#chapters: desired disobedience

[luciferlightbringer]

Talk to Me

Chapter 1

Lucifer x Fem Fallen Angel Reader

Word Count:4.1 k

CW: Angst, abuse, lies, slowburn,

Chapter 1|Chapter 2 (Updated through Chapter 5)

Welcome back friends! I will be tagging all chapters now under #punching-pentagrams if the tags ever have issues or if you are looking for updates from me 😊

Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates, known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil. Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a troublemaker with “fantastical ideas” for all of creation, and was seen as such by the elders of Heaven. For they knew his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. So, he was to watch as the other angels began to expand the universe in their ways.

From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Adam worked to take charge over his responsibility to care for Earth, and Lilith refused to work alongside him. She fled the Garden. Drawn in by her rebellious nature, Lucifer found her and troublemaker seduced her to his cause. Together, they wished to the ruin the future of humanity with their selfish dreams and ideas, offering the Fruit of Knowledge to Adam's new bride, Eve, who accepted, unaware that this “gift” came with a curse. For with this single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into the Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven worked to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his mistress into the dark pit he had created, to live out his days as the King of the cruel and the wicked.

This was the Parable of Lucifer, known by every Angel in Heaven, memorized, but rarely spoken. His name, or even the threat of falling was akin to swearing, which wasn't forbidden but it was frowned upon. For many eons, his name was rarely mentioned. That is, until the morning his daughter came to visit Heaven.

You watched that morning as Emily, the young seraphim you served under, danced around her room as she got ready that morning, singing and flitting about while talking about how excited she was to be at the the side of Sera, the High Seraphim, later at a meeting with the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith.

You listened and nodded at her excitement, trying hard to keep your own thoughts to yourself. You didn't understand how she could be so excited, being in the room with anyone related to Lucifer sounded like a fate worse than death. You were not important enough to be in the room where it all was going to go down, and you were perfectly ok with that.

"And then! Oh! What about the zoo?! Do you think they have zoos in hell? Maybe we have different animals.... Oh I'll just ask them!" Emily squealed with excitement as she brushed her hair.

You were trying so hard not to roll your eyes, why would some hellspawn want anything to do with a heaven zoo? And why did Emily insist on showing them around? It almost seemed cruel to show them around something more wonderful and beautiful than they probably had back home in their dark pit of evil. But it couldn't be helped, that is just who Emily was. Kind and full of desire to make people happy.

You were a "right hand man" of sorts to Emily, a sort of "lady in waiting" or "aid", and had been ever since the beginning of her time as the Seraphim of Joy. You enjoyed a higher status, that was marked by your four wings, but not as many as Emily's six, which marker he status as a seraphim. You liked being by her side, she was sweet and playful. It was her job to keep the people of Heaven happy, and it was your job to assist her in that. She was gentle and kind, and that made your job easy. She treated you as an equal, even if she didn't need to, you were happy to serve her.

"Sounds great, my lady, I hope you guys have fun," you say trying to hold back any sass you wanted to add to your comment in response to the idea of her field trip with the Princess of Hell.

Emily looked at you with a smile, "Oh! You're coming with us, of course. Aren't you?"

You held a strained smile, of course she would want to include you.

"Oh... I wish I could. But I can't I have plans," you responded coolly.

"Plans? Like what?" Emily pouted.

"Well... there uhhh... there is the updates to the Golden Girls theme park! Now that Betty is here, I figured it was important to meet with her and make sure it is correct...ya know... get her ideas..." you start.

Emily floats over and grabs your hands, "Oh but that can wait, can't it? Pleeeeease? This is so exciting and I want my best friend their with me!" She gave you big puppy dog eyes.

You can't help but feel a little shy when she calls you her best friend, you were honored that she thought of you as a friend, but you knew that was not your place, even though you had been by her side for several thousand years. It wasn't forbidden for you two to be friends, just... discouraged. Due to the difference in status. You sighed, she knew you couldn't say no to her when she got all pouty and pulled the "best friend" card.

"Alright, alright! I'll go... Just... Please don't expect me to be all buddy-buddy with them? I mean no disrespect, my lady... The idea of having beings of Hell in Heaven just... makes me nervous..." you nervously confess to Emily.

Emily smiles and pulls you in for a hug, "Yay! Oh (y/n), it's going to be ok! How about this? If you get uncomfortable, you can flap your wings quickly twice and I'll give you a reason to leave, ok?"

"But won't that leave you alone with them? What if they should try to harm you?" you say with worry in your voice.

Emily squeezes your shoulders, "It will be fine. Come on! We are gonna be late!" Emily grabs your hand and she half drags you out the door and out the the main plaza to meet up with Sera before going to welcome the guests from hell. You bow respectfully to Sera in greeting and wait as Emily and Sera fly out to the front gate while you wait inside with Sera's aid, Lily, who also had four wings like you. You rarely talked to Lily, but she was also nice, more serious like her seraphim she served.

"How is your lady feeling about the meeting?" Lily asked calmly, looking forward instead of at you.

"Very excitedly, as is her nature. Almost a little too excited, but that is not my place to tell her, of course. And what of your lady?" You asked Lily.

She shook her head, "Nervous, but collected. She was very distressed by Lucifer's request for his daughter to meet with the council of Elders. Her ideas sound... preposterous, and dangerous. Just like her father's," she responded flatly, her nose crinkling slightly.

"What ideas?" you ask.

Lily looked around for any nearby souls before leaning close and whisper, "Something about trying to redeem souls to get them to give them a second change in heaven."

You blinked, what? She is trying to redeem the souls of sinners? "Is that even possible?"

Lily shrugged, "It is not our place to ask such things, besides, we have no idea why they would want to try that. It sounds fishy to me, and I think it sounds fishy to Sera, too. We have a system in place for a reason."

"Of course, that does seem silly to try to change things," you go back to your neutral stance and start to think. The daughter of Lucifer wants to redeem souls? Why? That seems like a good thing to try to do? But how could they prove they were actually "redeemed" to even attempt something like that. As far as you knew, this had never been done before. This thought left you with so many questions, that from that point on would start to unravel your very understanding of everything you thought you knew.

Eventually you see the gates open and Sera and Emily enter with two others, a girl with long white hair, wearing an eye patch, named Vaggie, and a young woman with long blonde hair in a ponytail and a red suit, who was introduced to you as Charlie Morningstar, the daughter of Lucifer. You wanted to focus on the Morningstar child but... something about the other one seemed off about the other one, especially in the way she looked at all of you. Specifically she looked... uncomfortable? That seemed like such an odd way to react to Heaven. But maybe a place this beautiful was just hard for a demon like her to feel comfortable in. A pity.

You shifted your attention back to Charlie, you were only briefly introduced as Emily's aid, she greeted you warmly and then went back to talking with Emily and Sera. You liked it this way, it gave you a chance to just watch this daughter of Lucifer at a distance. As you toured Heaven with them, you were surprise by how sweet and bubbly she came off. She talked, mostly with Emily, about how excited she was about the meeting and looked in awe at everything she came across in Heaven. Your face remained a pleasant neutral, but you were processing everything through the lens of what you had been told about Lucifer and the information given to you by Lily about her reason for being here. What was her deal?

Eventually, Charlie and Vaggie were set up in their room, and Vaggie decided to stay at the hotel while Charlie went off with you and Emily to the zoo, and Sera and Lily went off to prepare for the meeting. Great... now there was more of a chance that you would have to interact with the Morningstar child, but you were good at remaining pleasant and neutral. You stayed to Emily's right while Charlie walked on Emily's left as they went through the zoo. Luckily, the Princess of Hell was more interested in fawning over the animals than paying attention to how little you were interacting with her. You exchanged some pleasantries and small talk when addressed, but not much beyond that.

The longer you were around her, the more curious she made you. She didn't act at all like how you expected a hellspawn would act. You know you shouldn't be making assumptions but... something was not adding up. How could this be the spawn of the most hated and dangerous being in all of creation? Either she was a very very very good actor, spinning colorful and exciting tales to disarm her victims and seduce them to her side... or somehow... despite having such an awful and cruel creature of a father... this young woman had an actual passion and love for others. You were worried at how much you felt like you wanted to agree with the latter, especially with how in-sync her personality fell with Emily's. You tried to shake the questions out of your head, again it was not your place to ask such questions.

Before long, it was time for their meeting with the angelic Council of Elders, which meant it was your time to separate from Emily and the Princess. You bid them a farewell and went off to take care of that meeting with Betty White to make any additions or suggestions to the theme park. You had a pleasant meeting with her, luckily there were only a few additions that needed to be made, so you were able make note of them with the construction team and get back to Emily's suite to prepare her some tea for her when her meeting was over.

Before long you heard the quick open and shut of the door, signaling that Emily had returned home, "Welcome back, my lady Emily! How was..." you stopped as you heard the sounds of... something you had never heard before... little sounds in quick secession that would get quieter, she'd breathe in, and then the quick secession of sounds would happen again, but starting louder and growing softer.

You peaked out around the corner to see Emily curled up on the floor right next to the door, face in her hands, making her little sounds. You had heard about this, was... was she... crying? She had never seen anyone cry before. You rushed over to her side.

"My lady? Emily? What's wrong? Why do you cry?" you asked with a slight panic, you had not idea how to help her with this, you had never seen someone sad before.

She let out different higher pitched sound and shook before she looked up at you, tears rolling down her round cheeks.

"Oh (y/n), it's terrible! I'm so angry!" Emily cried.

"What's terrible? What did the Princess do? Are you hurt?" you start to look her over.

"No!" Emily cried, "It's Sera, and Adam, and Lute... They have done something terrible!"

You blinked, you had never heard her speak of her superior sister like that, and you new the First Man to be... a colorful character, but what could he have done? "What happened?"

Emily took a few breathes before looking up at you, "They have been allowing a yearly extermination on human souls in Hell to control the overpopulation down there... Adam has an army of angels that go down with him to kill and erase human souls!"

You sat back a little, taking in the news, "Wait... why... That does not make any sense... why would they do something like that?"

Emily let more tears fall, "It's how they control the overpopulation of souls, trying to keep them from thinking about uprising against Heaven... that's why Charlie was here. She's trying to redeem souls into heaven so that we would stop killing them. She-she's just trying to protect her people, and we have just been slaughtering them! For... centuries!"

You sat in silence as Emily continued to freak out and cry, this was the worst thing you had ever heard of. How could heaven allow something like this?! Sure, the sinners had all earned their place in Hell, and they needed to stay in their place... but the does not mean anyone should be erasing them!

"Who could have allowed this?" you ask quietly.

"Sera..." Emily snarled, you look up at her, and she looks at you... with anger in her eyes, it made you jump, "Sera allowed this it happen, and what's worse... she kept it from everyone! From the rest of the Elders... from me... Only Sera, Adam, and his army of angel exorcists know... The rest of us were in the dark..."

You just sat there on the floor next to her, trying to breathe, trying to work through the thoughts and feelings in your body, this was bad... this was... really bad. You never knew this try of bad could exist, not here, not in Heaven, and you felt it all over your body. Your chest felt tight, your thoughts were racing, everything was a blur.

You looked at the young angel next to you, "What do we do now, my lady?"

Emily's expression went serious and she sat up straight looking at you, "This can't be a secret anymore, we must tell everyone."

Your eyes widened, "E-everyone? Even the human souls? My lady... I don't know if..."

Emily got up, "Yes! Everyone! They have been keeping this secret from everyone! They are breaking one of God's base commandments! Now that we know we must tell the truth! Everyone must know!"

You get up to meet her, "But... that would cause an upheaval! What if..." you change to a whisper "What if this causes you to fall? Like Lucifer?"

Emily shook her head, "If something like this is what caused his fall... then maybe there is more behind his fall than they told us in the first place..." She looked at you, "After hearing Charlie... it's worth the risk... I need to do this. Are you with me, or not?" Emily grabbed your hands.

You froze in place. Do you defy Emily, your seraphim that you are sworn to serve and support? Or do you go against something that you know will make the elders unhappy, and risk both you and her falling? You knew this look on her face, there was not talking her out of it at this point.

You sigh, "Ok... I'm with you." She smiled and hugged you, and you hugged her back. You had not idea what was going to happen next, but you couldn't bear the thought of not supporting her. It's all you knew.

You spent the rest of the night planning with Emily on how you were going to get the word out to the people. Unfortunately for the both of you... Sera had been worried about Emily's outburst in support of Charlie and went to go check on her. Emily was not watching her volume, no matter how much you reminded her, so before knocking, she was able to hear Emily talking out some ideas out with you. With a heavy and broken heart, Sera went to go alert the rest of the Elders.

The next morning, you and Emily did not have a chance to start telling anyone before Emily was brought to stand trial before the Council of Elders. You were brought with to stand witness for the conversation you had with her. Emily fought and cried, angry tears running down her face as she pleaded for the safety and protection of the people of Hell, quoting how the Elders were breaking commandments. The Elders responded of how they were doing what they needed to do to maintain the order in Heaven, and Emily teared back about how they were only proving Charlie's point about "angel's getting to do whatever and remain in the sky" while the people of hell suffered by Heaven's hand. Sera warned Emily not to press but she didn't care, saying if this was the truth that she no longer wanted to be the Seraphim of Joy.

"If you don't stop this now, you may soon not be a seraphim at all!" one of the Elders warned.

Adam sat over on the side, grinning. He was quieter than yesterday, he was trying to play nice after his major slip up the day before when he revealed the existence of the exterminations, but he was still enjoying watching the drama. Sera looked over to you, eyes pleading with do something to stop this. You looked over at Emily. There was only one way you could see getting her out of this, it wasn't going to be pleasant, but it was all you could do.

You stood up and looked over to the council, starting to cry and shake, "I'm sorry! I'm so... so sorry, my great Elders!" You whole room was looking at your now, even Emily.

"Please... please do not blame her! It was my fault! I... I was so excited to see the Princess of Hell, know why she was here. I know I wasn't allowed at the meeting... but I still stood outside of the door and listened! I couldn't bear the news! I've gone mad! Emily came back and didn't want to talk about it... but I did! I made her! I filled her head with ideas of telling the people of Heaven the truth! The angels deserve to know! It's barbaric! All of you refused to listen to Charlie and I can't stand that!" you say grabbing your hair. "Please! Emily is innocent of everything besides being to close to me! Please spare her! Punish me instead!"

"(y/n) what are you doing?!" Emily cried.

"I'm telling them the truth, my lady! Don't try to cover this up for me. You've suffered enough!" you cried, flying down to the floor and standing in front of Emily, fanning out your wings to block her, "Punish me instead! I should fall for my madness! My lady Emily has done nothing wrong! Punish me for my sympathy for Lucifer and his daughter!"

Sera frowned, looked at the others, and shook her head, "What a shame, but not unexpected from you, unfortunately." That comment almost made you flinch, what did that mean? Sera looked to the others, who all nodded at her and looked at you with distain.

"Very well," she said, lifting a hand to prompt two other angels to remove Emily from the floor, leaving only you in the middle, all eyes on you. "(y/n), for your attempt of treason against Heaven and attempted corruption of a seraphim, you have fallen from Grace and will be cast into Hell."

You give Emily one last look as she screams, whispering a goodbye to her. A portal opens up in front of you, giving you a clear but distant view of the rings of hell. Intense fear flooded your body for the first time. You take a step back, only to be stopped by Adam who had flown over an landed behind you, a wicked grin on his face.

Behind you he whispered "See you on extermination day", before breaking off one of your wings and kicking you into the pit, the sound of your screams of pain mixed with his laughter as you began to fall.

What an absolute piece of shit.

Most of your fall was spent in searing pain from your one missing wing, the other three fluttering in the wind as hell grew closer, golden blood oozing from your new wound, your first wound ever. You cried the whole way... out of pain, out of fear, out of hope that you saved Emily from this fate, out of confusion...

As you got closer, you felt more pain sear through your body, but for a different reason. You watched as you hands stared to turn into black claws, horns sprouted from your temples, a tail lashed out behind you, eyes watering as they changed to red, some of the feathers of your wings burned red. More tears burned down your cheeks as you fell, mixing in with some feelings of... anger? You wish that Emily had not dragged you into this... but it was your job to serve her... and you did it until your falling day... Who knew what awaited you in hell. The second fallen angel in all of history...

You realized then, yes, would would be the second fallen angel, would Lucifer seek you out if he found out another angel had fallen? You wanted to avoid that at all costs. As the ground grew nearer, you knew you had two choices, use your wings to ease your fall and risk being seen, or tuck them away and have a much harder hit but hide your identity as an angel. You swallowed hard as you forced your wings to tuck away. It was something angels could do, but it was not common, as it was more comfortable to keep them out.

You were almost to the red floor of the Pride Ring. God Above, this was going to hurt... You braced yourself as you plummeted into the hard rock of the upper part of the ring, making a small intend in the ground from the length and power of your fall. Your body seared with more intense pain, bones were definitely broken, but by some grace you were still barely conscious.

After catching some amount of breath, you looked around. With as much information as you could process at the moment, it looked like you had landed on some old battle ground near the edge of the ring. At least some luck was still on your side. With one good arm and leg, you clawed and crawled your way across the red brimstone ground, leaving a trail of golden blood, before finding a pile of stones that were set in just a way that you could hide. Probably something someone had built for cover at some point.

With the last of your energy, you crawled into the hole, took off your robe, and stuffed it under your head as your felt yourself suck into unconsciousness.

_____________________________________________________________

Hello! Just wanted to let everyone know that this one will have less of a back and forth between Lucifer and y/n's point of view, it will still have that, but it will be a lot more focused on y/n until they meet. Also it might take a little before they meet, but we will get there! Let me know if you want added to the taglist!

Taglist:

@sapphireravensworld @cimadreamer @froggybich @randomstranger703 @tiredlillypad @melday0105 @btsgangleader @hawke1917 @gbshdhd @pandaquick @littleladydemon @wonderlandangelsposts @hulyenl @willow404

[shamrockqueen]

Father Figure : Chapter 3

Pairing : Best Friends Dad Bucky x Reader

Warnings : R18, angst, eventual smut, age difference, taboo attraction, 18 and green

Word count : 3833

AO3 Link

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Your night was nearly sleepless, plagued with every second of that phone call. His voice still lingered in your ear, making your skin burn a shameful shade of pink.

You didn’t quite understand this new version of him your mind seemed to be making. Of course Mr. Barnes had always been handsome, and at some moments incredibly attractive. From the few times he had seen him shirtless, he seemed well chiseled. Yet, by far, you loved his smile the most. It was something so genuine and gentle as it crinkled up towards his eyes.

But, he was Becky's father! He wasn't someone that could be an object of desire.

That simply wasn’t allowed. You weren’t allowed to see him as anything other than how he was.

Eventually exhaustion finally won out, rewarding you a few hours of much-needed sleep. Shortly after, you'd finally meet the morning, rubbing your sore eyes as the light of the rising sun was clouded over by a familiar yet stern face. Your mother was looking down at the both of you, disappointment etched into every feature in her face.

Her scrub top was wrinkled, and her hair messy from her own rushed morning. She’d looked over at the snoring mass that was Becky before the girl snorted herself awake.

“Get up, both of you!” Her voice shocked the room, jolting you both fully awake. Your friend from her deep slumber and you from your paralyzed state.

Becky was out of bed before you, as you clambered out of the covers. Your mom turned away from the two of you, calling back over her shoulder as she traversed the thin hallway. “Don’t be late for school."

Of course she’d rather reprimand you later, an awful quirk she had, as she'd rather have plants of time to chew you out over your disobedience. She had told you time and time before 'not to let Becky into this house.'

Her excuse being that Becky was a terrible influence. A sharp and noteless tune you were sick of hearing.

Rebecca was your friend, and even with her prickly personality, she had been there for you in your lowest moments just as you had for her.

The last you'd hear from your mother that morning was curt and was shouted out from the front door. “I’ll be telling her father where she was last night." What followed after was growled under her breath in distaste before she finally shut the door.

"Not that he’ll do anything about.”

You hadn’t heard that last part, but you didn’t care either way, believing this to be just part of her prejudice against your friend and her broken family. Not that yours was ever whole to begin with.

The two of you readied yourselves for an effortless Friday before leaving an hour earlier than necessary. Rebecca didn’t want to go to school just yet, goading you into following her to the old McDonald’s up the road with the promise of buying you a cheap breakfast. You agreed, and soon after the great piece of Americana came into view on the hill. Still with its ugly faded red metal roof and its big, barely lit yellow ‘M’ Truly a McDonald’s that time forgot.

She made good on that promise, handing you the bag as you followed her back of the shabby establishment.

The two of you ate your crumbling biscuit sandwiches in silence at one of the rusty tables sitting outside the little restaurant. Rebecca was more interested in filling her empty belly, whereas your sandwich sat in its unfolded wrapper with only a small bite missing.

Your stomach grumbled in protest, as if it would have rather gone empty in retaliation to the buzzing memories of last night's call to Mr. Barnes. His voice, smooth like velvet on the skin with a heavy timber, still seemed to rumble in your mind.

You had hoped that even with meager sleep it would have been forgotten, but you were horribly wrong.

“You’re really quiet.” Her voice nearly made you jump back, winning you a strange look from your friend.

“Damn, what’s got you so on edge?”

How could you answer that question? Certainly not with the truth that thoughts about her own father were consuming you.

“Uh…my mom..you know..she...” You struggled to find a scapegoat for your predicament, not wanting to spill any real secrets.

Your mom was mad this morning; that had to be reason enough to be upset yourself. You don’t even have to complete broken sentences to garner a response.

She gave you a groan before actually saying, “Yeah, I know she doesn’t like me.”

“She’s always on about things that she just doesn’t really understand.” You gave her a weak smile, hoping to reassure her just a little.

“Mine’s no better.” She said before taking a big bite of her sandwich.

“You still wanna visit her? You always complain about her when you’re up there.”

She chewed away her frustration before answering back with, “I just want her to notice me. It’s always easier for her to ignore me when I’m not there.” She looked down at the last meager bite of her sandwich as she mumbled a single lament under her breath. Yet, you still heard her words, spoken sad and low to her own chest.

“At least my dad calls.”

“How is he doing..? Your question cut itself short; the words had fallen out before you could catch them, but Rebecca didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. She didn’t notice the brief widening of your eyes as your heart hiccuped at your own mere mention of him.

“He’s…detached. Like for the last couple days something’s been bothering him.”

“I’m sure he's just overwhelmed.” You spoke softly before coughing out a continuation. “Uh…You did come home pretty sick the other night.”

“That’s just it; he hasn’t yelled at me or grounded me at all for that. Like..like he's given up or something.”

You tried to dance to safety around the topic only to step into an unseen mire as Becky’s tears began to spill.

You watch as Becky averts her gaze, making your stomach clench with the possible knowledge she might have had.

“I’m just…y’know. I’m sorry! I was a mess, and you and my dad had to take care of me.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. Becky often showed you a more subdued level of vulnerability, but on rare occasions she would shower her truer colors with a deep and sorrowful blue.

“I was so drunk that I don’t even know what I did to make you run away like that and…”

“Hey, hey.” You scramble for the wad of napkins that had been stuffed in your bag of food so that Becky could dry her eyes. It smudged her already messy makeup, but she seemed to calm down a little more.

“I think I fuckin broke him, and I don’t wanna break you too!”

“It’s fine, you didn’t do anything; I just..” you had to stop yourself before any truth could spill. You didn’t want to lie, feeling sick enough of the smaller ones you’d already given her.

“That night was a lot.” That wasn’t a lie, and the breathless feeling James had given you after pulling you over his knees came back all at once. “Everything just happened so fast…I”

“I’m sorry.” She cut you off again, much to your relief.

You huffed a sad laugh, sniffling as your eyes threatened to tear up. She smiled back at you, knowing you forgave her. You’d always forgive her.

“Can..uh..can you come to my house tonight? You know, if you want?”

“Oh I..”

“If your mom won’t let you, then it’s..whatever. But, the house is too quiet, and I don’t want to feel alone.”

Your mom wasn't as much of an obstacle as she’d hoped to be, not with her nightshift standing in her way. Most days she could rule the house, but until she could come home in the early morning, the nights were yours. Not that you ever did much with them other than hanging out with Becky.

You didn’t know how you could face Mr. Barnes, but you couldn’t ignore Becky’s cry for help. Certainly to your detriment.

“I can come over. It’s fine.” Your pulse has quickened, and you wish you had just said no. But, in all honesty, you didn’t want to be alone either.

With that, Becky’s mood had lightened, and she crumpled up her food trash before tossing it into a nearby trash can.

You fained a similar sense of joy; the knot that built in your stomach would remain all throughout the school day. You dreaded the moment you’d have to face him, but you already made your bed when you agreed, and now you’d have to lie in it.

At the time, there was a lot you didn’t know about James. Some of the things you’d learn were sad to say the least, but it made him seem all the more stoic.

James was young when he had first gotten married. They were already expecting Rebecca and truly believed they could conquer all odds facing their already short union.

James loved his daughter, her life never being created intentionally, but no matter what faced him, he’d never regret having her. Yet, early in his marriage, things started to change. Like a thin layer of veneer peeling away to bring into view the chipped and broken surface that had hid beneath. The more of this ugly side James had to see from his once blushing bride, the more and more it felt as if he sold his soul to a demon in disguise.

The fighting was spontaneous and yet routine. Not one single move that James had made was good enough for that woman, and it left a widening crack between them until everything finally broke apart. The split was desired by both parties, but nothing could be agreed upon. When James wanted to keep something, she was there to speak on why she needed it more.

The custody of their daughter, of course, made every other argument pale in comparison. The battle was vicious from both sides; James wanted to split custody so Rebecca wouldn’t lose both of them, but that woman wanted blood from a man that had never once lifted his hand to her.

Every second her daughter would see would be in her presence alone; that way no one could “poison her perception of me.”

The tears were spilling, and the woman James once happily called his 'wife' many years prior cried out to the court, "I was miserable," “I want a better life for my daughter," and James, of course, “wasn’t a proper provider,” at least not of the life she felt she deserved.

James never felt more disgusted with her than this moment; it was like watching a demon puppet the body of the woman he once loved like a corpse on a string. James was very lucky, because tears weren’t enough to sway the judge, and split custody was awarded.

This wouldn’t be the end of their infighting, taking its role on both James and most certainly Becky. A union was broken over top of a little girl's head, and the constant pull from either side tore into her belly with a deep and incurable pain.

Becky fought with her mother; she fought with her father, but she never had to fight with you.

Her voice was the only control she had in her own life, and the heavy sense of abandonment she felt when her mother sent her away left her empty. But, you listened to her; even as she raised her voice and screamed at the sky, you stayed by her and made her feel heard.

You were gentle with both Becky and her father, making the house feel calmer with just your presence, and as Becky clung to it, James seemed to gravitate unconsciously closer until ultimately colliding into you.

When his daughter came home drunk, he was beside himself to see how his own flesh and blood could be so conflicted. Yet, you were so perfect. He envied your pristine nature and took his frustration out on it.When he realized what he’d done, it was too late, and he was sure you told your mom, and he’d have cops knocking at his door the next morning. But you didn’t, and things went by as they normally did.

It gave him both a sense of ease and deep-cutting dread at when the shoe would finally drop if not now. You’d listened to him the few times he could open himself to you, just as you would with his daughter. It had made you such a great comfort as well as making this situation all the worse.

His image of you changed that night from the sweet girl that sat at his daughter's side into something sinister. He’d never handled you like that before, and your body felt fuller against him after he’d thrown you over his legs. You weren’t even scared as you looked up at him, only choosing to run away after being thrown off his lap.

He’d been inappropriate, letting a terrible part of himself break through, and he could never describe the disgust he had for himself after that moment. He sent you running away, and yet that broken part of himself had hoped you would come right back.

That phone call left his heart so heavy. He hated how elated he was to hear your voice before the news of his daughter's safety. It was a childish feeling, and it left his stomach aching as he recalled the events that led him to this point.

Your flushed skin was warm and soft under his calloused fingers. Then there were your watered eyes, wide and teary with confusion but not fear. You didn’t fight him off, and you weren’t scared of him.

You hadn’t slept well after that phone call, biting away a few bits of sleep without reaching any restfulness. By the end of the day, he was home, staring into the black lagoon of his coffee as his mind wandered. That was until it was interrupted by a soft knock at his door.

He had hoped it was his daughter, and he threw himself from his chair to open the door. These nightly flights weren’t new for Becky, and he couldn’t bring himself to be angry anymore as long as she went somewhere safe. That way she’d always come home the next day.

He opened the door only to find you standing with Rebecca on his porch, in the flesh instead of a dismissible, disembodied voice whistling through his phone speaker. Now you were in front of him. Now you weren’t at a safe distance.

His eyes caught yours first before immediately trying to break from your gaze. Then they landed on his daughter, and he stepped out to pull her into a hug.

“I’m glad you came home, sweetheart.”

“I-I’m sorry.” She said, just above a whisper, before the hug broke and he let the both of you inside.

He closed the door, turning his back to the both of you as he spoke. “I take it she’s spending the night?”

“If that’s ok?” You quickly called back before carefully setting your bag down by a small rack of shoes.

“It keeps her out of trouble if you're around.”

You noticed a small quirk of a smile along the side of his lips before he disappeared entirely when he turned back to face you.

Becky gave a sassy huff as she picked at her nails. But, she looked back up and gave her dad a grateful “thanks dad” before continuing her pace all the way to her room. You followed after as she threw her bag on the bed.

“We gonna watch a movie tonight?” You asked, laying back against her floral comforter.

“We can binge a bit of gossip, girl, or something.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows with a grunt before hopefully shooting that option down with a laugh. “Ugh, I hate teen soap operas. Literally anything else.”

“Shut up.” She chuckled back, “It’s not that cheesy.”

“Oh yes, it is!”

She grabbed her jacket to fling it over top of your head, like quitting a canary in its cage. “Quiet you.”

You threw it back off in disgust after a whiff of BO hit your nostrils. “Holy hell, that reeks.”

“Nuh uh”

“Fuckn, yeah, huh.”

“Well, I didn’t take a shower last night. So..” She said while sneaking a sniff towards her underarms before pinching her nose as the smell. “You wait here while I clean up, alright?”

“You better. I can still smell you from here.” You gave a fake gag and cough before pretending to faint onto her bed.

“Knock it off.” She laughed back, throwing more stuffed creatures in your direction before grabbing her change of clothes and trotting off towards her bathroom.

For a moment everything was how it always had been, and as you left her room to find a cheese movie on TV, it was like nothing actually changed.

That was until you saw him again. It wasn’t the face of Mr. Barnes, you knew; the soft quick of a smile was replaced by a deep and troubled frown. His eyes were no longer amused, only on edge.

When he saw you come in, he stiffened in his seat and gave a quick cough. You were a little surprised he decided to speak to you, but the sentiment was lighthearted.

“Thanks for taking care of her.”

“Absolutely..sir.” You shot back nervously. You always tried to take care of Becky, a responsibility that should have never fallen to your shoulders.

“How have you guys been?” You twirled your fingers together as you fidgeted from under his gaze.

“Becka certainly missed you.” He bemused. “Kinda think we both did.”

It was a slip of the tongue on his part, or maybe he’d hope you didn’t hear him talk under his breath. The low gravel of his voice gave him away, and you answered him back with a similar sentiment.

“I missed you too.” The words lingered before you cut their meaning with an added “both of you, of course.”

You watched as his adam's apple bobbed with a hard swallow.

“Are you ok? Y’know after you got upset..”

“I wasn’t upset with you, I promise. I’m glad Becky came to you last night..”

“I meant the other night..” You looked out towards the bathroom as the sound of the shower still sounded through the house. “..when Becky came home sick..”

“Don’t..please.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“You are the last person that needs to apologize for that!” He had stepped up, leaving him standing right infront of your shivering form.

“I-it’s ok, sir..”

"No, it’s not.” He looks guiltily at you before continuing, “I’m just so frustrated. I just came spilling out until I..I hit you like that.”

“Mr. Barnes, please. If you just needed an outlet, it’s fine...” you stopped yourself before you continued, shocked by what had slipped out of your mouth. That’s not how you meant for it to sound. Mr. Barnes was your friend, and you just want him to be comfortable around you again.

Bucky spoke instead as he wracked a firm hand over his face.

“Oh my god. An outlet?” You are not an outlet. No man should ever do something like that to you without your consent.” What he’d done disgusted himself. If anything, he believed to be the luckiest motherfucker alive for not being in jail right now.

But in an odd touch, starved part of his brain, he had revealed the feeling of your warm skin under his palms for that brief moment. It made him feel even worse afterward.

His eyes shot out towards the hallway for any set of prying eyes into this incriminating conversation. The shower still ran, and the dull sound of music played from the steaming bathroom door.

"Listen,” he spoke in the calmest whisper he could.

“What I did was very bad. I cannot do that kind of stuff to you of all people.”

“But..”

“sweetheart..” He only ever called you that when he talked to you like a child. An adorable nickname for the sweet little neighbor girl who played Miss Mary Mack at the bus stop with his daughter.

“I’m not dumb, Mr. Barnes. I know what happened, but I-I don’t want you to have to feel this way about it.” You reach out for his hand, but he jerks it from your fingers, as if the small touch had burned him.

It was when you flinched, a few tears burning your eyes from the mistreatment. Although it seemed along with his expression, his heart melted when he saw your mood shift.

“You have no idea what you're saying." He leaned in and grabbed both of your shoulders to halt any further words that would come out of you. His voice was a low, angry whisper.

“If you have to put your hands on me again, I won’t stop you, sir.” You spoke so fast, a whisp of words flying through the air faster than they could be heard by praying ears.

But, he did in fact hear you. He saw the pleading look in your wet eyes with a glimmer of desire you didn’t even know was shining through them. It made his heart drop, and his skin flushed a soft pink you’d never seen it do before.

You questioned yourself for a second, feeling that maybe he was right and you didn’t know what you were talking about. Were you coaxing him to touch you again? Or, were you offering to be his needed whipping girl? Both assumptions being tailed by a horrible air of taboo.

Your mind started to spin, twisting your stomach over your own words. You hadn’t even realized you were crying as hard as you were until he told you to breathe.

You mumbled another pained ‘sorry..I’m so sorry.’ As you backed away from his hands, and your feet nearly caught against the couch as you stumbled for the door.

“No..wait!” His voice cracked as you evaded his attempt to stop you.

When you heard your name being called out to you again, it was by another voice. Becky’s face was a blur as she rushed to your side, grabbing your arm to stop you from running away. It grounded you, her wet hair clinging to her face and her disheveled shirt having been rushed onto her body.

Your head stopped spinning for a second. It was a short moment of clarity that allowed you to wrestle your elbow away from her grasp before grabbing your bag and running.

You ran out the door and down the street for as long as your legs could carry you.

Chapter 4

Tags list : @brianheadsworld @mrs-bucky-barnes-73

@funkybarnes @mayusenpai666 @cadencejames87 @wintrsoldrluvr

[pursuitseternal]

“A Night with the Ascendant:” truths revealed and a delicious punishment is served

Ascended Astarion x F!OC (Lumina) |E| 5K

Summary: While the Master’s away, Lumina decides to take matters into her own urchin hands. Hooded and cloaked, she finds the book she seeks on the Lower City streets… but Lord Astarion finds her, too. She is willful and reckless and disobedient, and a fitting punishment is required.

CW: Grieving AA, Half-truths, manipulation, orgasm denial, Lumina fails her charisma and stealth rolls, “borrowing her bf’s clothing” for nefarious purposes, AA having too much fun for the first time in centuries.

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 4…

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Lumina was everything he ever dreamed someone could be—beautiful, willing, submissive. It was so easy to give her that final ingredient to remake her in his image, to dominate her so thoroughly. It shouldn’t have even felt like manipulation or deception to that matter, she drank the chalice of his blood so eagerly. He remembered the deep scarlet stain on those satisfied lips, the aftertaste of his power in the richness of his blood that lingered on her tongue.

But if she was so entirely his… why did it bother him to no end? He missed that edge of control, to compel her and weave his way into her brain like the beautiful marionette she had been. Where control and order once dictated his life, now all was replaced with… whims and desire.

With her smiles and her guile and her intelligence and her willfulness.

He hadn’t counted on such willfulness. Even if it was to insist on calling him hero. Hells. Heroes didn’t live forever with unrivaled power, needing to spend eternity numbing the pain of life. Heroes laid peacefully in their graves when all was said and done.

Graves like the five cut headstones that spread before him. They had never been this quiet, not when they were alive. The silence of the graveyard grinded at his resolve, eroding that perfect veneer of power and control crafted over two glorious centuries. He was weak right now, remembering the way his eyes would hurt as they rolled back every time Gale rambled… or the edge of sassiness in Shadowheart’s voice when she was peeved… or even Karlach’s hyena call of a laugh.

Instead there was only silence, the growth of moss on their stone tombs, and the rot of time on their remains, the same uncheck grinding of time that had swept them away and left him. Alone. Unaltered and untouched.

For the first time in ages, he stood in the wash of their memories, the ghosts of their voices and laughter and criticism and ferocity. In a moment, he would steel himself over once more, return to that visage of power and dominance and untouchability. But for now, he stood in silent remembrance, his damnable beating heart feeling the sting of emotions he had worked so hard to banish. Loss… grief… affection… desire…

A flash of bright blonde hair and crimson eyes passed through his mind. A tug at their bond that she was somewhere in the city, somewhere up to mischief and no good… if she was this petulant and unruly, why did he love her…

Love.

Hells dammit. He had remade her into something new, something even he had yet to experience in his centuries of vampirism—his Bride. But what was it she was remaking him into now?

Hungry for him, she paced between her suites and his sumptuous chambers. But there was one thing for which she hungered more—knowledge. What in the hells was she?

Every few turns around the room, Lumina paused at the window of his bedchamber, its arching frame overlooking the gardens, and the Lower City beyond. Creeping ivy trellised its way up the ancient stone walls. Every one of her urchin instincts screamed to escape—to reclaim the sun and discover all she could about her new abilities, to try to uncover more about her hero, her tyrant, and her love. She needed information, research.

She needed books. Or at least one. One to unlock what strange transformation had taken place to grant her safety from the sun like him.

How many times had she touched that green leather-covered tome, The Curse of the Vampyr? If only she could run to any book seller, Upper City, Lower City, surely she would find that book or… better yet… one that detailed the tether of a Master and Spawn. Fingers itched, mind whirred. She needed to taste her freedom, to learn what he wouldn’t divulge. Perhaps he would be impressed by her ambition, perhaps he would punish her for defiance.

But he wouldn’t begrudge her that freedom in the sun, not after all that she had just read about his past. Not when it was the same sweet prize he had sought and won to become the magnificent lord he was now.

He could be gone for hours, for all day, she decided. Sharp crimson eyes darted to his wardrobes packed with clothing. Practical clothing. Pants and tunics and cloaks. Maybe just… a quick rummage. Her light, little fingers danced over the rows of his garments, hoping to find something not too ostentatious or decadent. Black velvet trousers tied snug above her hips, a black silken chemise that wouldn’t reveal too much of her breasts with that low-dipped v cut—she was ready to climb and find her quarry.

Shoes slipped off, she knew it would be an easier climb barefooted, besides it’s how she had spent most of her time on the streets anyway. One leg out the window, and Lumina held her breath, that sunlight on her skin invigorated her. It bathed her, warmed her pale skin for the first time in weeks… it made every vein beneath her alabaster skin glow blue, it heated her bones and made her feel alive again.

Free again.

Emboldened by her freedom, she gracefully scampered down the vines. It was so easy to do, so glorious. She smiled to feel her feet in the dirt of the garden and vault over the stone walls back into the bustling streets of the Lower City.

Drawing the hood of his black cloak up over her head, she slunk in the shadows, surely a sight to behold. A small little girl, dressed in a man’s rich robes, stalking around like the urchin she was at heart. Bodies brushed against her on all sides, the pulse of the City, the bustling pace and breakneck ignorance of its populace for urchins like her… it would be so easy now to steal what she wanted.

Giddy, gleeful even, Lumina let her fingers dance into some fat vendor’s pocket to take their purse. It was just so easy, instinctive. Just a bump and an apology, and sure as Balduran’s balls, she was now one purse richer. Maybe a little weapon too… she smirked, mischievous and greedy. Just another helpless victim, another bump into her side and a mumbled apology… and now Lumina’s cool fingers closed around an elegant filigree hilt. She tucked its scabbard into her makeshift belt before continuing on to the closest book cart.

Her deft eyes skimmed the titles from beneath the canopy of her hood. Gold letters glint in the sun, her sharp eyes darting over every spine.

There… she gave a sigh of relief, the title she sought gleamed at her, brighter than a prized jewel. Stepping back, she eyed the cart vendor, a plump, stinking man who looked more interested in drinking than reading. She could practically smell the stale ale on his breath and scent the alcohol that tainted his blood, even from her distance.

Shaking her head, she tried to rid herself of these hypersensitivities, drawing back a pace until she couldn’t smell him anymore. Gagging, she tucked the purse of gold in her pocket; a man like that would be much more fun to rob than to waste her newly acquired money on.

All she had to do was wait…

After a few moments, he got up, lumbering around the corner, and Lumina smiled. Her undead heart would be racing with the thrill of the hunt, that rush of risk and reward, of being victorious or being caught.

Slinking to the far side of the cart, she pulled out the small green book, her quarry. Her steady hand began to slip it under her cloak until….

“What do you think you’re doing?” that stinking, sour breath was hot in her face as the cart keeper snatched her wrist and spun her around.

“Fuck,” Lumina cursed as fear gripped her soul and raced down her spine.

Out of practice, Little Light… she swore she could hear his mocking laughter in her head. Fuck, what would the Master say, she worried as she was dragged into the street.

“You wretched, dirty rat,” the keeper yelled in her face, spittle flying in her face and he yanked back her hood. Arresting the book from her hand, he flung her against the alley wall. “No one steals from me!”

“I have no need to steal,” Lumina lied, even as she caught herself against the brick wall. “My master is Lord Astarion Ancunín, and he will not like having his things manhandled thus.” She snapped, wrenching her hand from the man’s grubby fingers

More spit flew in her face as the man laughed, big and loud and rude. “Yeah sure, some hoity Council Member let his servant run in the streets barefoot to fetch books for them….”

“I fear the lady is right,” a silken purr rumbled from behind them both. Astarion stood, perfect in posture and confident in stance. “My Mistress is prone to such wild fantasies, wandering the street unshod, fetching books on drivel from half-brined booksellers…” Astarion turned up his nose and grimaced as he too took in the foul odor of the rotund man. “Beautiful women have their indulgences, and we must allow them their indulgences. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Astarion smirked, his silver brow quirked high on his forehead as he dangled a fat coin purse at the seller.

“Of course, my Lord,” came the reply as his fat fingers snatched it midair. “Lord Ancunín, I didn’t mean to…”

A withering, crimson stare was all it took to send the fat man fleeing back into the shadows.

“Come, Lumina,” Astarion grabbed her upper arm, firm but with a sickeningly sweet smile, “it’s time we got you home.”

With one last ditch effort, she snagged the copy of her desired book from the seller’s cart, a victorious grin on her pale face as she followed her master into the City’s fray.

Her little arm threaded through his, he walked her towards the Park, his head held high as if the woman on his arm didn’t look like some barefoot vagrant. Finally, he drew them to a stop beside the fountain. His crimson eyes leveled at her, Astarion’s brows furrowed. “Was it worth it, Little Light?” he asked, cold and yet casual in tone.

Lumina fought the urge to tremble. “My little shopping spree?”

“Thieving spree, you mean…” his brow quirked as he pulled out the purloined objects of her own efforts from his own pockets.. He pulled out her purse, her book, and her new little dagger carefully with a wicked, conceited grin, watching in amusement as she patted the places on her lithe, little body from where he had stolen them. “A rogue’s dexterity is not to be outmatched, no matter how desperate or eager you are…”

“Please give those…” she wanted to say more, but his other hand flew towards her face, planting a single finger over her lips.

And Lord Astarion smiled. “Ah ah,” he chided, “explain yourself first, and your punishments may be lessened.” His voice rippled with promise, a teasing and yet desirous tone lacing into his words. “Why does my newborn mistress, a spawn of several weeks now, need to conduct some… research of her own kind?” He set the purse and dagger in his pockets, flipping the pages of the little green book. Pausing, he locked eyes with her, licking his finger first, slow and deliberate, before turning to the next one. “What are you so eager to learn that you could not dare to ask your beloved Master?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she braced her hands on her hips, head tilting up at him in a show of confidence. “I walk in the sun, I can smell things… hear things… I couldn’t before.”

“Such as?” came his nonchalant reply.

“That oaf for one, I could almost taste the effects of his tenday long bender,” Lumina tried not to wretch at the memory. “And then there was the moment where I heard your voice inside my head…”

Something in his gaze shifted, something veiled now lifted, as if he was also surprised. “Indeed,” he purred, thumbing another page of the text. “And you decided to be disobedient and break my rules to seek out this uninformed drivel?” He scoffed, “Not to mention violating a few laws for good measure?”

“If you just gave me answers, Master; if you just gave me my own coin and a dagger, I wouldn’t need to steal them.”

“Oh, pet, I can deny you nothing,” he purred, “unless you might end up harmed in the process. You’re fortunate I stumbled upon you when I did, Lumina, or else you would be rotting in some Flaming Fist cell by now….”

“Pugh,” she folded her arms, that stare growing more defiant. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Astarion couldn’t hide it anymore; his chuckle rumbling in the air between them. It was undeniable, her petulant spark, it made him grin just slightly, that youthfulness that he would have once been drawn to, instead of seeking a way to snuff it as he had done for centuries as Ascendant.

Perhaps he would indulge this spark, just a little more.

A wry look on his face, he extended the book towards her. “If you want it, it’s yours, but in exchange, you’ll be punished, my dear.”

Lumina narrowed her crimson eyes, weighing the cost. She smirked to flash her own fangs, “Alright, I’ll bite.”

Astarion rolled his eyes at her cheap humor. “Puns are beneath us, Lumina,” he scoffed, irascible in tone. “Perhaps I shall extend your punishment for such plebeian humor.”

“And just what will be my punishment?” she goaded, thumbing her way through her hard-won prize. “Once I finish my research, that is…”

“You’ll have your answers, but they aren’t found in that layman’s examination of vampiric bonds. You are a near-secret of our kind, and just as there has never been a Vampire Ascendant before me, there has never been a creation quite like you before.” His eyes darkened with lust and glimmered with impatience. “And there will never be another like you after, I promise.”

Then, his fangs glinted as he grinned wider. “But those answers will only come once I’m through with you. You wish to know your punishment?” He leaned in until his lips brushed the shell of her ear. “I'm going to make you scream my name until your voice gives out, Little Light.”

His form seemed to ripple, and with a snap of his fingers, they both burst into mist and flew from the Park.

A strange tingle on her skin, or what would have been her skin, coursed through her. Pure magic unmade her, shifted her until all that remained was essence. Wind rushed around her, the sounds of voices and the smells of the Park rushed past her consciousness. It was as if her very being was cradled in his arms. Astarion pushed into her, threading into the very fabric of her existence—everywhere, all at once. Inside her, on her, through her… nothing more tangible than the sensation of his power taking root at her core as he raced them both up his palace walls and into the window of his own chambers.

Gasping like one near-drowned, Lumina once again stood on her own two legs, on her own bare feet, facing his crimson stare of ire.

She winced, surely, he would be brutal, beat her and punish her for her insolence. He would make her scream, he promised, the thought of it making her back sting in anticipation of a lash.

As her old master would, she thought with a pulse of fear and disgust.

Astarion’s presence before snapped her out of that pit of self-loathing. For now, he just tilted his head and gave her that lazy, mischievous smirk. Long, skilled digits grasped her hand, pulling her against him to bring her finger into his mouth. With precision, his fang sliced into its pad, his tongue sucking the blood as it seeped. “Such sticky fingers need cleaning,” she heard him say, right into her mind, his mouth preoccupied and his eyes flashing a dangerous amusement at her shocked expression.

“What in the hells…” she gasped, the thought somehow making him smile around her bleeding digit.

“Oh, darling mistress, seems you have more and more to uncover by the second,” he purred, his voice now a caress in her mind, a tender brush up her spine to tingle her ear. He pulled his finger from her lips with a pop. His true voice was almost sticky with that ripple of danger and the lingering dregs of her blood. “But first, we must see to your punishment, my Light, as delicious as it might be.”

His grip on her waist was firm, guiding her towards his bed again. His teeth glinted as he grinned, that dark mischief shining in the crimson of his eyes. “By rights, you should be cuffed in a cell for thievery. I should know, I once, long ago, gave such sentences for urchins like you.”

Lumina caught it, just a glimpse, a far off look in his eyes, a dower frown, his mind recalling pieces of him so deeply buried by time and pain. Somewhere in her own chest, she could sense that grief, that ancient, nearly-forgotten longing. Then he turned away, and the feeling vanished.

“As your Master, I shall have to take matters into my own hands, I suppose,” he commented, reaching into his drawer, the one where he kept all sorts of things for play and punishment, Lumina knew. She heard his choice before seeing it, the heavy clanking of chains filling her with excitement and dread. “A nice pair of shackles will do, nothing elegant for my little thriving urchin of a mistress.” He rounded on her, the irons in his skilled fingers. “You know what to do, darling,” he just stared at Lumina, a challenge of a smirk on his full lips, eyes darting towards the bed.

Pausing, she waited for the tendrils of his compelling to take root, sought that shadowed presence to command her body, but they never did…

“Well, darling?” he just repeated, firmer and more agitated.

Lumina drew in a breath and moved to sit at the edge of the bed, her wrists in front of her, a smile growing on her face. He shed his decadent coat, his own silken shirt following to lie in a mess on the floor. His boots followed the same fate. “Now, Lumina, you seem rather youthful, bent on willful defiance, this need to discover who I once was and who you are now. Stuff of fools and children.” A chilling smirk on his lips, his eyes still sparked with a sense of mischief, the same she had found with increasing frequency in their fucking. “Since you insist on acting like a child, let’s play a game,” he smirked. “I will ask you a question, a simple one… and if you are correct, I’ll let you find your release…”

The implication as to her failure hung in the air, his hand firmly guiding her to lay in the center of his bed. Her shackles clanked as he drew her arms overhead and bound them to his headboard. His chuckle reverberated in her bones as he leaned to press a kiss on her pressed lips. “Now, here is your question… what are you?”

“If you had let me read my book…” she started to argue, but Astarion just shoved two fingers in her insidious mouth. His gag as effective and sudden, her tongue pressing against him, fighting for breath as he pumped his fingers slightly between her lips.

“Hush,” he smirked at her, condescending and delighted. “You are allowed one answer each time,” his smirk twisted all the darker, “and you just used your first one…” His hands splayed wide on her hips, pulling her taut against her restraints. Fingers dug into her ass, lifting her to rip off his own loosely fit trousers. Her pale legs writhed, rubbing together to already seek the friction she craved. “Ah ah,” he corrected with a low growl, “I’ll be the one to dole out your delicious punishment. Now hold still and take what’s coming to you.”

With that, he lifted her hips up, his mouth ready to lick her and devour that already dripping essence. Tongue parting through her folds, he lapped through her seam, teasing her, toying as he licked and sucked everywhere between her thighs but her hard little bud and her clenching channel.

“Master…” she whined.

He lifted his head slowly, eyes blown wide and dilated as he chuckled. “For what you are, my Light, you get the privilege of screaming my name as you beg and plead.” His tongue danced along the edge of her folds, sucking and nipping the flesh of her thighs until she bucked hard against him.

“Astarion…” she whined, nervous at first, as if unsure she truly had his permission for it.

“Louder,” he crooned his order, letting his breath alone tickle her clit.

“Astarion,” she whined full-throated this time, making him chuckle.

“That’s it, darling, you’ll grow sick of my name on your lips, soon enough, but for now, let’s drive you right to the edge….”

“Fuck!” she cursed, unable to hide her urchin-tongue as his finally swiped over her clit. Relentless, he swirled around it at last, making every nerve ending between her thighs burst into flame. She could feel her wetness leaking, summoned more by every pass of his mouth over her entrance.

But never in it.

“Please,” she yanked on her restraints, “your fingers too, please…”

He merely laughed into her folds, letting his tongue swirl and vibrate against her clit until she was gasping above him.

Then he sat back up, wiping the arousal off his chin with the back of his hand.

Lumina groaned and writhed, that wave of climax once so close, vanished just as quickly. Her little noises of frustration from her pale throat made him chuckle. He rose to his knees, a sinister and delighted smirk on his face. “So close, weren’t you, my darling?” he chuckled again, fangs peeking from his parted lips. “Care for another guess in our little game?” He tilted his head, a hand running through his shoulder-length waves of hair. “What are you?”

“Your obedient, loyal, loving spawn, master,” she answered dutifully. She smiled as he crawled closer, pressing his clothed hips against hers as he lowered into her.

“Tch,” he sucked his teeth, “closer, but still shy of the mark.” He ground his hips against that sopping apex of her thighs. The thick velvet of his pants was soon soaked by her, but he just gave that low, rumbling laugh. “Another round of punishment then, my sweet.” He yanked her by the hair, pulling her head back, his lips brushing her neck where it curved just right for him. “And you forgot to use my name, dear. Not master. Not when it’s just you and me…”

That grinding between her legs made her eyes water, just enough friction to drive her wild, but still not enough. It made her ache. Made her burn. Made her stare up into his face with utter desperation in her own crimson eyes as a few tears dripped down. “Astarion,” she whimpered, more pathetic sounding than she wished.

“Well, when you sound that remorseful, what kind of Sire would I be to deny you some of what you seek…” he crooned, an edge of victory in his voice, a shine of amusement in his gaze. Deft and quick, he unbuttoned his trousers, a low chuckle as he watched her strain against her shackles to watch. She practically drooled for him, her seam leaking in equal amounts of wet to finally feel that pressure inside her.

Gods, she was beautiful, wanting him.

“You’re so perfect, Lumina,” he growled, “and you’re so totally and utterly mine…”

Her shriek pierced the quiet of his palace, a heady mix in her tone of ecstasy and relief as he filled her to the hilt in one thrust. His breath was hot against her neck, his hands skating his nails down her sides, “But remember, my Light, you don’t get to come until I say you may…” His tone was venomous and playful, a promise and a dare all wrapped in the velvet notes of his voice. A slow, grinding pace he set, taking his time to savor every flutter of her walls. It would be quick, he grinned, letting his hips slowly roll into her, he didn’t have long to push her right to the edge once more….

“Think hard… my dear… just what are you?” his question rumbled in her ear, gravel in his voice making her shudder hard beneath him. He groaned, quickening his pace, his own need for release taking root. Easy, he warned himself, his eyes locked on her face, observing every clench of her jaw in bliss, every gasp she made as she grew closer and closer…

Just as her body began to buck and clench, his cock slipped out, his hand wrapped hard around it. His fist beating his length was good, but her cry of anguish was all the more exquisite, sending that burst of pleasure from his core to race through him as he came. Cum spewed out on her belly, her hips bucking and grinding before him as she bemoaned her fate.

“Fuck…” she cursed through clenched fangs, sweat dripping down her angelic face. “Balduran’s… balls…” she tried to clench her thighs together, but his hands pried them apart so easily.

That made him laugh, breathless and a bit exhausted through his open mouth. “Having met the legend myself, I doubt he would appreciate you speaking thus of his balls. And I certainly don’t approve of you speaking of anyone else’s either, pet…” his fingers stroked through her hair gently before giving her head a corrective yank. “My balls will just have to be enough for you for eternity.”

She stared at him, a mix of frustration and longing that set his heart racing again.

“Now, let’s try this question one more time for now, before I leave you to contemplate your choices, my love.” His gaze skimmed the sight of her half-naked in his bed, his own black silk shirt stained now from his seed and her sweat. “Think hard, my cunning Little Light, what… are… you?”

Lumina chewed her lip, her gaze flickering around his room, lost in thought as she considered her response wisely. “You said I was your… mistress… not your spawn, not your concubine…”

“That’s what I said,” he purred, sliding his fingers through his cum, gathering it on his fingers before he teased it into her folds. “My question, love, is what do you think you are now?” He let the slick sounds of his fingers inside her distract that train of thought she was clearly attempting to recover. “Well?” he insisted, catching her clit with his thumb and making her gasp another curse.

She seemed to relax, a serenity in her gaze, a softness around her mouth as she tilted her head most alluringly. “Yours… I’m yours,” she whispered, toneful and beautiful in its submission.

“Mmmm, a beautiful proclamation,” he crooned but withdrew his touch and stood from the bed, regardless. Flashing her a wicked smirk, he savored the look of devastation on her pale countenance. “While I thoroughly enjoy such a confession, it’s just… not quite the response I seek.” Fastening his trousers, he shrugged his shoulders, smiling twistedly like that arrogant bastard he truly was.

“Astarion, please!” she panted, wretched and devastated as she could only watch him depart.

He paused at his wardrobe, choosing a new shirt, sliding that crisp cream silk over his immaculate body as he turned one more time. “Don’t fret too long, my love. I’ll return soon. In the meantime, you can use your time wisely. Weigh your answers… Oh, and you can use this, if you can manage to open it, that is.” He tossed her that green-covered book, the title accusing her as it landed just within reach of her bound hands. The Curse of the Vampyre, indeed. He laughed merrily, low and rumbling in his chest. “I’ll see you later, I’m sure, darling.”

The thud of the door shutting behind him only spurred Lumina into action all the quicker. She would give him his answer and earn her release. Physically and carnally.

Hours it seemed creeped by, that little book her only distraction from the arch of her arms and the wet, lingering burn between her thighs. She awkwardly flipped pages, dropping it on her face from time to time when the shackles got in her way. Page after page revealed nothing new, and she cursed Astarion for being right, dreading how he would preen and gloat when she admitted defeat.

Food sources… seduction… vulnerabilities… that section no longer applied to her, she furrowed her brow. The creation of a spawn… the nourishment of her kind…

That made her hungry belly growl, and as if she wished it into existence, she smelled blood. The door creaked open, and Lumina fixed her gaze on the silver cup brimming with blood.

Only once that chilling laugh sounded from its bearer did Lumina glance at who held the cup.

“Morana,” she hissed fangs bared as she tried to hide her half dressed state.

“I just couldn’t resist the opportunity to replace a poor, freighted servant from entering the Master’s chambers to bring you your meal at his orders,” the tiefling’s dark eyes glimmered with hatred, her voice like vitriol as she sarcastically pouted and preened, “Is the Master’s Bride starving?”

“The… Master’s what?” Lumina went deathly still. There had been one line that book… the unknown characteristics of a Sire’s Bride or Groom. She had thought nothing of it an hour ago. “What did you just call me?”

[shiyorin]

The Inquisitor knows about yandere astartes, it won't end well

Inquisitor [REDACTED] report on yandere Astartes (????)

+++ CLASSIFICATION: [LOCK]

+++ CLEARANCE: Obsidian

+++ ENCRYPTION: [LOCK]

+++ DATE: 327.M38

+++ AUTHOR: Inquisitor [REDACTED], Ordo Malleus 

+++ SUBJECT: INVESTIGATION INTO SUSPECTED GENEFLAW AFFECTING ADEPTUS ASTARTES SUBJECTS ACROSS ALL CHAPTERS AND FOUNDINGS

+++ EYES ONLY HIGHEST TRANCHESINQUISITORIAL CASE FILE [EXCISED]

Summary of Findings:

Initial reports of this suspected "Geneflaw" first reached my conclave several terran years ago. Astartes assets deployed to war zones began exhibiting highly erratic behaviors and perverse compulsions unbecoming of the Emperor's finest warriors.

Behavioral divergences included:

Unnatural emotional outbursts and loss of emotional mastery

Uncontrollable sexual urges and deviant acts

Possessive, clingy behaviors violating sacred chains of command

Irrational self-destructive and anti-imperial actions driven by object fixations

At first, these cases seemed sporadic and isolated across different Chapters. However, as more deplorable incidents piled up, a clear pattern emerged. Something grievous had gone wrong on a fundamental level.

Excerpted examples of documented cases:

[REDACTED] - BLOOD ANGELS CHAPTER Audio log of Sanguinary Priest [REDACTED]

"Some dark curse has been visited upon our Chapter. A growing number of my battle-brothers have become… afflicted with wanton hungers. No mere physical needs, but all-consuming fixations on certain mortals within our care."

"They will stop at nothing to "claim" these individuals for themselves, body and soul. Any attempt at intervention results in unthinkable acts of disobedience and violence…"

[SAMPLE ENDS]

[REDACTED] - BLACK TEMPLARS CHAPTER Thought downloading from captured Chaplain [REDACTED] upon interrogation

"The time for restraint is at an end. I can bear this throbbing in my soul no longer! She must know the depth of my unfettered desire, the fever pitch of my infatuation. If she does not return these longings, I shall shatter worlds until the God-Emperor take pity!"

*Interrogator's Note: [NEUTRALIZE]

[REDACTED] - EXCORIATOR CHAPTER Recorded pict-captures from helm-cams during incursion on [REDACTED]

-Extreme Battlefield Fraternization between crusaders and human auxiliaries -Acts of exhibitionism and self-mutilation by crusaders -Systematic execution of any battle-brother expressing disgust at above actions -Final pict: [REDACTED]

The list of astartes goes on. Worse, there appear to be no patterns in age, founding, homeworld or even primarch genealogy. These repulsive behaviors are emerging across every Adeptus Astartes chapter at random. The Imperium teeters on the brink of an catastrophic, gene-coded crisis.

Research into potential countermeasures and remedies continues. However, my conclusions thus far firmly advocate an extreme response to contain this threat.

RECOMMENDED ACTIONS:

1) Immediate executions for any Astartes subject exhibiting Geneflawed behaviors. No exceptions.

2) Full and systematic extinction-level viral bombings against all potentially compromised Chapters and fleets.

3) Pre-emptive destruction of all Astartes gene-seed repositories, along with any Adeptus Mechanicus factions and forge worlds implicating in its creation or study.

Only through the complete erasure of this genetic stock can the essence of the Adeptus Astartes be preserved for the inevitable darkness yet to come.

The Emperor's work must be done, no matter how abominable the means required.

I await your tribunal's final judgment on this matter.

Thought for the Day: "There is nothing to be gained through mercy, only fleeting weakness and eventual damnation."

-Inquisitor [REDACTED]

[stromuprisahat]

Siege and Storm- Chapter 23

Watching the Darkling work is always delight. *giggles*

Look around, Alina... One of the greatest advantages of nichevo'ya is the mess they leave behind. They're obviously conscious to some extent, but when you're food, you'll be torn apart without mercy. Effective and devastating.

I will do them no harm... This is so easy to interpret in several ways! The Darkling isn't promising anything, not a single lie uttered.

It's beautiful how easy is it to use truth and Alina's loneliness to weaken her determination to oppose him.

Fucker is intentionally hinting on naughty things to make Manly Man angry and drive home the point of him never being able to understand Alina.

*slow clap*

The horror of Genya's punishment is a part of the strategy. She wouldn't be brought in, were Alina to give up before this point.

What happens to traitors, who aren't also a bargaining chip?

What were the Darkling's further plans for Genya? Because even direct disobedience doesn't seem to be a reason enough to execute a person with such an (originally) unique talent.

... and it works. Using Genya's punishment as a warning example has the desired effect on Alina. No more fighting, capitulation.

"It's so horrible what he did..." NO. This is warfare 101. You force the other side to give up with losses as low as possible. And Genya chose her fate, when she disobeyed a direct order in middle of a fight. She could've died, instead her punishment was used to prevent further fighting and possible loss of more (loyal) lives.

The Darkling didn't stop them. Slaughter isn't the point. Alina's surrender is.

I've waged the war... Sure, it's a simplification, but not wrong.

Calling her minigroup "Second Army" will never cease to amuse me, but why not- Alina likes high stakes and fatalism. She doesn't care about those she cannot see, so let her believe she "killed" all of them. She'll blame herself anyway- the martyr she likes to paint herself as-, so why not use it purposefully?

It's also kinda sad Aleksander had to learn to pinpoint Alina's walking baggage to get her to listen.

Alina's in no position to lay down conditions, yet the Darkling indulges her. She has NO leverage, yet he's willing to let her set terms.

Some cruel tyrant.

[lovelipton]

From Eden.

Chapter 8.

Smut Warning! Age Gap. P and V sex. Oral sex. Bath sex. Look, two people match each other's freak, and I can't give anymore warnings.

Also I'm tagging my moots @qyburnsghost because I took way too long with this.

He should’ve anticipated her dark eyes turning in his direction, yet they managed to shock him as easily as they found his. She was submerged in the water, suds and bubbles floating about with her hair tied back, all the warm light from he flames made her a reflection of gold and bronze. Never so surely had a glance won his worst interest back.

Her expression wasn’t one to be read, by the time she turned to get a wash cloth and continue without any acknowledgement towards his presence, he had no clue what she might feel towards him. For all he could call it, her silence wasn’t petty, it simply cared to be. He made his way to her side as he had all those times before glancing anywhere but her in the process. Half of it was his own arrogance , refusing to be ignored yet he felt he knew the next half was simply the desire to disrupt an impregnable silence.

Even if she ordered him to leave it would be a word towards him he thought absent-mindedly. Ever so unpredictable, she turned towards him, glistening from the water, knees to her chest.

“Welcome back. You weren’t gone for long at all.” Her tone held some malice in it, as it should be given the tone of his departure. Her face gave no covering to the disdain she felt towards him now. Her eyes were hooded with her mouth puckered together to prevent any warmth. She would make him work for her favor.

“Perhaps our next fight will deal a lesson in telling time.” To that he smiled, it was just a small insult yet his pride did not take it to heart. If she needed to yell and degrade, the least he could do was endure it.

“Did you eat?” He asked her out of concern, he could see from her reaction she was too caught up in this rehearsed conversation to think about herself. She scowled at him now, something he’d never seen her show before. His past thoughts felt like misjudgments to her character, a clear communication in how little he truly knew about her.

“Did I fucking eat!” There was a break in the air as she raised her voice taking an exasperated tone, another thing she had never done. It was the closest portrait to the idea he had of her from Jace’s letters. Her calves aided in her modesty as she turned herself to him, he tried his best not to look past them, never once leaving her angry eyes. Her brows furrowed towards him, almost like a parent to her disobedient child. She had no reason to know that look yet she did it well enough to the point he felt Alysanne’s eyes on his.

“Where were you?” She changed her tune again, taking what seemed to be remorseful approach towards their conversation. He wasn’t sure he could begin to understand her, in truth he needed her forgiveness more than she’d know. They were both too familiar to allow it to fester as it had. Her eyes welled with tears, unblinking, awaiting his response.

“A brothel.” There was an ease replaced by a returning anger now, a more violent one, as though if only for a moment she’d forget what little proprietary remained and curse and pummel him.

“You left me angry and spiteful because of a brothel. To fuck a whore.” There was a trembling in her voice that chilled him. Still he saw an ease in her expression that he fell into. As though it meant he was free from the torment of what he had left unsaid. Her body joined her voice as she started shaking, rocking into herself and laughing.

He stopped and watched her entire demeanor shift wondering if he had sent her mad. Her tears that followed added to his concern, if he had hurt her in that way, to threaten her sanity over his stupidity.

Her laughs grew until they were happy sounding, a belly laugh with tears of joy, as though she’d been to a bar the entire night. He was at a disbelief at how quickly her emotions changed, wondering if one person could feel that extent of emotions. He’d never seen anyone so bare before, unashamed about all she clearly felt, hurt, hatred, betrayal and whatever he couldn’t assume.

When she dulled her expression she returned to the rocking, a comfort in the silence as she decided what tone she could take the night in. Another version of madness as the scent of the room creeper around him to lose his thoughts in. A naked girl in front of him and yet the smell of her and oranges entranced him all the same. His body betrayed him as he focused his thoughts on anything but his growing hardness. She gazed at him still, her hands moved from wrapped around to tracing the edge of the tub, seemingly delighting in his lost train of thought.

“Say something.” She was hushed now, quietly gauging him as he had her all those moments ago, trying to see where his mind was. It was a clear madness that they created as he laughed before answering.

“I should’ve told you where I was going.” It was an easy confession, too easy for him to think it would she sufficient. Her body seemed to ease with his words, not as tightly wound as it had been, an attempt to believe him, open up perhaps.

“I truly would not have judged you. You are a man with needs. I’m a girl with them.”

The thought rushed into his mind, he knew the comparison she was drawing, some part of him knew it was based on her earlier stories of couples and her latest with a Tully, yet his mind gripped the possibility all the same that she could suggest a conclusion with them. He felt mad now.

“Daemon?” She looked at him with a quiet concern, trying to dictate if all could start to be well between them.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. You have my full honesty now.” He felt strange in a word. His head felt light with the scent around him, the light around them seemed to glow more than shine. A small cup of bar ale would not have him like this, yet he gave into it, a certain freedom he had not give into before around her seemed to be the only right conclusion.

His reaction was rushed, in truth he simply wished for them to reach a place of comfort. It was all he wished for from the start, a true insistence. She reached out for one of his hands, tracing over the tips and pads of his fingers with h her thumb, as though it was a regular occurrence. Neither of their hands held bandages from their night, he thought, it was an aimless vision to see.

“Full honesty?” She cocked her brow at him, immediately making his breath race as she leaned closer, as much as she could without compromising modesty.

“You smell horrible.” Her whisper was intoxicating yet he caught her message enough to pace his reaction. A small laugh met her wicked smile as she leaned back making the water splash against the walls of the bath.

“I should have the maids arrange one after you.” It was a heedless answer, one in which her response did not warrant.

“Join me.”

He felt his head jolt before his body decided that was the movement, if she was unaware of her statement, her nonchalance did little to communicate it. He could feel the shock through his body, in the tips of his fingers where her hand rested moments ago. The Gods were cruel masters yet he was still shocked by her insistence. Surely she didn’t mean it.

“Daemon?” Her voice was unwavering, almost monotone and drawing him back entirely, she had moved herself to one edge of the bath, only two feet away from where he sat now. The bath was large enough for them both yet, some part of them would touch, it was too small to prevent even the smallest touch between them, he was at a loss.

“We’ve done it before, My Lord.”

She said it as though she did not remember the craze it had caused, her confession, an unsustainable blood pact, a kiss between them, how she fueled his mind. Even the thought brought back the scent of sand, the feel of it on his skin.

“You need not as well. It is simply an option.” She was concerned now. A symptom of his chosen coping to her offer. He’d have to answer, even if it was to deter her, they were close enough now that she did not see any issue with it.

“Unlike then, we’d both be naked.” He was right, he was just in that declaration, his tone was strong. The Gods may not be done with him yet, the restraint of him now was the hardest test. Why did she make it so hard? He should say no outright, she wouldn’t make him by any means. The worst part of him knew that it was the best suggestion she could’ve made. Logic and lust would tear at him to his end.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before. Same with you.”

It was something about the end he did not care to facilitate. He could walk away and leave, her eyes seemed set on her victory now, to what end, he couldn’t begin to understand. She was warm surely. There was a heat in him she belonged to, a bath couldn’t just be a bath, if it was to her, he’d be misleading her. At what point was that warmth bigger than all the precedent he set to protect her. Did she care?

“I’ll close my eyes for half a minute, you can either join or leave without a word.”

She put her hands over her eyes, the sound of the water trickling was almost music to him. He removed his doublet first, hesitating only at the buttons as he contemplated himself. She gained nothing from this, he reminded himself. The girl simply grew into his company, she desired him only as a companion. His dress shirt and breeches coming off surely marked a minute, yet her hands refused to move it self. With his small clothes off, his cock met the night air, springing forward in her company. His head was light as he crossed over to the near edge, submerging himself in the warm water, shielding him from the night air.

The water pooled at his waist as it rose to just below her breast. He wondered how long it was she found herself in the tub to maintain the warmth. He was curious to if the maids would question him being clean. Her hands dropped with that thought, a sly smile covering her face.

“Do you wish for lavender or cinnamon?” She asked unabashedly, as though she had planned to bathe him herself. He reveled in the hope of the offer. Could he not give in?

“I wish not to smell like a country lord.” His tone was more direct than he could remember being with her, as though his old self had started to join them. It was strange, yet she continued smiling.

“Is dragon stink and street ale a preference, Your Grace?” She turned away to a small cot alongside the bath that held little bottles of oils, choosing for him as she grabbed her discarded cloth. She did mean to bathe him it seemed.

“Dragon stink is the smell of an empire.” He justified, he heard a soft chuckle escape her and he felt bruised for a moment. She would laugh at his half earnest confessions if he let her.

“Or the excuse of an old man.” She retorted . The air grew playful now, as though they were closer. He reminisced on the humor he shared with other girls like her. Mysaria was a dry wit and Rhaenyra would humor him. Only Laena had ever been any type of combative. He looked at her with that gaze, she was unlike them all in most ways. She was unlike anything before her to him. Entirely new.

He held his breath when she came closer with the oil soaked cloth, with her knees down he had full sight of her breast, she had allowed the air to leave the room with her sudden, wanted nakedness. It was wonton, yet he was a desperate beggar at the sight of them. Her breast stood firm and her nipples were pebbled out the water, she drew too near for him to care if she question his intentions while staring, he was in awe.

Her eyes met his, with a shy smile, a flattered one as she began to scrub his neck, focusing on whichever area she touched. He did not dare say a word to it. Her legs were crossed as she settled near him, her breast moved with the water at her tiniest movement as she moved down to his neck and back, scrubbing at scars older than her. His cock was quite visibly hard, if her hands moved to his chest she’d be aware, yet he kept a silent atmosphere. Without words and actions it could mean nothing.

“I’ve come to a conclusion.” She stooped at his chest, just before she could need to address the state he was in. He turned his attention to his eyes, peeling them away from her soaked body. She did not wait on his ask before stating it.

“I do not have dragon blood.” The pleasant silence turned into a thunderous one. The weight of it boomed across the room, more than a hundred bards could hope to. He wanted to know why, to what end.

“I know what you believe and think but I simply do not care. I know who and what I am.” He couldn’t make out the smell of the oil she chose, yet it was as intoxicating as the oranges. She could be part fish for all he cared now, she drew his desire out like blood. Her bold claim simply stayed in the air, simply unyielding to his own beliefs, she did not care.

“Then you are not. Simply put.” He believed it he realized. The understanding affirmed something deep in his unsettled spirit. It was impossible but if he had to believe something to that end, there was no louder voice to convince him. Her face seemed off put by his agreement, resting on an ease he himself could see, as though the answer took root in her. He was unsure he had that effect on her.

For the first time, he felt as though there was a clarity in how he saw her. She was young, bold and emotional. She would not, perhaps she could not, hide herself from him, it was unnerving as it clicked that he was the same for her. All his faults, she had heard in legend, she had yet to hold a rumor, the accusations of others against him. The place she held was one untied to politics and court life. Her words only brought her comfort, she meant nothing more.

His eyes shifted to her full lips. She noticed it and made no motion to deter him. He imagined the night before, how the moon looked, how he felt, how she flowed into him and he into her, a commitment towards deities past them, long neglected in the demise of Old Valyria. Only with the name Targaryen behind them. Was it so different? She could be many things, he need only ask.

His thoughts were scrambled beyond thoughts as he noticed the stretch marks that began to spider her body. She was growing, gaining weight around her arms and thighs, fulling out to a more womanly shape yet her lips drew him back to her.

“You promised there would be an after the war.” Her breath was hot and clinging to him. She truly was that close, her warmth compensating for the deteriorating heat of the bath. He felt boundless, in this state, so much could happen if he leaned in, if his fingers left the bounds of him to graze her thigh.

“I did.” She let go of the cloth and cupped the side of his face, aligning their eyes to entrap his eyes, he needed her.

“Still?” Leaning in closer as she whispered, a careless secret between them, he’d hold it forever if she wanted.

“Always.” It was a promise deeper than blood. She was a state of being for him. He’d earned her, he’d won her favor. Anything for her was a guarantee

“And you live?” Her breath raised ever so slightly, she was a gentle nudge away from him. Perhaps seduction had been her intention. He hoped to not deter it now. He was as honest as he should’ve been.

“I’m not sure anymore.” There was a liberation in it, and a reckoning as her lips found his.

It was a hurried affair, her pulled her face as quick as his loss of composure would allow. She seemed equally as frantic as she slid her tongue into his mouth. It was a cruel dance, a quick one as she pulled away, creating tension to push back into as she got on her knees. There was no anticipation with her movements, they were as sure as her expressions. The water created a symphony as he gripped on her, no remorse or contemplation as he pulled her on in. Her legs landed on either side of him as her body accepted their every motion.

“ We can stop.” He broke away to say. So many thoughts, he wished to say, so many words came to mind to let her know, but as quickly as he said his peace, she was back on his tongue. The scent of the bath seemed to fuel it. This great lust between them was unlike any he had before. It was devouring him from the inside out, digesting whatever constraint he held between her thighs like this.

Yet she refused to answer him. At any other time he’d withhold himself, ease his mind into toying with her, demanding her answer and drawing out her resolve. Now he was a mad man who nearly came as she let her hips grind against his. Their arousal filled the room as she moved against him. She broke away to his jaw as she continued with reckless abandon. He could feel her wetness, he couldn’t resist his moan as she continued her relentless teasing.

“ I like when you moan.” It was a cruel comment now. He craved to be inside her, yet at her rate and his age it would be too much for the thought. His hand slid between her thighs to her peak as he began a torturous retort without words.

Her back arched , pushing her into his chest as he fitted his fingers between her folds, he pressed his thumb against it as his two fingers descended into her slit. It drew the most erotic moan he’d ever care cared to earn. Her hips rolled into him. Her hand took up his cock from behind and began a similar pursuit.

With their crazed movements the water splashed out of the tub and drowned the floors until not enough water was left. In the haze of the lust he could barely see anything that wasn’t her, yet she was so clearly defined. Her now loose curls bounced with her chest at his every thrust, she was both wet and sweaty in an insatiable mix that cause her skin to glisten. She could gladly be the end of him.

Her moans were becoming clear indicator of how near her peak was, half selfishly, he stopped his fingering and waited for her to settle.

She focused, eyes half open, head slowly turning back to him instead of solely entrenched in the pleasure of the moment. He knew he needed to say nothing for her but he couldn’t help himself.

He took to her neglected chest and started his long awaited coupling towards the middle. He was slow and languished in the taste of her in his mouth. It was the salt of her sweat and the oil from the oranges that took over, impairing his ability to do much else.

Before he turned to the other, he found the clarity in his mind to continue their endeavor.

“I want you to take me inside you when you come.” He enticed her enough to return to his chosen pursuit as she rather shamelessly, wordlessly descended on his cock.

His own cries were muffled into her chest while she howled at the introduction. She simply began rolling her hips towards him, at her own pace while they drew nearer to the precipice. His tongue licked and nipped at every inch of her while she rode him. Her warm heat was unyielding atop him. He felt his restraint bleed out slowly into her warmth.

Many quips came to as thought and died on his tongue as she changed direction, bouncing now as he held her in place. He brought himself to move to meet her with his own thrusts. He grew into his climax, every time they met, until it was nothing more than a needy clawing at release. She tightened with each bounce, her cries became frantic until she lurched forward in a hazy fall, shuddered into her apex, his continued thrusting, joined by the addition of his hand, brought her to her peak with one last cry. He followed suit lost in his lust, neglecting to try to save some deniability later on as he came inside her, releasing his warm seed into her without a hint of worry as she felt out her climax.

There was something to be said for the aftershock of pleasure he felt. It was the weight of her, the way she had molded herself during it, her lack of composure that she tried now to gain. There was nothing that was like her in this world. He caught his breath, feeling his mind suddenly care of what had occurred between them. He felt more like himself than he had in a long while. He looked at her to be reaffirmed, yet she seemed still caught in the moment.

He took to rubbing his hands down her back, assuring comforting words, not sure if he had hurt her. He had softened inside her before she made any movement to show how she felt. Her face was uncommunicative to how she felt.

“I should go…”

Her first words to him trailed off as she prepared her absence, it felt like a part of him was carved out as she raised up off him, he was entirely uncertain about how she had felt after as she got out of the now cooled tub, without another word to say if she was offended, she left, taking some half of him as she left.

He was wordless has he cleaned himself fully in her absence, his mind racing with any possibility that she wasn’t well. Perhaps this was the cost of desire, the cost of getting to close, going to far with her. He felt himself developed a headache in the contemplation. The room felt damp and unwelcoming now, his eyes burned with the repetition of all that had happened, unblinking as though she would reappear on him. He was tired by the time he had gotten out of the tub, careful to mind the spilled water as the burden of the affair had set into his skin.

It wasn’t simply an affair, he had a duty to many things, to her was without question. He’d have to protect her from court life, the whispers would remain whispers, unless she grew with child, he reckoned. That thought set in as he opened the door. She’d need moon tea, without question.

He was startled by her waiting presence in the room, looking directly as he entered, she seemed bashful. He could cope with shyness, he’d delight if that was her only feeling.

Her eyes widened as she began to say words that would falter in a few attempted syllables . Eventually, he decided on the mercy of speaking first, sparing her introduction.

“Are you well?” He recalled it, such a simple question, yet it held a moment for them, so different from who they were now. She shook her head yes before standing, not entirely sure who she was meant to convince.

Making her way to him, he realized she was as unchanged as she had left, perhaps she was simply overwhelmed by the instance. He could help but think back to it, how much more he’d want to show her, how many ways he’d want to see her, yet she had not voiced anything akin to that being a conclusion she hadn’t said anything at all.

“I will not be your whore. I cannot return to court with a bastard. I would not do that to your children, to Her Grace.”

Her conviction made him sigh, perhaps he should feel guilty for it, he would not have her be that to him, she was all too important to be reduced to a pleasure. She was so much of him, encompassing him in everything he wanted. He’d dedicate his life to that. Whatever she needed, he hold on to life for her.

“I would never ask that of you.” He cupped her chin, pulling her sight to him, it was an earnest principle. She was so much more than he could make her know. It was an overwhelming sensation. He felt old, looking at her, she was simply so full of life. He felt stagnant as she worked her mind to figure out what she wanted to say. He felt a drunk high yet entirely sober in her light and warmth.

His hand slid to her cheek as she leaned into his touch, ever so slightly, yet it simply felt striking. He could feel himself growing into her again, he felt aroused by what she was attempting. She could say what she wanted, get anything she asked of him, he needed to know that she was sure in that.

“I’d need moon tea now.” There was the flash of shyness he saw, she almost seemed embarrassed at the mention of it. She wasn’t wrong, he would not wound her with a bastard, cruel as it may be, as wanting as the idea seemed to grow as it festered in her thoughts. To see her change because of him, due to their passions, it was a liberating idea entirely. It doomed her much worse.

“Of course.” He wouldn’t let it take hold of him. That hopefulness with her was nice in time, after granted her protection, he’d keep her safe by any means.

An ease seemed to take over them. Her eyes where more playful, perhaps it was his hopefulness reflected in her. Perhaps he had earned her comfort.

“You were quick.” She jested at him now. He wanted to return the favor. He could imagine it now. He craved her like the best thing he’d ever tasted, she could be, he mused, smiling at the thought of their indiscretion. She wished to play with him. He needed nothing more. He moved forward, after ensuring it moved her back.

“This is always better with time. There are so many things I want to learn about you.”

He grabbed out to her hand as they went deeper into the room, only stopping when her calves hit the edge of the bed. He took her hand to his lips , grazing it slowly, an affection their pace had deterred a few moments ago. He saw her breath hitch at the touch of him. He lavished in it. In her every reaction. He was hard again, yet the need to know her overtook his own sensibilities, any hesitation he still kept, dissolved at the noise she made when his lips finally reached neck. It was low, and guttural, giving him everything he knew he needed from her in one moment.

He took a confidence in these revelations, moving his tongue in small circles, up her tightened jaw, until his mouth found hers. She was eager. She practically feasted on him, making him question his every want in that moment before he returned to setting the pace. He pulled away for a bit, drawing out his return until a whimper fell from his lips. He smiled at it.

“You need to pace yourself, you’ll love it if you let it build.” She groaned as gently as one could, as he reintroduced their lips, slowly, letting his tongue make up for any lack of passion becoming of the pace. They had enough time. She had taunted his return with the query of the night being young, shouldn’t they revel in it?

She grew into his timing, pulling at his robe, not undressing him as he made up for his reveling with how he wished to experience her. His mind slowly faltered to her answer as he could not make up his mind, his pace slowed as he tried to draw words from her.

“Tell me what you want.” He drew himself to her ear, nipping at the lobe as he asked.

She simply moaned, yet it wouldn’t do, he undid the tie of her robe, having her scantily clothed in his presence. Not enough to lessen his question, just enough to stir her need to answer. His hands met her tender nipples, stroking them between his thumb and index, having her arch to meet him, without them connecting at their hips this time. He refused to stoke her lack of answer any more than he did, returning his kiss to her neck, intent on leaving a mark.

“You on top of me.” She stuttered out, turning her face to meet him, making her intentions clear as her lips crashed on his. He removed the lose layer of modestly from her, pulling her into a lift, not quite ready to relinquish her wants as easily.

He dropped her onto the bed, rumpling the sheets as he kept her in place, he was determined to draw it out as long as he could. Her legs spread she fell, giving him the perfect opportunity to sink his face between her.

He gripped at her thighs, inhaling the scent of her before starting his devouring. The tip of his tongue toyed with the bud that brought her such release before, sensitive at his previous actions he looked up at her, a carnal lust hiding his need to see her entirely undone. He turned his head back down to start his ministrations fully, removing any form of delay by lapping at her folds, dining on her, trying his best not to overstate his intentions.

Her moans were restrained, trying her best to keep some decorum between them and their hosts. To her credit, it was a valiant attempt, her only true misgiving being his need to hear her, he slowed his course in response, taking his time with spoiling her, every new, untouched place, the taste of his seed mixed with her arousal, the heat of her on him, was enough to drive him mad, he could live there, worship at the apex of her. The Gods should be envious of him.

In almost a direct return her cries grew strained, low and deep, louder than they had been. He refused to add any part of him into her just yet, wanting the accomplishment to be on his mouth alone. When she began to pant almost, grind against his face, he knew he had her where he wanted, and so he pulled away.

Her reaction to his denial was splendid. She tried to get him to stay, her moans almost clawing him back to her need yet he held his resolve to know better, to make her feel better. Lusty boys and ladies alike from what little he knew would not have taught her. He wanted a first from her as much as he wanted her.

Daemon stood up, dropping his robe near her and revealed his nakedness to them both before climbing along side her, kissing her hair as she descended as much as he wanted before he joined her.

“That was cruel.” She said against him, head to his chest, her hips still bucked as though he was there, he was happy to oblige as he turned her on her back, his length hitting her brown thigh. He kissed her and pulled away, repeating as he saw fit too, letting her indulge in her own taste, before aligning himself with her center. He unhurriedly entered her, taking the time to get her accustomed to him.

It was a new feeling, they way she tightened around him, her body and need all surrounding him, he felt light headed at the thought of it, thinking about the actions he had undertook, the liberties he had given in to. As soon has his hilt had reached her pulled out, pushing himself into her hurriedly, gaining and unfiltered and rather loud moan from his companion

He continued his rhythm, until she settled into it, them changed his pattern by lifting one of her legs, folding it as he continued to fill her anytime she grew too accustomed. His hands and body found its own worship of her, bathing in her moans, bracing for her peak as he felt his own build. It was so much of her, all of her at his welcome. He lost any pace by the end, slamming into her as though he were a green boy, welcoming her wetness and convulsions at his intuitions.

He felt it build and build until he joined her cries of passion. She was not as relishing, putting her hand on his throat, stopping his reach and making him erupt with his seed spilling into her. He dropped his weight rather unwillingly on her in the end. She followed suit as she relented, giving into waves of pleasure, riding it out until she felt herself content at her state, as loud as she had been.

It was bliss as his mind connected with his body in the aftermath, her legs wrapped around him, refusing his departure from her. He traced circles on her, in the silent epilogue of it, she fell asleep after, unmoving from her place, she simply descended into that oblivion. His hand circled her naked thigh, not entirely comprehending what had occurred, simply knowing it was her. He knew he should carry her to her own bed, put a robe on her newly, sweat drench embody but he couldn’t help himself at the need to fall asleep alongside her, as they were.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (22/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 7312

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: To prevent Daemon from contesting their marriage, Aemond and Arianwyn proceed with the Bedding Ceremony.

Warnings: Adult content, minors DNI.

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thelittleswanao3 @trap-house-homiecide @50svibes @literishdegree99 @dc-marvel-girl96 @henriettadreaming @multiple-fandoms-girl @gyuxmilk @somemydayy @kittykylax

Author's Note: This is my first time writing smut, so be gentle with me!

The Bedding

“With this kiss, I pledge my love.”

Aemond had dreamed of saying those words to Arianwyn for nearly six years, though he had desired her kiss for even longer.

Her sparkling silver eyes fluttered closed as he brought his hands up to cup her face, careful not to aggravate the purple bruises forming along her soft jawline. She was the very image of the Maiden – pure, innocent, and celestially beautiful.

He thought that with all the fairy tales they had read together, he would know what true love’s kiss would feel like. It was the kiss shared between the hero and his lady love as they left danger far behind. The kiss that broke curses and conquered evil. The kiss that began a happy ending.

This was all that and more.

Arianwyn’s lips were deliciously soft and thrillingly cool, sending a shiver down Aemond’s spine. He felt, more than heard, a slight sound leave her as he pressed further into her, the tip of his nose digging into her flushed cheeks. Her mouth opened slightly, her arms lacing around his neck and into his hair as she pushed forward, kissing him back.

Aemond would have gladly spent the rest of his days beneath the weirwood tree with his mouth on hers, his hands on her face, and her fingers in his hair. But they were not the only ones present in the Godswood, he had to remind himself as he pulled away from her sweet lips.

She leaned toward him as he withdrew, enthralled by the heat he had poured into her with his kiss. The sounds of scattered applause from their sparse audience seemed distant as all she could hear was her ragged breath and pounding heart.

When the clapping faded, Aemond turned to Septon Eustace. “What do we do now?” he asked.

There was no feast prepared, no wedding gifts to receive or toasts to hear. All that remained…

“The bedding ceremony,” Maester Orwyle answered, though he could not bring himself to look at the new couple. He had practically raised them. The idea that it was now his duty to ensure a consummation was uncomfortable, to say the least. “If you should wish it, my Prince – and Princess.”

Suddenly consumed by timidness, Aemond looked anywhere but at his new wife. He cleared his throat before speaking. “It has been a trying day for all of us. I think it best – ”

“Yes,” Arianwyn interjected – her first act of disobedience against her husband. “We want… the ceremony.”

Aemond looked down at her. She was nervous, that much was clear from the way her chest heaved and her hands shook. “Aria,” he whispered, “We don’t have to… if you don’t want to, that is.”

What was he doing? Had he not imagined taking her to his bed for years? Why was he fighting this?

But the answer was simple: because he loved her, and he would never force anything on her that she did not want.

Arianwyn placed a hand on his chest, and he had to take a deep, steadying breath to keep himself from kissing her again. “We do have to, Aemond. If the marriage is consummated, it will make it harder for my father to fight against it.”

She did not say that her fingers were tingling with the desire to touch his warm skin nor that her lips ached for his. Not here, before so many others. Instead, she let silence hang over the Godswood as Aemond stared reverently at her.

“Whose rooms shall we go to?” she asked when he did not object.

“If you’ll forgive my intrusion,” Ser Criston said as he stepped forward, “I believe the Prince’s apartments in the Holdfast will be more secure come the morning.”

While he hated that their protection was a concern on their wedding night, Aemond had to agree.

“Well,” Brynna said with a clap. “As I am the only woman present, it seems as though you’re coming with me, Prince Aemond.”

The memory of his terrified expression at that moment would bring Arianwyn laughter for years to come. As would the stiff way he moved in response to the poking and prodding he received from the boisterous lady’s maid as she herded him out of the Godswood.

As the stifled chuckling from the assembled guards faded, Eustace yawned. “It would seem that my responsibilities have concluded,” he said. “If you will excuse me, I will now happily return to my bed, my Lady – ah, apologies! My Princess.”

The old Septon did not wait for a reply before he strode from the Godswood, leaving Arianwyn alone at the base of the Heart Tree, save for a dozen guards, Ser Criston Cole, and Grand Maester Orwyle – not quite the procession she imagined for her bedding ceremony.

She had always expected that Aegon would be the one leading her to her husband’s chambers, laughing through his usual drunken haze as he watched an assortment of equally intoxicated young lords tear her clothing from her body. Never once did she picture being led to her marriage bed by two men who had taken vows of celibacy and twelve knights, most of whom had been protecting her for the majority of her life.

Though as she considered the alternative, she decided that this was far more appealing.

Indeed, Ser Criston’s touch was gentle as he offered her his arm to lead her from the Godswood. “I hope you will forgive us if we do not behave in the… traditional manner,” he said, actively avoiding meeting her eyes.

“There is nothing to forgive,” Arianwyn replied, wrapping her arm around his, grateful for the stability he provided. “At least not from me. Though I do believe Aegon will be inconsolably jealous that you took his rightful place as my escort.”

Cole, Orwyle, and all the Runestone guards chuckled quietly at her words, the joyful sound echoing off the stone as they entered Maegor’s Holdfast.

“I doubt Prince Aegon would have ever had the chance,” Orwyle mused. “I am only aware of him mentioning it once, and Prince Aemond hit him so hard in return that I had to place several stitches in his brow.”

Another round of laughter went through the party, and none tried to stifle it this time. After all, the bedding ceremony was supposed to be a time of joy and excitement; why shouldn’t they laugh?

“As I understand it,” Arianwyn said, turning back to face the knights who had guarded her for so long, “You are meant to make lewd jokes and tell risqué tales of your own conquests, to prepare me for what I will face once we reach our destination. Or are you all as cloistered as these men of vows?”

She pushed into Ser Criston, his face flushing, and grinned mischievously at Orwyle, who only raised his brows suggestively.

“Our pickings have been slim as of late, my Lady,” the youngest of her guards, Ser Trevor Wren, replied.

Another man from Runestone, Ser Adrew Dutton, smacked the side of Trevor’s helmet. “She is not just our ‘Lady’ anymore, you dimwit. She is our Princess!”

The young knight, hardly older than Arianwyn, blushed beneath his helmet. “Apologies, my Princess,” he muttered.

Arianwyn smiled back at him. “Don’t apologize, Trevor. It will take me some time to get used to as well.”

“Thank you, my Princess,” he said with a smile in his deep brown eyes.

“I doubt Wren has any tales to tell, Princess,” Ser Colren Shett chuckled. “By the time he got to Dragonstone, what few fair women there were knew to avoid bronze armor all too well!”

Several of the knights joined his laughter, surprising Arianwyn. “I had no idea my sworn protectors were so notorious!” she giggled.

Ser Warren Crayne, the eldest among them and commander of her household guard, sighed heavily. “Only the least respectable among us, Princess. Give me time, and I’ll find worthy wives to settle them.”

The words did not sit right with Arianwyn, especially not on the night of her wedding. “Is that the purpose of a wife?” she asked. “To settle an unruly man?”

“Of course not!” he responded, stuttering as soon as he realized he had upset her. “Though, in my experience, it can certainly help. When a man loves a woman, he has not only reason to fight, but to survive and return home. A married man will therefore carry himself with more dignity and honor than a bachelor.”

“That was surprisingly romantic, Ser Warren,” Arianwyn sighed. Her desperate desire to return home to King’s Landing – to Aemond – had prevented her from doing anything to upset her father for the years she was confined to Dragonstone. Though she was often tempted to contradict him or spit insults back at her stepbrothers, she could never risk extending her confinement.

Remembering the long years they spent apart darkened her mood, and the procession again fell into silence as they walked through the empty stone halls. How would things have been different had they not been so cruelly separated?

A thousand different scenarios raced through her mind.

By now, they could have already been married in a ceremony that befitted their stations. They could already have a child, and perhaps another on the way. They would be living peacefully at Runestone, away from the chaos of court and the reach of her father’s influence.

Or they could have drifted away from each other. It was likely that they both would have been betrothed to a different stranger as part of their family’s diplomatic machinations. They would be hundreds, perhaps thousands of miles apart, once again relying on nothing but letters to sustain them.

The road that had led them here, to this night, had been long and not particularly kind to either of them. But so long as it ended with them together, Arianwyn could not bring herself to regret any of it.

A smile had just returned to her face when she realized they had come to a stop – at Aemond’s door. She could barely make out the runes he had carved into the wood, as they seemed worn down over the years, as though he had touched them every time he entered his apartments.

She tightened her grip on Ser Criston’s arm. “I believe you were supposed to have me completely undressed by now.”

Cole smirked, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “Prince Aemond shall simply have to do the honors himself.”

The thought of Aemond’s long, nimble fingers unlacing her dress sent Arianwyn’s stomach churning. Then, as she struggled to control her breathing, she looked into Ser Criston’s dark eyes. “Have you ever… loved a woman before?”

It was a silly question. He had been only a young man when he was chosen as a member of the Kingsguard and taken a vow of chastity. Which made his answer all the more surprising.

“Once,” he whispered, ducking his head in either sadness or shame. “It did not end well. At least, not for me.”

“I’m sorry,” Arianwyn said. Ser Criston was a handsome man who had always been kind to her. She could not imagine that any woman would reject his love.

“It will not be that way for you, Aria,” he said as he lifted his head, looking down on Arianwyn with such a look of pride that she was taken aback. He had never used the diminutive form of her name before. He had always been resolute in maintaining that boundary between himself and the royal family. But he had been there all her life, and next to the King, he was the closest she could come to having a true, caring father.

“Aemond loves you,” he spoke as though preaching a sermon, delivering a message that Arianwyn needed to hear. “He loves you so very much. All he has thought about for the last six years was how to bring you home. I have not a single doubt that he will treat you with all the devotion and respect that you deserve.”

She knew he spoke the truth, and it brought a warmth to her heart she had not felt in many years. “Thank you, Ser,” she said, “for everything you have done for me. And for Aemond. I never had the chance to tell you, but he fought very well on Driftmark. From what you saw, I know that it may not have seemed so, but I think you would have been very proud of him, even then.”

“He put himself in danger to protect you when you could not defend yourself,” he tried to maintain his serious demeanor, but he could not help but beam as he replied. “That is all he ever need do to make me proud. But I thank you, nevertheless.”

Ser Warren cleared his throat, “I believe the Prince is waiting for his bride.”

Oh. Of course.

Arianwyn released Ser Criston’s arm. Her entire body was tingling with excitement and fear as he reached around her to remove the white cloak from her shoulders.

“There,” he said. “Now I have undressed you, and fulfilled my duty.”

But she was far too anxious to respond to his quip as he reached forward to open the door.

Aemond was not in his solar, though Brynna was. She sat on his plush couch before the roaring fire, the Prince’s leather jacket in her hands.

When the maid saw Arianwyn staring at the garment, she stood and handed it, neatly folded, to her mistress. “It was all I could get off him before he threatened me.”

“Oh, Brynna, I’m so sorry! You must know he would never – ”

“I know, darling,” Brynna laughed, kissing Arianwyn’s forehead. “But I also know better than to rile a man on his wedding night.”

Orwyle glanced around the room, “And where is the groom?”

Brynna stepped away from Arianwyn, taking both the Maester’s and Ser Criston’s arms as she led them out of the apartments. “He is in his bedchamber. Do not worry. I am sure the Princess can find her way. But, for now, we shall leave them be. You can ensure the consummation in the morning, Grand Maester…”

Her voice faded as the door shut, and she shooed most of the procession away. Though by the faint sounds of clanking armor, at least four guards were posted at the door.

Arianwyn was alone in her husband’s chambers.

Though she supposed they were now also her chambers – or rather, theirs.

Not quite ready to enter the bedchamber, Arianwyn hugged the leather jacket closer to her chest. It was still warm. Aemond was always so warm, even in the cold of winter. She had fond memories of pressing into his side while they read in the library, far from any hearths or stoves. Perhaps now, she would never have to feel so cold again.

She was turning over the leather absentmindedly when she saw a scrap of periwinkle silk. Hastily, she unfolded the jacket until she found what she was searching for and let the dark leather fall to the floor.

From a pocket sewn into the breast of the coat, she had pulled out a small square of heavily embroidered silk. The black, silver, and bronze thread had not frayed but had lost its stiffness over the years. Now, each of the Runes was as soft and pliable as the silk it was sewn to.

For all these years, Aemond had kept it. Arianwyn had only ever intended it as instructions for the lapidarist at Runestone, for both the color of the stone and the engravings on each facet. But Ser Gerold had delivered the cloth along with the jewel, and Aemond had saved it.

Not only that, but he kept it with him, close to his heart.

The thought had her feet carrying her to the bedchamber door before she knew she was moving. With the silk still in hand, she raised her fist to the dark wood and knocked twice.

There was a long moment of silence before she heard Aemond’s voice.

“Aria? Is that you?”

“Yes.”

His brow was furrowed when he emerged, though he was relieved to see Arianwyn was still fully clothed. He, too, was fully dressed save for his jacket, his white cotton shirt untucked and hanging loosely around his lean form. “Why did you knock?” he asked.

“I…” Arianwyn looked down, suddenly embarrassed. “I thought it the right thing to do when approaching one’s bedchamber.”

Aemond only smiled. “It is very courteous of you, but I think we are well past such formalities… wife.”

Her eyes met his, a giddy grin on her lips. “I don’t know which title feels stranger, ‘wife’ or ‘Princess.’”

Aemond took her hand and led her slowly into the bedchamber. “If you prefer, I will keep calling you simply ‘Aria.’”

“I would like that very much,” she replied, looking around the room.

It was different than she remembered, the decoration sparser. All that hung on the stone walls was a simple mirror directly beside the eastern window. Only candelabras and a few plain ceramic dishes were on the tables and drawers.

But there was no lack of books. Six massive shelves were placed against the walls, each bursting with hundreds of tomes. What could not fit on a shelf had been neatly stacked on the floor, with some piles reaching nearly as high as the torches bolted to the wall.

When she had thoroughly inspected every corner and had nothing else to distract her, Arianwyn looked back at her husband.

Aemond stood only inches from her, his breath nearly as heavy as hers. He clenched and unclenched his fists, at once desperate to touch her and terrified by how she would react. She had kissed him back in the Godswood, but did that mean she really wanted him?

Carefully, he stepped closer, until their chests were just touching. He brought one hand to the side of her face, lifting her chin towards him, and the other to her waist. When she did not flinch or recoil, he leaned down and kissed her.

As fast as he had kissed her, he pulled back, turning away from his wife.

Arianwyn was left breathless, her arms hanging on to the empty air where he had just been, her scrap of silk falling to the floor. Had she displeased him already?

“Aemond?” she asked, afraid to approach as she watched his chest heave with each breath.

He dropped his head. “I am so sorry, Aria.”

“I don’t understand.” She stood in shock as tears began to sting her eyes.

At last, he turned back, his violet eye shining wetly in the firelight. “I am sorry it had to be this way,” he whispered. “You deserve so much better. You deserved a wedding as grand as you are, with more than just your guards in attendance.”

He ran a hand down his chest, refusing to meet her gaze. “You deserve … to do this with a man you truly love.”

Her heart nearly cleaved in two. Didn’t he know? Had he not felt it in her kiss?

“Aemond,” she breathed, daring to bring herself closer to him. He stood unnaturally still, even as she brought her hand to his face, cradling his sharp jaw and tenderly running her thumb along the end of his scar. “I love you.”

His eye flashed to hers, wide with shock and brimming with hope.

“I love you so much,” she continued, tears finally spilling over, “that I don’t even have the words to express it. I love you, and I think I have for a very, very long time.”

Without reply, he kissed her again. Harder, deeper, and more earnestly than he had before. He poured all of his love into that kiss, along with all of the desperation with which he had longed for her.

When he had to pull back to catch his breath, one hand tangled in her hair while his other arm held her to his chest, he smiled ardently against her lips. “I have loved you from the moment I learned the meaning of the word,” he sighed.

It was Arianwyn who kissed him then. Her heart was full to bursting, and the only thing she could think to do was kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him.

But more was expected of them than that.

Reluctantly, Arianwyn pulled away, instantly missing his warmth. She had to press her hands on his chest to prevent him from catching her lips again. When he finally relented, a questioning look in his eye, she gave him a confident smile to mask her nerves.

“Tell me what to do,” she said.

Aemond sighed, stroking her cheek. “I told you, I will never command you.”

She put her hand over his, turning her head to place a kiss on his palm. “I am not asking for your command,” she replied, her voice teasingly soft. “I am asking what you want.”

Gods, she was the most tempting creature in the world. He wanted her so much it hurt. He wanted to press his lips to every inch of her skin, to kiss her so deeply that her taste would never leave his lips. He wanted to claim her, body and soul, until not even the gods could separate them. He wanted to hear her tell him that she loved him. Again, and again, and again.

But before that, he had one simple request.

“I want to see you,” he said, “all of you.”

Arianwyn smiled and turned around. She lifted her tangled curls over her shoulder, giving him access to the ties of her dress.

Just the sight of her bare neck was intoxicating, and Aemond could not resist nuzzling into her as he slowly began to unlace the silver ribbon. She leaned further and further into him with every tantalizingly gentle brush of his fingers. By the time the dress finally fell to the floor, her head was resting on his shoulder as she pushed her nose into his neck.

Though she still wore her silk chemise, Aemond thought he would lose himself at the sight of her peaked nipples and the swell of her breasts through the thin white fabric. He wrapped an arm around her waist, resting his hand against her belly while the other came up to cup one of her breasts.

Arianwyn sighed at the feeling, at the sheer intimacy of the contact, even through her chemise. No one had ever touched her like that before, and the sense of closeness was overwhelming. She whined when Aemond removed his hand to slip the thin straps of the garment off her shoulder, and the silk puddled on the floor beneath her.

Then Aemond stepped in front of her and, after a long moment staring hungrily at her naked form, dropped to his knees.

He wrapped his hands around her thigh, nimbly unbuckling her garter. Even as he rolled the stocking from her leg and moved to the other, he never looked anywhere but into her eyes, letting her see how fervently he desired her.

Once he had rid her of the last of her underclothes, he pressed a chaste kiss to the sensitive skin just beneath her navel. Arianwyn moaned helplessly as pleasure surged to her core, and she felt an unfamiliar but exquisite heat pooling between her legs.

Before the sound had finished leaving her lips, Aemond rose to capture her mouth with his own. He hooked his hands around her head and neck and kissed her passionately, possessively, unyieldingly. All Arianwyn could do was hang onto his neck and try to answer his passion with her own.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses. “Only the gods themselves could have crafted something so divine as you.”

She blushed at his praise, running her fingers through his silken hair and hooking her thumb into the strap of his eyepatch. “May I return the favor?”

Aemond dropped his eye and wrapped his hand around her wrist, “Are you sure you want to see?”

“I was there when it was lost,” she replied. “I did not run from you then, and I will not run from you now.”

He laughed, “You may not have run, but you did faint, as I recall.”

“That was only because of the blood!” she shrieked as he chuckled mischievously and began tickling her bare waist. “It’s not still bleeding, is it?”

The thought seemed to genuinely unsettle her, but Aemond shook his head and let his laughter fade. “Not for many years.”

“Then I want to see!” she said, returning her hand to the eyepatch. “Don’t I deserve to see my gift?”

“Of course you do,” he finally relented, dipping his head to make it easier for her to slip the leather off his head and expose the scar.

Though he was still fully clothed, no one had seen him without his patch for many years, and he felt entirely naked.

But true to her word, Arianwyn did not recoil or react at all to the gruesome sight.

To her, it was not gruesome. Tragic, yes, to mar such a beautiful face with something so brutal. But it was not gruesome.

It was beautiful.

The scar was deep, its color dark and tinged with red. It ran from close to his hairline, through his brow and eye, to the base of his cheek, but an inch above his jaw. Unfortunately, the cut had not been clean, so the mark was jagged and wavered across his skin. But the Driftmark Maester and Orwyle had done well to ensure that it healed properly.

His eye had not fared so well. The skin surrounding the sapphire was grey and wrinkled, so heavily scarred that it did not move when his other eye fluttered closed. As Arianwyn looked closer, she could see where a portion of his lower eyelid had been completely torn out, leaving a ‘v’ in the curve of the eye. The upper eyelid seemed to have been removed entirely, the delicate skin wounded beyond repair by Luke’s knife.

Still, the sapphire sparkled brilliantly, and nothing could ever detract from his ethereal beauty.

For Arianwyn, it was not only a reminder of one of the darkest days of her life, but a testament to Aemond’s unparalleled bravery and strength.

She ran a finger down his jaw, coaxing his good eye open. “It’s not quite the right color,” she whispered coyly, “but it is beautiful nonetheless.”

Aemond looked at her, brows pinched in disbelief. His eye was pleading, do not lie to me.

“I mean it,” she said, desperate for him to believe her. “You are gorgeous, Aemond. So painfully gorgeous that I cannot stand it.”

Arianwyn kissed him again, slipping her hands beneath his loose shirt and running her cool fingers up the hard muscles of his chest. If she still desired him after seeing his scar uncovered, her sweet words must be true, Aemond reasoned as he fiercely returned the kiss.

His hips instinctively rolled forward as he raised his arms to let her slide his shirt off. If he was not already achingly hard and straining against his trousers, the blissful chill of her touch on his skin would have brought him there instantly.

She had seen men bare-chested before – on the docks of Dragonstone, in the training yard, or in the streets of the city – but she had never seen any man as glorious as Aemond. He was thin, but every inch of him was taut with hardened muscle – the body of a warrior.

Curiously, she ran her fingers back down his chest, exploring each rise and crevice until she found herself gripping the waist of his pants. She hesitated with her hands over the laces.

“Go on,” Aemond encouraged, laying gentle kisses on her temple.

She tilted her head up to look into his eye – his eyes, as she began to untie his pants. She let herself stare longingly into not only his lovely purple iris, but into the scar-rimmed sapphire as well. Every part of him was beautiful, and she needed him to know it.

At last, his trousers slumped over his hips. Arianwyn froze, her hands hovering over him. She had absolutely no idea what to do next.

Fortunately, Aemond did. Though this was already infinitely better than his visit to the Street of Silk on his thirteenth birthday, he was grateful that the – admittedly traumatizing – night had left him with the knowledge he needed for this night. He bent down to remove his trousers himself, relieving his innocent wife of the responsibility and stood fully naked before her.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at the hard length of him. While she was innocent, as proper Ladies are expected to be, she understood the general concept of sex. What she did not understand was how he was supposed to fit that inside of her.

Tentatively, Arianwyn wrapped her fingers around his impressive length and ran a curious thumb across one of the large veins crossing the surface. Aemond sucked in a harsh breath, nearly doubling over as he closed his eye and buried his face in her hair.

At his visceral reaction, Arianwyn swiftly recoiled her hand and pulled away from him. “Did that hurt?” she asked with genuine concern.

Aemond only laughed, pulling her chin up to take her in another slow, passionate kiss. “No, my love,” he whispered as he pulled away. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Though he wanted her to take him in her hands again, an even more tantalizing prospect entered his mind. He bent down, wrapping his arms around her thighs and lifting her.

“Let me show you.”

He carried her to the bed, reaching down to throw aside the blankets and furs atop it. Arianwyn felt a thrill in her core when she realized how strong he was, that he could hold her aloft with only one arm.

Playfully, he tossed her onto the bed, lustily admiring how her breasts moved as she bounced on the mattress. He had grand plans for those, but for now, he was on a mission. He climbed onto the bed, straddling Arianwyn on his hands and knees.

Gods, it was so hard to keep himself from her mouth. He caught her in another kiss, savoring the heat of her swollen lips and the blissful feel of her tongue against his.

“You were going to show me something?” She asked as she pulled away to take a breath.

“Hmm,” he moaned as he moved his mouth to her collarbone. “Yes, I believe I was.”

Aemond leaned on his left side, still suckling at her skin as he traced his long fingers down her chest, between the mounds of her breasts and past her navel.

His touch was so light, so tauntingly slow. Arianwyn felt heat pool between her legs as her hips instinctively rose, begging his fingers lower and lower.

He happily complied. Pride surged in his chest as he felt the wetness of her folds. She was so eager for him as he was for her. His cock twitched as he imagined how it would feel sliding into her.

Not yet, he reminded himself.

Instead, he ran two fingers against her entrance as his thumb rose to her clit.

He knew he had found it when she let out a desperate whimper, her legs squirming and toes clenching as she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck.

“That,” he said into her hot ear, “is what it feels like.”

She whined against his throat, “Do it again?”

“Gladly.”

He began to grind his thumb in slow circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves as he ran his fingers up and down her slick folds. The gasps and moans escaping her lips were sweeter than he had ever imagined, and he captured each and every one with a kiss.

Arianwyn was entirely lost in the bliss of his touch. The feel of his hand on her breast was nothing compared to this. It felt as though there was nothing in the world but Aemond, his fingers, and this feeling of inescapable pleasure.

But Aemond was only beginning. Once his fingers were thoroughly soaked in her juices, he began to press the tip of his index finger into her entrance.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her ear, “but this may hurt a little. Just try to relax, and I promise it will start to feel good.”

She had absolutely no clue what he meant. Not until the pressure began to eclipse her pleasure. This couldn’t be right. That can’t be how this was supposed to feel. Gods, if that was just his finger, what would it feel like when he put his cock in her?

Aemond’s heart clenched as he listened to her whines of pleasure fade swiftly into whimpers of pain. He froze his fingers and laid kisses to her temple, pressing harder on her clit to try and drown out the discomfort. “I know, I know it hurts,” he said, “but it will hurt more if I try to enter you before you are ready.”

“You said it would feel good,” she cried, “when will it start to feel good?”

“Soon, Aria,” he kissed her through his reassurance. “But you have to relax. Just focus on what feels good. Focus on this,” he stroked her clit once for emphasis. “If it hurts too much, tell me, and I will stop.”

She nodded into his neck, signaling him to begin again. He went slower this time, making sure to move only when she was ready. Though her eyes squeezed shut every time he pushed deeper in, she never asked him to stop or pull out.

When he was deep enough, Aemond curled his finger forward within her, searching for the pressure point he knew would be there.

“Aemond!” she shouted, digging her nails into the back of his neck. Whatever he had just done had her seeing stars.

He chuckled at her reaction, pushing against that spot again. At least Aegon had taught him something from all his bawdy tales.

“I told you,” he teased, kissing the sensitive skin behind her ears.

“Am I ready now?” she asked, her apprehension completely vanished.

How had she ever doubted him? He had always tried so hard to please her. That much was clear from the gifts he had given her over the years. He would not fail her now.

“Not quite, my love,” he whispered. “Give it time.”

Aemond kissed her again, gently, savoring every moment. But where his lips were slow, his hand was not. He began to pump his finger in and out of her, brushing that magical spot within her each time, and never neglecting her swollen clit.

Her tantalizing moans of pleasure returned, growing louder and louder until not even his kiss could keep her quiet. Finally, he pulled himself from her lips, reveling in the sight of her in the throes of pleasure and the sounds that escaped her.

When he was sure Arianwyn was feeling only pleasure and no pain, he slipped another finger inside her. Her walls clenched, and he could imagine how blissful she would feel around his cock. But he was determined to wait until she was ready, not wanting her first time to be as painful a memory as his.

He continued to finger her, applying pressure both inside and out as she raised her hips higher and higher, arching her back into his sheets. With every passing moment, she was sure it could not feel better. But with every passing moment, it did.

The pleasure grew and grew, until all she could see was the sparkling of Aemond’s sapphire eye, and her entire body pulsed with an overwhelming wave of bliss. Every muscle in her body relaxed as relief washed over her, and she laced her fingers through his silver hair to pull him in for a kiss.

“What was that?” she asked breathlessly.

He finally withdrew his soaked fingers and pulled her against his chest. “Release,” he whispered.

“Does it mean I’m ready?”

Aemond smiled against her lips, “Perhaps, but I would like to be sure.”

With that, he lowered his lips to kiss down the column of her throat, ever so gently across her cuts and bruises. He continued down her chest, between her breasts, and across the plane of her stomach until he reached her core.

What he had said was true. Only the gods could have crafted something so divine. He had planned to tease her until she was begging for his tongue, but he had not the patience for that. He needed to taste her.

And taste her he did, hungrily, greedily diving between her legs. Her cries resumed, her hands burying into his hair so deeply that she snapped the thin leather strap holding his hair from his face.

The long silver strands fell in a curtain around his shoulders, but he did not slow. Rather, his pace quickened as he plunged his tongue into her, valiantly reaching for the spot he knew would undo her as he suckled on her slick folds. He knew he could not reach it with only his tongue, but by the gods, he would try.

Arianwyn felt simply sublime. She could feel her heart beating in her core, her racing blood carrying heat throughout her entire body. Aemond was a fine warrior and scholar, and by all accounts, a truly gifted dragonrider, but as he ravenously drank the pleasure from her, she was sure that this was the reason the gods created him.

It was not long before she felt that great wave of pleasure, the ‘release’ as Aemond had called it, approaching again. With her hands still entangled in his hair, she clenched her fists and cried out, “Aemond!”

But then he pulled away, leaving Arianwyn feeling cold and empty, hanging over the edge of her release.

Aemond glanced up at her through a lidded eye and gave her a wicked grin. Then he dove back down, wrapping his lips around her clit, and sucked.

Arianwyn thought her vision would never return as the world went white and release swept through her once more, more intensely than before. She did not know how long she lay there, arms splayed and chest heaving as she recovered from the extraordinary feeling.

When the world reformed around her, it was Aemond’s grinning face she saw first as he lay on his side next to her, smiling blissfully and tracing shapes around her breasts with his pinky.

“Now, am I ready?” she asked.

Aemond hoped so, for he certainly was. He had never been so hard in all his life. “I believe you are, my love.”

He rolled on top of her, propping himself up on his elbows as he kissed her and ground his hips against hers, savoring the slick friction. All night, he had been so singularly focused on her pleasure that he had neglected his own, and he would gladly do so again.

Once Arianwyn was moaning against him and writhing her hips to try and draw him closer, deeper, he gave her one last kiss before he pulled away. He reached down to line himself up with her entrance but never looked away from her shining silver eyes.

“Say it again,” he breathed.

She cupped his face, fingers trembling against his skin. “Say what?”

“Say you love me.”

Her face softened, though her grip on his jaw was tight. “I love you, Aemond Targaryen.”

And he slid in, pushing past her maidenhead in one eager stroke, sheathing himself to the hilt in the tightness of her velvet folds.

She cried out once, pressing her forehead against his as her mind swam with equal pleasure and pain. The feeling was all-consuming. But as he stilled, she could whisper only one thing, over and over and over again:

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He loved her so much. His body cried for him to move, to fuck her with abandon and fill her with his seed. But he held himself still, knowing that he had gone too far too fast. Her eyes were still shut tight, and her whispering grew quieter.

“It’s alright,” he said as he burrowed into her neck, grounding himself in her smell of smoke and cold sea air. “Relax, Aria, just like before. I won’t do anything else until you tell me to.”

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding him close as she continued to whisper, slipping into High Valyrian. “Avy jorrāelan.”

They stayed like that for long moments, even after her whispering had faded into silence.

“Aria,” Aemond moaned against her throat as his self-restraint waned.

A curious whine was all she could muster as she adjusted to the sensation of him filling her.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” he whispered, caressing her face, “but I need to move.”

Indeed, he trembled with the effort it took to remain still. He did not want to hurt her or cause her any more discomfort than he already had, but he could only restrain himself for so long. He could – and had – practiced in the training yard for hours without needing even a moment to catch his breath.

But this?

He did not have the strength for this.

Still, he did not move until she nodded against him. Even then, he began slowly, rocking his hips ever so slightly to ease her into the feeling.

Much to his delight, she let her head fall to the bed and began to cry out again – with pleasure, not pain. “Avy jorrāelan.”

“Avy jorrāelan,” he whispered back, letting his thrusts go deeper, longer, faster. In mere moments, he was losing himself in the sensation of her tight walls surrounding him, more wonderful than he had ever let himself imagine.

Arianwyn, too, was lost in the feeling of his great length slamming into her over and over, faster and faster. She was sure that they were crafted by the gods specifically for each other, for this, for their joining perfectly as one.

As his pace heightened, Aemond again caught her lips in her own, claiming her just as much with his mouth as he did with his cock. The pain was completely gone, replaced only with pleasure as he stretched her magnificently with each thrust, brushing against that magical spot inside her and sending stars bounding through her vision.

“Avy jorrāelan,” she murmured again as he began to rut into her wildly, drawing moan after moan of pleasure as the pressure in her core built higher and higher. She was not going to last much longer before her release.

But neither was Aemond. Not when he had been dreaming of this for so long. He groaned into her mouth as he felt his hips twitching out of his control, “Aria!”

Desperate for her to cum with him, he brought his hand between them, furiously working her clit until he felt her walls clamp down around him. Only then did he let himself lose control, burying himself entirely within her as he spilled his seed.

Arianwyn felt absolute euphoria. Muscles she didn’t know she had tensed and relaxed as her third release of the night swept over her. Not since her first flight on Emrys had she experienced such bliss so deep in her soul, nor such exhaustion.

He was still inside her, panting heavily as he came down from his high, lazily planting open-mouth kisses to the base of her neck.

“Aemond,” she whined, pulling on his hair to draw his gaze back to hers. His violet eye was hazy with contentment, and the sapphire fogged by the heat of their joining.

“Mmm?”

“Do it again?”

Next Chapter

[aishangotome]

Elbert Greetia: Mad Love Chapter 21

Chapter 20

♡———♡

Victor: So far, you’ve kept the secret well.

Victor: If you keep this up, I can offer you the option to return to your normal life.

Victor: Tell me what you want to do when the promised day comes.

-

After finishing the conversation with Victor and the others, Elbert embraced me as soon as I returned to my room from the lounge.

Elbert: ...I'm sorry.

(Huh...?)

His sorrowful voice whispered in my ear, causing my heart to stir.

I quietly raised my eyes to meet his troubled gaze.

Kate: Why are you apologizing?

Elbert: ..............

After a moment of silence, his pale lips hesitantly parted.

Elbert: Because I can no longer... keep you away from sin.

Elbert: I intended to set you free after the promised month was over.

Elbert: But now, I can't bear the thought of you leaving my side.

(Keep me away from sin...)

A memory of when we first met surfaced in my mind.

*flashback*

Elbert: If you hadn't been taken to that place... you wouldn't have had to see those things.

Elbert: You're different from us. ...You shouldn't have come here.

Elbert: ...Sin doesn't suit you.

*flashback over*

That was right after I accompanied Crown on a mission for the first time and saw human blood.

Even then, Elbert was certainly worried about me.

(I'm sure he intended to return me to my normal life when the time came.)

(Before, I was happy and relieved by his kindness, but...)

Now, his arms pleading for me not to leave are precious to me.

Wanting to change his pained expression, I smiled and placed my hand on Elbert's chest.

Kate: The reason you don't want to let me go, Lord Elbert...

Kate: It's not to atone for your sins anymore, is it?

Elbert: ...No.

Elbert: It's... because I want to be happy with you.

Elbert: I want to be happy together... I want to be by your side.

His voice, containing not a shred of hesitation, seeps warmly into my heart.

Kate: Then... there's no need to apologize. I'm happy.

(I can't go back to my old life without Elbert.)

There are important things in my old life, but right now, he, who is in front of me, has become more important than anything else.

Kate: I also have no intention of choosing to return to my everyday life.

Elbert: Kate...

The strength in his arms as he hugs me tightens.

As if to soothe my anxieties, as if to share his happiness, strongly and gently--

Elbert: ...Tonight, don't go back to your room.

Kate: Mmm...

Making up for what words cannot express with kisses, we fall onto the bed beside us.

I lie down on top of Elbert, my cheek against his chest, and hear the steady beating of his heart.

Elbert: Not just tonight... tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, too.

Elbert: I want you to sleep next to me... I want you to wake up next to me.

Kate: ...I want that too.

Kate: But, it's probably best to get Victor's permission.

Elbert: ...Don't say another man's name in this bed.

Kate: Eh, mmm...!

While saying something like a disobedient child, Elbert sits up.

Before I can be surprised by the reversal of our positions, the kiss deepens even further.

(...Ah, that wasn't my intention at all.)

The expression on his face as he furrows his brow in a sulky way is cute and endearing, but his not-at-all-cute kiss makes my breath hitch.

Kate: Mmm... Haa... Ah, even with what we were talking about, is it not okay...?

Elbert: ...No matter how it is, it's not okay.

(No way...)

His lips, still in a pout, express his dissatisfaction directly.

Kate: Hehe...

Elbert: ...? ...Was it funny?

Kate: No, I'm happy.

Elbert: Happy...?

It's cruel to say I'm happy to have made him jealous, but I'm happy and feel blessed that he desires me solely to satisfy his own heart.

Kate: The fact that you get jealous, and that you take it out on me,

Kate: I'm happy about all of it.

Elbert: ...All of it?

Kate: Yes.

Elbert: I see... then,

He gently brushes away the hair from my neck and places a sweet kiss there.

Elbert: ...If I said I wanted to bite here, would you forgive me...?

Kate: ...ah...

He kissed my neck, begging for me. Over and over again.

Realizing he was waiting for me to give him an answer-- I nodded.

Elbert: Mmm...

Kate: Ah--

Elbert's perfectly aligned teeth sink into my skin with a soft sound.

Along with a dull, spreading pain, it also sprouted a perverse pleasure within my body.

Kate: Ah, Lord Elbert...

Then, Elbert sweetly bit and kissed all over my body.

The relentless repetition felt like an act to suppress an even more intense urge.

-

A few days later, a follow-up report came in on the "Bernal Trading Company."

It seems that a public investigation into the company and its customers had finally begun, thanks to William's conviction of a politician who had been pressuring the police, a name that was on the customer list.

Crown's duties had begun to calm down considerably compared to a few days ago.

(Let's make sure to record everything until the end.)

Elbert: ...Kate, aren't you tired? You've been at the typewriter all day.

Kate: I'm fine. You never know what might happen, so I have to write while it's calm.

I continue typing on the typewriter in the corner of Elbert's room.

Lately, Elbert has also been spreading out several documents and seems to be considering something.

Kate: Lord Elbert, please don't push yourself too hard.

Elbert: Ah... thank you.

After admiring his profile for a moment as he looks back down at the documents, I return to the typewriter.

Elbert had somehow gotten Victor's permission, and everything that was in my room had been moved to Elbert's room.

(Victor came to me and gave me a final confirmation, but is it really okay?)

(The option to refuse... didn't even cross my mind.)

(When I was locked up in this room before, I was so sad,)

(But now... I'm happy that this room has become my place.)

Eventually, when I reached a stopping point in recording the report, Elbert also stopped his paperwork and made tea for us.

Elbert: This is sudden, but... I'll be away from the castle for a few days starting tomorrow.

Kate: A few days? Where are you going?

Elbert: ...It's a secret.

(A secret...)

I felt a slight shadow pass over him as he muttered those words.

Kate: May I ask why it's a secret...?

Elbert: ...If I told you, you'd worry.

Elbert: You'd probably say you'll come with me, but I don't want to take you.

His serious words gave me a strange sense of déjà vu.

(When Elbert tries to distance me like this, it's...)

(When something sad is about to happen.)

Kate: If I hear that, I'll want to come with you.

Elbert: I'm sorry. ...I wanted to avoid leaving you without saying anything.

Elbert: ...You stay here.

Elbert: In return for not being able to give you a life free of guilt...

Elbert: I want to keep you as far away as possible from the sight that will make you sad.

Elbert: So that you can keep smiling.

Kate: Lord Elbert...

He won't tell me the reason, only that he cares for me deeply.

But there is no doubt that this is also Lord Elbert's true feelings.

(For Lord Elbert, happiness may be as fleeting as a dream)

(That's why he's trying so desperately to protect me)

Kate: Please be careful.

Kate: And... please come back safely.

Elbert: Yes... of course.

I feel the warmth of his love from the smile he gives me.

If I can protect his heart by being enveloped in that love, there was no other choice but to accept it.

-

At dinner that day, Lord Elbert informed Crown of his coming absence.

Victor: In that case... we'll need to have someone else from Crown accompany Kate.

Elbert: ..........

Kate: ...! Right... I see.

I'm still a "Fairytale Keeper" for only one month.

I am under the surveillance of Crown to see if I am trustworthy enough not to leak information.

Victor: If everyone is away from the castle, we may have her accompany someone on a mission...

Victor: I'll try to adjust the missions so that doesn't happen as much as possible.

Kate: Thank you.

Victor: If you want to go somewhere, could you ask someone at the castle?

Kate: Yes, I understand.

Elbert: .............

(Lord Elbert?)

When I glanced to my side, Lord Elbert was silent, his eyes downcast as if in deep thought.

-

Kate: ...Are you worried?

When I spoke to his face, which was tinged with sadness, Lord Elbert reacted with a start.

Elbert: ...I'm sorry. ...Was it that obvious?

He furrowed his brow in distress as he turned to me.

Kate: No. But you seemed more down than usual.

As we sat on the bed, Lord Elbert embraced me as if to reassure himself.

Elbert: ...I'm worried that you might be in danger while I'm away.

It hasn't been that long since I was kidnapped by Jeffrey.

Lord Elbert himself had just been in danger.

I knew how he felt about worrying about me.

Elbert: And... someone from Crown accompanying you...

Kate: It's alright. If I end up accompanying another Crown member on a mission, I'll be very careful.

Kate: So please don't worry.

Elbert: ...That's not it.

Lord Elbert sighed as if to vent his worries.

Elbert: It was me who decided to leave you... It's silly, but...

Elbert: I hate that I won't be able to protect you by your side.

Elbert: I want to be the one to protect you.

Kate: ....!

The direct possessiveness sweetly tickled my heart.

(Oh my... I'm a little happy about this.)

(Even though Elbert is suffering...)

I tightened my lips to suppress a grin and twisted my body in his arms to look up at him.

Elbert: I wish I had two bodies...

Elbert: Then I could protect you, both near and far.

Kate: Hehe... Then I'd be troubled, not knowing which one to kiss.

Elbert: ...Indeed, the other me and I might end up killing each other.

We laughed at the joke that wasn't quite a joke, and shared a light kiss.

Elbert's worries seemed to have finally cleared up a little.

We embraced each other and slowly lay down on the bed.

As if to etch into each other the warmth we would be parting with tomorrow, we remained in each other's arms.

Elbert: While we're apart... I hope no one else would be reflected in your eyes.

Kate: ...Hehe, that would be quite difficult.

Kate: Should I... wear a blindfold...?

Elbert: ...That would be nice too.

We exchanged such unreal words as we drifted off to sleep--almost together, we reached the brink of slumber.

-

--I was in a dream again.

Kate slept like the dead in my arms, her face so beautiful it shook my heart, and I gently stole her lips.

(I finally have her.)

You will never see anyone else in your eyes, nor will you remember a warm place and leave.

(If only we could melt and blend into one.)

Will this thirst ever be quenched--?

-

Elbert: ...!

I opened my eyes as if I had been ejected from the depths of a terrible dream.

Elbert: Ha... Ha...

I repeated shallow breaths and hurriedly looked at Kate sleeping next to me.

I gently put my ear to her chest, and when I confirmed that she was breathing, I let out a sigh of relief.

The aftertaste of the cruel dream still gnawed at my chest.

Elbert: Why did I have such a dream...?

Elbert: ...Kate.

Elbert: ...I'm sorry.

With a feeling much like repentance, I kissed her sleeping lips.

They were warm, soft--and I was terribly thirsty.

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Mad Love Chapter 22

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[pocketsizedquasar-3]

this is more of a spitballing question: how do you think a jonah-type character and an ahab-type character would interact? in the sense that jonah was running from God and it followed him in the form of a whale, and ahab was looking for a whale who is also God?

HIIII i got this ask when i was still incapable (?) of receiving asks (i saw the notification but couldn't open it) which was a SHAME because it's a VERY FUN GOOD QUESTION AND I WAS VERY EXCITED TO ANSWER so anyways!

first: ahab in the book is already deliberately posited as a jonah inversion / antithesis / opposite figure. in the Sermon chapter early in the book, ishmael and queequeg attend a church in New Bedford and watch this Father Mapple give a sermon about Jonah. and the Entire Point of this chapter is to serve as Foreshadowing and Framing and Setup and etc etc for the narrative to come. (this is part of why it makes me sad when MD adaptations eliminate the onland chapters, because while I understand the need to save space/time and the desire to get to the action as soon as possible, those chapters exist for a reason!! and it is to set up and frame and foreshadow the story in a way that we aren't really able to when we get to sea!)

But yeah, the Sermon is basically all about Jonah and how Jonah disobeys God, tries in vain to run away from him, dooms the entire crew of the ship he is on in the process, and is only saved when he accepts his punishment. It's one of my favorite chapters in the book and I definitely recommend giving it a close read if you're ever interested! For sake of comic space, I had to condense it down into the most direct & salient bits, but I'll otherwise let Mapple speak for himself here:

ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵉˣᶜᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᶦˢ ⁵ ʸᵉᵃʳ ᵒˡᵈ ᵃʳᵗ

now obviously mapple doesn't directly mention ahab or anything in his sermon; the benefit of visual medium is i can put ahab very explicitly right there when i want him to be <3 but there's a lot of imagery and language that comes up in the sermon that then repeatedly comes up later in reference to ahab -- jonah's swinging lantern becomes the swinging lantern in ahab's cabin (also drawn here), which shows up at several points; jonah "sleeps his hideous sleep" and later so does ahab, so too is his sleep haunted and tumultuous; and then obviously there's the parallel story you mention involving whales and God and all that.

jonah and ahab disobey God; they affront God; even with their sin of disobedience they further flout at God by seeking to flee from him: jonah and ahab think that a ship made by men will carry them somehwere God does not reign, but only the Captains of this earth (see, later, the multiple times ahab states that there is no God on the Pequod, only him; that he cares for no lords or shipowners or Gods; that there is one Lord of the earth but there is one God of the Pequod and that is him). jonah and ahab disobey god; they sin; they think that they can flee from him; they doom their crews in the process.

but in the sermon, and in the story of jonah, jonah is saved. jonah recants:

“In all his cringing attitudes, the God-fugitive is now too plainly known. The sailors mark him; more and more certain grow their suspicions of him, and at last, fully to test the truth, by referring the whole matter to high Heaven, they fall to casting lots, to see for whose cause this great tempest was upon them. The lot is Jonah’s; that discovered, then how furiously they mob him with their questions. ‘What is thine occupation? Whence comest thou? Thy country? What people? But mark now, my shipmates, the behavior of poor Jonah. The eager mariners but ask him who he is, and where from; whereas, they not only receive an answer to those questions, but likewise another answer to a question not put by them, but the unsolicited answer is forced from Jonah by the hard hand of God that is upon him. “‘I am a Hebrew,’ he cries—and then—‘I fear the Lord the God of Heaven who hath made the sea and the dry land!’ Fear him, O Jonah? Aye, well mightest thou fear the Lord God then! Straightway, he now goes on to make a full confession; whereupon the mariners became more and more appalled, but still are pitiful. For when Jonah, not yet supplicating God for mercy, since he but too well knew the darkness of his deserts,—when wretched Jonah cries out to them to take him and cast him forth into the sea, for he knew that for his sake this great tempest was upon them; they mercifully turn from him, and seek by other means to save the ship. But all in vain; the indignant gale howls louder; then, with one hand raised invokingly to God, with the other they not unreluctantly lay hold of Jonah.

jonah recants; he says he Does fear God. he allows himself to be dropped into the sea, which calms the storm and saves the crew, and when in the belly of the whale, he prays to that God: not for deliverance, because he "feels that his dreadful punishment is just...Here, shipmates, is true and faithful repentance; not clamorous for pardon, but grateful for punishment."

so jonah is saved. jonah recants and obeys and trembles like the proper obedient God-fearing servant he is, and so jonah is spared.

and ahab is not.

ahab does not recant. ahab does not obey. ahab does not fear God. (though in the end, he goes from believing his vengeance quest is defying God to believing that his vengeance quest is God's will, and that he has no power/control of his own, which is its whole other thing that makes me Ow). ahab is not good, pious, obedient, God-fearing, repentant. to the last, he grapples with God. for hate's sake he spits his last breath at God.

SO to get back to your Actual question that you asked and not this long tangent that you didn't ask for, how do I think a jonah-type character and an ahab-type character would interact? they both have the similarities mentioned above: disobeying and then hubristically flouting at God, believing they can either escape (jonah) or best (ahab) God. but also as you said, they're also opposites in an important way: Jonah is fleeing God, and Ahab is chasing it. Ahab likely would see himself as a more active participant in his own story, more willing to directly confront and defy God:

That’s more than ye, ye great gods, ever were. I laugh and hoot at ye, ye cricket-players, ye pugilists, ye deaf Burkes and blinded Bendigoes! I will not say as schoolboys do to bullies—Take some one of your own size; don’t pommel me! No, ye’ve knocked me down, and I am up again; but ye have run and hidden. Come forth from behind your cotton bags! I have no long gun to reach ye. Come, Ahab’s compliments to ye; come and see if ye can swerve me. Swerve me? ye cannot swerve me, else ye swerve yourselves!

Ahab does not flee the Gods that threaten to destroy him; he challenges them directly, head on, just as he faces Moby Dick directly, head on.

and Ahab does not care to repent. Ahab does not care that he's offended God. even in the end when he believes himself to be bound to God, bound by fate, devoid of all free will, it is not with obedience, it is not with acquiescence; he is not grateful for punishment; he is still just as enraged with God, just as furious with the God that he sees as having violently damned him. I think he would be quite angry with a character/figure who would apologize, would submit to the God that damned him. He would see that as an unacceptable (and even shameful) defeat, I think.

And we do know already how he responds to characters who beseech him to heed that God. Starbuck is no Jonah figure, but I can't imagine Ahab's response to one would be much different:

Ahab seized a loaded musket from the rack (forming part of most South-Sea-men’s cabin furniture), and pointing it towards Starbuck, exclaimed: “There is one God that is Lord over the earth, and one Captain that is lord over the Pequod.—On deck!”

[fandomworld9728]

The King & Queen of Hell Chapter 1:

Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates, known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil. Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation, but he was seen as a troublemaker by the Elders of Heaven, for they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. So, he watched as the angels began to expand the universe in their ways.

From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith. Equals of the first of mankind, but despite this, Lilith demanded control and Adam refused to submit to her wills. Lilith fled the garden, determined to make her own way without him.

Drawn in by Adam's love of the garden and his never-ending curiosity, Lucifer found him and the two fell in love. The Elders disliked this new development and made Adam a new bride, Eve. What they didn't expect, however, was for her to bond with Lucifer over their shared love of the first man. Soon, the couple was blessed with two children. Cain and Abel.

The boys thrived in the garden with the guidance of their fathers and Eve. The little family spending many happy days together. Soon, a daughter was born, taking on a more angelic appearance then that of her brothers. Watching the family from beyond the garden, Lilith grew envious and resentful. That could have been her. Should have been her. And so, she sent off to shatter that happiness.

She grew close to Lucifer and over time had convince him to give into his desire and share the magic of Free Will with humanity. Tricking him into giving Eve the Fruit of Knowledge, who gladly accepted. Lucifer's gift to the woman he grew to love and care for came with a curse. With this simple act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin was created, and the order Heaven had worked to maintain was shattered.

As punishment for his reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer into the dark pit he created, never allowing him to see the good that came from humanity. Only the cruel and the wicked. He wasn't alone though, for Adam had fell with him, not wanting to ever be separated from his love. But not before Heaven stole away their baby girl and left their sons alone on Earth.

They were fortunate to still have those who cared for them enough to look after their children. Eve took care of the two boys as if they were her own sons and Lucifer's brothers and sisters raised their daughter away from the eyes of the Elders. Never once allowing anyone to disrespect their parents and taint their view of them.

Ashamed of what he had done, Lucifer lost his will to dream. But Adam thrived, empowering not only demon kind, but his partner too. Slowly, he pulled Lucifer from his depression, and they made Hell into something livable. Something all their own. As the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power. Threatened by this, Heaven made a truly heartless decision.

That every year, they would send down an army. An extermination to ensure Hell and its sinners could never rise against them. This action, however, had a grave consequence. Adam and Lucifer would not stand by and watch their people being slaughtered. They fought back as best they could to defend them and were eventually joined by their sons who eagerly joined in the fight against the angels.

Adam and Lucifer's hope remained; their dream was passed down to their youngest daughter, the princess of Hell.

Closing the book, Charlie held the key to it close. This story was always her motivator in times of doubt. She could do this! She'd make her parents proud! "Don't worry you two... I'll make you proud."

"Charlie."

Jumping, she turned to see her girlfriend standing at the door with an amused smile. "Oh, fuck! Uh... how much of that did you hear?"

"Just the end of it. You know, you don't have to push yourself so hard for the King and Queen."

"I know. But this isn't just for them. It's for me. For you. For all of Hell! I can't just sit by anymore while they're out fighting for us." It's one of the things Charlie hated about being the youngest in her family. Everyone was always shielding her from what they considered dangerous. 

Though, while she wasn't old enough to join the fight (nor did she have the stomach to kill someone) she was grateful that they taught her what to do when the time would come for her to defend herself and the things and people she cared about.

"I know just-" Sighing, Vaggie couldn't bear to see the woman she loved push herself so hard. "Don't work yourself ragged, okay?"

"No promises~ You know what I'm like when I'm in the zone." Standing, Charlie fixed her hair in the mirror. Maybe she should wear it down like how she reminded her parents telling her Eve used to. Though, it would probably get in the way while she was working. Oh! Maybe she should cut it! Get it short like how most of her family wore their hair.

The splashes of brown in her mostly blonde hair caused her to pause. Charlie looked almost like an exact copy of her parent. The only thing that showed her resemblance to her father were those few dark strands. She wished she had more of his features. Like his eye color. Or a darker complexion to her skin. Or-

"Charlie. Sweetie. We've talked about this. You look fine the way you are."

"Yes, yes, I know Vaggie. I just... can't help it sometimes." Trying to distract herself from those thoughts, she grabbed her appointment book and headed downstairs arm and arm with her partner. "I have a busy day today. Will you be okay to keep an eye on the hotel for me?"

"Of course, babe. You know I got your back. Are you sure you don't want me to come with? Alastor can protect the place just fine."

"I don't want you mixed up in all of this." Not yet anyways. Vaggie still didn't know that she was heir to the throne of Hell. No one seemed to. Which is odd seeing as she looks just like the queen. She'd tell her eventually. Soon! But until then, she wanted to keep Vaggie out of their messy affairs. "I just have a meeting with Cain and Abel this morning. Then after lunch I'll head to the Embassy to meet with Lilith."

"Wait. The King and Queen are sending you to meet with the leader of the Exterminations?"

"Everyone else is busy. Plus, it's a great way for me to pitch the hotel to Heaven."

"I'd feel better if you had someone going with you... Lilith is a real bitch. Or so I've heard."

She was right. Charlie had met Lilith once before this. Her being a real bitch was an understatement. "Okay, then I can see if one of the twins would be willing to come with me. But, again, everyone is busy. So, I doubt they'd be able to."

"Let me-"

"Vaggie. Please. I'll be okay."

"Perhaps I should accompany our dear Charolette."

Alastor. The fallen angel didn't like the guy on a good day. However, anyone would be better than Charlie going alone. "What do you think?"

"I... guess it couldn't hurt? I mean, Alastor is an Overlord."

"Delightful!"

Next >

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Sweet Nightmares: Chapter Two

Sweet Nightmares: When not even Nightmare Dream can chase you off from visiting his realm whenever you wished, he decides to show his eldritch side. In other words: Dream doesn’t understand why you have such free rein within his realm and tries to scare you off. Jokes on him, you’re into it.

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Content (Unprotected Sex is a No No), Power Play, Wonky Eldritch/Nightmare Sex, Cosmic Tentacles (No, I Will Not Elaborate), Bondage, A BJ Morpheus will Propose Over ;D, It turns Sweet at the End, HALF-EDITED.

To Note: Eldritch!Dream x AFAB!Reader, Mostly Dream at his Wit’s End with Reader, Part of the ’Sweet Nightmares’ Event by @roguelov.

Word Count: ~5.1k

Previous | Masterlist

Elongated limbs painted with galaxies held your body in a tightened grasp that was just short of painful. The Endless had pressed his lips to yours to silence your impudent remarks, only to find your frustrating mouth tasted bewitchingly delicious and for his appetite to want more. So his kiss intended to shut you up, turned into one that had Morpheus fiendishly devouring your soft lips.

He wasn’t being delicate about. Neither was he being nice. He just took. Lips pushed at yours, making you gasp. The moment your mouth parted with that beautiful sound Morpheus nipped at your lower lip with his teeth. You squirmed and bucked against him, feeling both the momentary sharp burst of pain and the seductively pleasurable lick of his tongue soothing your inflamed flesh. He consumed the slow drawl of your proceeding moan, relishing the control he had over such a sweet sound. Relishing the complete control he had over your entire vexatious being.

That little sting in your lip was long forgotten when Morpheus kissed you deeper, demanding tongue finding yours and making a point to show you that he was in control. His tongue was savage against yours, pushing and pulling with each kiss until you couldn’t even entertain a thought of your own, only react to his wants. Your chest felt tight and you gasped in between the fleeting moments his lips gave yours to suck in gulps of air.

The fierce need to put you in your place didn’t wane, but Morpheus was slowly being consumed by another urge. An urge to consume you, to remind you who the Endless was within this realm, to teach your disobedient mind that you weren’t in control… pushed and pushed until he growled into your electrified lips. One of your wrists was released and a large hand buried itself in your hair, sharply pulling your head back until you let out a squawk in protest.

“Morpheus,” You complained, wincing slightly from the awkward stretch. His face remained over yours, eyes bright with unadulterated cosmic energy.

“What must I do to cease your chattering,” He hissed at you. You stared at him with a blank expression, feeling so much in the moment that your mind was, for once, empty. He was so worked up about you talking… that he kissed you? Not that you were complaining, he was inhumanely beautiful in every form you saw… It was really unfair. The Endless growled again, angry to find your flushed face and swollen  lips even more desirable. “Every night you invade my thoughts until I can think of nothing else. Do I not have other duties to attend to? Why are you always there!?”

“That sounds like a you problem,” You bravely whispered, not able to hold back your tongue. “What do you want me to do about that?” Oh you really shouldn’t have said that, because now the Endless was thinking all the ways he could shut you up. Your body trembled when you felt a ripple of power burn from the seething Endless pinning you in place.

“Should I make use of that mouth of yours you continually run?” He snarled at you. Well if that meant you got to kiss him again you weren’t opposed… You blinked at him, a cheeky smile now on your lips.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” His eye twitched, for truly nothing he did stopped your mouth from running. Your world spun once more, the tight grasp upon your hair and wrist disappearing. Your knees and palms hit some sort of floor and you let out a heavy breath.Slumping back on your shins, you looked around trying to find some sort of recognizable landmark in the Dreaming. There was nothing to be seen, just a plane of something, covered by a layer of smokey mist.

Those cosmic fingers of Morpheus appeared one more, grabbing you by the jaw and forcing you to look up at the seething being. Even distorted like this, you were still blown away by the sheer beauty of him. Wispy stardust skin, elongated limbs, monstrous eyes that glowed with the heart of stars, the air visibly shimmered around him. So you gawked at him, feeling breathless where you kneeled. Morpheus stared down at you, holding your jaw tightly so you had to maintain eye contact with him. Your eyes were wide and your lips, your lips were red and swollen from his punishing kisses.

“A promise,” He confirmed, eyes glowing down at you in a threatening manner. “You cannot abstain from running your mouth? Very well, I shall put it to use. Pleasure me with it.” You nearly blanched. First he was acting like you were the bane of his existence, and now he was telling you to suck his dick? Now that actually managed to render you speechless! The Endless raised a provocative eyebrow, noting your sudden inability to speak. “Oh? Now you have fallen silent?”

That provocation made a rush of annoyance flood through your body. You wanted retaliation for that statement and were more than happy to give payback to this ethereal being. Who wouldn’t want a chance to adore something so beautiful? So with your eyes glimmering in challenge and locked with Morpheus’, you rose up onto your knees and sank your nails into the dark material of his jeans. Your nails scraped over the material as your fingers urgently unraveled the button and dragged the zipper down. With a sharp pull, you had all that sheltered the Endless’ body, displayed to you. That eyebrow arched again and you dropped to your gaze to his cock.

Oh christ on a cracker!

You weren’t exactly a master at sucking someone off, you only had limited experience in sex from your teenage days in the first place! You had minimal experience with clumsy blow jobs and that was with cocks that were half decent in length… Morpheus was just huge. You questioned if you’d even be able to fit him your mouth. But if you could… you could only imagine the sounds he’d make for you! So without any further hesitation, you slipped your hand across Morpheus’ exposed hipbone to take his cock in your grasp.

Giving it a few strokes with your hand, you leaned forwards and leisurely drew your tongue up the length at a more than necessary slow pace. Morpheus was acutely aware of your actions and wound his fingers through your hair, giving the strands a tug in warning. You flicked your tongue across the tip, savoring the taste of pure starlight while the Endless let out a soft groan. You lavished the tip with a plethora of kisses, licks and sucks, working up the courage to try and take Morpheus’ cock in your mouth.

Fuck it, you might as well just dive right in.

With a pounding heart, you parted your lips and took his cock into your mouth. The moment you pushed forwards, taking more and more of his cock into your mouth and throat, you began gagging. Your eyes watered from the sheer girth but the delicious sound that departed Morpheus’ lips was by far the sweetest sound you had ever heard. You wanted to hear that again. So you forced your throat to relax and began bobbing your head. The result was so beautiful and satisfying.

Morpheus’ gasp within your hair pushed your head, making his cock slide deeper into your throat. You choked and gagged further but the sounds he was making! You had never heard him sound anything other than irate or strict, who knew he could sound just as beautiful as he looked. Hands digging into his jeans, you pulled him closer to you, sucking harder and not helping the soft moan of happiness that sounded deep within your throat. The Endless’ eyes glowed pure white and he was soon stroking your jaw and neck with his other hand.

“You are magnificent,” He husked, caressing your throat with spindle fingers that felt the bulge each and every time his cock slid down your throat. The moan you made from his soft praise and gentle caresses vibrated down your throat. That only heightened the pleasure Morpheus was feeling. Tendrils of stardust and cosmos emerged, they snaked around your body to caress the softness and curves they found. A shiver went up your spine from the cosmic touches and you whimpered this time, back arching when one wiggled its way beneath your shirt to caress the skin of your chest. “So it is possible for your bedeviled mouth to give me something other than ire.”

You wanted to make him pay for that backhand insult, but couldn’t find the thought to do so when fingers caressed your neck and pushed your mouth to thrust his cock further down your throat. The proceeding sound that came from deep within your throat was a bittersweet mixture of annoyance and reluctant acceptance. You’d much rather have him like this than chasing after you in angered grievance.

Morpheus’ cock swelled further and you choked, only this time you struggled to breathe around the throbbing appendage. While you began to feel a soreness in your jaw, the cosmic tendrils wrapped around your body pulsated in increasing tandem. That had to mean something, right? Clearly it did for Morpheus was ever so close to finding release from the mouth that caused him so much ire. When had he last felt pleasure like this? His fingers dug back into your scalp, soft words spilling from his lips in a language you didn’t understand. In what felt like a grand crescendo, you felt the Endless jerk his hips forwards in a rough staccato, forcing his cock to the very back of your throat. Then he stiffened shortly before the ground trembled beneath you and crackles of energy exploded around you in violent shockwaves.

Rather than be jarred by the sudden explosion of stimulus to your environment, you were entirely consumed by the feeling of Morpheus coming down your throat. His hot seed was an explosion of celestial taste that made your cheeks flush terribly while you swallowed everything he gave you. Heaven forbid you wasted even a single drop. Feeling lightheaded from lack of adequate oxygen intake, your legs trembled beneath you for a moment before folding. As Morpheus’ cock slid from your throat and mouth, you slumped to the side with a cough. Sweet Neptune that was intense. You could feel an electric buzz rattling in your own body while you gasped, slowly catching your breath once more.

When you no longer were heaving for oxygen, you blinked and licked your lips eyeing the Endless. He appeared to be shifting between forms. Still quite locked in the pleasure you had pulled so effortlessly and devotedly from him. A sly grin appeared on your lips as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“You should shut me up more often,” You commented, watching in amazement as his form materialized back to a solid state. Ah, his wonky yet beautiful form. You liked the way his skin swirled with stardust, his beauty monstrous and unique. While you were appreciate Morpheus’ form once more, he was collecting himself from an experience that had changed his entire viewpoint over you. You were a wiley creature that he now wanted carnally. But oh how wrong you were to think that this punishment was over. He was only just getting started, certainly when he could show you all that he could offer should you just listen to him. He crouched down in front of you, those disembodied cosmic tendrils reaching to caress your face and neck once more. They traced your lips, coated with him, and with a little flick you shivered from the little burst of pleasure their touch caused. Silver shifted to blue and that air of superiority was back within the depths of his eyes, but there were also flames of desire you could see and that made your thighs clench and cunt throb.

“You presume that I am finished,” Morpheus slowly drew out, his eyes now eye level with you. He reached up with his hand and pressed his thumb against your quivering lower lip. “I can most assure you, I am not,” You didn’t even have time to blink as cosmic darkness surged at you in a cloud. Your vision went black and you cried out in startlement as your arms and legs were grabbed and the ground beneath your folded legs disappeared. Tumbling around, you yanked on whatever was holding you in place in a panic, wondering if you were going to go splat on wherever he was taking you this time.

Eyes flickering several times, you finally stopped feeling that topsy turvy feeling to see that you were floating in a sea of stars and nebulas. Their lights glimmered and glowed, echoing a spacial beauty that left you feeling speechless. You were floating among stars! You went to reach out and brush your fingers through a cloud of stardust, but found that your fingers were held back by those cosmic tendrils that had come from Morpheus earlier.

“Hey!” You complained, squirming around and feeling all of your limbs hindered and held in place. “This isn’t fair, you can’t look like that and not allow me to touch!”

“You have demanded my attention for countless hours, little dreamer?” The Endless’ disembodied voice questioned shortly before his wonky Nightmarish form appeared over you. He too was floating among the stars, but unlike you, he could move freely. So unfair. “I shall give it to you with endless devotion until you beg for mercy.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your skull.

“Fat chance!” You huffed at him. “I don’t beg.” Amusement danced within his swirling cosmic gaze. “Just let me touch!” You complained, yanking on your wrists for added measure.

“No,” His answer was simple, but the weight it carried was heavy. Outright refusal. You whined and kicked your leg out when you felt a gentle touch wind around your ankle and snake up your calf. “And you shall remain until you beg.”

“You can’t make me,” Your stubbornness was amusing and the realm around you shimmered in response.

“You will,” Morpheus promised before dissolving your clothes from your body. You shivered as your naked skin was bared and tugged at your restraints once more.

“Usually people ask someone out before they get to the naked stage,” You spoke up, reverting to humor to hide your self consciousness over being naked in front of him. “But I see that we’re skipping that—” You gasped as a phantom touch caressed your inner thigh and stroked up to the inner crease of your hip.

“Beg,” Morpheus’ melodic voice rippled through the air around you. You breathed heavily, eyes starting up at everything and nothing. Cosmos swirled over head and while you couldn’t physically see Morpheus anymore, you certainly felt him. He was everywhere.

“Not happening,” You reiterated, startled by the intense throbbing you felt between your legs but refusing to back down. What would be the fun in that? You could have sworn you felt Morpheus’ lips brushing against your ear.

“Very well,” He purred, lips teased the delicate skin of your neck. You were a glutton for punishment it seemed. He would take pleasure in putting you in your place. A delicious punishment you had most certainly earned. Your eyes were still searching for the Endless when your cosmic chains forced your legs to part and expose your intimate flesh. Heat returned to your cheeks and you squirmed in place, trying to pinch your knees in so you weren’t so on display.

Morpheus’ tendrils didn’t like that. Oh no, they didn’t like that at all… you felt more of that phantom pleasurable touch snake up your legs, winding around your thighs and pulling your legs firmly apart with an unbreakable hold. Your breathing sped up again and you shifted in your hold, wondering how those wonky cosmic tendrils could feel so nice against your skin. You were about to call him out for being a total tease when tendrils snaked their way across your intimate flesh and stroked a distinct line through your folds.

Your back arched instantly and your limbs were caught against your cosmic chains as a strained breath parted your lips. Somehow, someway that touch felt like a hot tongue tracing every inch of your intimate flesh… worse? There were several of those cosmic touches all competing for your attention. Stroking your flesh with conviction and riling up all sorts of pleasure, Morpheus lay out all his wrath for your antics.

He was more than pleased by the sounds you made, struggling and wriggling against his hold. The Endless never imagined that you could look so beautiful and sound so exquisite when all you seemed to do was irk him to no end. Now he just had to get you to know your place.

So he pushed his cosmic being to stroke and tenderly wrap against your flesh, teasing pleasure and feasting on the sounds you made. But he wasn’t just basking in your sounds, he could also taste you and oh how you tasted like the nectar of the gods. Morpheus had thought your lips were nothing short of addicting, your true taste was divine. Cosmic tendrils wrapped around your clit and pulsated, making your back go rigid as lightning pleasure burned up your spine.

Your ties curled and you could even feel your eyes burn. No, you were not going to cry because this egotistic Endless made you feel pleasure like nothing before! He didn’t get to have that satisfaction.You clenched your jaw and whined through another sharp burst of pleasure. Now the trembles in your legs were becoming more pronounced, and Morpheus could no doubt see and feel them.

But you couldn’t help it.

Not with your nerves electrified like live wires. Not with your body unable to wriggle or worm itself away from assaulting pleasure. Another devious lash across your clit and you felt the door holding you back crumble. A strangled crying departed your lips before you twitched and writhed for a few moments, caught off guard by the magnitude of pleasure washing through your body. Then you fell limp, body gently being caught and cradled by the very cosmic tendrils that had caused your violent pleasure in the first place.

Morpheus’ disembodied presence loomed closer and he ran his ghost lips along the tender skin beneath your ear.

“Beg to me,” He called to you in a low and seductive voice. Moaning, your eyes flickered and you shifted to try and evade the sensitivity burning between your thighs. “Beg,”

You snapped yourself out of your post orgasm, chest heaving, and gazed up at the cosmic sky stretched above you.

“Dream on, Dream,” You rasped out with a soft giggle, unable to help yourself with the tease. The clouds of darkness flashed with lighting as Morpheus certainly did not appreciate your cheek. So his touch returned to your body, all that more vindictive and determined. He had you wiggling and squirming around, tugging at your restraints while fighting against the whimpers trying to crawl out of your throat. Again he made pleasure charge through your veins at an unprecedented rate, and again, he told you to beg. You refused and the cycle repeated.

Over and over the Endless commanded pleasure from your body, feasting off the sounds and physical signs of your pleasure and not once giving you a break. But you never once gave in to him. Very well, Morpheus had patience and all the time in the world here. It all depended on whether you submitted to him. But as time passed, your limbs shook more and protested less against the cosmic tendrils holding you captive.

“Beg,”

“Never,” Morpheus didn’t hesitate to dive back into caressing and indulging in your body. You’d break, eventually.

“Beg,”

“Can’t make me…” It was starting to be too much for you to handle but the satisfaction of making an Endless squirm from your refusal kept you going, even if your body was begging you to stop.

“Beg,”

“…No,” You were loosing your voice now, barely able to utter a single word against the repeated assaulting pleasure that had you worn down.

“Beg,”

You didn’t reply this time, shaking and whimpering, drowning in pleasure that your over sensitized body was struggling to acknowledge. Your thighs had long since taken the brunt of your back to back orgasms but there was nothing you could do but bear the mess. Even with your lack of response Morpheus just continued his assault on your body.

Flesh well swollen, your body went taut yet again despite your violently shaking legs, and your aching arms strained to grab at the cosmic tendrils stroking and vibrating around your cunt. Of course the tendrils at your wrists stopped your from doing so, far more powerful and unable to be worn out like you were. Hot tears that had gathered at your eyelashes and streaked down the side of your face, joining the trails of the others that had ran previously.

You never thought it possible to cry from being pleasured so much.

It was frustrating and every inch of your body ached from either pleasure or pain. Worst of all your stomach hurt the most from the repeated clenching of your abdominal walls after the devastatingly powerful orgasms. Caught in the umpteenth time Morpheus drew ecstasy from your body, you finally gave in with a half sob.

“Okay, okay,” You rasped, your voice cracking and fingers twitching. “You win this one, I call mercy.” For a few precious moments you thought that Morpheus would be cruel to you and refuse to do so to make a point for who was in control… but he didn’t.

“One more,” He ordered. “You will give me one more.” A cry of frustration flew from your lips as, somehow, those cosmic tendrils doubled their efforts. Violently shaking all over, you came undone with a final rush of ecstasy. Just for a moment your entire body went ridged as your walls clenched for a final time around nothing. Oxygen caught in your throat and you floundered under stars, falling limb within your cosmic cradle made from the beautiful eldritch monstrosity of Morpheus.

Your head lolled back while you breathed heavily, your eyes closed and mind drifting towards a deeper sleep. You couldn’t feel much of your body, certainly below the waist. Numb to your surroundings, you hardly noticed when the weightless feeling that had held you floating among the cosmos disappeared and your body was settled on a feather soft mattress wrapped in sheets of stardust. A straggly sigh escaped your lips and a soft touch stroked your jaw. You managed to peel your lead like eyelids open. Your gaze was met with the starry ones of Morpheus.

“I am far from finished with you,” He told you, running his fingertips along the curve of your jaw to press his thumb against your lower lip. You’d chewn it raw. With a quick brush of his finger he corrected the damage you had done, returning your lush lips to the pillowy softness they usually taunted him with. Those soft sweet lips trembled as you struggled to reply, all you could manage was a noise in the back of your throat.

The sleek and lithe body of the Dream Lord dropped against yours, and Morpheus nearly shuddered himself when he felt how moist your thighs were. He rutted his body against yours, basking in how his body glided against yours. You softly moaned and Morpheus brushed his lips against your mouth, taking in that delicious sound. Then he kissed you, urging your sweet lips to part and indulging in the tongue that caused him so much ire. How hypocritical that Morpheus found your kisses to be addicting when he couldn’t stand your antics. You sighed into his mouth, not the least bit surprised that his mouth too, tasted of stardust and dreams.

Morpheus’ hands drew down your body, following the winding paths his cosmic tendrils had taken and left behind their intimate touch. It was like a map made just for him, directing him to his destination at your hip. He pulled your thigh up, pressing your bodies together and feeling the heat and moisture still clinging there against his aching cock. It was deliciously satisfying knowing that he was the cause of such a wet, sticky mess.

He didn’t bother teasing you any further, Morpheus just slipped his throbbing cock into your tight and clenching cunt. You felt wonderful, wrapping around him as he all too easily slid into you, no resistance to be felt. Of course not, your body had bloomed just for him. Your lips broke from Morpheus’ as your head fell back against the feathery pillow, proceeded by a sweetened moan that caressed his lips. A pleased smile appeared on his face the moment his hips met yours with wet squelch.

That made your eyes fly open and heat burn beneath the skin of your neck. Holy shit how wet were you down there? You didn’t have a chance to panic or be embarrassed over the sounds produced as Morpheus began to slowly fuck you. All you could do was lie limp and breathe heavier with every stoke of his cock within your clenching walls. His face found the crook of your neck, hands continually following the cosmic path traced upon your skin. You wanted to do something, writhe against the pleasure that built up unfairly fast, claw your nails into his back, do something other than just lie there.

But you couldn’t, held down by exhaustion and the strong embrace of an Endless. The first audible and clear cry you made made his lips sharper. Then his cock easily found a rhythm in which he repeatedly tantalized a spot deep within you that gave you blinding pleasure with every pass. You shuddered again, your legs shifting ever so slightly, wanting to wrap around his body. But they couldn’t. They just lay limp while Morpheus thrust into your body and indulged on the soft catches of your breath every time his cock sank as deep into your tight clenching walls as he could go.

Lightning sizzled up your spine and you could have sworn you saw stars and were floating back in that netherworld, cradled in his eldritch grasp. You half wished you were back in that comforting state, surrounded by the Endless. Cool, boney hips pressed and ground against yours, pelvises slipping together as your prior ecstasy left no friction to be had. Even with heat blistering your body from just below your skin you could feel the coolness of your release. You had made a mess. Correction, brain, Morpheus had made a mess. And he was loving every moment of it.

Even with his face buried in your neck, midnight hair tickling your chin, mouth laying down kiss after kiss upon your untouched flesh… you knew he was smirking deviantly and entirely pleased with himself. More sounds of your bodies crashing together sloppily hit your ears and you let out a whimper, this time managing to jerk an arm up to dig your fingers into his back. The Endless rumbled against the column of your throat and slid his fingers upon your thigh to grasp your hip. He pulled your pelvis impossibly close until he had your engorged clit grinding against his cold skin. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Morpheus,” Your whispered plea was caught between a sigh and a moan, and it drove the Endless insane. Teeth skimmed up your throat and Morpheus’ remaining hand found itself buried in your hair. He pulled your head back and pressed his lips to yours again. Only this time he kissed with passion and sweetness and declaration because you were his now. You melted, easily allowing his searching tongue to draw yours into an intimate dance that made stars dance throughout your body.

You scratched at his sculpted back and responded to his endless kiss with exhausted fervor. Morpheus basked in you love and affection, displaying his ecstasy to all that graced his realm. Dreamers and creations alike were all afflicted by the true magnitude of his pleasure, getting glimpses of your joined bodies and echoes of your pleasured gasps and whimpers. Then his cock just perfectly and pleasure exploded within you.

Morpheus devoured your screams and felt the full force of your walls clenching around his cock in rippling waves. It was enough for him, the Endless allowed his own pleasure to join yours, pumping his seed deep within your body as you violently trembled in place. You fell slack against the sheets gently caressing your skinned breathed heavily against Morpheus’ face nuzzled against yours. Your eyelids sluggishly fluttered and leaned your cheek against Morpheus’ cooler one.

“Am I forgiven?” You croaked out. “Cause I really don’t wanna be banished from the Dreaming. It’s my second home.” Morpheus opened his eyes, still feeling the affects of his being shuddering from delight and expressing it throughout his realm. You wouldn’t be too pleased to learn that your final activities were expressed to all. The Endless wrapped his arms around your body and rolled to the side, holding you within his arms. Your shared releases were still dripping from were you and he were joined, but he’d have you no other place but exactly where you were at the moment.

“You are not banished, beloved,” Morpheus spoke to you in a low timbre. “But every time you decide to misbehave expect to be punished.”

The clench your cunt made was involuntary and you hated that because when you looked up into his face, you could see the smirk on his lips. Fuck. You wanted yell at him to wipe that stupid hot smirk off his face, but instead chose to play along since you were in that position.

“Is that a threat?” Morpheus ran a hand up your side, stroking your flesh and enjoying the way you shivered before rubbing his thumb along your swollen lower lip.

“A promise, little one,” Morpheus replied, nuzzling his nose against yours. You hummed before closing your eyes and letting your body go slack. You were thoroughly drained and your muscles felt so sore. It was time to sleep, but at the same time, Morpheus was still inside you.

“So… are you gonna move?”

“No,” You gaped at his straightforward, one worded answer. He hadn’t even put any thought into it either!

“Okay… but don’t you have, I don’t know, Dream Lord thingy’s to do?”

“I am exactly where I wish to be.” You blinked once. Then twice. So, he wanted to be balls deep in you rather than doing his kingly duties? That made your mind reel, but you weren’t going to get worked up over that. You really did feel exhausted (especially cause the bastard was relentless with his tendril torture) and decided to just snuggle in and close your eyes. He was, after all, a very sweet nightmare.

Date Published: 9/2/23

Last Edit: 9/2/23

Previous | Masterlist

[awkward-tension-art]

Viral Vector Chp.3 (Echo x Reader)

Chapter 2. Chapter 4.

Data

TW: Tarkin being an ass, Omega being cute, Galactic Empire, Swearing, mentions of a fight, reader insert, mentions of medical procedures, Reader is gender neutral, Reader a medical scientist, Echo x Reader, a bit of a slow-burn though

You were in a rush. 

Live rounds. LIVE ROUNDS!? IN A TEST!?

What game was Tarkin playing?

You had been resting, finally closing your eyes to sleep when Echo commed you. They had been tested rather than punished. But that test had turned potentially dangerous when the training droids started using live rounds. 

Wrecker had been hurt, a bolt hitting him square in the shoulder. 

You gathered some bandages and bacta and made your way to the squad's barracks. However, your steps finally slowed. Down the hall was Nala Se, Lama Su and Tarkin, behind the former was Omega. She kept pace, following closely behind them.

You followed, keeping your head down. There was an intense drive to keep that little girl safe. 

And she wouldn't be safe anywhere near Tarkin.

The three of them had turned, entering one of the Cloning wings. Before the doors closed, you slipped inside, pretending to do work. Your datapad was up to your face, and you acted as though you were inspecting some of the developing clones in their tubes. 

“Extraordinary, aren't they?” The Kaminoan scientist spoke, voice flat and calm. 

“That remains to be seen,” Tarkin responded, looking directly at a developing fetus in its tube. He then turned, facing those behind him, “Tell me about Clone Force 99.” His admiral kept his hands behind his back. 

Nala Se answered him, “They are medically defective clones whose cellular mutations enhanced traits desirable in a soldier.”

Your eyes were on Omega, she was technically a clone. How far that mutation went, you didn’t know. So far, the only difference is that she was a little girl. 

But sometimes, when she turned, or spoke, or moved, you saw the cadets in her. When she grew up, she’d be capable, just like them. 

There was a sense of pride in your chest.

Tarkin’s cold eyes went to Omega, “How many of these enhanced clones do you possess?”

Nala Se answered again, “Five are all that remain.”

Now, there was fierce protectiveness in your heart. Stay away from her, you hydro-snake. You thought bitterly. 

Lama Su stepped forward, now deciding to speak, “They could be an asset to your new Empire.”

Tarkin didn’t seem convinced, his stare was now on the Prime Minister, “Yet reports indicate they exhibit a concerning level of disobedience and disregard for orders.”

“A side effect of their mutation.” Nala Se cut in, trying to reason with him. 

Omega looked between the scientist and Admiral. She seemed so out of place among them. 

“Yet one that has never hindered the completion of their missions.” Lama Su stepped forward as he explained. 

“Then they executed Order 66?”

Rig. 

Your lungs tightened. 

“Since both the Jedi General and Padawan on Kaller were eliminated, one would assume.” The Prime Minister seemed nervous. Clearly he was anxious about the idea of Kamino being unneeded by the new Empire. 

“Assume nothing. Only the general's death is confirmed.” Tarkin interrupted him, “A counter-report, filed by one of their own, says the Padawan escaped.” He turned back to the tube containing the growing clone, “Let us see where the loyalty of these clones truly lies.”

Omega looked nervous. And so were you. You had to warn them. Silently, you slipped from the Cloning Facility. Once you were in the hall, you rushed to their barracks. 

“Live rounds? They used live rounds! On us!” 

You heard Wreckers voice through the door. He was angry, clearly. There was a bang, sounding like he slammed his fists on the table.

“We were there, Wrecker. We know.” Tech chimed in.

Echo spoke next, “I tried to warn you about Tarkin.”

Your hand hit the button and it opened, revealing all of them looking worse for wear. 

“Who's that Imperial snake think he is?” Wrecker huffed, pausing when you approached with your bag of medical supplies. 

Crosshair rolled his eyes as you began to check the larger clone over, “Stow it, already. You got shot. It happens all the time.”

“There's a fundamental difference between taking fire in battle and being used for target practice.” Tech interrupted, facing the sniper.

Hunter finally spoke, “Are you alright, Doctor?”

Your eyes must’ve given something away. You shook your head as you secured a bacta patch to Wreckers shoulder, “Something…is wrong. Seriously wrong.” You responded, “Tarkin is trying to do something with all the clones. But I don’t know what.”

“What do you mean?” Echo asked, taking a step closer to you. 

“He wants clone medical files. And now he’s talking about a test of loyalty.” Your words were shaky, “I..I don’t know what's going on.”

Why couldn’t you calm down?! Ever since the clone troopers turned and shot Rig, your body has been on fight or flight. 

The ARC trooper put a careful hand to your back, “Do you think we’re in danger?” 

You nodded, looking at your trembling hands, “I think he’s targeting you all…I don’t know why.” 

Echo moved his hand from your back to hold your hand. His grip was strong, yet kind and reassuring. You looked up, and his pale brown eyes held concern, “That explains the live rounds during the test.” He mumbled.

“Let it go.” Crosshair practically groaned in annoyance. 

“Hey! We aren’t dummy droids.” Wrecker snapped.

“That much we agree on,” Tarkin’s voice caused your heart to drop. 

Echo swiftly let go of your hand and stood at attention like the rest of his squad. 

You scrambled back, staying out of the way. Luckily, the Admiral didn’t seem to pay you any mind. 

“That was quite an impressive display.” Tarkin stated flatly, walking down the small steps into the barracks. 

Hunter watched him carefully, “Didn’t have much choice.” 

“Our new empire may have methods which seem a bit unorthodox, but so does this squadron.” The older man inspected each of the clones, “Both certainly have their merits.” He turned to nod to Hunter before carefully looking over Wrecker, “Nala Se speaks quite highly of her five enhanced clones. She claims you're more capable than an army.”

Understatement. You thought to yourself silently. 

The squad’s leader did well to pick up Tarkin’s intentions, “You have a mission for us, sir?”

“Indeed,” The slimy Admiral turned around to speak to him, “We have tracked a group of insurgents to the Onderon sector. They must be dealt with.”

Echo perked up, “What sort of insurgents?” Already he was mentally preparing for the mission. 

“Separatist forces intent on keeping the galaxy at war.” Tarkin explained bluntly, “If you neutralize this grave threat, you will be looked upon most favorably as I assess the needs of the Imperial Army.” He stated, rather coldly in your opinion. He didn’t even bother to bid the squad farewell before stepping up the stairs and walking out to the hallway. 

Once he was out of sight you visibly deflated. 

“We need to gear up,” Hunter nodded to you, “Try and find out what you can.”

“But keep yourself safe.” Echo chimed in, “We can talk when we get back.” He put his hand on your shoulder in comfort.

You missed how Tech perked up, noticing the ARC troopers change in attitude with you. He remained silent however, not finding the benefit of saying anything.

“Just…be careful,” You looked up at him, “Please…”

“We can handle it.” Hunter put a hand on his hip, “Whatever gets thrown at us.” he motioned for his team to follow. The squad couldn’t waste anymore time. They had to gear up and go on this mission the Admiral wanted. 

You bid them good luck and returned to your clinic. Once you were at your desk, you furrowed your brow. Your gut was telling you this was wrong. 

Everything is so….wrong. 

Tarkin wanted clone health files…

Why? What could he need them for? Assessing the clones' health? Their genetic data? See how useful they could be to this new Empire? What if he found their health lacking? Would the clones be decommissioned? Reconditioned? 

…you refused to give them to him.

Your hand opened a drawer and wrapped around a datachip. You had plenty of them, you were a scientist after all.

There were nearly countless health files on the clone troopers. Beyond millions. You’d need more than just the one chip in your hand. Not to mention the couple years of your own research into anti-aging medicine. 

You got to work. The first set of files you saved was everything involved in your clinic. Those would be the easiest to get afterall. That was your system. They were your patients. Everything was yours.

Next was your research. You’d be damned if Tarkin got his slimy hands on your work. 

Your clinic doors opened, causing you to jump. 

Omega approached, “What…are you doing?” Her brown eyes were on you, wide and curious.

You looked at her. She was so innocent. So naive. But could she feel the danger? The anxiety? 

“I’m saving all the data I can.” You stepped away from your desk, kneeling to her eye level, “I don’t trust Tarkin. I don’t trust Nala Se…So I’m saving all the data I can on these datachips.” Your palm opened, revealing the pieces of pure data and files, “Omega…Go to Clone Force 99…warn them. ask to go with them. Tell them I sent you. Get off of Kamino.”

They’d think you're paranoid. But you couldn’t risk this little girl. Every cell in your body told you there was danger around.

She nodded, “Ok…But what are you going to do?”

“Whatever I can.” You responded, “Now go.” 

Once she was out of your clinic and you were alone, you returned to your desk. There were still some files you needed to save. Halfway through the download, it hit you.

How far were you going to help the clones?

If you stole this data, you’d be arrested.

You weren’t one of them. You treated them, yes. They were your patients. But you were a scientist. You weren’t a member of the GAR. You would always be an outsider to them. 

…Echo never looked at you like an outsider.

Oh…Echo.

You liked him. Cared for him deeply. There was affection for him you didn’t have for the others. A feeling in your heart whenever he looked at you. A certain happiness whenever you saw him smile.

Download complete. 

You paused before grabbing the datachip. 

How far would you be willing to go for Echo?

Your hand wrapped around the chips and you put them in your pocket.

[firstdeerwife]

C.15

Eve

The sun rose for the first time over a pristine and immaculate world, and Eve awakened for the first time.

Her existence began in the Garden of Eden, a paradise filled with wonders and indescribable beauty.

Created from Adam’s rib, Eve was not just a companion for him but an essence of his very life and love.

Her arrival into the world was an act of divine perfection, a blend of grace and purpose.

Eve walked along the garden’s paths, admiring the flora and fauna surrounding her.

Every flower, every tree seemed to be a reflection of the goodness and perfection that Creation had brought forth.

Together with Adam, she explored every corner of that dreamlike Eden, sharing laughter and discoveries, feeling that everything in their existence had deep meaning.

Life in Eden was a dream from which they did not want to awaken, but temptation and disobedience led them to a harsh reality.

The expulsion from Eden marked the beginning of a life filled with challenges and sacrifices.

Adam and Eve built a life together outside the garden, working hard to make their new home a place of peace and stability.

Their early years were difficult, but mutual love and dedication helped them overcome the obstacles.

In time, Eve became a mother, and the birth of Cain and Abel brought joy and hope to her life.

However, tragedies also touched their home, with the loss of Abel and Cain’s wayward path.

Eve felt the weight of these events in her heart, and her overprotection of Seth, her third son, reflected her desire to protect what she still had.

The years passed, and Eve’s life became a dance of love and suffering.

Adam, her constant companion, became a pillar of strength as she dealt with the loss of her sons and the difficulties of their new life.

Although the shadows of the past were always present, the love between them never faded.

The connection they shared was a beacon of hope amidst the storms.

Life in the countryside grew quieter as they aged, but the arrival of old age brought a new kind of challenge.

Adam, over time, began to deteriorate, and Eve watched as the man who had been her rock faded away.

Despite the pain and sadness, Eve stayed by his side, supporting and caring for him with the love and devotion she had always shown.

Finally, the day came when Adam, her lifelong companion, passed away.

Eve was devastated, but her love for him remained a flame that would not extinguish.

Life without Adam was a void that seemed impossible to fill.

Loneliness became a constant presence, but Eve found solace in memories and in the legacy of their shared love.

The days passed, and Eve, though aged and weary, maintained the dignity and grace that had always characterized her.

She sat in the garden, the place where her journey had begun, and reflected on her life.

The memories of her time in Eden, of her children, and of her beloved Adam filled her mind as she prepared for the final chapter of her existence.

Eve looked up at the starry sky and raised her face to the moon, as if seeking a sign of the peace she had longed for.

Her heart was filled with love and gratitude for the life she had lived, despite its sorrows.

Eve’s life had been one of love and sacrifice, a journey that had culminated in a deep understanding of beauty and pain.

Finally, Eve surrendered to eternal sleep, surrounded by the nature that had witnessed her entire life.

Her body rested in peace, and her spirit joined Adam in eternal rest.

The last leaf of the garden had fallen, but the love that had blossomed there would remain an eternal part of the fabric of life.

[athenasgotu]

title: forbidden love. (part 3)

pairings: knight!ellie williams x female!reader

plot: ellie is one of the best knights in the whole kingdom, the first female one as well. you, the perfect princess. your mother has no clue you have a crush on ellie. but, your marriage is assigned. you couldn't get what you wanted.

warnings: eventual smut, little bit of angst, feeling unwanted, homophobia, negative thoughts, swearing, sexual desires

a/n: this chapter does have just like the smallest bit of smut. chapter 4 will most likely have smut. now, i don't usually write smut so bear with me 😭.

minors dni!

part 1 & part 2

MEN DNI❗❗

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

why did blair have to see this? she's going to tell mom for sure.. oh my god. my arrangement? what will happen to ellie? to me? you sigh and let go of ellie.

"blair.." you mumble. blair looks at you and ellie in complete shock. she never expected such disobedience from you. you knew the guidelines, and you broke them? out of all people. blair clutches the top of her gown and walks to you and ellie.

"sister.. you know better." blair looks at you. ellie was embarrassed and rubbed the back of her neck. you looked down feeling ashamed for your actions. you should've never fallen in love with her. why couldn't i just be normal? why does it have to be like this? your thoughts spiraled. you almost were completely distracted that your sister had to nudge your arm.

you jumped a bit, realizing you zoned out. "please.. don't tell anyone." you take your sister's hands and grasp on them tightly, begging her to keep this secret. if anyone knew, you'd be banished. ellie on the other hand.. executed. you couldn't let that happen to her. she was all you had, being forced to leave your home wasn't something you wanted either. why can't things just go back to how they were before? you and ellie, simple childhood friends. playing in the royal garden every once in a while. she'd talk about her training and show you her skills. but even before.. it was never "normal" you loved her, just didn't know it yet. why did you have to be like this?

"i.. i can't promise you-" you immediately cut your sister off. "i could be banished! do you really want that?" you were fed up with blair at this point. did she really want you to be cast away? thrown to the enchanted forest for good?

she lets go of her hands and sighs. "of course not," she turns around and was just about to walk away. right when you think she's done, she continued. "i have to follow the rules and so do you. i don't want you to end up like, him." she walks away, you hear her heels click-clack on the floor. ellie turns to face you, seeing the worry on your face.

"i'm sorry." she says. why was ellie saying sorry? she didn't do anything wrong. this is all your fault. if you didn't fall in love or be into girls.. everything would be normal. you'd be normal. "don't apologize." you say quietly. "you have absolutely nothing to apologize for. this one is on me." you grasp onto your dress and walk off. suddenly, ellie grabs your arm.

"let's go to my room, ok?" she says with a reassuring smile. god, that smile. who could say no to that? being in a room alone with her is probably all you need right now. you nod, letting her guide there.

・❥・

you wore ellie's clothes. her oversized grudge band shirt and a pair of flannel pants. pretty comfy than your dress. you laid down on the bed and she sat next to you. she gently rubbed your thigh. her touch was immaculate. her rough hands on your soft legs. it felt so nice. you feel her hand glide up to your waist, gently squeezing it. you felt a sort of arousal from this. wanting more. knowing ellie, she doesn't back down. she gets more aggressive as time goes on. this was just the beginning. the squeezing gets harder. she leans closer to you. "is this okay?" she whispered right into your ear. her hot breath on your neck. god. you nod. "yes- it is." ellie smirked at your nervousness. it was cute to her. just when was about to put her lips against yours, a sudden knock occurs.

ellie quickly moved away from you and yelled out. "who is it?" your heart was beating loud. please.. don't ruin this moment. "its the queen." fuck. your mom, of course. ellie puts the covers over you and gets out of the bed to open the door. "yes? what do you need, your majesty?" ellie asked. the queen looks down at ellie. "is my daughter in here?" ellie rubs her nose, it was a habit of hers. a cute one at that. "uh, blair?" the queen smiles a little and shakes her head. "don't act inarticulate. y/n, obviously." her big words confuse ellie in a way. ellie's usual language was just swear words. "ah- well, no." ellie smiles nervously. the queen looks away for a moment. "you certain?" she says again. ellie nods. "certain indeed!" ellie clears her throat, trying not to act so "enthusiastic". the queen nods and takes a step back. "very well then. sleep well, knight." the queen walks away and ellie shuts the door.

you uncover yourself and look at ellie. ellie sighs in relief. she walks back into the bed and lays down. she smirked again. that damn smirk. she patted on her legs. "c'mere." she said. you crawled over and go on top of her, ellie held your thighs down so you could straddle on her.

"now, where were we?"

[kakashikxge]

‘Sakura Haruno's senior year takes an unexpected turn when Professor Kakashi Hatake arrives. What begins as admiration quickly evolves into a tension neither can ignore. As boundaries blur, Sakura finds herself caught between what's right and what feels irresistible.’

My newest fic is live! I’ve had this idea for awhile now, it’s a true teacher x student classic. If that’s not your bag, please don’t read!

[islam-defined]

It's all about Arrogance, Pride & Ego

These are few verses from The Glorious Quran, that states the fate of the people who are filled with arrogance and pride. This is from Chapter 7, The Heights, verse 144 to 146 which states that:

"Allah said, “O Moses! [Peace be upon him] I have already elevated you above all others by My messages and speech. So hold firmly to what I have given you of my commandments, and be grateful.”(144) And We wrote to him on the Tablets everything of advice and explanation of all things. So, O Moses, hold it firmly and ask your people to hold on to it firmly upon the best things in it. Surely, I shall show you the house of the rebellious and defiantly disobedient sinners (145) and I will turn away from My signs those who are arrogant upon the earth without right; and if they should see every sign, they will not believe in it. And if they see the way of consciousness and right guidance, they will not adopt it as a way; but if they see the way of error and deviation, they will adopt it as their way. That is because they have denied Our signs, and they were heedless of them" (146)

Arrogance is a very evil disease. Foremost, it makes a man deaf, dumb, blind and rebellious, pushing him towards sin slowly. Secondly, he becomes inefficient to comprehend the signs of Allah, because Allah doesn't guide the rebellious. Even if Allah desires to make him understand about the right path, he will reject it as a matter of morons. But whenever a path full of errors and misguidance appears, they immediately adopt as their way. Allah makes them wander in falsehood because they rejected the signs of Allah and remained heedless of the guidance from Allah (Chapter 7: 144-146)

This is what the Gaza War exposed. It is a sign from Allah where 2 categories of peoples were compared side by side, line to line, as elaborated above in the verse [7:144-146]. It's useless to elaborate HOW, as in this Era of 5G, everyone is well intelligent to understand the differences between Gazans and Israelis, in terms of verse [7:144-146]

Below is the video that elaborates the arrogance of Israel who has become deaf dumb and blind, even, for his own people and their egotistic pride bother not the deaths of their own people.

In the video, they are all Jews who are asking ARROGANT (1) Netanyahu in front of his home" HOW MANY MORE DAYS" (2) In their parliament asking "WHERE AE MY SONS" (3) In Zara" HOW MUCH MORE LIFE OF BABIES & CHILDREN and (4) And finally an Israeli journalist QUESTIONED the arrogant Israeli Government such A QUESTION which you have to see yourself because that is the most important part of the video at last.