#ettore x oc

[flowerandblood]

The Grim Watcher

[ mafia • Ettore x mafia boss's sister • female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, public, unprotected sex, smut, angst, threats of murder & murder, stalking, domination, aggressive behavior, violence, swearing, description of wounds, toxiccc ]

[ description: Ettore has been watching her for a long time and is in no hurry: he wants her to feel his breath on her neck. Although they are separated by a thick wall, they finally collide and she reveals a secret that forces him to commit the worst crime: murder. ]

This oneshot is my little Halloween gift. I wanted it to be a psychological horror novel, so there's a lot about what's going on in Ettore's own head. I hope you like it and remember that this is not a story that's supposed to be pleasant, and the behaviors in it are just plain toxic, lol.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

As he began to wonder why he kept staring at her, he decided it was because of how she stood out among the crowd. She was his boss's younger sister, which in effect allowed her to remain autonomous: she wasn't like him or the rest of the men in his group, who blended into one black mass with no beginning or end.

He though, unlike them, didn't do drugs and consumed alcohol in small amounts, liking to have his senses completely heightened – even more so when she was around.

He knew she was afraid of him, and that turned him on even more.

Her gaze fleeing in panic from his stare, the shudder that ran through her body when he sat down near her, her small hands clenched into fists on her thighs as if she thought she would be able to put up any resistance to him with their help, made him grin.

She knew he was watching her because he wanted her to be aware of it – to feel his breath on the back of her neck, his shadow following her silhouette, his scent in the room she was in. Somehow, he was amused by the discomfort painted on her face, the horror in her gaze, because, after all, he wasn't actually doing anything.

He was just watching.

He was just waiting.

There was something intriguing about this constant anticipation – they both knew that their collision weighed over them like heavy storm clouds, making them run out of air in the places they were together.

It was hard for her to breathe knowing she couldn't escape from him.

He enjoyed fucking like any guy: soft, subtle caresses were not in his nature, seeming to him to be tacky, feminine, filled with some kind of melancholy he didn't understand. Women who hung around dudes like him usually knew what they wanted: they liked bullies and toxic guys. Probably having been abandoned by their fathers as children, they sought out their warped double.

He used their bodies, treating them as warm objects in which he left his seed. He felt nothing but relief after the act itself, except some kind of aggression when they were too loud. He hated their unnaturally squeaky moans, finding them irritating: it seemed to him that they wanted to show him that the more he hurt them, the more pleasurable it was for them.

Something about this behaviour of theirs filled him with disgust, which usually ended with him pressing their faces against the pillow, and by the time he had finished, they were on the verge of suffocating, no longer deriving any enjoyment from the act itself.

"You're fucked up," one of them said, but fell silent when he hit her in the face with his fist so hard that she ran out of air in her lungs.

"Stupid bitch." He answered her.

Wasn't that what she herself wanted?

Or had she hoped that at some point he would confess to her that he had a weakness for her, that he bestowed upon her a cloying affection that she had not experienced from her parents?

He wasn't doing it to talk to them and didn't give a shit about what they needed.

They behaved like animals themselves, but only up to the point where they thought they were in control of what was happening – each was convinced that they liked the pain, liked the humiliation until they began to panic, as the thought finally appeared in their empty little heads that he perhaps wanted to kill them.

They weren't wrong: nothing would please him more than their eternal silence, the absence of their breathing, their moans, their words: just that wonderful silence around him, allowing him to enjoy the warmth of their bodies.

He wished they would just shut the fuck up.

He wondered if she too would have behaved like an animal if he had fucked her properly, but she was beyond his reach – as his boss's sister, she was untouchable, like a figure of the Virgin Mary in a church altar.

She even dressed differently from the women he usually surrounded himself with: she wore long floral jumpers, soft and warm, reaching her mid-thighs, shorts and knee-length socks, revealing only a small piece of her skin above.

Something about the fact that he couldn't just take her appealed to him – the fact that she was some kind of saint, a figure he couldn't desecrate, who would remain pure even in confrontation with him, that is, with nothingness.

They never exchanged a word with each other – he didn't say much, preferring to observe her from afar and keep his distance. She, quite the opposite – when she didn't realise he had seen her, she was bursting with energy, talking like crazy, discussing with various people for hours.

He circled around her like Pluto around the Sun, small and aloof, but still menacing – he let her forget his existence once in a while, only to appear before her suddenly at a time and place she least expected.

When, looking at someone else, she turned suddenly into a dark corridor in one of the nightclubs and bumped straight into his chest, he thought the heavens had shaken – the smell of her perfume was unnaturally sweet, making him think of a fruitcake, either with raspberries or strawberries.

"Oh, I'm sorry –" she muttered, still unaware of who stood before her – as she lifted her head, it was the first time he had seen her face so close up.

Her eyes seemed unnaturally large to him, her eyelashes long, her lips pink and full – he felt like biting them, hard, until he could feel her warm blood on his tongue, curious to find out if it also tasted like a strawberry.

Loud electronic music blasted around them from the speakers, making him feel as if they were both underwater – their silhouettes submerged in the red, sharp light seemed almost unreal to him.

He took a step towards her and she stepped back, hitting her back against a wall filled from top to bottom with all sorts of old posters. The crowd of people around them walked past them, heading to and from the toilets, chatting loudly to each other, paying no attention to them, as if they were invisible.

Anonymous.

The sacred mixed with the profane when his broad hand, in some subconscious, natural reflex, ran over her waist, sliding down to her back, letting his body cling to hers. He sighed, intrigued as she placed her hands on his chest, as if trying to keep distance between them.

He waited for her squeal of discomfort, for her terrified babble full of pleas and begging, but all he heard was her deep breathing, as if she was trying to calm herself. She closed her eyes, as if she thought that once she did, he would disappear – encouraged by the fact that she wasn't causing him any trouble and wasn't lashing out at him, he leaned over to sniff her.

He started with her long, dark hair, in which he sunk the tip of his nose – it was smooth and smelled of some kind of strawberry shampoo, which was perhaps responsible for her scent. Her fingers clenched tighter on the material of his simple black Tshirt tucked into his trousers as his nose slid slowly lower, to her cheek and then to her neck.

His hand roamed up and down her back like a guard, making sure she didn't try to pull away from him – the gentle movement of his fingers was a warning that he would remain calm as long as she remained so.

He felt her pulse clearly under her skin, the blood pumping rapidly through her veins, her heavy, excited breath like the sound of water. He slid the tip of his tongue out and ran it over her soft flesh, leaving a moist, warm trail on her skin. Her taste and salty sweat melted on his taste buds, making his erection, all swollen in his trousers, throb greedily, pressing against her lower abdomen.

He thought they were in some sort of in-between state – her quiet sigh, her head that tilted back, giving him more space to explore and admire, made him realise that they had just fucked in some strange, incomprehensible way.

The presence of others gave her a sense of security for certain – behind closed doors she would have been completely at his mercy, and here, now, she seemed to have at least partial control over the situation.

When his hand tightened on the material of her jumper and pulled at it, forcing her to turn her back to him, she did so without a word. He liked her silence, her deep breath in which, however, there was no terror – it seemed to him that she was actually curious about what was going to happen between them, as was he.

He had never touched a woman before without using force, so he felt that he was exploring completely uncharted territory of physical closeness between a woman and a man – encouraged by the fact that she offered him no resistance, hugging her cheek obediently to the wall, he leaned over and pressed his body to hers, pushing his erection against her buttocks.

He closed his eyes, wanting to focus only on the sense of smell and touch as he nuzzled his face into her hair, slipping his hands under the fabric of her jumper – they travelled lazily higher, over the skin of her stomach, until they came across her soft, plump breasts. Her breath caught in her throat, and her hands found a support in the cold wall in front of her as his palms clamped down on them – she hissed as he drove his nails into them, delighted at how well they fitted the shape of his hands.

"It hurts." She said in a whisper, startling him as one of her hands joined his, laying against his skin.

He couldn't say he wanted to cause her pain.

All he needed was for her not to disturb him while he took what he had craved for so long.

Her fingers guided him, directing his thumb to her nipple – she squeezed the spot and hummed quietly, rubbing her buttocks against his erection involuntarily, a shiver of something that clearly must have been pleasure shook her whole body.

He felt his cock pulsate hard, then again and again as he managed to get the same reaction from her – his face slid lower, to the crook of her neck, alternately licking her skin and sinking his teeth into it, trailing and rubbing both her nipples with his thumbs.

He felt them all swell and harden under his touch.

Her hand guided one of his arms lower, to the material of her shorts – involuntarily he clenched his fingers over the spot underneath which her warm pussy was, wondering if this was an invitation.

With one firm gesture he tugged at the material, letting her know that she was to pull it off no matter that there were other people walking around them.

To his surprise, she did so without a word, her jumper so long it covered her buttocks – it was only for a moment that he noticed what was between her thighs, her wetness glistening in the disturbing red light.

It took him a few seconds to undo his belt, trouser button and zipper.

"Bend over." He instructed her, and she obediently followed his command.

He didn't want anyone but him to see this wonderful sight, so he wasted no time – his hand guided the thick, pink head of his cock straight to her slit, and he immediately thrusted, forcing her to fit him inside. He sighed when he felt her resisting him – she was tight, or she was simply clenching her muscles around his length, wanting to make his task more difficult – something about this passive act of disobedience aroused him even more.

"– little slut –" He grunted, pulling back slightly with the movement of his hips, with another, sharper push opening her wide on his fat erection – both of them, to his surprise, moaned quietly and then fell silent, panting heavily.

He snuggled into her body as he felt the pressure lessen. He was finally able to slip deep between her fleshy, warm folds – she was wet, he thought intrigued, pressing his nose against her fragrant neck, beginning to move inside her at once.

There was no finesse in this act – their bodies slammed against each other with loud splats deafened by the music around them – only they could hear each other's accelerated breaths and gasps of pleasure, both clearly deriving some kind of satisfaction from what was happening.

"– how many of them have fucked you like this before? –" He hissed in her ear, running the fingers of one hand down her soft buttocks, the other clutched at her silken breast, playing with her nipple between them.

"– many –" She exhaled.

He would have known if someone had fucked her behind his back.

Even so, something in her answer infuriated him – the thought that if anyone else had come across her in this corridor, he might have had what he was taking now. He sped up aggressively, imposing a rough, brutal pace on her, again and again reaching almost to her cervix.

"– you're lying, you little whore –" He growled, pulling his hand out of her jumper, instead gripping her jaw with it. "– do it again and I'll break your neck –"

"– do it –" She said softly – it seemed to him that something resembling a smile flashed across her face as she closed her eyes and threw her head back, her walls clenching greedily around his erection in euphoria.

"– cheeky cunt – suck it, slut, or I'll kill you –" He threatened, thrusting two of his fingers deep down her throat – her moan was drowned out by his movements with which he slid them in and out from between her puffy lips, which clenched obediently around them with the quiet clicks of her saliva.

He felt what he saw in his cock, which pulsed aggressively inside her, the squeeze in his testicles testifying that he was close – her sudden, intense orgasm surged through her in spasms, driving him to the brink of peak.

"– don't stop – 'm about to come inside you –" He exhaled wearily and closed his eyes, involuntarily letting out a sigh of relief as his cum spilled deep inside her warm interior, mingling with her moisture.

She breathed heavily as he slid his fingers out of her mouth – he pressed his forehead against the wall, panting loudly, and she did the same, quivering all over, her slick cunt still pulsing around his half-soft, twitching manhood.

He glanced to the side, noticing a group of strange men watching them from a distance.

"– and what the fuck are you looking at? –" He called out, and the men turned away, clearly knowing who they were, not wanting any trouble.

"– my brother wants to kill you – tonight, when you leave the club – Matt will be waiting for you, he'll come up to talk to you – he'll have a knife under his jacket at the back – be quicker –" She whispered.

He froze, feeling his heart pound harder in his chest, the loud music around him seemed to deafen him.

"Why?" He asked.

"He's afraid of you." She replied. "You're unpredictable."

"Why are you telling me this?" He specified the question.

She looked at him but, to his surprise, he saw neither condemnation, disgust nor regret in her eyes – it seemed to him that she was tired.

It was one of those feelings that he could comprehend.

He was perpetually tired, discouraged, frustrated.

"I want to free myself from him." She whispered.

"You'll never escape him." He replied.

If not her brother, then his accomplices, they'd find her and squeeze out where he kept the money, the goods, the documents, and she'd tell them everything, willingly or not.

She closed her mouth, looking at him in pain. There was something hopeless about this view – her realisation that he was right and she was like a caged animal.

If he had been able to, he would certainly have sympathised with her, the only thing, however, that he experienced was discomfort, an unpleasant sting at the level of his chest that made him realise that enough was enough.

He grunted and slipped out of her, zipping up his trousers at once, watching impassively as she put her underwear and shorts over her buttocks, her eyes closed, her body shaking all over, as if she was about to crack, to fall to pieces.

But she didn't.

The blood on his hands was sticky and warm. He had never been fond of Matt – he was a barking wanker with a wide, sassy smile, thinking that anyone believed in his honest, good intentions. He was a walking narcissist obsessed with himself, convinced of his own inestimable worth, of the fact that he had managed to fool everyone.

He was choking as his blade didn't pierce his heart, but went a little higher – he did it on purpose to make the bastard suffer more.

He watched him writhing on the ground by the car park, howling and wailing, begging for help, but it was getting to three o'clock in the morning and everyone was inside, thinking that he was the one who was saying goodbye to life.

Returning home in his car, he realised he had to run, as far away as he can: so he packed quickly, putting only the most important things into a large leather bag, and walked out, leaving what was there behind.

He stopped a few streets away from their house: he knew exactly the location of their cameras and knew where to jump the fence to make sure none of them covered him. He had watched many times as she typed in the code that disabled the alarm, so he tapped it on the patio door keypad from memory:

45567

There was no one inside – surely they were all looking for him, but they hadn't assumed he would be right there.

He went into her room and lay down on her bed, recognising that he wasn't in a hurry – he was sure they would drive her away and continue looking for him themselves, doubtless heading towards his flat.

He would have about an hour.

Indeed, not even a quarter of an hour had passed when he heard someone open the front door downstairs – he was looking towards the window, at the setting sun, when she entered the room.

She closed the door behind her as if burned, looking at him in horror.

"What the fuck are you doing here? The whole city is looking for you. You should have been out of town a long time ago." She hissed.

"Come with me."

He didn't know why he'd said that.

He had been watching her for so long that it seemed to him that they had known each other for centuries, even though the only thing they had in common was that they were fucking that night.

"I can't. I have University here. I want to graduate." She muttered, pale with disbelief.

"It wasn't a request."

She swallowed hard, breathing louder and louder, and shook her head.

"No."

Her body pressed against the wall, her breath caught in her throat as he rose aggressively from the bed and pulled a gun from behind his belt, which he pointed straight at her.

"Pack your things or I'll shoot you in that little head of yours." He growled with impatience. "We were doing so well. Do you have to fucking annoy me?"

Her eyes glazed over with tears, her hand on her chest as if she couldn't catch her breath.

"Shoot me. I'm not going to change one madman for another." She said in a cold, breaking voice.

Her words enraged him – he moved on her like a bear, knocking over a chair standing in his way – she squealed as he pressed the cold barrel of the gun against her forehead.

"I'll blow your head off." He hissed, his other hand catching her jaw, shaking it so that the back of her head hit the wall several times.

"FUCKING SHOOT ME THEN!" She screamed as if she had lost her mind, and then burst out crying like a small baby.

His finger pressed lightly on the trigger, but he didn't do it all the way – his heart was pounding like crazy, adrenaline running through his veins like a stream, making his head hum. She whimpered as his fingers pressed harder into her jaw, his nose sinking into her hot, wet cheek.

Into her scent.

Strawberries.

His mother had once bought him a strawberry bun while they were at the bakery. Usually she spent her money only on alcohol, but then, that morning, she had still been sober. He devoured the bun like an animal, warm and sweet under his tongue, the taste of fresh fruit so wonderful that he had thought about it all day.

She looked up at him, stopping sobbing suddenly, as if something in his gesture surprised her – her eyes were fixed on his as she leaned towards him, letting their lips come into contact in what felt like a warm, sticky, wet caress.

He had never kissed before – he didn't and wasn't able to – but now his lips parted before hers, letting their tongues meet halfway, letting his teeth bite into her flesh, making the metallic, tart taste of her blood spill over his palate.

She embraced him and there was something sincere about it – some kind of understanding, a statement that she forgave him, despite everything.

He let his gun drop to the floor, his fingers clenching painfully tight on her hair, connecting with her in that aggressive, cruel way – he pulled away to catch his breath, and a few words left her lips.

"Find me. When everything goes quiet. You know where." She whispered, her cheeks hot and wet with tears under his fingers.

"If I see you with another man, I'll kill you both." He said.

She nodded, as if his words made no impression on her.

"I know."

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Drown Inside Me

23/12: Bed Sharing & Accidental Stimulation - Ettore Word Count: 1.3k~ | Warnings: somnophilia, degradation, thigh riding, choking, p in v sex, cockwarming A/N: This takes place in the Supernova Universe!

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

If she was anyone else, he'd have outright ignored her.

They were already breaking the whole ‘no fraternising between prisoners’ rule. Sharing a bed was another level above that. It wasn't a moment of passion and lust, back to faux-normality at the next moment. This had the possibility of getting caught. Facing real consequences.

Yet it was very much like a moth to a flame. Like fire and gasoline.

Drawn to each other but, in the end, destined to do nothing but hurt each other.

Ever since their hot and humid reunion, it was a borderline infatuation.

He knows it's wrong. Against everything he thought he was as a person, but there was just something about her. And not even just that. 

It was the taste of her as he woke her up with his face between her thighs, watching as she whined and tried to push him away, overstimulated and sensitive.

It was the sounds she made when she'd already cum twice and his pace didn't falter, feeling the way her walls fluttered around him, drawing painful pleasure from her with every harsh press of his fingers against her clit.

It was the feeling of her skin, flush and hot in his palm wrapped around her neck, her pulse trembling beneath it  as he pushed her knees to her chest, rendering her completely helpless as he speared her open on his cock.

Every now and then, between those moments, there was space for a slither of intimacy.

When he cracked his eyes open tiredly, unaware of what had woken him, he had his arm thrown around her waist, his knee nestled between her legs to anchor her to him. It was clear it was still the middle of the night, as the lights were still low.

The waves of consciousness slowly roused him, when he felt movement, the slightest bit. Like she might have been shifting in her sleep.

Except her movements felt far too calculated and intentional for her to be asleep.

From this angle, he could see her eyes were closed, lips parted to breathe slightly heavier. And she was moving her hips, to gain friction on his thigh that was nestled between her legs.

He dare not move, but a smirk rose to his face.

The little slut was using him for pleasure, thinking he was asleep. The dirty cunt.

For a bit, he allowed her to have her fun. Her subtle canting of her hips was not quite enough to get her off entirely. And he could tell she was getting frustrated at the slow pace, not wanting to wake him.

Good.

He would be quite content to let her do it, relishing in her humiliation, but he was getting painfully hard from the experience himself.

She gasped quietly as his hand that was around her waist suddenly slapped around her throat, tugging her back to his chest harshly, his fingers clenched at her jaw.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

She halted her movements instantly, her words and breath stuck hot in her chest.

“Hm? Using me to get yourself off while I'm asleep?”

Embarrassment clawed at her skin, not at the act itself, but the fact that he'd so clearly caught her doing it.

“Answer me.”

She nodded, “Yes..” she answered breathlessly.

She could feel his breath on the shell of her ear, his lips teasing the skin there. Ettore shifted his thigh firmly back between her legs, the stimulation making her jump.

“Go on then. Keep going.”

It was almost automatic. Her mind clouded by lust. She dragged her clothed core over his thigh, the friction making a fire blaze softly in her gut, she had to press her lips together to keep quiet.

He grinned, pressing his thigh to her in tandem with her movements.

“You just want to get fucked, don't you? Dirty fucking slut.”

She made a quiet whimpering noise, emboldened by his words and how he was saying them.

“Tell you what, if you get yourself off, you'll get the real thing. Would you like that?”

She nodded as best she could in Ettore's grip, moving herself in earnest and fucking herself on his broad, muscled thigh. His hand remained around her neck, reminding her exactly who was in charge.

Moisture pooled between her thighs, her lips parting as the feeling grew larger yet, her stomach tightening with each roll of her hips. Alongside this, he managed to grind his hard length against her backside, gaining the smallest bit of friction from the moment.

She moved her head back, her eyes fluttering shut as her peak began to crest, moving in earnest on his thigh that the bed began to creak.

“-fuck- that's it - can't wait to feel you cream on my fucking cock-” he breathed, his lips pressed to her neck, “-so good for me-”

When his hand tightened around her throat she whined quietly, the euphoric feeling of haziness combined with the way her limbs were being flooded with warmth had her feeling as if she was floating.

“-shit-” is all she managed to say as she felt herself fall apart, moving pitifully on his thigh, feeling the slick pooling there as she rode out her high on him.

She wasn't even done before Ettore hastily pulled his sweatpants down, obviously unable to wait any longer, relishing the choked whine she let out when he sheathed himself inside her in one, smooth movement. 

The blunt head of his cock began to bully the sensitive spot inside her in earnest, with no build-up, his hand wrenched on her thigh to keep it elevated to open her wider.

“You need to shut the fuck up, or we'll get caught-”

She nodded quickly, “...sorry, I'm sorry…”

But that didn't mean he had to slow down. With one hand still tightened around her neck, as if he didn't care whether he was blocking off all air or not, he pushed his hips against her with a wet smack, feeling her slick coat the length of him and some of his thigh as well.

“God, you're fucking pathetic - making a mess on me-”

He revelled in her tight warmth, each little ridge inside her choked him for dear life, her body still sensitive from her previous orgasm which had barely ended. He could even feel her walls flutter around him, trying to suck him in deeper.

Usually he wasn't vocal during sex aside from the odd sentence and low moan, but there was something about this time that just felt so different. So right. His breath was hot and patted against her tacky skin, now chasing his release, envisioning his cum leaking out of her.

Each thrust was followed by a quiet moan, until it evolved into a long, choked whine as she tightened around him again. Her second crept up on her rapidly, and as she clenched impossibly, it was almost difficult to stuff himself back inside her one last time before he too let go.

Each sighed as he filled her to the brim, the feeling of his warm release at the very end of her made his grip loosen somewhat around her neck.

“Fuck-”

All that was heard was their heavy breathing, trying to suck air back into their lungs.

She laughed breathlessly, “enjoy that, did you?”

She grinned in a way he both loved and hated.

He hummed, almost so low it came out a growl, moving his hips to keep himself nestled inside her.

“You can fucking talk.”

She smiled mischievously, her eyes glimmering, spent from the exertion of sex.

“I thought that's what you liked about me?”

“Hm”, he grumbled tiredly, his head falling back on the pillow, “I might change my mind if you don't shut up. Go to sleep.”

He knew she wouldn't take it personally. She never did.

She huffed a tired laugh and laid her head on the pillow, melting into the mattress, tired and fucked out.

He wasn't one for words, not nice ones anyway. There was no time for affection.

And as he watched her eyelashes flutter shut, tugging her body back to his with his length softening within her, he only showed it when she was asleep, with something as simple and innocent and brushing his fingers through her hair, easing her to sleep.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

[thought--bubble]

Very nice, my love!

Interesting version of Ettore!

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕... Ettore x Reader (Earth)

Thinkink about the Anti Love Ettore fic I forgot to finish in time for valentines day. 😗 Whoops. But here is the overview of it!

Tw: Smut, Oral Sex (m receiving), facefucking, ball play, fingering, tiddy suckin, lactation kink (with no lactation), p in v, creampie

Late Valentines Day Special 💌

A/N: In this fic, Ettore has not been caught for his crimes (yet), so it still takes place on Earth. // Banners @cafekitsune

Next Part >>

Listened to "Do it For Me" by Rosenfeld while writing this.

Love.

Ettore knew that wasn't possible for him. The way he was and the stuff he liked didn't match the soft idea that love is. His sick and tortured mind would be all too dark for the airy and light idea.

It's not as if he didn't love some things. He loved the feeling of a girl clenching around him, he loved how they would moan a mix of pain and pleasure. He loved when he could effectively make them go from hating him to wanting him to go deeper. The best moments of his life were his cock buried in the tight pussy of some unexpecting girl.

But that was the only love he'd ever known. The only love he's ever seen. His mother used to be fucked the way he fucks. Hard and ruthless with no care for the girl. I mean, thats the only way he's ever seen or heard of. Is that is not how it's meant to go?

But Ettore had his moments where he would imagine a girl wanting him. Wanting his touch, kissing him, holding him. The way his mother used to when she wasn't too busy doing drugs, having sex or dealing with abusive fuckers he was forced to call dad.

Ettore's past had only elicited a fucked future. Two girls had died by his recklessness and he was lucky he hadn't been caught yet. But he couldn't help himself. He liked it when they liked it but something about them not wanting it was even fucking better. The way they would scratch his back, the way they screamed. It just all felt too good to him.

There was only one time where Ettore didn't end up killing the girl, and that was with you. You screamed surely, but not in pain...but pleasure. It wasn't like the moans he had heard before, soft and pliable. You scratched him not to fight him off but to make him go harder and deeper. The same feelings he got from the girls who didn't want it he got it from you but the difference...you needed it. You needed him.

He didn't know much about you. But he knew just like him you were just as fucked. Your past is just as dark as his which led you to the same life. Searching for pleasure wherever you could. Ettore found it in women but you found it in items. The stuff you never had. Your fingers were all too sticky and you stole whatever wasn't tied down.

An odd friendship formed between you and Ettore, if you could even call it that. He called you when he wanted to fuck and in return told you of stuff he saw that would be easy to steal.

It was after Ettore had killed another girl and you showed up at his place unexpectedly as he was getting rid of the body that your friendship became the word instead of an unspoken possibility. The way you helped him clean up and get rid of the body was a type of loyalty he himself had never experienced. It had him fucking you deeper and harder right next to the bagged corpse.

It was then that a new feeling formed in his heart when he looked at you. He didn't know what it was but it made his stomach dance and tie in knots. Besides the throbbing of his cock his chest would tighten slightly and a smile (yes, a smile) now adorned his lips at the sight of you. His emotions were like two sides of a coin.

He would kill for you but also kill you if he had to. He would fuck you but also fuck you if he had to. He wouldn't want to hurt you but he would love to if given the chance. He wanted to do right by you but being wrong feels so good. It was a constant battle in his mind.

He was getting everything he wanted when he was with you. But did he crave more? Ettore knew he was by no means soft. But you know that. You above everyone else would understand his darkness and only love him more for it.

Did he say love? Was this love?

No it's lust...it has to be just lust.

You would never feel the same. He's an idiot. Embrace him? Yeah right, you'd laugh at him. Joke about how dumb he was for wanting you. No, all he could do now was fuck you and kill any guy who would get close to you.

He can't give this up.

The way you come into his apartment all giddy, excited for him to fuck you. How you're already on him the second the door is closed. Fuck he loves how badly you beg for him to touch you. Your kisses are always messy and hungry, no matter how many times you feel him it's like you always need more. Like what he gives is never enough and you'll never be tired of him.

He enjoys slowly undressing you. Each time he sees you you're in a new lingerie set you stole. His favourite to date has to be the black piece you wore for his birthday. You found out he'd never had a birthday party before and decided to surprise him. That day engraves his mind, the way you looked in the set constantly makes him hard.

He closes his eyes and lets the memory take over as his hands find their way wrapped around his cock.

You had come over late with a cake and alcohol. Ettore had gotten up to get plates and when he came back, there you stood. Jacket off, shoes off. Just in that set, a black one-piece with thigh garters on. It was lace and framed your body perfectly like a personal fucking painting made just for him. It did his head in right there.

He picked you up and carried you to the bed not giving a fuck about the plates he just broke as they shattered on the ground. Your squeals of excitement only made him harder.

As always your safeword was mango. But he never failed to remind you every time.

"Is this what you came here for?" He grabbed your hand and placed it over his growing erection. You nodded as you palmed him through his sweatpants. "Take it out then."

The feeling of your hand feels way better than he is. He often struggles to get off considering the large difference between your hand and he is.

You're always so gentle when you touch him. As if you could break him. You slowly pull down his sweatpants as he lays on the bed. He enjoyed watching you undress him, the way your eyes would never leave his.

The second he was free from his clothes you crawled in between his lap leaving kisses on his v line then up and down his cock. Your soft hands massage his balls as your lips wrap around the head of his cock. He remembers the way you gently grazed your teeth against him, how it made him shiver, a spark going up his spine.

His hands found their way to the back of your head as he pushed you down further wanting you to take him all the way. He loved the sound of you gagging on his cock, how tears would fall down your cheek as he used your mouth however he wanted.

As you sat in between his legs he fucked up into your face hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. He watched as your fingers made a feeble attempt to pleasure yourself but no one could finger you like he could. You had quickly learned that after your first time fucking him, no boy could ever make you cum the way he does.

Ettore felt the same way he could never get to fuck someone's throat like this, no one would let him and he wouldn't risk his prized possession getting bitten off.

As he came down your throat he pulled you up to him and kissed your tears. The salty taste made him moan. He removed your fingers and plunged his own deep inside you effortlessly rubbing that soft side inside you. You came almost immediately considering you had basically been edging yourself the entire time you sucked him off.

Ettore had found love for the way you ride him a long time ago. The way you sank down on his cock that night felt almost euphoric. He had long torn off your lingerie knowing you'd just end up stealing another one.

Your pussy was his, always so wet for him and happy to welcome him home. You were his home. Inside of you was where he belonged and no one else.

You bounced on him happily scratching and squeezing his chest in pleasure as his hands gripped your ass and travelled up to your tits. His tongue gently grazed over your nipples giving them only the smallest amount of attention before his lips and hands were on them once again. He often imagined what it would feel like for milk to come leaking out of them and pooling into his mouth, how fucking delicious your milk would be.

He could feel you clenching around him but knew you wouldn't be able to finish without him. He was quick to flip you over onto your back and fuck you into the mattress. One hand pressed down on your stomach while the other circled your bud. Fuck you were hot when you came. Shaking around him squeezing his arms. And your moans, louder than they had ever been.

He grabbed onto your hips, fucking you faster chasing his own release. That night he came harder than he ever had. Spilling himself deep inside you as his lips left marks all over your tits and neck.

A new routine had developed a while ago for afterwards. You had taught him the importance of aftercare. Though at first, he didn't understand what the fuck that was and why it was important. For you, he would do it. Checking on you and getting you water as he wiped you clean trying not to be too rough to overstimulate you even though he loved how you twitched when he did.

And a step of his own he added. Holding you. It fed that feeling in his chest having you so close to him. His hands gently rub your back as you lay on his chest feeling your heart beat against his.

Ettore's eyes popped open as he came on his hand the memory quickly floating away. His breathing uneven and unsure.

That's when he comes to a conclusion. He wouldn't be able to survive without you your pussy. He couldn't lose you it to someone else who understood what it meant to love. He knew what he had to do. The second he sees a bit of the mundane life creep in you he will snuff that light out. He needs you to be as dark as he is. That's the only way you will stay with him.

Fuck love. It has no place here.

A/N: My professor had given me two assignments due on valentines day...i came to the conclusion that she is a hater. But nonetheless!! Here is my anti-love Ettore fic!

If you want another part of this let me know I have an idea in mind to develop this further! (ok honestly I have like 5 other parts already planned out in my google docs....)

(This photo his so perfect for valentines day Ettore)

Ewan Taglist: @thought--bubble @valeskafics

[lya-dustin]

The Ewanverse Family Tree

for shits and giggles and A Comedy of Non-Mathematical Errors

a collaboration by @toms-cherry-trees @elizarbell @huramuna

Family tree

9th and 10th century

(the last kingdom)

Osferth + unknown wife

19th century

Mr. and Mrs. Bennett

(World on Fire)                                                                     

Douglas Bennett + Josie Bennett 

-Tom Bennett                                                            

-Lois Bennett 

Vera Chase

(The Halycon)

Margaret ‘Peggy’ Bennett+ Mr. Taylor

William ‘Billy’ Taylor

unknown sister

(Granchester)

Unknown Bennett sibling

-Abraham

20th century

Bennett Family post wwii

Tom Bennett + Diane Shelby (oc)

-Thomas Bennett Jr(oc)

-Elizabeth Bennett (oc)

Bennett Family

1960s

(Saltburn)

Tom Jr + some rich girl he met in Oxford in the 60s (unclear how he became a peer)

Elspeth Catton

Eadmund Bennett (basis GRRM used for Aemond Targaryn)

Micah Bennett

Lizzie + several unnamed men she hooked up with during the 60s and 70s

Billy Washington’s mom, Val Washington(Trigger Point)

Will from Salad Days’ dad

Jack from Fire’s mom

Bennett Family

1980s-1990s

Tom Jr's kids and grandkids

Elspeth + Sir James Catton

-Michael Cherwell Catton

-Felix River Catton

-Venetia Trinity Catton

Eadmund Bennett + Alice Rivers

-Ettore Rivers

Micah Bennett (via sperm donation)

Genyen/Shawn (Doctors)

Lizzie’s grandkids

Lana and Billy Washington (Trigger Point)

Will(Salad Days)

Jack and his brother (Fire)

Daniel from the veggie addicts video

Every single small role Ewan has ever been on

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

'THE CONQUEROR REBORN'. ( DARK! AEGON ii TARGARYEN )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. Here is a sneak peek of one of the chapter's from "THE CONQUEROR REBORN". <3 pairing: DARK! King Aegon ii Targaryen x Hightower! OC ( Roselyn Tully-Hightower ) prompt: It becomes clear that Aegon had no intent to let OC go. word count: 500+ words ( If you like this. Go to wattpad to read the rest of it! )

Feeling a figurative noose tightening around her throat, she pauses for a moment, contemplating what to say or do next. It was clear that Aegon was fragile mentally, the days of mixing arbor red and raging just boiled up into a whirlpool of just bad. Bad everything. Chewing on her bottom lip slowly, she slowly walks away from him, heading to the balcony. Clutching at the pearl necklace wrapped around her throat, she claws at it, feeling like it was choking her.

“I can’t breathe.” She pants, “I can’t breathe.” 

“Roselyn..” He whispers, his voice gentle. 

“I want to go home.” She whispers, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Home?” He asks, “Home?”

She knew the truth, she couldn’t go home. She couldn't go home to the Riverlands. The first time in years, her family wished to see her again, the first time since they had married her off to Ettore, and she could not go home. She could not go home. She couldn’t fucking go home. Holding back the urge to not break down in tears, she leans against the balcony railing, staring down below. 

Letting out a shaky breath, she eyes the lush green of the courtyard staring right back at her. The fall would be enough to kill her. Or if she dared, kill Aegon. Feeling him curl into her side, his hands slowly trail up her hip, wrapping around her waist. His face softly burying into her neck, his breath reeking of arbor red. She could do it. She could push him. 

“We are at war, your family, your House have bent the knee for Rhaenyra. You must understand why I keep you here, Roselyn.” He explains, “Tis’ not safe for you.” 

“I..”

“You married my cousin. You are tied to House Hightower, not House Tully anymore. You are more Hightower than Tully.” He adds, “They won’t accept you, not anymore. Tis’ why you should stay, stay with me, with Helaena.” 

Going deadly still as he brings up Helaena, she could feel the necklace tightening around her throat, her breathing growing wheezy. He knew exactly what he was doing with bringing up Helaena. It was cruel and manipulative, and just so evil of him to do so to her.

Shutting her eyes as her breathing grows more wheezy and fast, she tugs hard at the pearl necklace, a dozen little pearls exploding all over the floor of the balcony. Though it did not matter, as the pressure on her throat loosening and she could breath once again. 

“Now, look at what you’ve done. You ruined my gift for you.” He scolds, his fingers brushing against her neck.

“Your Uncle promised me that I could go home⎯”

“My dreadful little Great Uncle from Oldtown has no right to speak on behalf of me, the King. I want you to stay, so does Helaena.” He whispers, “Do you not care for Helaena? Think of how upset she will be if you leave.”

“I do.”

“Then you will stay.” He presses kisses along her neck, “It would be so cruel to abandon me and Helaena in our hour of need. We need you, Roselyn.”

----

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

[thought--bubble]

OK

I'm gonna reblog this immediately only because I'm posting an Aemond story tonight, and then after that, will be the Kitty-Cat epilogue. It is finally done and just being edited. So a day or 2, maybe 3 if I'm lazy.

Thank you for reading through this insanity!

Make You Purr

Ettore X OFC

Warnings after the cut

Ettore Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings:: Dubcon,Smut, Mommy Kink? Lactation, Ettore.

A/N: This can be read as a one-shot or as a follow-up to my Kitty-Cat series, which can be found here

"You do not need to accompany her every time," Dr. Dibs looked up at Ettore, irritated while he looked back at her expressionless from his place leaning against the wall.

That's my pet

He stays put a smug look on his face as Dibs does her exam on you checking on the progress of your pregnancy, taking blood tests, checking your weight and just all the things that generally should be tracked and monitored for a pregnant woman.

From the outside, it would seem like a dedicated doctor and a loving boyfriend were supporting you during your pregnancy, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Dr. Dibs is no caring OBGYN. She is a mad scientist trying experiments and using the woman aboard this ship as lab rats. While Ettore is not anywhere close to a loving boyfriend. Ettore is an apex predator driven by primal needs. He is compelled to make moves and decisions that serve to keep him fed. Which is how you ended up in your current predicament.

Your inability to communicate with those around you and your incessant need to be touched made you the perfect prey for Ettore, and he circled and cornered you until finally, like a gazelle to a lion he now has you exactly where he wants you.

Ettore had made himself feared upon this ship and, in doing so, made himself untouchable. Even with this status, he goes about his daily life almost the same as he did before, except now he brings his pet with him everywhere, and he no longer hides it. He doesn't feel the need to pretend that he doesn't own you. No, instead, he flaunts it. Dragging you behind him at all times, he worked hard to catch you at great personal risk, and he would be damned if someone were to come between you now.

You are about 5 months pregnant at this point, and still Ettore keeps you glued to his side. You are his pet. His property, and as your belly grew, and your breasts swelled, you had thought his appetite for you would have lessened, but somehow, it seemed to have the opposite effect.

Ettore was more insatiable than ever to the point where he wasn't even waiting to get you in private anymore. At times, he just bent you over the counter while you worked the cafeteria shift, showing no concern whatsoever to the other inmates coming and going. The never-ending pressure of Ettore's sexual needs and possessive behaviors coupled with your pregnancy had your battery running dangerously low.

After your appointment with Dibs, you were exhausted and wanted to lay down. Ettore headed towards the cafeteria, but you turned the opposite direction towards his room, the room that you now both slept in.

"Kitty?" He calls after you while he watches you waddle in the opposite direction. He follows you back to his bunk, and you crawl in and sigh, instantly closing your eyes.

"Cmon, it's time to eat." He grips your hand tight and attempts to pull you from the bunk. You yank your hand from him and roll over, grumbling.

Why isn't she listening? she always listens?

He crawls into the bunk with you and rolls you flat on your back. You instantly start to whimper and whine.

"Shhh kitty." He strokes your cheek, and with a small smile, you nuzzle into his hand. "What's going on with you, huh?"

He pulls the blanket down and off of you, then quickly reaches for your scrub bottoms, pulling both those and your panties down.

You attempt to squeeze your legs together. You are tired, big, uncomfortable, and your boobs hurt. Trying to keep up with Ettore's insatiable appetite has become near impossible for you, but Ettore always makes sure he gets what he wants.

He positions himself between your thighs and begins to stroke himself to hardness staring at your belly. He rubs his hand up over your stretched out abdomen and tilts his head to the side.

I did this. This is mine

He rubs his thumb over your clit watching as your body begins to twitch, your belly poking higher into the air. He slides a finger into you as he leans over you and grabs one of your tits.

Your eyes fly open, and you wince at the harshness of the squeeze pushing his hand off.

He growls, but as he goes to grip it again, he feels the heat radiating off of your breasts and instead ops to simply roll the nipple between his fingers.

You let out a sound that is somewhere between a sigh of pleasure and a groan of pain. Ettore's cock throbs at the sound as he bites his bottom lip.

Such a helpless little thing, my kitty

He lines himself up at your entrance, unable to wait even another minute before pushing himself into you with a growl. You whimper at the intrusion, as he slowly pushes his cock further until he bottoms out and then starts to slowly drag himself back repeating the motion at that same unhurried pace.

You close your eyes and lay back, trying to just enjoy the sensation. You feel his hands move along the tight skin of your stomach, the touch gentle, much more gentle than you are accustomed to.

You melt into the mattress, eyes closed, just soaking in the attention until suddenly it stops. Ettore pulls out of you and drops down beside you, looking up at the bunk above. You roll your head to the side and, with shock, recognize the look on his face. Only it isn't a look you have ever seen on him, only on others. He looks vulnerable, scared even.

You pull yourself up, and he instantly joins you by sitting up himself, his eyes watching every little movement you make. You know he needs comfort and care. It isn't something you ever expected him to need. You don't know how you know. Maybe a mother's intuition? All you know is he needs this now and you couldn't help but want to provide it to him.

You lift your leg across his lap, straddling him as he looks up at you. His eyes are pleading, like a lost puppy in need of saving. You know this man to be a wolf, but all wolves were puppies once. You kiss his forehead and rub your cheek against his and feel his body tense and then soften.

Ettore closes his eyes the feeling in his chest gets tighter and he is getting worried, he doesn't recognize this feeling and he doesn't like it, but when he opens his eyes again and looks up at you as you gently caress the sides of his hair with your hands he can't help but surrender to this new feeling, even if just for a little while.

Please Kitty, take care of me

You lower yourself onto his cock and ride him slowly. He slides his hands up your back pulling your chest towards his face nuzzling his face in between your breasts. The gentleness of this experience is something entirely new to him, and his head is swirling with new feelings and new sensations, the whole thing becoming a bit overwhelming.

He grasps tightly at one of your breasts, and you shriek out in pain. Your boobs have been so sore the last month that touching them almost at all is unbearable. He takes his hand back quickly and gently caresses your left breast. You continue to bounce gently on his cock as he takes your left nipple into his mouth.

You hiss slightly pulling away, but he holds you in place with his hand on your back as he continues to swirl his tongue around your nipple and gently suck on the tender flesh. His eyes go wide the first time he feels liquid enter his mouth but when he looks up at your face, only to see a look of relief and euphoria he knows this is right, this is what he should be doing. so he continues his ministrations, drawing more liquid from your breast while gently massaging the hot skin.

You start to move your hips with more purpose as he switches to your right breast, again circling the nipple with his tongue before drinking his fill.

You wrap your hands around the back of his head, holding him gently to your chest as you slightly increase your pace, your breath coming out in labored huffs. Your center starts to clench around him, and he knows you are getting close.

He continues to suck on your nipple while bringing his hand down to your clit and rubbing circles upon the engorged nerve.

His eyes open in shock when you start to moan, really moan, loudly. His obedient, sweet, quiet, Kitty almost never makes a sound.

I finally made you Purr

The sound of your moans, the clench of your most intimate muscles around him and the shudder that runs through your body from the power of the orgasm that blasted it's way through you was enough to send Ettore into bliss of his own as he grunted, looking up at you jaw slack while he coated your walls once again.

He helped you lay back on the bed and watched you intently as you drifted off to sleep a small smile on your face.

As he lay there next to you, his hand on your belly, his mind started to race with the thoughts of the other women who had gotten pregnant on the ship. All of them died.

Every. Single. One.

Dibs didn't try hard enough, she missed something, she's doing something wrong.

For the first time in months, Ettore got out of bed and left you alone to sleep while he moved through the hallways with purpose toward the office of Dr. Dibs.

He was determined to make sure she was aware of how important it was for her to figure out how to get you through the pregnancy without losing you.

Because if Kitty dies. Everybody Dies

To be added to taglist click here

[asumofwords]

Masterlist

Hi I'm Tee! I write fanfic and am entirely feral. Smoke, Fire and Ash is my first ever fanfic. I have always enjoyed reading and writing! My AO3 is the same handle @asumofwords

I mostly write for HOTD, But I'm also open to writing for other characters so it's best to just ask if you're unsure!! <3

Currently my requests are CLOSED!

BOUNDARIES FOR REQUESTS: I will not write for anyone who is underage (actor and character) and I will not write anything for stepdad/stepchild fics.

If you would like to be added to a general writing tag list, click here.

Aemond Targaryen:

Smoke, Fire and Ash (COMPLETED)

Dark! Aemond Targaryen x Reader

The Sublet Masterlist (COMPLETED)

Modern!Aemond x Reader, Roommate!AU

Lighthouse - Miniseries - (COMPLETED)

Sailor!Aemond x LighthouseKeeper!Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Watercress - Miniseries

Aemond x OC

Chapter 1

Til Death Do Us Part - Oneshot

Dark!Modern!Aemond x Reader, Divorce!Au

Ettore from High Life:

Treat

Michael Gavey from Saltburn:

Midpoint Common Factors

REQUESTS:

Unsought Betrothal - Dark!Aemond Targaryen

Unsought Betrothal Part 2 - Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Cock sizes Drabble

What Aemond, Aegon, Daemon, Jace and Criston fancy.

Linger - Ghost!Aemond x Reader, Possessed!Cregan x Reader, Spooky Season >:)

If you wish to be put on the taglist, please let me know ! :)

[arcielee]

Do you have any fic recs for other characters that Ewan has played?? Tom especially??

Okay, I have my tags [☆ arcie's library & ☆ arcie's fic recs] but you mentioned one of my favorites played by Ewan soo...

My darling anon, do I ever.

Here are some Tom fucking Bennett ficrecs 💖

For series I adore:

The Seamstress & The Sailor by @assortedseaglass This is definitely one of my favorites. Hilde portrays Tom in a way the WoF writers envy and her OCs that she knits into this story are just so perfectly flawed. This is a slow burn and I just love every word.

Gone With Regrets by @myfandomprompts One of my first Tom Bennett stories I have read and I absolutely fell in love. Her Tom is such a scoundrel with a heart of gold and I fucking adored it.

As the World Burns by @theoneeyedprince This has another rich OC. I love the interactions she has with Tom so far, just this palpable tension between. The story is new, but with how Justine delivered with A Refined Taste, I have complete faith in that I will love this one as well.

One-shot delights & depravities I love:

I enjoyed @exitpursuedbyavulcan 12 Days of Smuff, especially the Tom Bennett pieces that fed into one another. They were delicious.

@helaelaemond has written some of the raunchiest Tom Bennett x reader stories that always leave me weak in the fucking knees.

@aemondsbabe [Homecoming] & @happilyhertale [all her Tom Bennett x reader] & @adragonprinceswhore [her Tom Bennett x reader] are other one-shots I have read and enjoyed thoroughly.

@valeskafics has written for Tom Bennett x reader, but she also writes for the Ewanverse in general, and since you mentioned characters 😈

And since you mentioned other characters...

@troublesomesnitch did this Abraham x reader piece that had me chewing on my furniture.

@fallingintoyourlilaceyes has written for Osferth and Michael Gavey and it is also delicious.

@itbmojojoejo did this piece for Ettore that I fucking loved: Home Sweet Prison [but I just noticed there was another one, omg 👀]

And for those who got to see Salad Days, Redemption by @babyblue711 was just wonderful.

Oh! Honorable mention to that sad, wet cat Billy Washington. Most of the writers I have mentioned have also written for him because how can you not?? Look at him! 😭

Please note this is such a small selection of the talent that is on this hellsite. Feel free to reblog with with some of your favorites!

[helaelaemond]

📖 Fic rec time! When you get this, reply with three fics that you've read and loved to pieces, then pass on to at least five other people who read fics. Let’s appreciate fic writers and their amazing stories 💖

I cannot keep it to just three!

Ghost of a King (Aegon x Helaena x Aemond) - @sylasthegrim - this is the first fic I ever read in the Ewanverse space, and the first fic I reblogged on this account. Just thinking about it - and Ez - makes me feel all warm and full of butterflies. I cannot recommend it enough!

Abraham x reader - @troublesomesnitch - this is a truly beautiful fic that I keep coming back to time and time again, it's so immersive, so beautifully written, and so sexy like omg me next pls pls plssssss

Lazy Sunday (Billy W x reader) - @arcielee - one of my all-time favourite comfort fics. It feels like a warm hug, a totally safe space, all hazy orange light and comfy pillows. I sink into it time and time again

See You At Sunset (Billy W x reader) - @targaryenrealnessdarling - this is a genuinely fantastic piece of writing, and the characterisation of Billy is wonderful. It is an intensley perfect balance of romance and sexiness, and I'm not ashamed to admit I've re-read it probably a dozen times

Take Me To Church (Osferth x reader) - @sylasthegrim - my beloved Ez is one of the most artistic writers I have ever read. The way they weave words together is an absolute joy to read, and my own writing improves just from reading theirs. This fic in particular is so intense and so emotive, it's a stand-out to me. Guilt-wracked and impossibly-turned on Osferth is just a delight, and it makes my heart race.

Hush (modern Aemond x reader) - @st-eve-barnes - to put in writing how much I adore this fic would dimish any meaning. I want to write poetry about this and it changed me as a person, I fear

Gone With Regrets - @myfandomprompts - my sweet, wonderful myfandomprompts, who would I be without this series? I have never been one for OCs, and this is the first fic in my entire time in fandom for more than a decade where I have absolutely fallen in love. This series is one of my all-time favourites. The narrative is dealt with sensitively (given the delicacy of writing about WWII from a French perspective) and the characterisation of Tom is so perfect. This series has such a special place in my heart, along with the writer.

Temptation (Ettore x reader) - @babyblue711 - this fic is a dark and intense ride, and handled in a deliciously depraved way. Not for the faint of heart, but for those enjoyers of a truly accurate Ettore, this fic is one of the stand-outs.

[flowerandblood]

The Temple of the God

[ Ares • Ettore x Aphrodite • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, fingering, smut, angst, violence, swearing, marital infidelity ]

[ description: Many men look at her with lust, however, no one's gaze is as terrifying as that of her brother, the god of war, cruel and cold, reminding her more of a barbarian than one of the kings of Olympus. He is known to care little about pleasing women in his brutal rapprochements with them, however, he surprises her with his attitude when he visits her one night. ]

This oneshot is my Valentine's Day gift to all of you. I love you, thank you for being here! I plan to come back to this couple in the future, let me know what you think! 💕

Part 2 − The Temple of War

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

She could see it in the way he looked at her. She saw it in the light movement of his head, his raised chin, his slightly parted lips, his gait lazy, confident, careless, like that of a bear or a lion. He circled around her, angry and frustrated, unable to get what he wanted.

There was something animalistic in his nature, in his posture, in his aura, his gaze seemed to her empty, yet at the same time endlessly deep and dark; he could not concentrate on calm deliberation, there was a perpetual, irrepressible storm in his mind.

He would exert himself on the battlefields, at the head of armies of his heroes, with whom he would train and duel for days, their muscular, broad bodies often completely naked, glistening with sweat and oil.

She watched them sometimes from the windows of her chambers on Olympus. Their great wars and pointless exercises aimed at making them tear their opponents to shreds, with one sword cut depriving them of their members, wallowing in their blood.

Her brother did not abhor carcasses, decay, murder, cruelty, she thought he fed on it, his enemies knew no mercy from him, their pleas clashing with the cold stone that was his heart.

Her nature was the complete opposite of his and they both knew that they had nothing to offer each other. However, whenever he caught sight of her silhouette, walking in the company of her servants, river and mountain nymphs, entertaining her with conversation, he did not take his piercing, hot gaze off her, his lips pressed into a thin line; he turned the hilt of his sword as if in a trance then, drifting away with his thoughts.

He did not desire her, he wanted to devour her.

She knew that he had cohabited with many women, including her maidservants, who later lamented to her that he was brutal and cruel, that he did not know or understand what female fulfilment and joy were, did not know the women's bodies and their secrets, because he was only interested in his own fulfilment.

One day she visited him while he was practising with his warriors; they were wrestling and throwing each other to the ground, the one who gave up had to pat the other on the shoulder.

They were completely naked.

Seeing her, several of them covered themselves, knowing full well who she was, ashamed that she might judge them or their bodies, mock them and expose them to the ridicule.

She, however, approached her brother, looking straight into his eyes beaming with utter black emptiness, his broad chest adorned with drops of sweat rising and falling in heavy breathing.

He stood before her without any sign of embarrassment, his eyes roaming all over her body, judging apparently how her flesh presented itself in her soft velvet-like translucent white robe, pearls braided into the curls of her hair. They stared at each other for a moment in silence, as if testing each other, her face, like his, expressing nothing.

"Stay away from my servants, brother. They have complained to me that you are hurting them." She said at last, his jaw clenched at her words, his nostrils quivering in impatience.

He didn't answer.

He never answered.

She turned away, heading back towards the cloisters, feeling the thirsty gazes of the men turning behind her, disappearing at last into the halls of the gigantic ancient palace.

Men craved her for many reasons, one of which was the urge to prove to themselves that they could be desired by the goddess of love herself.

It was a great oversimplification, however, because of her experience this is what she came to be called, people, men and women, began to offer prayers to her begging her blessing in their marriages, asking for her intervention in matters others would have been afraid to whisper about.

She blessed ardent loves, burning to the core.

Yet she herself, though she was ashamed to admit it, had not experienced one herself.

Every time she thought it was the one, the man she believed to be her beloved died, or betrayed her by following another goddess, bored. Her heart was broken so many times that she allowed herself to be approached by men only to give her physical pleasure.

Her husband, Hephaestus, was a good and warm-hearted man. He spent his days in his great forge located in the heart of the volcano, in which the fire flowed constantly. She visited him there rarely, the dust and noise there was unbearable for her.

Although they both had respect for each other and a kind of cordiality, he preferred to devote himself to his work. He did not understand her needs, just as she did not understand his, for which she did not blame him.

Their marriage, unlike that of Zeus and Hera, was more peaceful, both of them resigned to their roles and didn't get in each other's way.

She knew, however, that before her father, ruler of the thunderbolts and all of Olympus, had decided to marry her to Hephaestus, it had been the God of War himself who had furiously demanded her hand, believing that she was his to claim.

Their father did not share his decision, apparently fearing his violent nature and what kind of husband he would turn out to be.

Her brother then disappeared for years, sinking into great wars and battles, the earth trembled from his rage, from the peaks of their heavenly mountain she heard the cries and moans of his enemies.

That day, after what she had told him, he came to her at night.

Completely naked, without a trace of embarrassment on his face, he walked slowly across the cold stone floor towards her bed, draped with a canopy and translucent curtains, which he pushed aside with an impatient flick of his hand, passing between them.

He stopped when he caught sight of her bare figure, looking at him with furrowed brows she raised on one elbow, feeling no shame whatsoever, yet unable to stop the squeeze between her thighs and the heat in her lower abdomen noticing that at the sight of her body his manhood twitched and swelled.

"Get out." She said coolly, but he only hummed as if he was considering something. She turned on her back, ready to scream if necessary, knowing her servants would come to her aid and her brothers would drag him away from her.

She was curious, however, to see what he would do.

She looked vigilantly at his silhouette walking slowly towards her, with his big cold black eyes and tense body he reminded her of a wild animal preparing to attack.

She thought he was about to throw himself at her and try to take her against her will.

He, however, sat down beside her; his large, wide hand raised and, in an uncertain, calm movement, ran down her thigh, his fingers digging into her skin as if he wanted to see what it felt like.

"− like velvet −" He murmured low, breathing through his mouth as if he was trying to calm himself; she seemed to notice on his face something of childish curiosity, as if she and her body was something unremarkable and completely incomprehensible to him.

His hand went higher, to her breast and began to rub and play with it, as if he liked the shape of it and how pleasant it was to the touch. She sighed quietly, realising with disbelief that what he was doing and how he was behaving was making her wet, her fleshy insides pulsing with tension.

Finally his fingers ran over her neck and face, his thumb stopped and parted her plump, glistening lips; he leaned over her as if he wanted to get a proper look at her, his warm breath enveloped her skin, the smell of his sweat seemed primal, masculine to her, her body involuntarily quivered at the thought.

He kissed her, kissed her as if he wanted to devour her, his caress full of chaos and impatience, of his hot, sticky lips, of his wet tongue, of his saliva and teeth. She gasped into his mouth, surprised to feel what he was doing between her thighs, her heart pounding like mad.

He groaned low into her mouth in surprise and tightened his fingers on her cheeks, panting hard as her hand gripped firmly his hard, swollen manhood.

She gasped for air when she felt how generously he had been bestowed by the heavens; she gave him a few slow, encouraging squeezes sliding her hand from the fat, pink head of his cock to it's very base, his hips involuntarily began to respond to her movements.

"− harder −" He commanded, closing his eyes, his hand involuntarily squeezed her breasts, too hard and without sensitivity. She hissed quietly, clamping her hand tighter on his length, wanting to cause him pain; he growled feeling it, digging his fingers into the skin of her cheek, looking at her with rage.

"− not like that − more gently −" She explained, clamping her hand over his, showing him with the strokes of her fingers how he should caress her, directing his thumb to her nipple.

"− rub this place − ah, yes, just like that −" She mumbled, tilting her head back, feeling his impatient breath on her, watching her and her reactions with interest, surprised apparently at how she was able to change in a matter of moments.

She felt his length tremble in her grasp when he heard her first, quiet moans.

"− that's enough −" He said impatiently, laying down on top of her, his large hands, rough from holding the sword, gripped her thighs, wanting to spread them apart and finally possess her, her fingers tightening on his sweaty, muscular shoulders.

"− no − not yet − touch me there −" She mumbled.

He looked at her with a gaze from which her whole body froze, it seemed to her that his irises were completely black, menacing, burning with a desire that destroyed and devoured.

For a moment he didn't move, breathing heavily as if he was considering her words; she licked her lips realising that he had never done this before.

He had never touched a woman down there with his fingers or his lips, never caressed her before he owned her.

She swallowed loudly, sliding her hand down to his, in a gentle motion encouraging him to sink his fingers into her hot, leaking womanhood.

She heard him draw in a loud breath at the sensation, foreign and unfamiliar, tense, he rested the weight of his body on his elbow, leaning to the side, watching from the corner of his eye what he was doing to her.

"− here, brother − touching me here will give me pleasure −" She whispered, guiding his fingertips to the bud hidden between her folds, showing him how to tease her clit with circular, slow movements.

She parted her lips, feeling the pleasant tingling in her lower abdomen, her hips involuntarily began to respond to his strokes.

"− only here? −" He asked lowly, furrowing his eyebrows, his stony face expressing concern at her words knowing that the place she was showing him was outside and not deep inside her. She sighed quietly, guiding his middle finger to her slit; he looked at her face, gasping out loud, feeling the way her fleshy walls resisted him, hot and sticky.

"− not only − can you feel it? − right here −" She whispered, directing him to the spot inside her just above her opening, between her muscles. He shuddered all over, licking his lips, dried apparently from emotion, his erection hard and swollen, twitching involuntarily, betraying how aroused he was.

"− yes −" He exclaimed, digging his middle finger into the spot she showed him, his thumb teasing her pearl, clearly wanting to see what would happen when he started touching both places at once. She moaned loudly, tilting her head back, delighted at how unexpectedly pleasurable the sensation was.

"− gods − put it inside me −" She mewled, feeling that she no longer cared about retaining any remnants of her dignity, her free hand sank into his hair, pulling him close. He grunted loudly into her mouth like an animal throwing himself at her body, her fingers dug into the bare skin of his back, a moan of exertion escaped her throat when immediately the thick tip of his cock began to push against her tight walls.

"− wider −" He exhaled with a grin that was disturbing to say the least as with an impatient, confident thrust he forced her to let him in deeper. She breathed loudly, unable to believe how hard he was stretching her and threw her head back, a drop of sweat running down her long neck.

"− brother −" She whispered, something in the way she said the word made him lose his patience, his length began to slam into her in a fast, brutal rhythm, each time rubbing the spot inside her from where she could see the stars; it seemed to her that everything around her was spinning, the fingers of his hand cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look at him.

"− no, fucking look at me − look at me and listen to what my cock is doing to this weeping cunt − pathetic −" He hissed out through clenched teeth, as if he was both furious and proud at the same time. She whimpered helplessly, a loud smack echoed around them each time his thighs hit the bare skin of her buttocks, there was something lewd and definitive about the sound, proof of how wrong she was.

"− mghm −" She babbled, feeling like he was going to pierce her, the movements of his hips quick and aggressive, full of desperation and desire, their breaths embarrassingly loud and raptured. They stared at each other with their mouths wide open, as if they couldn't believe in what was happening.

"− what does it feel like, brother? − what does it feel like to fuck your own sister? −" She gasped, heard his surprised sigh at her question, his cock quivered hard inside her, his fingers dug harder into the soft skin of her cheeks, causing her pain.

He was moving so fast inside her that he was hardly slipping out of her, her fleshy walls, all leaking from her moisture, were no longer resisting him.

It seemed to her that he wanted to reply something, but the pleasure took his speech away; he leaned over suddenly and pressed his forehead against hers, panting loudly, his hot breath enveloping her face.

She could smell the masculine scent of his sweat, from which her cunt began to throb around him, her fingers traveled down from his back to his buttocks, stroking them with movements that could be called tender.

"− it feels good −" He whispered, looking at her with a gaze that sent shivers through her, at the same time animalistic, empty and full of something she couldn't name, desire as dark and disturbing as the night around them. The sure, loud, deep thrusts of his hips made her breath get stuck in her throat, she thought with horror, feeling a pleasant tickle in her lower abdomen, that she was about to come.

"− it feels right −" He muttered and ran his tongue over her lips, something in the way he said those words, in this shameless, lewd gesture, in the way the tip of his fat cock rubbed her again and again at the spot of her greatest pleasure made her melt in front of him.

She involuntarily tilted her head back and closed her eyes, a soft, helpless moan of delight broke from her throat as a wave of wonderful heat and relief shook her body, her walls began to squeeze him, sucking him inside.

"− fuck − fuck-fuck-fuck −" He merely muttered before sighing loudly.

She felt his hot seed spill inside her, filling her, and although she rarely allowed anyone such an honour, she was unable to deny him.

She stroked his naked buttocks with calm movements full of affection, in some subconscious, natural reflex, he continued to thrust into her for a moment longer, looking down at her with his mouth open wide in pleasure.

They stared at each other, breathing loudly, and she raised her hand, letting her fingers run over his temple, his cheek and his clearly defined long jaw. She saw him close his eyes for a moment, as if he wanted to remember this moment and this feeling.

"− there is no place for me to rest − no haven where I can take refuge − here is my only true temple −" He gasped in half whisper, as if he were revealing to her some shameful secret that was tormenting him. She swallowed quietly, feeling his body cling to hers, her breasts pressed against his bare, broad chest, his face snuggled into her hot cheek, his soft manhood still throbbed deep inside her.

"− my home −"

_____

General Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@triscy @re-per @diiickbrainn @queenofshinigamis @eponaartemisa @zaldritzosrose @writerloversjm @lauzy87 @targaryenrealnessdarling @briefcollectivepersona @ginarely-blog @lcecgg @an0ther-us3r @blackswxnn

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Nova Genesis

Part Two

Summary: disgruntled with the decision to return to Earth, who knows what the prisoners aboard will do to cling to their false freedom. And who will get mixed up with it | Word Count: 5.5k~ | Warnings: smut, p in v sex, dubcon, choking, degradation, blood, murder, threatening behaviour

She blinked hard, having stared at the blue, intrusive light of her computer screen for what seemed like hours now. Pressing the heels of her palms against her lids provided some relief to the thudding in her temples, but not nearly enough. This place was suffocating. And she briefly wondered how on Earth the prisoners had lasted as long as they had without going completely insane. She closed her laptop in a huff, her report written, a script planned out in her head for what she would tell Dr Dibs. She steeled herself, preparing for any reaction, her shoes plodding on the linoleum floor, every step echoing her growing apprehension, but she knew this conversation with her was inevitable. The dim lights in the corridor flickered as she reached the door. She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts before entering.

Inside, Dibs was hunched over a tray of instruments, methodically wiping each one with a clinical precision that made her skin crawl. The doctor didn’t look up, her voice calm, almost detached.

“You’re here to tell me it’s over, aren’t you?”

Even the tone she used seemed unemotional, a stark contrast to the mess she had been when they had first arrived and broke into their systems, destroying samples. She held her breath, “Yes. The investigation is wrapping up. We’ve gathered enough evidence to ensure this project is shut down. The prisoners will be returned to Earth.”

Dr Dibs shook her head, placing a gleaming scalpel on her table before moving to the next. “And you think that’s a good idea? Bringing them back?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think.”

Dibs finally looked up, her eyes dark with something unreadable. “No, I suppose it doesn’t,” she mused, before her lips turned into a small, cynical smile.  “They’ll tear each other apart before you even reach the atmosphere.”

Her stomach churned with unease at her words, though she tried not to show it on her face that the doctor had managed to make her uncomfortable. There was, of course, a whispering of rebellion amongst those who didn’t want to go back, she knew that. But naively perhaps, thought it would go no further than a few choice words. 

“An announcement will be made shortly. I suggest you prepare yourself for the outcome.”

“Prepare myself?” she echoed, her voice dripping with irony. “It’s you and your team who should be preparing. Once you announce their return to Earth, you’ll be the only thing standing between them and their worst nightmares.”

The prisoners were gathered in the central area of the ship, their eyes flickering with a mix of curiosity and suspicion as she stood before them, report in hand, flanked by guards. The air was thick with tension, the kind that makes every breath feel weighted. Each gaze was filled with distrust, hatred almost, all except one, half-lidded with amusement. She took a deep breath, projecting as much authority as she could muster. 

“After thorough consideration and investigation from our colleagues, it has been decided that this mission will be terminated, and all of you will be returned to Earth.”

A murmur spread through the crowd, a mix of surprise, disbelief, and anger. Monte stepped forward, his face a mask of barely contained fury.

“I’m not going back to Earth, not like this. You’re sending us back to rot in a cage, to be paraded around like freaks. We’re not going back. Not all of us.”

“This isn’t up for debate. The decision has been made,” she repeated, her voice firm though her heart pounded against her ribs.

Monte's fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white as the tension in the room thickened. His fury, barely held in check, finally broke through, spilling over like a dammed river and before anyone could react, he lunged forward, knocking over the nearest table with a force that sent equipment clattering to the floor. Other prisoners, emboldened by his defiance, began to move as well, their voices rising in a chaotic blend of anger and desperation. Chairs were overturned, shouts echoed off the metallic walls, and the guards tensed, readying themselves for violence.

“You’re sentencing us to worse than death!” Monte roared, his voice booming above the growing chaos. “You’re no better than the people who sent us up here in the first place!”

No. She thought. I’m a lawyer, I’m helping them. Surely.

She could not think why they would be so desperate to stay. So eager to die up here where nobody could find them, or even know where they were. But seeing the sheer determination in some of their looks, she briefly understood.

These people want to disappear.

Her hand hovered near her comms device, but she knew calling for more backup would escalate the situation further. But the guards, finally springing into action, moved to subdue Monte as he approached, and the other prisoners stepped in, creating a human barrier. The room descended into utter chaos as shoves turned into punches, and the violence spread like wildfire.

Across the room, Ettore leaned casually against the wall, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he watched the chaos unfold. His eyes locked onto hers from across the room, and for a brief moment, amidst the turmoil, their gazes held. There was something predatory in his expression, a dark amusement at her situation, as if he was enjoying the spectacle of her losing control.

“You think you can control us?” Monte snarled, his body wedged between two guards. “You think you can just send us back to that hellhole?”

With her heart hammering in her chest, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. She tore her eyes away from Monte’s seething form, only to find Ettore still watching her, his expression unreadable. She turned sharply on her heel, retreating to the relative safety of her team, her mind spinning. In the midst of the chaos, one thought lingered in her mind. Ettore’s smirk, his gaze that seemed to pierce through it all, as if he was waiting for her to slip.

Waiting for the vulnerability he was sure was going to rear its head.

Mink sidled up to Ettore, her expression serious as she glanced around to make sure no one was listening. Her voice was low, almost a whisper, filled with concern. “Monte’s losing it. You can see that, right?”

Ettore didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still following the path she had taken as she retreated with her team. The smirk from earlier lingered faintly on his lips, but there was something darker beneath it. He turned to Mink, his voice detached. “Monte’s been on edge since day one. Today just gave him the excuse he’s been waiting for.”

“He’s desperate. Desperate people do stupid things. What happens when she figures out what’s really going on here? If this blows up, they’ll throw us all under the bus.” 

"Whether it’s Monte that takes us out or Earth, doesn’t really matter in the end, does it?"

Her jaw tightened, frustration flickering across her face. “And what about you? What’s your angle in all this? Are you just going to sit back and watch him burn everything down?”

His gaze darkened as he thought about her, like the snuff of a candle, his blue eyes went near-black. There was something about the way she held herself, the way she looked at him, that intrigued him more than he wanted to admit. She had a confidence, a belief in her own righteousness that he found almost laughable. Yet, underneath it all, he could sense the tension, the fear she tried so hard to mask. He’d seen that look before, on other women, other people, just before they broke.

"Maybe I’ll just sit back and watch," Ettore finally answered. "Or maybe I’ll give her a little push, see how far she can really go before she snaps."

The door pressed shut behind her as she pushed into her quarters for the evening, still dressed even at such a late hour. She carried the day’s stress with the tension in her shoulders. If she focuses hard enough, she can still grip the panic she felt earlier that day when the prisoners had all turned on her and her staff. She kicked off her shoes, the tension in her shoulders momentarily easing as she stretched out her feet. The dim lights overhead cast a warm, soft glow over the small, sterile space. A brief respite.

As she was about to take a breath and unwind, everything went dark. The ship's systems cut out abruptly, plunging the room into an oppressive, suffocating silence. She froze, her heart leaping into her throat as she was enveloped in complete darkness. No emergency lights. No familiar hum of the ship's engines. Just an endless, empty, nothingness.

She couldn’t see her hand in front of her face, the blackness so absolute it felt as if the walls were closing in around her. Panic began to creep in, but she forced herself to stay calm. The air felt heavy, thick with an unnatural stillness that made her skin prickle.

“Stay calm,” she whispered to herself, reaching out for something, anything, to ground her. But her fingers met only empty space. She knew the layout of her quarters, could navigate it with her eyes closed, but the utter darkness was disorienting. She felt her way along the wall, her fingertips brushing against the cold metal, her breath quickening with each step.

The thought that this wasn’t an accident slithered into her mind. Could this be sabotage? A prelude to something worse? The faces of the prisoners flashed in her mind. Monte’s fury. Ettore’s unsettling calm, and a chill ran down her spine.

Her breath hitched as she considered the possibilities. The ship wasn’t supposed to fail like this. Not without warning. Not without backup systems kicking in. She reached for the small comms device, fumbling in the darkness, but the screen remained dead.

She was alone, blind, and utterly vulnerable.

Heart pounding in her chest, her hand gripped the door frame of her quarters as she cautiously stepped out into the pitch-black corridor. The darkness was suffocating, every sound amplified, her senses on high alert. She moved quietly, trying to navigate the ship's labyrinth passageways by memory.

The path she was taking should have led her to the guards’ station, but the disorienting blackness made it impossible to be sure. She fought down the rising panic, forcing herself to focus. She couldn’t afford to get lost. Not with people she knew loathed her, possibly lurking about in the adjoined ship.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally stumbled upon the entrance to the guards’ station. Relief washed over her as she pushed open the door, expecting to find safety within. Her foot slipped, and the metallic scent of something deep filled her nose, sharp and acrid. It was only when her foot caught on something soft and unmoving that she stifled a gasp, her hand flying to her mouth to keep from making a sound.

She took a step back, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste to put distance between herself and the grisly reality. Her mind raced, trying to process the horror of it all. How had this happened? Who could have done this?

With trembling hands, she eased herself to the floor, her hand patting over the body of one of the guards until she found her target. The gun felt too large in her hand as she picked it up. The cold weight of the weapon in her grasp was both alien and strangely comforting. She wasn’t trained for this, but she wasn’t about to be caught unarmed.

“WHERE ARE YOU, YOU BITCH?!”

She froze, her breath catching in her throat. The voice was close, too close. And oh so familiar. Her heart thundered in her chest as she gripped the gun tighter, backing up against the wall, her pulse racing. Fear threatened to consume her, but she forced herself to stay calm, to think.

Monte was out there, hunting her.

She could recognize that voice anywhere, the fury behind it unmistakable. He’d gone into her room and discovered she wasn’t there, and now he was hunting her down with a vengeance. Thank God she’d kicked off her shoes. The thought flashed through her mind as she pressed herself against the cold metal wall, her breathing shallow, trying to remain as silent as possible. Without the squeak of her trainers on the floor, she had a chance, however slim, of slipping away unnoticed.

The darkness was both her enemy and her ally. It masked her movements, but it also made every step fraught with the risk of revealing her position. She had no idea where Monte was now, only that he was close, and that his rage was palpable, even through the thick walls of the ship.

Monte’s voice echoed again, closer this time, filled with venom. “WHERE ARE YOU!”

The darkness was suffocating as she crossed into the prison ship, the stale air thick with tension. She prayed Monte wouldn’t think to look for her here. The ship's unfamiliar layout was like a labyrinth of potential traps. Every step felt like it could be her last, each sound amplified in the oppressive silence.

She stumbled into the rec room, her heart pounding against her ribs. She backed up slowly, her senses heightened, straining to catch any sound of Monte’s approach.

And then she heard it, the sound of deliberate footsteps. Monte was getting closer. She couldn’t see him yet, but she knew he was near, racing down the hall towards the rec room, the door luckily closing softly shut to note she had not been near. But all the same, the fear lingered.

Backing up, she collided with something solid. Her first instinct was to scream, but before she could make a sound, a strong hand clamped over her mouth, muffling the cry. She was shoved against the cold metal wall, her back pressed firmly against it as a tall figure loomed over her. Her heart raced, terror surging through her.

“Shh,” he whispered, his breath warm against her cheek.

Ettore.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, the air thick with a tension that was both terrifying and oddly charged. She didn’t dare move, her breath shallow and trembling against his hand. He leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing her ear as he whispered. 

“Stay quiet, and maybe we’ll both make it out of this.”

She nodded slightly, in no position to argue or protest. His voice was a low, dangerous murmur, but there was something almost protective in the way he held her, his body shielding hers from the imminent threat. It was a strange, twisted sense of security, and despite the circumstances, she found herself clinging to it.

Monte stormed into the room, his heavy footsteps echoing through the pitch-black space. The door slammed against the wall, the sound reverberating through the silence. Her entire body tensed, a wave of raw terror gripping her as she pressed herself against the wall, wishing she could melt into it and disappear.

She had never been more scared in her life. The darkness was all-consuming, robbing her of her senses. She couldn’t see Monte, couldn’t gauge his distance or his intentions. All she knew was that he was close, far too close. 

Ettore’s hand remained firmly over her mouth, his grip steady but not harsh. She could feel the rough texture of his palm against her lips, could almost feel the thudding of his own heart against hers, and she fought to keep her breathing steady, her panic threatening to break through. For the first time, she was thankful for the darkness, for the inability to be seen, but it didn’t stop the tears from welling up in her eyes, blurring what little she could make out in the blackness.

Monte’s voice boomed through the room, a raw, violent shout that made her flinch involuntarily. “Where the fuck are you, you bitch? You think you can hide from me?”

Her tears spilled over, silently sliding down her cheeks, and Ettore’s hand, still covering her mouth, felt the wetness. She didn’t know if it was fear, hopelessness, or the sheer weight of the situation crashing down on her, but she couldn’t stop the silent flow.

She tried desperately to make out Ettore’s face, to find some anchor in the overwhelming darkness, but it was impossible. He was just a shadow, a vague outline she could barely discern, his presence more felt than seen.

Monte’s footsteps grew closer, his breathing heavy and erratic as he stalked through the room, searching for her. She could feel Ettore’s grip tighten slightly, a silent reassurance or perhaps a warning to stay silent. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might give them away.

The sound of Monte’s boots scuffing against the floorboards seemed deafening in the darkness. The tension was unbearable, a taut line ready to snap at any moment. Monte cursed under his breath and turned away, his footsteps retreating as he left the room. The door slammed shut behind him, and the oppressive silence that followed was almost worse than his presence. She didn’t dare move, not even to breathe, until she was sure he was gone.

“Jesus…” she whispered in relief when Ettore’s palm dropped from her lips. She expected him to move away, for them to find some way of escape.

But his hand, once firm over her mouth, slowly slid down to her neck, his fingers curling around the sensitive skin, holding her in place. The touch was no longer just about silence, it was possessive, controlling. She could feel his breath against her ear, slow and deliberate, as the tension between them morphed into something darker, more dangerous.

Her heart raced for a different reason now, a confusing mix of fear and something else, something she didn’t want to acknowledge. His other hand moved with a deliberate slowness, tracing the line of her waist before cupping her womanhood through her jeans. She gasped softly, the sound barely escaping her lips, but it was enough to let him know that she was fully aware of his intentions.

In the darkness, with Monte gone, the only thing she could see was his outline, and the only thing she could feel was the slow, purposeful movement of his hands. He held her firmly against the wall, his grip on her neck tightening just enough to remind her who was in control.

His hand applied just enough pressure to make her pulse quicken. "You're shaking," he noted, his tone almost mocking. "Is it fear, or something else?"

She could tell from his tone, he was loving this. Amused by her fear and helplessness. He enjoyed far too much the feeling of having someone’s life and control in his hand. 

"Tell me, are you scared of what I might do? Or are you more afraid of how much you might want it?"

Her breath hitched, the question slicing through her like a knife. After a moment that felt like an eternity, she finally found her voice, though it was barely more than a whisper. “I'm not scared and I don't want you-”

The lie hung heavy in the air between them, and Ettore chuckled darkly, his free hand sliding down her body. He didn't believe her for a second, and she could tell.

His fingers deftly found the button of her jeans, and with a single, practiced motion, he popped it open. “So if I touch you here,” he whispered, his hand sliding beneath, “you won’t be wet?”

All it took was his fingers to dip beneath her underwear, sliding between her folds to collect her arousal on his fingertips, for her to freeze, the realisation dawning darkly that his presence in the darkness, his grip on her, and his words, were all having the effect she wanted least to happen.

She bit her lip, trying to suppress the involuntary reaction that coursed through her as he drifted north to circle her clit with ease.

“You’re not the woman I thought you’d be,” he continued, his tone mocking. “Say you're a professional? You're a fucking liar.”

Once again, she tried to make out his face. Trying to imagine his expression. She was convinced he could somehow see hers as he pushed forward, stretching her hot walls around his fingers to harshly fuck her with his fingers, as if testing the dangerous waters.

Her hand clamped on his wrist. She wanted him to stop. She wanted him to carry on. The darkness was doing her indecision no favours whatsoever, blurring her common sense.

He bruised his body against hers, pinning her even more firmly to the wall. The sound of her moisture clicking against his skin both erotic and a terrifying reminder of how her control had waned.

“Tell me to stop,” he challenged, his voice low, a whisper that curled around her like smoke. “But you won’t, will you?”

Her voice came a shaky whisper, an attempt to grapple back that sense of self she felt was swiftly slipping. But her tone betrayed the conflict raging inside her. “You…don't know me-” she strained to say, wincing as she felt the rough pads of his fingers brush the front of her walls.

She felt his breath, amused against her face. Ettore’s response was a low, mocking chuckle. “Maybe not,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, “but I know enough.”

Her whine was low as his fingers left her, but her heart stuttered in place when he rolled her jeans over her hips, taking her underwear with it. His knee harshly nudged her legs apart so she couldn't close them, before moving his sweatpants down just enough, his breath hot against her neck, where his palm still pressed.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He knew enough about her to know that at this moment, she wouldn't stop him. Perhaps, couldn't. If she even tried. She choked air out her lungs when his chest pressed against hers, one hand pulling her leg over his hip to angle her up.

And the sharp pang of panic when she felt the blunt head of his cock press into her. She felt herself starting to say ‘no’, but all words died on her lips as she felt him stretch her open on his length, disappearing inside her with barely a sound of his own.

It was sharp and biting, the pain initially. If it could have been called foreplay, none of it had really been for her in any case, so she felt every inch of him. And she winced, eyes pressing shut when his pace was immediately brutal, snapping against her hips with commanding intensity.

All she could do was press her fingernails into his arm, try and share some pain with him in some twisted way. That's the only sound he made, was a low groan, his grip around her throat tightening to feel the rapid thrum of her pulse.

She hated it. Hated giving him this…sick sense of control over her. Knowing that he would be much too proud and one track minded to stop until he'd come, she thought, get it over with.

She clenched around him, hard. Wanting him to lose it himself and just finish what he started. And when she felt his breath catch, she smirked in victory, until his hand raised to her face, pushing her head harshly back, her jaw anchored in his grip.

“No you don't, you fucking bitch,” he breathed, low and dangerous in a way that made her heart freeze. “Think you can rush me?”

The smirk that had momentarily crossed her lips vanished as she realised how deeply she had miscalculated. Ettore wasn’t going to simply take what he wanted and be done. He was going to make her feel every second of it, make her pay for that brief moment of defiance.

“You’re going to come on my dick, and when you do, you’ll sound pathetic. Just like you are.”

It was fucking annoying, was all she thought, that when he renewed his pace to borderline erratic, the pain ebbed into sharp pleasure. The hand that held her leg around his waist drifted inwards, clumsily circled her clit, too quickly and firmly to feel entirely pleasurable, but just enough combined with his relentless assault to send her spiralling.

Her breath hitched, and she felt the tears prick at the corners of her eyes, more from frustration and rage than anything else. He could feel it too, how close she was to breaking, how her body betrayed her resolve. Ettore revelled in it, every small tremble, every shaky breath, feeding his twisted need to dominate.

He pressed her sensitive bundle of nerves like he hated her, and it was enough to send a full body shudder from the top of her spine right through her core. He only let out a breath of smug relief feeling her walls clamp him in, tending uncontrollably around him.

The room was silent except for the harsh breaths they both struggled to catch. The darkness around her seemed to close in, the only light left in the room the fading stars behind her vision. As the reality of what had just happened began to set in, she felt Ettore’s body still against hers, the warmth of him inside her chasing away the numbness that had momentarily overtaken her.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, with a surge of disgust and anger, she pushed against his chest, forcing him away from her. Her hands trembled as she scrambled to right her clothes, feeling hot in her chest with shame. Ettore staggered back, and she could practically feel his smug grin in the darkness. He adjusted himself with a deliberate slowness, clearly savouring the moment. His breathing was still laboured, but there was an unmistakable air of satisfaction surrounding him.

“No use fighting it,” he murmured, amusement seeping into every word.

She scoffed, her hands fumbling with the buttons of her jeans. “Dick,” she muttered under her breath, the word laced with a mix of anger and frustration.

Ettore’s smirk only deepened, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Call me what you want. You know I’m the only one who can get you through this. You need me. Whether you like it or not.”

The emergency lights flickered on, casting a dim, flickering glow over the room. The sudden illumination was a relief, pulling her back from the suffocating grip of darkness. She could finally see again, the oppressive void around her receding. The sight of Ettore standing there, so smug and composed, sent a wave of shame crashing over her. Disgust curled in her stomach, twisting alongside a sick sense of arousal she couldn’t fully suppress.

But like a cold slap to the face, she knew Monte was still out there, stalking the ship, hunting her down. And now, with the lights on, it would be easier for him to find her. |It was a jolt, reigniting the fear she had momentarily pushed aside amidst the dull haze of thrumming pleasure. 

Ettore seemed to sense her shift in focus, his smirk fading into something more serious. "He’s not far," he said, his voice low and measured. “Stick with me. I know a quick way back.”

She didn’t respond, her mind racing. The thought of Monte finding her now, after everything, sent a fresh wave of terror through her. As much as she despised the idea, as much as she loathed Ettore for what he'd done, he was her best chance at survival. But how could she, with everything she knew and everything she had just experienced, possibly trust him?

Was the onus on her? For allowing him to do what he did? For the way she had let him touch her, for the strange, conflicted sensations she had felt?

Before she could dwell on it further, Ettore yanked her forcefully, snapping her back to the present. They had to move quickly. The urgency in his grip was impossible to ignore, and in the rush, she realised too late that she had forgotten to feel for her gun.

They hurried through the narrow corridors, the cold metal walls echoing with the distant sounds of chaos. When they finally reached the entrance to her team’s ship, he pulled her inside with a final, rough tug. Panting, she glanced around the familiar interior of the vessel, trying to steady herself. Ettore didn’t waste a moment.

“Do you have the authority to access the emergency autopilot system?” he asked, his voice sharp, cutting through the haze of fear and confusion.

She hesitated for just a second. “Yes, but what about everyone else? We can’t just leave them.”

“There’s no time,” he shot back, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach drop. “Monte’s not going to stop until he finds you, and when he does, you’re dead. We need to get off this ship now.”

Her hands shook as she moved toward the control panel, the reality of the situation weighing heavily on her. She could feel Ettore’s gaze on her, urging her to move faster, to make the choice she knew she had to make. The ship’s systems roared to life, as did the alarms, signalling their imminent departure from the prison ship. For a brief, harrowing moment, she could hear Monte’s voice echoing through the corridor, filled with rage, mingling with the desperate shouts of others. But then the door hissed shut, sealing them off from the chaos outside.

Ettore was already behind her, his presence looming, suffocating in the small space. “Control Room. Now,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. Panic surged through her, her mind racing as she obeyed, her steps hurried and frantic. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t process the fact that a dangerous criminal was now alone with her on her ship. Panic pushed her forward instead. Primal and urgent.

Once there, her mind scrambled for any option, any way to get the ones who wanted to return to Earth safely off the prison ship. “We can’t just leave them behind,” she stammered, turning, desperation clear in her voice. “There are others who want to return-”

Her blood ran cold as she whipped back at him, he stood tall, almost proud, holding a gun to her face. A brief, fleeting thought roared through her mind that she doubted it was loaded, but she dare not entertain it right now. Not when fear gripped her ribs. 

Her own gun. She knew the second she went to feel for it. 

He’d stolen it during her moment of weakness.

Ettore smirked, his expression infuriatingly smug. “No hard feelings,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery.

Her heart raced with a potent mix of anger and terror. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She had come here with the intention of doing good, of offering these people a chance at redemption or at least a fair trial. And now, what had she done? She’d left behind an entire ship of prisoners, all so she could be trapped here, alone, with him.

She stared at Ettore, her mind swirling with a thousand conflicting emotions. The anger bubbling up inside her was nearly as strong as the fear. How had it come to this? How had she let herself be so easily manipulated, so trapped?

“Here’s how this is going to work,” he said, his tone all business now, as if he were discussing a simple transaction. “You’re going to take me back to Earth, and when we get there, you’re going to make sure I live a nice, cushy life. No more cells, no more guards, just freedom. I’m sure a smart woman like you can figure out how to make that happen.”

She opened her mouth to protest, to argue, but the cold, unyielding barrel of the gun in his hand kept her silent.

“And in return,” he continued, his eyes darkening with a twisted sort of pleasure, “we’ll have some fun on the way back. You’ll make sure of that too, won’t you?” 

Anger and fear warred within her, but the sharp edge of reality kept her from saying anything that might push him further. She felt utterly trapped, forced into a role she never imagined she’d play. The man in front of her was dangerous, and there was no telling what he would do if she refused.

Ettore’s smirk softened, just a little, as if he could sense her internal struggle. “You’re smart. You know what the right choice is.” 

She wanted to scream, to cry out in frustration and fear. A dark, violent urge flared within her, the impulse to bash him over the head, to kill him and be done with it. But here, alone in the vastness of space, without the guards or anyone else to enforce order, who would hear her? Truly hear her? Her fury would echo into the void, and she would still be utterly and entirely, alone.

His voice was a soft, poisonous whisper. “So, what’s it going to be, little lawyer?”

General Taglist: @1lluminaticonfirmed @aemondsfavouritebastard @all-for-aemond @bellstwd @blackswxnn

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[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Fic Title ask game ✨

Deftones edition 🤭

• Cherry Waves

• Diamond Eyes

Cherry Waves - an Aemond x Velaryon OC fic. They're on opposite sides during the dance - genuine enemies to lovers to enemies again type scenario. We love a doomed by the narrative romance.

Diamond Eyes - An Ettore fic - I'd write a psychologist into the crew for the ship and the fic would centre around their sessions together.

Send me a fic title ask game

[thought--bubble]

Yep! That's him.

Insanely hot and insanely..... well.... insane.

Thanks for reading sweetness!

Kitty Cat Part 3 (Revised)

Ettore X OFC

Warnings after the break

Kitty Cat Master list

Ettore Master List

Full Master list

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings:: Ettore, Male Masturbation, heavy petting, dubcon. Sexual themes and references.

You stood nearly still the only movement being your head nuzzling into ettores chest. His breathing getting harsher, and his grip on your hair was tightening.

His body feels solid but warm. He has pressed his entire frame up against yours. The pressure of which you revel in .

"You bastard! Let her go!" Came Boyse's angry voice from the doorway.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to help yourself!" She seethed as she ran over prying the two of you apart.

She turned towards you and rubbed your cheek.

"Are you OK kitty?

You nuzzle her hand with a small smile on your face.

She looked at Ettore with a fire burning in her eyes as he looked back at her with a face of indifference.

"She rubbed up against me." He shrugged and quickly left the room.

"You can't get that close to him, kitty. He's dangerous." She pulls you close to her and strokes the back of your hair.

You shrug and rub your face into Boyses shoulder. The pressure and warmth keeping you calm and grounded.

I want to get close to him again.

You don't know why, but from then on, you were trying to get close to Ettore, but you never could with the great wall of Boyse blocking your path at every turn.

You could tell Ettore was getting frustrated as he was trying to get close to you, too. He would get behind you in line for food, but Boyse would slip in between you. He would stand behind you in excercises, but Boyse would grab you and switch places, and since that laundry assignment, you and Ettore had not been assigned together again.

Weeks passed like this, and you had all but given up on trying to get to Ettore instead, focusing on keeping Boyse happy.

Boyse is the priority

On a particularly restless night, you lie in your bunk surrounded by the snores of the other girls as you stare at the bunk above you and rub your cheek on your shoulder.

Time moves too slow up here.

You have spent a lot of nights like this. Unable to sleep, the cold of the sheets on your body gave you anxiety. The hardness of what they called a mattress that you laid on making sleep a difficult thing to achieve.

As you continue to lay there, you feel a presence. Like a cold chill has swept through the room, the little hairs throughout your body standing at full attention. You lazily roll your head towards the doorway, and you see him. He's ever so silently standing there staring at you, rubbing his hand up and down his stomach slowly. He moves from his upper chest down to below his belly button before returning to his chest, to follow the motion all over again.

Come closer

You stare back at him and bring your hand to your face, and gentlt rub it against your cheek. He watches you with his mouth hanging open while he drops his hand slowly but with purpose into his sleep shorts.

You can see that his hand is moving rapidly , and you watch him, an unrecognizable want growing in your chest as you continue nuzzling into your own hand. Your eyes stay connected the entire time. There is something so strange yet so sensual in the way that you and Ettore can speak to each other without words. Eventually, he bites his bottom lip and grunts quietly before swiftly turning on his heel and walks away. You watch him walk until he is out of sight. That yearning in your chest is growing ever deeper.

Why did you go?

Your eyes travel back up to the underside of the bunk above you. Sleep is even harder to achieve since you are now left with a burning in between your thighs you don't recognize.

Ettore

You don't typically speak, butnevennif you did, you dont think that you would tell anyone about your late night visit from Ettore.

The next morning, you had an inspection by dibs, the aftermath of which had you moving very slowly due to the pain. You had never been poked and prodded this much in your life prior to boarding this ship. Especially in the area she prods.

Due to your odd behavior, you had difficulty forming normal relationships back on earth before your sentence. You've never had a boyfriend or even been kissed. So, for you, Dibs' inspections felt especially violent.

You shuffle your way to the cafeteria and look for Boyse. You're not hungry but are in desperate need of comfort. Your eyes float around the cafeteria. It's basically empty. No Boyse in sight. You see Monte sitting at one table and Ettore sitting at another.

Where is she?

You can't go to Monte. He always shoves you away when you try to make contact with him, and if you go to Ettore, Boyse might explode. You hear that familiar rushing return to your ears as you start making a whining sound and rub your face roughly against your shoulder.

Make it stop, make it stop

This causes Ettore to look up at you. A little half smirk crawls up his face as he looks around the cafeteria. A twinkle clear as day in his eye as he seems to have come to the same realization as you. No, Boyse. While this caused you great stress and anxiety, it seemed to bring a large smile to Ettore's face.

He stands in a rush, discarding his tray. He makes it a point to rub up against you as he passes. Making it seem as if he had to squeeze by. When his body comes into contact with yours, you whimper audibly.

With a small smirk on his face, he goes to exit the cafeteria. He stops in the doorway and turns around, his eyes catching yours.

He raises his hand and makes a come hither motion and very quietly says, "Come kitty".

You follow him out of the cafeteria, your feet carrying you as if you were connected to an invisible leash that Ettore was dragging behind him.

He reaches the metal ladder that leads to the box and gestures towards it "go down the ladder"

Yes

You instantly comply.

As soon as you reach the bottom and get off the ladder, it feels as if your stomach is suddenly filled to the brim with ice.

You hear the light patter of Ettores' feet as they hit each wrung of the ladder as he decends.

When he hits the bottom, you look at him with wide eyes as he decends upon you, quickly backing you up into the wall. He presses his body up against you tightly and immediately starts to shove his hand into your scrub bottoms.

Ow, ow what are you doing?

You let out a whining noise and try to move away when he brings his other hand up to your face. Gently brushing his fingers against your cheek.

"Shhh, kitty, shh," he whispers into your ear.

You feel your body begin to relax, and you nuzzle into his hand. He uses his knee to push your legs apart and quickly shoves his other hand into your underwear and into your heat.

He lets out a deep sigh into your ear once his hand reaches its destination. You continue nuzzling into his hand, purring lightly all the while. You show him no resistance.

"This is perfect," he whispers as he starts to pull your scrub bottoms down with the hand he had just had in your heat while simultaneously continuing to rub your face with the other.

Just then, you can hear that someone has started to decend the ladder. Ettore pulls your scrub bottoms back up quickly and backs away from you.

Don't go

You take a step towards Ettore, and he glares at you freezing you in your tracks.

Tchemy reaches the bottom of the ladder and jumps back when he notices you and Ettore standing there. He briefly looks between the two of you and then continues making his way to the box.

Ettore quickly makes his way back up the ladder, not casting you a second glance. Leaving you confused for a moment before making your way back up the ladder.

You start down the hallway looking for Ettore. It seems he has all but vanished.

Come back

"Kitty! There you are!" Boyses voice rings down the hallway.

You turn and see her coming towards you and you start to move quickly towards her.

"Hey how did your inspection go?" She says gently rubbing your cheek.

You make a light whimpering noise and nuzzle roughly into her hand.

"That bad, huh?" Boyse says softly.

"It's ok, kitty, come lay down." Boyse takes your hand and leads you back to the room that you share with the other female inmates.

"Lay down and rest. Movement makes it worse," she says, looking at you with a solemn expression on her face.

It's always worse

You lay down and look up at the bunk above you and close your eyes, and all you can see are the sparkling blue eyes of Ettore staring back at you.

You make a whimpering sound and whisper too low for Boyse to hear you.

"This is perfect"

A/N : for the one person who messaged me on this fic. I know he is a bad person. I am not justifying his actions, I write about what I want, and almost no one is reading this fic. Lol, let me be!

Part 4

To be added to taglist click here

[dodofour]

This was an OC question prompt I filled out for fun in the discord

01. Oldest OC: My oldest OC is a black wolf named Galar. She has purple boot markings and usually stained with blood. She was actually a side character to a larger story that has long since been scrapped.

02. Newest OC: My newest oc is an unnamed witch from a story I have about magic, fantastical creatures and the scientific world coexisting in one place.

03. Favorite OC: My favorite original character answer at some point easily would have been either Sharu or Lamis, with Fifi coming close behind, but at any given moment I usually have one or two ocs I'm particularly infatuated with and couldn't be for sure.

04. Favorite OC Design: My favorite design I've done that I still own is Scarlet, a "foxpixie"(original species). His design is simple and pleasing to me without being unnatural.

05. Main Reason For Making OCs: Self expression, connecting with others by creating characters that harbor relatable aspects of myself, and just the challenge of it.

06. Character Creation Process: World > Vague Archetype > Vague Appearance > Refining Character Traits > Refining Appearance > Complete Character

07. Do You Ship Your OCs W/ Someone Else's: Romantically, not at the moment, but I wouldn't be opposed to it if I thought the characters would make a good match beyond just their aesthetics

08. Fav OC Ship?: Sharu x Chotsea favorite. Runnerups Taka x Scarlet, and Dusty x Fifi though those two make the best friends already.

09. Weirdest OC: Currently I believe Adek would have to be weirdest. They're a nervous wreck who just as easily switches and finds unwavering confidence as they take different forms while shapeshifting.

10. Villain OCs: Pelona the plant. He is redeemable to a point but his self hatred governs all his actions and he commits terrible acts against those around him in order to isolate himself. Then he turns into an uncontrollable mass of hatred. So yeah, him.

11. Would You Consider Yourself Nice To Your OCs: My older ones, yes. My newer ones, not so much. They go through much more pain.

12. An OC You've Killed (If You Haven't Killed Anyone, Who Would You Kill?): Pelona dies at the end of their story and comes back as a sad, small plant with no semblance of consciousness so I guess that counts. I have multiple alternate endings to Scarlet's story, where the character Muldoon can die in one of them, his loyal knight Ettore along with him.

13. Are Any Of Your OCs Parents: Yes, a few of my cantin OCs are parents (Ixias, Nelif and Paraiba). Sharu and Chotsea were once going to be parents but I undid that.

14. Are There Any OCs You Find Yourself Neglecting: Absolutely. I have neglected all the humanoid OCs in my "solarwitch" world for years. I also neglect most of my OCs made from 2014-2018. I still love them though.

15. An OC That's Difficult To Write/Draw/RP: Dorothy the skunk/cow hybrid has been unnaturally difficult for me to write any backstory for, let alone draw. I don't RP.

16. Tallest And Shortest OCs: Going by relative height to other developed (fully grown) characters in their worlds; CG, Yuuma. Fairy Queen, Periwinkle. As for OCs with no specific universe, Chotsea or Under might be the tallest, Fudgey is the smallest.

17. Oldest and Youngest OCS: Tellstruths and an unnamed dragonfly are ancient in age, while Clauze is the youngest developed OC I have. All are from the Redgrass world

18. Do You Dislike Any Of Your OCs: Dolores is an OC I made my sona as a joke as he is very unlike me. He's high strung and doesn't get along with my other sonas. Therefore he is the closest to disliked, though even then I can't really dislike any of my characters since I made them.

19. Have You Ever Made A Self Insert: I assume this is referring specifically to making a fancharacter for a piece of media that is supposed to represent myself if I were in said world. None come to mind.

20. An OC Regret: I don't give enough love to my OCs and that is regrettable. A design I regret making maybe? I don't have one...

21. An OC You Didn't Expect To Be Popular: Speagle. I knew kidcore stuff was popular but I didn't think people would like him enough to be downloading his pics to put in moodboards and adding him to their kin tags. As for a more recent example, Marbol was more well received than I thought he would be for a little green gremlin thing, so that was nice.

22. An OC You Didn't Expect To Love: I expect to love any OC I design to keep, but Adek in particular was just so silly to begin with I didn't think I'd be so attached to him. His name literally used to be obscenities bc of how much of a joke he was. He's stupid and a scaredy cat and I have a special soft spot for him now.

[fan-goddess]

Fic authors self rec!

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 🩷

Thank you @anjelicawrites and @the-common-cowgirl for tagging me in this it means a lot 🩷 And sorry for waiting so long to post

1) Not his wife - (Aegon Targaryen x reader) An anon request for jealous Aegon that I actually enjoyed writing and think I got a good flow with

2) I remember you - (Aemond Targaryen x reader/sorta oc vibes) It’s got soft Aemond which I loved writing and him being simp is so cute. Though I wrote this at a time when I didn’t know know to get around the whole having no name thing without having y/n so that’s a whole thing so she gotta Valyrian name even though she’s from (I wanna say crownlands?)

3) The death of a life - (Aemond targaryen x reader) This was my first ever request and I was so proud how this turned out! This was again written when I didn’t know how to write out a name so if you see old comments with Daena that’s why 😅

4) Ten Things I Hate About You - (Ettore x reader) My baby. My first series. Was meant to be a oneshot but was encouraged to make more and loved how it turned out! Finishing it was a heartbreaker

5) I can't think of a 5th 😅