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oncemorewithqueering · 11 months ago

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twin peaks sexuality headcanons

warning: very long

my god do I have THINGS to say about this show and 99 of them are about albert

so I thought before my feed is entirely twin peaks, I’d give my thoughts on the Outrageous Gay Tension of this show with some context

also ignore my handwriting, I’m very sick at the moment and have taken a lot of paracetamol (be more responsible than me kids)

spoilers for all 3 seasons, sorry

DALE COOPER

he/him

transmasc (FTM)

bisexual

listen. listen. trucoop is real rosencoop is real it’s all real. i love coop more than i can describe (which is weird considering I’m gay) and i heavily head cannoned him as trans and bi the second he drove onto my screen. i think he’d prefer men but women are also his cup of tea, or coffee rather. anyway he deserved better and he deserved to give Harry a little kiss.

HARRY TRUMAN

he/him

cisgender male

bisexual

i originally would have said Harry was gay, but I’m not a big fan of relationship erasure. yes, he is with josie. that’s why he’s bi.

i think Harry would have had a crush on some guys at school but would have bottled it down, until coop came to town, and he suddenly had a gay crisis. if i had to pinpoint a moment, i would say his initial realisation would have been when coop steals his nose (best scene) and he would have come to terms with it by the end of season 1.

even harry is not immune to the eyes of Dale cooper.

LAURA PALMER

she/they

cisgender female (but questioning her identity)

biromantic lesbian

first up, I’d like to give my consolidation to Laura palmer and anyone who may be reading who ever experienced something like her. she is my favourite character, apart from Coop Harry and Audrey, and i think she deserved so much better. PERSONALLY i think she and Donna had a very strong emotional romance but not necessarily a physical one. i think that her experiences with men caused her to do a big ol’ comphet and assume she liked being intimate with men. in reality, i think she wasn’t actually attracted to them but was doing it, alongside all the canon reasons, to reject her feelings to women.

and James happened, i guess.

DONNA HAYWARD

she/they

demigirl

homoflexible

idk whether i just see my identity in donna, but i think she definitely isn’t 100% female. i can’t explain it at all, but i just get the vibe.

as for her sexuality, obviously she and Laura had their thing, but i think her romantic tension with literally all. the. female. characters. initially made me think she was a lesbian. but, we have the James factor.

fucking James (my reaction whenever he is onscreen btw)

i think that her emotional intimacy to Laura would have naturally led her to the other emotionally intimate person in Laura’s life. i think James is the closest thing she has to Laura left, which is so sad. i love donna, idc what the widely accepted opinion is. i believe the ‘Just You’ song scene is her grappling with her feeling with maddy. i mean tbh if my girlfriend died and then her identical twin came back, i would probably be weird about it too.

AUDREY HORNE

she/they

trans femme (MTF) (i couldn’t fit it on the picture sorry)

biromantic demisexual

AUDREY AUDREY AUDREY AUDREY MY BELOVED

when i tell you i came out of twin peaks 15% gayer it is BECAUSE OF THIS GIRL. i love her storylines, her dialogue, her friendship with coop. it all feels so realistic! and her dancing!

back to the sexuality and gender thing, which is what this post is about, i personally believe her crush on coop came from a place of seeing a happy trans person comfortable in their identity and finding that beautiful. then translating that to love.

as for being biromantic, c’mon. donna and her definitely had a thing going for a bit. her demi sexuality comes from a place of her extreme discomfort in sex work (which is valid if you aren’t demisexual, by the way, but combined with her virginity until she forms a meaningful connection, the pieces fell into place for me. yes i am also demisexual and yes i am totally biased.)

ALBERT ROSENIFELD

he/him (because he is Him)

trans masc (FTM)

gay as fuck

“I love you, sheriff Truman”

I’m sorry??? excuse me?

albert is gay in so many ways it’s not even funny. with coop. with Harry. with gordon in season 3. and my trans headcanon? idk i just sort of vibed with it. normalise head canonning people as gay or trans with no reason.

also i love the idea that Denise, Albert and coop are just a group of trans fbi agents. we already have Mulder from the x files we need more (tell me if you want an x files version of this)

GORDON COLE

he/him

cisgender male

bicurious

i honestly can’t tell if David lynch would curse me for this post or just shrug it off

anyway. gordon didn’t strike me as being particularly fruity until season 3, when he had his whole trans power speech and those weirdly domestic scenes with albert. like, pop off little fbi husbands. i think he’s still working through period-typical biphobia and isn’t ready to say he’s bi. but i think with time he will be.

someone needs to take me away from this show for like a week and sit me down with some literature. I’d just gay headcanon it anyway (looking at you Sherlock Holmes)

BOBBY BRIGGS

they/he

demiboy

bisexual

the more i watch this show, the more i think to myself…”Bobby is…me?” idk whether it’s dana ashbrook’s truly unhinged and amazing performance, the weird nervous gay energy and the lack of masculinity for a character who would normally be obnoxiously masculine. i love him so much.

i think Bobby would struggle in the gender norms of being the child of a military man. and the sexuality norms of being the “bad boy” in school. i firmly believe that he is bisexual, because let’s face it, everyone in this godforsaken show is bi. find me ONE straight character. ONE STRAIGHT.

SHELLY JOHNSON

she/her

cisgender female

heteroflexible and demisexual

SHELLY IS A LITTLE BIT GAY BECAUSE I SWEAR TO GOD AS I WAS WATCHING THIS I WAS THIS CLOSE (HOLDS FINGERS TOGETHER) TO KISSING MY TV SCREEN.

shelly seems like the sort of person to have been raised with certain heteronormative values. but, i think after going out with Bobby, i think she’d have a little sit and think and say “huh maybe i would kiss a girl.” she hasn’t, yet, but that’s just because her crushes so far have been on men. if she met the right girl, she would.

i think her demisexuality comes partly from trauma and also because we need something in common because, if i haven’t made it clear, i LOVE HER.

HAWK

he/him

cisgender male

gay

don’t be lying about that poetry being for your girlfriend hawk. this is the only character where i will defy canon, fold my arms and say no. i love that hawk got a bigger role in season 3, and i think that based off all i know about him (being the best character) i would headcanon him as being gay. why? idk. look at him?

hawk would totally just rock up one day with a guy on his arm, no explanation, and say nothing until Lucy stumbled into asking him about this guy. and he’d just be like “oh this is my husband. yeah we’ve been married for 6 years. you were at the wedding, we just didn’t tell you it was a wedding.”

iconic.

also i had hair envy the entire show, i wish that when i straightened my hair it was that luxurious.

LUCY BRENNAN

she/her

cisgender female

bisexual

I’m sorry Lucy, no one is THAT frazzled and not sapphic. it’s a rule.

i feel like Lucy would consider herself straight until she was taught about the internet, got a Facebook account, and promptly shut it down, but before doing that saw the word ‘bisexual’ and felt weirdly drawn to it. Andy was, of course, super supportive if a little confused. she’s still figuring it out.

i feel like she’d wear sweaters in the bisexual colours and be very happy whenever someone noticed.

ANDY BRENNAN

he/him

cisgender male

straight ally (but not really)

Andy is straight, but like more in a straight with a question mark way. maybe if he hadn’t dated Lucy, maybe if they hadn’t fallen in love, he would have caught feelings for a guy. after Lucy came out, he did some thinking, but decided to keep it to himself. who knows, maybe his tulpa is “kinda gay” (obligatory Buffy reference)

WE ARE DONE LADIES AND GENTS AND PEOPLE WHO ARE NOT EITHER BUT STILL HIGHLY ESTEEMED.

so, thoughts? I’m gonna do a part two with the season 3 exclusive characters, and some characters i forgot, like Norma, ed, Hank, josie, James….and Wyndam Earl. OH and Denise

thank you so much for bearing with me, and love y’all 🫶

(not as much as I’ll ever love Shelly)

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whitedarkmoonflower · 10 months ago

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Power

Pairing: Masema x reader (female)

Authors note: it is a very belated birthday present to @lady-targaryens-world Thank you so much for your request and I'm so sorry it took me so long to write it. I changed a bit the setting, but I still hope you will enjoy it. It appeared that writing Masema is not so easy for me, but I truly loved it. A big thank you to lovely @the-irish-girl for helping me with brainstorming, ideas and dialogues! It was so inspiring to work together with you! The idea of the other world and the stones is borrowed from the books.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f receiving), p in v sex

Word Count: 5,6 K

I have tagged people who enjoy my Sihtric fics - if you don't want to be tagged in Masema fics - please let me know

You shifted in your saddle trying to find a more comfortable position, but to no avail. Your whole body was aching and sore, your muscles feeling like they were filled with lead. The shadows were getting longer, as the sun slowly rolled behind the horizon. The evening was approaching and you longed for nothing more than to rest, to get off the horseback and curl under your blanket. With the last remnants of your strength you spurred your horse to a slight gallop, trying to align with Lord Ingtar, riding at the front of the group.

“Aren’t we stopping for the night?” you tried to sound casual, not to betray your tiredness.

"There, behind that hill, is a perfect spot for our camp," Lord Ingtar's response filled you with hope as he pointed towards the next hillock. Unconsciously, you sighed in relief. It wouldn't have surprised you if they intended to ride through the night; there was no sign of weariness on the stern faces of the Shienaran warriors following their leader. It seemed they could maintain this relentless pursuit indefinitely.

With a knowing smirk, he added, "The horses need a rest."

Yeah, horses, you nodded inwardly and allowed your own steed to gradually slow down again.

You had to pick the lesser of two evils, as the need to escape the city had grown urgent. Fal Moran was no longer a safe haven for you, not since it had become overrun with Aes Sedai. It was only a matter of time before they discovered your well-kept secret, and you would be forced to follow them to the White Tower. You were not like them and you didn't want to be anything like them. Arrogant, cold-blooded, and heartless, they were driven by their might and a belief in their own omniscience. These cruel beings wielded too much power for their own good.

You had made up your mind to join the first party leaving the city, even if it meant travelling across the country in pursuit of the Horn of Valere. You were aware that they wouldn't readily accept you as a companion if you simply asked, but the Shienarans were known for their unwavering commitment to helping and protecting those in need. That was their way. Thus, you departed ahead of the group and waited along the road—an abandoned high-born lady, seeking assistance. A damsel in distress, to put it plainly.

Once again, you felt the unsettling sensation of someone's eyes fixated on you. Slowly and discreetly, you turned your head to meet his gaze. His stern eyes bore into you with mistrust and suspicion, tinged with a hint of resentment for reasons unknown to you.

"Have I done something wrong?" you asked, turning to face Lord Ingtar as you settled beside him near the fire.

"What do you mean, lady?" The surprise in his voice was evident.

"I have a feeling I may have upset or offended the young warrior with those peculiar mismatched eyes. I believe his name is Masema," you continued hesitantly. "I just wanted to know if I may have overstepped or said something unacceptable. I'm not accustomed to your ways, and I want to offer my apologies if..."

"Lady, you need not worry," Lord Ingtar interrupted gently. "I'm sorry to say this, but there's probably nothing you can do about it. You... I'm not quite sure how to explain it... you bear a striking resemblance to an Aiel to us. Not all of us have fought against them, but Masema has."

The awkwardness of the conversation and the embarrassment in Lord Ingtar’s voice were impossible to ignore. "Lady, you are not to blame for your appearance. Please, tell me if Masema has been rude to you or insulted you in any way. Trust me, I'll ensure a proper punishment is meted out."

"Oh, not that. He's simply avoiding me completely, and he refuses to speak to me even when I address him. Please, don't say anything to him. You've been so kind to pick me up on the road and offer your protection after my bodyguard abandoned me unfairly. I don't want to cause any inconvenience," you said, trying to mask your relief with gratitude. You were thankful that your initial fear, the creeping worry that Masema might have somehow discovered your deeply buried secret, was unfounded.

Unable to resist, you stole a furtive glance at Masema. He'd set up his blanket near one of the towering stones encircling the camp. It was an eerie sight; the magnificent stones, arranged as if by a giant hand, stood in a perfect circle. You had never seen anything like it before. Was it some kind of sacred place? Perhaps remnants of a forgotten temple? The strange ornaments engraved in the middle, just within reach, sparked a sense of familiarity you couldn't grasp. The whole setting gave you a weird feeling you couldn't quite place.

The warmth of the hot brew shared around the fireplace enveloped you, soothing your aching joints and beckoning for rest. You spread your blanket on the opposite side of the camp, as far as possible from the grim warrior that apparently hated you for just being you.

It wasn't surprising; you were accustomed to it. People had feared and hated you for as long as you could remember. You recalled being just a small girl when it first happened, playing with the other kids of the village at the foot of the nearby hill.

It was the noise that first caught your attention—a scratchy, unpleasant sound of something rubbing against itself. Then, you saw it—a large stone slowly starting to shake and then loosening from its perch at the top. You remember screaming, shouting for everyone to run, but one of the boys stumbled and fell. Time seemed to stand still for a moment; you acted on instinct, reaching out with your hand in a stupid and desperate wish to stop the stone from crashing onto your friend. And miraculously, it stopped. It remained suspended in mid-air, just above the fallen boy, as if held by a magic hand.

He scrambled to his feet and ran, and they all followed suit, casting fearful glances back at you as you lowered your hand and the stone crashed to the ground with a deafening thud. Even now, when recalling that day, you could still feel the absolute terror in their eyes. Not because they had just escaped death, no, they were terrified of you.

That night, the elders of the village came to your parents, and by the same nightfall, they hurriedly packed all their belongings, and you left. You left your home, your village, your friends—everything. And ever since then, you've been running. There was something within you, a power you didn’t understand and never wanted to possess. It was only much later, as you became a grown woman, that you found out there were others like you - the Aes Sedai. But the way people spoke about them, the tales they told, and the fear they instilled just reinforced your conviction that your power had to remain secret, hidden until you took it with you to the grave.

You sank down onto your blanket, wrapping another around you, leaning your back against the stone behind you. Your eyes unconsciously wandered again to the stern warrior on the other side of the camp.

Why? By the light, why me? were your last conscious thoughts before sleep took over.

You were in that sweet spot between asleep and awake, still wrapped in the cosy embrace of dreams when the sounds of the outside world started creeping in, signalling the start of a new day. You kept your eyes shut, not quite ready to let go of that blissful moment just yet.

“Where are we?” came a voice, dripping with anger. It sounded oddly familiar, but you couldn't quite place it.

Masema. The name jolted through your mind, instantly dispelling the dreamy fog. You snapped awake, finding Masema towering over you. You scrambled to a sitting position, taking in your surroundings with a mix of awe and confusion.

“I-I don't know,” you stammered, just as confused as he was, if not more so.

Moments ago, you had been lying on the ground with all your companions, and now you were... wherever this place was. It was unlike anything you had ever seen before.

You were still seated among the magnificent stones, where the camp had been, but that was where the similarities ended. The place bore no resemblance to where you had fallen asleep. You vividly recalled the stones positioned in a clearing near the woods, surrounded by untouched, lush grass and the scent of nameless wildflowers lingering in the air. Now, as far as your eyes could see, there was nothing but barren, cracked soil, with withered trees sporadically dotting the landscape. The hot air and dust burned your lungs as you struggled to take a deep breath.

“This is all your fault!” Masema's words snapped you back to reality, his eyes dark with anger. “You brought us here, now bring us back!” he demanded.

“And, why would it be my fault? You’re here, too! You might be the one responsible for this, you know?” you spat at him, your words filled with venom to match his.

It was only then that the absurdity of the situation began to sink in, and panic slowly crept over you. What had happened? Where were you? And of all the people you could have ended up with, why did it have to be Masema, the Shienaran warrior who clearly despised you, stranded with you in this desolate wasteland?

"I knew from the very first sight of you that you couldn't be trusted," Masema's voice, cold and calm, sent shivers down your spine, more chilling than any insult he could hurl in anger.

“What did I do, for you to hate me so much?” you knew it was not the right time nor place for this question, there were much more pressing issues to be cleared, but you couldn’t just leave it.

“You look just like them! You speak like them! You walk like them! Everything you do makes you look a little more like them! And sooner or later you’ll show who you really are, you cannot fool me,” he snorted.

"Like who? The Aiel? You flatter me. I would give much to be like them, to possess their strength, their ability to defend themselves against prejudice-driven fools who judge solely based on appearance," anger simmered within you.

“You don’t know me!” you finally shouted. “You did not even give me a chance to prove my worth, you just judge me straight away because you think you are better than anyone else, you think you know better than anyone else. But you know nothing about me.” The last words were punctuated by a pointed index finger jabbing into his chest, your eyebrows furrowed with anger.

Finally, you took one more step forward until you were face to face, sharing the same air. You stared him straight in the eyes, letting him see the pain his words inflicted.

“I don't deserve your hatred! You don’t know me, so stop pretending like you do!”

Without waiting for a response, you swiftly began to pack your blankets into your saddlebag.

"You know what? I'm done with all of this! We're parting ways! You go one direction, and I'll go the other! Good luck!" you hissed in frustration. The overwhelming need to escape from this place, to evade the stern, judgmental gaze of those peculiar eyes, left no room for any other thought. You didn’t give him a chance to reply; you didn’t even want one. With that, you turned your back on him, slung your saddlebag over your shoulder, and strode away, devoid of any plan or destination.

You had no idea how long you had aimlessly wandered before spotting a small stream, a mirage of life amidst the ash-grey desolation. Hastily, you uncapped your leather flask, filling it with the precious, life-giving water.

Leaving Masema behind had undoubtedly been a mistake, but there was no turning back now. You couldn't simply reappear before him and offer apologies. You couldn’t admit he was actually right.

It must have been you. There was no other explanation, no other possibility. Even though you had no inkling of what triggered this or how you managed it. Lost in your thoughts, you watched the stream bubble, abruptly pulled from your reverie by an angry roar nearby.

Your head snapped up, pupils dilating in terror at the sight of the creature looming closer. Not even your worst nightmares could conjure something like this. Towering on massive, muscular hind legs, its leonine body was covered in mottled, algae-green scales, with a broad, frog-like head boasting bulging, lidless eyes gleaming with eerie intelligence and a ring of sharp, serrated teeth.

Your hand instinctively sought the small knife hidden in your clothes, fingers clenching around its shaft until your knuckles whitened. Being intended as this creature's next meal wasn't the destiny you envisioned, but you were resolved to make your life as costly as possible.

In a heartbeat, a strong arm gripped yours, yanking you aside with incredible force as the creature lunged. Your bewildered gaze fell on Masema, wielding his sword with determined precision. It was an uneven fight, the creature dwarfing the agile warrior and its scales seemingly impenetrable to his blade.

"The eyes, they're unprotected! Aim for its eyes!" you shouted and the beast's attention momentarily turned towards you. In that very same moment Masema seized the chance, leaping and aiming for the creature's head. The blade sliced through its left eye, eliciting a deafening howl that pierced the air.

Your chest heaved with horror as you witnessed the creature falter, collapsing onto its front paws before slumping to the ground. Unstoppable sobs wracked your body as you sank to your knees, horror consuming you, and strong arms encircled your shoulders, preventing you from collapsing to the ground.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, arms wrapped around your legs as you sat on your blanket spread by the fire Masema had made in the middle of the stone circle. "You're probably right. It's my fault we're stuck here, don't know where."

A furrowed eyebrow was the only indication that Masema was paying attention, engrossed in sharpening his sword, seemingly oblivious to your presence.

"It's not the first time strange things have happened to me," you continued, feeling like there was nothing left to lose. You knew he hated you—could he hate you even more? Did it even matter? The landscape stretched before you, empty and dusty. Having the glorious choice between death from hunger or the claws of that creature—definitely not the last of its kind—you preferred the more swift one, or better yet, the quick, soothing death by Masema’s sword seemed actually the most appealing choice.

"There's something inside me, and it frightens me," you confessed. "It's like I have access to a pool of unlimited power, but every time I try to grasp it, it slips away. And then, sometimes, when I least expect it, I can feel it in my fingertips. It's so tangible, I could almost touch it."

"What kind of strange things?" Masema inquired nonchalantly, as if asking about your breakfast.

"I've made rocks freeze in the air, ignited things, moved objects without touching them," you said, trying to keep your voice casual, but unable to hide the tremor of anxiety. You had never spoken to anyone about it, and now you were revealing your deepest secret to someone who was almost an enemy. Yes, he had saved your life, but it hadn't seemed to change his attitude toward you.

"I never wanted it, never asked for it! It's a curse," you admitted, resting your head on your knees. Your body shivered, not from the cold, but from the anger and despair boiling within you. "And now I've cursed you too."

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't even notice Masema approaching until his hand landed on your shoulder, startling you as he sat down beside you.

"I knew you were trouble from the first moment I saw you," there was a new, unexpected tone in his voice that made you raise your head. Something in Masema's eyes caused a chill to run down your back and the flickering red light from the fire only intensified the hypnotic effect of his stern gaze.

"I didn’t mean any harm to anybody. I’m so sorry. You have every right to hate me," tears welled up in your eyes.

"Hush," Masema's rough fingers gently cupped your chin, his thumb brushing away the tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. "There is such a fire within you. I can feel it. I could see it in your eyes as you faced that creature. A spirit so daring, so brave, captured in such a small and fragile frame."

A soft gasp of surprise escaped your chest as Masema's lips pressed against yours, his palms cradling your face and drawing you close. Your mind raced, torn between eagerness and bewilderment. You placed your palm on his chest, as if to push him away, but instead, your fingers hooked into Masema's leather armour, pulling him closer.

Wasn’t this what you had yearned for all this time, tormented by his inexplicable rejection? Hadn't you dreamed of feeling these strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close? Or was it the desperation of this hopeless situation that made you cling to his broad chest, seeking the warmth of his body as confirmation that you were still alive? You didn’t care. Thrill and arousal running through your veins, you could only moan against his lips, slowly parting yours to welcome him into your mouth.

"I've been craving this since the moment I laid eyes on you. Whatever power brought us here, away from everybody, I'm grateful for it," Masema's husky voice enveloped you, sending shivers down your spine. His hand found its way to the back of your neck, holding you in place as his mouth trailed down to your neck, leaving hot, stinging marks on your sensitive skin.

You whimpered at the stirring sensation, your longing for his touch growing into a burning need, overpowering all your other senses. In the next moment, you found yourself pressed onto your back, the thick, soft blanket barely enough to shield you from the hard ground, Masema looming over you.

"You resemble the fiercest enemy I've ever faced, yet you make my blood boil with desire," your breath caught in your throat as Masema's rough fingers wrapped around your wrists, pinning your hands above your head. There was something threatening, something inexplicably alluring in the sinister darkness of his lust-drunk eyes as they locked with yours. You met his gaze head-on, your eyes wide open, chest heaving, and teeth grazing along your lower lip in anticipation of his next move.

Masema leaned in, his lips hovering over yours, “Say it, say that you want me,” his eyes scanned you intently.

“By the light, I want you,” you breathed, rolling your hips against him like a slut and the throaty groan that left his lips upon your words, made you shiver. His mouth found yours and your breath was swept away from the sheer fury of his kiss while his hands let go of your wrists and began to work on your clothes, freeing your breasts from the confines of your corset, squeezing and kneading them, his rough fingers digging deep into your flesh.

Your eyes were rolling back into your head from his heated touch and you arched your back against the unforgiving hard ground as Masema’s lips closed around your hardened nipples. The small rocks beneath the blanket were digging into your shoulders and hips, but you didn’t even feel the sting, everything around you slowly fading until there was nothing apart from deep hunger for more, burning you from within.

“You think you have power? You are under my power, sweet little thing, you could be the Dragon himself, but you could do nothing against my power and I will use it to make you forget everything as you scream my name in pleasure,” the raw force, permeating Masema’s words, although whispered in hushed tones, made all the tiny hair on your skin stand on end. His hands were on your hips, pushing up your dress and pulling down your undergarments with hasty, rough movements. You drew a sharp breath, feeling the cool air on your bare dripping cunt just before Masemas hot tongue dived in between your folds, his lips closing around your pulsing clit, hands pinning your hips to the ground.

“Light help me,” you wined, burying your fingers into the soft and plush fabric beneath you in a desperate attempt to ground yourself, but to no avail as Masema’s lips and tongue kept driving you closer to madness, lewd moans rolling over your lips.

“It can’t help you. Nothing can help you now, you’re mine and only mine,” Masema grinned against your centre, voice husky and deep, dripping with dark possessiveness that only added to the sinful sensation pulsing through your veins and bringing you closer to the edge, and you gasped loudly as he forced two fingers into you. You felt as if you were flying or maybe falling, you couldn’t tell, too lost in the feeling of your climax approaching, each lap of his tongue, each movement of his fingers amplifying the pleasure and pushing you further into oblivion.

“Say it, to whom do you belong?” Masema groaned, speeding up his movements.

Was this what had attracted you to the stern and silent warrior from the very first day? His whole presence spoke of strength and assertiveness, of power and ownership, of being someone to take what’s his and never letting go of it, defending it with his life if needed. Tired of loneliness you craved for the soothing feeling of belonging to someone. It was intoxicating, almost addicting – that feeling of having found someone ready to claim you, to possess you, to protect you. You wanted to be his, you were his.

“Yours, Masema, I’m yours. By the light I’m yours,” you moaned, and Masema’s satisfied growl vibrated against your centre, adding the last touch that brought you over the edge. You came on his fingers, whimpering his name, forgetting where you were or who you were as your body convulsed under the waves of pure bliss running through your veins.

“Such a good girl, my powerful, secret Aes Sedai, my dragon,” Masema grinned, observing you carefully, as he kept fucking you with his fingers through your orgasm, “so beautiful, so tight around my fingers. I can already imagine how good you will feel around my cock.”

Head spinning from the intensity of your orgasm, you breathed heavily, chest rising high with each inhale. Eyes half lid you watched Masema pulling off his leathers and undoing his breeches. You had always noted Masema's well-built physique, his muscular arms hinted at beneath his armour. However, the sight of his perfectly sculpted upper body, revealed before your eyes, made you swallow hard. Even more so as your eyes landed on his thick, fully hard cock ready to claim you. You yelped as Masema grabbed you by your hips and flipped over on your stomach in one quick motion.

“I’m not done with you yet, my sweet little dragon,” he whispered into your ear, pushing your dress up your ass and pulling you to your knees. You whimpered as his large, rough palms landed on your buttock, spreading your cheeks.

“Perfect, so perfect,” Masema grunted, teasing your entrance with his finger. You moaned and pushed back into his touch. “Patience, beautiful,” he chuckled, “trust me, I know exactly what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”

A muffled cry escaped your lips as Masema’s hand reached out, grabbing your hair, and pulled you up back flush against his chest. His left hand fingers wrapped around your throat, squeezing it slightly, just enough to pull a soft whine from you.

“I’ll give it to you, if you’ll ask me nicely,” Masema’s breath hot against your neck made shivers go down your spine or were it his words and hoarse, lust drunken voice? You couldn’t tell, you didn’t care, you were unable to think straight your mind swept clear from any other thought apart from the need to have him finally inside you, to feel him use you, to fuck you into madness.

“Please,” you gasped, your breath getting more ragged with each passing moment.

“Please, what?” Masema whispered, his left hand still around your throat, the other squeezing your breast, fingers rubbing your hardened nipple.

“Please, fuck me. Take me,” a deep moan rolled over your lips as Masema pressed you down and pushed his hard length into your tightness with a loud groan. He paused for a moment, savouring the feeling of your walls squeezing around him and taking him in.

“So sweet, so bold and dearing and yet so obedient, and so fucking tight, you are a gift of the Creator himself,” Masema hummed, as he pulled out and slammed back into you, making you moan and gasp as his pace was picking up. He was not gentle, not in the way his fingers dug into your flesh, to keep you in place, not in the way his hips snapped against you, as he forced himself deeper and deeper into you with each thrust, not in the way his hand found its way to you hair again, jerking you up against his chest, making you cry out both in pain and pleasure simultaneously.

Your eyes were rolling back into your head, breath catching in your chest, as Masema fucked you relentlessly, mercilessly, his groans filling your ears, and your body responded to his every touch, every rough thrust. Nobody had ever desired you so carnally, so intensively, his hold on you so primal and possessive, determined to bring you to the highs of pleasure you had never experienced before, driving you mad and pushing you higher and higher.

“More, by the light, Masema, I need more,” you mewled and the wild growl that ripped through Masema left you grinning as he pushed you back down to the blanket, seized your hips in an iron grip, you were sure to leave bruises and marks in your soft flesh, and fastened his pace.

You tried to muffle your moans with your hand, but Masema was quick to grab it and pull your arm behind your back.

“Don’t be shy, my sweet dragon, there is nobody who could hear you in this cursed world you’ve brought us to,” he chuckled, “I want to hear you, I want to hear how much you enjoy my cock.”

You didn’t answer, unable to make any coherent word, your voice trapped in the depths of your throat, but the wanton sounds rolling over your lips were the only response he needed as he kept pounding into you, fucking you breathless.

You could feel Masema’s movements getting sloppier, his heavy breathing turning into hoarse, rugged panting, and you clawed your fingernails forcefully in the blanket, closing your eyes as Masema let go of your arm and reached between your thighs, his fingers rubbing your pulsing clit, giving you the last push you needed to fall again into oblivion. The climax shot through your body with the force of a lightning, your limbs trembling as you screamed Masemas name into the black void around you. You would have collapsed from the intensity of your orgasm washing over you, if not for Masema’s hands holding your hips tightly as he kept fucking you through your peak, loud groans leaving his lips as he came just moments later, his cock twitching inside you and filling you with his warm seed.

You slumped down onto the blanket the moment Masema’s hands let go of you and he followed you crushing down beside you, both panting hard. You didn’t expect that, but Masema’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush to his chest as his lips planted tender kisses on the top of your head.

"You didn't believe me," you whispered between panting breaths.

"Oh, I believe you. More importantly, I believe in you. You brought us here, and you'll bring us back. I have no doubts about it, my little dragon," he whispered, nuzzling against your hair.

“Wake up,” Masema rattled your shoulder, tearing you away from the sweet world of dreams.

“Just one last moment,” you muttered without opening your eyes, your arms reaching out, seeking the warmth of his body.

“There's no time. Wake up! They're approaching,” the urgency in Masema's voice jolted you from your slumber.

“Who's approaching?” you asked, your eyes fluttering wide open.

“I would rather ask what is approaching,” Masema chuckled. “Can't you hear it?”

The wild roar that tore through the air made you jump to your feet.

“What was that?” you asked, fear etched on your face.

“I think it might be some friends of our yesterday's acquaintance,” Masema chuckled, “And they are coming in company. Sweetie, it's time to go home,” his gaze slid expectantly over you.

“What? But I can’t. Masema, I have no idea how,” you sobbed.

“Listen to me. I've been thinking about what you told me. Do you know what the locals call these stones?”

“No,” you shivered, listening to the sounds of wild roars and feeling the earth trembling beneath your feet.

“Obanda stones. Obanda means 'door' in the old tongue. This must be how you got us here—through the stones. And this is how you can bring us back.”

“Masema, it's insane. I have no idea how to do that,” desperation laced your voice.

Masema's fingers brushed against your cheeks, and he cupped your chin to raise your head.

“I'm here to protect you. Whatever comes. I don't care who you are. I don't care what power you wield. I will protect you, always,” the certainty in his voice, devoid of doubt or hesitation, sent a shiver down your spine.

"Look at me," he commanded, and as if drawn by an irresistible force, you raised your gaze to meet his eyes.

"Give me your hand," he continued, and you complied, raising your arm. You flinched as Masema's large, rough palm wrapped around your fingers, squeezing them painfully. "I'm here with you. Hold on to me. I believe in you. You brought us here, you’ll bring us back. You can do it," he reassured, his other arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you tightly against his muscular body.

"Now, I want you to put your hand on the stone," he breathed against your ear. The calmness and certainty in his voice were hypnotising, leaving no room for doubt. The howling and growling around you grew closer as the beasts encircled you. Your heart raced in your chest, as panic and fear enveloped you.

"I can’t do it! Masema, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I never learned to use it properly. I don’t know how to do it," words tumbled from your lips in an unstoppable rush, your body shaking uncontrollably. You had brought this doom upon both of you. Your ignorance, your unwillingness to embrace the power bestowed upon you had led you here, and it would be the death of you both. "I can’t do it. I’m so sorry, Masema," tears rolled down your cheeks.

There was no point in trying, all you wanted was to turn around, to gaze into his mismatched eyes, to melt into his embrace, bury your nose into his chest, and breathe in his scent for the one last time. But Masema’s firm grip on your waist prevented you from doing so.

“I can’t,” you sobbed, leaning heavily against him as your knees grew weak and wobbly, “I just can’t do it.”

“Raise your hand,” Masema ordered, squeezing your fingers again. The pain jolted through your body, sharpening your hazy mind. There was something in his voice that brooked no disobedience. Despite your reluctance, despite having already given up and resigned yourself to the approaching death, you obeyed. You raised your quivering hand, reaching out almost to touch the cold surface. A piercing howl echoed just behind you, and you froze, your palm mere millimetres from the stone.

"Don’t look back. Close your eyes and listen to me," Masema's voice remained steady, unwavering. It washed over your senses like a waterfall—soft, low, and slightly husky, yet remarkably calm and soothing. Even his breath maintained a steady rhythm, as if he were engaged in a casual conversation over breakfast rather than standing with you in the midst of nowhere, surrounded by hungry, bloodthirsty creatures, his only hope of escape hanging by the fragile thread of a scared girl, unsure of how to wield the power she possessed.

Masema's presence enveloped you like a soft cloud, calming the tempest of your swirling thoughts. His steady heartbeat seemed to set a new, measured rhythm for your own racing heart. The world around you faded away, leaving only his firm, commanding yet gentle voice echoing in your mind.

"Touch the stone," Masema whispered into your ear, pressing you tightly against his chest. "Don’t think. Feel. I trust you."

You couldn’t recall giving your hand the command to move forward, but it did so the very moment Masema’s words left his lips. The stone felt unforgivingly cold, its polished surface so smooth that you could feel each and every cut and line of the ancient runes engraved in it. Closing your eyes, you pressed your palm more firmly against it, with Masema’s hot breath on your neck serving as the only reminder of the world around you, the sole connection grounding you as you reached out for the source of light within you and it answered your call, pulsing and growing within you.

You trembled, the power scorching through you, burning from within, seeping into every cell of your body, every corner of your mind, its radiance swallowing you. So many times had you tried to reach for that power, you knew dwelling inside you. You could sense it, an unending pool of light and warmth, retreating each time you consciously called upon it. And now it was suddenly there, flickering around your fingertips, permeating in your breath, wafting around you with the strength of a tempest, flowing in a ceaseless current, begging to be tamed and channelled.

Now it was you, squeezing Masemas hand with all the strength you had, seeking refuge in his unwavering confidence, in his steady breath on your neck, in his rhythmic heartbeat, as with a loud cry you channelled your power into the stone.

Suddenly, it was quiet around you. No howling, no growls, no sounds of approaching paws causing the earth to tremble beneath your feet. Slowly, you opened your eyes. You were still standing in the same place, your palm pressed against the stone, Masema’s muscular arm around your waist, his other hand squeezing your left hand. You breathed in the fresh air, smelling of grass and rain. Rain! The realisation hit you like lightning.

“I did it!” a cry of triumph vibrated through your body. “Masema, I did it! We're back.”

In the next moment, you were turned around as light as a feather and pressed against the stone, with Masema towering over you.

“My little dragon, my powerful girl,” was all he said as his lips crushed against yours.

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