

”Yes, wiggling.”

”Is our serf distracting you from your duties, Brother Isaiah?” Reuben says, in a tone of concern so genuine it feels like mockery. 

“No! I just — it would bring shame upon our crusade if our serfs are not modestly attired.”

”I quite agree. However, I would argue that our serf is very well attired. Covered up almost to the throat.”

”Almost,” Isaiah says. “When she bends over to wash her face in the morning, if you stand at the incorrect place in the dormitory, and you have the misfortune to be looking for a book on the other side of the room, and then you find yourself looking downwards at the incorrect moment so you may observe the flagstones, you will be cursed with a view straight down her sleeping smock — and you will see both her breasts, exposed quite fully! It is revolting. A blight upon the Emperor.”

”How hideous! We must of course remedy this at once.”

”At once.”

”However,” says Reuben, as they round a corner, approaching their dormitory. “In order for me to avoid benighting mine eyes with such a distasteful view, I would much appreciate it if next time the serf washes her face you were to demonstrate the precise angle that I should avoid standing at. For I only wish to see what is pure and just in the eyes of the Emperor, and in order to do so we must have a full understanding of where to avoid looking.”

Isaiah pauses for a moment. After all, is it not his duty to guide his brothers when they seek to avoid sin? “Yes,” he says. “I will ensure that I show you most where you must not stand, and where to avoid casting your eyes. And — if I may make a suggestion?”

”Of course, brother Isaiah.”

”Perhaps it is not the uniform. Perhaps it is the way the serf has learned to stand and bend. Coming as she does from such a depraved world, riddled with heresy, it is natural that she does not know the right and proper way for a servant of the Emperor to move. Perhaps we should ask her to bend over a few times for us, and thus we can best advise her on how to avoid unnecessary…wiggling.”

Reuben grins at the thought of guiding a sinner onto the path of the righteous. “Yes, brother Isaiah. I do believe we should.”

[malfoyscoffee]

cruel summer ౨ৎ theodore nott

pairing theodore nott x fem!reader genre fluff, slightest angst | 2.4k words | best friends to lovers warnings mentions of alcohol consumption, crying, and au with no voldemort. song "cruel summer" — lover, taylor swift

It was the best summer you could have asked for.

All your friends had decided to spend your last summer before graduation at one of your estates; one located in a small yet beautiful muggle town where no one knew of your identities.

Your big and empty villa helped everyone have their own space. Yet you had spent every waking moment making more fun memories and getting close to your friends, especially Theodore.

Even yesterday, the two of you went out to the nearby beach and returned drenched from the ocean water and rain combined, forgetting to bring spare clothes to the spontaneous trip. Your friends didn’t bat an eye when the two of you returned like wet dogs, knowing it was normal for you two to go on your own adventures.

Today marked the final three days before summer ended before you had to return to Hogwarts for your seventh year.

The sun was starting to set, painting the sky with pastel colors, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of ash from the bonfire that Mattheo and Blaise had started. Your group had recently learned of a muggle snack called Smores, so everyone found a spot around the fire, trying to make the treat for the first time.

“We should all go out to the town bar later tonight since it’s better to be hungover tomorrow than the last day,” Draco suggested, leaning back in his seat as you took a bite out of the dessert. You leaned over to Theodore, who shared the spacious seat with you, letting him take a bite too.

"That’s a brilliant idea, it's our last night to drink before we start the semester,” Mattheo agreed, nodding along with what most of the group was thinking.

Theodore shifted next to you, leaning down on your shoulder while speaking up, “I’m feeling a bit under the weather, so go without me.”

You looked at your best friend closely, not realizing sooner that he had felt sick today.

"Did you catch a cold from yesterday?” Pansy inquired, reaching over to one of the plates to grab some graham crackers. There were many plates sprawled out over the side tables filled with crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars.

You felt Theodore nod next to you, "Yeah, I think it’s from the rain yesterday, I’ll be fine though. You guys go without me,” Theodore reassured, popping a marshmallow into his mouth.

“I’ll come to pick you up if you want to head back early from the bar later,” He spoke with his mouth full, making you laugh as you could barely make out his sentence.

After he finished eating the marshmallow, he placed his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Thanks, Theo,” You said before taking the last bite of your Smore.

He smiled brightly at you before the group soon fell into different topics. 

You eventually got up from your seat, walking over to the girls to listen to the latest gossip that Pansy heard through the grapevine.

However, a conversation caught the attention of everyone.

“You're going to go abroad?” Lorenzo's eyes widened at Theodore's announcement, causing a hush to fall over the group.

You turned straight to where you were previously sitting. Blaise was the next to speak, “Mate, when was this decided?” Everyone waited for Theodore’s response while your nervousness suddenly kicked in.

Sure, none of you verbally discussed your future after Hogwarts, but it was a silent agreement assumption that all your friends would settle down nearby.

“I’m planning on going to the States for a while, nothing is set yet though.”

Your heart sank as you watched Theodore's gaze meet yours, his expression a mixture of regret and apprehension.

"When were you going to tell us?” You questioned, still shocked by this announcement.

He looked down at his hands, feeling ashamed for keeping this from everyone, especially you.

“i just didn’t know when to bring it up, so thanks Enz,” Theodore glared at Lorenzo, “For dropping the bomb like this.” He spoke sarcastically at the boy who sighed.

Astoria tried to lighten the mood, noticing the frown on your lips, “Draco, aren’t you going to London after we graduate?”

The conversation shifted to Draco’s plans to study in university longer to become a healer before the group shifted to another topic.

You couldn’t focus after hearing about Theodore’s future plans being abroad, meaning it would get hard to see him.

But why were you worried when he was just your best friend?

“Hey, can you both go inside and help me get more ingredients?” Pansy asked you and Astoria loudly, the two of you agreed to go inside for a moment.

“So, are you going to tell Theo?” Astoria looked at you, curiosity playing in her eyes. She walked over to the shopping bags on the kitchen island to grab more chocolate bars.

“Tell Theo what?” You stare at her with confusion, walking over to your pantry to grab the marshmallow bags. Pansy sighed, setting out more plates for the ingredients on the counter.

“Are you going to tell Theo that you like him?” You froze your actions for a second, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the marshmallow bag in your arms.

“What do you mean? We're just best friends.” You wave them off and open the bag.

Astoria slaps a hand to her forehead, “Yeah, but you fancied him for years! Also, the two of you have been hanging out every single day of our summer. What two best friends don’t get sick of each other and act like a couple?”

“Two blind idiots, that is.” Pansy finishes Astoria’s question, right as you finish pouring the marshmallows.

You sigh, “Okay, sure I fancy Theo. But you guys just heard that he’s leaving for the states after graduation. I won’t even see him, so it’s hopeless.”

You felt yourself getting more upset at the idea that Theodore didn’t tell you before, “Why did he hide that information though?”

Astoria walked around the kitchen island to comfort you, a hand resting on your back. "You know, it’s okay if you do end up confessing to Theo. We still have one year at school together,” Astoria comforted you.

Pansy picks up the plates you filled and sets it on the island, “Also, didn’t you hear when he said it’s not set yet? He might not go abroad, who knows?”

You turn around and grab the plates, walking towards the door to go back outside, “It's useless, he doesn’t like me back. Let's just forget this happened.”

A few hours later, you sat in a booth at the town’s muggle bar with everyone except Theodore.

The muggle bar was bustling with activity, filled with the raucous sounds of drunken laughter and the rhythmic beat of music from the large speakers. Your group opted to sit in the big booth instead, the furthest away from the commotion. This was more fun as it was similar to what you did at parties back at Hogwarts.

In front of you laid three empty pitchers, once full of dirty shirleys, the alcohol gone in two hours due to your rushed drinking.

“Can someone drink the rest of my vodka cran?” Astoria asked, leaning into Blaise’s shoulder. Everyone chuckled at her behavior, knowing Astoria was always the first one to get tired while drinking.

Blaise pushed her cup towards Mattheo, who gladly accepted the drink for himself. Most of your friends had a high alcohol tolerance, so it was expected to drink for hours.

“It’s okay, you can close your eyes for a bit,” Blaise spoke while looking down at Astoria with adoring eyes. The entire group saw the interaction, feeling bittersweet about the affectionate couple in your friend group.

“Salazar, if only I had a boyfriend who would watch me while I'm out drinking,” You spoke while grabbing Astoria’s—now Mattheo’s, drink and chugging it down.

Everyone was taken aback by your action because this was not how you usually acted during the many years of drinking with you. 

“You do have someone who takes care of you every time you drink.” Draco reminds you while pushing the vodka cranberry away from you.

You stare at Draco with wide eyes, “No, Dray, Theo only sees me as a friend.” You let out a dramatic sigh and your friends laugh at your obvious crush, which only Theodore hasn’t picked up on yet.

Draco puts his hands up in surrender, but with his signature smirk, “I didn’t even have to say his name for you to talk about him, huh?”

“Theodore Nott, my best friend, does not like me.” You groan while putting your hands on your eyes and leaning back in the comfortable seat.

Tears welled up in your eyes, catching everyone off guard as your emotions spilled over. “Guys, Thor’s going to leave for the States. How will I see him when he’s abroad for Merlin knows how long?”

Pansy started to pass your napkins to wipe away your tears, while Lorenzo took out his phone. “I’m going to text Theo to pick her up.”

Pansy nodded at Lorenzo before looking at you in pity, “Yeah, she’s going to be out soon.”

Everyone kept their gaze on you as your tears eventually stopped falling. “Rest your head and sleep a little.” Mattheo spoke while moving your head to his shoulder while you closed your eyes.

Seeing your eyes closed, Draco twirled the black straw in his cup, “So when do you guys think they’re going to get together?”

Pansy chuckled at the comment, taking out her phone to snap a few photos of you for memory's sake. “First week after we get back to school, I’ll bet on it.”

"I say in one day,” Mattheo chimed in with a grin, resuming the conversation while you rested.

"Theodore!” You exclaim while running to your best friend. You pull him into a hug while breaking into a big smile, Theodore laughing at your drunk state.

Theodore waves behind you to say goodbye to Mattheo and Pansy, who walked you outside the building. Everyone else planned to stay longer at the bar.

The fresh cold breeze greeted you as you stepped outside, causing you to shiver lightly for not dressing for the weather.

Theodore quickly draped his hoodie over your head, the fabric offering warmth against the chilly evening air.

The cold breeze nipped at your skin, causing goosebumps to form as you wrapped Theodore’s hoodie tighter around yourself.

Theodore quickly found your hand and intertwined it, a smile reaching both of your faces. The two of you walked back to the villa in comfortable silence.

It was a short walk back and when you arrived, you excitedly pulled Theodore to your spot.

You had told Theodore about the garden kept away in the gates in the back of your villa, hanging out many times during your stay. You decided to keep the garden a secret, wanting it to be your little hideout.

“Did you have a fun time?” Theodore asks first, walking towards the white bench placed in the garden.

You shake your head, staring at your connected hands,“No, Blaise and Astoria were being so cute it made me sad.”

Theodore frowned, pulling you to sit down next to him. Your connected hands were placed on his lap.

“It’s okay, you can tell me anything” Theodore reassured, unsure if you would open up to him while being drunk. He knew the walk back would sober you up a bit, but not completely.

“It’s just,” You stopped to think about your next words while Theodore waited for you to continue.

“Never mind, I’m fine.”

“But that’s not true.”

Theodore’s gaze bore into your own, not making any effort to move. The moonlight cast a soft glow over Theodore's features, illuminating his face as he looked at you with a mixture of concern and affection.

"Let’s just go inside,” You suggest, standing up from the bench and pulling his hand.

“Did you cry?” Theodore asks, being able to see your face more clearly after you’ve stood up.

Theodore rose and cupped a hand on your face, tracing over your cheeks. “Why did you cry?”

You place a hand over his hand, moving it away from his face. “This,” You break free from his hold completely and take a step to create space away from him, “Theo, this is why I cried. You’re the reason that I cried.”

Theodore stares at you without saying anything, making you more frustrated.

“Theo, I love you, isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” You yell your confession, finally voicing the feelings you’ve kept from him. Your heart raced as you finally voiced the feelings you had kept hidden for so long, the weight of your confession hanging in the air.

Theodore had a devious grin on his face, his laughter echoing in the quiet garden as he pulled you into a reassuring hug. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard in my life.”

You stand there shocked at his actions, “No,” You mumble into his shoulder. “No, this can’t be happening.”

You pull away from his hug, “Theo, you’re going abroad after graduation, I won’t even see you. Salazar, how is this even going to happen? No, how are we going to happen? Wait, do you even like me?”

As Theodore pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, you felt a surge of warmth flood through you, dispelling the lingering doubts and fears. “You really can’t see that I’ve loved you since first year?”

Your mouth is open from shock, and Theodore laughs once again, this time wiping the tears away.

“This can work. I’ll be gone for a few months but I’ll come back, here, to be with you.”

You look at Theodore, a smile now forming, “So we can do this? Give this relationship a try?”

“Yes, now let’s walk inside, you’re going to catch a cold.”

You give Theodore a quick peck on his cheek, before taking his hand again.

“You know,” Theodore pulls your intertwined hands to kiss your hand, leading you to exit the garden.

You blush at his action, “What?” You ask curiously.

“It’s a cruel summer with you.”

And you can guess that Mattheo won that bet.

[moodymisty]

𝕲𝖔𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖘; 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Part 1 of ?

Author's note: Part 1! Realistically it'll probably be 3 parts, but it might be 4 depending on how my writing goes. This is all just boring plot, sorry i have to excuse my smut with gratuitous plot buildup.

Summary: During the Razing of Monarchia, The Emperor decides to take something of Lorgar's that will persuade him back to compliance; Though he doesn't leave the goddess of Colchis unmarked.

Relationships: Lorgar/Fem!Reader, nonconsensual/onesided Emperor/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Noncon/dubcon, Mind fuckery, Kidnapping, Abuse,

Monarchia burns.

Smoke billows into massive clouds that cover the skyline like a catastrophic storm, the sun being obscured. The battlefield is darkened over like it's about to rain, but the fighting is all but over.

Guilliman speaks to one of his captains, coordinating the conclusion and retrieval of all of his men when his eyes pull away from the Ultramarine.

The Emperor approaches. His golden armor shines opulently even in the darkness of the smoke choked sky.

He is flanked by two custodes, of which sport the ornate golden armor denoting the meticulousness of their creation.

The Emperor had only recently arrived, the battle having long since been concluded and Malcador having already spoken to Lorgar in length. Upon a degradation of those talks did the Emperor make an appearance, and Guilliman wonders if those talks bore any fruit. He didn't see the point in them, now that Monarchia was in flames.

Though hasn't seen Lorgar since, and Guilliman can only assume he more than likely never will. The blow that Guilliman has dealt to him with never be repaired. What little relationship they had is ash.

But what- who - The Emperor approaches with besides his custodes, is far more confusing.

One of those custodians holds by the arm a woman, you, barely able to keep on your feet. You seem tired, barely able to stand. It's like he's dragging you along. You only manage to right yourself once the Emperor and his retinue stop walking, and you let out a cough; Ragged and tired. He sees ash staining your skin on your hands and cheeks.

You look up towards him briefly for a moment, eyes red, and he looks back while glancing over your form.

The ornate clothing, the delicate jewelry...

Guilliman had heard through the others that Lorgar had taken a lover. But he had heard little more of it than that; He didn't need to. Guilliman kept his interactions with Lorgar brief, and strictly business. He had no desire to listen to Lorgar's ramblings- unlike Sanguinius, who found it all amusing.

You know he calls her his little goddess, right? The two seem like they're made for each other. Perhaps we should meet her one day, she seems interesting.

Your clothes are singed at the edges, the ornate trimming and delicate fabric seared and destroyed from walking through the hot ash and embers of your home.

Perhaps Guilliman shouldn't care. He knows the Emperor doesn't. But he feels something in him at that moment, though he simply buries it down.

They are doing as the Emperor orders, and they know this needed to be done. Lorgar needed to be taught a lesson, and his legion was simply the tool to do so.

"I see you are already beginning to depart."

The Emperor takes only a brief glances to the area filled with landed Ultramarine ships, before looking back.

"Yes. We will be gone within next few hours." Guilliman looks down at you again for a moment, and notices how you seem almost, absent.

"What do you plan to do with her?"

Guilliman says, trying to word it in a way that shows mere curiosity rather than suspicious prying. The implication that he already knows who you are obvious.

The Emperor looks towards the custode holding your arm, and a few moments later that custode begins to take you away. You get towed towards the ship that The Emperor had arrived in, and disappear into it as they continue speaking.

Guilliman's eyes follow for awhile, his men's as well, but they all leave return to the Emperor when he speaks again.

"When a child misbehaves, you take away their toys until they learn."

Emperor looks directly at Guilliman.

"When Lorgar rights himself and his legion, I will return her to him."

He wonders what words had been exchanged; Lorgar would never give you up willingly from the what he has heard, you more than likely had to be torn from his arms. It would explain the torn clothes, the tears in your eyes.

Guilliman isn't much of a fan of the idea. But Lorgar needs to be taught a lesson, to stop this nonsense of religion and worship, and Guilliman won't resist the Emperor's plans.

He takes one more glance at the massive golden custodes ship that is warming up it's engines, preparing to leave the wreckage of Colchis behind. Guilliman clears his throat.

"Very well."

The Emperor gives nary a farewell, and turns on his right boot to walk towards where his custodes had trod previously. Guilliman and his Ultramarines stay however, his men chattering in the distance to continue their extraction. They have men and machinery to count for.

"You seem unsure of something, my Lord."

Thiel approaches his commander with his bolter slung comfortably in his arms. Guilliman looks to him briefly.

Was he unsure? He has doubted the Emperor before, but those brief thoughts were kept firmly to himself. The Emperor has knowledge even he does not he's sure, questioning him isn't his place to tread.

"Not unsure, Sargent. Just thinking." Thiel hums and adjusts his grip on his weaponry.

"Is it about that woman? Who was she?" The marine probably wonders what baseline human is worth enough to be toted by custodes, Guilliman imagines. He won't disagree that it was an odd scene.

"That was Lorgar's wife."

Thiel doesn't hide the furrowed brow of confusion on his face. Not many had even considered the possibility of any of the primarchs marrying, even far less knew one actually had.

Lorgar had defied odds it seems, though it only seemed to cripple him in the end.

"The Emperor has taken her to Terra until Lorgar corrects his legion's path, it seems." Thiel looks towards the custodes fleet as it rises up into the sky and departs, leaving the Ultramarines alone on this hot, sandy planet.

"And do you think that's a good idea?" Guilliman ponders the man's question for a bit longer than he thought he would.

Would it actually motivate Lorgar to abandon all of this nonsense? To return to the Crusade rather than fooling around with the worship of gods and deities? Guilliman doesn't quite know. He doesn't know Lorgar well enough to have the answer.

"I guess we will see."

Guilliman swears he hears screaming in the distance, but chocks it up to the whipping of the wind against crumbling stone and turns to leave.