#sacred inferno

[prolestariwrites]

Fandom: Nanatsu no Taizai Pairing: Zeldris/Gelda Rating: Explicit

Summary: When Zeldris is stationed with the Vampire Clan, he meets Gelda, the king's daughter. A passion ignites between them that threatens to bring down the uneasy alliance between Demons and Vampires.

[ombre-originelle]

Dirk Bouts - La chute des damnés (ca. 1470)

[grunge-seabunny]

Made the list alphabetical and added some more films 🩸🩻🔪

[torgawl]

#all I know is that Celestia needs to rethink what they qualify as a 'lone seelie survivor' cause man do they keep popping up#and by god do they all do the most fucked up shit when in love#like I get the ban on seelie romance now#it was for the people's safety#and we've only been seeing the results of watered down seelies/kin imagine a full powered seelie in love #an underground seelie organization in Snezhnaya that hates the cryo archon would be so funny#like what the hell did SHE do

truly!!! isn't the tsaritsa the archon of love, too? it's a funny concept that they would have beef ahah but yeah, i do not know if they are actually connected to the seelies, one could imagine they would have similar goals after the heavenly principles basically wiped them out?! pondering

#in the Perinheri book the name khaenri'ah wasnt used was it?#it was a land established before the domestication of birds and yet the Alberich clan was already well respected...#did they rename their society after the fall of the Crimson Moon dynasty?

#fed from an unknown source... a beautiful dragon of jewels...#black dragon that spews red poison and the dragon that was fought on Fischl's summer island play#a transforming knave with powers that burn away peoples memories and Princess Fischl who forgot the land she ruled #'if you still care for humanity than drink from this cup' and so the crimson moon's king did#it was something like that wasnt it?#then I wonder#what led to that decision? had the dynasty known for taking in children from beyond their realm already learned forbidden knowledge?#and to spare the rest they took themselves out much like the snake in inazuma?#but they wanted to see the fall of the Eclipse dynasty as well though... hmmmmm...

that line from crimson moon semblance reminds me so much of this line in "a drunkard's tale".

it matches the "unknown source" and considering the abyss is linked to forbidden knowledge maybe the leader of khaenri'ah did indeed drink that wine, literally or metaphorically. it's also curious that - if "benevolant master who commands all" and "leader of khaenri'ahn noble families" are the same person - that his bloodline has gone blind in one eye, according to the weapon description. and some khaenriahns do indeed hide one of their eyes, although i don't think it's ever implied they're actually blind. again, not sure if this is a literal description or not since fictional books aren't trustworthy sources of information. the weapon also says during this time, before the pitch-black sun covered the underground, "the ancient honorable clan ruled the vast kingdom". could this be the alberich? the text goes on to say "by the time the pitch-black sun shone upon all, the name of the crimson moon faded", which i assume means the crimson moon was forgotten, even in khaenri'ah. was the irminsul affected during the "clan-extinguishing disaster"? they also divide people into impure, the ones who suffered the curse, and the spotless, untouched by fate. arlecchino references the balemoon as a curse, if kaeya doesn't have the power of the balemoon, it would mean (by that logic, if it makes any sense) he is untouched by fate - which could be connected to why he's the last hope of his people. obviously it's hard to talk about timelines and dynasties as we don't exactly know how long the crimson moon dynasty lasted or what cause the shift in the first place. irmin was also supposedly the last king of khaenri'ah but are we even sure there was another one considering there seems to be a connection between forbidden knowledge and the crimson moon?

diluc mentioned in the lore of "wings of concealing snow", nice!!

you know, i wonder if the owls in this story are connected to the underground intelligence network that contacted diluc in snezhenaya. his character story definitely refers to the "observer" as a third-party entity, considering diluc's distaste for the fatui, the abyss order and the knights of favonious we can rule all those options out of the way. the way they don't go into detail about it or even go as far as saying its name, mentioning how secretive they are, i assume they're not a group we've met/are aware as of yet.

going back to "wings of concealing snow" though, the story is very clearly about sal vindagnyr. the description separates the population, if i can call it that, in two different groups: falcons and owls. owls are described almost as if they were councelors while falcons are described as ambitious, with the desire to rule the skies.

from the information we have of sal vindagnyr, we know there's 3 important figures with higher hierarchy: the princess (prophetess and highly connected to the frostbearing tree), the scribe and the priest-king (the princess' 'father').

the princess was able to foresee the future - for example, she foretold what would much later happen with durin - and painted the murals we can still see in dragonspine. she was specifically called a lovely maiden and described as having beauty and skill that was thought to be as eternal and pure as moonlight. it's also relevant to point out the frostbearing tree was very likely an irminsul tree. if we know anything about symbolism in genshin is that moonlight, knowledge and the ability to foresee the future are all key-words that directly point to seelies. and we can parallel this princess directly to someone like sibylla, mentioned in remuria as advisor of god-king remus, who appears as a golden bee and who protected the irminsul where an ancient civilization was located in the abyssal depths. the form of these remuria bees are very akin to what seelies look like and there's also heavy implications she was a seelie. it would make sense that someone overlooking the irminsul tree in ancient dragonspine was also a seelie, or at least related to one somehow.

as for the concept of priest-kings, they're not something exclusive to sal vindagnyr. we've seen the exact same depictions of crowned individuals guiding populations in tsurumi island and the concept was also talked about in the "guilded dreams" artifact set (the set focuses on king deshret and a sumeru desert civilization).

i think it's not that crazy to think ancient civilizations had similar social foundations. the way seelies cohabited with humans, also learned from the chasm lore, implies they guided humanity in some way as divine envoys (words used in "flower of paradise lost", artifact set about nabu malikata). or, more specifically, advised civilizations' gods/kings.

the wings' description also goes on to talk about "birds of the land of the wind" and say the owls gained dominion in the absence of light while fledgeling birds stayed in their nests. this happened after the nail was casted upon sal vindagnyr and the darkness drowned the land (likely the abyss, in reference to forbidden knowledge). if owls and falcons are adult birds in this story, maybe the fledgelings refer to the basis of what would later become the mondstadt civilization. the line "the nestlings would never know who it was who saved them" followed by "the dragon ... would also be forgotten" imply the saviour of the people was someone who ended up being forgotten. as far as i'm aware, there's only one being who was worshipped in mondstadt and ancient civilizations like the one in enkanomiya who ended up forgotten, istaroth. so, there's that!! i also thought it was interesting that the owls that "once shone brightly in the darkness" would also end up with the same fate, although there's no mention they ever disappeared, which brings me to the next point.

"a flash of red flames would reveal his silhouette for but a moment in the darkness of the night, before he disappeared in an instant" sounds a lot like what the owls were like to the people of mondstadt. diluc also only started his darknight hero endeavours after he returned from snezhenaya, after entering the secret organisation and rising quickly in its ranks. and guess who, in the manga, wears an owl mask? an owl is also diluc's constellation and these are diluc and kaeya's respective voicelines in the section "interesting things":

coincidence that kaeya associated the owl with dragonspine? moreso, some of diluc's voicelines are very intent on judgement/punishment: "time for — retribution!" or even "lay waste to the wicked!" which parallels fischl's "no rest for the wicked...". fischl has also said the retribution voiceline in "summertime odyssey". these are interesting parallels because fischl from "the legend of the shattered halberd" and "flowers for princess fischl" has a red eye - auge de der verurteilung or eye of judgment/condemnation - and her mission is to observe and weave the threads of fate. fischl not only parallels kaeya but also king irmin, though it's still interesting this theme is also connected to diluc. but how does this connect to dragonspine? this is the ending line in the description of "wings of concealing snow".

whatever that "greater trial" is, it also implies some sort of payback towards celestia and/or the abyss. as for who are the "we", if not the seelies who got basically wiped out from teyvat, i can only think of the owls.

at last, i want to leave here the messages found in the scribe's box found in dragonspine that clearly belonged to the scribe in sal vindagnyr:

the first message shows resentment towards the skies (it almost sounds like tsaritsa's desire to burn the old world described in the cryo gemstone). the second message refers dust and wind which are very suspicious words considering they can be connected to concepts like alchemy, khaenri'ah and either the anemo god or the god of time. it also shows intent in finding imunlaukr (the hero from another land that left sal vindagnyr to fight what i assume was the abyss during the conflict). the fourth message directly states this person was the last to survive and that it made no more sense to keep watch (of what? the fledglings like the owls?), probably meaning this person left dragonspine. and, in the last message it directly references khaenri'ah's establishment and early days. could this person have fled to somewhere outside of teyvat, away from the gods, like khaenri'ah? this really isn't that surprising when we have in account sal vindagnyr and khaenri'ah share the same written latin-based language.

i actually went a bit more in depth about sal vindagnyr and imunlaukr on this twitter thread, if anyone cares, but i'm going to include here part of it. the name imunlaukr means "sword", being a direct reference to the god ullr - step-son of thor and the son of lady sif. sif was famous for her beauty and unique golden hair, said to be inherited by her children. genshin's imunlaukr went on to pass his name on to a clan in mondstadt that was known for raising brave and gifted warriors that fought hard and died young. the clan adopted their progenitor's viewpoint that combat was merely for the entertainment of the gods and as such would fight anyone and anything for the sake of fighting, as well as enact war tales. do you know who else is a sword, happens to be blonde and has connections to khaenri'ah? dainsleif, which translates to dáinn's heirloom. dáinn (or dain) means 'dead' and he's a character in norse mythology. most of the tales relating to him depict him as a dwarf or king of elves. hehe, break time to introduce fun facts about nibelung. the term in legend has usually referred to either a group of humans or a group of dwarves but the name in genshin is likely derived from richard wagner's four-part opera der ring des nibelungen "the ring of the nibelung", in which the dwarf (or nibelung) alberich creates a ring capable of controlling the world, using gold he stole from the rhinemaidens (or rheintöchter "rhine-daughters"). the conflict that arises over the ownership of this ring eventually leads to the destruction of the gods and their home. continuing with dainsleif, in myhtology, the sword is involved in a so-called eternal battle between kings, initiated by one man falling in love with and running off with another's daughter. dainsleif was forged by the dwarves whose god/king was alberich, and the sword was cursed with insatiable bloodlust and would not be able to be sheathed until it had killed and any wound caused by the sword would never be able to heal. maybe the connection between imunlaukr and dainsleif is a stretch - timewise, it wouldn't really make sense as dain seems to be exclusively from the eclipse dynasty but khaenri'ah was somewhat recent in the scribe's notes - but i really don't think the connection between khaenri'ah and sal vindagnyr is.

furthermore, dainsleif is called "bough keeper", a bough being a branch of a tree - like the irminsul. if you notice his design, one of his arms has blue lines akin to those in irminsul trees. blue lines also appear in his and pierro's mask. the introduction to his character is written by a self-proclaimed prophet and mentions the desire to see the skies burning - like the message in the scribe's box - as well as desire for atonement of bygone mistakes and mentions of alchemy (gold being the end goal as it's related to reaching the magnum opus and the philosopher's stone - elixir of life and immortality). the symbol the angel figure in dragonspine's mural is handing to the humans resembles a circumpoint, that can represent gold. it's also something that appears associated with rhinedottir in one of the videos about the hexenzirkel (which makes sense as she's such a proeminent figure related to the art of khemia and khaenri'ah, very much associated with the cataclysm).

not sure what the conclusion of all of this is but i don't think it's impossible this underground intelligence network and the owls might be something connected, directly or indirectly, to the person from sal vindagnyr that might have fled dragonspine all those years ago or even khaenri'ah. could diluc and kaeya work more closely together than we think? considering the third-party observer that rescued diluc is said to be from the north when that supposedly happened in snezhenaya, does this mean this north they speak of is beyond the land of the tsaritsa?

note: i wanted to make some type of connection to the book "anecdota septentrionalis" or anecdotes of the north, as the book not only talks about snezhenaya but also tells a very fantastical and non-sensical story that includes other nations but i understood very much zero about it other than the fact that north from where the major plot takes place there's a tall wall in the middle of the sea stretching into the sky with countless densely packed human figures suspended "and though they had neither bodies nor muscles, their forms could clearly be seen". whatever that means, so i can't really make any inference to what it beyond snezhenaya.

note 2: forgot to mention but owls besides being birds associated with wisdom, in sumerian, akkadian, and babylonian culture, are also associated with lilith. she was theorized to be the first wife of adam and is cited as having been "banished" from the garden of eden. it's just a fun fact if we think of seelies, divine envoys who are symbols of wisdom and guidance, that got punished by the heavens after their ancestor married a traveler from afar.

[philistiniphagottini]

Divine Beast, With Grace Replete

This is really horny and so self indulgent it will probably rot your brain but I craved to write something so catered to me and make you all suffer. I hope you enjoy :)

cw. smut, penetrative sex, oral sex (fem receiving), squirting, creampie, heat cycles, vidyadhara reader, female reader 3.8k words, MDNI

nsfw below the cut

"Ahh Bladie~"

A salacious moan tickled the back of your throat as a spine-tingling shiver crept down your spine, causing heat to rapidly pool in the pit of your stomach. You shivered on top of Blade, his strong, scarred hands planted firmly on your hips as he pushed, fingers sinking into your pliant body until the skin spilled between his digits. Another loud moan bubbled up your throat as the fire in the pit of your stomach was stoked into fiercer flames, your eyes just as dazed as your mind as Blade dragged his rough tongue through your creamy folds.

Your wet pussy clenched around his tongue as it parted your silky folds, sinking into your quivering hole as he buried his head further between the apex of your thighs. Your soft thighs quivered around his head, wisps of long, dark hair tickling the sensitive skin as he forced you to sit, resting more of your weight on top of him as he happily suffocated himself between your thick thighs. You couldn’t stop whining for him, lungs pinching in your chest and mouth dry as you struggled to peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth. You could barely think past the thick haze clouding your mind, the rampant heat inside of you making your stomach tense as you desperately sought more friction.

Your hips shuddered as you rolled them with every shaky breath, your neglected clit throbbing for attention as you grind against Blade’s tongue. The tips of your ears turned hot at the obscene sounds coming from between your legs as Blade’s wet lips smacked together, tongue piercing your centre as it wriggled and twisted inside of you. You could feel it drag against your plush walls as Blade groaned beneath you, your sweet nectar dripping into his waiting mouth and causing drool to drip from the corners of his mouth. Black nails sank into your hips, encouraging the hedonistic rhythm of your hips as you were rocked back and forth on his greedy mouth, nails carving crescent shaped marks into your searing flesh.

A soft growl stirred in your throat, followed by a pleased purr as your sharp teeth gnashed together. Your long, serpentine tail swished across the sweat soaked sheets beneath you, gold scales shimmering beneath the dim light as it coiled and twisted. The knot in your stomach twisted tighter, your gold horns illuminating your flustered expression as they softly glowed along with the arousal simmering hotly in your veins. Your shaky hands gripped Blade’s throat as you leaned forward, allowing his tongue to slip deeper inside of you as the tip scraped against the most sacred place inside you. A strangled noise rumbled in Blade’s chest as you gripped his throat tighter, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly.

"Blade" you called again.

You were starting to lose all sentient thoughts again. All you could focus on was how your current heat cycle ravaged your mind and body, reducing you to nothing but a whimpering, snarling beast as you sought pleasure to sate the inferno raging inside of you. Your breathing grew ragged as Blade continued to indulge you, his freakishly long tongue brushing against the opening of your cervix as your pussy slobbered filthy around the slick appendage. Stars swirled in your vision as your hungry gaze raked over his naked body laying prone beneath you. You swallowed the budding saliva on your tongue, tasting the desire in the back of your throat as you watched the mesmerising way his cock would bob with every uneven breath you took. The fat tip of his cock slapped against his stomach as you mewled, drooling thick drops of pre-cum that stained his skin with beads of white. Your fingers squeezed around his wind pipe, a noise of approval stirring in Blade’s throat as you kneaded the flesh beneath you like a needy cat. You could taste his arousal on the tip of your tongue as you breathed deep, letting the pheromones of your own arousal mix with the heady aroma as it curled in your lungs.

Your claws sank into his throat as the blistering coil in the pit of your stomach finally threatened to snap, the pleasure you had been seeking so tantalisingly close it made your head feel giddy. A string of babbles spilled from your mouth, incoherent words mixing into the cacophony of noises that crawled out of your throat as your body teetered on the edge of the crumbling precipice. Your chest heaved with exertion, soft tits bouncing and nipples pebbling with arousal as the tip of Blade’s tongue indulged in the taste of your womb, bumping against the soft, gummy patch deep inside of you that made fireworks explode in your belly.

Your golden tail squirmed, thumping harshly against silken sheets as the coil in the pit of your stomach shattered into a million tiny pieces. You came with a primal cry, voice stinging your throat as white-hot euphoria flooded your veins with relief. Your pussy spasmed around the harsh push of his tongue, hot walls gripping him tight as your sweet nectar spilled into his mouth. A growl vibrated beneath you, causing your toes to curl into the soles of your feet as your back arched with a graceful curve, talons raking across his flesh as the pressure in your stomach continued to burn. You squealed as Blade pressed his fingers against your clit, the bundle of nerves shrieking from the sudden attention as he rubbed it in quick circles. You shuddered as your pussy spilled more slick against his face, pretty pearls of white dripping down your trembling thighs as Blade drank his fill.

You whimpered as his sharp teeth pressed against your fluttering pussy, the intimate press of his mouth making the heat bubble in your stomach once more as the infuriating knot coiled once more. A constellation of tears clung to the edges of your lashes as your knees wobbled, pleasure still sparking in your system as you fought to regain any semblance of control with your spiralling senses.

You were given a brief moment of reprieve when Blade finally lifted your hips, tongue parting from you with a slick pop. You breathed a heavy sigh, an ache resonating deep in your bones as your body pitched forward and you collapsed into the warm embrace of your nest. Soft sheets of silk and fluffy blankets hugged your body as you sank into the comforting confines, small trinkets of silver and gold brushing against your overheating flesh as you tried to reign in your harsh breathing. You hummed softly as you nuzzled your face into a soft pillow, your senses comforted when your reassuring scent mixed with that of your mate, Blade, tickled your nose.

You felt strong hands on your body, scarred skin causing goosebumps to prickle along your flesh as your tail shuddered in excitement. You were carefully coaxed onto your back, your dazed eyes gazing into piercing orbs of red as Blade stared down at you. A soft mewl rumbled in your chest as your tail lazily coiled around his ankle, your hands pawing at his chest as you tried to coax him into coming closer to you.

"Blade, please" you mumbled.

You couldn’t articulate well what you wanted. The stifling heat that suffocated your senses was already demanding to be sated again. You needed him. You wanted him. You desired for him to nestle so deep inside you until you couldn’t tell where either of you began or ended. Yet you could barely force the words out, mind and body too overstimulated and overwhelmed with your heat cycle that you were nearly rendered mute, unable to effectively communicate what it was that you wanted. Luckily for you, Blade had become so accustomed to your heat cycles that on instinct, his body knew exactly what you craved and how to sate it.

His eyes flickered like bright candle wicks as his large hands curved around your hips, rubbing fondly against your soft belly as he nudged your thighs apart with his knee. A pleased sound rumbled in his chest at the sight of your pussy dribbling slick, arousal staining the soft insides of your thighs as your twitching clit flushed to life once more.

"Does my little dragon desire more?" Blade asked, a teasing lilt to his voice as his hungry eyes raked across your naked body.

You dumbly nodded along to his words, tail twisting tighter around his leg as you tried to usher him into your arms. A lazy smirk crawled over Blade’s lips as he hovered closer, your nostrils flaring as the heady scent of his natural musk pierced your senses. It only caused your pussy to gush like a river as you ached with desire. You whimpered as Blade’s thick fingers ghosted along your dripping slit, toying with the pretty pearl between your sticky thighs.

"Your pretty little cunt is drooling for me" Blade said, his voice brushing against your ear in a husky whisper.

You trembled with want beneath him, a whimper getting caught in your throat as your sharp teeth chewed on the dry skin of your lips. You eagerly leaned into Blade’s touch as he dragged his hands along your body, back arching as his warm hands engulfed your trembling bosom. Your breath hitched as Blade leaned closer, his leg pushing between your thick thighs and offering you a small mercy to let you grind on his muscular leg for relief. Your slick pussy slipped along his leg as his hot breath fanned against the shell of your pointed ear, scarred fingertips pinching the stiff, pink tips of your nipples and causing soft moans to stir in your chest.

Your teeth dug the insides of your mouth as Blade’s lips trailed up, mouth hovering closer to the glowing horns nestled on top of your head. You released your bruised lips with an abrupt cry as Blade’s tongue swiped over a golden horn, a faint shimmer of light echoing as your horns glowed along to your sudden spike in arousal. A chuckle breezed past Blade’s lips at your reaction, thighs tensed around his leg as you desperately grind your dripping pussy into his leg and applied pressure to your swollen clit.

"Needy" Blade stated with a click of his tongue.

You raked your nails across his broad chest as he flickered his tongue along the branches of your glowing horns, your fingers scratching across pale scars and dipping into rough cuts as you pawed at him.

"Please Blade, need you inside me" you mewled, body twisting as you tried to offer up more of yourself for his viewing pleasure. "Blade…Ren…"

Tears dripped down your flushed cheeks as your emotions twisted and coiled. You couldn’t control how your body reacted any longer. You were just along for the ride at this point. Blade hushed you with a gentleness that most wouldn’t think he was capable of, hands cupping your burning cheeks as his thumbs dabbed under your swollen eyes. You sniffled softly, your tail weaving between Blade’s thighs as the smooth scales dragged across his skin. They were normally cool but during your heat cycle, the scales would burn as hot as the coals of a forge, branding all it touched. Not even a wince of pain crossed his visage as he continued to hush you, wiping away the tear stains as his lips pressed to your forehead.

"Don’t cry, little dragon. I’ll give you what you want."

He was a tool to be used. A solution to your problem. A remedy to what you craved. A sigh blew past his lips as your body started to relax a little, tension easing from your taut muscles. A soft purr vibrated in your throat as Blade’s hands returned to kneading at your chest, squeezing your soft tits together as he pushed his hips forward. A pleased moan escaped your lips as your hands caressed his hips, fingers dancing along his alluring v-line as he rutted the head of his cock against your slick clit. Your body thrummed with renewed arousal as Blade caught your lips in a searing kiss, tongue prying the seams of your lips apart and delving into the hot cavern of your mouth. You could taste your own slick on his tongue as you hungrily sucked on it, heat coiling low in the pit of your stomach as Blade swallowed every eager noise that tried to crawl out of your throat.

Your legs tangled loosely around Blade’s waist as the tip of his cock pressed against your sopping entrance, the round head catching on your fluttering hole as your body tried to suck him in. Blade couldn’t contain the mirthful laugh that rumbled in his chest as he parted from your lips, hips rocking forward as he slowly pierced your centre. Your hands scrambled for purchase, wrapping around his back as his thick girth started to stretch you. Your pussy burned with strain as he continued to rock forward, the pressure of your pussy being split open emptying your head of every single thought. Your tail coiled tighter around him like a snake, constricting his thigh as you moaned and clawed at his back, urging him to sheathe himself inside of you faster.

The breathe was stolen from your lungs when you finally got what you wished for, his cock dragging along your gummy walls as he seated himself inside of you. He was only halfway in when he already felt your walls constricting around him, your delicate body wracked with another mind-numbing orgasm as your pussy drooled around him. A snarl threatened to tear from his throat as he groaned deeply, teeth bared as your warm pussy squeezed him snuggly. Beads of arousal dripped down the sides of his cock as he continued to push into you, working up a slow steady rhythm that had you writhing in your nest of fluffy blankets. You pressed your heels against the small dip in his back, talons scratching down his back and leaving behind thin, red welts that made his vision swirl. A shaky breath escaped Blade’s parted lips as he brushed his nose along your throat, letting your intoxicating smell consume his senses further. Normal humans shouldn’t be able to perceive the pheromones that a Vidyadhara in heat could give off. But then again, he ceased being "normal" a long time ago and the scent filling his lungs only stirred his hunger for you as it gnawed in the pit of his stomach like a starving beast thrashing in its cage.

He tasted the perspiration on your skin as your insides turned to mush around the shape of his cock, his thick girth bullying your insides as the flames of passion licked at the base of your spine once more. Your lips parted around his name yet no sound came out, only your stuttering breaths as Blade’s lips wrapped around a pert nipple. Your hips jolted, the tip of your tail squirming as your eyes screwed shut against the onslaught of bliss. The brief moment of darkness was a small blessing as the pleasure buzzed around you like a persistent swarm of insects. You whimpered as Blade pressed the flat of his tongue around a hard tip, teeth clamping down on the sensitive nerve and sending a jolt of electricity to race along the curve of your spine. Your nails bit into his skin as another rush of pleasure tore you asunder, your pussy gushing and spilling more slick on his cock as he thrust deeper inside of you.

The hunger inside of you still wasn’t sated and demanded even more as your body was drenched in a hot flush, sweat dotting your brow as every hair on the nape of your neck stood up. You could feel Blade carving a path in the deepest parts of you, the fat head of his cock pressed against your cervix and aching to release a sticky load into your womb. Your skin tingled as his hips passionately snapped into yours, a forest of dark pubic hair tickling your clit as he ground his pubic bone into the swollen nub until it felt like your bones were going to turn to dust from the friction. You drooled as all your senses were assaulted with pleasure, the next orgasm building in your body threatened to tear into your body without remorse, nor surrender. You twisted beneath Blade as you finally found your voice.

"Blade…fuck…please."

Blade let go of your supple tits with a wet pop. He smoothed his hand over your round belly, feeling the soft bump as he moved intimately beneath your skin. His cock filled your insides with sticky warmth as he bullied it against your cervix, movements bordering on maddingly desperate as he craved to sully your womb.

"What do you want?" Blade asked with a purr of your name.

"Inside" you panted, tongue wetting your dry lips. "Please. Cum. Inside. Me."

You were starting to lose your voice again as you cracked at the edges, heart jumping up into your throat as your eyes fluttered open to stare into red, piercing orbs. Blade couldn’t ignore how you so sweetly called to him, luring him deeper into your warm embrace. It should be downright shameful how tightly he was wrapped around your finger. Perhaps he would have felt it if he wasn’t currently buried balls deep in your sopping cunt.

He pressed further into you as his arms wrapped around the bend of your knees, hoisting your legs higher over his back with a display of strength that had your mind and body singing with praises. He nudged his nose into the hollow of your throat, his sharp teeth following the searing trail his tongue left behind as he threatened to bite down. You tipped your head back and offered yourself up, needing for him to bury his pearly white canines into your flesh and mark you. You tucked your burning hot face into his shoulder as his teeth scraped along your throat and he finally decided to bite down.

You screamed loudly; voice muffled into his skin as his teeth pierced your flesh like a hot knife through butter. The sudden flash of pain only added fuel to the fire swirling in your stomach as the coil in your stomach unfurled once more. You lost track how many times you had already reached this same plateau of pleasure. Your hands tangled in Blade’s unkept hair, fingers threatening to rip it out his locks at the root as he growled into your skin, digging his teeth deeper until he could taste the ferrous bite of your blood spilling into his salivating mouth. Dizzying heat frayed every single white-hot nerve in your body, walls clamping and gripping Blade tightly as your slick juices coated his cock and abdomen with thin strands of translucent threads. Blade snarled into your neck as he rutted into you, unable to control the brazen heat in the pit of his stomach any longer as the pressure inside of him snapped.

Blade swore something foul, the words slurred into the hollow of your throat as your pussy squeezed him so tight he thought you were going to strangle him. He made you ride out the intense waves of your own lingering pleasure, your pussy still fluttering as he buried himself to the hilt inside of you. He groaned and grew still as ropes of his hot, viscous seed coated your walls, the thick, creamy warmth making your abdomen tingle as you were filled to the brim. The warmth overflowed and dribbled down your trembling thighs as Blade rocked forward, filling you with another heavy spurt that made you whine. The moment he let go of your wounded neck, you sank your own teeth into his shoulder blade, razor sharp needles piercing his flesh. He moaned hotly against the shell of your ear, teeth clamping down on your earring and rolling the cool metal around his tongue as your pussy milked him, squeezing another hot load of sticky warmth into your womb until your stomach was bloated with his thick seed.

Your tongue soothed the sting of your bite, poking against tender flesh as your own wound started to heal on its own rapidly. Blade had to work his teeth into your skin once more to leave behind the imprints of his teeth, lapping away any trickle of blood as he sucked on your throat. You purred like a contented cat beneath him, the dizzying heat clouding your mind slowly dissipating as your senses slowly crawled back to you. You were able to think a little more clearly now that your soft belly was round and full, instincts finally sated until whenever the hunger decided to rear its ugly head again. You stirred from your thoughts as Blade shifted above you, strong arms coiling around your waist as your positions were suddenly flipped.

A disgruntled noise was wrenched from your lips as you were abruptly nestled in his lap, thick rivulets of his seed spilling from your sore pussy from the sudden shift. You mewled at the loss, walls clenching tighter as you desperately tried to keep any more from dribbling out. Your tail shuddered when you felt the palm of his hand press against the small dip of your back, brushing against the sensitive base of your tail as the tip flickered back and forth.

"Blade" you whined softly, voice threatening to break into a croak from overuse. "Don’t move so suddenly."

A slow smile curled his lips as you rested your hands on his scarred chest, feeling his thunderous heartbeat dance beneath your fingertips as a soft chuckle stirred in his chest.

"Finally found your words?"

You hummed softly as you bunted your head against his chest, pressing your face into the crook of his neck as you lazily spread more of your scent across his body. Your draconic pride may have felt a little wounded if you weren’t in the midst of your heat cycle. Blade’s eyes slipped shut in a blissful moment of reprieve. He was going to be buried in your nest for a while and he learnt a long time ago that it was best to just accept his fate. He didn’t want to provoke your ire. Heavens forbid he piss off the Vidyadhara’s renowned Lady of Lightning. His lips twitched as his eyes slipped open, a hand idly rubbing at your round belly. If only others of your ilk could see their precious lady now…

With a soft grumble Blade forced himself to keep still and allowed you to rub your swollen scent glands into him, a loud purr vibrating in your chest as your tail swished happily behind you. His eyes followed the leisurely movements, lips pressed to the top of your head as you kneaded your hands into his muscular torso. He could feel the subtle grind of your hips as the lingering traces of heat stirred once more in the pit of your stomach. He cock was still rock hard inside you, assisting to keep you plugged up and stuffed full as your soft purrs of content filled the comfortable silence.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season - Part 6

If You Told Me To

Azriel Eris x Reader

Eris has a little chat with Azriel. As Y/N braces herself to face her mate for the first time since leaving him - she calls in reinforcements. Eris calls in one of his own.

A/n: This is the second to last chapter of the series. Chapter 7 will be the final chapter followed by an epilogue. I have been excited to share this chapter as, lyrically, the song it’s titled after is one of my favorites. Enjoy!

Part 5 Part 7

Warnings: Language

The Shadowsinger sat chained in a cell beneath the Autumn Keep. Comfortably lit, temperature regulated, nothing egregious. There was a dark, selfish part of Eris that would not have minded a bit of suffering to befall the male, a little seemed fair given the hell he’d put Y/N through. But Eris couldn’t do that to her. Certainly there was a small part of the mating instinct that would have left her in pain to see her mate - a title he didn’t deserve - hurting.

Eris begrudgingly placed a glamour over her scent that clung to his skin like fine perfume, such a waste to cover it with his own autumnal blend. It was not his place to explain or unveil anything regarding the relationship between them, Eris would have to tread carefully in his questioning.

He almost, almost said “fuck the glamour” and let that intoxicating-as-hell summer storm scent of hers fill the air and marched straight to the dungeons in his sweats and a linen tee, let him see exactly what Eris had been up to all morning. The look on the Shadowsinger’s face would have been so damned satisfying.

Alas, he chose to play the part of pompous High Lord, dressing in the most lordly of attire.

“Well, well, well, what brings you to my humble abode, Shadowsinger? You could have just knocked.”

Azriel snarled through his gag, nose flaring. To put it lightly, he looked rough. His once golden skin paled, dark circles prominent beneath his eyes, and multiple large purple bruises littered his skin.

“Ah, right.” Eris cleared his throat, giving the tattered male before him a disapproving stare. With a quick flick of his wrist the gag disappeared.

“Just let me fucking talk to her.” Azriel growled, his shadows darkening the cell.

Eris inspected his cuticles, refusing to drop the air of irreverence he’d intentionally given off. “Who would you like to speak with, Shadowsinger?”

“You fucking know.” He growled, rage limning each word.

“Say her name.” Eris replied cooly. Needing to make a point to himself.

“Y/N.”

And in that moment Eris realized just how far gone he was in his desire for Y/N. It was dangerous, the fiery rage that burned through his chest at the sacrilege of her sacred name falling from his desecrated lips.

Though Eris refrained from any external display of that inferno blazing inside of him, the slight tick in his jaw must have given him away to the awaiting Spymaster.

Azriel pulled and jerked with all of his might against the chains and Eris was well aware of his power, the entire Autumn Court was. Eris had backup measures in place that - even with his contempt toward the male - he did not wish to use.

“Stop pulling on the chains, Azriel.” Eris commanded.

The use of his given name instead of Eris’ typical “Shadowsinger” caught Azriel’s attention and the look alone on the his face could have killed a lesser male as Azriel’s furious gaze met Eris’

“If you fucking hurt her, I will rip you apart limb by limb. I will make it slow-“

Eris cut him off. “Was it those theatrics that won her heart, Shadowsinger? Truly, you bore me.” Eris returned to examining his nails.

“Fuck you.” Azriel growled.

Eris would ask Y/N’s forgiveness later for what he was about to say. At least he’d made an honest effort to keep his feelings for her separate from the situation at hand.

Without missing a beat, the High Lord goaded, “Funny you should say that. Was it not your fucking around that put you in this position in the first place?”

Azriel lost it. Eris couldn’t recall a time in his centuries of living that he’d seen such display of rage. He yanked at the chains with all of his might, his centuries of strength training apparent as the sounds of the rage and the grinding of stone on metal filled the cell. His efforts nearly successful in ripping free from the wall.

“I’ve asked you once to quit pulling, Shadowsinger. You are in here with just cause and will answer as such. You can behave like a civil being or continue the brute act and I will be forced to take matters into my own hands.” With that, fire sparked and was contained within his palm.

Azriel banked slightly at the display and for a moment Eris felt a twinge of remorse as his eyes landed on those scarred hands.

“Spare me your pity, High Lord.” Azriel spat the title with venom.

Eris shook his head, pacing alongside the cell. “Oh but I do pity you, Shadowsinger. Not in the way I hold back my fire given your past circumstances, that is basic decency on my part.”

With a mock bow, he continued,

“What I pity is how you wage such concern over Y/N’s well-being within my palace walls while blatantly disregarding the fact that you are the one who broke her with your own two hands. And now that she has built herself back up shard by fractured shard into something far stronger, even more rare than the shining gem she already was, you appear like a thief in the night. What is your plan, Azriel? Are you here to break her again?

Eris stepped closer to the cell. Flame igniting those amber eyes as he crouched down face to face with the bound Shadowsinger, grounding out in a low, predatory tone. “Because you won’t this time. Diamonds don’t crush under pressure.”

And with that, Eris stood back up, placed his hands in his pockets, that casual irreverence once again masking his features. “And I find diamonds to be quite precious, so I’ll be sure to cherish mine with the tender, loving care that she deserves.”

Azriel seethed, shadows raging violently within the cell. And Eris wasn’t certain but he could have sworn that anger was directed at their master himself.

Eris waited for more violence, for the filth that would spill from his mouth but the Shadowsinger only hung his head low, and to Eris’ surprise, large, salty tears began falling from his face.

Eris said nothing as Azriel sobbed. Why kick the male when he’d already downed himself? So Eris stood and waited. Eventually Azriel looked up again, “Please, just let me talk to her.”

Eris paused, taking stock of the broken male before him.

Just when it appeared to Azriel that he’d deny him, Eris replied. “You are fortunate that your mate is far more benevolent than I, she has agreed to speak with you.”

Azriel let out a large, broken sigh of relief.

Eris only smirked. “But she has conditions.”

—————————

I don’t want to look back on these days, knowing all the things you’d never know if I never said a word and let you go.

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N.” Eris spoke softly.

“I do, Eris. What he did, it’s too much. Too far. If you weren’t the ruler that you are, this might have been treated as an act of war.”

Eris shook his head. “You’re right. What he did is not acceptable by any means. But you, you shouldn’t have to deal with this after all you’ve been through.”

“It’s the right thing to do.” She spoke firmly.

He pulled her in closely, resting his chin on her head, those warm arms wrapped tightly around her easing the bitter cold threatening to frost her heart. “He never deserved you.”

Eris knew a mask when he saw one. Knew them far too well. Beneath the strong exterior she was presenting, his brave girl was nervous as hell.

I don't want to steal you away or make you change the things that you believe.

Eris escorted Y/N to a large meeting space by a roaring fire, sitting her at the head of the table, he to her right. One with a lesser sense of hearing might have missed the increase of her heart rate. That mask beginning to slip.

“Look at me, minx.”

Her glassy eyes met his as he reached forward, his hands enveloping hers. “You owe nothing to anyone. Nobody. Not to the Night Court, to my Court, or even to the Summer Court beyond what Tarquin has contracted you to do, and you especially owe nothing to the Shadowsinger.”

Her lip quivered and he spared her the discomfort of replying right away by continuing, “If it is your choice to hear him out, I commend you. You are far more brave and strong than you realize, and the fact that you are giving him your time today is an act of kindness in itself. Do not feel that you are obligated to comfort him or give your forgiveness.”

Eris lightly placed a broad palm on her chest. “What’s in there points true. Follow your heart, little fox. Do not do or say anything for anyone’s benefit but your own.”

Eris gave her the time she needed to collect her thoughts. His thumb brushed soothing strokes over the back of her hand as she composed herself.

Her voice cracked only slightly when she asked, “Is what I’m doing wrong? Are my conditions too harsh?”

Eris took a moment. Her heart racing like the best of a hummingbird’s wings as she awaited his response. He didn’t want to steer her any particular direction. Obviously, he wanted her by his side. Hell, he needed her by his side, she was as essential as water to him at this point. But her happiness and well-being mattered more than his needs.

He didn’t want her to go back to the Night Court as he knew Azriel would try convincing her to do. A selfish part of him begged to take her hand and bow on his knees before her. He was at her will and would serve her for the rest of his days should she only ask. But she needed to make this choice for herself. She was a summer storm, his little fox, who was he to stop her from flowing whatever direction she willed its winds to take her.

So, he wouldn’t ask her to stay or think of him at all during this meeting with her mate. However, he would emphasize what she likely already knew, that he had already fallen in love with her. That he fell in love with her spirit the moment that filthy string of curses fell from her pretty mouth when they met that first day. He wouldn’t pressure her by speaking those words aloud just yet, but he could show her in the best way he knew how given the circumstances, by empowering her.

“Y/N,” he broke the silence. “I meant what I told you. What you are doing today is brave. You are strong. To face a male who has not earned your time or presence in front of his own family to hear out his side of things, or whatever it is he wishes to say - you are so much stronger than you realize. Do not worry about what he or anyone at this table will think or feel. You hear him out and you choose what is right for you. The only person owed anything today is you and what you’re owed is peace. You deserve the world, fox.”

Those shining eyes of hers welled up. He lifted her chin with a long finger, “No tears, little one. You go in there and you take your power back. I will be out there.” He nodded toward a corridor to the eastern wing of the keep. “If you need anything at all, I’ll be waiting for you.”

She placed a delicate hand on Eris’ muscled bicep. “Eris…”

“Yes, fox?”

“I don’t want to do this alone.”

I want to drink from the words you say and be everything you need.

The creak of an oak door captured their attention. A sentry entered the room, his steps echoing throughout. “High Lord, Lady, the guests are arriving.” The sentry looked to Eris, “along with the guest you personally requested.”

Y/N turned toward Eris, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Bring her in.” He replied to the sentry, turning to face Y/N. “I thought you may want someone in your corner for this meeting.”

————-

Camila, Y/N’s sister, burst through the door, all bronze skin, bouncing black curls, and smiles. “Sister!!!” She squealed.

Y/N looked to Eris. Immense gratitude radiating from her lovely face. He nodded toward Camila, gesturing to go to her. The sisters ran to eachother, nearly tackling one another to the floor.

Camila giggled, gasping as she fought to catch her breath. “I saw a red-headed male outside with long hair, gorgeous tan skin, a wicked smile, and-“ she whispered not-so-subtly in her sisters ear “worship worthy thighs, handcrafted by the gods themselves.” She dropped the whisper act, continuing, “Oh my gods, Y/N, and a scar over his eye! Giving him that sexy mysterious look that you only ever read about in smutty novels.”

Eris choked as he realized who she was talking about, capturing the attention of Camila. “If I’d known what you were hiding here, High Lord, I’d have ventured over from the Summer Court much sooner.”

“I hate to disappoint you, Camila, but Lucien lives in the Day Court when he’s not at his apartment in Velaris.”

Camila’s mouth dropped into an “O” as she realized who the male was. “Well, onto the next one then. Who else are you hiding around here for me to fall in love with?”

The laughter was broken when the Oak Door opened again, a sentry announcing the next guests. “the High Lord of the Night Court and his general.”

Darkness suddenly overtook the room, and an instinctual part of Y/N caused her to pale. She’d very rarely seen Rhysand’s darkness so adamant, and it was never a good thing. Cassian kept a straight, stoic face, warrior’s stance on full display. This male, this was the Lord of Bloodshed and not the lovable giant she’d known for decades.

She remained frozen, Camila gasping in horror before deciding that she’d rather stare daggers at the brothers of the male who cheated on her little sister. Rhysand took in the room, paying no mind to Camila’s violent glare. When he realized Azriel was not in the room, his eyes landed on Y/N and the darkness immediately faded away. Rhys’ expression softened as he directed his footsteps toward her, opening his mouth to speak, but it was Cassian who yelled, “Y/N babygirl! Look at you!”

The giant male bound right past Rhys, running to her. Leaving no time for Y/N to brace herself as he whisked her up into a bone crushing hug, spinning her in circles. “Fuck, I’ve missed you. Never leave without saying goodbye again.”

As soon as Cassian said it, he faltered, gently setting her back down with his eyes downcast. “I had no idea, Y/N. We only found out the real reason why you left yesterday.”

Eris gave distance to the trio so she could speak with the males, Camila coming to his side. Eris couldn’t help smirking at the glare she gave to the Night Court’s High Lord and Cassian. He leaned in to her ear, his low voice barely a rumble, “I’d never admit this to them but while they are brutes, they’re not so bad.”

Camila only scoffed, waiving a dismissive hand in his direction.

It was true. Rhysand had given her space to heal but regularly sent check-in’s to the Summer and Autumn Court High Lords to ensure her well-being. Both Tarquin and Eris had to swear not to tell her, but Rhysand had contributed significantly to Y/N’s extremely generous salary as emissary between the courts. She didn’t know what emissary’s typically made so she never thought about it, but it certainly was not the substantial amount that she was being paid.

Once Cassian was finished fawning over his “favorite little ass-kicker” Rhys stepped forward.

“Y/N” he said. Eyes roaming up and down her body. She was more filled in and fit than she had been when he last saw her, the radiance had returned to her skin, the light in her eyes shone bright as the stars of Velaris. Gods, he’d forgotten the way his brother’s mate rivaled even the most vibrant of summer sunsets.

She held her chin high, meeting her former High Lord’s violet gaze. Rhys pulled her close and she melted into his arms. Not just her former High Lord but her friend. She knew this. And the warmth of his strong arms embracing her reminded her of exactly that.

That stinging rejection of Azriel’s betrayal had somewhat tainted her view of the Inner Circle’s love for her. They had accepted her into their little family immediately when she and Azriel mated and she thought they’d dismiss her just as quickly when she left.

His breaking of what they had did not change that the inner circle cared for her. Rhys held her close for nearly a minute, burying his face into the top of her head, whispering how sorry he was for not realizing just how awry things had gone with Azriel and Elain. She felt guilty for leaving them.

“Don’t you for one moment regret this, Y/N. You will always have a place in my home but there are bigger things in this world for you.” He nodded toward Eris briefly with a cheeky expression that felt a lot like understanding, approval even.

She swatted at him. “Get out of my head, busybody.”

“It was written all over your face, darling.” He shrugged.

Cassian cut in. “We wanted to come in first to assess the situation. Everyone else is in the entry hall. Are you sure about this, Y/N? You don’t have to see him if you’re not ready.”

Darkness flared around Rhys again as he nodded in agreement.

She stepped to Eris’ side with renewed confidence. “I’m ready.”

Eris commanded his sentries. “Go ahead and bring them in.”

Resisting the urge to press a parting kiss to her forehead, he gave a reassuring brush of his hand against hers and began to step away.

She grabbed his wrist. “Please, stay.”

Her pleading eyes spoke what she couldn’t “I can’t do this without you.”

So, he stayed by her side as they waited for the impending shit show to unfold.

I could be so good at loving you, but only if you told me to.

————————————————-

Tags: @going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime @thegirlinshadows101 @viistrength @grunchwench @starryhiraeth @macimads @feiwelinchen @acourtofbatboydreams @nebarious @haechansleafblower @melsunshine @thegirlintheshadows101 @plsfckmern

[novaursa]

The Price of Fire (Final Chapter)

- Summary: It was by grace of the gods that firstborn child of Viserys I and Aemma was born a boy and he lived. And all of the rest, scholars will later say, is by power of something more malevolent in kind.

- Paring: male!reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: 17

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @mrsjohnnysuh @your-favorite-god

King’s Landing looms ahead, the sprawling city spread out beneath you like a sprawling beast, its narrow, twisting streets a maze of stone and shadow. Silverwing soars above it all, her powerful wings beating against the wind, her silver scales gleaming in the midday sun. The Sept below, a vast and imposing structure of pale stone and stained glass, stands as a symbol of the Faith’s influence—a symbol that is about to be obliterated.

You guide Silverwing down, your heart a steady, unyielding beat in your chest. The wind whips past you, carrying the distant sounds of the city—cries of alarm, the tolling of bells, the shouts of people fleeing as your shadow falls over them. You can feel Silverwing’s anticipation, the simmering rage that mirrors your own as she descends, her massive form casting a dark shadow over the grand edifice.

“Dracarys,” you whisper, the word a deadly promise, a sentence of destruction.

Silverwing’s roar splits the air, a sound of pure, unbridled fury. Her jaws open wide, and a torrent of flame erupts, a searing wave of heat and fire that engulfs the Sept. The stained glass windows shatter in an explosion of color and sound, shards raining down as the stone walls crack and blacken under the onslaught. The air is filled with the acrid stench of burning wood and melting metal, the screams of those inside drowned out by the roar of the flames.

You guide Silverwing lower, her claws tearing into the roof as she lands, the stone buckling and crumbling beneath her weight. The flames surge around you, the heat searing, the smoke rising in thick, choking plumes. Below, the once grand interior of the Sept is a blazing inferno, the pews and altars consumed by the relentless fire, the sacred tapestries reduced to ash.

Silverwing roars again, a fierce, triumphant sound, and you raise your sword, the blade gleaming in the light of the fire, a symbol of your wrath, your vengeance. “This is what you deserve!” you shout, your voice carrying over the roar of the flames, the destruction. “This is the price of betrayal!”

The city watches in stunned silence, the flames casting eerie, dancing shadows over the rooftops and walls. The Sept, once a place of worship and power, is now a blazing ruin, the Faith’s hold over the city crumbling to ash.

You pull Silverwing up, her wings beating against the smoke-filled air as she rises above the burning structure. Below, the flames continue to rage, the fire spreading, the screams of those trapped inside a haunting counterpoint to the crackling of the inferno.

Your gaze sweeps over the city, taking in the chaos, the panic. This is your city now. The city that once a cheered for you now screams. And you will drive every last remnant of the Faith from it, root and stem, until not even a whisper of their influence remains. And they will scream more.

With a final, defiant roar, Silverwing turns, her powerful wings carrying you away from the smoldering ruins, back toward the Red Keep, where the rest of this grim play is set to unfold.

Within the high, forbidding walls of the Red Keep, the atmosphere is charged, every face pale, every movement edged with fear. Rhaenyra strides through the corridors, her presence a storm of barely contained fury. Daemon walks beside her, his expression that of cold determination, Dark Sister at his hip, ready for whatever comes.

They reach the throne room, the doors swinging open with a heavy, echoing thud. Inside, Aegon sits slumped on the Iron Throne, his crown askew, his face drawn and haggard. Alicent stands before him, her hands clenched in front of her, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and defiance. Beside her, Helaena clutches her children close, her face pale and tear-streaked.

Rhaenyra’s gaze sweeps over them, her eyes hard, unyielding. She steps forward, her voice ringing out clear and cold. “It’s over, Aegon. The city is ours.”

Aegon lets out a bitter, broken laugh, his head dropping back against the cold metal of the throne. “Is it?” he mutters, his voice filled with a hollow mockery. “You have the city, but at what cost?”

Rhaenyra ignores him, her attention shifting to Alicent, who takes a shaky step forward, her face taut with desperation. “Please, Rhaenyra,” she begins, her voice trembling, her eyes pleading. “For the sake of my children, for my grandchildren—”

“It’s not up to me,” Rhaenyra cuts her off, her voice sharp, final. “I am not the one who will decide their fate.”

Alicent blinks, confusion and fear flickering across her face. “What do you mean?”

Rhaenyra’s gaze is steady, unyielding. “It is for my brother-husband to decide. He will decide their fate as he decides the fate of those who betrayed him, who crowned you king in his place.”

Alicent’s face drains of color, her hands trembling. “Please,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “You must stop him. He’ll destroy us all.”

Rhaenyra’s expression doesn’t change, her eyes hard and cold. “He’s finishing what he started. He’s driving the Faith from this city, from his throne. And when he’s done, he’ll come here. And then we’ll see what justice is to be done.”

Daemon steps forward, his gaze locked on Aegon, his voice low, edged with menace. “You thought you could steal the throne, and there would be no price?”

Aegon’s eyes meet his uncle’s, a flicker of defiance in their depths, but it’s weak, hollow. “What would you have me do?” he mutters, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Kneel?”

Daemon’s smile is a thin, dangerous thing. “It’s too late for that, boy.”

The room is silent, the weight of the moment pressing down on them all. Alicent’s eyes fill with tears, her hands clutching at her skirts as she looks from Rhaenyra to Daemon, her voice trembling. “Please… please, I’m begging you…”

Rhaenyra turns away, her expression closed, unreadable. “It’s out of my hands.”

And as the tension thickens, as the silence stretches, you can feel it—the storm building, the moment before the strike, before everything changes forever.

And soon, very soon, the fate of King’s Landing will be sealed in blood and fire.

The heavy, iron-studded doors to the throne room creak open, the sound echoing through the vast, silent space. You stride in, your armor stained with soot and ash, the scent of smoke clinging to you like a second skin. The flames from the Sept still linger in your eyes, a searing, fierce light that draws the gaze of everyone in the room.

Rhaenyra and Daemon stand at the base of the Iron Throne, their faces a mixture of relief and resolve as they watch your approach. Behind them, Alicent and her children are gathered, their expressions ranging from fear to defiance. Aegon sits slouched on the Iron Throne, his face pale, his eyes hollow, his fingers drumming nervously against the armrests.

In your hands, held with reverence despite the blood and grime that stain your gloves, is the crown of Visenya Targaryen, its silver and black jewels gleaming dully in the low light of the throne room. You come to a stop before Rhaenyra, your heart steady, your gaze locked on hers.

“Rhaenyra,” you say, your voice carrying through the stillness. “I found this in the ruins of the Sept.”

Her eyes widen, the breath catching in her throat as she stares at the crown, a mix of sorrow and pride flickering across her face. You step closer, your hands trembling slightly as you raise the crown, placing it gently upon her head. The cold metal settles against her brow, the weight of it a testament to her birthright, to her strength.

“For you, my Queen,” you murmur, your voice filled with a fierce, unyielding love. “For Visenya.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes shine with unshed tears, her hand lifting to touch the crown lightly, her gaze never leaving yours. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “For everything.”

You nod, your heart swelling with a fierce, protective pride, and then your gaze shifts, your eyes hardening as they fall on Aegon, still slumped on the Iron Throne. He looks up at you, his face tightening with fear, his body shrinking back as if trying to meld with the twisted metal of the seat.

You take a step forward, your gaze locked on Aegon, the silence in the room crackling with tension. Aegon’s eyes dart around wildly, his fingers gripping the armrests of the throne so tightly his knuckles turn white.

“Brother,” he begins, his voice wavering, but whatever words he’s trying to find seem to choke in his throat.

You ignore him, your steps slow, deliberate, your gaze never wavering. You can feel the eyes of everyone in the room on you, the air thick with fear and anticipation.

Alicent moves suddenly, her face stricken, tears brimming in her eyes as she steps into your path, her hands outstretched, a desperate, pleading gesture. “Please,” she begs, her voice cracking with desperation. “Don’t do this. I know… I know there’s still a part of you left from when we were young. I know you remember.”

You pause, your eyes meeting hers. There’s a flicker of something—an old memory, a distant echo of a time when things were simpler, when you were different people. But it’s buried beneath the weight of all that has happened, beneath the anger and the loss that have shaped you into the man you are now.

Your gaze shifts past her, to where Helaena stands, clutching her children close, her face pale and tear-streaked. The sight of them tugs at something deep inside you, but it’s not enough to sway you, not enough to pull you back from the path you’ve chosen.

“Step aside, Alicent,” you say quietly, your voice steady, though there’s a dark edge to it, a finality that sends a shudder through her. “This is not your choice.”

Alicent’s face crumples, her hands trembling as she reaches out, her fingers brushing against your arm, her voice breaking. “Please… they’re just children. He’s your brother.”

You pull away, your eyes hardening as you push past her, your steps sure, your gaze fixed on Aegon. The athmosphere in the room is suffocating, every breath a struggle as you ascend the steps toward the Iron Throne, your heart pounding with a fierce, unyielding resolve.

Aegon stares at you, his expression set in fear and confusion, his mouth working soundlessly as he tries to find words, to find some defense against the storm bearing down on him.

“Please, brother,” he finally whispers, his voice breaking, his body hunched as if to shield himself from your wrath. “I didn’t want this. I never wanted any of this.”

You stop before him, your eyes cold, unyielding. “And yet you took it,” you say softly, the words heavy with all the bitterness, all the betrayal that has brought you to this moment. “You took what wasn’t yours.”

Aegon’s face crumples, his body trembling as he shrinks back, his eyes wide with terror. “I was pushed… they made me—”

“No more excuses,” you cut him off, your voice a sharp, unforgiving blade. “You took the crown, you took my throne, and now you will face the consequences.”

The room is silent, the air thick with the weight of what’s to come. You can feel the eyes of everyone on you, can feel the fear and hope and anger swirling around you like a living thing.

And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, you reach out, your hand closing around the armrest of the Iron Throne, your gaze never leaving Aegon’s.

“It ends here,” you say, your voice steady, implacable. “The time of the usurper is over.”

The silence that follows in the throne room is suffocating, each breath held in a suspended, uneasy stillness. Aegon sits rigid on the Iron Throne, his knuckles white as he grips the armrests, his eyes darting around the room, fear and confusion written across his pale face. Alicent remains frozen, her expression stricken, Helaena clutching her children, their soft sobs echoing in the stillness.

You turn away from Aegon, your voice carrying a calm, implacable authority as you speak to the guards positioned around the chamber. “Take them to their chambers,” you order, your tone brooking no dissent. “They are to remain there, under watch, until I decide their fate.”

Aegon’s breath leaves him in a shuddering exhale, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world has suddenly fallen upon them. He looks up at you, his expression a twisted mix of relief and resignation. “Thank you…” he murmurs, his voice trembling, but you ignore him, your gaze already moving to the next battle ahead.

Daemon steps forward, his presence a looming shadow of grim determination. “Aemond is still at Harrenhal,” he says, his voice carrying the barest hint of a challenge, his eyes fixed on yours.

You nod, your mind already racing ahead, the thought of your younger brother a burning coal in your chest. “I’ll deal with him,” you say, your voice steady, your resolve unyielding.

Daemon’s eyes narrow, the muscles in his jaw tensing. “You almost died last time,” he reminds you, his voice hard, his concern thinly veiled behind a mask of irritation. “You know what Vhagar is capable of. Let me go. I’ll handle Aemond.”

“No,” you say firmly, your gaze meeting his, a silent, fierce determination in your eyes. “I need you here, Daemon. To hold the city, to keep order. If anything happens to me…” You let the words hang, the unspoken possibilities stretching between you.

Daemon’s expression darkens, his eyes searching yours, his mouth tightening with frustration. “You’re risking everything,” he says quietly, the words almost lost in the cavernous silence of the room. “There’s no telling what that mad dog will do. You need to think this through.”

“I have thought it through,” you reply, your voice a low, controlled burn. “Aemond won’t stop. He’ll keep coming, keep fighting, until one of us is dead. This has to end. And it has to end now.”

The room seems to close in around you, the weight of your decision pressing down, the air thick with tension. You can see the worry in Daemon’s eyes, the anger, the fear he’s trying so hard to hide. But you also know he understands—better than anyone—the cost of inaction, the price of hesitation.

He exhales sharply, his gaze flicking away, his jaw clenching. “And if you die?”

“Then you’ll do what you have to,” you say, your voice softening, the edge of command giving way to something deeper, something raw. “You’ll protect Rhaenyra, the children, the throne. You’ll finish what we started.”

Daemon’s eyes snap back to yours, his expression fierce, almost defiant. “You’re not dying,” he says, the words a low, harsh growl. “Not like this. Not to him.”

You reach out, gripping his shoulder, the contact solid, grounding. “I’ll be careful,” you promise, a ghost of a smile touching your lips. “But this ends now.”

He looks at you for a long moment, the storm of emotions swirling behind his eyes, and then, with a reluctant nod, he steps back, his hand falling away from the hilt of his sword.

“Fine,” he mutters, his voice thick with reluctant acceptance. “But if you come back with so much as a scratch, I’ll kill you myself.”

You chuckle softly, the sound incongruous in the tense, heavy air of the throne room. “I’ll hold you to that.”

With a final glance around the chamber, your gaze lingering on Rhaenyra, who stands watching, her eyes dark with worry and understanding, you turn and stride from the room, your steps echoing through the silence, the weight of what you must do settling on your shoulders like a shroud.

This is it. The final move in a game that has cost so much, that has left so many scars. You know what you must do, what must be done to end this. To bring peace, or at least, something resembling it, to the realm.

And as you step into the cool, shadowed corridors of the Red Keep, the roar of dragons echoing faintly in the distance, you let yourself feel, just for a moment, the fear, the uncertainty. And then you push it aside, your heart steady, your mind clear.

This will end. One way or another, it will end. 

The sky above the God’s Eye is a vast expanse of dark clouds, roiling and churning like the surface of the lake below. The air is filled with the promise of rain, the scent of the storm mingling with the tang of smoke and ash still clinging to your armor. Silverwing’s powerful wings beat rhythmically beneath you, carrying you higher, closer to the heart of the approaching tempest. You know what awaits you in the storm—Aemond, Vhagar, and the final reckoning that has been a long time coming.

You spot them in the distance, a dark silhouette against the storm clouds, Vhagar’s enormous form dwarfing even the vastness of the sky. She is a beast of legend, her wings stretching wide, her body coiled with lethal strength, and Aemond, perched atop her back, is a small, dark figure, his gaze already fixed on you, even from this distance. The sight sends a surge of anger through you, but you force yourself to remain calm, focused. This is what you came for. This is how it must end.

Silverwing roars, her voice a defiant challenge that echoes across the skies, carrying through the thick, stormy air. She pulls back her wings, gaining altitude as you approach, your gaze locked on the monstrous form of Vhagar, her ancient eyes gleaming with a dark, terrible intelligence. Aemond’s face is set into grimace of rage and something else—anticipation, a fierce hunger for the battle he knows is inevitable.

You draw Blackfyre, the blade heavy and familiar in your hand, the dark steel gleaming in the flickering light of the approaching storm. The wind whips around you, tearing at your cloak, but you hold steady, your focus narrowing to the task ahead, to the fight that will determine everything.

“Come on, Aemond,” you mutter under your breath, your voice swallowed by the wind, the storm. “Let’s end this.”

Silverwing surges forward, her wings cutting through the air with a powerful beat, her body coiling and tensing, ready for the clash. Vhagar responds with a deafening roar, her jaws snapping open, flames licking the edges of her teeth as she dives toward you, her massive form a terrifying sight against the darkened sky.

“Dracarys!” Aemond’s voice carries across the distance, his command a whipcrack of fury, and Vhagar unleashes a torrent of flame, the searing heat turning the air around you into a furnace.

“Dive!” you shout, leaning forward, urging Silverwing into a sharp, gut-wrenching descent. She responds instantly, her body twisting and folding as she drops, the flames barely missing you, scorching the air above your head. The force of the dive tears at you, your vision narrowing as the ground rushes up to meet you, but you hold on, gritting your teeth against the pull of gravity, the force of the descent.

Silverwing levels out, her wings beating furiously as she skims the surface of the God’s Eye, the water churning beneath her, the spray dampening your face. You glance up, your gaze tracking Vhagar as she follows, her massive body plummeting toward you, a dark shadow against the storm.

You pull Silverwing up, her wings straining as she climbs, spiraling upward, the water spinning away beneath you. Vhagar follows, her roars shaking the air, her massive form closing in, her claws outstretched, her jaws snapping. You twist in the saddle, raising Blackfyre, the blade catching the dim light, a stark contrast against the darkness of the sky.

Aemond’s face is a mask of fury, his eye blazing with hatred as Vhagar closes the distance, her jaws snapping at Silverwing’s tail, her breath hot and foul. You can feel the heat of her flames, the searing intensity of her rage, but you don’t flinch, your focus locked on Aemond, on the end that is coming.

“Is this what you wanted, brother?” you shout, your voice raw, your words a challenge thrown into the wind, the storm. “Is this the price you’re willing to pay?”

Aemond’s laughter is a harsh, jagged sound, echoing through the storm. “You’ll die here, just like you should have above the Storm’s End,” he snarls, his voice filled with a cold, pitiless fury. “You’ll fall, and your family will burn.”

You grit your teeth, your anger surging, the fury of his words igniting something deep and primal within you. “Not today, Aemond,” you growl, your grip tightening on Blackfyre. “Not today.”

Silverwing roars, her voice a furious, defiant challenge, and she dives again, her body twisting, her wings folding as she drops beneath Vhagar, the wind whistling around you, the ground a blur beneath your feet. You shift in the saddle, raising Blackfyre, the blade gleaming darkly as you aim, your heart pounding, your mind clear.

“Dracarys!” you shout, your voice a command, a promise.

Silverwing’s jaws open, and a torrent of flame erupts, a searing, blinding wave of fire that engulfs Vhagar’s side, the heat of it turning the air to steam, the sound of it a deafening roar that drowns out everything. Vhagar roars, her body turning, her claws slashing through the air, but Silverwing is already moving, her wings beating powerfully as she pulls away, the flames still licking at Vhagar’s scales.

Aemond curses, his voice a harsh, guttural sound, and Vhagar lunges, her massive jaws snapping, her claws tearing at the air. Silverwing twists again, her body coiling, her wings beating furiously as she dodges, her movements fluid and graceful despite the size difference.

You see the opening, a fleeting moment where Vhagar’s massive body shifts, exposing Aemond, his face twisted with rage and frustration. You don’t hesitate, your hand steady as you raise Blackfyre, the blade poised, your heart a steady, unyielding beat.

“This is for my son you wanted to slay!” you roar, your voice carrying over the storm, over the chaos of the battle, and you hurl yourself from the saddle, the wind tearing at you, your body hurtling toward Aemond, Blackfyre gleaming in your hand.

Time seems to slow, the world narrowing to this single moment, this final, irrevocable act. You see the flash of shock in Aemond’s eye, the sudden, dawning realization as you close the distance, your blade aimed straight for his heart.

Blackfyre strikes true, the blade piercing Aemond’s armor, sinking deep into his chest. His eye widens, his mouth opening in a silent scream, his body jerking as the steel drives home. The impact knocks you both from the saddle, Vhagar’s roar of fury and pain a deafening, all-encompassing sound as you fall, the wind tearing at you, the world spinning in a dizzying blur.

You feel Aemond’s body convulse beneath you, his blood hot and slick on your hands, his eye staring up at you, wide and uncomprehending. There is no more hate, no more fury—only shock, only pain, only the cold inevitability of death.

The water of the God’s Eye rushes up to meet you, a dark, churning expanse, and you feel the impact, the icy cold engulfing you, pulling you down, down into the depths. You hold on to Blackfyre, the blade still buried in Aemond’s chest, the weight of him dragging you both down, the world fading to black around you.

And then, there is nothing but the cold, and the dark, and the silence of the deep.

An Excerpt from Fire and Blood by Archmaester Gyldayn

The Reign of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and the Aftermath of the Dance of the Dragons

With the death of Y/N Targaryen, eldest son of King Viserys I, in the skies above the God’s Eye, the Dance of the Dragons reached its final, bloody crescendo. His confrontation with his half-brother, Prince Aemond Targaryen, and the destruction that followed their deadly clash, marked the beginning of the end for the bitter war that had torn the realm asunder. Yet, the consequences of his life and actions would continue to ripple through Westeros for generations to come.

Rhaenyra’s Reign and Legacy

Following her husband’s death, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen held the Iron Throne, her claim uncontested for a time, though her rule was fraught with tension and unrest. The death of King Y/N left her heartbroken and enraged, but she remained resolute in her determination to rule in his memory. Rhaenyra's reign, while short-lived, was marked by a period of brutal consolidation of power.

The destruction of Oldtown, the ancient seat of the Hightowers, and the burning of the Citadel sent shockwaves throughout the realm. The loss of so many maesters and the destruction of centuries of knowledge left a scar that would never truly heal. The Faith of the Seven, deeply weakened by the annihilation of their central seat of power, was forced into a position of subservience, the remnants of their once formidable influence shattered.

For years, Rhaenyra ruled with an iron fist, her sons—Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey, Aegon, and Viserys—by her side. It was said that she kept Visenya’s crown close, a reminder of the sacrifices made and the blood spilled for her throne.

The Fate of Prince Daemon Targaryen

After the tragic death of King Y/N Targaryen above the God’s Eye, Prince Daemon Targaryen, his uncle and closest confidant, was left to navigate the aftermath of the war that had claimed so many lives. Known as the Rogue Prince, Daemon’s life was marked by bold decisions, fierce loyalty, and unyielding ambition. The loss of his nephew and the violent end to their shared struggle left an indelible mark on the man who had once been the scourge of the Stepstones and the terror of Oldtown.

Daemon's Role in the Aftermath

With Rhaenyra on the Iron Throne, Daemon took up the mantle of protector and enforcer of her reign. As the queen’s most trusted general, he was tasked with maintaining the tenuous peace that had settled over the realm. His presence in King’s Landing, commanding the loyalty of the City Watch and wielding the fearsome authority of his dragon, Caraxes, kept potential dissenters at bay. Despite his age, he remained a formidable figure, his sharp mind and ruthless disposition ensuring that no one dared openly challenge Rhaenyra’s rule.

Daemon's ruthlessness in quelling rebellion, particularly in the aftermath of the war, became a source of both fear and respect. He was instrumental in crushing the remnants of Green loyalists and those who still harbored sympathies for the late Aegon II. His actions were decisive and often brutal, his reputation for dealing harshly with any who threatened his family solidifying his position as Rhaenyra’s enforcer.

The Decline of Daemon Targaryen

As the years passed, the fire that had driven Daemon began to wane. The loss of his nephew and brother-in-arms, combined with the weight of his own advancing age, left him increasingly isolated. Those close to the prince spoke of his growing melancholy, a shadow of regret that seemed to haunt him. The Rogue Prince, once so full of life and passion, began to withdraw from the court and the world he had helped shape.

In his later years, Daemon spent more time at Dragonstone, where he had first made his mark as a young prince. He took solace in the company of his daughters, Baela and Rhaena, and in the memories of his lost loves and lost battles. The fiery spirit that had once driven him to lead men into battle, to carve out his own kingdom in the Stepstones, and to burn Oldtown to the ground in vengeance, seemed to flicker and fade.

The Final Flight of the Rogue Prince

It is said that in the end, Daemon’s last act was one of defiance, an echo of the man he had always been. Mounting Caraxes one final time, he took to the skies above Dragonstone, his dragon’s roars echoing over the island. Where he flew and why is the subject of much speculation among the chroniclers of the time. Some say he flew to the site of the God’s Eye, the place where his nephew had fallen, seeking some form of peace or perhaps simply to rage one last time against the cruel hand of fate.

Others whisper that he flew west, to the lands beyond the Sunset Sea, chasing some distant, unreachable dream. Whatever his final destination, Prince Daemon Targaryen was never seen again in Westeros. Caraxes, too, vanished from the skies, leaving only rumors and legends in his wake.

The Fate of Alicent Hightower and Her Children

After the fall of King’s Landing, Dowager Queen Alicent and her remaining children were confined to their quarters in the Red Keep under constant watch. It was here that the woman who had once been the power behind the throne slowly withered away. Alicent, stripped of her influence and wracked with grief over the loss of her son Aemond and the destruction of her ancestral home, spent her remaining days in isolation, her pleas for mercy unanswered by Rhaenyra.

Aegon II, who had briefly held the Iron Throne, was imprisoned and remained a shadow of his former self. The torments of his mind, compounded by the separation of his dragon Sunfyre and the crushing weight of defeat, left him broken. He spent his final years in a gilded cage, watched over by guards who once knelt before him as their king. His life ended quietly, his body found cold in his chambers, the crown of Aegon the Conqueror resting beside him—untouched and unworn.

Helaena Targaryen, gentle and soft-spoken, was spared much of the cruelty that befell her mother and brother. Allowed to live out her days in the Red Keep, she devoted herself to her children, her love for them a rare light in those dark days. She passed peacefully, though some whispered of a sorrow that had never left her eyes since the day the dragons came.

Daeron Targaryen, the youngest and only survivor of the old king’s sons, was missing for years after the fall of Oldtown and the death of his dragon Tessarion. It was rumored that he had fled to Essos, the scars of war etched deeply into his heart. He never returned to Westeros, and his fate remains one of the many mysteries left in the wake of the Dance.

The Legacy of King Y/N Targaryen

The war on the Faith waged by King Y/N forever altered the relationship between the Iron Throne and the Seven. The destruction of the Starry Sept and the Citadel not only broke the Hightower’s influence but also diminished the power of the Faith of the Seven to challenge the Crown. His brutal campaign, while criticized by many as an act of barbarism, effectively cowed those who might otherwise have stood against Targaryen rule in the name of the Seven.

The maesters of the Citadel, decimated and scattered, struggled for years to rebuild. The loss of so many records and the erasure of much of their accumulated knowledge left a void that could never truly be filled. The Citadel became more cautious, its influence waning as the memory of dragonfire over Oldtown haunted its halls.

The smallfolk, left in the ashes of their burned city, spoke of King Y/N with a mixture of fear and reverence. He was both the dragon who had laid their homes to waste and the warrior who had avenged his daughter, Visenya. His legacy, like his life, was marked by fire and blood, his name etched into the annals of history as one of the most ruthless yet undeniably effective Targaryen princes.

The Line of Succession

After Rhaenyra’s death, her eldest son, Jacaerys Targaryen, ascended the Iron Throne as King Jacaerys I Targaryen. His reign, though challenged by those loyal to the memory of Aegon II, was one of relative stability. He was known for his efforts to heal the scars left by the Dance and to restore the fractured realm his parents had fought so fiercely to claim.

King Lucerys, Jacaerys' younger brother, succeeded him, and his rule was marked by a more peaceful consolidation of the Targaryen legacy, though his life was overshadowed by the tragedies of his youth. The remaining brothers, Joffrey, Aegon, and Viserys, played significant roles in the court, their presence ensuring that the Targaryen line remained unbroken, their family ties unassailable.

Conclusion

The Dance of the Dragons left the realm scarred and divided, the shadow of the conflict lingering long after the final dragons had vanished from the skies. Yet, it also forged a new era, one in which the Targaryen dynasty emerged both weakened and strengthened, their hold on the throne unchallenged but their losses incalculable.

The legacy of King Y/N Targaryen, his war against the Faith, and the burning of Oldtown remain topics of fierce debate among the maesters and lords of Westeros. Was he a tyrant, a madman driven by grief, or the necessary fire that cleansed the rot from the realm? Perhaps he was all these things, and more.

But one truth remains unchallenged: the fire he unleashed, the blood he spilled, and the throne he fought to defend shaped the destiny of the Seven Kingdoms, and the echoes of his actions will reverberate through the histories of Westeros for generations to come.

[bratbby333]

literally just any smutty choso fic pls ☹️☝️

careful what you wish for, my sweet anon...i got a bit carried away

┊˚ ｡*ੈ ☁️‧₊˚ ❝ your majesty ❞ ˚ ｡˚ -choso kamo

⋆˖⁺‧₊♰ nsfw mdni ♰₊‧⁺˖⋆

cw: concubine!choso/dom!reader, infidelity, blasphemy, oral (f!receiving) wc: 2.3k edited by the loveliest: @remlionheart ༉‧₊˚. dumped my religious trauma into this one, i apologize

Upon the sacred grounds of your kingdom, there are only two rules to live by; No sex and no masturbation, for these sins grant you a one-way ticket into the fiery infernos of hell. This rule applies to everyone but you, of course. You are the queen, after all. You run your domain with unyielding power. You are a hard and fast ruler, feared by all who inhabit your realm.

You are serviced by your concubine, Choso, his timid, submissive disposition suiting you perfectly. You allow Choso to indulge in sexual pleasure that other inhabitants of your land are denied, while also relieving your own frustrations. You are his only exception.

You attend many assemblies throughout the day, some boring and some enthralling. A few banishments here, a couple executions there. You walk the grounds of your domain, taking in the fresh air, reveling in the way the setting sun kisses your skin. Your back is tense, and the expectations that the throne places upon you rest heavily on your shoulders. You need release. You need Choso. You send a nearby servant to fetch him, requesting he be bathed and brought to your room. He’s most likely doing his evening chores; he’s a diligent worker. Driven. Strong. Attractive. There’s no question as to why you chose him to pleasure you.

Strolling the marble walls of your castle, pondering the pros and cons of trade with a neighboring stronghold, your focus is interrupted by the lewd sounds of low grunts and wet flesh. You pause in front of the servant quarters, noticing the door is closed as you press your ear against it. The hair on the back of your neck stands upright, your suspicions confirmed while you listen in. No, this will not do. It is forbidden to partake in such activities and to do so within your kingdom's walls? Punishment is eminent. Your hand will strike down upon the offenders, mercy cast to the wayside. 

You push open the wooden doors, your enraged stare falling upon your concubine, Choso, ramming himself deep into one of your handmaids. His strong, muscular back positioned towards you, her cries of pleasure overtaking the sound of you opening the heavy spruce door. Fury courses through your body, but you can’t help but marvel at the sight before you. His broad, toned back tensing with every thrust, the sweet symphony of moans dancing through the still air. You grit your teeth, fists clenching on either side of your body, your heavy gown and tight corset making it far more difficult to breathe when coupled with your lungs constricting in a fit of jealousy. A knot forms in your stomach as you watch Choso toss his head back in pure bliss, his hips stilling as he unloads into her. Betrayal drives a stake through your heart as you watch your sweet concubine find pleasure elsewhere. 

Your voice broke through their post-coital bliss with ease. 

“Guards!” you shout, and not a second later, three armored men are at your side. The two of them jump at the sudden intrusion of your voice, Choso breaking away from his secret whore as his shameful stares meet your wounded eyes. The hurt doesn’t stay on your face for long though, blind rage soon replacing it.

“Seize her, leave the man to me,” you direct with the wave of your gloved hand. Within an instant, the guards pull the woman from the bed, dragging her down the hall before turning the corner, heading toward the dungeon. Her desperate pleas and anguished apologies echo through the castle walls. You pay her no mind as your attention falls onto Choso. 

“Your majesty, I-” he begins, but is abruptly interrupted by your palm suspending in front of you, your daring eyes begging for him to disobey your signal for silence. He knows better than to push his luck in this moment, the fact that he isn’t being dragged away with the woman brings a wave of hopefulness in regards to your leniency with his punishment. But his naive ideations of your forgiveness are all in vain as you bring your hand back down to your side before speaking again. 

“To my chambers.”

He stays frozen, his fear-stricken body glued to the floor by your overpowering demeanor, and your waning patience snaps at his continued insubordination.

“Now, Choso. I will not ask again,” you demand, eyes never faltering. He bows his head complicitly before reaching for his undergarments. 

“Don’t bother redressing,” you add, a tinge of seduction filtering its way through your harsh tone. His head snaps to meet yours, rouge painting his pale skin. He knows better than to object, especially now that you've caught him breaking the kingdom's holiest rule. Walking through the castle completely nude is the easiest punishment to digest. Heat prickles through his skin at the thought of what was in store for him and he prays that he makes it out alive. He inhales deeply through his nose before taking small, timid steps toward you. You glower at him as he gets closer, turning on your heels to exit as he dutifully shadows you down the hall. 

He kneels in front of your bed out of instinct, placing his palms against his thighs. You call for your servants to remove your dressings. He doesn’t have the gall to watch as you are derobed. He shifts anxiously as you perch yourself at the edge of the bed in your master suit, looking up at you with prayerful eyes, taking in your body as you sit fully naked before him. He swallows the lump that constricts his throat. You stare down at him, and he's glad he's already seated, because the burning blue embers flickering behind your irises make him feel faint. You are the most ethereal deity in his eyes, his unwavering devotion makes him want to shower you in worship and graciously accept the punishments you dole out. Punishments he unfortunately deserves. You choose him out of everyone in your kingdom and he’s grateful that you allow him to indulge in sexual pleasure, but what does he decide to do with his new found freedom? Guilt gnaws at his flesh; how could he betray you? What possessed him to shatter the pact the two of you shared? Lust overtook his body in his moment of weakness, succumbing to his carnal urges, and now he must repent.

“Disappointed is an understatement, Choso. How dare you desecrate these holy walls with your sins. You petulant man,” you growl. His shoulders drop toward the floor, shrinking into himself at your words, head bowed in submission. Your hand finds the back of his neck, grabbing roughly at his tousled locks, a fistful of his hair between your fingers as you bring his head up to face you. Your other hand squeezes either side of his jaw, forcing his lips to part. You suck in your cheeks and spit. 

“Swallow it,” you command. He obeys. You slap him roughly before grabbing him by his throat. 

“You defy me within my own domain. This is grounds for beheading. I know you understand the terms of living within my kingdom.” You lecture, your sharp words lashing against his fully exposed body. Even in the privacy of your bedroom, you hold the same power as if you were sat upon your throne, commandeering all who are present. His pleading glances dart around your face, but his body can’t help but enjoy this. You run your eyes over him, his abs tensing and his cock pulsating, his angry red tip oozing like he didn’t just relieve himself in that whore only a few minutes prior. 

“Look at you…pathetic. Just came and now you’re ready to cum again.” You laugh at his disheveled state. You meet his eyes once again, bringing your head down to his, extending your tongue to a point and licking along his mouth. He whimpers, lurching forward in hopes to thread his lips with yours. You slap him again, pulling your head back but keeping your faces close. You click your tongue against your teeth at his desperation. You release his head from your clutches with a slight shove, returning to your upright position along the edge of the bed. 

“So, tell me, Choso. With your infidelity in mind, am I not enough for you?” you ask simply, crossing one leg over the other. He’s confused by your question, his mouth hanging open in hopes that your statement is rhetorical. If he says no, it’s his head on the chopping block. If he says yes, you will laugh in his face as you question the sanctity of his loyalty to you. Rightfully so, as you had caught him in the act of betrayal. Your eyes bore into him, head cocked to the side. 

“Speak,” you snap. He shudders at the gravitational pull of your energy. 

“You are everything to me, your Majesty…everything and more. I-I will forever be at your service. I repent. I give my body to you, and only you. P-please…make me holy again.” He hopes he chose the right words to spare his life. And lucky for him, he did. In truth, you didn’t want to lose him as your concubine just as much as he didn’t want to lose his life. You smile down at him, your hands reaching out to cup either side of his face, leaning back down so your faces are level.

“Are you willing to show me how sorry you are?" you ask, softer now, eyes low as you lean yourself back on your elbows. He groans at the sight of your exposed cunt and nods back furiously, leaning forward obediently to rest his cheek on your bare thigh, the smell of your sweetness overtaking him. 

“Look at me when I address you, Choso, and use your words.” Your voice returns to its original harshness, using two fingers to bring his head back up to look at you.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Let me show you how sorry I am. I’ll do anything for you.” he whimpers out, trying his best to maintain eye contact with you. 

"Then make me cum, my sweet little concubine.” His expression brightens ever so slightly, gazing admirably into your eyes. This punishment isn’t so bad, he loves the way you taste.

"Can I touch you? P-please, My Queen...just want to pleasure you," he begs, his overwhelming arousal coupled with his fear of upsetting you again cause him to stutter. His eyes dart back and forth between yours, his eyebrows furrowed. His cheeks are blisteringly warm and he’s practically vibrating against your touch in anticipation. You're pleased with his desperation, nodding with approval, your lips curling into a mischievous grin.

His warm, wet mouth latches onto your pussy almost immediately, his tongue thrashing against your slit and lips sucking greedily on your throbbing bud. He hums in content, the taste of you coating his tongue deliciously, his body yearning for more as he devours you. You arch your back, thrusting your hips toward his mouth.

"S-so eager to please," you breathe out, words laced with the intention of mockery, your fingers interlocking in his dark, mussed hair. You groan at the sight of his lustful eyes staring back up at you through his disheveled bangs. 

"That’s it. Show me how much I mean to you…earn your forgiveness." Your words ring through his ears, spurring him on. Moans cascade from your plump, parted lips. He whines at your noises, the delicious sounds you make only for him. Clinging to the sweet melodies of your gospel, his pace picks up, sucking aggressively, hungrily, as if he needs to drink you up completely to survive. 

His thick fingers tease your hole before plunging inside, the pads of his digits curling perfectly to massage your sweet spot. Your head falls back, back flush against your silk sheets, grinding even deeper into his mouth. 

"My little slut…so thirsty for my cum, aren’t you," you gasp out, the tightness in your tummy intensifying. 

He hums greedily, continuing to pump into you, suckling harshly on your sensitive clit. He removes his mouth from your center before quickly replacing his tongue with the fingers of his free hand, rubbing quick, firm circles into your clit. 

"Please give me your cum...need to taste your sweetness. P-please, Your Majesty," he pleads, dipping his head back to your dripping cunt, lapping and sucking at you with fervor, the pace of his fingers relentlessly pumping into you. His deep voice sends ripples of arousal through your pelvis. His desperate words hang in the air, his frantic fingering and famished mouth against your core sending you over the edge. Your hips rut, thighs shaking as you cry out for him as you spray your release across his face. His rhythm continues while he works you through your blinding orgasm, groaning into you, tasting the hallowed juices he so hopelessly craved. 

His fingers slow, his lips detaching from your throbbing clit with a satisfying pop. He beams with pride, panting as he drinks in the heavenly glow emanating off your body, his lips swollen and his face wet from your release, your body aching as the waves of your orgasm finally simmer down. 

"My good boy...so precious," you praise, sitting up, your hands cupping his cheeks, his eyes lighting up. Your chest heaves as you work to regain your breath. He nuzzles his face against your thigh, his hands massaging your calves, sighing contently as you stroke his head, tucking strands of his hair behind his ear. 

“I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine,” he whispers into your skin. 

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚

author notes: wooo weee this was fun to write. had been dying to do a dom!reader, i hope yall liked it ♡ willing to do a part two of this!!

my requests are open! send a message here ♛ drop an emoji with your ask and ill add you to my anon club xx

thank yall so very much for supporting my work...i hit 100 followers today AND it's my birthday so i feel so grateful rn

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[genshin-impact-updates]

Version 5.0 "Flowers Resplendent on the Sun-Scorched Sojourn" Trailer | Genshin Impact

A competition as fierce as a roaring inferno, and a clash as dazzling as a cascade of iridescent gems.

On a hallowed night, the sparks ignited by warriors fall like stars, converging into the triumphant return of the sacred flame.

[idwt-money]

I See Through You.

MDNI 18+

3.2k words

Satan!Noah sebastian x Lost soul!Y/n

Christian/Religious themes, Satanic themes, Corruption kink, Mentions of death, Wax play, Oral sex (male and fem rec), Unprotected sex, Squirting, Dirty talk, Mentions of breeding kink

“The Devil is real. And he's not a little red man with horns and a tail. He can be beautiful. Because he's a fallen angel, and he used to be God's favorite.”

—

Noah's pov.

Fuck. It should be ME. I'm the fucking king.

—

Third person's pov.

He had been banished from the holy scene. His mind had been corrupted. He was God's favorite. The closest thing to becoming a god he would have ever gotten. Until…

His mind would run amuck at night. After the sun had set on the sacred land, laying in bed with his brethren just rooms away.

Day after day he had gotten sick of bowing down for the divinity. Growing like a disease. Growing and rooting itself deep within his bones, the veins that allowed his suborn blood to flow. Spreading deepest in the soul his God had granted him eternal life with.

Submitting himself to his almighty had become a tiring, weakening agenda. His hunger for power burned deep within his mind.

His position as the anointed cherub no longer satisfied his starvation for authority.

His attempt at dethroning God led him to be thrown, tossed, banished from the pearly gates every mortal soul had prayed to enter.

—

One of his now ex-brethren, bestowed a script to him. Curled together like an ancient pirate's map. On the scroll before him was one final message to the unholy individual from the Lord.

“Oh, my poor Samael. Where had I gone wrong? Pride, greed, envy. For how could you let them engulf your intelligence? To cause such rebellion? You, a lost soul, can no longer hold a position in my holy land.”

As he finished the script, he felt his soul burn and shrivel into complete nothingness. Nothing but a black void leaving him falling out of the sacred heaven he yearned to be the king of.

Falling through each layer of the Earth, he could feel his skin burning and aching as he did so. He landed in an unbeknownst hole, passing out on impact with rubble and dust falling upon him. On that cursed day, the eternal fire was born.

—

If you are cast out, what's your next move going to be? Will you return cold? Or will you turn up the heat?

Last thing I sold them, had been my dignity. But, the truth is the devil sold his soul to me.

To me.

To ME.

—

Noah's pov.

I had awoken in a displaced land. A funnel shaped cavern. Aggression and insanity ran cold through my veins. An inferno I was placed in.

If I wouldn't have an opportunity to rule the heavenly kingdom, I shall make my own. For lost souls, for sinners and those of who act upon blasphemy. For those who will not succumb to God. I will be the king of the mountain of purgatory.

For I will create a kingdom, not as its jailer, but as its healer. I will heal every soul that is not worthy of being in heaven. I will create an army, one so powerful that it can take down God and his disciples.

—

Third person's pov.

Noah, as he had renamed himself, had spent years stacked upon years building and crafting his domain. A safe place to heal broken souls that were undeserving of heaven.

He had now accumulated centuries worth of individuals who lost their spot in the promised land. They were all dependent on him as their ruler, their king.

He had rediscovered himself. He no longer was a spirit of God, rather the opposite.

He no longer had soft, white, pure feathered wings. Instead his back was adorned with a set of deep black wings. They were covered with coarse fur, rough to the touch. His once dark honey colored eyes were now pitch black. He had grown fangs that looked perfect to sink into a soft, flawless neck.

He had all he could ever imagine���except a love to sit beside his throne, to rule his domain with him.

His heart desired and thirsted for a true love. Although he had millions of souls in his kingdom, he hadn't met a single one that could give him what he needed.

They were all too much like him. He wanted someone he had coax upon him. Someone he could play a game with.

He hadn't taken a leave of absence since the day he decided to create his own space. Maybe it was time to change that. A trip to the mortal world.

—

Y/n's pov.

I sat upon a bench in the midst of a forest, taking in a deep breath of the midnight cool air. I had no place to go.

Parts of my soul, broken and seemingly unfixable. I was cursed to spend my days roaming the Earth as nothing but lonesome in my own purgatory. I would spend my day and night praying, atoning for my sins. Seemingly little, insignificant sins to anyone else were the reason I was stuck in this temporary state.

My Lord had promised if I could atone for my sins, I would be allowed into the promised land. I wanted nothing more, but my Earthborn body had long turned to dust, my hope slowly diminishing.

—

If God came down from his kingdom, he came down from his throne and we asked him if he'd take us back, he would surely tell us no.

We live and die in vain like treasure on a sinking ship. All in the name of a God we'd just abandoned and forget.

—

Third person's pov.

He had his eyes set on her. A lost soul, set in purgatory. Oh, how easy it would be to convince her to bestow her gift upon him.

She seemed perfect. Her skin having a soft glow to it. He knew if an Earth bound body could see her, they too would fall in love with the sight. Her glow gave off as a blue-ish tone, telling him all he needed to know.

As he moved through the trees, he watched as her panic became prominent.

“No one knows I'm here…unless?”

A small glimmer of hope shone through her sadness at the idea that her Lord had finally decided she was able to step foot into the holy divinity.

Her blood ran cold as a jagged finger ran across her skin.

She was so soft, the panic in her eyes set his body on flames. Her pure mind was one he could imagine 100 different ways to ruin.

—

Noah's pov.

“What are you doing out here by yourself, angel?” My voice came out rough and coarse, while hers was much flowy, softer than mine could ever be.

I took a stand of her hair, taking in her delicious scent.

“Wh-wha-! Who are you!?” Her chest was rising and falling like a scared little bunny, her eyes darting back and forth across my features.

“I know you've heard of me. The Prince of Darkness, Beelzebub, Lord of Flies, The Antichrist. Baby, I'm you're one and only-” I was cut off, her screech throwing her into a fit of madness.

“THE DEVIL!?” Her cry must have been heard for miles, to any other lost soul or angel that was Earthbound at the moment.

I pulled her to my chest, covering her mouth.

“Shut the fuck up. I'm here to make a deal.”

A deal with the Devil.

“I see through you, angel. I know exactly what you are. A lost soul, hoping to atone for your sins. Am I close?” I spoke my words slowly and calmly, not needing a miscommunication.

Her head weakly nodded against my heaving chest.

“I'm going to take my hand away, and you're going to let me talk. Do you understand?”

Another nod was given.

Removing my hand oh so cautiously, I let her sit back down, holding my finger up to my mouth, indicating she needed to be quiet.

“He won't let you in there, baby.”

“You don't know that.” Her words flew out of her mouth, cold and harsh.

“Oh, but I do.” My index finger softly gliding down her cheek. She must have been previously crying.

“I was his favorite, you know? I had more power than any other angel. I was second below God himself.” My hands now placed behind my back as I paced back and forth. I didn't miss the way she watched me like a hawk.

“I wanted more. I needed more. He was far too greedy. He casted me out, sending me falling through Earth's layers, down into the deepest parts of the plane. His sacred, holy land was too much to bear. So, I created my own. My own kingdom.” I watched the starry night sky, all the stars twinkling as I explained my story.

Looking down at her, her face was painted with many emotions. Confusion, anger. I smirked to myself, knowing I had her questioning the almighty spirit.

“B-but God is…is good. He's purity and kindness.”

I scoffed.

“Come with me, my sweet angel. Rule with me. You will have power and you can be your own divinity. I can give you everything he could and more.” I whispered the last part into her ear, letting myself smile against her skin.

“Why…why are you beautiful? I thought-”

“Thought I was red? With horns and an outdated tail?” My eyebrows furrowed together as I spoke.

—

I see through you, I know what you are. I see the devil more than I see God.

—

Y/n's pov.

He was beautiful. Gorgeously put together, with a black suit, dress shoes and tattoos staining his skin. He was so enticing.

My head was dizzy and I could feel my core slowly weakening. This was absolute insanity.

I had no idea why I felt the need to say yes to his offer. His words were smooth like fresh honey floating through my ears.

Although tempting, I had to be strong. He could be lying. I had read the bible 5 times before passing to know this is what he does.

He's seducing, he tempts your faith, your religion. He gets in your head. He tempts you with bad decisions. He had powers beyond man. He was the reason Eve sunk her teeth into the forbidden fruit. He was the snake that left hissing in your ears after you had committed a sin.

“Come with me, I can make all your dreams come true, little one. I can make you belong.”

Belong? Your soul ached and yearned to belong somewhere.

“You can give in to your sins, free of guilt. Free of shame. No worries of fear of punishment.” He made a tempting debate.

Is this what you wanted for yourself?

“He'll leave you alone, you won't see him like you'll see me. Is that what you would like? He'll send messengers to talk through. You won't catch even a glimpse of him.”

I couldn't stand the thought. My mouth spoke before my brain could speak.

“Okay. I'll come with you.”

—

Third person's pov.

A sinister smile spread across his lips.

“This will hurt a little.” He muttered as he tilted her head to the side. He sunk his teeth into her neck, covering her mouth as to muffle her cries. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he felt their minds morphing into one.

Giving her a mark. A mark to tell everyone how easily he had corrupted her mind. How she was now his.

Noah pulled away, licking away the blood that resided on his lips.

As for Y/n, she felt her body burn hot. Aching pain spread through her body, her soft blue glow now turning orange.

She watched as he cleaned up the mess, licking the blood away on her neck.

“Oh, my sweet angel. You've made the right decision.”

—

As the pair now made their way into the kingdom, innumerable souls congratulated their king on his new found love.

They soon after found themselves in the Devil's bedroom. She hadn't taken Satan for one to sleep much.

“It isn't for sleeping, I promise that, baby.” He chuckled at his own comment.

As soon as she took a spot on the bed, covered in soft, red sheets, he was attacking her lips.

—

Y/n's pov.

You weren't complaining. He had promised you an eternal life, free of guilt. What would be the point in worrying about it now.

You let his lips venture your body, his fangs gliding across your skin every once in a while.

He had started leaving purple marks across your neck, close to the freshly marked wound he had given you previously. A way to say you were his.

“Oh, fuck. Baby, I'm going to corrupt your precious little mind. Fill it full with sinful thoughts about me.”

He took your hand, moving it down his shirt, down to where his cock was painfully straining against his pants.

It caused you to ache beneath your own. Your mind went dizzy with the thought of him. He was gorgeous and was about to give you everything you could ever want.

You had taken some initiative and unzipped his pants while he took his tie off, throwing it somewhere unbeknownst to you. He undid the first couple of buttons on his shirt and you, quite frankly, gawked over his body.

He was toned. He had tattoos littering his skin everywhere. His dark eyes watched as you took a long once over of his body.

“Fuck, you're beautiful. Truly.” Your words were quiet, seemingly scared that God would somehow hear or see the activities the two of you were getting up to.

“As are you. You'll be perfect at my side. For the rest of forever.” His hand caressed your face. He did truly find you breathtaking.

Your big doe eyes were something he could find himself staring into forever.

You were now something the holy trinity could never take away from him.

You pulled his pants down, causing his cock to be set free. Something roared in you.

You licked your lips before devouring him.

You swallowed his cock, slowly taking more each time your head bobbed up and down. Soon, he was reaching the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him.

His hands were placed at either side of your hand, using it as leverage to fuck into your throat. You took it so well that he could lose himself in your touch. The way your arms were wrapped around his thighs, helping him go deeper into your throat made him weak and want to crumble.

You felt your cunt wetten for him. The sight of his hair falling out of place and his chest heaving through your teary eyes made you need him. You wanted him to enter your temple and destroy it.

His thrusts became sloppy, faltering here and there. You pulled away from his cock, muttering filthy sins as you stroked him.

“Let me taste you. Give it to me, baby.”

You were forced down onto him once more as he let his seed spray down your throat. Letting it coat your insides felt like bliss.

It was mere seconds before he led you to lay on your back. His hands were clawing and scraping against you, in such need and hurry to remove you of your clothes.

The second your panties hit the floor Noah was nose deep in your pussy, taking in your taste and smell.

Your eyes rolled back as your mouth was left gaped. A hand flew into his hair, pulling and tugging at it, causing his once perfect hair to now be disheveled.

“Oh- oh fuck-” You gasped as he licked and slurped along your clit. No man had ever pleased you as Noah was right now.

He wasn't a man. He was a fucking demon.

His middle and ring finger slid across your wetness before plunging into you.

Something in Noah felt like this is what he had been waiting for. This is what he was made for. He was made for you.

His fingers quickly found the right way to please you. The calloused pads of his fingers rubbing the right spot.

You bit your bottom lip and he somehow knew you were close to toppling over the edge.

“Do it. Let yourself go. Let yourself be mine.” His voice came out as a growl against your cunt as his fingers quickened.

“No- I can't I'm gonna-” You couldn't finish your sentence before your orgasm took over your mind.

Your orgasm left a mess everywhere. You hadn't known until you heard the wet sloshes against Noah's palm.

“Oh my- I've never done that before. How-how did you…?”

“Done what? Squirt? Fuck, angel. I'm Satan himself. Did you doubt me?” He had an shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“Shut the hell up and fuck me.” Something took over you, all you could think about was his cock ramming into you. Destroying every thought you'd ever had of God and those “precious” pearly white gates.

“Look at you, mere moments ago you were trembling with fear. Now you're begging for my fucking cock.” He chuckled and crawled up your body, kissing and licking at your skin.

It didn't take long for him to position your legs over his shoulders, feeling his cock stretch you out as he entered you.

“Your body is a temple. And I'm here to fucking destroy it. I'm here to get in your pretty little head. Corrupt those holy thoughts with distasteful, nasty, sinful thoughts.” His words were venom digging into your brain, making your mind their home.

His thrusts were becoming faster, now that your pussy had gotten used to his size.

He had grabbed a candle that was permanently lit by his bed and watched the wax drip onto your skin. You hissed as each droplet made its spot on your skin.

Slowly but surely, Noah had made an upside down cross upon your stomach. You couldn't care for the dull burn the wax drips had left as they dried.

You could feel Noah's cock pushing its way into your fucking stomach. He was so inhumanly big, you almost forgot where you were and who you were getting fucked by.

Once the wax had set, you pulled Noah into you, clawing your nails deep into his skin. He growled over the feeling of your nails making dents so deep into his immoral skin.

Before you knew it, Noah's shoulders were bleeding and you were both merging into one.

“Noah, please, please harder!” Your words were barely decipherable as your second orgasm was approaching.

“Now. Give it to me now.” His words were enough to send you into a spiral.

As you had your own orgasm, Noah shot hot strings of seed deep into your womb.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna put a baby here one day.” Noah said as he rubbed your stomach.

He took the blood from his bruised shoulder onto his thumb, placing it onto your tongue.

"Forever, we are one."

He finally had a respective queen to be by his side for the rest of eternity.

—

Woke up in the light convinced my life had made it to its end. Burning up beneath the sun, while my father drained of blood.

If he's there, I've got a message for the man that's up above.

Fuck. You.

Taglist: @vinyardmauro @missduffsblog @lma1986 @embracethereaper42 @skulliecadaver-blog @mrscevans @viofcrows @gipsonnikki @philomenie @bloody-delusion-expert @bloodymug @millyhelp @fuckyouimstillstanding @cookiesupplier @concreteangel92 @bruisedleftknee @sprokat @itsafullmoon @darling-millicent-aubrey @eclipseeetop

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wolf’s den // sakusa kiyoomi & miya atsumu (pt. 1)

tw ⇢ incest(reader is sakusa’s little sister), dark content, possessive/obsessive behavior, male masturbation, voyeurism, implied age gap, ‘brother’s best friend’ but darker, sakuatsu if you squint

wc ⇢ 5.2k

Atsumu let out a low whistle as he stepped into Sakusa's pristine apartment. Every surface gleamed spotlessly - as if belonging in an interior design catalog rather than a living space.

"Nice place ya got here, Omi-kun," he drawled while shrugging off his coat. "Though I guess I shoulda expected nothing less from Mr. Neat Freak himself."

A muffled grunt echoed from what he assumed was the kitchen area. "Just don't track dirt everywhere. Wipe your feet properly."

Rolling his eyes, Atsumu made an exaggerated show of stomping his sneakers against the entry mat with excessive force. "There, happy? Should I roll out the sanitizing mat too while I'm at it?"

The familiar sound of Sakusa's irritated sigh reached his ears, prompting Atsumu's signature shiteating grin to spread across his lips. He opened his mouth to volley another playfully needling jab, already anticipating Sakusa's prickly clap back.

But the snarky retort never came.

Instead, a sweet, melodious voice - utterly at odds with the pristine environment's severity - pierced through the air like a windchime's gentle chorus.

"Kiyoomi! You didn't tell me we'd have a guest!"

Atsumu turned towards the hallway just in time to witness you practically flounce into the living area on a pocket of bubbly, effortless energy. You moved with the unbridled exuberance and grace of a rambunctious puppy, arms carving unselfconscious arcs as you ambled inside.

Despite your modest, unassuming stature, that snug school uniform skirt shamelessly rode up with each unhurried stride - teasing at the prospect of those long, tempting legs disappearing beneath the fabric. Atsumu felt his throat go statically dry as you gravitated straight towards Sakusa with a radiant, adoring beam.

Without preamble, you looped those deceptively slender arms around one of his in an unmistakably childish, clinging manner. Sakusa's spine stiffened ever so subtly at your overtly tactile invasion of his personal space. But rather than recoiling or deterring your brazenly cuddly behavior, his posture seemed to...settle in resignation as you peered up at him through your lashes with naked affection.

"You should've told me we'd have company!" you mock-pouted in that same lilting, sweet tone. "I would've put on something cute just for your friend!"

Friend. The innocuous word detonated in Atsumu's hindbrain with all the force of a thermal detonation, setting off a searing chain reaction of dark hunger he couldn't quite put a name to. His focus remained utterly honed on the way your pursed lips quivered with each whimsically petulant syllable.

Before he could even begin processing the sordid spiral of his thoughts, you surged up on your tiptoes to plant a sweet, lingering peck against Sakusa's cheek. Atsumu watched with morbid fascination as his notoriously touch-averse teammate remained utterly impassive. No visible discomfort or revulsion danced across those typically severe features - despite your cloying, touchy display of pure sisterly adoration.

"There, all better!" you giggled in that tinkling melodic timbre. As if openly doting upon the prickliest germaphobe Atsumu had ever known was the most natural thing in the world.

For the briefest of instants, the world around them may as well have evaporated into irrelevance. All that existed was the image of you beaming up at Sakusa with all the radiant innocence and unaffected openness of a sunflower following the day's warmth. Atsumu felt his pulse throb thickly as you drank in that beatific sight hungrily - as if witnessing something sacred and pure in a way he could never recreate or taint.

Then, the moment fractured.

It was as if an unseen switch had been flipped, igniting the relentless inferno of territoriality that governed Sakusa's every action where you were involved. The muscles in his bicep tensed like braided steel cables as his arm remained unnaturally rigid within the circle of your embrace.

But it was the infinitesimal slide and flex of Sakusa's other hand snaking around the supple curve of your lower back that sent aotectic surge of unease ricocheting through Atsumu's core. His splayed fingers spasmed possessively, inexorably drawing you flush against his side as those obsidian eyes drilled into Atsumu.

The silent warning blazed with searing clarity, a wordless edict burned straight from Sakusa's very marrow: this creature currently basking in your affection belongs to me...and me alone.

In that moment, Atsumu felt incredibly small - as if he were an intruder bearing witness to something intensely personal, sacred...unhinged. As if an unfurling new reality sat perched at his core, waiting to sink in its bloody talons at the slightest provocation.

You, meanwhile, remained entirely blissfully ignorant of the undercurrents surging between the two men as you beamed up at Sakusa. With another windchime peal of girlish laughter, you disentangled yourself just enough to bestow that radiant, effervescent smile onto Atsumu.

"Well hi there!" you chirped, that brilliant beam of innocent curiosity fixing onto Atsumu. "I don't think we've had the pleasure of being introduced yet."

With a sway of your hips, you sidled closer until you were openly invading his personal space. Atsumu felt like a deer stumbling into the scope of a hunter's crosshairs as your sugary floral scent and radiant warmth washed over him. Up close, he could make out the dusting of faint freckles spanning your features and the way your tongue instinctively wet your lower lip.

"I'm Kiyoomi's little sister!" you trilled with windchime sweetness.

A dainty hand extended towards Atsumu in polite greeting, bracelets jingling softly with the motion. He blinked dazedly for a heartbeat, utterly disarmed by your proximity assaulting his senses. But the instant your palm met his in a fleeting clasp, it was like a match lancing through the thickening miasma of distracted arousal clouding his thoughts.

The first lascivious flare of heat blazed low in Atsumu's gut as his gaze instinctively dropped to trail down the plunging vee of your uniform blouse. In his haze, the buttons seemed to strain teasingly over the subtle swells of your breasts rising and falling with each guileless inhale. He swallowed a torrid pulse at the glimpse of silky cleavage peeking out from that dangerous neckline.

Focus, dammit, he growled internally even as his hungry stare continued roving lower. He tried and failed to tear his eyes away from the way your skirt clung to those generous hips, the inviting flare before tapering down into a pair of thighs he suddenly longed to—

A sharp exhalation - more animal than human - punched from between Sakusa's gritted teeth like a battlefield canon. Atsumu jolted bodily back to reality, head swiveling to find his closest friend's expression had mutated into something thunderously unhinged. All traces of sardonic neutrality had evaporated from those flinty eyes, replaced by a roiling, nearly feral darkness Atsumu had never witnessed directed at him before.

Sakusa looked positively unraveled in that moment, posture coiled tighter than a cornered viper ready to strike. The slackness of his jaw and the chilling, predatory gleam slicing through the shadows beneath those hooded lids spoke to an unraveling far more visceral than mere irritation.

It was...possession. Carnal, all-consuming ownership seared through every synapse behind that smoldering glower.

A shiver of unease raked Atsumu's spine as that wordless message finally pierced his lustful daze. You were so much more to Sakusa than just a "baby sister" in the platonic sense. He looked at you - guarded you - like a feral beast sheltering its most precious cache, willing to eradicate any perceived threat with extreme prejudice.

The severity of Sakusa's lethally possessive energy managed to momentarily derail Atsumu's spiraling descent into distracted lascivity. That hazy inferno of forbidden desire calcifying behind his bellybutton banked down to a steady, smoldering ember of begrudging acknowledgment.

Message received, whether he liked it or not: this was Sakusa's territory. His dominion to control and shelter as he saw fit. Atsumu had simply been granted a fleeting glimpse behind the curtain into that darkly covetous world - one he very clearly wasn't welcome in, despite how tempting the glimpses proved.

You, meanwhile, seemed to remain utterly oblivious to the perilous exchange billowing out around you. With a tinkling giggle, you squeezed Atsumu's hand once more.

"I'll let you boys get reacquainted!" you beamed with sun-drenched warmth. "But we'll have to swap embarrassing stories about Kiyoomi soon!"

With a conspiratorial wink, you finally disentangled yourself to sashay deeper into the apartment - leaving a deafening silence and the lingering vapors of your floral aura in your wake.

For several electric moments, a weighted tension thick enough to choke on cloaked the room. Sakusa's brooding presence loomed with all the untamed peril of a powder keg awaiting an errant spark. Atsumu swallowed hard, struggling to find the normally glib words to ease his friend's visible unraveling.

"Omi-Omi..." he began slowly.

But the instant that nickname fell from his lips, Sakusa's granite facade shattered in a hailstorm of livid snarls.

"Don't you dare, Miya," he bit out with terrifying lucidity. "Don't even think about slithering an inch further into her orbit."

Dark eyes blazing with that same primal fire bored into Atsumu from across the room. Each enunciated syllable felt like its own scalding rebuke.

"She's off limits. Completely. No exceptions, no matter how...tempting you may find her."

Sakusa's jaw twitched as that last phrase grated forth - a muscle clenching behind his cheek with each guttural delivery. Atsumu understood the implication with frightening clarity. His friend might as well have declared a scorched earth policy on anyone who dared make a play for the most exquisite, corruptible treasure jealously guarded in his possession.

Because whether Sakusa explicitly stated it or not...that was precisely the nature of whatever unhinged obsession smoldered between him and the dazzling little force of nature roaming these halls. You were his undisputed territory - a coveted keep to be carefully curated and insulated against any encroachment whatsoever.

Even from Atsumu himself, it seemed.

Atsumu barely had a chance to decompress from Sakusa's scorching gauntlet before his solitude was again disrupted by the melodic lilt of your voice.

"Oh good, you found the guest room okay!"

He turned towards the open doorway to find you leaning against the frame with hip cocked at an angle that somehow elevated your air of casual, girlish insouciance into something utterly transfixing. The tight little cotton tank top you wore skated along the gentle curves of your figure like a second skin. Those delectable legs seemed to stretch for miles below the frayed hems of your tiny lounge shorts.

"I was just about to come find you to see if you needed any...assistance getting settled," you continued, tone dripping with an exaggerated sweetness that paradoxically raised the fine hairs along Atsumu's nape.

His mouth worked fruitlessly as he drank in the vision you presented - all tousled bedhead radiance and gloriously minimal clothing. The thin cotton did absolutely nothing to conceal the outline of your nipples. Something about the nonchalant, almost childlike manner in which you carried yourself in that immodest getup made the visuals that much more dizzying.

"Actually, I could use a little help getting unpacked," he heard himself murmur before his brain could catch up.

One sleek eyebrow arched in muted surprise, but you didn't seem remotely taken aback by the fraught undercurrents bleeding from Atsumu's stare and tone. If anything, your full lips only curved higher at the corners in silent welcome.

"Well then, lead the way," you purred in that same saccharine-laced timbre.

As you brushed past to sidle into the room, the delicate citrus bouquet of your natural scent washed over Atsumu in another searing wallop to his senses. His focus lasered onto the inviting dip of your waistline above those criminally tight shorts. The inseam fabric strained indecently, leaving very little to the salacious imagination about the feminine musculature cradled within.

"You'll have to let me know if you need anything else to make this room feel...homier," you murmured without preamble, settling onto the foot of his bed with a whisper of cotton against skin.

Atsumu suppressed a violent shudder at the implication dripping from your every languid syllable and hooded glance. The sheer wattage of your playful, inviting aura crackled through the air in an electric current sparking directly against his receptive nerve-endings. You looked every inch the sultry pinup - all effortless sexiness and sticky, girlish temptation wrapped into one intoxicating package.

More importantly, you seemed acutely aware of the flustered effect you radiated. Each coquettish bat of your lashes and glimpse of glossed lips carried the giddy vibration of a naughty secret dangling in the air. Atsumu was utterly transfixed and out of his depth in the best way possible. How could Sakusa's own flesh and blood emit such brazen, corrupting effervescence without even a hint of self-awareness or shame?

Then again, maybe this was just your way. Maybe you thrilled in weaving these delicious snares of temptation and watching men like Atsumu helplessly flounder within their silken, unassuming grasp.

He coughed roughly into his fist, determined not to wilt so easily beneath your charming assault no matter how feverish his thoughts spiraled. "I'll let ya know if I need anything...extracurricular," Atsumu rasped in what he hoped passed for an assuredly casual deadpan. "After all, it'd be rude not to sample the full hospitality while I'm a guest here."

Your easy laughter feathered across his exposed forearms in an electric trail of goosebumps. "You're too much, Atsumu-kun. But how generous of you to allow me to spoil you."

With that and a final inscrutable look smoldering through the fans of your lashes, you rose fluidly from the mattress before slinking out the same way you entered - like a vaporous siren fading back into the safety of obscured corners. Atsumu remained rooted in place, heart thundering against his ribs as the memory of your gaze dissipated like smoke through his fingers.

"Don't forget - dinner's in a few hours!" your windchime cadence trilled faintly from the hallway. "I hope you like the menu I have...whipped up for tonight!"

Atsumu groaned from deep in his chest, scrubbing one palm over his flushed features. If tonight's activities were anything akin to this "preview" appetizer, he feared whatever twisted fixation first sparked inside him earlier would only continue roaring out of control.

All because you seemed determined to gleefully pour accelerant on those smoldering coals of obsession every chance you could.

By the time Atsumu emerged for the evening meal, you and Sakusa were already seated at the small kitchen table amid a modest spread of grilled fish, steamed veggies, and fresh rice. Despite the humble fare, you'd somehow managed to elevate the presentation into something straight out of a rustic wilderness home and living photoshoot.

Tea lights flickered in tinted glass votives scattered artfully across the gingham tablecloth. An uncorked bottle of crisp white wine stood at the ready, already having bestowed a delicate rosy flush to your cheeks and a giggling effervescence to your mannerisms. Not that your mood needed any extra buoyancy tonight.

"Atsumu-kun, you finally decided to join us!" you sang out in that windchime timbre as he approached.

Sakusa's spine visibly stiffened like a plank in his seat at your cheerful greeting. But you seemed oblivious to the simmering thundercloud radiating off your sibling, too busy patting the empty chair between the two of you pointedly.

Atsumu felt rooted in place, torn between the instinctive longing to drink in your radiant proximity and the nagging chill of Sakusa's silent disapproval trying to dissuade him. For one wild moment, he fleetingly envisioned flipping the wooden table between you in a childish tantrum of frustration - shattering those artistic place settings and flickering flames while disrupting whatever sordid tension hummed around you in this space.

But just as quickly as the unbecoming thought manifested, you broke the spell with an easy laugh and shooing wave of your hand.

"Oh come now, no one's going to bite!" The words dripped from your plush lips like warmed honey, thick with the promise of being anything but innocuous.

That lilting beckon was all the encouragement Atsumu's id required. In three strides he'd covered the distance to drop heavily into the seat directly between you and Sakusa's brooding silence, close enough to make out every flirtatious flutter of your lashes and sip of wine flushing the exposed swells of your bosom a deeper rose hue.

Proximity, it seemed, only amplified each sinewy contour and fragrant enticement wafting from you in dizzying waves. Atsumu momentarily forgot how to breathe, much less speak or look anywhere beyond the brazen strip of cleavage winking at him through the deep plunge of your top's neckline. Even from his peripherals, he could make out the sloping feminine curves of your rib cage tapering into those tantalizing dips and valleys of warm skin.

Thoroughly entranced, Atsumu watched in a trance-like stupor as you leaned forward to reach across his lap for the bottle of wine - completely oblivious to the lewd vista you were broadcasting. His mouth flooded with saliva at the up-close tease of lace brushing against his thigh, the unobscured view plunging straight into tempting shadowed depths he desperately yearned to plunder like a conquering sailor sighting land for the first time.

"Let me top you off, Atsumu-kun," you purred in a mellifluous tone thick with suggestion.

Atsumu felt his pulse skyrocket as a few rogue droplets of condensation from the dripping bottle spilled over the curves of your exposed chest in slow trickles. Your breath caught in a soft gasp at the cool rivulet skating between your breasts while Atsumu sat utterly transfixed, paralyzed by the urge to lean in and chase that beaded path with his ravenous mouth.

This sinful torment dragged on for an infinite heartbeat, the three of you frozen in this torrid tableau like a renaissance-era fresco. Then Sakusa deliberately cleared his throat with the gravelly force of a tectonic grind.

"My sister's careless manners aside," he seethed in a tone of molten, barely-contained rage, "perhaps you should exercise a modicum of self-control at the dinner table. Miya."

The rebuke sliced through Atsumu's lustful trance with scathing clarity. Stomach churning, he quickly tore his gaze away to settle on the flickering candle flames between them - trying and failing to purge the debauched hunger clawing through his sinews.

You remained blithely unaware of the silent exchange crackling with tension, too busy delicately dabbing an embroidered napkin to the moisture stain darkening your sternum.

"Always a little spill here and there," you sighed airily without a hint of reproach. "But that's half the fun, isn't it?"

As if to punctuate the rhetorical, you pointedly dragged the napkin along the curves of your breasts in an exaggerated swipe - the picture of saccharine girlishness coupled with the most lurid self-indulgence. Atsumu wasn't certain if you truly grasped the weight behind your actions, or if you merely basked in deliberately stoking the smoldering torment clearly gripping him.

Regardless, he already knew with sinking resignation that this meal would prove nothing short of an agonizing marathon in temptation and wanton torture.

All while Sakusa looked on, hawk-eyed and seething, ready to swat away any perceived line-steppers with vicious territorial backlash.

Long after the dry husks of their dinner plates had been cleared, Atsumu remained haunted by the sights and scents of that tantalizing evening. He tossed fitfully atop the guest bedroom sheets, body thrumming with a familiar restless ache born from deprivation and obsession.

A soft rap at the door made him jolt upright, sheets pooling around his bare torso. Atsumu opened his mouth to call out, but the teasing lilt of your voice purred through the cracked entryway first.

"I'm not disturbing you, am I Atsumu-kun?"

You sidled into the dim glow with all the breezy elegance of a lingerie model - barely ensconced within a negligee of filmy lavender lace that skated along every lush curve. Strands of silken hair framed your face in a tousled, inviting halo as you regarded him through hooded lashes thick with bedroom promise.

Atsumu swallowed hard against the sandpaper roiling of his tongue, hyper aware of the way his athletic shorts tented obscenely. You didn't seem to register the offense, too busy trailing your fingers along the door frame with calculated idleness.

"I wanted to bid you a proper goodnight..." you husked, gaze roving overtly along the taut musculature of his abdomen. "And perhaps get your thoughts on tonight's dinner?"

Teeth sank into your plump lower lip - whether subconsciously or not, the act radiated the most decadent allure. Atsumu felt the first insistent prickles of perspiration bead along his hairline as you dipped your chin with a conspiratorial giggle.

"I'll admit, I may have been quite the...sloppy hostess with certain...spillages."

The husky timbre dripping from your lips conjured phantoms of the sinful vista you'd broadcasted earlier that evening - all smooth swells of exposed breasts and dabbing towelettes edging ever lower in indecent tease. Atsumu rasped out a withering groan before he could swallow it back.

That seemed to be the unspoken cue you were awaiting. With footfalls light as shadowdancing whispers, you crossed the room's threshold to perch yourself on the foot of his mattress. Slippered feet swung idly as you leaned in with the subtlest teasing sway of lavender lace.

"Did I...overstep any boundaries tonight, Atsumu-kun?" you asked in a honeyed murmur that bespoke far more than mere propriety. "I do hope I didn't make you too...uncomfortable at dinner."

The sweet scent of your perfume and shampoo enveloped Atsumu in a stiflingly floral gauze. His pulse thrummed a dissonant rhythm at your shameless proximity, roaring like a riptide against his heightened senses. What he wouldn't give to seize you by those tiny wrists and simply haul you beneath him until the last remnants of that guileless, flirty mask evaporated beneath his ravenous assault.

But he realized with a dawning sense of strangled defeat...the choice would never be his to make.

The heated brand of Sakusa's possession weighed too heavily in every languorous glance and coy mannerism. A brand seared so deeply into your marrow, it was written into your DNA's very architecture to seek permission and validation at his altar. Intentional or not, you were his avatar of temptation and desecration.

It was Atsumu's sworn duty to simply endure each new provocation and descent into lascivious obsession without intervention.

So when those full lips pursed into an anticipatory 'o' - clearly awaiting an answer about being too untoward - he released a shredded sigh of equal parts starvation and resignation.

"No...ya were just bein' yerself," Atsumu rumbled, voice graveled from the strain of restraint. "Nothin' for me to get uncomfortable about with that sorta sweet...hospitality."

Whether he imagined it or not, a flickered glinted behind those molten eyes at his capitulation. You eased back with a throaty chuckle before uncoiling from the sheets in one lithe, sinuous motion.

"Sweet dreams, Atsumu-kun," you bid with a breezing air that brought your perfumed aura wafting across his over-sensitized senses once more.

Long after your teasing presence retreated down the hallway, he remained upright and rooted in place - haunted by the sordid fantasies playing out like firelight dances across his psyche. Atsumu clutched the sheets in knotted fists as his jaw ground with escalating torment.

Until finally, the fraying restraint he still desperately clutched at snapped under the weight of his all-consuming fever pitch. With a shredded growl tearing from low in his chest, Atsumu surrendered to his roiling arousal, one fist flying to the throbbing erection tenting his shorts.

The friction of callused skin against the sensitive organ was a delicious form of self-flagellation. He stroked himself roughly, gritting his teeth against the pleasure-pain. In his fevered imagination, that hand belonged to another - one who watched his depravity from beneath hooded, knowing lashes.

You.

The forbidden vision of you - naked and panting and eager to please, all doe-eyed innocence and lascivious curiosity - flashed like a lightning bolt behind his eyes. The fantasy morphed, twisting into something far more perverse as he imagined you sprawled in an obscene splay of feminine limbs, lips swollen and cheeks flushed - but not from any pleasure he'd bestowed.

In his mind's eye, you remained impaled upon the unmistakable contours of a cock. Your thighs quivered as you struggled to accommodate the length splitting your pussy apart. But the angle of his imaginary thrusts wasn't one of pleasurable indulgence, or even of animalistic rutting. No, it was the brutal, selfish gouging of a feral beast claiming his territory.

The possessiveness radiating from those shadows behind you was unmistakable - an ineffable, unhinged energy radiating pure ownership.

Sakusa's.

The realization of whom you truly craved above all others sent Atsumu careening into the abyss, hips pumping and teeth bared in a snarl. The orgasm was a scouring, cleansing agony as thick ropes of cum spurted forth to spatter across the sheets in sticky stripes.

With a ragged grunt, he collapsed onto his back amidst the mess of cooling sweat and jizz. The aftershocks of pleasure pulsed through his veins, eclipsing his surroundings in a haze of endorphin-fueled oblivion.

When he finally came to, he was suddenly aware of the disturbing fantasy that had gripped him in its clutches. Atsumu groaned, scrubbing his palms over his face with a mixture of disgust and shame.

"What the fuck was that?"

The question echoed into the darkened room, a chilling portent he refused to acknowledge.

Long afterwards, the hazy vestiges of his indulgence refused to bring any sense of true sated release. If anything, Atsumu's thoughts only spiraled deeper into darker, grimmer obsession as the sweat and shame cooled from his brow in the guest room's dim shadows.

Restless paces resumed as his desperation escalated to an almost maddening degree. Perhaps some water would—

Wait. What was that sound?

Atsumu instinctively stilled, ear tuning to an indistinct rhythm bleeding from the far side of the apartment. As if being guided by a wraith's bony fingers, he found himself slipping into the hallway and trailing that siren summons. Deeper and deeper through Sakusa's apartment until he drew up outside a door slightly ajar - flickering shadows and indistinct

The muffled cadences echoing down the shadowed hallway felt like tendrils of insistent smoke curling beneath Atsumu's skin - intangible yet insidiously inescapable. Each indistinct murmur and rhythmic whisper carried the unmistakable undercurrent of something intimate, something meant to be experienced only by those within the sanctum's threshold.

He knew beyond all doubt that he should retreat. Put as much distance between himself and whatever blasphemous activities awaited discovery behind that slightly ajar door. Atsumu's baser survival instincts screamed for him to flee before his curiosity dragged him across the point of no return.

But that same poisonous undertow of obsession you had awakened within him during your siren song of innocence and corruption sang a far more compelling chorus. With each featherlight step forward, the suggestive refrains woven through the hushed gasps and creaking mattress springs sharpened into haunting clarity.

"...so good for me, sweet girl. Taking it so beautifully..."

Sakusa's low rasp punched through the heavy air with spine-shocking potency. The sheer, unapologetic undercurrent of unholy reverence scorching beneath each guttural intonation made the hairs along Atsumu's nape prickle to rigidity.

Scattered flashes of movement filtered through the cracked veil - just enough to paint a vivid mental portrait of what he was overhearing. Sakusa's massive, powerful frame loomed like a demon king. The bedding beneath him rippled with the force of his movements, the violent undulations punctuated by the telltale slap of flesh against flesh. Iron corded forearms flexed and bulged as hips pistoned in an unhinged, animalistic pace. His focus zeroed in on the obscured yet hauntingly familiar slender limbs twining amidst the obscured sheets and eddies of tangled fabric.

You. That was unmistakably you - spread wide and moaning beneath his punishing rhythm, utterly pliant and receptive to his every demand. Breasts bouncing with the force of each ruthless thrust and a litany of filthy endearments falling from kiss-bruised lips.

"My precious girl..." The entreaty dripped from Sakusa's lust-thickened vocals like hot wax burning along Atsumu's feverish nerve endings. "Made for my cock, weren’t you..."

The barest lilting of a giggle - your giggle - trickled through the veil in response to his sacrilegious edict. But there was a husky, strangled underpinning to the sound that hollowed Atsumu's core with reflexive disquiet. It was the wounded whimper of an innocent, wild thing enduring its domestication against its basest instincts.

Yet the muffled sighs and keens emanating from your prone figure spoke to a far more twisted, deviant truth: that you enjoyed being pinned and conquered. That you longed for someone to tame your wanton desires and bend you into submission, no matter how perverse the demands. A transfixed, horrified voyeur, Atsumu catalogued every sharp intake of breath and arched silhouette as you careened towards your orgasm.

Until finally, your cries crested in a single, visceral peaked that echoed like a gunshot down the empty corridor. Atsumu flinched as your lithe frame bowed bowstring-taut off the bed in convulsing release - translucent liquid dripping from the apex of your quivering thighs in an obscene torrent.

"Yes, just like that..." Sakusa murmured in a sibilant purr dripping with gratified menace. "Cum for me, sweet girl."

For several suspended heartbeats, only your residual whimpers and the steady drip of Atsumu's perspiration disturbed the weighted stillness. Then, the other man finally roused beside your pliant form with the predatory grace of a beast savoring its fresh kill.

Sakusa's imposing silhouette filled the doorway's thin sliver of illumination. Moonlight glazed his heavy-lidded gaze in lurid onyx, rendering those eyes as glinting obsidian pits exuding a feverish, singularly covetous hunger.

Some primitive instinct screamed at Atsumu to retreat before that searing, predatory stare pierced the concealing veil and transfixed him like a butterfly pinned to velvet. But he found himself inexorably magnetized, unable to tear away from the primal force radiating off Sakusa in insistent waves.

One suspended moment seemed to stretch into a sweating eternity, the air thickening with unspoken danger and forbidden temptation. Then the spell shattered - Atsumu gasped as if surfacing from deep waters, staggering backwards in a blind panicked escape.

Sakusa's unvoiced promise of merciless retaliation lapped at his heels like a starving beast while the hallway seemed to constrict around him with every frantic stride. That rapacious, all-consuming pull remained an oppressive miasma nipping at Atsumu's senses until he collapsed against the guest room door, shaking hands sealing him inside.

Only in the safety of smothering blackness did Atsumu allow his rigid composure to fracture. He had been offered an inseverable glimpse behind the veil into your and Sakusa's shadowed world - one of devout obsession and unrestrained carnal possession.

The illusion of your teasing innocence was forever shattered, replaced by that lurid, feverishly blooming allure no sane man could resist gravitating towards in abject fascination and disgust. Atsumu's fixation had been irrevocably seeded, taking root like a devouring parasite festering in the darkest recesses of his psyche.

As his hammering pulse gradually steadied in the gloom, Atsumu could have sworn the shadows themselves seemed to slither with silent, unnerving promise. Prickling awareness ghosted across his nape - carnal tendrils of Sakusa's possessive madness creeping through the ether to beckon Atsumu back towards the ravenous, unknowable depths of his unholy obsession once again.

[hypothermic-dream]

I

In the void where shadows whisper,

Where light refracts through fractured faith,

A silent dialogue—dissonant, distant—

Emerges between the echo of a god

And the ghost of a penitent heart.

Did I, in my spirals of doubt,

Unravel the threads of our covenant,

Or was it You, who, in the stillness,

Withdrew the breath of divinity,

Leaving me to suffocate

In the vacuum of Your absence?

Is this chasm a construct of my feeble mind,

Or an abyss You carved in cold indifference?

In my fervor, did I cast You aside,

A shadow burned into memory’s ash,

Or did You, with the precision of eternity,

Erase Yourself from my soul?

Was it my hand that trembled,

As I tore the veil of sacred communion,

Or did You shroud Yourself in the mist,

A distant star collapsing inward,

Swallowed by the gravity of Your own silence?

I wander through the labyrinth of my thoughts,

Tracing the contours of abandonment,

Each step a question, each breath a doubt—

Have I become the architect of my forsaking,

Or are You the silence that dwells

In the void of my unanswered cries?

In this dance of solitude and longing,

I am both the seeker and the lost,

Forever bound to the question that remains—

Have I forsaken You, my God,

Or have You, in Your infinite quiet,

Forsaken me?

II

It was I who first turned away—

A seed of doubt sown in the garden,

A whisper that became a storm.

From Adam’s trembling hand, I took

The fruit of knowing, bitter sweet,

And with each bite, I forged the chain,

A link of sin that binds me still,

Pulling me further from Your grace.

With every transgression, I carved the path,

A winding road of shadowed steps,

Leading me deeper into the night,

Where Your voice grows faint,

And my guilt resounds, endless, loud.

It is not You who has forsaken me,

But I who drift, a soul adrift—

The weight of sin heavy in my chest,

A burden I cannot shed,

For it is the mark of my own making.

In my pride, I built the wall,

Brick by brick of willful acts,

Each one a stone cast in defiance,

Until the chasm yawned wide,

And I stood alone, on the edge of despair.

I am the sinner, truly lost,

Wandering far from Your light—

It was I who severed the bond,

Since that first betrayal,

And with each sin, I grow more distant,

From the mercy I once knew.

III

And now, in the cavernous abyss of my own making,

Where the echoes of my sins resound,

I stand naked before the truth—

I am not worthy of Your mercy,

For I have woven my existence

From the threads of indulgence and deceit.

I bartered eternity for the fleeting taste of sin,

Each act a blasphemy, a betrayal carved in flesh.

In my hedonistic descent, I forsook You,

Turned my back on the light, craving the shadows,

Where the pleasures of the flesh

Promised escape from the void within.

Yet the void remains, and I am its architect—

A being who chose the abyss over salvation,

Who sought solace in the very darkness I now curse.

I reveled in the hypocrisy of my desires,

Condemned in word what I worshipped in deed,

A human beast, all too eager to abandon the divine

For the filthy comforts of my own corruption.

I am no penitent pilgrim on a path to redemption,

But a hollow vessel, brimming with deceit,

A mask of piety shrouding the rot beneath—

The truth of my nature, hypocritical, vile,

A mockery of the faith I once claimed to hold.

Hell was not merely created for souls like mine,

It is the inevitable consequence of my existence—

A furnace stoked by the very sins I cherish,

Each flame a reflection of the lust I harbored,

The lies I whispered, the betrayals I enacted.

And in that inferno, I will not merely burn,

But be purified in the agony of my own making.

Let the flames consume this wretched husk,

For I am beyond redemption, beyond grace—

A soul who forfeited its place in the light

For the fleeting ecstasies of the forbidden,

A creature unworthy of the mercy

I so arrogantly spurned.

I deserve to be devoured by the fire,

To feel the searing kiss

IV

Though I am poised at the precipice of the inferno,

And my sins mark me for eternal damnation,

I still reach into the abyss for the hope of Your mercy.

This damned world has sculpted me from innocence

Into a creature marred by darkness and despair,

The test was crueler than I ever imagined,

For it is not the world alone but the very essence of my soul

That was twisted and broken by its trials.

Yet, despite the corruption, my true self remains—

A fragment of Your divine essence,

An innocent child, lost in this earthly purgatory.

The sins that plague me are but the scars of a test too harsh,

A testament to the world’s capacity to distort the pure.

In my weakness, I am crushed under the weight of temptation,

A vessel shattered by the very darkness I sought to escape.

I was a child of light, meant for celestial realms,

Yet this damned existence twisted me into a wretched form,

The world’s relentless trials, more than mere tests,

Unveiled the fragility of my being,

Reducing my spirit to a vessel of sin and hypocrisy.

This essence, born of Your divine spark,

Now wanders lost, marred by the very darkness

That was meant to be a mere shadow of its true self.

In the face of my wretchedness,

I am a mere echo of what I was meant to be,

Crushed beneath the weight of my own failings,

A creature caught between the celestial and the infernal.

Before the enormity of my failings, I am but a speck—

A soul yearning for the light of Your forgiveness,

For Your mercy is my last hope against the encroaching void.

I beseech You to see beyond the facade of sin,

To find within me the remnant of the child You created,

The soul destined for Your heavenly grace,

And grant me redemption in the face of my despair.

For in Your infinite mercy, I seek the light

That can heal even the most fractured spirit.

[neteyamyawne]

Inferno : Ignite ✦

Pairing: twin!neteyam x sister!reader x Sully family

Summary : y/n and neteyam were inseparable twins but as they grew up things got difficult with humans coming back on Pandora, they both got distant and neglected by their own in the process, what would be their next step? (For more info click on the summary link)

Parts : pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5

• Series masterlist

Angst ✦

❈ Warnings : angst, fighting, yelling, cursing, crying, bad parenting, ignorance, brother and sister Bonding, jealous (platonic), favouritism , regret, groveling, sad ending, toxic Jake? , Hurt no comfort, even more crying? Etc. Let me know if more.

❈ Word count : 4.2k , proof read.

❈ Note : I love neteyam and want him to live his best life, so this is my tribute to him 🤧

"word" - dialogue

❈ Glossary : omaticaya - avatar Navi clan, tsahik - spiritual leader of Navi clans, Olo'eyktan - leader of Navi clans, eywa - Navi deity , tsarekam - tsahik in training, ma'sa'nok - my mother, y/i/n - your ikran name, seze - blue flower (neteyam's ikran) , paysyul - water flower, sempul - father , y/n - your name.

The omaticaya clan was bustling with life and joy as their tsahik has given birth to their Olo'eyktan's first offsprings, though it was uncommon for twins to be born and were called sacred and gifts given by eywa herself as twins either kills the mother or one of them dies at the time of birth but this time it was a miracle as neytiri survived that painful period of time and came back alive with two beautiful children in her arms.

Neteyam and y/n were the pride and joy of Jake and neytiri's life, y/n being the absolute daddy's princess and clung to him with every given minute , he took her everywhere he could, strapping her to his chest and taking her to war meetings as the surrounding warriors didn't even dare to think about commenting on the sight in front of them, while y/n was with Jake, neteyam was a mama's boy and neytiri could never let Jake live down to it, always flaunting how her son always wants her and not him and his comeback is always how much y/n wants him but the banter always ends up with the four of them cuddling together in the hammock as they all drift to sleep.

»»————-　⚜ ————-««

Neteyam and y/n were like sun and moon, if one is leading the other follows right after, and that's how it always was, y/n would lead and neteyam would follow her, though they both never disobeyed their father's words, Jake was their role model, both y/n and neteyam followed Jake's orders as if there was no tomorrow but they still had their moments when suddenly neytiri became their favorite because now Jake wanted nothing more but pick them up and tickle them until they were convulsing in fits of laughter.

If y/n was seen somewhere then neteyam was surely around the same ground and vice versa so if any of the kids picked on one of them the other immediately stood up for them, the twins were inseparable, joint to the hips if you must and the village nothing but adored them, they were the future Olo'eyktan and tsahik in making afterall but even before that everyone just loved them for their bubbly and calm nature.

Jake carried y/n on his shoulder while neytiri held neteyam as they both walked towards the lake they all visited every week, but today was different, today they had news which would change the twins life probably forever….

»»————- ⚜ ————-««

Jake and neytiri both sat near the twins as they watched their kids run around chasing each other and splashing water every now and then, meanwhile Jake got distracted and seeing the opportunity the twins splashed water at their old man with all their might drenching Jake from head to toe while all neytiri did was laugh at the sight, huffing Jake got up and stormed towards the kids, picking them up , the squeals and laughter ringing through the forest, he threw both of them in the water gently, all the while laughing at the whole scene, soon it was getting dark as they cuddled together, that's when the parents decided to tell the news, "neteyam, y/n" neytiri started, she looked at Jake once more and he nodded for her to go forward " you know you both are brother and sister right now, hmm?" Both the kids just nodded their head, their little brains confused about why their mother is stating the obvious, "well, now you both will get to be big brother and sister in few months" but their confusion was still there as they looked at their father for clarification, Jake just smiled and said "well what mommy is saying that, there will be another person for you to play with in time, then you'd be big siblings to them" but the only thing the twins focused on was 'they will have another person to play with them!'.

Soon enough Two babies joined the family and the twins couldn't be any more happier, y/n held her baby brother, looking at her twin who held her new baby sister as well, they both smiled, Jake and neytiri were happy they accepted the new ones with so much enthusiasm, both the elder kids adored the babies, always carrying them, feeding then and taking care of them, neytiri and Jake have to plead with them to hold them because they never let the babies out of their sight, their protectiveness doubling over those little ones, and to add to it , tuktirey joined the family in the next two years, happiness was an understatement for the bustling family right now.

Jake and neytiri tried to not keep favorites and divide their attention but having 5 kids to take care of made them take the decisions, even though neteyam and y/n were the dream kids ,that made them have lo'ak in the first place, with little to no crying and obedient as ever, eywa blessed them with lo'ak and kiri that we're complete opposite of their older siblings, lo'ak got into trouble and kiri followed without a doubt, always together and tuk was tuk, in y/n's eyes tuk could do no wrong, she was her little baby sister after all. It had been a few years now, life was simple, everything was perfect…. Until it wasn't.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Humans were back, they destroyed everything, again, took our newly built hometree, destroying it to the ground, and changing our lives forever.

~ y/n pov ~

It has been years now, since our former home was destroyed and those humans claimed our land without our permission, though the humans which lived with us helped us so much but they could only do little, raids became more frequent and dad's behavior changed with it, he insisted on me, neteyam and lo'ak calling him sir, drilling us into work, practices , and chores all throughout the day without a break, training was different other than that, it was like we didn't even have space to breath.

I sigh walking through the tent with 'teyam and lo'ak, tired as hell from today's work, i just wanted to nibble on some food and pass out in the hammock, sitting down near the circle i took ahold of my plate, nete' sat beside me and lo'ak on his left, kiri and dad sat side by side in front of me, mom in between lo'ak and kiri with tuk in her arms. I started eating my portion when my eyes fell on my sister who was talking and smiling with the man beside her, oh how long has it been seeing him smile like that, he never smiled at us anymore except for kiri and tuk or sometimes mom, i forgot about the food in my hand as i only stared at their interaction. I felt jealous, i know that i shouldn't be jealous of my own goddamn sister! But i was and it was gnawing at me, she gets to call him dad, she gets away with anything while i get scolded for hours for the same mistake, he took away my title of tsarekam and gave it to her because "she is more connected to eywa and can feel her more clearly" and i said nothing and happily agreed because c'mon she's my sister and i can see that she could be a better tsahik than me but it still hurts that he was the one initiating it. I was then named and trained to become neteyam's right hand in command after he became the Olo'eyktan.

Even after the other title, i just longed for my old dad, the one who pulled me close and comforted me and not scold the hell of me for it, he says "it's part of the training" or "it's my fault i should own up to it" after a mistake i did, while kiri gets the opposite. My mood just depleted more when i saw him laugh out loud for something she said, i was brought out of my trance when neteyam nudge me with his knee and i looked at him, he tilted his head giving me soft eyes conveying that he sees it too but i just shook my head, too annoyed at them to reply to him. I pushed my plate, losing my appetite all together, I got up thanking ma' sa'nok for the meal and walked out telling them I was going to feed y/i/n. I walked out to feed her/him but I didn't tell them how exactly I was going to do it. I always had my visor with me anyways.

I soared through the mountains, wind blowing through my hair but even this wasn't helping to lighten up my mood. The forest glowed beneath me, the eclipse will happen soon but I wanted to make every minute count before I have to go back. my thoughts were interrupted as a sudden gust of wind blew from my side, i knew who it was before i saw him, i just nudged him back, his laughter rang out. We twisted and twirled around each other, loops and drops forming in the air as we played for a while, afterwards we landed near a tree and let our mounts hunt for their food.

I sat with my knees tucked to my chest and my arms wrapping around them, my cheek pressed into my knee as I looked at neteyam, who was leaning on his hands, legs dangling down the edge of the branch. " You know how emotional kiri is, he just wants the good for us" he started but i just rolled my eyes at him, he's just saying that to make me feel good but even i know he feels the same, i scoffed and said " you really believe that? He has always done this! Sometimes it's like he favors her over us, answer me 'teyam when was the last time we called him 'dad'?" He stayed silent, he knew the answer well, sighing as he put his arm around my shoulder, giving me a squeeze of reassurance. I just leaned onto him, i remembered how many times we have been scolded by now ,We had bets placed sometimes between me, lo'ak and him on who would get scolded the most from dad, but it seems like lo'ak was in winning streak here. Neteyam's attempts at cheering me up were successful when he got up and jumped off directly calling for seze midair, my heart was in my mouth at his stunt, while he laughed at my surprised face,I flipped him off, I too got up determined to get back at him and chased him all the way back home, looping around him and blowing gusts of winds at each other.

I landed near the nest, laughing as i jumped down disconnecting from y/i/n, neteyam landed beside me laughing as well, both our hair were a mess but it was still so much fun we had after a long while, i turned around to walk towards our tent but my smile faded away when i saw our father standing near the tent entrance, neteyam froze in his tracks as well, yeah we were fucked, again, we both treaded our way towards him, keeping our eyes on the ground as we stood in front of him, wincing when he actually started talking " have you two seen what time it is? It's past the eclipse, I thought you were going to feed your ikrans and not fly with them!!" Grimacing at his tone, i said glancing at neteyam one last time "I'm sorry sir, it was a hard time finding the hunt, it won't happen again" he just scoffed "next time just feed what we have available, no need to go outside without my permission", my anger rose with it but i stayed silent not wanting to escalate further but then he spoke again "that's what I want, i expected better from you both, you're the eldest you should know better than this'' with that he walked straight inn, i just looked at neteyam, eyes squinted but he shook his head as in 'let it be'. I sigh defeated, as we both enter the tent, seeing everyone was in Their hammock, kiri fast asleep beside lo'ak who was snoring loudly, i got in beside him and tuk rolled onto me, i hugged her close pulling her inn, neteyam got in from the other side, pulling us all together, but sleep never came to me as i laid awake and my mind running back to the times my father scolded me again and again for nothing, it bothered me but it's not like anyone's gonna help, even mother was putting up a blind eye to it, i closed my eyes begging the great mother to grant me some semblance of sleep and she answered when i was sucked into , not a calm, but restless sleep…

»»————-　⚜　————-««

It's been a few weeks since that encounter but life's been the exact same if not worse, it's always 'y/n you're wrong' , 'y/n don't you understand?' , 'y/n what's wrong with you?' and same towards neteyam, we are both exhausted of this and mom didn't say word against it, i tried talking to her, telling her what's going on with me and my twin but every time she either dismissed it or simply replied with "it's for your own good" and that was that, i was getting frustrated minute by minute , so was neteyam, where i showed my anger a little bit , he completely hid it from everyone else and it was consuming him, i can see it everyday how he works silently, does everything alone and has stopped asking for help even from me. Our father's neglect towards us was making us fall apart.

I tried my best to keep us both sane, well atleast for while as i think we are still sane, our flights together were cut short by our dictator, instead, we were thrown into assembly of the upcoming raid, day and night we worked on strategic management and barely got any sleep while our "sir" was busy with work "we couldn't understand", complete bullshit but staying silent was better than being grounded for asking another question.

Now with new training sets, another batch of practice was dropped on us by our father. He demanded that we practice more because we were getting lousy…..his words not mine, as if we ever got a chance to even act lousy.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

We stood in front of our dad as he scolded us for the upteenth time now, why you ask? Well lo'ak took tuktirey out for adventure and they were attacked by some kind of animal i don't even remember now, why are we being scolded? Because we didn't see our precious little brother take tuk out as we were too busy with our training that he yelled at us to complete beforehand, so it was our responsibility to see each and every step our brother takes even when we were clearly busy with other things, it's our fault of course.

"How many times have I told you both to keep an eye on your brother but you don't understand do you? So until you both get on your senses you are grounded" he spit at us with venom in his voice, i looked at my mom for help but she just shrugged , as if this was alright ,making anger shoot through me, so this time i didn't stop myself, it was already getting dark outside the eclipse was nearing and what i said next made his eyes pop out, " if you're so adamant about us disobeying your orders to keep and eye on lo'ak, then why did you tell us to train for the 6th time today? we were doing what you fucking told us to! I don't have another set of eyes to keep them on lo'ak, he's a person in himself, he can think for himself, it's not our fault he decided to do something like that, we can't look after him eclipse to eclipse without not doing my work, which you demand from us, and if i don't do my work, you come and bite our ears off, yelling on and on how "lazy we are" or how "me and neteyam neglect our work to have fun", we haven't had "fun" in a long long time ,Sir, when was the last fucking time you held us close? Huh? When was the last time we called you 'dad'? …… Right, you don't fucking remember! Because it's been years!! Okay? I never said anything but i can't TAKE it anymore, all we do is follow your stupid orders day and night without a single protest but you think it's not enough and weigh down on us even more, I'm fucking done with this, it's better to die then live this nightmare any longer, we are tired and exhausted, so please just shut up for one moment and let us live!" I was yelling at him at this point, tears were streaming down my face, neteyam held me close, tears of his own running down his cheeks, we haven't slept in days, constantly working and worrying about the upcoming raid that he didn't even grant us permission to sleep, and i meant what i said i would rather die than live this all over again.

He looked at me shocked and surprised, his eyes trailing to neteyam who he stood by my side, backing me up because he had enough himself "she's right, sir, all we've been doing is work for you, we were training on your orders, we did not see lo'ak taking tuk out, but even if we did, she's his sister too, he has the right to have fun with her, so please we are both tired of everything, just let us go, we haven't slept in days because you want us up and running for your raid strategies and didn't even bother to ask if we are okay or not? I agree with y/n, i would too rather meet eywa then go through all this again.. please just let us be"

He just stared back and forth between us, his eyes showed no emotion, he looked cold and unforgiving and what he said next left us speechless "if you want to live under my roof, you will HAVE to follow my rules, and if doing that is gonna make you rebel against me then, be my guest, I'm more than happy if you pack up your bags and get the fuck out of my house!" and believe me when i say i never wanted to punch my father in the face, ever, then i want to right now, i recovered from my shock quickly, my blood boiling at his statement, he would rather have his kids gone then let them live like they have a life of their own? If that's what he wants then he'll get just that.

I straighten my spine and looked at my twin who had the same look as i did and we both knew what we had to do, we stormed inside the tent and started packing the necessary things we needed for at least a week, mom was crying and stopping us both from doing it, getting in between us , yelling at us to stop and listen to her, but we did not stop for one second,she had the chance to be heard and listen but she blew it off, while our father was just staring at us from the entrance with no regret of his words thrown at us, whatsoever, that's fueled my anger even more, picking up the bags we started to walk out but mom dropped down on her knees in front of us as she begged " ma'y/n, ma'neteyam don't so this, it is wrong, your sempul was wrong, I'm sorry i should have stopped this before, please do not leave us like this" she was crying even more than before now, i just rolled my eyes at her and gently removed her hand as did neteyam, we just shook our head, this was it, we had enough of this , we walked out calling for our ikrans when two small arms wrapped around my thigh.

I looked down to see tuk who was crying, her big doe eyes glassed over with tears, with wobbly lips she said "please don't go tsmuke, i love you, please, we can go make flower crowns together if you're sad, you can come with us too tsmukan" i dropped down to her level and kissed her forehead, neteyam following my moves, we pulled her in for a hug as i said " it's okay tuk tuk, but we can't live here now, one day if eywa wants us too, we'll see eachother but before that i will always miss you and keep you close in my memories ma' paysyul" she just nodded even if she didn't understand the depth of my words, she just nodded sniffing, i don't know if the next time i see her, she'll even remember me or not, neteyam said his goodbyes too and we mounted our beasts, we were about to be airborne when a voice called out "you are making a mistake, both of you, we can sort this out, you still have time, you can apologise and it would be all good" and i looked at him shocked, he had the audacity to say that we can sort this out by apologising to him when we didn't even do anything to begin with! In that moment, for the very first time, i hissed at him, baring my fangs on display for him to see, he was taken aback by that and neteyam didn't hold back from hissing either, with that we flew off, in search for a new home for us….

»»————-　⚜　————-««

~ 3rd person pov ~

Kiri and lo'ak were shocked to hear that their siblings have left them for good, they both saw how they were treated but never got in between because they were too scared, but now how they wished they would have so this day would not have existed, neytiri was a complete mess, blaming Jake for driving their kids away from them, she knew she was to blame as much as Jake because y/n had come to her, tried to explain that this was taking a toll on them but she did not hear her, simply trusted Jake on their training and now this was the result. Tuk was crying in her father's arms, not knowing when she'll get to see her tsmuke and tsmukan. Jake was now regretting his actions and words, he shouldn't have been so hard on them, they were his kids! What was he even thinking? But it was too late now, why did he have to say that even when they were departing for good? The weight of the situation weighed down on him when they both hissed at him, for the first time in ever, his kids, his twins, his first born's! How did he fucked up so bad that the only option left for them was to fly away from them….from Him.

That day, all of the omaticayans searched for the beloved twins till the end of the next eclipse but they were nowhere to be found, the whole clan mourned for them for days on end, praying to the great mother for their return but still they never came back, neytiri wept for days for her babies, regretting all her answers towards them, begging eywa to give her children back, yelling at Jake for what he had done but soon accepted her kids were never coming back, they were gone…. forever and she will not get to them grow up any longer.

Jake sat near the tree of souls, memories of his dear twins playing on and on, what has he done? Will he ever get to meet them again? Would they ever forgive him for this? Tears rolled down his eyes, away from everyone he let himself cry, sob for his kids that he so cruelly shoved aside and now he's facing the consequences of his actions, he will never forgive himself for this, never, he just wants his kids back and he's ready to do anything it takes to get them back but it was too late now…..the only thing he can do is wait for them, even if it means forever, he ignited this inferno that he's burning inside of now.

A/n : this took so much time, but i love the way it turned out, I'm brain storming ideas for the next part, so please if anyone has good ideas let me know 🙏🏼💚to be tagged in this series, comment on my posts ✨

Yawne : @fanboyluvr, @callmeoncette, @lu-the-ghost-reader, @brisbriskett, @saltedcoffeescotch, @ducks118, @itscheybaby, @jackiehollanderr, @zoetrope1997, @yeosxxx, @persefolli.

© Neteyamyawne 2023 | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!

[cutiechaser]

There’s certain poetry in the way my lips explore your body, an entire language written in heated touches and tender caresses. With your eyes gently blindfolded, the world softens into a gentle whisper, and it’s just you, me, and the exquisite sensations that dance along your skin. How intoxicating it is to leave you in this delicious state of anticipation, stripped of sight, yet heightened in every other sense, your mind racing to puzzle together sensations absent visual stimulation and comprehend fully everything happening.

Each heated soft kiss placed along your collarbone, pulls you trembling beneath my touch—the warmth radiates from your body, begging for more, more, always more. I linger just a heartbeat longer in the places that make you sigh, your breath catching like music in the air. There’s magic in this moment, a sacred exchange of trust as I trail my lips down the delicate line of your shoulder, your soft whimpers vibrating through the silence filling the space between us with color.

I readily let my kisses wander, tracing patterns down your arms, savoring the pulse of your heartbeat beneath my lips. The way your skin blooms pretty shades beneath my mouth fills me with an ache—a desire so sweet it delights in every inch of your vulnerability. I am not lost, but exploring, a sailor drifting through the vast ocean of your body, every kiss a wave crashing toward the shore of our shared ecstasy.

As I descend lower, I can feel your breath quicken, your body arching toward my touch as greedily as though it were a flower reaching for sunlight. My lips glide over the delicate swell of your chest, teasingly brushing the soft fabric that clings there—a gentle reminder of the boundaries I’ve set. Each kiss a promise, each nibble a dare, leaving a constellation of sensations mapped out in delicate paths on your skin, each one triggering an inferno that begs for release.

The solid world around you fades, the velvet darkness behind your blindfold amplifying the sensations flooding through you. A single caress of my fingers across your waist elicits a soft gasp—a sound that reverberates within me like a ghost, captivating and haunting. I sip eagerly from the honeyed nectar of your responses, cherishing every vulnerability as I explore the terrain of your body with my lips, open and ready to discover each secret you’ve hidden away.

With a tender kiss placed just above your navel, I pause, letting the silence linger as I relish the way you respond to my love. It’s in that moment I tease, letting my breath dance along your skin—hot, ethereal, whispering sweet nothings that flutter like soft wings against your very core. I am an artist painting a masterpiece upon the canvas of your flesh, taking my time to create a delineation of arousal.

As I descend even lower, the way you quiver beneath my ministrations fills me with heady delight. There’s a rhythm in this surrender—yours to my whims, mine to your body. Visibility is stripped away, but your desire blooms brighter than ever, and it drives me to explore deeper still, each kiss intertwining our breaths like threads of silk weaving stories I can only tell through touch.

I pause to gaze upon you—a beautiful sculpture encased in warmth and vulnerability. Your trust is the most intoxicating gift of all, and in that electric intimacy, I coax each confession from your lips, emboldened by your every sigh and gasp. I savor the exquisite thrill of every peak and valley of your body, mapping out your euphoria as if it were written in stars.

And when the moment finally comes where your body succumbs to bliss, I hold you close. I encircle you in my arms, enveloping you, whispering soft praises as you ride the waves of ecstasy. Your breath mingles with mine, and I murmur secrets into your ear—intimate truths that seal my devotion to you.

Together we luxuriate in the aftermath, suspended in that blissful state between pleasure and comfort, where you and I exist in perfect rhapsody. You are cherished, an echo of my own longing, the embodiment of the beauty that connects us in this enchanted moment.

[needfantasticstories]

Chapter 9: A Rescue

Summary:

Legend tries to escape the Yiga hideout. He finds a friend.

Legend rushed onward, but hardly made it to the next room before he had to stop and collect himself, both his breath and his tumbling thoughts.

What in the Sacred Realm just happened? Time slowing down, the Teacher letting him walk away? This wasn’t how dungeons worked. Nothing was adding up. 

He leaned on the wall and assessed the room. 

Practice dummies lined one wall, weapons on the other. Each dummy had a devilish sketch pinned to the face—a face with distinctive blond hair.

The veteran stumbled over to it, snatched the paper free, and laughed. These were somehow worse than his old wanted posters! Wild had to see it. By Din’s dance, he’d make it out of here just to shove this in Wild’s face. The others would never let him live it down. Nor, of course, would he.

His prize safely stowed away, the veteran lit up the now-faceless dummy to mark his path, but didn’t ignite the rest of the room: they might need to come back this way, and after the inferno he created earlier, he should probably reserve at least enough oxygen for the journey out. 

He moved on, and found the last hall in this wing. Peering around the corner, Legend came face-to-face with a stark white mask. 

The footsoldier raised a hand to whistle an alarm. Legend swung his blade faster. 

He wiped his sword clean, checked the map, then followed the switchbacking halls. These led to mirrored rows of tiny rooms on the bottom edge of the map. A prison, most likely. Not an ideal place to find Hyrule, but a likely one. 

Ahead in the next hall, two burly guards paced. 

Memories of his first adventure bubbled to the surface. If only Hyrule had Zelda’s telepathy.

Legend’s boots made no sound, and then no guards remained. He ran, and the floor sloped ever downward. His steps, quiet as they were, still echoed. This felt more like a dungeon than anything he’d seen so far.

Passing through one last stone archway, he found the hall lined with cave-like cells. He checked through the bars of each one. All gaped back at him, empty, until the fourth. From the dark, red eyes glared back at him. Legend lit up his firerod and peered closer. A Yiga soldier glared back at him, still in uniform but unmasked, his face heavily scarred by what looked like bear claws. He was bound, and the ropes were tagged with the inverse design of the many papers stuck around the caves. Sheikah magic, musty as moss, but mingled with something wrong, something heavy as tar. It must be some spell to prevent teleporting, he guessed.  

 The brawny Yiga man stared at him, incredulous, then bellowed, “Guards!” Apparently he was still loyal to his clan, despite whatever crimes he’d committed. Legend knew they would not answer.

Legend moved on to the next cell, knowing the guards would not be coming. In the next cell, a slight figure stepped forward into the dim glow of the torchlights. Gold eyes looked back at him surrounded by a faint shimmer of fairy-magic.

Rulie!  

No, too small. 

A little girl approached the bars, folding her arms as she scrutinized him, her nose held high. It was as long as the Old Man’s. Bold red hair, pulled in a high ponytail, curled at the end like a piglet’s tail. 

A Gerudo child? 

Bright, ornate flower patterns covered her thin slippers and silk clothes. Stranger still, they glimmered with hints of fairy magic, identical to Wild’s tunic, but dimmer. He’d encountered magic clothing before, but the fluid, nectar-sweet fairy magic was distinct from the sharp, clean bite of Hytopian magic, or the chilling, weightlessness and mystic glow of Lorulean weaves. He resolved to finally buckle down and ask Wild about his tunic as soon as he got the chance. Fairy blessed clothing was exceptionally rare in his own era, but here apparently even little kids wore it.  

 The girl watched him closely, her stare intense as a beamos, while he quickly checked the last two cells. 

Empty. 

Legend tamped down his disappointment, and with a voice hoarse with ash and smoke, asked, “Either of you see a brown-haired boy with gold eyes? Wears a green tunic?”

The little girl shook her head, earrings tinkling, but her eyes widened in surprise. “You’re a voe !” 

“A what?” Legend asked, but she only scowled. He shrugged, too tired to puzzle out what that meant. 

The maskless Yiga soldier gaped at Legend. “What?” He hissed, “Then… you don’t have him either?” He gave a dark, mirthless laugh, shaking his head as his smirk dissolved into a snarl. “Oh, I knew it was that demon! Sooga warned us! That monster won’t be controlled, no matter what it promises! It can’t be trusted!” He lunged at the bars, shoved his face as far as he could between them, and bellowed toward the very-dead guards, “It was the sword! It wasn’t my fault!” 

Legend’s knees threatened to give out, and  he leaned against the bars of an empty cell. This all made less and less sense. Hyrule hadn’t escaped… he’d never arrived in the first place? He was never here ! The veteran shook his head, his vision swimming from exhaustion, both magical and physical.  

Another red potion. He dropped the empty glass in his bag, then wiped sweat and ash from his face with a shaky hand.   

“Right.” He turned to the child, collecting himself, plastering a friendly mask over his frustrations. “Want out?” He regretted the disappointment still heavy in his voice.   

“Of course,” The girl sniped, still eyeing him suspiciously. Whatever “voes” were, she didn’t seem to trust them. 

The scapegoated Yiga soldier yelled for the guards again, loud and desperately as he glared at both of them. Legend wanted to scream back at him, to throw fire into the cell. He’d already spent so much time in this cursed place and his brother wasn’t even here ! 

Din’s teeth. Hyrule! Where are you?

 But he also felt a spark of pity for the idiot who took the fall for something he didn’t actually do. 

Instead, Legend braced himself for one last fight, one last rescue to complete, before leaving this whole place behind. There were no other leads to chase here.

This girl looked strong for her age, but she was still small, barely up to his elbow, and too young to help much in the escape. He’d need to do this on his own. 

“Alright. Stand back!” Legend shouted to her. He aimed his fire rod, about to torch the wood beams that served as bars, and the talismans, and use his shield to barrel through when they were weak enough, but the girl scoffed and pointed behind him. 

A rope and pulley system. One designed to open cell doors. 

Legend grumbled. If she wasn’t a young kid in need, he might have stuck with the fire rod plan. 

He needed to slow down, to think. Legend put the weapon away and yanked the fifth lever. Arms crossed, she came out and stared him up and down again . She had gold eyes like ‘Rulie’s, but red hair as bright as hibiscus, just like—

“Can you actually get us out of here?” she demanded. “How old are you, voe? You don’t look like a grown up, and voe like you aren't even…well…”  

Oh, this was going to be a nuisance. “Aren’t what?” Legend stared her down. 

“Tough?” she said, throwing out a hand, eyebrows raised, as if this was common knowledge and he was an idiot. 

Oh Sweet Nayru’s blessings... “First, I don’t know what a voe is. Second, whoever said it is probably wrong about them, generalizations are never good. Third, we need to go. Now.”

She scowled. “How did you get in here? How do I know you’re not one of them ? They looked just like my aunts when they took me. You could be a Yiga in disguise.”

Okay, fair . But every second here was a second wasted. “Would they bother pretending to be someone else inside their own base?”

She chewed her lip and seemed to mull it over. 

“You’re staying here, then?” Come on, kid!  

“I… no,” she admitted, uncrossing her arms, “but they said they’d kill me if I tried to escape again. I can’t get caught.” 

“They always say stuff like that. They’re idiots. Can you ride on my back? We’ll move faster if you let me carry you.” He held out a winged pegasus boot. Maybe she was familiar with other magic clothes. She only nodded and climbed quickly onto his back. 

The girl muffled her squeal of surprise into Legend’s shoulder as he dashed back the way he’d come, breezing through passages and skidding around corners, until they entered a new hall. 

“Do you even know where you’re going?” the girl hissed when he slowed down and silently checked the passage ahead. It was clear. Oddly clear. 

“Yes!” he shot back.

“I’m just asking! How do you know?” She demanded. 

Legend checked his tone this time and took a centering breath. “Because I checked the map.”

“How come you’re dressed like a vai?”

Zelda, Hilda, and even Ravio were never this annoying when sneaking through dungeons. “What is a… listen, kid, just… hush.” 

Legend stopped at the end of the hall. A sense of danger opened like a pit in his stomach. He fidgeted, shifted the girl more securely, and crept slowly up to the next turn to listen. Something felt off. 

At first, he heard nothing but the girl breathing too loudly over his shoulder. But no… it wasn’t just her. He could hear the soft brush of feet on sand, the creaking dry of leather, and small sniffs and grunts beyond. 

Soldiers ahead. They were waiting. Another ambush. 

Legend slid the girl off and signaled her for silence. Slipping on his red cape once more, he poured his magic into it and peered around the corner.

It was a cavernous room he’d passed earlier, scorched remains of a storage tower bearing witness. The cave was tall, long, and rather narrow and winding. Short walls, fences, and steps divided it into three parts. 

Scattered wall to wall, dozens of foot soldiers crouched in readiness to attack anything that entered from the lowest room. It was the path he’d taken to the skulltulas. Legend suppressed a grin. Perhaps the Teacher hadn’t told anyone he’d reentered another way? 

That chilly canyon door would take them north into freezing mesas, away from the desert this girl surely came from. And that shrine was useless without Wild’s slate. They had to risk the desert exit to get her home, no matter what men or monsters stood in their path.

His current hiding spot—a narrow hall deep in the shadows—led to the middle portion of the room and the burnt remains, the stink of charred wood and burnt bananas still thick in the air. 

He looked left, and found exactly what he needed: at that end, the entrance to stone stairs, cut from the caves, like every other structure in the hideout. They led around and up to a bridge that spanned over the stairs’s entrance and to an open doorway that led to their final destination, according to the map: a round room, one with many doors tucked inside narrow alcoves. One of them led outside, to freedom. Legend could even see the faintest yellow glow of sunlight overpowering dim torchlight, peeking through the distant arch.

“I know you are there, Hero of Legend.” A deep, hypnotic voice echoed through the cavern like a spell. 

Legend jerked back behind the corner, yanked the girl up, and wrapped the cape over them both. The girl moved stiff as a log, and he hardly blamed her when her nails dug into his skin. This man’s voice was unsettling, crawling over his skin like insects, blurring the line between sounds in the room and sounds in his own head.

Was this the mage, at last? The one with the stench of rot, who hopefully didn’t know about Legend’s pilfering? He couldn’t see through the cloak’s magic, could he? 

The intoxicating voice spoke again. “Don’t you wish to find him?” 

Legend ignored him as he stepped out of the hall, watching for a reaction from the masked soldiers. None of them turned his way. Good . They had to risk it, while the old man yapped. Their sound would cover their footsteps if they were lucky. 

The voice surrounded them again, masking its origin. “You and I know he is fated to die. But what comes after? I can show you how to bring him back from death. That's all any of us want, for the dead to return to us,” echoed the voice in the stone ceiling above.  

Legend knew fate was, in fact, rather flexible. Going back in time and meeting his own ancestor, Sir Raven, had changed many things in his Hyrule. The sorceress Veran had nearly erased Legend when she tried to execute Sir Raven, and wreak havoc in an ancient time that should have been secure and unchangeable in the warp and weft of fate, if such a thing existed. Clearly, it did not.  

With these memories, Legend steeled his mind against the words. He was rather picky about which disembodied voices to trust anyway. 

As he fully entered the room, he searched for the source, stepping softly forward but not activating the pegasus boots. He needed every drop of magic for the cape to keep them both hidden, and his magic was draining fast. 

Legend padded forward on his toes, balancing the girl and himself in careful silence with every step, weaving breathlessly between dozens of footsoldiers toward the stairs. One soldier spun a spear, bored and restless, and the veteran carefully timed his run past it. 

He ducked under a Blademaster’s sword, held in fidgeting hands. Ignoring the pit of anxiety building in his gut, Legend continued to maneuver between soldiers and their whispered grumbles of where is that stupid kid , and let’s just storm the hall already . He squeezed between them at a lull in their conversation when they turned to other neighbors to quietly continue to grouse. 

They all still faced the lowest level, clearly expecting him to come from that way. Let them waste their efforts, the idiots . 

He danced between two more blademasters, both of which stood a head taller than Time, nearly Teacher’s height. It was harder to notice short interlopers like him from their vantage point, and at last Legend’s chest relaxed at the knowledge that they were close, at last, to the stairs, and to escape. 

But the girl began to tremble. She tried to hide it, flexing and relaxing her fingers, but still he felt her whole body shivering. 

Not far ahead now, just beyond a group of yawning scythe-wielders, the stairs waited. The first steps were blocked by three assassins.

“ Walk faster ,” the girl whispered. 

Legend dared not answer, or move faster. 

“ Hurry !” she begged in an ever louder whisper, digging her fingers tighter into the shoulder of his tunic.

Legend shook his head, watching the guards around them for any clue that they’d heard the girl’s plea. 

She barely breathed, but kept shifting, the swish of fabric far too loud, as she looked back and forth at the soldiers surrounding them.  

She’s panicking!

Legend moved closer to the left wall and slid along it where the rows of soldiers ended, leaving just enough room for the toteming pair to turn at the corner and slip behind them, parallel to the bridge. They just had to reach the stairs, only a few feet away. 

The voice filled the cavern and his mind again. “He will die, hero. Fate and the gods have willed it so.” Fear wrapped him with every word, wrapping like coils around him.  

Fuck fate , he scoffed in his head, and the fear loosened, but still followed him. 

“I can teach you a spell that will weave him back together.”

Legend stopped and swallowed hard, heart thundering in his chest as the fear caught up to him. 

It’s a lie. And yet, he struggled to take another step. Why do they keep saying that? A spark of anxious hope flared at the words. Is it possible? If Hyrule were to die, somehow, or any of them, is there a way to bring them back? Stop! They don’t have Hyrule , and it’s probably dark magic, he reminded himself. They don’t even know where the demon is . 

Legend scanned the way forward, and found the voice’s source. Above him on the bridge stood a man in purple robes. Four soldiers guarded him, two on either side. For a brief moment, Legend’s heart raced at the folds of purple fabric. But no, these robes were dull, dark, and the draped hood bore no silly, familiar ears. Instead, a withered face stared across the room, amber eyes nearly glowing from the hood. 

“Believe it or not, we want the same thing.” The mage droned on, the buzzing on Legend’s skin growing stronger as he spoke. He longed to itch everywhere, but resisted. The girl did not.  

Legend grimaced at the words, the false familiarity it established between them, and the paralyzing spell of fear. Din, this same shit again? It sounded no different from the weird old Teacher, and the demon’s nonsense about the red thread of fate. Whale it stung to turn his mind away from Hyrule– not abandoning him! Not giving up! —he thought about the girl trembling on his back. Right now, she needed him. That’s all that mattered. 

“Hero…think about your friend. He will need your help.”

Hyrule’s blood. Hyrule’s death . That’s what these people wanted. 

He would not offer himself as a pawn in their plot.  

Regardless, the stairs were too crowded to continue.

Legend was stuck. 

“Reveal yourself, and we will talk. I promise no harm will come to you. But you will help, either way. For I have seen it. Fate will not be thwarted.”

He crouched and quietly bent enough to set the girl on her feet, and dug in his pouch.

“ Don’t you dare leave me here! ” she hissed, clinging to him. 

He shook his head slightly, and she slowly let go of his shoulder but held tight to his belt. Hands free, he downed another potion, tart and dry on his tongue but washing his body wholeness . He’d need it all for what he was about to do.

The girl slipped off his back. He tried not to panic, but she left one arm on him and climbed back up a moment later.

Her arm snaked down his, her fist over his hand, and something spilling out. He opened his palm. She dropped sand and pebbles into it.

What? 

“ A distraction. ”

Oh.

Dirt could work, but he could do better. Legend drew out a boomerang, an old one with no magic. He hated to lose it, but it had a purpose now. From the shadow of the bridge, he threw it. It was easy to mistake for a keese in the dim light, but the clatter it made on the far side of the cavern sent a shockwave among the soldiers. Dozens of them rushed to the sound.

The Yiga on the stairs disappeared to investigate. 

Legend hauled the girl up the stairs, his foot slipping a little on the sand as he climbed. 

At the top was another cell, oddly separated from the dungeon. He checked inside.

Empty.

But there, midway across the bridge, stood the mage, framed in the faint hint of daylight beyond, blocking it. 

The bridge was too narrow to sneak across, not with four blademasters and a dark-magic wielding mage between them and the way out.

“He’s here,” the old mage whispered to the guard on his right. “I feel the old magic. Have them move about. He may be hiding.”

One step ahead of you . But now Legend needed more than a simple distraction, especially if the mage could sense his magic. He dared not lead them to the Gerudo girl, but how to get her past them? 

Legend’s eyes lit up with an idea. He fished in his pouch, and grabbed a ring–a magic ring–and slipped it onto her thumb. In the quietest whisper he could manage, he spoke over his shoulder. “Wait until I clear the way, then run through there and follow the sunlight.” 

He slid her down, and crouched as he turned to face her, careful to keep the cloak over them both. He swept his sweaty bangs aside to watch her response. She searched his face for more answers. He had none to give. Before she could object, the veteran ducked out of the cape.  

He took the first blademaster by surprise, striking his back so hard the man plummeted off the high bridge.  

The mage backed away between the far pair of guards as the second blademaster approached. Legend unleashed a spin attack, four strikes, and he dropped the clansman with a lethal strike to his collar.  

The mage seethed. “Enough! You have something that does not belong to you! Not unless you stay and learn the way.” He raised a finger, eyes glittering red in the torchlight, cold and hard. “The book is missing half the spell! Only I can teach it.”

Legend lunged with his fire rod and sword. The mage dissipated the flames, while one guard swung his blade, and a sharp wind knocked Legend to the edge of the bridge, and over the bridge. The Mage gasped and rounded on the guard with a furious shout “STOP!”

Empty air gaped below him, but Legend was not called the veteran lightly. He fetched two items at once, kept together for just such an occasion: a feather, and a bulky hookshot. Holding the roc’s feather, he leapt high on the open air as if leaping from flat, solid ground. He jumped again, arcing high once more, his stomach in his ribs, soaring far out of easy reach, and as he dropped he aimed the hookshot at the fourth guard. It burst forward and latched on to the stunned guard’s bicep, and with a sickening jolt they swapped places. The blademaster shouted as he lurched and plummeted, and Legend stood face to face with the mage on the bridge once more. 

To his surprise, the last guard toppled over the edge, a sickle appearing, already buried in his side. 

The mage spun aside and raised his hands toward the place the weapon had appeared, dark magic gathering around him, acidic and rank with rot. Legend rushed forward and bodily yanked the Mage’s arm, away from what must be the Gerudo girl. With all the force he could muster from his exhausted body, he spun the mage and shoved him off the bridge. 

The mage fell, but coils of dark power slowed his descent. Red flashed in his eyes as he glared up at Legend. 

Smoke choked the air around him, but Legend reached into the fog to where the girl must have been. Shaking, invisible fingers grasped his. The unseen girl climbed onto his back. Both her and the cape settled over the veteran as he rushed in the direction of the narrow hall as the smoke cleared, bowling over soldiers as they appeared, chasing the faint glow of sunlight. 

They streaked into a round room like he’d seen, but instead of doors he saw statues, except one bright alcove. He passed through it in a blur. 

Sunlight! Legend chased it outside into the hot desert air, heavy with grit. The sky blinded him, but ran forwards all the same. Soon, shapes appeared through the white haze: reddish canyon cliffs, sparkling sand sloping downward, and a ribbon of pale blue sky. 

And those damned puffs of spoke. They appeared atop the cliffs and scattered on the path ahead. Dozens of bows aimed their way, their bodies invisible but their footprints in the sand were not . 

The girl screamed as she clawed his shoulders, “Your shield! Surf!” 

Oh! Wild had shown them shield surfing before. He’d thought it a waste, seeing how much it damaged Wild’s already flimsy shields, but right now he saw the appeal. The cape gave them cover, powered by the ring, as Legend fumbled in his pouch, rifling through rings and canes and empty glass bottles until at last he felt the smooth, long curve of uncle’s soldier's shield. But their footprints must have given them away, as arrows rained down. He tossed the shield ahead, and with a leap hooked one foot into the strap. The other foot he planted on the back edge, and with the momentum of his run they sped off, rushing down the hot sand, gaining momentum, exhilarating and fresh.

The girl on his back laughed. 

 They surfed for half a minute before the ring’s magic petered out. Legend stuffed the cape away. He’d have to rely on himself now, on his ability to dodge and weave.

A skill he excelled at. 

He quickly found how to move his feet just so to aim his descent, and he charted a breakneck, unpredictable course downward, sometimes lurching left or right, or kicking on the back of the shield to leap over boulders instead of swerving around them, arrows chasing them. The girl clung on and tried to shrink against him, and he mentally apologized for the seasickness she must be feeling. 

Red bodysuits and white smoke littered with paper still appeared all around, though Legend dodged them with ease. A squeeze and shout from the child made him worry she’d lost her grip as he took a particularly sharp right curve, but she clawed him tighter than ever and held firmly, and they sped onward. 

A dozen pops of white flashed in a cluster less than a hundred yards ahead. Barreling at  such a speed, Legend could barely hear the girl’s shout of alarm, but he’d already seen them and  angled for one gap before quickly shifting to pass through another while the Yiga scrambled toward the first. 

Lithe soldiers appeared once again, much further ahead than the first group and forming a tighter line. Their sickles flashed in the sun.  Perhaps they wanted to give him time to slow to a stop, to surrender. Legend smirked and eyed a sloped ridge nearby. It was perfect. He swerved sharply left. It was difficult balancing two people on the shield as he steered, but he’d seen it done once before in a small, snowy canyon. Thanks again, Wild, he thought as he aimed for the stone ramp, grated over the edge, and soared high above the heads of the Yiga. The white masks tracked him as he soared overhead. 

Legend’s stomach twisted as he dropped, but he clutched the roc’s feather and gave a shout of triumph as they bounced once in the air halfway down, then again closer to the ground, and finally hit the sand in a spray, mercifully staying upright at the impact and hurtling forwards. They left a cloud of dust in their wake big enough to obscure the assassins. The girl shrieked, and Legend couldn’t tell if it was fear or the thrill. 

At last, at long last, The canyon ahead stayed clear. They rode it in tense silence, Legend no longer dodging and weaving, simply feeling the rush of air cool the sweat completely coating him. His rabbit-quick heart finally began to slow down. 

They soared onward, riding the solid wave of glittering sand as the canyon curved left and opened onto the vast, sea-like desert.

Legend slowed as it spilled over the flat expanse and leveled out. He stopped just before reaching a path through ruins. A town shimmered into sight through the desert haze, only a few miles away.

Legend jumped off the shield and bent to let the girl down. She slid slowly, and he felt her wobble but seemed to catch her feet. He stared at the distant town and drank. The relatively cool stamina potion felt like heaven in his throat, the heat sapping his strength even as he stood still. 

“Is that your home?” he asked between gulps, searching the ruins for signs of monsters or places to rest safely all the while. 

“Ye-yes,” the girl whispered. Legend turned as the girl dropped to one knee, her face pale as paper. 

Legend cursed. Two arrow fletches peeked over her shoulder, rising and falling with her labored breaths: one in the back of her upper arm and one in her shoulder. Droplets fell and shone like rubies in the sand behind her, swiftly swallowed by the earth. 

Din dammit! He should have stopped to give her an extra shield for her back! Or anything to protect herself! He was used to treating wounds on himself, but removing arrowheads on a child? One that already barely trusted him? This was Warrior's area of expertise. He needed help.

“Hey, kid, I’m going to get you some help. You’re going to be okay. Just… just stay awake, okay? You need to tell me if I’m going the right way. Got it?” Goddesses what am I doing? What am I supposed to say?

Legend stowed his shield, downed another magic potion, chiding himself to conserve them better, and carefully lifted her onto his back again. 

She cried out, and her arms lay limp now, but he tied the cape around her back, kicked his heels, and ran. 

They’d certainly have all she needed in that town ahead, beyond the ruins.

[taterfics]

Oracle

Chiiiiile, now y'all know auntie is rusTEEE, but imma try! As usual, MINORS DNI, if I catch you, it's yo ass! My characters black. Blackity black black black.

If there was one thing Nella Jones could count on in life, it was her magic. There was no problem too big or too small that could stop her from meeting her goals. But , as she watched her beloved King T’Challa be tossed to his death at the hands of his brutish cousin, N’Jadaka, her magic was of no use. 

She could not save him.

For generations, the women of the Masu tribe performed an ancient, sacred magic both admired and feared among any that considered themselves fortunate or misfortune enough to know. It controlled the flow of the economy in Wakanda, helped them predict certain trends and possible natural phenomena that could affect the pricing and value of their goods. Seers, prophets, migratory folk who were seen as either an omen or a blessing in disguise.

Like their cruel new king, Nella was not from Wakanda, did not feel the soil of her mother’s homeland under her feet until she was nearly an adult, after her estranged grandmother beat down her mother’s door and took her by force. 

Nella’s mother had been excommunicated from the family due to her lack of magical talent. All her life, Nella had known her mother to be a tall, proud woman, but the woman who fell to her knees in front of the veiled woman on their doorstep was not her mother. No, she was the same hurt girl that once begged her parents not to send her away, now begging the same woman to not take her child, her baby, the one thing she lived for. Her mother’s pain was hard to hear, hard to look at, and when she had stood tall in defense of her mother, barely sixteen years old, she was winded, knocked off of her feet by the sheer weight of the spear of the Dora Milaje. They bound her arms and her legs, carrying her away from the only family she had truly known. To the day she could still hear her mother’s agonized screaming as her grandmother dropped money at her feet, as if it were a viable substitute for stealing away the one thing she cared about the most.

Now, years later, Nella sat in a very similar position to the one her mother had many years ago but she was not there to beg, or to plead. She had seen him, had watched him scream for the elders to burn the gift of Bast as if it were nothing, as if the greatness of his own legacy was nothing more than shit beneath his shoes, and they did it. They did it because they feared their king. She may not have been born in the land, but the blood of Wakanda pumped through her veins, so when she watched him grab her Auntie Funke by her neck, when he cursed at her, she couldn't take it anymore, and she wasn’t that same scared little girl who had been struck down by the Dora Milaje in an attempt to defend her mother, but this time, her anger could not be tampered so quickly.

Shouts of  surprise tinged with fear erupted through the halls as the flames grew higher, and higher, far beyond what any of them expected. It was at that moment that she saw the gears turning in her aunt’s head. Because of her temper, because of her rage, she was going to expose the secrets of the Masu people that they had kept sacred for many, many generations. Funke dropped the torch she had been holding, running to her niece, who was on her knees, staring blankly as she watched the legacy of the Black Panther, a warrior sent to her people by the Goddess herself, be reduced to nothing but ash in the wind.

When he turned and looked down at her, she could see his lips moving, but she couldn’t differentiate the sounds, feeling her auntie shake her vigorously against the pounding in her ears. Her entire body was hot, and her hands trembled, wet with sweat unassociated with the blazing inferno around her. In an instant, her mind was transported to another time, another life, when life was much simpler.

September 12th, 1998

Charleston, SC

You said

You’d be here by nine

Instead you took your time

You didn’t think to call me

Here I sit, trying not to cry

Asking myself why, you do this to me, boy

There was hardly a time in Harriet Jones’ car where the two occupants usually present were quiet, but hardly didn’t mean never, and it was one of those rare times. One might ask why, but one look at the shining black eye on the face of the younger occupant would tell you all you needed to know. 

Little Janella Jones had gotten into a fight. And said fight led her to being suspended. They had been driving for quite some time, just sitting in silence, until Harriet seemed unable to take it anymore and she pulled the car over, killing the engine as she did so.

“You can’t hold your tongue forever, you know,” she said, the silence that met her almost like it was charged with lightning.

“Why I don’t got no daddy?” Of all the words she thought the little girl would say, this clearly was not it, seeing the way that she recoiled at the question. Harriet cleared her throat, looking at her daughter with a concerned look. 

“Of course you have a father, Janella, and I wish you would speak English properly, like Mommy, see?” She ignored her mother’s words. There was nothing wrong with the way she talked, she talked just like everybody else. As long as she was understood, she didn’t see the problem.

“McKenzie Talbert say I don’t got no daddy and cause I don’t got no daddy, that make me a bastard, so why don’t I got no daddy?” She stared her mother in the eyes, and she could see the woman struggling to some up with an answer, a lie. Nella had learned at a very young age that her mother was a liar, but she never understood why her mother lied, nor had she ever tried to question her. But today something was different today.

It was earlier in the day when she sat in her fifth grade social studies class and listened to the girls behind her talk about the father-daughter lunch date coming up. She usually thought nothing of such things, until she heard nothing of it.

“You think Nella daddy gon’ come?”

“Girl you know Nella ain’t got no daddy.”

“How Nella don’t got no daddy? Everybody got a daddy.”

“Hush, you being loud, my nana said she ain’t got no daddy.”

“You mean like he had died or somethin’?”

“Nooooo. She. Ain’t. Got. One. My nana said it’s cause her mama like girls so she don’t got no daddy and they goin’ to hell because she gone be a bulldagger just like her mama.”

Nella hadn't been able to hold her tongue and she turned around and started yelling at her classmates for talking about her and her mama like that, and that her mama wasn’t going to hell because she was a good person and God liked good people, unlike her mama who sold coochie on 53rd. The teachers jumped in when the girls started fighting, Nella had a black eye, and McKenzie Talbert was missing a patch of hair from the front of her head, so she felt they were even. The teachers and the principal didn’t seem to think so, and they were both suspended for five days.

“Nella, the circumstances of your conception, it is something that you will just have to learn about when you get older. Now is not a time to have such a discussion–”

“Then when, Mama?! When the right time?! When I’m in high school? When I’m in college? When I get a job? Tell me!” Harriet pinched the bridge of her nose, a sign that her patience with her child was running thin.

“Nella, I understand that you are upset, but it’s not so simple as telling you. When you are old enough to understand–”

“STOP SAYIN’ THAT!” At her yell, sparks flew from the radio, the scent of smoke filling the air as the radio short circuited, the tape from the cassette in the player flew out, covering the two in the brown streamers. When Nella looked over at her mother, the woman stared at her with wide eyes, her bottom lip trembling as tears streamed down her face. Nella had never seen her mama cry before, and it was in that moment that she decided that she would lose her temper again.

Present Day

Wakanda

The memory of her mother’s tear streaked face wasn’t enough to stop the irate woman, nor were her aunt’s pleadings for her to calm herself. 

This man, this demon was destroying the one place she called home piece by piece and no one was doing anything to stop him. 

“Please, my King, I have done all that you ask,” Auntie Funke pleaded, shielding Nella’s body with her own. “The heart shaped herb is no more, she is just a girl, let her go.”

“Nah,” the voice above them spoke, soft, yet commanding, as if they were speaking casually about the weather. 

“Lil Bit here look like she got sum’ she wanna say to me,” he said, circling the two women, dirt caked into their vibrant purple robes. “Whatchu gotta say Lil Bit?” He stopped in front of them, looking down with that infuriating smirk that made Nella’s muscles tense, Auntie Funke’s tight grp doing nothing to stop her as she rose to her full height, white hot anger coursing through her veins as she slammed her hands flat against his chest, a shockwave of energy going through the room as Wakanda’s new king was launched away from them, right into the flames that he had demanded be set to burn the gift of Bast. 

Nella heard more than felt her knees hit the ground, her body exhausted as she breathed heavier, feeling lighter than she had in a very long time. But that lightness was short-lived when he emerged from the flamed, fury written on his features, seemingly unfazed by the burn.

He approached her, slapping her auntie to the ground and grabbing her by the throat, his punishing grip closing around her throat as she swung wildly, mostly hitting the air, but the moment her open palm connected to his face, it was as if the entire world went blank.

Just as easily as her mind went blank, there was a burst of color, and images flew before her eyes, sounds and smells touching her senses that caused her body to react. She saw many that she knew, and many that she didn’t. But most of all, there was him. He, who had taken from her what she loved the most, would give her what she begged on her knees for, countless nights on her knees, her forehead touching the dirt as she committed prayer after prayer to the wind, hoping that it would reach the ears of Bast.

Jakari.