#he's showing her around the tower
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echosong971 · 2 years ago
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lil sketchie of Akaramis and @character-therapy's boi Wattz-17
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arolesbianism · 1 year ago
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I recently decided to semi revive some of my crusty dusty splatoon ocs from when I was like 12, so here’s all of the goobers! Meet Cherry (she/her), Slosh (he/they), Egg (they/them), and Blast (she/they)
#keese draws#splatoon#splatoon oc#inkling#inkling oc#octoling#octoling oc#since they were from me being like 12 I. barely remember anything abt them.#I remember the most abt cherry and slosh but that basically amounts to their names and gender#the other two I only rember existing through vibes lol#anyways! I am never drawing splatoon weapons again! holy shit that fucking sucked!#on the bright side I got to mess around a bit with some hair style concepts I’ve been rotating in my head#also I’m still working on giving these guys an updated story but my basic idea is that they’re a professional tower control team that has#been facing some conflicts as of late due to them all getting old enough to start having aspirations outside of their team#cherry is from the domes but her parents left with her when she was around 10#blast went to the same school as her and the two became pretty close friends as selective mute buddies#then at some point cherry caught wind of this cool new sport called tower control and was like woahhh I wanna do that#so she just went up to the first person near the battle lobby she could find and was like hey how do I join?#and he got super excited since he has a reputation for being incapable of shutting up so someone willing coming up to him came as a shock#they showed her where to get weapons and how to join battles and the two became battle buddies real quick#this lead to blast getting super worried and anxious as she didn’t want to see her only friend get hurt or stolen from her#at which point cherry was like oh I know! why don’t you come battle with us?#and blast was like wait wait wait no what if I die and dont come back and then die again :[#they managed to come to a compromise for a while tho and eventually blast was able to just barely squish past her fear enough to start#being kind of interested in tower control as she had started watching the other two play#and while she was still anxious abt the idea eventually she sheepishly admitted she wanted to give it a try#and she ended up really liking it! so the three kept playing together#and eventually they started to feel more and more like an actual team and egg noticed#they had been scouting a team to join for a lil while now and after getting to play with the three quite a few times and getting on friendly#terms with them they were like hey what if we became like an actual team who do tournaments and stuff
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bumblingbabooshka · 2 years ago
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Having Nonbinary Sapphic Tuvok Brainrot Lately…
You're the realest motherfucker on planet Earth and I hope you know that.
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Here's a bunch of bullshit I doodled on the topic of Nonbinary Sapphic Tuvok !!!! And I HOPE you will share YOUR personal brainrot with the class (my ask box, the masses, a text post....whatever gets the word out.) If you've been paying attention you KNOW I love a 'Tuvok discovers he's trans while in the delta quadrant' story Guy who likes girls and has always liked girls...but....not in the same way OTHER guys seem to like girls... Tuvok who never quite fit in with 'other' men even Vulcan men...always preferred spending time with women and girls but never felt precisely LIKE a woman or OVERLY uncomfortable with being identified as a man and Vulcan society doesn't seem like it would be heavily gendered so he never really questioned it seriously. Tuvok who found comfort in titles like Husband and Father...those fit, those are good. Then in the delta quadrant he isn't able to be a husband or a father any more and is just some guy surrounded by humans...hmmmmmm....
Still doesn't really seriously think it's worth questioning or exploring his gender identity (partially out of a desire to return home as he left...what will his wife and children think? He's experienced a LOT of sudden change in regards to his personal identity and life, he doesn't really want to undergo more.) until Seven of Nine comes along and also begins to go through a "Questioning Her Gender" arc. Tuvok thinks about it on his own time for a long time and then finally goes to Janeway for support and assistance and together they spend like SEVERAL months just the two of them seeing what this whole gender thing's about. Tuvok slowly exploring expressing himself in a more feminine manner because he's spent his whole life adhering rigidly to one sort of Look. Unexpectedly struggles with anxiety about this. Neelix: Don't be nervous Ms. Vulcan! Tuvok: [nervous] I am not nervous. Tuvok and Seven BOTH exploring masculinity/femininity and their own nonbinary gender identities...late night slumber par- experimentation. Painting each others nails is...very scientific. It's important. Talking with Janeway was good because she's his friend but talking with Seven, another person actively questioning their gender is....well, it's something else.
#Tom: Tuvok?#Tuvok: [towering over him in Seven's heels] Yes Mr. Paris?#Tom: I'm gonna kill you.#anon I hope you know I was in the middle of a completely different drawing and IMMEDIATELY stopped it to answer this#some people wait literally weeks for me to re ply to their things but sapphic nonbinary tuvok??? he gets top billing#Tuvok is SO gender he's EVERY gender and Ilove him for it#Tuvok is a trans man a trans woman nonbinary genderfluid a secret thing etc etc etc infinitely#T'Pel finally sees Tuvok again says 'you've changed' and he stiffens and goes 'yes...'#then she extends her hand out towards him and they kiss. 'yet this remains the same' she says/assures him#st voyager#Q&A#trans Tuvok#your commanding officer shows up out of nowhere one day with a beautiful bust and no comment on said bust wdyd#love thinking about nonbinary tuvok...not only nonbinary but also an alien who doesn't have the same concepts/ingrained markers of gender#Also sorry let's make this about something SO specific to me for a second but one of my personal little fantasies is#trans femme Tuvok/Neelix and man...I don't...even know if I can really explain it#something about Neelix makes me think he'd be like 'That's no way to speak around a lady!!' (scolding The Boyztm) and Tuvok would sigh#or whatever but internally she'd be charmed....she be faking like she don't have a crush but she does....she likeshiiim....#SORRY. AS IF IT'S MY FAULT?????#anyway....I hope this was.........any thing. I hope this was literally ANYTHING.#anon#bee doodles#oh another is trans femme Tuvok x Janeway but that's mostly onesided angst on Janeway's part (delicious)
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magnusmodig · 6 months ago
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||. thor misunderstanding earthen housing norms in the modern day is SO funny to me to think about. He's doing his best, but between being from another planet with far more advanced technology (and much more "archaic" culture customs) on top of also being a PRINCE, I would imagine some normal practices and understandings of things simply don't click with him more than others.... Not because he's not smart. Thor is incredibly intelligent. ONLY because of the huge culture divide. But... that said: the concept of having neighbors who own their own land right next to yours, but the plots of land are TINY ??? absolutely crazy to him. Why aren't the plots of land BIGGER? why don't more people utilize it to farm crops???
Also don't get him STARTED on the idea - or nature of - apartments.
#(it's just— i'm realizing that living with jan.e fo//st.e.r would have taught him SO much??)#(i can imagine him questioning everything about /everything/ on occasion...)#(just... ja/.ne and th.o/r chilling around breakfast and he decides he's got a severe case of the toddler why's)#(he's curious about a common practice and wants to understand the logic of it— who better to make it make sense than his beloved)#(even something as basic as a house key. why does he NEED that? he's never needed a “house key” for his palace)#(he can just /walk in/??? ask the guards to open the doors??? use a biometric lock??? )#(— ah but is the “house key” for a secret compartment perhaps? a hidden passage? a secret chest???)#(what's the house key for if not for something particularly worthwhile??? it's so archaic ?? it must be very old.)#(what??? it was made yesterday??? It actually /IS/ for the front door????)#(what do you /mean/ you haven't got guards or sentries and the po-lice can't offer THEIR services with compensation)#(the avenger's tower does it??? shield does it???? he thought that would be normal for earth houses???)#(he doesn't see how that's supposed to keep j.a//ne safe all that well >> he's decided he's going to fix /that/ first thing.)#(granted: i doubt he'd actually ask or comment most of this out loud but it'd likely be what he's thinking)#(anyways he wouldn't /use/ the key when he has a balcony they can just keep unlocked so he can get in from there)#(and he'd probably have a similar setup on the avengers tower)#(it isn't as though anyone will reach it from up so high. he can fly. it'll be fine.)#(furthermore ...... he'd probably break his house keys....)#(...always on accident tho.... he'd want to keep his house key from ja.n//e safe bc it's from her)#( ooc . ) — stories that leap from the page .#(i'm mostly rambling my thoughts out loud - this would make a really cute domestic fos.ter/s//on fic)#(someone write this and then show me)#(or maybe i'll do it idk)
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toastedjeans · 7 months ago
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Really interested in your siren au, just curious but would Peppino or Gustavo find a way to turn into a human or a merman?
I didn't plan too much with the au tbh but no, Pep and Gus stay how they are
But! What i did think about (and this is inspired by someone else's post, i just forgot who said it), is that Siren Noise finds some artifact like a crown or a necklace that can turn humans temporarily into sea creatures as long as they're wearing it. And he gifts it to Noisette, turning her into a mermaid :)
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kasiobite03 · 1 year ago
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one day there's going to be a painting in the bottom floor of bobby's tower and i will die
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mysticarcanum · 2 years ago
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straight up getting emotional about a thing that happened in a campaign that ended over a year ago
like. i wrote an ambiguous and biased backstory of a character who is part of an apocalyptic world-ending cult, who deep down wanted to study wizardry but had to frame it as going undercover as an apprentice and stealing secrets from this doddering old archmage to aid her people’s cause . and then she goes and learns wizardry and eventually realizes she wants more for herself and breaks from her cult
and i mean. there’s a lot of ways my dm could have run with that. i was fully expecting that archmage to be furious at my character for lying to and stealing from him. and so when they ran into each other again, i was braced for a fight, or at least an altercation
but instead the archmage went. i knew all along. of course i knew. i’m a divination wizard, silly. i saw a young woman in a bad place and i wanted to help her. i thought that by showing her kindness and creating an environment for her that wasn’t all about power struggles and nihilistic fanaticism that she might realize that there was more out there in the world for her. that she deserved more. you didn’t steal secrets from me, because i gave them to you. i was your teacher. i loved you and love you still
and god i didn’t know where that character was going to end up before then. i thought maybe she could go on a typical wizard hubris spiral, or a revenge quest against her old cult, but in that moment i was like. oh. she is loved. she has new friends, new family. she has a reason to change, a reason to care. her story is just about love, and about making people’s lives better
her alignment shifted from neutral to neutral good soon after. she never stopped being curious, sometimes to the point of foolishness, but she never squandered her teacher’s gift. she left the world better than she found it
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abimee · 1 year ago
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also the main gist is that the three soulbonded meet a small group of researchers at the base of a tower they call the crystal tower and are trying to research it, when the group say that a mysterious magician named amon cursed them to share souls a researcher name graha claims that it would be impossible for that to have been the True amon, as he had died in the end of the allag empire centuries ago, but cant put it out of the question that Someone claiming to be amon has cursed them. The group say they had tried stopping amon who was chasing a girl, who is found by the encampment later bearing uncanny resemblance to the palmira doll, Minfillia. She claims her name is Ryne and she has no recollection of events beyond being chased by a strange magician who offered to help her, and has no clue where she came from. The group decide that the only way to figure out for sure what is going on, and who this mysterious so-called Amon is, is to go into the crystal tower and search for the magician himself, which leads down a winding path of mystery and discovery that nobody is prepared for
#one of the aspects is that ryne graha and after meeting her gaia all have a strange crest on their hands#graha claims its a crest to show one carries royal allagan blood in them but neither ryne or gaia shows any ability controlling#the tower and grahas thesis was entirely limited and based strictly on himself#because when he lived on corvos(?) he was the only one with this mark and it was considered cursed#later amon (REAL) claims hes seen that crest borne on the hand of the doll that brought forth the calamity as it walked across the land#but that still doesnt explain why graha has it even though you later find out gaia and rynes souls were consumed by the doll#well. gaias was. ryne was already there because she was the minfillia that brought the eve of disaster#and her mind was wiped afterwards of all events so she is essentially the palmira doll living amongst the people#and it only gets rekindled when she (on accident) has gaias soul consumed into the doll in a crystal expedition#amon wishes to use this doll as a means for his research but could never obtain it as the doll itself has been said to have disappeared#and all thats left is ryne who is attached to the doll#it all comes back around to how souls work with the doll and hence why he was testing cloning without and with souls#basically to see if it would be possible to clone the palmira doll and just insert any soul into it#they wonder if amon didnt Make the doll despite it being said to be allag technology then Who Did#but he refuses to answer. anyway its emet#brodie was ascian shenaniging some stuff backstage and made the doll and hydaelyn got control of it during the eve of disaster#and sent the doll to another universe. which comes back around when graha has to stand off against amon at the towers center#and while gaia and ryne are transformed into palmira dolls he has to use his crest to Do Something and he doesnt know What or How#but before amon can successfuly pull his little doll stunt graha is suddenly not in the tower but in a field somewhere#with minfillia (REAL) standing over him and in the distance is a building silhouette that looks like the crystal tower#but she claims that this is the time he needs to save#anyway
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potatoesandsunshine · 2 years ago
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'anna you're relentlessly bullying this fictional man' yeah that's because he sucks
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iamthescalesofjustice · 2 years ago
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had a locked tomb dream in which one of gideons lowkey-only-bc-she-glosses-over-it-in-her-narration powers was teleportation as in she fucking kept teleporting and didnt seem to notice or think it was weird and when people called her on it she was like ‘yeah its called flash-stepping i read about it in some ancient-ass comic books i dug up in a back corner of the library on the ninth’ and everyone is like ‘???’ bc she says its not a necromantic technique bc everyone who did in it the ‘comic books’ (only the sixth know what manga is) she read was a warrior and most of them used swords so clearly its a secret advanced cav technique. and, she says, its not like it uses any spooky necro stuff, its ‘just a matter of honing yourself until you can move really fast’ so it might look like ‘teleportation’ to all of them but clearly that just shows that she got really good at it and is better than all of their fancy smancy ‘properly trained’ cavs. anyway, it turns out that using flashstep as the framework is the only reason why its been short line-of-sight bursts for her until now, once the penny drops she can straight up pop between planets. also she at one point mentions how ‘the wind’ roars really loudly in her ears while doing it and it turns out thats the sounds of the feral river ghosts bc she is, and i cannot stress this enough, constantly taking brief dips into the river. 
#also this time canaan house was derailed by a teleportation accident and they all ended up in bayou country#which in my brain was only at like. somewhat apocalyptic levels of having rotted and been reclaimed by nature rather than 10k years worth#i assume my brain drew some l4d connection here bc gideon ended up stealing a white suit from a dusty wedding store which didnt quite#achieve the full tower prince look but which did passably reach 'nick l4d cosplay' a#also yes the rest of the planet was still pretty haunted. not canaan house mad science lab levels of haunted but it was definitely#more active of a haunting by which i mean there were zombies and creatures and ghosts and during the first of the regular possession checks#that the canaan house crew ended up instituting after a few incidents it was discovered that gideon and harrow#were both possessed at least a little by wake and alecto respectively and possibly counted as being lyctors bc like. gideon just by existin#had ended up tying wakes soul to the conglomerate pile of earth-ghost souls that constituted johns lyctorhood with alecto and that by#maing a connection to harrow like she did alecto also tied harrow into the same. when john showed up towards the end he defended his#sabotage of other attempts at lyctorhood outside the technique defined and oushed at canaan house as being bc it gets 'way too complicated#and messy (both necromanticly & in terms of personal drama & trying to keep track of who is where) to allow multiple bodies running around#as part of the same soul network#also to escape the first gids had to take everyone one by one to the ninth#bc its the only other planet shes been on and thus knows how to get to#and 1) everyone is like damn yall live like this? 2) the secrets of the ninth are exposed to the whole canaan crew by this 3) everyone is#severely adversely affected by going through the river like this and gideon is mostly like 'dont be a baby lmao just walk it off'#4) yes its still cytheria and yes she is having the time of her goddamn life. whatever the fuck is going on with *gestures at the ninth* is#both something shes possibly the only one equipped to fully understand how insane it is and also revealing to her so much about potential#ways to kill john that she is just rolling with it despite the fact that dulcie latched ontoher when gideon took her through the river and#is fully attempting to possess her with the full support of the sixth
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wintergrofyuri · 5 months ago
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"(blank) hates laios!" WRONG WRONG WRONG. SHUT THE FUCK UP
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shuro is just as awkward as laios and it is made So clear he considers him a friend and likes him. he defends him when the canaries start talking shit and actively readies himself to physically fight them so they dont get to him.
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namari also likes laios. she respects him as a leader and also defends him and readies to fight the canaries.
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ive not actually seen anyone claim izutsumi hates laios, but a lot of ppl Are weird abt them. izutsumi and laios' relationship was rocky at the beginning. he struggled to figure out how to interact with her. but by the end, she actively seeks him out to talk with during the lead up to the feast. she hides behind him when falin wakes up. she has already realized shecan do what she wants and does not need to stick around, yet she does. she sleeps near him on the windowsill, waiting with him and marcille for falin to wake up. she has accepted him as part of her life and wants to keep him in it.
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marcille does not hate laios. let me say this again.
Marcille Donato Does Not Hate Laios Touden.
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marcille Loves him. in a platonic, familial sense. laios returns this just as readily. she yells at him. she whacks him. she tells him whats on her mind. she uses healing magic to ease his pain during the parasite fiasco. she reattaches his leg when he loses it. she teaches him magic. she lays her head on his corpse and cries before reviving him. she launches herself at him two times, when the canaries interrogate them and when he talks her down in the tower. he is a comforting presence to her. she trusts him, she cares about him, she worries about him, she imagines him as a big fluffy dog that loves and protects her. laios is her rock when falin is taken from them time and time again. and she tries to be his as well. she whole-heartedly, unconditionally, loves and trusts laios.
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chilchuck does not hate laios. laios pays him his rates, no questions asked. laios trusts and respects chilchuck's job as a lockpick. laios does not see him as a child (at least, i cant think of an instance where he does so). chilchuck states, outright, he sees him as a friend and doesnt want to see him hurt. he actively worries about him as the falin situation gets worse. chilchuck respects laios. he shows almost 0 hesitation in helping get falin back, nor eating her by the end. he does not think of leaving him once, until he realizes he could lose him. chilchuck is cowardly with emotions and prefers to bottle things, so his first instinct was to bolt. he was angry because he was scared of watching someone he cares about destroy himself. laios is his Friend.
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and holy shit. holy Fucking shit. kabru DOES NOT hate laios. kabru has the rockiest start known to man with him, and he Still helps him by occupying the canaries. he warns him about them. he hides the black magic from them just as shuro does. his whole Thing is trusting laios despite himself. kabru has his own baggage regarding other people, just like laios, yet he tries so hard to believe and trust this man. he Wants to. kabru is not very hopeful, but laios makes him Want to be. he states like 3 times he wants to be close to him and sees him as a friend. he stays through the entire feast!! the man who hates monsters, whose biggest trigger is monsters, actively, consciously, Willingly stayed through the entire monster meat feast. all to help his friend get his sister back. he could've left!! the feast was like an entire week!! yet he was there for every single day. he was one of the closest people to the door when falin awoke!! after reuniting with her brother, her friends, the people who knew her the most (plus senshi and izutsumi), the first person she greets is kabru!! he wants to be close to laios, he likes laios, laios is his friend and he cares for him, he wants to meet his sister!!! kabru fucking stays on the island with him as one of his closest, most trusted advisors when he becomes king!!!!! he wants to help him succeed!!!! he wants him to be happy!!!! laios is his friend!!!!!!!!
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im just. people like laios!! laios is a nice guy! he is friendly and cares about people! he is weird, he doesn't understand most social cues, he oversteps boundaries, but they stay beside him, because they like him and he is their friend. he is their friend!!!!! friendship is not all sunshine and rainbows, relationships in general are not sunshine and rainbows. you will upset people, people will upset you, you will get into arguments, things will happen, but at the end of the day, the people close to you like you! they love you! they care for you! they want to work it out and get through it because they love you, but they will feel those emotions first! human relationships are complex and messy and life is complicated. even shows for toddlers know this.
if you truly believe any of these characters hate laios you are worse than a toddler. watch some fucking oobi or something. god. fuck.
take this
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thanks
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acourtofquestions · 26 days ago
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Kingdom of Ash Chapter 57
Chapter Highlights (most of the chapter is the highlight lol)
An hour before dawn, the keep and two armies beyond it were stirring.
Rowan had barely slept, and instead lain awake beside Aelin, listening to her breathing.
That the rest of them slumbered soundly was testament to their exhaustion, though Lorcan had not found them again. Rowan was willing to bet it was by choice.
It was not fear or anticipation of battle that had kept Rowan up—no, he'd slept well enough during other wars. But rather the fact that his mind would not stop looping him from thought to thought to thought.
He'd seen the numbers camped outside.
Valg, human men loyal to Erawan, some fell beasts, yet nothing like the ilken or the
Wyrdhounds, or even the witches.
Aelin could wipe them away before the sun had fully risen. A few blasts of her power, and that army would be gone.
Yet she had not presented it as an option in their planning last night.
He'd seen the hope shining in the eyes of the people in the keep, the awe of the children as she'd passed. The Fire-Bringer, they'd whispered. Aelin of the Wildfire.
How soon would that awe and hope crumble today when not a spark of that fire was unleashed? How soon would the men's fear turn rank when the Queen of Terrasen did not wipe away Morath's legions?
He hadn't been able to ask her. Had told himself to, had roared at himself to ask these past few weeks, when even their training hadn't summoned an ember.
But he couldn't bring himself to demand why she wouldn't or couldn't use her power, why they had seen or felt nothing of it after those initial few days of freedom. Couldn't ask what Maeve and Cairn had done to possibly make her fear or hate her magic enough that she didn't touch it.
Worry and dread gnawing at him, Rowan slipped from the room, the din of preparations greeting him the moment he entered the hall. A heartbeat later, the door opened behind him, and steps fell into sync with his own, along with a familiar, wicked scent.
"They burned her."
Rowan glanced sidelong at Fenrys. "What?" But Fenrys nodded to a passing healer.
"Cairn—and Maeve, through her orders."
"Why are you telling me this?" Fenrys, blood oath or no, what he'd done for Aelin or no, was not privy to these matters. No, it was between him and his mate, and no one else.
Fenrys threw him a grin that didn't meet his eyes. "You were staring at her half the night. I could see it on your face. You're all thinking it—why doesn't she just burn the enemy to hell?" Rowan aimed for the washing station down the hall. A few soldiers and healers stood along the metal trough, scrubbing their faces to shake the sleep or nerves.
Fenrys said, "He put her in those metal gauntlets. And one time, he heated them over an open brazier. There…" He stumbled for words, and Rowan could barely breathe. "It took the healers two weeks to fix what he did to her hands and wrists. And when she woke up, there was nothing but healed skin. She couldn't tell what had been done and what was a nightmare." Rowan reached for one of the ewers that some of the children refilled every few moments and dumped it over his head. Icy water bit into his skin, drowning out the roaring in his ears.
"Cairn did many things like that." Fenrys took up a ewer himself, and splashed some into his hands before rubbing them over his face.
Rowan's hands shook as he watched the water funnel toward the basin set beneath the trough.
"Your claiming marks, though." Fenrys wiped his face again. "No matter what they did to her, they remained. Longer than any other scar, they stayed."
Yet her neck had been smooth when he'd found her.
Reading that thought, Fenrys said, "The last time they healed her, right before she escaped. That's when they vanished. When Maeve told her that you had gone to Terrasen."
The words hit like a blow. When she had lost hope that he was coming for her. Even the greatest healers in the world hadn't been able to take that from her until then.
Rowan wiped his face on the arm of his jacket. "Why are you telling me this?" he repeated.
Fenrys rose from the trough, drying his face with the same lack of ceremony. "So you can stop wondering what happened. Focus on something else today." The warrior kept pace beside him as they headed for where they'd been told a meager breakfast would be laid out.
"And let her come to you when she's ready."
"She's my mate," Rowan growled. "You think I don't know that?" Fenrys could shove his snout into someone else's business.
Fenrys held up his hands. "You can be brutal, when you want something."
"I'd never force her to tell me anything she wasn't ready to say." It had been their bargain from the start. Part of why he'd fallen in love with her.
He should have known then, during those days in Mistward, when he found himself sharing parts of himself, his history, that he'd never told anyone. When he found himself needing to tell her, in fragments and pieces, yes, but he'd wanted her to know. And Aelin had wanted to hear it. All of it.
They discovered Aelin and Elide already at the buffet table, grim-faced as they plucked up pieces of bread and cheese and dried fruit. No sign of Gavriel or Lorcan.
Rowan came up behind his mate and pressed a kiss to her neck. Right to where his new claiming marks lay.
She hummed, and offered him a bite of the bread she'd already dug into while gathering the rest of her food. He obliged, the bread thick and hearty, then said, "You were asleep when I left a few minutes ago, yet you somehow beat me to the breakfast table." Another kiss to her neck. "Why am I not surprised?"
Elide laughed beside Aelin, piling food onto her own plate. Aelin only elbowed him as he fell into line beside her.
The four of them ate quickly, refilled their waterskins at the fountain in an interior courtyard, and set about finding armor. There was little on the upper levels that was fit for wearing, so they descended into the keep, deeper and deeper, until they came across a locked room.
"Should we, or is it rude?" Aelin mused, peering at the wooden door.
Rowan sent a spear of his wind aiming for the lock and splintered it apart. "Looks like it was already open when we got here," he said mildly.
Aelin gave him a wicked grin, and Fenrys pulled a torch off its bracket in the narrow stone hallway to illuminate the room beyond.
"Well, now we know why the rest of the keep is a piece of shit," Aelin said, surveying the trove. "He's kept all the gold and fun things down here."
Indeed, his mate's idea of fun things was the same as Rowan's: armor and swords, spears and ancient maces.
"He couldn't have distributed this?" Elide frowned at the racks of swords and daggers.
"It's all heirlooms," said Fenrys, approaching one such rack and studying the hilt of a sword. "Ancient, but still good. Really good," he added, pulling a blade from its sheath.
He glanced at Rowan. "This was forged by an Asterion blacksmith."
"From a different age," Rowan mused, marveling at the flawless blade, its impeccable condition. "When Fae were not so feared."
"Are we just going to take it? Without even Chaol's permission?" Elide chewed on her lip.
Aelin snickered. "Let's consider ourselves swords-for-hire. And as such, we have fees that need to be paid." She hefted a round, golden shield, its edges beautifully engraved with a motif of waves. Also Asterion-made, judging by the craftsmanship. Likely for the Lord of Anielle— the Lord of the Silver Lake. "So, we'll take what we're owed for today's battle, and spare His Lordship the task of having to come down here himself."
Gods, he loved her.
Fenrys winked at Elide. "I won't tell if you don't, Lady."
Elide blushed, then waved them onward. "Collect your earnings, then."
Rowan did. He and Fenrys found armor that could fit them—in certain areas. They had to forgo the entire suit, but took pieces to enforce their shoulders, forearms, and shins. Rowan had just finished strapping greaves on his legs when Fenrys said, "We should bring some of this up for Lorcan and Gavriel."
Indeed they should. Rowan eyed other pieces, and began collecting extra daggers and blades, then sections from another suit that might fit Lorcan, Fenrys doing the same for Gavriel.
"You must charge a great deal for your services," Elide muttered. Even while the Lady of Perranth tied a few daggers to her own belt.
"I need some way to pay for my expensive tastes, don't I?" Aelin drawled, weighing a dagger in her hands.
But she hadn't donned any armor yet, and when Rowan gave her an inquiring glance, Aelin jerked her chin toward him. "Head upstairs-track down Lorcan and Gavriel. I'll find you soon."
Her face was unreadable for once. Perhaps she wanted a moment alone before battle. And when Rowan tried to find any words in her eyes, Aelin turned toward the shield she'd claimed. As if contemplating it.
So Rowan and Fenrys headed upstairs, Elide helping to haul their stolen gear. No one stopped them. Not with the sky turning to gray, and soldiers rushing to their positions on the battlements.
Rowan and Fenrys didn't have far to go.
They'd be stationed by the gates at the lower level, where the battering rams might come flying through if Morath got desperate enough.
On the level above them, Chaol sat astride his magnificent black horse, the mare's breath curling from her nostrils. Rowan lifted a hand in greeting, and Chaol saluted back before gazing toward the enemy army.
The khaganate would make the first maneuver, the initial push to get Morath moving.
"I always forget how much I hate this part," Fenrys muttered. "The waiting before it begins."
Rowan grunted his agreement.
Gavriel prowled up to them, Lorcan a dark storm behind him. Rowan wordlessly handed the latter the armor he'd gathered. "Courtesy of the Lord of Anielle." Lorcan gave him a look that said he knew Rowan was full of shit, but began efficiently donning the armor, Gavriel doing the same.
Whether the soldiers around them marked that armor, whether Chaol recognized it, no one said a word.
"Ready now," Chaol called out to the men of his keep.
This would be it—today. Whether that hope remained or fractured.
Already, the awakening sky revealed two siege towers being hauled toward them. Right to the wall. Far closer than Rowan had last noted when flying overhead last night. Morath, it seemed, had not been sleeping, either.
The ruks would remain back with their own army, driving Morath to the keep. To be picked off here, one by one.
"We have minutes until that first tower makes contact with the wall," Gavriel observed. A scan of the battlements, the soldiers atop them, revealed no sign of Aelin. Lorcan indeed muttered, "Someone better tell her to stop primping and get here." Rowan snarled in warning.
"Archers!" Chaol's bellow rang out. Behind them, down the battlements, bows groaned. Fenrys unslung the bow across his back and nocked an arrow into place.
Rowan kept his own bow strapped across his back, the quiver untouched, Gavriel and Lorcan doing the same. No need to waste them on a few soldiers when their aim might be needed with far worse targets later in the day.
But one of them had to be noted felling soldiers. For whatever it would do to rally their spirits. And Fenrys, as fine an archer as Rowan, he'd admit, would do just fine.
Rowan followed the line of Fenrys's arrowhead to where he'd marked one of the bearers of a siege ladder. "Make it impressive," he muttered.
"Mind your own business," Fenrys muttered back, tracking his target with the tip of his arrow as he awaited Chaol's order.
If Aelin didn't arrive within another moment, he'd have to leave the battlements to find her. What in hell had held her up?
Lorcan drew his ancient blade, which Rowan had witnessed felling soldiers in kingdoms far from here, in wars far longer than this one. "They'll head for the gates when that siege tower docks," Lorcan said, glancing from the battlements to the gate a level below, the small bastion of men in front of it. Trees had been felled to prop up the metal doors, but should a solid enough group of enemy soldiers swarm it, they might get those supports and the heavy locks down within minutes. And open the gates to the hordes beyond
"We don't let them get that far," Rowan said, eyeing up the massive tower lumbering closer. Soldiers teemed behind it, waiting to scale its interior. "Chaol brought the tower down the other day without our help. It can happen again."
"Volley!" Chaol's roar echoed off the stones, and arrows sang.
Like a swarm of locusts, they swept upon the soldiers marching below. Fenrys's arrow found its mark with lethal precision.
Within a heartbeat, another was on its tail. A second soldier at the siege ladder fell.
Where the hell was Aelin—
Morath didn't halt. Marched right over the soldiers who fell on their front lines.
The pulse of human fear down the battlements rippled against his skin. The cadre would have to strike fast, and strike well, to shake it away.
The siege tower lumbered closer. One glance from Rowan had him and his friends moving toward the spot it would now undeniably strike upon the battlements. Close enough to the stairs down to the gate. Morath had chosen the location well.
Some of the soldiers they passed were praying, a shuddering push of words into the frigid morning air.
Lorcan said to one of them, "Save your breath for the battle, not the gods."
Rowan shot him a look, but the man, gaping at Lorcan, quieted.
Chaol ordered another volley, and arrows flew, Fenrys firing as he walked. As if he were barely bothered.
Still, the whispered prayers continued down the line, swords shaking along with them.
Up by Chaol, the soldiers held firm, faces solid.
But here, on this level of the battlements ... those faces were pale. Wide-eyed.
"Someone better say something inspiring," Fenrys said through gritted teeth, firing another arrow. "Or these men are going to piss themselves in a minute."
For a minute was all they had left, as the first siege tower inched closer.
"You've got the pretty face," Lorcan retorted. "You'd do a better job of it."
"It's too late for speeches," Rowan cut in before Fenrys could reply. "Better to show them what we can do."
Rowan steadied his breathing, readying his magic to rip through Valg lungs. He'd fell a few with his blades first. To show how easily it could be done, that Morath was desperate and victory would be near. The magic would come later.
The siege tower groaned as it slowed to a stop.
Just as the wall under them shuddered at its impact, Fenrys whispered, "Holy gods."
Not at the bridge that snapped down, soldiers teeming in the dark depths inside.
But at who emerged from the keep archway behind them. What emerged.
Rowan didn't know where to look. At the soldiers pouring out of the siege tower, leaping onto the battlements, or at Aelin.
At the Queen of Terrasen.
She'd found armor below the keep. Beautiful, pale gold armor that gleamed like a summer dawn. Holding back her braided hair, a diadem lay flush against her head. Not a diadem, but a piece of armor. Part of some ancient set for a lady long since buried.
A crown for war, a crown to wear into battle. A crown to lead armies.
There was no fear on her face, no doubt, as Aelin hefted her shield, flipping Goldryn in her hand once before the first of Morath's soldiers was upon her.
A swift, upward strike cleaved the Morath grunt from navel to chin. His black blood sprayed, but she was already moving, flowing like a stream around a rock.
Rowan launched into movement, his blades finding their marks, but still he watched her.
Aelin slammed her shield against an oncoming warrior, Goldryn slicing through another before she plunged the blade into the soldier she'd deflected.
She did it again, and again.
All while heading toward that siege tower. Unhindered. Unleashed.
A call went down the line. The queen has come.
Soldiers waiting their turn whirled toward them. Aelin took on three Valg soldiers and left them dying on the stones.
She planted her line before the gaping maw of that siege tower, right in the path of those teeming hordes. Every moment of the training she'd done on the ship here, on the road, every new blister and callus—all to rebuild herself for this.
The queen has come.
Goldryn unfaltering, her shield an extension of her arm, Aelin glowed like the sun that now broke over the khagan's army as she engaged each soldier that hurtled her way.
Five, ten—she moved and moved and moved, ducking and swiping, shoving and flipping, black blood spraying, her face the portrait of grim, unbreaking will.
"The queen!" the men shouted. "To the queen!"
And as Rowan fought his way closer, as that cry went down the battlements and Anielle men ran to aid her, he realized that Aelin did not need an ounce of flame to inspire men to follow.
That she had been waiting, yanking at the bit, to show them what she, without magic, without any godly power, might do.
He'd never seen such a glorious sight. In every land, every battle, he had never seen anything as glorious as Aelin before the throat of the siege tower, holding the line.
Dawn breaking around them, Rowan loosed a battle cry and tore into Morath.
This first battle would set the tone.
It would set the tone, and send a message.
Not to Morath.
Impress us, Hasar had said.
So she would. So she'd picked the golden armor and her battle-crown. And waited until dawn, until that siege tower slammed into the battlements, before unleashing herself.
To keep the men here from breaking, to wipe away the fear festering in their eyes.
To convince the khaganate royals of what she might do, what she could do. Not a threat, but a reminder.
She was no helpless princess. She had never been.
Goldryn sang with each swipe, her mind as cool and sharp as the blade while she assessed each enemy soldier, their weapons, and took them down accordingly. She dimly knew that Rowan fought at her side, Gavriel and Fenrys battling near her left flank.
But she was keenly aware of the mortal men who leaped into the fray with cries of defiance.
They'd made it this far. They would survive today, too. And the khaganate royals would know it.
Galloping hooves drowned out the battle, and then Chaol was there, sword flashing, driving into the unending tide that rushed from the tower's entrance.
"To Lord Chaol! To the queen!"
How far they both were from Rifthold.
From the assassin and the captain.
Arrows rose from the army beyond the wall, but a wave of icy wind snapped them into splinters before they could find any marks. A dark blur plunged past, and then Lorcan was at the siege tower's mouth, his sword swinging so fast Aelin could barely follow it. He battled his way across the metal bridge of the tower, into the stairwell beyond. Like he'd fight his way down the ramps and onto the battlefield itself. Below, a boom began. Morath had brought in their battering ram.
Aelin smiled grimly. She'd bring them all down. Then Erawan. And then she'd unleash herself upon Maeve.
At the opposite end of the field, the khagan's army pushed, gaining the field step by step.
Not helpless. Not contained. Never again.
Death became a melody in her blood, every movement a dance as the tide of soldiers pouring from the tower slowed. As if Lorcan was indeed forcing his way down the interior.
Those who got past him met her blade, or Rowan's. A flash of gold, and Gavriel had slaughtered his way into the siege tower as well, twin blades a whirlwind.
What Lorcan and the Lion would do upon reaching the bottom, how they'd dislodge the tower, she didn't know. Didn't think about it.
Not from this place of killing and movement, of breath and blood. Of freedom.
Death had been her curse and her gift and her friend for these long, long years. She was happy to greet it again under the golden morning sun.
#Chapter 57#Kingdom of Ash#Sarah J. Maas#Rowan Whitethorn#Aelin Galathynius#Chaol Westfall#First Read along with me NO SPOILERS PLEASE though warning for post & tags up to KoA 57 & more reacts/notes/quotes in tags below#Why didnt it blaze-they burned her-afraid2ask-had Aelin allowed it?Maeve stole&knew-no1had been able to heal past it-how powerful had been#Thought to thought-Hadn’t been able to ask why-She’s afraid too-Noone else-She was out for weeks after-Couldn’t tell her-The marks stayed#Fierce pride-One people-Happy-Breathing-Proof-Chaol didn’t knowWhat he didn’t sayHe knew it was her-Of the wildfire-How could he ask that?#But what had happened?-Training nothing-where is it?Fenrys knew-They didn’t pry-But he saw-Cold Fear hatred bit at him-He said it for her#cause he felt it too-What that’s horrific-No one other then them Knew-that it was that bad-Couldn’t breathe yeah me too-The ice again#That scar held longer than any-And they tried-she tried-Nehemia quick no more cowards-She’d given up and Fenrys knew it Aelin had broken-#before itShe knew they would break herThat’s what that run wasNot one of saving but one of leaving-I won’t go-When she’s lost hope#focus on something else stop wondering-He’ll say it so she doesn’t have to-Let her come when she’s ready-thanks Fenrys-His attitude is fair#but also he knows-Part of why he’d loved her-Should’ve known when she won’t talk it’s something that brutal-Needing wanting her to know#&hear-A mark-She fed him ACOTAR mate style-Laughed4once-the4-Their team-mischief&lovely-every door makes me miss Mort#THE ARMOR AND SWORDS-He reminds-He defends-She’s got a plan-Gods he loved her-my lady-if only gods for hire-the waves of it#lol sorry Lorcy they didn’t fit the armor-what’s her plan?-they know but they know enough to let her do her thing-unreadable-that shield#Aelin what’s the plan babe?-golden-she knows how to make an enterance-It’ll be done shortly so they listened to a queen knowing she’s hidin#Power of a good speech lol-Whether hope remained or fractured-Primping-Break in plan-NO THE TOWERS#Aelin&The/her cadre Breath for battle not gods Something inspiring-You’ve got a pretty face lol-the power of their names-Holygodsliterally#The queen has come-A crown-No fear-Aelin Anielle armor no braid nothing burning-3 months of power storing-she knew what show they needed#love her or hate her the woman’s got style- Rowan babe this is war you can’t just ogle your wife lol-Still he watched her-she is the sun#The queen has come-For this-She was ready-To the queen-Grim unbreaking will-What she without magic could do-Nothing like her#So she would show them-To the people+A reminder;She has never been a helpless princessno lost queenno before anything#the one you want now The Queen of Assassins. The Prince Rowan at her side.Her cadre around her.They’d survive to tell the tale#&the people know it.Hope.How far from the assassin and the captain we’ve come.the right hand man.What about Elide?Her plan1by1#Defiant not helpless dare I say she felt it too-Never againDeath her melody the one thing they all sharedHer never ending pursuit of Freedo#death her first friend the sun her first gift the question&answerAelins not using her power shes saving it for Maeve&gives that up for them
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altruisticalastor · 10 months ago
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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
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☒ Summary: Alastor rarely lost control of his shadows. It only happened when he was deep in thought planning his next broadcast. Or when he was sleeping. But those moments were few and far between. Though when he did, one shadow, in particular, always came to your side.
☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, smut, fingering, dubious consent from alastor's shadow, but consent from alastor himself, established relationship, slight misunderstandings, groping, making out, first time together, oral (reader receiving), breeding kink, praise, slight teasing, begging, squirting, alastor has a knot, soft aftercare, alastor's ears are his weak spot, reader holds onto alastor's antlers while they...ykyk
☒ Word Count: 3,756
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Alastor rarely lost control of his shadows. It only happened when he was deep in thought planning his next broadcast. Or when he was sleeping. But those moments were few and far between. Though when he did, one shadow, in particular, always came to your side. 
The dark silhouette was playful. You couldn’t help but giggle when the shadow would dance along the wall, morphing into silly shapes. Or when the silhouette would play with the bubbles while you took a relaxing bath. You were pleasantly shocked when the shadow slipped into the tub with you, cupping some bubbles in its palm and forming a soapy beard around your jaw. 
It was harmless fun. You never mentioned it to Alastor because you figured he sent the shadows of his own volition. Your partner had trouble with physical intimacy, so you assumed Alastor was testing the waters with his shadowy counterpart. Little did you know, that was far from the truth. 
In some ways, Alastor’s shadows had a mind of their own. They reflected his deepest desires and emotions. So, when he didn’t keep them in check, it only made sense that one of his shadows would find its way to you. Alastor simply adored you but he only showed you tenderness behind closed doors. Not wanting his reputation to be tarnished- or for you to get caught in the crossfire of any turf wars. So, the attention you were getting from his dark silhouette was more than welcome. 
Over time, things became more… perverse. You had just gotten out of your bath, dressing yourself in your comfiest nightgown, when the shadow made its presence known. You jumped slightly when the void arms wrapped around your waist from where it towered behind you. The shadow nuzzled its face into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily against your nape. A shudder ran through you as your partner's silhouette pulled your back flush against its chest. 
“This is… different,” You chuckled playfully, placing your hands over the shadow's hands that rested atop your abdomen. Slowly, they began moving down. Your breath hitched when the shadow of sharp nails raked up the tops of your thighs tauntingly, inching higher under your nightgown. Your hands came up to clasp around your mouth, failing miserably at muffling your sinful sounds. The shadow’s hand cupped your panty-clad core, caressing you in a teasing fashion. A moan of your lover's name slipped past your lips as the silhouette became more brazen. It dipped a hand underneath the waistband of your panties before slowly running a deft finger through your slick folds. 
Alastor and you have never done anything sexual. Sure, you shared kisses and warm embraces, but never anything further. You had desires for Alastor in that way, but you never wanted to put him in a position where he would feel uncomfortable. You knew touch was quite challenging for your lover, so respecting his wishes was your top priority. Whenever you got needy, you took care of yourself, plain and simple. But having Alastor’s shadow feel you up so sensually, going so far as to gather the embarrassing amount of slick that pooled in your core with its wicked digit was more than a surprise for you. It felt amazing, better than you pictured. You only wished it was Alastor in the flesh instead of his shadow. But if this was what he was comfortable with until then, you weren’t complaining. 
Sultry whines of yours were muffled by your palm as the shadow dipped a finger into your welcoming heat. You clenched tightly from the sudden intrusion, the pleasure rushing straight to your head. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as the shadow added a second finger, pumping into you slowly. The tantalizing drag of its fingers from deep within your pussy made your legs shake wildly. You still couldn’t believe this was happening, but you were too scared to pinch yourself if this was a dream; because it was certainly one you didn’t want to wake from. 
From atop the radio tower, Alastor was fretting over the fine details for his next broadcast. His eyebrows were threaded in concentration as he typed away at his typewriter, tearing page after page and starting anew. None of what he was coming up with was up to par. It needed to be perfect. Amid all the stress and frustration, his devilish shadow slipped away from him. It sensed that Alastor needed comfort, and you were always his solace. The shadow also picked up on another urge that Alastor had as a cause of all his frustrations; a need for release. 
That’s when the shadow snuck into your and Alastor’s shared room, hence the predicament you’re currently in. But little did you know, Alastor wasn’t immune to his own shadow’s ministrations. Abruptly, Alastor doubled over. Warmth spread through his lower abdomen as he felt all the blood in his body rush south. Alastor’s eyebrows shot up in shock, eyes blown wide as he looked down into his lap. “What just happened..?” Alastor asked himself. His voice fell flat from his usually staticky tone, utterly dumbfounded as to why his body began to betray him. The heat in his belly grew, as did the ache in his groin. Alastor’s face flushed a deep crimson, complimenting his hair nicely as his breaths became labored. “F-Fuck…” He scored his bottom lip with his teeth, drawing blood as his cock twitched with need beneath his pants. Alastor’s nails dug deep into his desk, leaving deep scratch marks as his hips jolted up involuntarily. The need for release was almost painful, and he craved any sort of friction he could get at that moment. 
Alastor took in a shaky breath, attempting to regain his composure. His mind was reeling, but he tried to focus. That’s when he noticed, his shadows went astray. “I rather hate when this happens,” Alastor spat through gritted teeth. He swallowed thickly before standing on shaky legs. He took one last breath before storming out of his radio tower. The need for release was suppressed momentarily as the desire to punish those pesky shadows outweighed. 
As for you, the shadow continued its teasing pace. Each time you got close to the edge the shadow would stop entirely. Dragging out your much-needed orgasm and causing you to feel more desperate than ever. You craved release more than anything. Your mind was fuzzy, all you could focus on was the pleasure Alastor's shadow granted you. The only thing holding you up was one of the shadow's slender arms wrapped around your midsection. If not for that, your shaky legs surely would have given out by now.
Before your mind could catch up, the bedroom door slammed open. In an instant, the shadow that had been toying with you was gone. You dropped to the floor, eyes flickering open to comprehend what had happened. That's when your gaze fell upon Alastor. Embarrassment coursed through your veins at the sight of your lover. "A-Alastor..." Your voice was hoarse from all the whines that slipped past your lips only moments ago. 
Alastor ushered to your side immediately. His gaze was full of worry as you watched a bead of sweat cascade down his forehead. "Oh dear, this certainly wasn't what I expected my shadow to be up to," He trailed off, the static in his voice laced with shame. Alastor grasped your hands in his before tugging you up off the floor. Your legs were still uneasy as you placed your hands atop your lover's shoulders to stabilize yourself. 
"Wait... don't tell me you... didn't know?" Your bottom lip quivered as you avoided Alastor's intense gaze. You felt the tears well up in your eyes before he grasped your chin, forcing you to look at him. His other hand sat firmly on your hip, not wanting you to lose your footing. "My darling, I am so... please, forgive me for this vulgar display presented by my shadow. I had no clue that it was tormenting you until... my body became receptive. But not to worry, that wretched shadow will be punished."
The tears fell freely down your cheeks at his words. In a way, you felt rejected by your lover, and you felt stupid for even thinking he desired you in that way. How pathetic, you thought. Alastor wiped away your tears with the pad of his thumb. His heart ached in his chest upon seeing you in such a fragile state. "How laughable, I really thought this was intentional. Ah, I feel so embarssed... I think I should be the one apologizing, Al," You sniffled, dropping your hands down to your sides, putting a bit of distance between Alastor and yourself.
His expression turned into one of perplexity until it all clicked in his mind. Alastor felt a knot in his stomach. His darling felt rejected by him because she assumed her desires weren't reciprocated. Little did you know, his shadows mirrored his deepest needs. So, your assumption couldn't have been further from the truth. Ah, just what was he to do to mend this?
"Nonsense, dearest. You don't need to be sorry for a single thing. Please, don't feel ashamed. The reason I apologized was because I assumed my shadow forced itself onto you. But to my better understanding, you enjoyed the pleasure it gave you," Alastor's voice deepened. Voice crackling with that signature radio static. His crimson gaze raked over your frame. He felt heat swirl within his lower abdomen once more at the sight of your disheveled state. 
Your panties were pooling at your ankles, and the flimsy straps of your nightgown draped down your shoulders. Alastor didn't fail to notice the slick trailing down your inner thighs, nor the way your legs shook with need. "I really enjoyed it, Al..." You sniffled, a small frown painting your features. Alastor's grip around your waist tightened as the hand caressing your cheek began to trail lower. "Oh my little doe, the feeling is mutual," Alstor whispered, grasping your wrist before guiding your palm to the front of his trousers. A gasp slipped past your lips at the feeling of your lover's hard cock straining against his pants. "You see, my shadows share the same desires as I. They are a part of me, after all," He continued, large palm dwarfing the back of your hand as he pressed you further into his crotch. 
Alastor let out a strangled groan at the much-needed friction, and the sound alone had you dripping with need. "What made you think I wouldn't want to absolutely ravish you? You truly believe fucking you hasn't crossed my mind countless times, hm?" You bit your lip at his words, squeezing your thighs together. Alastor let out a low chuckle, and before you could process it, he ushered you both to the bed. A breath escaped you as your back hit the mattress. In no time, Alastor was crawling on top of you, his slender thighs caging you underneath him. He dipped his face low, nose nearly brushing against yours. "Well, use your words, darling." 
Your heart was pounding against your ribcage as you gazed into his frenzied gaze. His eyes were half-lidded, the corners of his lips twitching slightly. "N-No! I... I just thought that-" Alastor brought a finger to your lips, shushing you softly. "You thought wrong, my dearest. This isn't quite what I had in mind for our first time, but alas," Alastor's large palms trailed down your body. He pushed your thighs apart with ease, slotting himself between them. A gasp escaped your lips at the feeling of his clothed erection pressing deeply into your exposed pussy. You were sure you had left a wet patch at the front of his pants from his gesture, but you couldn't care less. 
Alastor's gaze never once left yours. He drank up your expressions. The way your lips parted as another whimper escaped your throat was simply adorable to him. Alastor pushed your nightgown higher up your thighs and over your torso before skillfully ridding you of the garment entirely. "My, my... you are quite a sight for sore eyes. I could just eat you up," He inched his way down the bed, still gazing into your eyes as he laid flat on his stomach from beneath your legs. Alastor hooked your thighs over his shoulders, nipping and licking at the sensitive flesh. Pulling moans from your lips and causing you to drip even more with need. His sinful tongue wasted no time delving into your folds. A deep groan escaped Alastor's throat as he tasted you for the very first time. You were absolutely divine, his new favorite flavor.
Alastor dipped his wicked tongue into your needy hole, lapping up all of your slick before trailing higher. The moment his tongue teased at your clit, you were thrashing with pleasure. Without thinking, your hands flickered to the top of Alastor's head. Your fingers wrapped around his growing antlers, holding onto them for dear life as your lover devoured you. He moaned against your clit, the vibrations making your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure he was granting you was heavenly; ironically so. You were close, and you craved release more than anything. The moment Alastor wrapped his lips around your clit, giving your nub a strong suck, you were done for. Your orgasm crashed over you, the pleasure reaching its peak as your thighs tightened around your lover's head. "A-Alastor!" Your vision went fuzzy as he worked you through your high, only pulling back when he felt your thighs relax. 
As you caught your breath, Alastor knelt between your legs. He swiftly undid his belt before tugging his trousers low enough down his thighs for his cock to spring free. "You see what you do to me, my dearest? You make me lose my composure, so you're going to have to take responsibility." He quipped, gazing down at you like you were his prey. The sight of his throbbing cock made you clench around nothing. You needed him inside you more than you needed air. Your mind was so fuzzy as you nodded your head in agreement, sitting up slightly to grasp your lover's cock at the base. Alastor let out a low moan as you leisurely stroked him. "I take full responsibility, I promise I'll make it up to you," You babbled, wrapping your free hand around the back of Alastor's neck, successfully pulling him on top of you. Your hand that grasped his length lined the ruddy tip of his cock up to your entrance. Alastor's breath hitched before he whispered, "Oh I know you will, my good girl." 
With that, Alastor pushed his hips forward. Slowly, he sunk into you inch by inch. "F-Fuck... you are squeezing me so tightly..." The stretch was delightful, your lover filled you perfectly. It's like you were made for one another. The moment his balls came flush against the underside of your pussy, you let out a breath you weren't even aware you were holding onto. Alastor's gaze held so much fondness for you, that it made your heart flutter. "Such a sweet little thing, taking me to the hilt with ease. You're mine, all mine." Alastor proclaimed before capturing your lips with his for the first time tonight. He poured all his emotions into the embrace, and your eyes fluttered shut as your hands came up to card through his two-toned locks. Alastor's tongue swiped along your bottom lip, asking permission to deepen the kiss. Without a second thought, you allowed him to invade your mouth. You whined against his lips as your fingers found his ears. You felt Alastor's cock twitch wildly from where he was nestled deep inside your warm wet heat. His head shot back in pleasure, breaking away from the kiss as your fingernails grazed the base of his ears. 
The moan he let out was obscene, making your walls flutter around his length. Alastor's gaze darkened tremendously when his eyes met yours again. "I hope you know I won't be holding back after that, my darling. It seems as though my self-control went amiss," He paused, delivering a quick but shallow thrust. A moan was ripped from you as Alastor ground his pelvis into yours, keeping himself deep inside you. "But you're such a sweet little thing, you can take it. Right, my darling?" Alastor quipped, still grinding his hips into yours. Your breath was labored as you tried to regain some semblance of composure. Just enough to answer your lover. "Y-Yes! I can take it- I promise!" You blurted out desperately as you pushed your hips into his, solidifying your words. Alastor let out a half chuckle half moan. It crackled deep within his chest before he brought his face to yours, lips ghosting over one another. "Good girl." With that, Alastor began fucking into you with reckless abandon. His hips pistoned into you hard and quick as deep grunts and groans slipped out of him. You held onto his antlers once more as your lover fucked you senseless.
With each drag of his hips, the tip of his cock prodded at your sweet spot. You were seeing stars. Alastor's hands began to wander as his pace quickened, and your back arched as he tweaked your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your pussy tightened around him like a vise as he toyed with your other nipple. His crimson gaze memorized every reaction you had, making his head spin. Alastor's hands quickly came down to your thighs, pushing them up toward your chest. He shuddered as his cock reached deeper inside you than ever before. You were an absolute mess underneath him, but you took Alastor's rough treatment nicely. Just as you promised. "My, my! You're making quite a mess of our sheets darling. My pants are practically soaked with your arousal too! How naughty, I didn't know my darling was this desperate for my cock." His teasing only pushed you closer to your next release, and he knew it. Alastor could fucking feel it. Experimentally, he brought the pad of his thumb down to your clit. Your breath hitched as he began circling your puffy nub. His pace inside you was brutal, but his movements against your clit were painfully slow, making your legs shake wildly from the conflicting sensations. 
"Please, please, please!" You begged, tightening your grasp around his antlers as you pushed your hips into his, meeting his ruthless thrusts halfway. Alastor let out a dark chuckle. The static crackle rang through your ears as he began circling your clit faster. "Please? Please, what, darling?" He teased, slowing his hips slightly so you could get your words out. You let out a small whimper before blurting out, "Please, my love- can I cum? I wanna cum on your cock!" A flush spread to Alastor's cheeks, all the way down his neck from your words. How vulgar, he thought. His cock twitched wildly from within your inviting walls as he fucked into you with vigor, balls slapping against the underside of your pussy, causing lewd sounds to fill the room. "So filthy, my doe. Cum then. Let me feel you try to milk me for all I'm worth." His words were all you needed to cause the coil from deep within your tummy to snap. A throaty whine escaped you as you thrashed wildly against the sheets. Your legs twitched as you came all over your lover's cock. But this orgasm felt different than any other you had before. Your eyes shot down to where Alastor and yourself were connected, and that's when you noticed it. You were squirting. Alastor's eyes widened in shock, the sight of you cumming harshly underneath him pushed him impossibly close to his own release. You hardly had a moment to recover from your orgasm when you felt Alastor swelling from deep inside you. 
"You're going to take my seed like the good little doe you are. I'm going to breed you, mark you so no one ever dares to take what's mine." Alastor manically babbled. The possessive side of him always got you all hot and bothered. With each passing thrust, his knot swelled more and more until he could barely move from deep inside you. Alastor let out a strangled moan as he stilled, finally releasing his load deep within your cunt. You whimpered at the feeling of being filled up by your lover. There was so much. Each twitch of his cock pumped another thick load of cum inside your greedy heat. Alastor must have really been pent up, you thought. He gritted his teeth as the last of his load spilled into you. Alastor collapsed on top of you as his knot began to deflate, and his cock softened inside you. "Alastor... that was amazing." You chuckled breathlessly as your lover slipped out of your warmth. He rolled off of you before standing beside the bed. You watched as he rid himself of the rest of his clothing before he scooped you up into his arms bridal style. "You are perfection, my dear! I'm delighted to know I was able to satisfy your deepest desires." 
Your arms tightened around the back of his neck as Alastor made quick strides toward your private bathroom. He placed you atop the sink countertop before turning to fill the tub. "I didn't know that you, uh-" Heat rushed to your face as you tried to find the words, suddenly feeling rather bashful. Alastor finished adding the bubbles before turning to face you once more. He slotted himself between your parted thighs from where you sat atop the sink countertop, giving you a teasing look as his hands rubbed your sides. "That I...? What, darling?" He knew what you were trying to say, but he wanted to hear you say it for himself. You puffed out your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around his slender neck, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. Alastor chuckled against your lips before you blurted out, "I didn't know that you- had a... that you could knot... me." You let out a gasp as Alastor picked you up once more. Slowly lowering you into the tub before joining you. "Oh, my darling, there are many things you don't know about me! Maybe next time you'll get to experience more of my... surprises." 
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ghostedbunnie · 3 months ago
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nightmare in the daylight
knight!ghost x fem!reader
based on my prompt that you can find here.
warnings: non-con/dub-con, size kink, spanking, oral (f.receiving), fingering (f.receiving), thigh riding, biting, creampie, breeding kink
a/n: i feel so rusty so please be gentle i rewrote this way too many times, it was a lot longer and had more plot but i might just end up writing pt.2 if there is interest, I added a tag list for those who wanted to see this! 🫶
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Ghost hadn't anticipated encountering a robbery on the forest trail while en route to collect his king's future wife. It was unexpected but not unwelcome; he was yearning for a skirmish, for blood and broken bones. The recent tranquility had left him restless. These bandits wouldn't pose much of a challenge, but they would at least satisfy his craving.
The skies began to pour as soon as he dismounted from his horse, startling the highwaymen. They were engaged in a one-sided fight with a few knights who had undoubtedly been sent to protect the carriage on its way to his kingdom. Before any of them could react to his arrival, heads started rolling. Chaos erupted once more, with screams of terror cutting through the forest and startling the remaining fauna.
After the final enemy fell to a sword through his abdomen, Ghost approached the carriage with slow, deliberate steps. As he opened the door, he was taken by surprise as a curtain was thrown into his face and a shard of glass was aimed for his neck by a scrawny, wild-looking maid. Despite your trembling, there was a fierce determination in your eyes, a vow that you would not give up without a struggle. Beneath his face plate, the corner of his mouth curled up, and with a wry snort, he deflected the shard from your bleeding hand. Seizing you by the back of your neck like a feisty kitten showing its claws, he pulled you out of the carriage and dropped you onto the chilly, muddy ground. As he turned back to the carriage to retrieve the princess, he realized she was no warrior; she had fainted at the sight of his imposing figure silhouetted against the moonlight.
As he carries your mistress to his horse, you launch at his back, kicking and screaming, trying to make him let her go. He unceremoniously deposits her on the horse like a sack of potatoes. Finally, he turns back to catch your hands, which have been beating at his back, with one of his much bigger hands. Your eyes go wide with terror as the reality of your position with this beast sinks in. He can't help but relish in the look of you now, wet hair sticking to your face, wild eyes, and scratches on your cheek from the broken glass. You look like a tasty meal for his beastly appetite and he's been starving for far too long. You are unaware of it but attracting his attention will be the worst mistake of your life. As he draws you closer with your bound wrists, he whispers into your ear so that you can hear him over the pouring rain, “Yer brave but stupid, girl.” After that, he hits the back of your neck and everything goes black.
The next thing you know, you are standing in front of the king who explains the entire situation. However, somehow that doesn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach, especially when the king mentions a reward for the behemoth of a man towering over you. He is still covered in blood, and daylight doesn't make him any less terrifying. He stalks around like a nightmare in black leathers that hug his form tight and emphasize his width. As if sensing your thoughts, he takes a step closer, taking up more of your space, and before you can move away, you catch the last words uttered by the king: “You brought me, my bride, Ghost, it's only fair you get a reward. Take your pick - anything you wish for will be yours.”
A weighty, gloved paw settles on the nape of your neck, causing you to startle. "I'll take 'er." Your mistress immediately starts to protest but despite her objections, the king simply nods and smiles, disregarding you entirely. You have no option but to allow the beast, that he called Ghost, to guide you away with a firm hand on your nape.
After navigating through several twists and turns, you find yourself in an unremarkable room. It contains only the absolute necessities—a bed and very little else. The one thing that draws your attention in the room is the sizeable tub that is still emitting steam, indicating it was just filled a few minutes ago.
Silently, Ghost pushes you towards the tub, and you promptly begin to retreat away from it. You refuse to bathe in his presence. Even though you are just a servant, you are still a virtuous lady.
“Either you go voluntarily or I'll throw you in kickin' and screamin'.” He growls and then says, "I'll relish it either way." You can sense the predatory undertone in his voice. You're fighting a losing battle, as going willingly gives him complete control, yet resisting might provoke an even more... primal response.
You break free from his hold, realizing that he let you go willingly. 
"Can you... turn around?" he scoffs, moving to a chair that creaks under his weight. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he gestures for you to proceed. Though you want to scream or lash out, you hold back, sensing that he's waiting for you to lose control. Instead, you turn around and slowly peel off your muddied and torn dress. As you reach the chemise underneath, you sneak a peek and notice he has removed his helmet and face plate, revealing short dirty blond hair, black coal marks around his eyes, and prominent scars cutting through his lips and brow. Despite his broken nose, he remains strangely alluring, which frightens you. Hastily, you turn back, slide the chemise down, and attempt to hide under the steaming water.
"Good girl," he growls, satisfied with your obedience. Just as the relief that maybe this is all he wanted starts to sink into your bones, it's replaced with dread when you notice he starts shedding his clothes too. He loosens up his dark, blood-stained leathers with ease and deftness you wouldn't expect from a man his size.
"What are you doing?" Panic is evident in your question, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all.
"Can't bathe with my clothes on," he answers matter-of-factly. Once again, a wave of indignation courses through you, but it's quickly overshadowed by a pang of heat that forces you to rub your thighs together underwater. Your eyes can't help but stay glued to him, just as he did to you when you were taking your dress off. He is now down to his breeches, and when he pulls them down his thick thighs, you audibly gasp when you notice he is not wearing anything underneath. This earns you an amused chuckle, especially when he catches you looking again through your fingers.
Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, but before your thoughts can drift to what lies between his powerful thighs, he steps into the tub with you. Water spills over the edges, though he doesn't seem to mind. He pulls you close, turning you so your back presses against him, your body nestled between his legs, leaning on his firm chest. The light tickle of his hair brushes against your skin, and his strong arm rests across your stomach, fingers splayed making you feel even smaller. The contact makes you squirm, but as you try to pull away, you only stir the hardening length behind you, making you flush with heat.
“Relax,” he grunts into your ear, more command than a suggestion.
“How can I possibly –ah.” Your reply gets cut off by a moan as his other hand falls from the edge of the tub and wanders between your legs. Your attempts at closing your legs seem futile even with one hand he is strong enough to force his way in and drag his fingers through your folds nearing the opening. Your spine arches instinctively and he answers with a nip to your neck and jaw, while forcing a finger up to the first knuckle in. 
“Gotta loosen you up a bit, pet.” You have no choice but to surrender to his touch as he sinks his finger in and curls it, drawing a moan out of you before you clap a hand over your mouth to keep the sounds in. But all that decorum is forgotten when he adds a second one and scissors them before slowly prodding you with the third making you see stars. The tension building in your body suddenly snaps, sending you reeling, legs going numb and your fingers digging into his arm still wrapped around your stomach. 
With your mind hazy from your first-ever orgasm, you don't even register that he pulls you out of the bath, drying you, and carrying you to the bed in the center of the spacious room. Your body already half asleep.
His gravelly voice pulls you out of your post-orgasmic haze. “Naive, little thing.” Suddenly he is trailing hungry, open-mouthed, and nippy kisses down the length of your body. Marking your neck and collarbones with angry red marks, biting down harder than necessary on the underside of your breast leaving behind imprints of his teeth, and making you hiss when the pain mixes with the pleasure, he licks a trail down your stomach and in a moment of clear-headedness you try to fist his hair and tug him up and away from your center but his hair is cut too short for any leverage. When you lock eyes with him, between your legs forcing them open with hunger and lust written all over his face you try to get away just for him to deliver a loud smack to your outer thigh before dragging you closer and licking a stripe through your folds with a loud guttural groan that you feel more than you hear it.
His thumb circles your clit while he alternates kissing, sucking, and fucking you with his tongue. When your squirming in an attempt to get away turns into grinding your hips against his face, his other hand rests on your stomach adding slight pressure and making you cry out which only spurs him on. The sounds that reverberated through his chest were nothing short of animalistic and when your second orgasm shot through your core, you fell limp against the sheets with a moan that would make you blush if at least half of your brain was still functioning properly. A new wave of panic sets in when you realize that he isn't stopping. On the contrary, he probes you with his fingers in addition to his tongue. You can feel the coil in your lower belly tightening again, heating up with his ministrations.
You plead with him, saying you can't take anymore just for him to disregard it with a growl, “You've got plenty more in ya.” 
You've lost count of how many times you came when he manhandled you around onto your hands and knees propping your hips up with a pillow. You turn to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him standing behind you with his massive hand tugging at his thick, angry-looking, and leaking cock with his eyes glued to your core, still pulsing and wet from all your previous orgasms. Without warning he grabs your hips, aligns the blunt head of his cock with your entrance, and pushes in. Your fingers dig into the sheets from the sheer stretch as you mewl and whimper when he drags himself all the way to slam back in. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time, with every thrust his fingers dig into your hips and you are sure there will be fingerprints left with how hard he is gripping you and the idea makes you wetter. Prompted by the delicious drag of his cock your walls keep tightening around him, as he pushes you closer and closer to your release. One of his muscular arms circles your waist, his chest flush to your back, as his other arm comes to rest next to your head with one of his legs still firmly planted on the floor and the other resting next to you on the bed for better purchase. This new angle combined with the gravelly grunts so close to your ear become your undoing and you hurtle full-force into another mind-numbing orgasm with Ghost following close behind.
“Come f'r me, pet.” Again, not a suggestion but a command and who are you to refuse him? So you do as he says, pussy fluttering from the aftershocks as he fucks you through it, thumb circling your clit before he fills you up, not allowing you to move an inch, keeping your hips propped up and when he pulls out which drags another set of whimpers from you he meticulously pushes his spend back with thick, calloused fingers. “Gotta make sure it takes.” 
If your consciousness weren't slipping away, you'd likely be alarmed, but instead, your eyes begin to close again, and this time, sleep claims you.
You wake to a heavy weight pressing down on your back, and it takes a moment for your mind to catch up with the events of yesterday. When it does, your entire body flushes and you attempt to move out of bed, only to find it futile. You're pinned beneath strong arms marked with scars—some from arrows, large and small, and others older, circular, and still appearing raw.
Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted as a thick, muscular thigh presses deeper between your legs, forcing them apart. Without much thought, you begin to grind against it, a primal urge stirring within you. Despite the lingering soreness from yesterday, a fresh wave of need starts to build, and any trace of resistance fades in the face of overwhelming pleasure. It feels shameful, but you can't stop the tentative movements, slowly finding a rhythm—until the sudden flex of his thigh makes you gasp, your eyes rolling back.
“So needy,” he growls close to your ear but there's no trace of anger in his voice, if anything he sounds pleased. “Come on, ride it harder.” He punctuates the sentence with yet another flex of his thigh and a nip to your neck, making you shudder but follow through with his command. As you grind back against his thigh you take a note of his cock stirring, resting heavy and hard between your bare ass. You push against it absentmindedly and find yourself pinned under him, your legs still held apart with his thigh that's now embarrassingly slick with your arousal. The visual of it makes you turn your head away, eyes closed and whimpering. Ghost doesn't like that. His massive paw of a hand grabs at your cheeks, your lips puckering involuntarily while he grunts at you to keep those eyes open for him. As he licks into your mouth, it suddenly dawns on you—this is your first kiss. You had already let this beast inside you before even sharing a kiss, and everything felt so out of order, that it made you want to scream and cry. Instead, you settle on throwing your hands around him and clawing at his back as he aligns himself with your needy, sore pussy and thrusts to the hilt without so much as a warning.
Even after yesterday, the burn of the stretch to accommodate his length makes fresh tears spring up into your eyes and roll down the apples of your cheeks. You swear you see his scarred lips twitch up into a savage smile at the sight of them before he licks them clean off your cheeks with a satisfied groan. In retaliation you dig your nails deeper into his sturdy back, hoping to break the skin and leave a mark that only ends up urging him to fuck you harder, faster. The sounds reverberating in the room drive you crazy; over them, you don't even notice a soft knock at the door but whoever it was scurries away registering the sound of the moans he wrings out of you with one particularly hard thrust that pushes so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Effortlessly he manhandles your legs on his shoulders to hit a different angle. As you struggle with the overwhelming feeling of fullness he leaves a deceptively soft kiss on your ankle before he folds you in half again and wrestles another mind-shattering orgasm out of you and succumbing to one himself, painting your insides with his spent. Pulling out, he doesn't bother moving, he simply rests his head on your chest between your breasts, squeezing the air out of your lungs with the sheer size of him. “Rest now, pet. Plenty of time for more o' that later.”
At that moment, you know there is no turning back; you've been taken, branded from the inside out. You wonder if this is truly so horrible, perhaps this nightmare of a man will drive away all the other nightmares plaguing your mind.
Or perhaps he is even more dreadful than your imagination could have ever conjured.
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taglist: @a66-1 , @ghostlythots , @rttxcmt , @september-22-1998 , @fluffysmiko , @gyusbrownie , @bumblebeesfromvenus , @magicalforestcat , @nommingonfood , @tami-doodles , @fateisnotafactor , @m-a-l-a-c-z-a-r-n-a , @nicolebarnes , @msdevil333 , @lilpothoscuttings , @tealeaftallulah , @not-reptilian , @moonfloweronmars , @aliceinwonderland-5678 , @marshmelloe , @i-love-you-just-the-same, @lazyperfectioniste , @tragedyinwaves , @thisisforthebest97 , @talkingcorn , @hxnneydew , @resplendantrosewood , @telvannitea , @the-casual-act , @hello-lemons, @kiwicopia , @just-a-sewer-goblin
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girlwtdragontattoo · 2 months ago
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Yandere elf x reader - Bath time :)
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Character and Art belongs to @meo-eiru! Please check out her blog ✨ Another BIG thanks for creating him!
This is a follow-up to my last fic: if you want to read that one, click here. I'm not sure if I'll do another one, a bit out of ideas lol.
Warning: 18+ content, drugging, general nsfw, explicit
—————
The water stung your damaged knee. Silas was preparing something in a wooden pail, humming some tune, while you sunk deeper into the hot spring. The water brushed your chin, as you glared at the back of the stupid elf’s head, bobbing back and forth as he dunked colorful fluids from flasks into the bucket. His long, luscious hair was levitating on the water's clear surface, covering his butt.
You were so close to freedom. He told you he’s enchanted the area now, stopping you from leaving entirely. No idea how that worked, but he showed you by pushing you gently against an invisible barrier. Your cheek had squished against the unseen partition, like when a human tests their cat’s intelligence against walls in those videos. “To protect you”, he explained in his sing-song trill.
If you hadn’t been injured, you would’ve made it. Away from this maniac.
“Look what Mama made!”
Silas held the bucket under your nose, smiling serenely. The liquid was a mix of pinkish goop and specks of sparkles. Your eyes lingered on the strange soup, then turned up to meet his excited face.
“What the fuck is this”, you mumbled crossly.
“No swearing, darling!” He patted your head. He didn’t know what the word “fuck” meant, but he read that it is bad for children to use. “It’s my healing salt! Doesn’t it smell amazing?”
Silas kept holding it under your nose. It did smell good, damn it.
“It will heal your poor leg. Plus, it makes everything feel a bit tingly. Healthy for cleaning up down there.” He gestured to his crotch.
Fuck.
Without warning, he dunked the solution into the bath. The mixture oozed slowly into the clear spring. The effect of it was almost instantaneous. You felt the biting pain ebb from your limb and you sighed in relief. Elf magic was so fascinating. If only Silas wasn’t such a freaking psycho. You would love to learn more about it. And then go back home and sleep in a bed without tits in your face.
He was right about the prickly sensation. You felt a warmth pulsate down there, as you absentmindedly sunk deeper into the water. Your gaze blurred and you felt the comfort of the heat engulf you.
Silas pulled you to him and placed you in his lap. His towering upper body remained out of the pool, the breezy touch of his skin a great juxtaposition to the searing heat of the water. To be fully engulfed, he would have had to spread himself across the whole spring, leaving no room for you.
You felt him grow below you. The effects of the water seemed to work on his form as well. His cheeks blushed.
“Be good, darling.” He breathed into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Let’s heal you completely.”
Your leg was fine. You didn’t need any more healing.
Silas’ lips brushed yours, his tongue slinking quickly and entangling in yours. The potion and his saliva were making you go crazy, your lap roaring with want. It was impossible to bottle up.
The potion made movement slow. You were attempting to push away with the last of your wits, but it came across as you gently pressing his chest together. He misunderstood and held your face up to his breasts.
“Drink up…”, he trebled, leading your mouth to his hard teat. It was hopeless.
Your wet lips traced around it and you felt the elf jitter under you with excitement. His hands were softly trailing down your back and took hold of your bottom, squeezing the soft tissue. The water delayed his movement, but you felt him lift you slightly, hovering dangerously above his throbbing shaft.
You could feel him against your entrance, nudging slightly. The heat consumed you, thrumming in the area, wanting. You released your lips from his chest, gazing dozily into his red face. If he was blushing more, you could not tell. He looked so enthralled; the big, dumb eyes full of devotion to you.
Silas crashed into your lips again, kissing desperately, lapping up every part of your mouth. The more saliva you exchanged, the more you felt yourself pulsate. The waves within you crashed, begging for relief. You tried to use your arms to push him off of you, but they felt so limp.
You hated this effect he had on you. You couldn’t stop yourself. This surge and needing the release - it drove you insane.
Floating above him in the spring, you felt him twitch there in unfair expectation. He was far too massive for you.
Silas wrapped one arm around your waist, pushing you closer into his body. Your breasts compressed against his and he moaned shakily at the sensation.
“Mama will heal you, dear…”, he huffed after releasing himself from your lips, with bits of drivel escaping his mouth. “I lov-“
You couldn’t take it anymore. You sat down on him, letting the beginning of him enter you with a strong jerk. He filled you up, with just so little of him inside. Your entire body shook from the flash.
Silas head knocked back; his eyes crossed as he let out the loudest yelp you had ever heard from him. He had never felt you like this before. He only dared milking himself in your sweet mouth, for fear of tearing you apart. But this… the feeling of your tight, velvety walls, the little he could feel of it was enough to make his world spin.
He instinctively grabbed your hips with a jolt and lifted you up and down on him. He wanted more of that sensation, more. More. More!
You were bouncing on top of him and felt every sinew explode with electricity. He bucked his hips slightly when you bobbed back down, but not too much in fear of breaking you, slowly deepening each thrust.
Although you could hear his pitiful “Ah! Ah! Ah!”s, your entire environment seemed to muffle. All you could feel was the inconsolable penetration. The way every jab made your groin burst into flames. The water splashed vigorously around you, as he guided your body into his. He lifted you like you weighed nothing. His head was still jerked back with his eyes in the back of his head, it seemed he was unable to do anything other than plunge halfway into you.
You couldn’t help but release low moans yourself, the note of your bellows making him tense up more. His large hands were clasping your ass, the flesh spilling out between his long fingers. You whimpered and let him consume you, every thrust splitting your walls further. The loud clapping of your bodies and the vigorous splashing, you were intoxicated. The sounds. The sensation. It was diabolical.  
You let out a string of deep moans, as you came, the wetness around his shaft increasing as you tightened your grip around him. Silas couldn’t hold it any longer, either, as he erupted within you, squealing from the overwhelming pleasure.
He spilled out of you. A puddle of white foam bubbled around you. Silas heaved loudly, blinking excessively and tilted his head back forward, staring dumbfoundedly at you.
He looked like you beat him up. Tears were escaping his rippling eyes, as a tiny sob hiccupped out of him.
Fucking baby.
“D-Do you feel better now? Have I healed you?”, he squeaked, pulling you into his arm cages again.
You rolled your eyes and nodded out of sheer vanquish. There was no point explaining to him that this wasn’t how you heal humans. There was no point explaining to him that mothers don't do this.
Silas kissed your head and swirled his hand in the water, making his semen drift away from you. “Oh…all the precious milk. Gone…”
He grabbed a sponge from behind him and started cleaning you feebly, his hands still shaking from the massive release. You saw a tear fall from his cheek. Without thinking, you brushed another one off his cheek.
He gaped at you after the gesture, pausing his scrubbing.
“O-oh darling. You really love me, don’t you? That’s why it felt so good…”, he smiled widely, more tears splashing out of his googly eyes.
You didn’t answer. You didn't know why you just did that.
Silas hugged you so tightly, you let out a wheeze.
“I love you too, my sweet!!” he squeaked and squished you more. “It’s getting late. We still need to have dinner! And you need a proper portion of milk!”
You closed your eyes, sighing.
Another milking session...
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strangelittlestories · 11 months ago
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After the occupation, the princess was confined to the palace.
Once a month she'd be taken on a walk around the city, heavily guarded of course, to show the people that she still lived. It also served, of course, as a reminder of what they stood to lose if they made trouble. The princess did her best go wave and smile and give the people what encouragement she could.
The rest of the time, her life was spent in musty rooms and dusty towers. She filled most of her time scouring the castle for materials which she would sew into more and more elaborate outfits, which she would show off on the days when she was allowed outside.
Indeed, the public loved their princess and her dresses so much they'd often sketch or paint them along the route and pass the images on so that all could see the princess at least was well.
This pleased the occupiers for two reasons. First: it kept the princess out of trouble. Second: it gave them a reason to sneer and they did love a good sneer.
"What a vain creature she is!" They would remark.
"Doesn't even care we murdered her brothers so long as she gets enough satin to make her little dresses!" They squawked.
This was unfair, of course, for to call her creations "little dresses" was to call Queen Murderfun the Needlessly Genocidal "a tad piquey". Her dresses were gravity-defying wonders lace and pearl. They were thunderstorms captured in velvet and waterfalls summoned in silk. She was a wizard with silk.
Still, she bore their mockery with a tight smile and careful deference.
"Please, good sirs, my home, my people and my city now belong to you. Let me keep, at least, this one last joy."
And they sneered and they crowed most unpleasantly, but they let her keep her sewing room.
Of course, they would have known their mockery to be doubly unfair had they realised the true purpose of the princess's elaborate designs. For hidden in the intricate embroiderings across her gowns, jackets and fans, the princess had encoded secret (and very detailed) messages. When she would go on her monthly walk, the city's loyalists would line the route, sketching down the patterns to decode later.
Thus did the princess transmit all the occupiers' secrets (unearthed while supposedly 'searching the castle for old fabrics') to the city and thus did she build her resistance.
On the day the revolution finally came, she girded herself in armour of thick spider silk and whale bone. She cut a fine figure with a lacy handkerchief in her top pocket and a razor sharp knitting needle keeping her hair up.
As she waltzed through the castle to open the door for her army, the Usurper King tried to stop her and she simply unfolded her handkerchief and showed it to him.
Upon seeing the impossible arcane pattern emblazoned across it, he fell to the floor with blood streaming from his eyes.
She always had been a wizard with silk.
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