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[maddiesflame]

blackstairs headers

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[palioom]

little dove

summary: your first attendance of a huge feast is bothersome, alone and inexperienced as you are. until the eyes of a certain prince won't stop following you.

pairing: oberyn martell x f!reader

word count: 4.5k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; virginity/innocence kink; implied age gap (oberyn is in his early 40s, reader early 20s); fingering; unprotected p in v; creampie; some biting

a/n: another fic from last summer, hope you enjoy! ; headers & dividers by @/saradika-graphics

follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates

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Oberyn had been watching her all night already, his dark eyes following the shape of her wherever she went. Between the bustle of the people, her bright orange glowing dress like the sun, rising and settling as she appeared and disappeared, standing around like she didn’t know what to do with herself.

It was adorable, a smirk gracing his features as he watched her wring her hands, smiling sheepishly when someone approached her. 

So innocent.

He could see the nervousness on her face from where he sat, the uncertainty, clearly not used to people approaching her.

He could see the heavy rise and fall of her chest, exposed by the deep cut of her garments.

Taking another sip of his wine, Oberyn stood, deciding now was his time.

The festivities had been going on for a while, and even though he had planned on celebrating with a group of people in his bedchambers later, she had thrown those plans into the wind the second he set sight on her.

Something just intrigued him, maybe it was the innocence she seemed to harbour, maybe it was her beauty.

Whatever it was, he had to know more, waiving away another woman that approached him with a polite smile, then walking over to the mysterious woman.

She looked around nervously, playing with the rings on her hands as people passed by her, some stopping to talk to her.

Feeling incredibly out of place at this feast, her first big one, she didn't quite know what to do. Her parents were somewhere, as were her siblings.

The lords trying to speak to her made her feel uneasy, knowing she was supposed to find a possible suitor at some point, but wanting nothing more than to flee this place.

In fact, she was thinking about just leaving, when she was approached again.

Tall, dark haired and handsome. The Prince of Dorne, Oberyn Martell.

She had seen him at his table, stealing a glance every once in a while and looking away when his dark eyes caught hers.

And now he stood in front of her, flashing her a wide smile.

“My Prince.” She said, curtsying as well as she could, perhaps a little clumsily. 

Out of everything she had expected to happen today, she did not expect for him to approach her.

“Do you intend to sulk in the shadows all night, my dove?”

She blinked up at him, once again playing with the rings on her fingers.

“I have not been sulking.” A frown graced her face, a slight tremble in her voice. His presence was intimidating, but different from the other people who had approached her. “I have been observing.”

Oberyn chuckled, taking a small step closer to her, watching her step back just a little in return. So close to her, he could practically feel the nervosity radiating off of her, trying to hold eye contact before they moved away again, looking at anything but him.

“Observing by turning down all lords and ladies who approach you?” He said, watching her fingers stop for just a moment, as if she had been caught, before fiddling with her rings again. “I must admit, I have been watching you for a while - you are the only lady not dancing, not talking to anyone. Just standing in your corner, sometimes moving to follow the servants for a drink or something to eat.”

She stayed quiet. Had she been that noticeable? Just by standing around, hoping for a saving grace?

“I assume this to be your first attendance at a feast this big, am I correct, my dove?”

That nickname.

It made her feel warm, a different kind of warmth than the Dornish weather. Running through her in an unfamiliar fashion, her veins like molten metal, a strange feeling moving up her spine..

“Yes, my Prince.” She said, nodding, but not looking at him.

Oberyn noticed how she became more nervous, smirking at the display in front of him.

“My parents have kept me from them for long, I was only ever allowed to attend small ones.” She continued, sighing. “It is quite overwhelming. I am inexperienced in these kinds of things.”

Her words made him inhale sharply through his nose, still smiling.

If she was inexperienced in this, what else was she inexperienced in?

He had wanted her before, but now the desire for her burned even brighter. Oberyn wanted to show her the things her parents have undoubtedly sheltered her from.

To keep their daughter pure for a potential suitor.

“I understand, my dove. Would you perhaps allow me to accompany you to a place more quiet?”

Usually, he did not beat around the bush when it came to a potential partner for the night.

But it was different with her. If he was blunt he would simply chase her away.

She didn’t look at him, thinking about his question.

All the other men and women that had asked before had made her feel uneasy. Unsure why they wanted to whisk her away, promising a better night someplace else.

But the Prince of Dorne? He made her feel different. A heat and a pressure in her abdomen that she never felt before.

She knew of the rumours, that he took many partners, for whatever they did. Yet, as he stood in front of her, charming smile and good looks, she felt herself drawn to him.

Oberyn reached out, placing a finger under her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “I asked you a question, my dove.”

His fingers on her chin made her still, just looking up at him with her big eyes, lips slightly parted. The touch made that pressure worse, breath hitching in her throat.

“My Prince, I’m-” She stumbled over her words, unsure what to answer.

He just chuckled, a sigh leaving him. “You are quite easily flustered, my dove. Come with me, please.”

Holding out his arm for her to take, he hoped she would. Such an innocent, pretty thing. There was something so endearing about the way she was behaving.

She swallowed hard, looking from his face to his arm, hesitating for a moment. Something drew her to him, and after another moment, she hooked her arm into his with a nervous smile.

Oberyn walked her away from the feast, the noises dying down behind them as they walked the long corridors.

“What did the other lords and ladies ask of you, my dove?” 

She sighed, glad to be away from the bustle in the halls, but feeling uncertain now, a throbbing at the apex of her thighs distracting her.

“They wished to take me away for some fun. I’m unsure what they meant exactly.” She didn’t look at him, too nervous to meet his dark, piercing eyes. 

It was intimidating, she had never been in the presence of a man other than her father or her brothers alone. She knew how to behave, for the most part, but nonetheless was it a little scary.

Oberyn smirked, looking down to her, seeing how she only stared at the floor or ahead of them. 

“You did not know what they were implying?” He asked, a bit amused but genuinely curious. “My little dove, you must be younger than I thought or your parents simply were too careless with your education.”

She remained quiet, her cheeks growing hot. 

A sense of shame washed over her, that he thought she was too young. It was as if her friends were with her, giggling and whispering because of something she didn’t understand.

And when she asked, they never explained, finding it too amusing to laugh and belittle her.

There was something she was missing out on, and she hated not knowing what.

“My dove, you do not have to be ashamed.” He said, his other hand coming to gently rest on hers. “If you wish, I could show you.”

He had been right about the assumptions of her being a virgin, too innocent for her own good.

Walking next to her, he felt something else besides the desire for her, a need to protect.

As if he was the only one allowed to show her, that anyone else would simply take advantage of this fact.

Now her eyes met his, brows furrowed. 

“Show me?” She echoed his words. “How? What exactly?”

Oberyn just smiled, eyes leaving hers to look at the guards standing by the door of his chambers.

He stopped, not too far away from the door, looking back at her.

“Do you wish for me to show you, my dove?” He asked, brushing back a strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear. “If not, I understand.”

She should be wary. Despite him being the Prince of Dorne, she should think about this. But she was curious, so curious about what this thing was that she had been missing out on.

And there was still that feeling inside of her.

“Yes, my Prince.” She said with a small nod. “I am curious, please.”

He chuckled, his knuckles brushing over her cheek. “Please, call me Oberyn, my dove.”

Moving along, the guards allowed them to enter, the heavy door falling shut behind them. Oberyn let go of her arm, walking over to a table to pour himself some wine, then offering her a cup.

She took it with a small nod, taking in his quarters. They were richly decorated, the bed massive.

Just how she would imagine it, if she had ever spent time on that before meeting him.

Taking a sip of her wine, Oberyn laid a hand on her waist with a gentle smile, pulling her closer to him.

“Most people stare when they first come here.” He said, his hand wandering up and down her side. “Don’t be nervous, little dove.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. That was easier said than done, the heat inside her becoming unbearable at this point.

His hand on her side felt like it was burning her, even through the thin fabric of her gown. Like it was hot coals placed on her.

“Have you ever been kissed, my dove?” He asked suddenly, eyes searching hers. Pulling her just a little closer to him.

She shook her head no, slowly. Heart beating in her throat, he was so close to her. 

She could feel the warmth of him, twirling the cup of wine in her hand.

“Would you allow me to?”

There was some hesitation inside her, her hands stilling. Should she allow him to? She wanted to, somehow.

Often had she imagined what it felt like, kissing someone.

Her answer came in the form of a nod, her head barely moving.

Oberyn smiled, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.

“Oh, my little dove.”

Despite his growing desire, he moved gently, bending down to place his lips onto hers. The small gasp that left her made him chuckle, his other hand coming to rest on her hip and pull her hips flush against his.

She stiffened beneath his touch, liking the way his lips felt on hers, surprisingly soft, while his beard and moustache tickled her skin. Holding onto her cup tightly, she closed her eyes, humming when he deepened the kiss and she tried to match his movements, clumsy and inexperienced.

When he parted from her, she chased after him, opening her eyes when she couldn’t. Oberyn laughed at that, staying close to her, his thumb brushing over her cheek.

She looked adorable, the way she greedily breathed in air, lips slightly parted. Still too nervous, too stiff.

“What do you think, my dove?” He asked, leaning closer again so their noses were almost touching. “Would you like for me to show you more? There is quite an array of things I could assist you with.”

His fingers curled into her hip, and when she nodded, he only smiled wider.

“I promise to be gentle, my dove. A beauty such as you needs to be handled with care.”

She didn’t know what he meant, but it didn’t matter, because as soon as he kissed her again, more eager this time, her mind went blank.

His hand briefly left her hip to take the cup from her hands, placing it on the table next to them, before it was back, pulling her against his chest and making her gasp.

Letting his tongue glide against hers at the opportunity, Oberyn heard her muffled moan, relishing in the sweet sound.

The way she tried to kiss him back was delightful, so tender and new, trying to keep up with him.

Slowly he manoeuvred her back towards the bed, having to hold onto her waist as her steps became unsure, stumbling backwards once, her cheeks glowing even hotter.

The throbbing only became more intense, and when they reached the bed and he gently pushed her to sit at the foot of it, she squeezed her thighs together, looking for relief.

There was a wetness now that felt foreign to her.

Oberyn noticed, amused at the display.

“Are you aching, my dove?” He asked, his hands coming to the belt tied around his waist.

Aching.

It did hurt, but in a different way. Not like a bruise or a cut.

She nodded. “A little. My Prince- Oberyn, what- I don’t understand what is happening.”

Poor thing. Her parents had done a horrible job to prepare their daughter.

To leave her in the dark at such an age.

She watched him undo his belt, letting it fall to the floor before motioning for her to move further back to the middle of the bed.

“You’re aroused, my dove. You feel the need for cock.” He explained, shedding his robe, then crawling over her. “Have you seen a cock before, little dove?”

Her mouth went dry as she watched him undress, now only clad in a dark orange tunic and his breeches. 

Aroused.

Of course. But was she really aroused by him? In need of his cock?

She nodded, and she could see a flash of surprise grace his features. 

“In the bathhouses, yes.” She tried to hold his gaze, now hovering over her and letting his hand glide down her side. “From afar.”

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her cheek, then her neck, hearing the breathy moan spill from her lips, feeling her back arch slightly.

“In the bathhouses…” He repeated in a whisper, still some amusement in his voice. “Yet you don’t know a thing about this… about desire and fucking.”

The word felt vulgar, so close to her ear.

And she felt embarrassed again. That she didn’t know more, that she didn’t understand she was aroused just by him being near her, by him kissing her, by him hovering over her.

“Do you want me to show you, my dove? The thrill of desire?” He asked, still mouthing along her neck, gently, just feeling her as she squirmed, her own hands coming to rest on his broad shoulders. “How to fuck?”

Her breath hitched in her throat when he sucked at the junction of her neck and shoulder, a throaty moan leaving her.

“I- I do not know, Oberyn.” She stammered, fingers digging into his shoulders. The throbbing and the pressure were distracting her, just needing relief. “It hurts, it really hurts.”

His hand moved lower, down her side and to her thigh, gathering her skirts before it dipped below them.

“I can help you, my dove.” His hand wandered between her thighs, finding her dripping already, a soft sound escaping him at the feeling. “Oh, my dove. Wet and gushing like a waterfall and I have barely touched you.”

He sounded pitying almost, his fingers slipping between her folds, raising his head to watch her face when he found her clit.

A hiss left her, looking at him with wide eyes at the foreign feeling. It felt good, strange but good.

“Have you never touched yourself before? Brought yourself to the peak of pleasure?” He asked, drawing slow circles into her clit, with featherlight touches. 

She shook her head, trying to keep her eyes open, her legs opening further.

“Never, I didn’t know-”

“You poor thing.” He cooed, kissing her. 

When his fingers left her again, she whined in protest, one of her hands reaching out to grab his wrist. 

She didn’t even really know what was happening, simply that his touch felt good and that she wanted more.

Needed more.

The burning sensation inside her was so consuming and overwhelming while also hurting her.

“Oberyn, please, continue.” She said, guiding his hand back down but he escaped her grasp. 

“Do you know anything about this, my dove? About fucking, the feeling of something stretching you open? Feeling somebody’s naked skin against yours?”

Stretching her open? It sounded painful, she couldn’t imagine how anything could do that, and where.

But she didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to embarrass herself further.

She shook her head again. “No, I don’t.”

He chuckled, his hand coming up to tug one of the straps of her gown down her shoulder, then further down her arm, exposing her breast.

“My little dove, so innocent, so pure.” A sigh left him, watching her face as he touched her breast, just lightly brushing over the hardened nipple. Nothing could have prepared him for just how much her innocence spurred him on. “I will take care of you, just allow me to do so.”

“Please, please, Oberyn.” She whined, desperate. His hand felt good on her, back arching off the bed and into his touch, her head thrown back as she closed her eyes.

This was what she had missed out on, something so good and intense. If only he could touch her again.

Slowly Oberyn undressed her, slipping the garment down her body and kissing each inch of newly uncovered skin. Taking in how she whined and moaned, took in a sharp breath or hissed at the sensation.

She felt exposed, once he sat back and pulled the gown down her legs, his dark eyes raking over her naked form as she laid before him, resisting the urge to cover herself.

So sweet and pure. And he would be the one to ruin her, to taint her beautiful body.

Thank the Gods it was him and not someone else.

“So pretty.” He said, a hand gliding up and down her thigh, the other working open his tunic. “My little dove, all for me to enjoy. I shall show you the heights of pleasure.”

She watched as he shed the garment, exposing his toned torso, the muscles under his skin moving. She was mesmerized, despite having seen this so many times at the bathhouses, when she came to find her siblings or her parents.

His hands moved down to his breeches, opening them just as slowly as he had done with the rest of his clothing.

“It seems as if my little dove has found something she likes.” He chuckled, shedding the last piece of clothing, kneeling between her spread legs, just as exposed as she was.

Cock heavy and throbbing, her eyes were fixed on it.

It was bigger than what she had seen before. But she didn’t know if she should mind that.

“Don’t be scared, my dove.” Oberyn said, moving to hover over her again, one hand on her thigh, his cock brushing against her stomach. “I’ll prepare you to take me.”

“Take me?” She asked, gasping when his hand found that sweet spot again, applying more pressure this time and leaving her breathless.

He hummed against her neck, kissing and sucking on her skin, taking in her sweet sounds.

So adorable, needing to be taught. Not knowing what pleasures awaited her.

His hand moved lower and he felt how she stiffened when one finger pressed against her hole.

“Don’t be scared…” He repeated, slowly pushing a single digit in, groaning when he felt her squeeze around him, her nails digging into his shoulders with a whine.

It felt strange, his thick finger inside of her, moving in and out slowly. Yet it also felt good, her hips rolling on their own, legs opening wider.

“Oberyn-” She moaned, voice breaking, the pressure inside her easing just a little. 

His mouth found hers again, continuing to move his finger slowly, his cock twitching at the thought of burying himself inside her soon.

“Tell me how it feels, little dove. You might be ready for another finger soon.”

She whined, concentrating on the foreign feeling, the stretch when he pushed a second finger in.

“It feels good, my Prince- Oberyn.” She breathed, her mind feeling as if it was floating on a cloud, hissing when he scissored his fingers inside of her. “It hurts a little, but it feels good.”

He chuckled, kissing her cheek and down to her jaw, then down her neck again.

“My dove, you feel splendid, gripping my fingers so tight with your sweet cunt.”

Something inside her built, blood hot like molten metal as it rushed through her, building her higher and higher until he took his fingers from her again.

A noise of protest died in her throat, his teeth softly sinking into her shoulder.

He grinned at that, lifting his head to look at her, bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a deep hum.

“Finer than any wine.” Oberyn said, positioning himself so his cock was lined up with her. “My dove, I promise to be gentle. It may sting nonetheless.”

She nodded, drowsy and wanting nothing more than this ache to end. He said his cock would help, and so she wished for nothing more than him to enter her where his fingers just had been.

“Please, help me relieve this ache.” She said, feeling him against her, so much thicker than his fingers.

Oberyn watched as he entered her, grunting at how tight she still was, seeing her eyes squeeze shut and take a sharp breath.

It stung, he hadn’t lied about that, his lips finding hers as he pushed in further, muffling her whimpers while he buried inch after inch inside of her.

All the way until he was fully sheathed inside of her, hips flush against hers, one of his hands coming to rest on her thigh, squeezing it gently.

“It hurts, Oberyn.” She breathed when he broke from her, looking back at him, his lips on her cheek again.

“I know, my dove. You will feel better soon, don’t you worry.”

It was so new, the sensation of being filled, of him inside of her and stretching her out just as he had said.

Overwhelming, someone being so close to her, inside of her, his hot skin against hers, his soft lips on her cheeks.

The pain slowly fading into a need, the throbbing returning, as did the pressure.

Her hips moving on their own, making him chuckle, the sound vibrating against her chest. 

“Are you sure you wish to continue already, my dove?” He asked, kissing a spot just below her ear that sent a shiver through her. “I cannot stop myself if we do, your cunt is simply too tight and inviting.”

She nodded, whispering a silent please.

So he slowly pulled back, setting a lazy rhythm of shallow thrusts, her dragged out moans like music to his ears, a little symphony written just for him as he drove back into her over and over again.

“You feel perfect, my dove, what an honour to teach you about the pleasures of the flesh.” Oberyn groaned, his hands grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his hips, making her whimper loudly. “You won’t find a nicer cunt than that of this little virgin dove.”

She let him move, rolling her hips, trying to meet his thrusts, that something inside her building again, becoming stronger this time.

If this really was what she had been missing out on, what she had been ridiculed for, she never wanted it to stop now that she had it.

The feeling pleasant as the ache became less and less present.

Oberyn had to hold back to not just drive into her with his entire force, losing himself in how good she felt, but still wanting this to be something good for her, as much as he desired her.

Already knowing he would seek her out again and again, her innocence far from gone, her sounds so sweet in his ears, her hands so soft as they grabbed at him, trying to find purchase on his body.

“My dove, you are close, I can feel you.” He rasped, his movements becoming sloppier, lips dancing over her skin. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

“Close to what?” She asked, words catching on her breath, feeling something but unsure if it was what he meant.

Gods, she was so adorable.

“Oh, you will see, my dove.”

His hand moved between them, finding her clit.

And with just a few movements, something snapped inside of her so suddenly and with such force that all breath left her, a strangled noise catching in her chest as her veins burned, the pressure in her abdomen released. 

She was trembling, holding him against her tightly as he kept moving, thrusts harsher now.

“There you are, my little dove, isn’t that wonderful? The heights, the peak?”

It was a pretty sight, her face contorted in bliss and pleasure but also so shocked by what was happening to her, by these new feelings.

She could only whine, falling silent when she heard him grunt deeply into her ear, stilling above her.

Spilling himself deep inside of her before rolling off of her, not separating but rolling her with him so she came to rest on top of him.

She felt exhausted suddenly, the euphoric feelings still coursing through her veins.

And he felt solid beneath her body, catching his breath just as she did, his hands carding through her hair.

“Now, my dove, how do you feel?” He asked, watching her face as she rested on him. “Are you satisfied?”

If anyone had told her just a few hours ago that she would land in the bed of the Prince of Dorne, she would have laughed at them.

But now, it seemed quite nice.

She nodded. “I feel exhausted, but I am very grateful for what you showed me.”

A smile stretched her lips wide, he liked it. She seemed to be less nervous.

He chuckled, one hand wandering down to smooth over her back. Normally he would be far from done, already planning another round of pleasure.

But she truly seemed too exhausted by this. After all, she hadn’t even known about any of this until now.

Her eyes drifted shut, but she was still awake, listening to his heartbeat.

“Oh, my dove.” He said quietly, kissing the top of her head. “There is so much more to show you, I am far from done with you.”

She felt warm at the idea, curious what else there was to discover. Her eyes felt too heavy to open them again, slowly drifting off into sleep on top of him.

Oberyn simply smiled, sighing deeply.

Yes, he was far from done. 

There was so much to learn, so much to discover.

And he couldn’t wait to see her face once he began to truly teach his little dove.

[thenameswinterfics]

SCIAMACHY

Fandom: House of the Dragon Pairing: Cregan Stark x DragonDreamer!Reader Settings: Season 2 and post season 2 Summary: As the second child of King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Aemma Arryn, your father arranged your marriage to the young Lord of Winterfell, Cregan Stark, in the guise of an arranged marriage that would strengthen the bond between your Houses. But you are haunted by visions of a bloody war shaking the Seven Kingdoms, and the seeds of your doubt are sown when your sister's claim to the throne is challenged. Word Count: 4,4 K Warnings: Angst, mention of death, mention of grief, mention of character(s) death(s), mention of child loss, mention of sibling loss, major spoilers from the book "Fire and Blood" (if you're only following the show please do not read this fic). A/N: I'm back! (sadly for you) This is my very first fic I've written for the HOTD fandom and the very first fic of Cregan. I'm nervous, maybe even more than when I posted my first Sihtric fic, probably because the fandom is vast. It came out different of what I've planned in my head and I lowkey hate the last part, but I hope you still could enjoy it! A special thanks to @foxyanon and @zaldritzosrose for helping me with clearing my outline and for the title, and for her and @legitalicat for the quick beta reading.

Dedicated to my beautiful Cregan wife @sylasthegrim

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR MY GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY MISTAKES.

Header & dividers by @zaldritzosrose

READ IT ON AO3

Sciamachy: (n), a battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadows.

An unfamiliar chill ran down your spine as you walked through the dark corridors of the Red Keep, the place you were born but never called home. The soft crunching of the snow under your boots was the only sound you could hear as you juggled in the darkness, the faintest light in the form of rays filtering through the cracks in the walls and allowing you to see a little. 

The sight was vivid, far too vivid, and all you could do was rub your eyes vigorously, hoping that when your vision cleared you would find yourself surrounded by the crackling fire and warmth of your room in Winterfell, the place you were sent against your will but would be forced to call home once you became its new lady. 

But no matter how hard you tried to clear your vision: you would still recognise the long, oppressive corridors you had walked as a child, emptied of the countless soldiers of the Kingsguard that guarded it. Each step became an echo of the memories you thought you had buried with time, but which rose to the surface like a breath of fire from the dragon's jaws. 

You could still hear the voice of King Viserys, the father who despised you from the moment you took your first breath, guilty of stealing your twin brother's life and living in his name. A father that neglected you for not being born as a man.

You could still hear the voice of your sister Rhaenyra, sweet as honey and warm as a mother's embrace you had never known. You were the little sister she always wanted, the glimpse of freedom amidst her duties to the Crown and the relief from the pain of losing a childhood friend. And it mattered not that you were the quietest of her family, avoiding banquets and receptions in the throne room and sneaking out whenever you could, collecting the brightest bugs and muttering meaningless words, flinching when someone touched your hand: you were still her perfect little sister in her eyes. 

And her love was all you wanted right now. 

Your bittersweet thoughts were interrupted by a loud roar from outside, the sound so loud it made your head spin and your stomach churn. You quickened your pace, hoping to find a larger crack in the wall to see what was happening outside. And there you found a vision that made you freeze.

You saw two dragons, an older one and a younger one, chasing each other across a stormy sky, their dragon scales glowing under the lightning and thunder as their bodies pursued each other in a majestic yet macabre dance. It seemed an innocent game between them, but the claws and talons of the older dragon prevailed over the younger, and you watched helplessly as he fell to the ground like a comet from the sky, swallowed by the sea.

You walked on, your eyes never leaving the scene outside, wanting to help the little dragon disappear into the water. But the more you crossed the corridor, the heavier the air you breathed became, and roars of pain, of burning lands and clashing swords filled your ears like a cursed chant. 

You covered your ears and closed your eyes, stopping your journey towards the throne room. When you opened your eyes again, you saw a room far different from the one you were accustomed to: the vibrant and noisy ambience turned into a ghostly one, the faint rays of moonlight illuminating the Iron Throne. A bloody crown, Jaehaerys' crown, lay abandoned on the throne, rivulets of blood running down to your feet, two dragons lying restlessly behind it. Two children stood before it, their backs to each other, holding each other's hands; you could feel their tortured gaze as they watched the bloody chair, and your heart broke at the sight. 

As you approached, trying to touch the crown, soft footsteps made you turn and you heard a wolf howling in the distance.

And then you woke up. 

Duty is sacrifice. It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honour must pay its price. 

These were the words that came out from Cregan Stark's mouth as he escorted Jacaerys to the Wall. They were a testament to how the men of the North were bound by his rigid code of values and honour, and how none of them had ever forgotten or wavered from an oath. 

And when the Stark were called upon to renew their allegiance to House Targaryen, nothing would make them waver.

His father Rickon had already done so when he was summoned to King's Landing and bent the knee to Rhaenyra Targaryen, and a few years later it was Cregan's turn to renew the oath by accepting King Viserys' offer of marriage to the new lord of Winterfell. The young wolf had recently been freed from the regency of his zealous uncle Bennard, and an arranged marriage to a Targaryen princess would strengthen the bond between the two houses since the times of Aegon the Conqueror and Tohrren Stark. 

But when he saw the melancholy in your lilac eyes, Cregan realised that politics was nothing more than a sweet lie masking a more sinister purpose: you were no longer welcome at the court of King Viserys, no matter how much your sister begged to keep you under her protection, or how much Alicent Hightower dared to show a glimmer of mercy. You would have been a young dragon raised by a pack of wolves, and as his future wife it would have been his responsibility to look after you.

And now he was called to be sworn to House Targaryen again, on the brink of a civil war that could involve the North in Southern affairs. 

“The realm will soon tear itself apart if men do not remember the oath sworn to King Viserys and to his rightful heir,” Jacaerys announced solemnly, walking through the narrow corridors of the Walls, Cregan at his side. The Lord of Winterfell was holding Ice over one shoulder, the sword as heavy as the title inherited from his father. 

“Starks do not forget their oaths, my prince,” Cregan retorted, occasionally bowing his head to some members of the Night’s Watch, “But you must know that my gaze is forever torn between North and South,” he added, a hint of heavy responsibility in his voice. The threats in winter were much greater than in summer, with the Night's Watch and the men of Winterfell stepping up their activities on the Wall, ready to turn back any outside threats. Furthermore, it was rare to see the intervention of the North in matters concerning the South, but Cregan could not ignore that oaths were broken. And traitors had to pay for it.

“War is coming to the whole realm, my lord,” it was the Prince of Dragonstone’s turn to retort back, “Whilst your men plan to raise guards against wildlings, the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne. My mother’s claim has been compromised, and little I believe your lady wife could turn her gaze away,”

The words that escaped Jace's mouth left Cregan in a state of astonishment, his brows furrowing and hardening his already stern face. He had never expected the prince to use his wife so cleverly, even though she was a trusted member of his house whom he had sadly never met in peaceful circumstances.

“The Queen has not forgotten the love she has for her sister, and King’s Landing will welcome her again once my mother succeeds in keeping the realm united,”

“My lady wife has her sister's fate very much at heart,” Cregan continued, his gaze softening a bit at the thought of you, “and you arrival put her in a state of worry, my prince,”

The two young men then stood on the Wall, looking out over the untamed land, now covered in white snow. A biting wind whipped around them as Cregan explained how such powerful creatures as the dragons refused to cross the spaces beyond the Wall, highlighting the dangers of the unknown that folded these lands, while he and Jacaerys negotiated the number of men willing to aid Queen Rhaenyra's cause. Cregan himself knew the importance of keeping an oath to a man's moral integrity, and while his duties were tied to the Wall and the threat of the wildlings, he could not ignore the dispute over the king's word. 

“My lord,” one of Cregan’s men arrived, forcing the two young men to interrupt their conversation, “Urgent news from Dragonstone,” 

The Wolf of Winterfell took the parchment in his hands, and from the brief glance he shared with one of his men, he knew the contents were far from frivolous. He let the paper slip from his hands to read the message, and a sense of astonishment struck him like the chill of the North: his lips curled into a grimace, his eyebrows furled slightly as his grey eyes scanned the words printed on the paper. He could have thought it was an unfortunate joke, but the seal of House Targaryen only confirmed what he had read: 

"Prince Lucerys Velaryon has met his death at Storm's End, slain by Prince Aemond Targaryen.”

Cregan lifted his gaze to rest on Jacaerys' brown eyes and watched as the young prince's face contorted in confusion, then grief as he glanced at the parchment in Cregan's hands, and hot tears watered his eyes, streaming down his sharp face until two small rivers crossed their path on his chin. The young lord watched helplessly as the Prince of Dragonstone staggered backwards, clutching his chest in a tight fist as if trying to hold it together; it was a sight familiar to Cregan, for he had also lost his younger brother and remembered the same sense of helplessness creeping through his veins. 

But as Jacaerys collapsed in grief, a new weight hit Cregan's chest, a sense of dread blossoming in the centre of his stomach as he steeled himself for what was to come. 

He would have to inform you and to bring the news of Lucery’s death. And it wouldn’t be easy.

The bright orange sun hid behind the imposing mountains of the North, its last rays illuminating the tops of the peaks and tinting the snow a soft pink. As the light faded, a few amber rays filtered through the windows of your chambers, illuminating them with a soft glow - the gentle warmth of the sun blending with the heat of the great fire in the centre of the room, accompanied by the soft crackle of the wood.

You sat quietly at the foot of your bed, embroidery hoop in hand, watching your son Rickon play with his wooden toys beside you. A few handmaids moved about your chambers, preparing the large table for the dinner you and Cregan would share that evening. Your lilac eyes rested on the small figure of your son, who returned them with a broad smile. But as you raised a hand and gently rubbed his swollen cheeks, you were seized by a sense of unease. 

It had been a long time since you and Cregan had been married, and from the first night you spent in Winterfell your mind had been haunted by dark omens hovering over your family name. Glimpses of what had happened in the past and what would happen in the future passed before your eyes like dancing shadows, sometimes appearing even when you were fully awake. You could still hear cries for help filling your ears, dragons fighting in the sky with claws and breath of fire, and sinister whispers plotting an overthrow of power, the image of your father's bloody crown on the throne still vivid in your mind. 

The people of Winterfell had always regarded you with suspicion, for you were far from the Targaryen princess they had always imagined. But Cregan had never dared to question your tastes, however strange they might sound, and whenever the duties of lordship allowed him a moment's respite, he would gladly accompany you to the far reaches of the North and catch whatever bugs you wanted. In winter, when the temperatures were too harsh and the bugs were nowhere to be found, he would wrap his great arms around your form and listen to your strange rhymes as he gazed into the fire. 

Your prophetic dreams ceased after you gave birth to Rickon, but they returned when a raven came from Dragonstone with grim news: the death of your father the King, the usurpation of your sister's claim by the Hightowers, and the loss of Rhaenyra's only daughter. Fear settled in your heart as you remembered the figure of the young dragon swallowed by the waves of the ocean, and you wondered if even innocent children would fall victim to this dangerous game of power. 

The doors of your chambers swung open and Cregan appeared. The handmaids greeted him with a nod of respect, and you gave him a small smile as you watched Rickon rise and reach his father, who scooped him up with his free hand and kissed his little forehead.

But it was when he looked at you that you realised something was wrong. His eyes, softened by the sight of you, held a pain that seemed to be fighting him. It was as if he were carrying a burden too heavy for him to bear, heavier even than his duties as Lord of Winterfell, and the sight surprised you: you had never seen Cregan so troubled by anything.

"Leave us alone," your husband's voice echoed in the room, once again wearing his mask of severity, "I need to have a few words with my wife in private,” 

The handmaids bowed their heads and quickly left the room, one of them holding Rickon in her arms. There was an unspoken tension in the air as Cregan cautiously approached you and sat in front of you. He had always been an attentive and protective husband, showing a side that differed from the stern image he gave his men.

“You seem quite troubled, husband,” you spoke softly, your voice faltering slightly. Cregan replied with a heavy sigh, covering your hands with his larger ones and rubbing them with his calloused thumbs.

“Dreadful news came from Dragonstone, my love,” Cregan said in a hoarse voice, choosing his words carefully, as if talking to a wounded puppy, “Your sister, the Queen, lost a child again,”

You felt the ground beneath your feet, surroundings had become as muffled as your husband's voice as he recited the contents of the parchment:

"Prince Lucerys Velaryon has met his death at Storm's End, slain by Prince Aemond Targaryen.”

Feeling like you were about to pass out, you rolled over onto your side and gripped the wooden footboard in a tight vice. You immediately covered your mouth and looked down at your feet as your mind slowly processed the news, but the shock was so strong that no tears came. Your mind raced back to the dream you'd had weeks before Jacaerys' arrival, seeing pieces of a puzzle you couldn't quite understand until now: Lucerys was the dragon that fell from the sky, and Aemond was the other one who sank his jaws into his flesh.

You felt Cregan's worried gaze on you as one of his hands moved to your arm, rubbing it gently in a soothing way. “It pains me to see you so devastated, my sweet wife,” he spoke quietly, breaking the wall of silence between you, “but you must know that House Stark will stand against-“

“I need a moment, please,” your trembling voice interrupted him as you found the strength to stand at your feet, your thick robes swooning with every step you took in the room. You paced back and forth, one hand rubbing the bridge of your nose while the other supported your lower back, grief and confusion mixing in your head as you felt like you were about to succumb to madness: for a moment you wondered if Rickon would fall victim to the Dance as well, but no bad omen was attached to him and that brought you a moment of peace.

Your restless walk ended as you approached the large window of your chambers and saw Vermax flying restlessly outside. It pained you to see such a magnificent creature as a dragon so distraught over the loss of his kin, and it pained you even more when a flash of his fate crossed your eyes as you saw the dragon dancing among hundreds of arrows.

“It is said that dragons can feel their masters’ emotions,” a rough voice came from behind, and you saw Cregan looking outside like you, “They feel their pain, their turmoil, and they share the same grief.” 

“He is preparing for his last flight,” you murmured quietly, turning your head slightly and locking your lilac gaze into his grey one. You felt Cregan’s hand resting on your waist, allowing him to pull you closer and join your foreheads together. 

"Winter is coming, my love, and I need my men here to defend the Wall," he spoke softly, closing his eyes for a moment as he felt the warmth of your skin against his, "but House Stark will pledge its support to Queen Rhaenyra by sending her thousands of Greybeards to fight in her name. Your sister's claim will be upheld and your nephew will succeed her," 

"Jacaerys will never be King of the Seven Kingdoms," you confessed defeatedly, looking down at your feet, "the only kingdom he will see is of sea and salt. He will never see his mother sitting on the Iron Throne. I have seen it,"

Your words brought a heavy silence to the room and you both withdrew into your thoughts. You saw how quickly Cregan and Jacaerys had bonded, how they spent their days hunting and drinking together while they negotiated the terms of war. Luke's death would not be an accident, and you hoped your words would reach your husband, that he would understand the destructive force dragons could be once they went into battle.

Instead, Cregan's only words were his arms wrapped around you, sealing your body in a protective embrace. He whispered words of comfort, kissed your temple and promised victory over the usurpers.

But deep in his heart, he knew it would not be easy.

Grief and anger were the emotions Cregan felt as he rolled the parchment in his hands, his eyes darting over the words written in pitch-black ink. He cursed himself for not believing the signs of your dreams, for thinking that fear had created them for you. But even this time you were right.

The Battle of the Gullet had been costly for the Blacks, and the death of Jacaerys Velaryon was a low blow the queen would not forgive her usurpers. It was Cregan again who had the task of bringing you the unfortunate news, and his eyes would forever be haunted by the sight of your grief: he saw you holding Rickon as the news of blood and cheese reached Winterfell's ears, and those same dull eyes came back to you as you leaned against the wall at your nephew's death.

Not even the news that King's Landing had fallen into the hands of Rhaenyra and Daemon could ease the paranoia you lived with, but it only served to fuel your dark prophecies. Few letters were exchanged between Cregan and Rhaenyra, with the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms constantly asking for her beloved sister and inviting her to return to court and serve if she wished. But Cregan always refused her invitation. 

For the truth was that you were safe in the great lands of the North, surrounded by nothing but the love of Cregan and Rickon, far from that viper's nest that was the Red Keep. It took time for you to adjust to the harsh cold of Winterfell and the coldness of its people, but your calm and gentle nature opened a breach in the heart of his hardened lord, and with it, the people began to love you. 

The night was cold, and the heat of the fire was not enough to protect them from the blizzard raging outside. Cregan could not sleep, tossing and turning, hoping that the Old Gods would grant him some much needed rest. It was only after tossing and turning on his side for the umpteenth time that he saw you awake too, your platinum curls falling gently to your shoulders and your lilac eyes gazing absently at the small bed where Rickon rested. 

The young wolf wrapped his naked arms around your waist and pulled you close, his chest pressed against your back, the layer of your nightgown the only thing separating your bodies. "Sleep seems to have left you too," he said in a harsh voice, his lips brushing against your neck. You closed your eyes and let out a shuddering breath. 

"I have no reason to be asleep, dear husband," you replied absently, the softness of your voice melting his heart. Cregan knew that your mind was far from him, and he feared that your prophetic dreams had imprisoned it again. He let out a long sigh before speaking again.

"A raven came from King's Landing in the morrow," he spoke quietly, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Rickon, "your sister will be pleased to welcome you to the capital and give you all the honours of a Targaryen princess,”

He felt a small chuckle escape your mouth and lowered his head, resting his newly bearded chin on your collarbone, "If it is your wish to reach her, I will order some of my men to arrange a safe journey south for you." Cregan went on, his voice faltering at the thought of leaving you alone while Rhaenyra dealt with her opponents. But you were his wife and the light of his eyes, and if you wished to regain your lost time with your sister, he would accept it without objection.

But the slight shake of your head surprised him, "It wouldn't change anything. Rhaenyra would be dead the moment I reached King's Landing, and the gods know what horrors await there.”

Cregan's brow furrowed, and for the first time he seriously considered the words of your prophetic dreams: if the Dragon Queen was indeed about to die, what would happen if he left his wife alone in the grasp of the Greens? A shiver ran down his spine, anger boiling in his chest at the thought of you being taken prisoner by Aegon the Usurper. 

"That will probably not happen," the Lord of Winterfell scoffed, tightening his grip as if he secretly feared you would disappear in his arms, "You have nothing to fear, my dear woman. Your sister is Queen now. Once the usurpers and the breakers of the oath have paid for what they have done, there will be a reign of peace and prosperity. 

"It will not be her," you murmured, rolling to the other side to face Cregan. You leaned your hand against his cheek as you looked at him with your melancholy eyes, "Rhaenyra is the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but a crown of ashes will adorn her head and a cloak of fire will wrap her body.”

Cregan leaned into your touch, but he could not quite relax at the grim revelation you gave him: he wanted to find comfort in your presence, but your words were as hard as boulders, carrying a heavy weight he wanted to lift from your shoulders.

"I can hardly see it," he murmured, his voice tinged with doubt, "Rhaenyra is a strong woman, gathering as many noble men as she can for her cause. The kingdom will be stable under her leadership."

You shook your head slowly again, your eyes filled with sorrow, "But the Dragonfire is stronger than she is, and what she has built will crumble with her," you paused for a moment before continuing, "A throne of iron swords will give way to a wooden one, and only when the cripple breathes his last will a child step in, wearing Rhaenyra's crown like a burden.”

Cregan closed his eyes and tightened his grip, a mixture of emotions flickering across his face as he slowly digested what you had told him. He had learned over time that your dreams were not mere hallucinations of a daydreaming mind, but a prophecy destined to come true, no matter how hard you tried to alter the course of events. The deaths of Jacaerys and Lucerys were living proof. 

“I swear on my honour that I will keep raising my banners for the rightful queen, no matter how gruesome our fates will be,” Cregan retorted, lowering his head more until your foreheads met again, “What will be of us?”

"You are bound by your honour and will fight for Rhaenyra until your last breath, my love," you murmured, absently tracing circles on his cheek with your thumbs, "The wolf will cry in the dragon's nest, and his wolf will be heard in the darkest hour. And only when order is restored will the wolf return to his pack."

Cregan stood in silence, his chest rising slowly as he held his breath, the realisation dawned on him: the intense activity on the Wall and the organisation of the harvest had always prevented him and his men from making a proper march on King's Landing, hoping that the Greybeards he had sent would be enough to fight for Rhaenyra's cause. But your words have confirmed that his men will march on King's Landing, and he hopes to find a less devastated city than the one his wife has described.

“Cregan,” your gentle call awakened him from his thoughts, his head resting on your hands, “promise me you will come back to me and Rickon. Swear it,”

The young wolf stood silent for a moment, his eyes drinking in your beauty: it would be painful to leave you behind, but if your prophecy came true, he would be forced to honour his oath and fight for his queen. And so he took your head in his hands, closing the distance and sealing the promise with a long, bittersweet kiss, tasting of farewell but full of hope.

“I swear it.”

If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading my fic! Hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave a comment if you want to be added in the taglist or be removed.

Cregan Stark Taglist: @sylasthegrim @legitalicat @zaldritzosrose

[fanaticsnail]

Pretty Bird - Part 2

Masterlist here

Word count: 2,065 Part 1

Synopsis: you nursed back to health and injured raven that was found in the canopy of your cottage. The raven was a shifted Avariel fae, a creature of myth and legend, and the new lord of Kuraigana. He is extremely smitten with you, and doesn't know the adequate customs to court you. All he knows and feels is you are his mate, and he wants you.

Themes: fae!Mihawk x human!reader, raven!Mihawk x f!reader (can be read as gn, no gendered terms used).

Notes: prompts based on this ask by 🪶 Anon. Header picture made by me using OPLA's Yoru and doctored stock images. We're leaning in on a bit of hybrid au stuff. Mihawk is a winged, elf-like creature that can shift into a raven and human form - but he is most comfortable being a winged humanoid with dark feathers and talon-like fingernails.

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23 @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @nerium-lil

It wasn't quite the grandiose hallways and intricate ornamentation you had experienced once upon long ago. The high keep was, for all other words considered, gloomy. The light was dull, the curtains barely parted, and the lengthy leading carpet had begun to fray at the edges from ill-maintenance and neglect over the years.

The single room in the entire manor that caused your heart to flutter was the one you had reminisced with your pretty bird at your inherited cottage. The gallery was in full bloom, the curtains clipped and dusted with a place for everything, and everything in its place.

A large amassment of individuals were wandering and chattering within the halls, eyeglasses drawn up their faces and assessing the finery with criticism in their snarls. The group which were invited to the grand premier of the reopening were some that you had not seen prior, and many local dignitaries you had dealings with in your cottage.

You assumed you were here as a civilian observer, like some of the others, to give the new lord of Kuraigana a reputation of hospitality and humility. Truth be told, you did not care you were to be used as a ruse. All that seemed to matter was finding that one painting you recounted from the days of your youth.

Spotting a long since forgotten painting of your childhood, you felt the wonderment warm and swell in your chest as soon as you laid eyes on it. Your land, your hometown, a field of wildflowers shrouding your familial home with two figures sitting on a hanging swing off on a hollowed willow tree. The figure on the swing was looking up, just as a winged creature with a humanoid face was smiling down.

This was the picture you imagined when you spoke with the wounded raven in your cottage. There was something in the way the two subjects looked at each other, their hearts swelling in their eyes, as joy was depicted on their lips. Two creatures from different worlds just as captivated with the other as the other was with them.

As you leaned in closer to the image, you felt a presence behind you with their dark shadow cascading your form with their silhouette.

“Do you enjoy this one, then?” their vocal cadence was difficult to read, but their presence felt intimidating. You turned to face the figure, and curtseyed low to them with your eyes fallen to the ground.

“This painting holds meaning for me, yes, sir,” you rise from your curtsey, keeping your gaze held firmly to their dark, leather boots as you rose back to full stature. They stepped forward in a single stride, puncturing your border of personal comfort and towering over you.

“Can you explain it to me, so as to grant me a greater understanding of such a piece?” their voice purred down at you. The scent of their cologne felt familiar to you, as did the subtle pattern in their flowing cloak over their shoulders.

Softly floating your gaze to their features, you hovered over their unique, angular facial hair and bit back your nerves.

“The prior lord of this house was known for his admiration and appreciation for the fae-folk,” you spoke, attempting to maintain your calm demeanor while feeling intimidated by the man towering over you, “Many seem to enjoy the fables and tales of old. Hearing the joy of a world far from our own, whether written on written paper or depicted on canvas, is an accessible binding that draws people of all creed and color together.”

You float your eyes up to meet his, the amber hue of his gaze piercing you like a blade and seeming to goad you into speaking more on the subject.

“And the fae?” his challenging tone almost made you recoil, but you held your ground and attempted to avoid his gaze as he spoke down his nose at you, “Do they not frighten you?”

“Truth be told, sir,” you quickly bobbed a polite curtsey as you continued, “I feel I do not have enough experience on the matter to fear them.” You turn back to the painting, focussing on the gaze of the young Avariel beaming down at their human counterpart on the swing, “I appreciate them from afar, but I am yet to truly meet one.” The man hums in deep thought, slowly turning their own attention back to the painting while sitting in silence beside you.

After several moments of studying the painting, you turn to your guest and curtsey once more to the individual with a shy smile tugging at your lips.

“I fear it's getting rather late for me, sir. I best be getting home and tending to my homestead,” you nod to the sun beginning to fall behind the swirling landscape of curling mountains, “It is a lengthy trek home.”

“You arrived here on foot?” his voice seemed to be taken aback, “Do you not have horses, or some mule to pull a carriage? A cart with two goats, a saddle for a swine-?” You broke his train of thought with a soft, melodical giggle. He halted his words, listening to your laugh and slowly offering his own alongside it.

“Forgive me, sir,” you stifle your soft laugh, slowly biting back any further humor in your tone, “Some of us more common people can not afford the luxury to own such things. This is the furthest I've ventured of late, and I do wish to make it back before nightfall.”

Before you had the opportunity to flee from his sights, he swooped down and claimed your arm in the crook of his left elbow and held you there while slowly whispering down at you.

“You will allow me to escort you from the gallery and towards the door,” he was firm in his tone, but his poised elegance seemed to put you at ease. As he began to take a step to walk with you, he froze in place as you spoke to him.

“I feel like there should be a ‘please’ in there somewhere,” you offer him a nervous giggle and gently nod your head to him, “I don't think you have a right to lord over me like some cruel tyrant, sir…?” you trailed off, attempting to meet his gaze.

He looked at you from the corner of his eye, a look that seemed somewhat familiar to you, but foreign atop his features. His amber eyes seemed to hold a challenge within them as the corner of his lip ticked up.

“Lord Dracule Mihawk,” he offered you freely, raising his right hand to circle over your knuckles clasping his left elbow, “And, would you please allow me to escort you from the gallery towards the door?”

Something between a squeak and a gasp caught itself within your throat as you failed to find the words to respond to him with. The man at your side was the mysterious host you were curious about, and you had been conversing with him so openly you didn't spare a thought as to whom he was.

As he lead you silently through the quiet halls towards the door, he gently coaxed you through the threshold and gracefully spun you to face him within the archway. He stooped down towards you, and gently reached up to preen at a fallen strand of your hair to tuck it behind your ear.

“Should you need to borrow a horse, I would gladly provide you with one from my stables,” he uttered, gently caressing the crown of your head and scanning over your features without meeting your eyes. “I have a few to choose from, alongside a personal carriage or cart should you ever need one.” He finally met your eyes, looking down at you as your gaze was intense with eyes wide and in shock.

The lord of Kuraigana was shuffling your hair with such familiarity, it immediately drew up and rose every alarm in your mind. Why was he doing this? What motivation would he have to press his hands into you, and toy with you in such a way? You were a commoner amongst a den of lords and ladies, why you?

“I have no formal training in cart rearing, my lord,” you nodded your head to bob your hair from his clutches, “Nor do I desire to have you part with a horse on my behalf.” Stepping away, his hand hovers where contact was priorly met against your skin and hair. “Thank you for your hospitality, this is where I take my leave from you, my lord.”

Bowing in a low curtsey, you chose to walk from him without waiting a further dismissal from him due to the fluster his intimidating aura rose to you. As soon as you were out of sight, you breathed out a sigh of relief and gazed up into the first light of purple stars greeting the pastel purples and pinks over Kuraigana.

“I am such a fool.”

Both yours and Mihawk’s lips shared the same sentiment, feeling truly imbicilic in the interaction you had with one another not moments ago. For you, your embarrassment came from speaking so freely about childhood fantasies to the man who lords over you. For Mihawk, it was another aspect entirely.

“My mate hates me,” he whispered to the walls of his keep, “My mate fears me and recoils from my touch.” He gazed down at his hands, witnessing the first release of talons protruding from his fingertips in response to holding a human-passing form for so long.

As soon as he left your cottage once he was healed, he was attempting to find a way to welcome you into his home. While he understood that humans have kindness for one another in times of need, and compassion for injured animals, at the first offence of aid from you in his raven form, he knew it was you. You were his, and he was yours.

He needed you, craved you to know how desperately he wanted you in his high keep. The understanding on the intricacies of human clourtships was sadly lacking in his regard, but he knew he needed to try to win you over.

If you were an avarial, a changeling, or a shifter of the fae folk like he was, he knew he could express his desires and make his wanting known by preening and grooming you. He would nest for you, fill it with your scent matched with his, and welcome you into it while nestled against one another. Should he wish to make the match permanent, which he considered the notion the moment you began to converse with him as a man, he would dance for you to showcase his skills as a reveered fighter and exceptional provider.

Witnessing the fluster on your face at the moment he attempted to groom you left him feeling deflated and dejected. The rejection of his mate, the one he sorely wanted for himself, had him frustrated and desiring to know if you truly were rejecting him, or if this was an action lost in the courtship discorse of fae folk and humans.

He would never be able to get close to you as the lord of Kuraigana, your lord and ruler over your land. He would absolutely not desire for you to see him in his radiant glory, as half-shifted into his more comfortable form as a winged humanoid. He was assured you would turn from him in fear.

But as a raven? You liked him as a raven. You praised him as a raven. You scratched his chin, offered him meat, and spoke to him as a raven. He could listen to you as a raven. As your raven: your pretty bird.

Giving his shoulders a gentle shimmy, his cloak sprung to life and revealed his darkened wings as his form began to shrink into his smaller avarian form. The golden hue of his watchful eyes remained as intense as they searched for you on the pathway leading to your cottage.

He needed to know. Were you interested in such a courtship with a beast like him, or were you simply one of the kinder varieties of mortals? He shook his wings to take flight, his intense gaze was fixed on your form as the soft sunset became a gentle dusk and faded into a blue, cloudless night.

[little-diable]

Kinktober 7 - Halbrand

Finally time for the next Kinktober drabble! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

🖤Use of Higher Powers🖤

Warnings: 18+, smut, use of his powers to get the reader off, lots of tension

Pairing: Halbrand x fem!reader (1k words)

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Header by the best @theanythingbuthuman

Rain was pouring from the sky, clinging to her frame as she walked towards the gate with quick steps. She had only spotted his frame a few moments ago, forcing her heart to skip a beat or two before rushing outside.

It had been too long since she had last seen him, not understanding why Galadriel had cast him out before (y/n) had then followed her master Celebrimbor to another workshop. But ever since that day her heart had ached for Halbrand‘s closeness - the man she had found herself longing for, missing the way his eyes had lingered on her frame for a few beats too long whenever they were standing close.

“(Y/n)!“ Halbrand‘s familiar voice dripped with surprise as she approached him, flinging herself into his arms before she could even begin to understand what she was doing. Not once had he touched her, they hadn’t even shared a hug before, and yet she couldn’t endure staying away from him any longer.

“What are you doing out here in the rain?“ He kept his hand placed on her lower back, familiar eyes wandering over her smiling features as she spoke. His thumb stroked along the fabric of her dress, shooting heat down her spine like lightning hitting her body.

“I fear master Celebrimbor isn‘t in a welcoming mood tonight.“ There was something close to sadness swimming in his pupils, a sadness that tugged on the strings of her heart as if her own body was held hostage by the piercing sensation.

“Come, I’ll bring you to him tomorrow, for tonight you may stay at my quarters and warm yourself.“ With her hand finding his calloused one, she began to pull him along, hurrying through the rain while trying to silence her racing thoughts. For months she had dreamt of something like this, a chance to be close to the handsome man without any disturbance, any distracting workers that reminded them of their tasks.

“You’ve always been a kind soul, have you not? I found myself drawn to that warm heart of yours since I first saw you hiding away in the shadows of that workshop.” Warmth coated her skin, forcing her breath to hitch in her chest. (Y/n)’s eyes wandered down his frame, hugged by the silence lingering in her barely alight chambers, focusing on the wounds littering his body, shining through his dirty covering.

“You’re hurt. Let me tend to your wounds.” She didn’t give him a chance to reply, leading Halbrand towards a chair before collecting what she needed. With her back turned towards him, she combed through her drawers, freezing in her search as something began to crawl up her spine - or at least something that felt like it moved. Her heart’s beat grew faster, focusing on the sensation that found her throat, lingering on it for a second before her lips began to tingle from its invisible touch.

“I’ve wondered if you feel the same draw between us, the fire no rain nor ice may dare to put out. Flames that have burned through my soul while I was forced to be away from you. I’ve dreamt of your closeness, (y/n). Tell me you’ve felt the same burning desire that stole your last sane thought.” The sensation stroked along her lips again before moving back down her throat to rest near the cleavage of her dress.

“I have, my lord.” Her voice trembled, hands dropping whatever she had tried to reach for. Only slowly did she turn towards Halbrand - who was still sitting on the chair, eyes not straying from her frame once. (Y/n)’s mind was too foggy to overthink whatever power he seemed to wield, proving to her that he was no mere mortal but a being she had every right to long for - at least that’s what it felt like at that given moment.

A gasp clawed through (y/n) the second the sensation wandered over her cleavage and down her stomach before it began to rest between her thighs. Her hands shot out to stabilise her frame, clinging to the edge of the cupboard pressing against her back, all while a smirk widened on Halbrand’s lips.

“Trust me, love, give yourself to me and let me guide you. Let me form you into the truest form of yourself while your body follows my call, be my perfect creation.” The words were too sweet, too false to let any truth cling to them, but she didn’t care, especially not as the sensation began to put pressure on her bundle of nerves. A moan clawed through (y/n), eyes fluttering close for a second while her knuckles grew a few shades lighter. “Keep your eyes on me.”

The command was spoken with more force, making her eyes shoot open to get lost in his intense gaze. Goosebumps covered her trembling body, focused on the feeling of her orgasm creeping closer. The sensation moved quicker, with more pressure to make her see stars brighter than they had ever been before, resting on Eregion’s sky.

Another moan clawed through her, followed by a proud chuckle breaking through Halbrand. The feeling of his eyes on her, watching her so close to falling apart, made her body feel as if it was on fire. Tears were about to blur her view, tears of desperation that were spurred on by the intensity of the invisible touch.

And then she came with a gasp of his name, allowing her eyes to flutter shut. A single tear made its way down her cheek, dripping off her chin the second she felt him moving, chest pressed against hers. Halbrand’s hand found her cheek, forcing (y/n) to look up at him before he pressed his lips against hers, kissing her roughly.

Moments blurred by, letting the kiss grow more hungry before they were interrupted by the sound of impatient knocking. Halbrand watched her move towards the door, staring at Celebrimbor whose eyes wandered from hers to Halbrand. “I told you to keep away from him, you swore to follow my orders, (y/n).”

“She’s more than capable of handling me.” Halbrand’s words filled the chambers, forcing her eyes back towards him as another smile began to widen on her lips. And deep down (y/n) knew that whatever may come upon them, she wouldn’t be able to part from him again.

[diamondoffaith]

EVER RED: THE THEORY (MASTERPOST)

This is a post compiling all the theories surrounding Ever Red from the Fragaria discord server

Last updated: Dec 2 2023

AMNESIA THEORY, THE TIMELINES

Fragaria's story is confirmed to be separated into two: The MVs and the voice dramas. This could imply two separate timelines. The 1st timeline is “ruined”, and the 2nd timeline (possibly the one for the MVs) acts as the present. In the Ever Red MV, there are lyrics highlighted in red, most of them pointing to them forgetting something.

This theory is unrelated from Ever Red, but the main point of the amnesia theory is that the knights don't remember their "original" selves, their current names and forms being a show of their connections to their lords (hence why Hangyon's name is only 2 letters off from Hangyodon for example).

These lyrics also point to something being forgotten (strawberry/fruit representing memories. Sweet and sour memories, a memory that ripens/develos as it is repressed)

But forgetting their old identities also means forgetting past events.

RIBBONS

The ribbons represent the pains of the past. In this part, Hallritt sings "Once the ribbon is tied, the knot marks are still there." Once pain is inflicted, the wounds and memories are still there.

The ribbon now ties everyone close to each other. The Red Bouquet will be there for Hallritt to help process his past, and make things right again (see next header).

I just want you to laugh, that's all I wish for Even if our memories are mismatched

Hallritt is now being covered by the ribbon, except for his eyes. He must face the truth of what he did.

HIDDEN AUDIO, "ELDRITCH HALLRITT"

Refer to this post to listen to the hidden audio.  "Move. That dream… It was my fault." It was Hallritt's fault for the destruction of the 1st timeline. Around 3 minutes into the MV, there is a quick frame of this shadow version of Hallritt which me and the discord have named Eldritch Hallritt/Eldritt.

(isn't he so silly <3)

He was the "original" Hallritt from the 1st timeline, and a manifestation of the current Hallritt’s true feelings and repressed memories. He knows everything. He was the one who destroyed the 1st timeline, and is here to make sure the Hallritt of the current timeline doesn’t mess up.

But what was Hallritt's mistake in the first place?

SEEDS

SEEDS are the antagonists of Fragaria's story. They could be the original knights, as seeds come first before flowers/bouquets. One day, they took things too far, leading them to be banished and replaced by the Fragarians.

They might have once tricked Eldritt/The "original Hallritt" into joining them, which led to him ruining his contract with Hello Kitty, destroying the 1st timeline. Eldritt then reset the timeline into the current one, and is watching over the current Hallritt to not make the same mistake he did.

BONUS/MINI THEORIES

My friend Angel pointed out that "Fragaria Memories" sounds similar to "Fragmented Memories"

System Hallritt - Eldritt is an alter for Hallritt (+ is a protector or a gatekeeper) who wanted to prevent him from finding out the truth, but they can't run from it forever.

Bouquet leader doomed yaoi (I don't have a better name for this) - If Cielomort and Badobarm find out about Hallritt's secret, they could get angry and not trust him anymore. If this happens, the conflict could grow, repeating what happened in the 1st timeline that led to its destruction.

Hangyon and Chaco know - These two are suspicious. For Chaco, his title is "The detour dog with a hidden motive." The hidden motive could maybe have something to do with SEEDs. For Hangyon, if he knows what happened in the 1st timeline, that could be why he's close with Badobarm specifically. He watches him for any signs of the past repeating itself.

In a world that continues to change Only time will never come back Yet no one can take away our memories (EVER RED) I'll never forget them for eternity Living in memory No one can see it, but it'll never disappear Ever certain, ever red

[wildlupinewrites]

A Court, Regrown

Day 3 @tamlinweek : Polycules & Platonics

Pairing: Tamlin x Reader

Summary: Eris sends you to make a deal with the spring court and Tamlin walks away with a new best friend. AU-ish? Spring court manor is still ruined but Eris has taken over autumn court as the high lord.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/n: Hello everyone! This is my first real imagine for the fandom but this idea popped up and I had to write it. Hope you enjoy!

Thank you @olenvasynyt for the headers!

You stood at the entrance to the spring court manor. Or, rather, what was left of it. One of the large doors lay useless on the stairs, deep gouges left in the wood. The windows. Shattered. The gardens in tatters, and the smell was…well, Eris would owe you a great boon for all this. Since becoming High Lord, Eris was eager to make changes in the Autumn court, eager to do things differently than Beron. You had been half joking, suggesting that he experiment on the ruined manor but he had been taken with the idea, sending you here the next morning. You had tried to dissuade him, to tell him you were no courtier but he would hear nothing of it–you had to do this, apparently. And now the high lord was nowhere to be found. 

The snap of a twig made you freeze a prickling awareness settling over you. You were being watched. 

You turned slowly, eyes moving away from the dilapidated manor to the overgrown forest, a pair of green eyes finding yours. But they were much, much too high up. The creature stepped forward, all tangled, tawny fur and sharp teeth. I suppose that explained the smell, you thought. The beast said nothing, though you would bet a hefty sum he could speak. You rightened your expression, lips pulling up into a smile as you looked at him. 

“Good morning, high lord.” The greeting was met with silence, his large eyes taking in your cloak, the autumn court sigil. 

“As I’m sure you’ve heard, Eris is the new High Lord of Autumn,” you continued, feigning calm, “He sent me to speak to you. He has a deal in mind that would benefit both courts.” 

You hoisted the large picnic basket into view, full of the best food the kitchen could part with, “I thought we could have lunch?” If the offer of help wouldn’t budge the stubborn male, perhaps a proper meal would. 

He eyed you a long moment, the subtle movement of his nose nearly invisible. 

“What does he want.” his voice was rough from disuse, the warning of a predator more than anything. 

“I can certainly explain over breakfast,” you countered, half turning toward the manor, an almost inexplicable curiosity rising up–how would he react? 

The prospect of food seemed to outweigh his concern for he growled, “This way,” before turning into the forest. You hesitated only a moment before following behind, trailing his bear-life form to a small meadow, the buttery sunlight nearly blinding. He sat in the center, his beast form shrinking and changing until it left only…him. He watched as you approached, his expression defiant, expecting scorn. 

Instead, you kneel in the grass, beginning to unpack the meats, cheeses, and bread, his shadow looming over you a moment before he follows suit. 

“What is this?” 

“Breakfast,” his answering growl was met with your own chuckle, “Are you always…so?” 

“So cautious? The autumn court is full of serpents. I would be a fool not to be.” 

“There are no snakes in the autumn court,” You held out a plate, heavy with food, “It’s too cold.” 

His answering look was less than amused. 

You ate in silence, the high lord seemingly torn between propriety and hunger, his face bowed low over his plate. It was clear to see he was handsome, though the extent was hidden under his thick beard and tangled hair. He looked up suddenly and immediately straightened, shadow moving like rain clouds over his face. 

“Enough stalling. What-” 

“You could say ‘thank you’,” you interjected, the male breathing sharply through his nose. 

“State your purpose. That will determine my gratitude.” 

You debated saying nothing, wondering how long it would take for his patience to burn away, “Eris would like to help you rebuild the spring court.” 

You watched something painful pass over his face before falling away, leaving only anger behind, rising to his feet. 

“I have no cause to be in the autumn court’s debt.” 

You watched him go, your voice rising as the distance grew between you,“It would benefit both courts–not just spring.” 

He paused, his broad shoulders stiff. 

“Eris wants to bring some of the human innovations to the autumn court cities but they need somewhere to practice.” You winced as the words left you, realizing how it would sound. 

“He wishes to play in my court? To test these ‘innovations’ in my land?” 

“It’s an offer,” you said slowly, eyes focused on his profile, “Allow our builders to prepare for the autumn court here and they’ll be at your disposal.” 

He opened his mouth, no doubt to protest and you added, “It’s no charity, you would pay for supplies and labor.” 

His mouth closed, his position at the treeline casting him in shadow. 

“What do you have to lose?”

You stood at the entrance to the spring court manor, pulling open the heavy door, the polished floors gleaming with afternoon sun from the windows. Three months had passed since the day you convinced Tamlin to accept the autumn court builders. The beginning had been hard, constantly battling Tamlin’s pride and stubbornness, his instinct to fight you at every turn. But, that all changed two months ago. 

You climbed the stairs to Tamlin’s office, learning his habits well over the weeks. You had overseen the project, traveling to the spring court every other day to check on the workers and cajole Tamlin into letting them work.  Sure enough, he was hovering at the window, looking into the distance where the builders worked, Biscuit dozing happily on his shoulders. He was clearly handsome now, his hair tied back at his nape and no beard to be found. 

“Do you think they’ll disappear if you look away?” His shoulders stiffened in the way they always did when embarrassed. 

“We were just watching the sunset,” he said, pulling the kitten into his arms. 

“Sure.” You moved forward, reaching up to scratch the fluffy orange cat on the chin. 

You had found Biscuit in the autumn court wood when he was barely more than a handspan large. Taking him the same afternoon to meet Tamlin. As expected, Tamlin’s irritation turned to begrudging acceptance before they were inseparable, the small cat often riding around on his shoulders as he worked in his office. 

“Are you sick of him yet?” It had been a running joke between you, echoing his initial reaction when the little puff ball had been placed in his arms, “I can take him off your hands.”

He frowned, though his eyes were smiling. 

“He was a gift. It’s bad form to return such a thing.” 

Your eyes met the ceiling as he held the cat close, turning toward you at the doorway.  

“Join us for dinner?” 

“Always.”

[shyfurby]

Metyr, The Gloam-Eyed Queen, and The Nox

Lore, item, and speculation analysis. Looking at coincidences and theories a bit closer below the cut.

This is a little more disjointed than my last analysis.

@dykeishheart Replied to your post: I would be curious to know if you think anything in particular about the finger ruins of Rhia and Dheo being shaped just like the godslayer incantation insignia. I haven't seen any people mention it before but I was almost wondering if it's a false thread, like maybe it isn't meant to look like that intentionally bc nothing in Ymir/Metyr quest uses or mentions black flame or the gloam-eyed queen. Unless we interpret Metyr's pink gazing eye as 'gloam' (twilight)

I got this reply and said "yeah, I'll finally get into this!" So thank you!!

I've mentioned vaguely having thoughts on The GEQ/Metyr connections as well as Metyr's connection to the Nox but never got into any of it concretely. I know this specific reply isn't saying Metyr and the GEQ are connected beyond this but I've seen it A LOT and I've wanted to talk about it so it's a good excuse!

You can scroll down to my "Actual Interpretation" header if you want to skip over other's theories and a brief GEQ summary

I want to start by giving an overview on the points I've seen floating around that bring up visual similarities between Metyr and the GEQ so we have a basis for this.

The pattern on Metyr's face, the fingerprint, is similar to both the shape of the godslayer incantations as well as, as user dykeishheart pointed out, the above ground finger ruins

Metyr's tail fingers are in a twist, similar to the helix on the godslayer greatsword.

The godslayer greatsword has a swirling, fingerprint-like pattern on the beginning of the blade before it breaks into a twist

The dominula cape has similar patterns to the incantation as well as the finger sorcery symbols

Jolan and Anna's armor of night, has another similar fingerprint/godslayer-like symbol on the front

My hesitancy with addressing this in detail is that I don't want people to think I'm telling them they're wrong or coming off as argumentative. This is simply my take on the theory. But we're no strangers to characters being associated with the GEQ

So without further adieu, with the points I'll be contesting laid out, here are my thoughts on why Metyr is not connected to the GEQ.

GEQ basics:

We know the GEQ had her own two fingers, was an Empyrean, and was a direct timeline competition to Marika. It seems that, to the Greater Will, they were both potential candidates vying for Elden Lord, each trying to unite the lands between, and possibly the land of shadow, to the GWs plan. It is unclear if at this time the fingers were already unsound and giving baseless messages. I personally do not believe so as these were likely the first sets of two fingers to be bestowed upon Empyreans and still in their early history. It would also make sense that the GW would want false or unfit gods killed off before it's new plan is enacted.

The GEQ controlled destined death, a key aspect of the Elden Ring and one that would be incredibly dangerous for Marika who sought godhood. Thus she and Malekith went to war against her and her Godskins

She raised her godksin from birth, turning the dead flesh of unnamed, and unimportant gods into her children- via the godskin swaddling cloth, also directly connecting her to motherhood.

The meaning of Gloam is roughly synonymous with evening, dusk, twilight, and crepuscule, a time of day characterized by sunset- a blueish to orange/sometimes purple sky. We could also interpret this as "coming to an end" the setting of the sun, the absence of light, or gold. (making her a direct foil to Marika)

Her and her apostles are associated with Black, obsidian, and a deep purple gemstone

My first question about this theory is, what is the theory specifically? That Metyr IS the GEQ or that the GEQ was a follower/champion of Metyr/sanctioned by Metyr?

ON TO

MY ACTUAL INTERPRETATIONS:

My initial thought on the godslayer seal/symbol was always that of inverted fire. A fire devoid of warmth or life, the opposite of those wielded by others in Elden Ring. This is still my interpretation. The Stone set in the middle of the seal, to me, also do not seem intentional enough for me to connect it to Metyr. Had it been anything but black I would be more inclined to give this more weight. Metyr's eye is red/orangeish, bearing an odd crossed separation down its iris. I believe there are too many similar swirling, round patterns in other incantations for this to seem concretely intentional. The Frenzy Flame, Dragon communion, and others all have a swirling in the center. The other thing setting this symbol apart from a fingerprint is the symbols between each ring.

As far as the finger ruins shape, to me they almost feel like sites of large meteor crashes, further suggested by the falling star beast. And Metyr herself is a falling star. Their shape to me feels like a trail of something hitting the ground and settling. I believe it says the lampreys aren't from the land of shadow as well but I could be wrong. They feel very alien and touched by outer presence. I think their fingerprint line shape also feels like the ripples of something crashing there.

Metyr is also a shockingly developed god in comparison to the Elden Beast, so much so that I cannot see her being or sanctioning The GEQ. As I got into in my Ymir Analysis post, Metyr is given strong characterization and emotion. She is loyal and subservient to the GW to the end. Even when she is abandoned she remains true to the purpose it gave her, grieving her corrupt children, waiting, alone, and growing resentful- but only to the point of physical violence via her thrashing and wielding of her head as a weapon. Her built up anger, as her remembrance weapon states, manifests in crushing blows of her head as a weapon. Her utmost rage is literally her beating her head against the ground in frustration, to the detriment of those around her and likely herself. She is described as a kowtower to the GW and seemingly deals with far too much of her own grief, self doubt, and obligation to come up with her own agenda or enact another agenda herself/take any matters into her own hands to the extent of the GEQ. We have also seen the result of her direct connection with others via Ymir and seeing as this is the first/only time we see finger sorcery learned from her it's unlikely anyone else ever made contact to this extent. Her connection to the GEQ is that she birthed the fingers that told the GEQ what to do.

Perhaps, as many others, the GEQ was enamored by the teachings of her two fingers and took inspiration from its form. This wouldn't be uncommon. We see fingerprints in Frenzy flame items, Nox items, and the fingerprint shield- which is an item I would like to get into a lot more in a moment. But to connect her that closely to Metyr feels incredibly out of character for Metyr. Metyr is also largely connected to int builds and sorcery. Never Faith. Even the High Priest Hat boosts both Int and Arcane, not touching upon Faith. I also believe the lack of godskins in the land of shadow is incredibly telling. If the GEQ had connections to Metyr there would surely be something mentioning her blackflame or godskins in the DLC

Both are also associated with motherhood, but to the point that i think it's the opposite of something that connects them narratively. The GEQ has such a specific and unique way of creating her children/warriors, far too different from Metyr's

As far as the connection to her tail fingers goes, there are also countless other connections to helixes being associated with the divine, a main one being the hornsent. Her sword also doesn't have the classic spinal look down the center of the blade that both the Sacred relic sword and fingerslayer blade do.

In terms of connecting dominula to the godskin, that is entirely possible, but this just comes back to my feelings on the godslayer symbol. Connecting anything at all to the finger sorcery symbol would be baseless. This design takes far too much inspiration from the Carian and Raya Lucarian sigils to not be something Ymir created for his own sorceries, thus unique to the land of shadow and his studying of Metyr.

Metyr also seems far too connected to the stars for me to associate her with someone who's name means dusk- a time of day characterized by sunlight still being in the sky albeit fading. You really can't see stars during this time and certainly not enough for them to seem bright. She is far more associated with pure night than evening. Great segway.

The Nox and the Fingerprints and a Slayed God

Like I wanted GEQ lore in the dlc. I wanted to know more about her. But I truly think she's dead :(

I think sometimes we're just looking for GEQs so much that maybe we're overlooking some smaller revelations from the Metyr quest.

Specifically in regards to the Nox's reason for banishment and the fingerslayer blade.

Jolan and Anna are nox swordhands of Night. Their armor describes the swordhands as being born deep underground and their armor bears the fingerprint marking- actually described as a fingerprint in the description this time. But they don't wear this armor because they are in Metyr/Ymir's service. They arrived at the land of shadow wearing this armor that is designed to keep them in the dark and there were more than just two of them. We find the armor on a corpse in a body bag in bonny gaol, next to multiple other bodybags. But we can say for sure there were at least three swordhands here. And they must have had a purpose here for them to be the only Nox in the lands of shadow.

And this got me thinking. What other items specifically reference fingerprints and at first it just seems like frenzy items which seemed like a dead end. But there's one specific item that although related to frenzy, references a time before that- The fingerprint stone shield which is "part of the tomb of an ancient god---- the very seeds from which frenzy first started" So similar to Godwyn's death, a death created an unforeseen consequence, but who was this god? Who killed him? Well, aside from the GEQ, there is one other group of people known for knowing how to kill gods. The Nox. And they had a reason to do so. The Fingerslayer blade is born of a corpse and bears a similar helix and spinal design to the sacred relic sword, implying it is from the body of a god. The sword of a vassal/god that is capable of killing another. Perhaps this was the god the Nox killed in order to create the blade. Perhaps they did not kill this god themselves and merely robbed it's grave and defiled the body by rending the fingerslayer blade from it. The recurring fingerprint motif on the armor of the swordhands and on the tomb is an interesting connection. Regardless, the Nox did not want to be governed by the GW's influence, instead they followed the stars. They were the original GW haters and they wanted to kill one of its vassals and harm the GW. Which vassal did they intend to kill? Ranni uses it on her two fingers but perhaps it was made for Metyr, the source of the GW's messages that they hated so much. They were never able to use it. It's creation led them to be banished and stripped of the stars at the hands of the GW. Swordstress armor states, " Now they live under a false night sky, in eternal anticipation of their liege. Of the coming age of the stars. And their lord of night"

This would make sense as to why the swordhands are in the land of shadow. They were looking for Metyr. And it would also give us some food for thought on Jolan and Anna, Anna perhaps being the one who still believed in their original purpose and Jolan, having disagreed with her. Jolan instead believing she has found what the Nox were awaiting, the return of their stars and their lord of night. Her infatuation with stars, saying Ymir is her shining star, and doing as he asks without question, knowing he sees fate in the stars, heavily implies this is what she believes. Perhaps she too seeks redemption for what she's done as a swordhands, her weak heart leading her to forsake her original goal and seeking her fate in Ymir's stars.

Time to yap, because I understand I'm probably wrong about the ancient god connection bit:

Yapping: This ancient god to Nox connection is just theorizing. We could even theorize that the ancient god mentioned in the fingerprint shield is the GEQs grave and that maybe the Nox didn't kill this god and merely looted the grave, but the timeline on that might be odd. I can't say for sure. Further we can ask who's fingers were the three fingers, this ancient god's? GEQs? Or are they even fingers? Are they merely an apparition of something we will accept messages from? If Marika put the nomadic merchants in that hole in the ground it would also imply she put the tomb down there that held a dead god. A god she killed maybe? Really seems like that's where she puts shit she wants to forget about... The shunning grounds and all that.

Misc images that may be relevant!

[violetasteracademic]

Master list here if you'd like to read the entire fic Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow, or just enjoy this spicy scene that is perfect for this week's @elriel-month prompt! (there will be some spoilers and missing build up/context for the fic but live your life babes)

Thank you to @fauxdette a fellow Virgo who is unmatched at creating aesthetic vibes for graciously offering some guidance on how to make a stunning header!

If You Won't Touch Me

Chapter 4: Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow

Word Count: 3,625

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Orgasm control, orgasm edging, light bondage

Elain

Elain knew Azriel was watching her the entire way home. The winged hound trotted alongside her, and it only made her even angrier how positively precious it was. His tail wiggled as he walked, adorably over-sized eyes peering up at her every so often. Jagged little shadow teeth ready to snap at so much as a bug that dared to fly too close to her. She half wanted to pet him.

I’m not going to touch you, Elain. Not with my hands. Not with my mouth. Not with my tongue or my teeth. Not until you decide that I am the only one who will have the privilege of doing so.

She began to shiver again, and it had nothing to do with the cold. Azriel knew exactly what he was doing. How he affected her. He had to know she was bluffing about calling for Lucien… He had to know he was the only one she wanted. And still he refused her until she could admit it. Until she could promise he’d be the last male to ever touch her. Prick. What an absolute prick.

She’d almost told him that was already the plan, that she could never think twice about another male after him. But he decided to play games, and she didn’t want to let him win. To give him the satisfaction of knowing she came running after him, ready to offer whatever he asked for. Once again, she had exposed herself. Presented her body to him like a damn cake platter and he still turned away.

She almost went down that dark road again, nearly losing herself to the madness of questioning her own sanity when it came to Azriel, but… he had exposed himself tonight too, hadn’t he? Even if you are not my mate, Elain Archeron, somehow I am yours. She tilted her head up to the stars and took a deep breath. Reminding herself of the things he said, and how she felt the truth of them deep in her bones. It was real. It was always real.

She was here. In Velaris. Walking home under the starlight with Azriel’s shadowhound at her feet. She had very little doubt that Azriel himself was trailing nearby, keeping to the shadows.

He thought he was her mate, even if she was someone else’s. She didn’t care about any of that. The mating bond meant nothing to her, less than nothing. She didn’t need such a bond to know she could want him forever. But… it seemed to mean something to him. It seemed to mean a great deal to everyone except her. She had been Fae for well over a year now, but she still struggled to make sense of how archaic it all was. The human lands weren’t that much better in how they valued women. It was clear to her now that Grayson likely only wanted her for her dowry. But if she wanted to say no to him, she could have. He’d have had no grounds to go to war or kill over it. It was always her choice.

She made it back to the townhouse and saw Nuala and Cerridwen waiting quietly in the shadows. Azriel must have sent for them. They each gave a slight tilt of their heads in question. Elain only shook her head and extended her arms, letting them shadow-walk her into her room undetected. Rhys and Feyre were blessedly only here for one more night before they were to return to the river house and resume their High Lord and High Lady duties full time after a long Solstice break. Longer than usual, due to Feyre’s pregnancy.

“We’ll be here if you need us,” Nuala offered before giving her arms a gentle squeeze. Elain nodded graciously, but did not request that they stay. She needed to be alone.

Her skin was still flushed after she removed her coat. In fact, she was burning up. Gods, had she come down with a fever from walking around in the cold? She didn’t feel sick, just… hot. Hot all over. Rage and frustration and need sunk so deep beneath her skin she thought she might lose her mind.

I won’t touch you.

Fine. That was just fine. He wanted to play games? Maybe it was time for Azriel to learn what it felt like for her to take back control. To make him putty in her hands for once. She walked over to the window and pulled the curtains open. She could see where Azriel’s cluster of shadows hid in the dark corners of the garden. Watching. Listening. There was no doubt in her mind he was there. That he’d stay until he saw the lights go out, and a long while after that to make sure she was safe. She unlatched the window and pushed it open. The shadows perked up at the motion and began slithering up the walls.

He had no idea what he was in for.

She kept the dim faelights glowing and waited until she could sense the presence of Azriel and his shadows at the window. She twisted her hair around her wrist, pinning it atop her head to expose her neck. She slowly pulled her nightgown over her head and dropped it to the floor, leaving nothing but sheer underthings and her thigh high stockings behind. She went to unclasp her bra when she felt hands made of shadow wrap around her wrists.

Elain. She heard the shadows whisper into her mind. Azriel. Talking to her in the way only she could hear. Not the daemati powers that Feyre and Rhys shared with each other. But… something else.

What? She sent back, shrugging innocently as the shadows swarmed around her.

Is there a reason you flung your window open to the freezing cold and started undressing for all to see?

My room is feeling a little too warm. I needed fresh air. And not everyone can see me, Azriel. She reached for the back of her bra again. She wasn’t stopped this time. Only you.

In an instant, her window slid closed and the curtains drew shut. Azriel, or the outline of his form wreathed in shadow, kept to the corner of the room.

“What are you doing,” Azriel asked. No amusement in his voice.

She lost no confidence. He had already shown his hand, coming into her room in the blink of an eye just knowing she was undressing. He could have stayed at the apartment. Kept his shadows quiet in the garden. But he was here.

“You won’t touch me. So I have to take care of it myself.” She dropped her bra to the floor. Azriel’s shadows guttered. “Is there a problem? I don’t recall that being against your rules.” She slid her panties down to her ankles and gingerly stepped out of them. She had to stop herself from grinning as Azriel finally stepped out of the shadows, his hands white knuckled at his side.

She reached to start rolling down her stockings when shadows shot for her hands again.

“Wait,” Azriel whispered, his voice thick and dark. “Don’t take those off.”

She looked down at herself, stripped completely naked save for the stockings. Clarity set her skin on fire.

“You like the way these look, shadowsinger?” She asked sweetly.

Azriel didn’t speak. He only nodded.

“Very well, then.” Elain turned her back to him, taking a slow stride to the bed and swishing her hips more generously than was entirely necessary.

She crawled onto the bed, exposing her entire backside to him. She heard him mutter a low stream of curses and she bit her lip before propping herself up against the pillows and letting her legs fall open.

She was already slick between her thighs. The sheer sight of Azriel hardening through his pants and clenching his fists so hard he was shaking nearly sent her over the edge. She had spent her entire life being made to feel like the only thing about her that was worth anything was her beauty. But no one, no one had ever looked at her the way Azriel looked at her. From that very first moment, she felt as if he saw past her skin and into her soul. And while Lucien occasionally looked at her like he wanted her, falling prey to the call of the mating bond, Azriel looked at her like he would die if he couldn’t have her. It scared her, how mutual that feeling was. But it also made her brave.

“Where would you start, shadowsinger? If touching me wasn’t against your rules.” She smiled coyly.

Her smugness evaporated when Azriel sent out a wisp of shadow to clasp around her wrist. Her mouth fell open, and he guided her bound hand up to her lips, pushing her fingers inside.

“Suck,” Azriel ordered.

Elain gushed as she obeyed.

One point to Azriel. Oh gods. That fast, she was going to lose this game tonight.

Her chest was already heaving as he used his shadows to slide her wet fingers down to her peaked nipples.

“I’d start here,” Azriel said. Calm. He was too calm. And Elain was already writhing as she flicked her fingers over the sensitive spot Azriel had guided her to, drawing tight circles around her nipples until they were sharp as cut diamonds.

“You’re breaking the rules,” she panted, but there was very little fight in it.

His expression didn’t change at all as he led her fingers down her sternum, her stomach.

“Am I?” His eyes glittered, full of filthy menace as he said, “I believe I said I wouldn’t touch you with my hands, my mouth, tongue, or teeth.” That damn half grin began to grace his wicked lips. “I don’t recall saying anything about my shadows.”

Elain nearly arced clean off the bed as he sent another tendril out for her free hand and pinned it over her head. He slid the hand on her stomach a little farther down, but not far enough. Elain’s hips bucked, and she desperately tried to push through the shadows. To press her fingers exactly where she needed them.

“Is this okay?” He asked quietly, flicking his gaze to where he had her wrist pinned.

“Yes,” she whispered. She watched his cock almost rip the front seam of his pants when she said, “Harder.”

She loved the feeling of being restrained. Of him controlling every inch of her body. Her touch. It helped her to focus and simultaneously lose herself entirely. She didn’t want to be treated like a glass vase.

She had no idea how to express that a little pain sometimes felt so good, but she didn’t have to explain herself to Azriel. There was no judgment in his hungry gaze, only understanding. His eyes lit with unrestrained desire as the grip on her tightened, and her hips lifted in response. He dragged her fingers lower, right where she needed them. He only let her manage a few strokes before he pulled her hand away. Elain whined in frustration.

“Azriel,” she breathed. She tried to lower the hand he had pressed just above the apex of her thighs, but she couldn’t budge. “Please.”

He pushed himself off the wall and stalked to the edge of the bed.

“Please what?” Another tendril slid across her, this one pinning her hips down and stopping her writhing and thrusting. She tried to rub her thighs together, desperate for friction, only to feel her ankles yank apart. Her legs spread to each corner of the bed and held firm. Oh, she was gong to absolutely ruin him when she had the chance. He wasn’t the only one who had restraints at their disposal.

“Please, Azriel. I need to, I need…” she babbled, but couldn’t finish as more shadows swarmed, sliding over every inch of her. They ghosted over her nipples, swept along the curve of her nape. They slid into her hair and gave a sharp tug. Elain bit her lip to keep from crying out. “Please let me touch myself,” she begged.

“Can you be quiet?” Azriel’s eyes were roving over her. At the black threads keeping her restrained. It only made her wetter. His eyes glazed over as they traveled, drinking in the sight of her bare skin wreathed in his shadows. His gaze snagged at the swollen bud between her spread open legs. She was aching and throbbing and soaking the sheets. She couldn’t withstand it much longer.

“I’ll be quiet,” Elain nodded furiously.

As if he saw straight through the lie, he enveloped them in a brilliant cobalt shield. She felt the quiet settle over her, the blue glow casting her skin in a radiant hue and the world outside of their little bubble completely cut off. She loosed a sigh of relief.

Azriel got down on his knees at the edge of the bed, nostrils flaring as he came eye level with Elain’s slick and pulsing center. She pushed and pushed against her bonds, but he held her down tightly. Watching him drink in the sight and the scent of her only made her more needy. She was going to burst out of her skin.

He moved her fingers lower again, letting her just brush over her clit. So light and teasing she wanted to scream from the lack of friction.

“Please,” she cried. She was moments away from tears pricking her eyes, that’s how desperate she was for release.

“Since you asked so politely,” he slowly snaked a shadow clean up her center. She gasped as it continued a slow, torturous trail up her body. Over her breasts. Lightly gripping around her neck. With one final cool grin, Azriel released his hold on her. She didn’t even bother to consider what she looked like or if her body was displayed in a beautiful way as she plunged her fingers down between her thighs. She lost herself completely, riding harder than she ever had before and grabbing at her breasts with her free hand.

“Azriel,” she panted, too lost in the sensation to feel ashamed or embarrassed by him watching her. She dragged her fingers in and out, pressing her palm hard against her clit as she pumped. She had done this so many times. Had thought of no one but Azriel for over a year. But to feel the phantom touch of his shadows lingering on her skin, to breathe in his cedar and night chilled mist scent while she touched herself… it was beyond any fantasy she could have imagined.

She was close. She wasn’t sure how such a thing could be possible, but she felt as though she could have come just from the grip of Azriel’s shadows, the sight of him watching her, controlling where she could touch. She had never teased herself like that. Had never pushed herself to the limits of sanity, riding the edge of need and being denied what she wanted. She hated it. And she loved it. Her mouth fell open and she moaned, thrusting her hips harder into her hand. She cried out, panting as Azriel sent his shadows roving back over her, skating across every inch of her skin. Tracing the sensitive inside of her thigh, swirling around her nipples that were so hard now they could cut glass. They threaded through her hair, gently tugging at her scalp, and she shattered.

Stars blinked across her vision as her climax crashed over her in wave after wave. She kept riding, kept moving and losing herself to the feel of her orgasm and Azriel’s shadows until it hurt, until she she was too sensitive, and collapsed on the bed.

Sweat beaded across her skin. Her mind buzzed and her vision was foggy.

Azriel’s shadows began to massage her scalp in soothing strokes. Her eyes blinked open.

He was standing at the foot of the bed again, his pupils blown and chest visibly heaving. His cock was absolutely enormous in the outline of his pants, and Elain’s mouth went dry as she pushed herself onto her knees and took in how large he was. She reached for him.

“No,” Azriel stopped her with both hands on her wrists. “Not tonight.”

“Why?” She asked. They were still shielded. He had kept her screaming completely contained. If she knew he could do that, she might not have waited so long to strip naked in front of him.

“I won’t be able to cover my scent. I’ve already been here too long.” His face looked truly pained as his gaze slid down her body one last time. He shook his head, attempting to clear the fog of lust.

“Come here,” he said. His voice was gentle now. All signs of that commanding male holding her completely at his mercy disappeared. She crawled to the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling self conscious about her nakedness. As if he could sense her worry, his shadows whisked her nightgown off the floor.

“Arms up,” he said. She did as she was asked. “Good girl.”

She trembled as he replaced his shadows with his hands to tug the cool silk down her skin. Then, he pulled her in close for a tight hug. He enveloped her so completely, and she nuzzled into him. Into the strength of his body. His delicious scent.

It was so calming, so tender it left her breathless.

“I wish I could stay,” he said into her hair.

“I wish you could too.” she buried her face in his neck and he tightened his grip on her.

"Elain?" Azriel asked, softly gliding his mouth over her skin.

"Yes?" She breathed in reply.

“Don’t forget what happens when you try to tease me,” he whispered against the shell of her ear. She shuddered, her arousal stirring once again.

And then he was gone.

Elain waited for shame to wash over her, but it never did. That moment he had offered, brief as it was, to hold her afterwards… he hadn’t touched her apart from that. And somehow it was more caring and intimate than anything she had ever experienced with Grayson. Grayson had a tendency to focus on himself in bed. To grunt and heave over her until he was finished, then roll over and fall asleep. More often than not leaving her unsatisfied and sneaking quietly into the bathing chamber to tend to her own needs.

Yet Azriel…Azriel had kept his eyes on her, as if simply watching her find her pleasure was a dream. A gift. He had dragged it out, pushed her to the edge of near insanity. And he had wanted nothing in return but to hold her.

She trembled once again as she replayed those last words whispered into her ear.

Don’t forget what happens when you try to tease me.

She certainly wouldn’t. She didn’t think she would ever forget a single detail of this night. She wanted more of Azriel. She wanted to kiss him. To feel is skin. She wanted him inside her. But she also knew he crossed some boundaries tonight. For her. And it was enough. For now, it was more than enough.

She went to peek out through the curtains and saw the shadowhound keeping watch in the garden. He waggled his wispy tail and fluttered his wings at the sight of her. Elain brought her hand to her mouth to hold in her laug, and waved. He puffed out a breath of shadow in the shape of a heart, and Elain’s own heart clenched in her chest.

For the first night in such a long, long time, she slept deeply and without interruption. The nightmares never came.

She dreamed of a golden doe dancing through a valley of shadows. She had never seen anything so beautiful.

[chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct]

Windswept and Golden Chapter One 🩵✨

I need to make a little header image for this...

No warnings or anything... Just me spending too much time on the Oldtown wiki and being afraid to write scenes with more than two people...

Lacie leaned against the carriage window, her gaze wandering over the winding road, Oldtown's towering spire nowhere in sight. Her brothers had galloped ahead, their horses' hooves beating a steady rhythm against the dirt, and though she longed to ride alongside them as she had for most of the twelve-day journey, her gown-- a cumbersome necessity for today's purpose-- kept her firmly inside the stuffy cabin.

Barley, her closest friend and now loyal handmaid, sat comfortably with the young hackman at the front, chattering away. The pair had grown fond of one another during the journey, much to Lacie's quiet amusement. But inside the carriage, she found herself restless.

She had grossly misjudged the journey's length, and the monotony of the road had claimed the last pages of both her books. As the carriage rolled into a quiet, drowsy village, she silently begged for a reprieve, a stop-even if just to stretch her legs. She slumped further into her seat, her dove, Freefall, shifting atop her head with a quiet coo. His clawed feet clung to the nest he had fashioned in her curls

The town they passed through was draped in a dull slum. To Lacie, the place seemed utterly lifeless-- devoid of spark or intrigue. She felt as though the dreary landscape might suffocate her, her mind threatening to leak out through her ears. Even Freefall, perched atop her head, seemed unimpressed. If she didn't find some entertainment soon, she feared she might fade into the same dull grey that cloaked the town's weary streets.

She shut her eyes and pretended to be a bird as she conjured the image of Oldtown-- a jewel upon the Whispering Sound, its history rooted deep in the age of the First Men. The largest and wealthiest city in all the Seven Kingdoms. In her mind's eye, she could see its polished black stone glinting in the sunlight, its cobbled streets winding through a labyrinth of splendor. Encircling it all were towering walls of thick, unyielding stone-- a fortress of prosperity and grandeur.

Oldtown, they said, carried the scent of a perfumed lady-- its air thick with the sweetness of melons and the soft perfume of moonbloom, tangled with the richness of peaches and the dark allure of nightshade. Even the sweetest pomegranates lent their presence to the fragrant symphony. Lacie could almost feel the blossoms brushing against her skin. Truly, she could just die at the thought of it all.

The Citadel... A bastion of knowledge and enlightenment, yet its hallowed halls were not untouched by shadow. Whispers spoke of forbidden tomes locked away, of hidden agendas weaving through its scholarly pursuits. It fascinated her endlessly. One day, she would visit, no matter the cost-- sneaking in, if that's what it took, to uncover the secrets lurking behind its ancient doors.

The Starry Sept, where her parents wed in secret... It was here, too, that Aegon the Conqueror knelt before the Faith, anointed beneath its grand dome of black marble when proclaimed Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Beneath, the crypts stretched deep, their silence heavy with the remains of long- departed High Septons.

She imagined a maze of twisting wynds and alleys, their narrow, crooked paths weaving like threads through the heart of the city. Oh, the markets... What treasures might they hold?

With trade routes linking the city to Essos and the Summer Islands, Oldtown's markets brimmed with rare spices, fine silks, and exotic perfumes. Fresh fish, oysters, and delicacies from the Whispering Sound were abundant, alongside grains, fruits, vegetables, and refined beverages like Arbor gold. A feast for the palate and torture for the purse.

High-quality glasswork... Glasswork-- Her thoughts lingered on Hightower’s glass candle, whispered of by her mother countless times. What might its glow reveal if it were hers? The Wall’s icy expanse? The spires of King’s Landing? Sunspear’s golden sands? Perhaps farther still—the endless plains of Essos, or Tyrosh, the city of her grandmother’s birth.

Then there was The Hightower itself-- a towering fortress of austere black stone, its square silhouette commanding Oldtown's horizon. At its pinnacle, a gleaming beacon burned bright, guiding ships safely into the bustling port below. Here, she and her brothers would make their home, at least for now.

Deep beneath The Hightower lay vaults shrouded in mystery-- waiting to be explored by her and her brothers. Above, at its summit, were the apartments of the Lord of the Hightower. She couldn't help but wonder what her own chambers would look like within such storied walls... Surely like nothing she'd ever known before...

A sharp rapping on the door jolted her her from her thoughts and apparent slumber. She blinked a couple times and was met with Erron's shit eating grin looking at her from outside the window.

She swung the door open and stepped out, stretching her stiff limbs with a relieved sigh. Erron wasted no time, plucking Freefall from her head and tucking the bird snugly under his arm as his eyes roamed the courtyard with casual curiosity.

"Did you see the dragon?" he asked, his voice alight with excitement.

What...? What?!

"No... I was asleep," she muttered groggily, smoothing her disheveled hair as her eyes scanned the courtyard. To her surprise, it wasn't much different from the one back at Warmen Hall.... Just bigger.

"Great big thing, it was," he said, his tone still buzzing with excitement. "Shiny and blue and copper-colored."

"Color me jealous," she replied calmly, though her heart was practically in her throat. She brushed a stray lock of hair back and narrowing her eyes. "Where's Guias and Devlon?"

"No welcoming party, so they went off to find the training grounds," he shrugged.

No welcoming party? The thought struck her as odd.

She folded her arms tightly, her tone sharp with frustration. "So I dressed up and stayed cramped in that box for hours-for nothing?"

Around them, the courtyard bustled with activity, though none of the people paid them the slightest attention. They carried on, hauling their belongings into the keep, indifferent to the siblings' presence. It was as if they were no more than ghosts passing through.

"Are we just... supposed to wander around?" she asked, her voice edged with disbelief.

"I guess," Erron replied, shrugging casually. "Considering how rigid Mother made our oh- so-esteemed relatives out to be, I figured they'd at least bother to greet us. Or send a guide, maybe."

Well, this is... underwhelming.

"I thought so too," she said with a shrug. "Maybe we're ahead of schedule? Maybe they just don’t realize we’ve arrived..."

"Maybe," Erron mused, flashing a grin as he changed the subject. "Freefall and I are headed to find the kitchens. Care to join us?"

"No... I guess I'll just wander a bit," she said with a sigh, stretching until her back gave a satisfying pop. "Make sure Freefall doesn't lose his ribbon-- or better yet, find out where they've taken his cage."

Erron snapped into a playful salute. "Aye, mi'lady," he said with a grin, stepping backward without breaking the gesture. Freefall remained safely tucked under his arm.

She crossed her arms, fixing Erron with an exaggeratedly unimpressed glare as he backed away with his playful salute. Only when he finally turned and disappeared inside did her stance relax.

With a huff, she let her gaze wander across the unfamiliar courtyard. New places always unsettled her, a discomfort she couldn't quite shake. Fidgeting with the golden ram head clasping her belt, she began to meander, each step hesitant yet curious in the face of the unknown.

[evansuvamp]

Under A Lustful Moon pt. 1

🌸Pairing: Rudra x female OCs x Shiva 

🌸Warnings: mention of sex (oral, penetration, masturbation, fingering), kinks (restraints, praising, body worship), nudity, dirty talking 

🌸Notes: the reader is consenting! 

IMPORTANT: The authors (@evansuvamp and @riseofamoonycake) have chosen to write a fic with their respective OCs (Scarlet and Tanit), so they are presented with the names and features created by them; but the work can be read as a normal character x reader fic.

You can see the full header pic here. I did with lots of love!

-🌸-

It was a pleasant evening. A smooth and warm wind was blowing, a light breeze full of wet and sandy smells like a sea landscape. And to make it even better, a perfect view from the Svarga, which was printed with the most rich and colorful figures.

Everything there was filling the senses of a pair of old friends: the gods Shiva and Rudra, who weren’t alone at all. 

With them were two beautiful ladies. One of them had the brightest blonde hair, curly and smooth; a cascade of hair falling down her back, her feline gaze full of pleasant promises and the small mouth opened in a lascivious smile, the Moon Goddess Tanit, the Lady of Carthage, was slowly roaming around the high chamber, looking at the two deities sensually lying on the marble floor, lean on soft blankets, cushions and pillows. She was deliberately delaying the moment of joining them, taking all her time to observe them and to be observed, especially seeking and paying attention to Rudra: her great companion, her love. 

The Lord of Storms did nothing but stare at her, his eyes devouring her elegant and haughty figure, which the long scarlet dress only made more sensual.

With each wave of her hair or shadow play on her pale skin, his desire rose until it began to be painful. And she enjoyed seeing him tremble, slightly biting her lips and giggling. 

On the other hand, resting her hands on Shiva’s shoulders, there was a human: a redhead woman with clear skin, which had lots of small moles in many parts of her body. The most recognizable were in the valley of her breast, a half circle, almost like a moon cycle. These moles were arranged in different sizes. Her curvy hair flying with the light breeze. She was devoted to the king of the Hindu Pantheon, that’s why she was allowed to take care of him, even touching him. Also his wives agreed with her presence.

Her name matched the color of her marvelous hair: Scarlet. The young human slowly caressed the purple skin of the god, exchanging some glares with the magnificent goddess while a soft tone of her voice hummed right next to her Lord’s ear, which made him smile a little.

The tension in the air was increasing, and maybe that’s what made Shiva set his eyes into the redhead. He was not that fool to not notice how both females were playing with Rudra and him. That playful atmosphere never failed to turn him on. Even now, some scenes danced inside his head so he sent a quick glance to Rudra, wondering if he was also feeling the intoxicating air full of desire and lust emanating from him.

The God of Storms answered his friend’s silent question sighing and half closing his eyes, large drops of sweat beading his forehead and his hands firmly closed around the soft blankets, waiting for his lady to make her move.

Once again, the females looked at each other in silence, nodding at the same time; and finally Tanit came perilously close, stopping right in front of the gods and glaring at everyone present with the expression of a hungry tiger. «Now…», she fluted then, licking her lips with studied slowness and, immediately after, dropping the gown to the floor in one fluid motion, revealing all the golden jewels that intertwined on her naked skin. Behind her, a big silver moon was rising, its light sliding into her hair like a liquid crown, «… Why don’t we entertain each other?»

… And the night was just starting.

-🌸- 

Everything started time ago, in a day like another. 

«Lady Tanit.» A shy voice called for the goddess. It was the human Shiva brought some months ago. Her red hair was covering some parts of her face.

It wasn’t their first time talking, and she really appreciated the Moon Goddess because of her kindness and warmness. And for that reason, they entrusted themselves with lots of stuff. Even the intimate topics.

«I’m here for you, darling», replied the goddess, closing the book that she was reading and looking at the kind girl in front of her. She liked the human with all her being: she was respectful, caring and bright, a good company for Lord Shiva and a trustful person, a human sincerely devoted to her Lord and with a gentle heart. Tanit couldn’t help but love the humans and she sometimes missed the ancient times, when she was in Carthage among them; so she took Scarlet under her protective wing, it was natural to do so. 

«You know, Lord Shiva is always that playful… And how easy it is for him to be in the mood… I was thinking, how will he react to being teased by us? Do you think Lord Rudra would also join us?» The red lips of the human made a pouting face, wondering if the questions weren’t out of place for the time she was sharing with the goddess. Small and chubby fingers reached for another lock of blonde hair, braiding it with the other two that Scarlet was already grabbing carefully. She liked to brush and braid Tanit’s hair.

Tanit was silent for a moment, surprised at the request; then she curled her lips in a smile, which became a light and gentle laugh. «My, my, you sure know how to light up the nights, don’t you, little one?» The goddess threw back her head to look at Scarlet, then narrowed her eyes and gave the girl a knowing grin. «I think it’s something that can be done… such an idea has been on my mind for a while now, and knowing I’m not the only one doing it piques my interest.» With a gentle gesture, the Lady of the Moon signaled to Scarlet to stop her work and change positions, then she took the brush that the red beauty offered her and began to comb her wonderful hair. «Yes, I have no doubt that together we will come up with something great. We know our lovers well...»

The sudden change in her aura made the redhead curious about the goddess’ thoughts. In fact, her curiosity grew even more with the final comment. Maybe it would be fun. Scarlet smiled as well, allowing Tanit’s hands to brush her hair.

Later, both females were talking about the suggestion Scarlet made early that night. She wasn’t that skilled about intimacy, because not only were books the best source to get information about it, there was also the practice. Something that she, as a human, had never been interested in until now. And that was Shiva’s fault. Scarlet wanted to be more passionate, to show her Lord how good she could be and give him and his wives the same love she always received from them.

Scarlet listened to Tanit carefully, trying not to miss a part of what she was explaining to make the night even better for the four of them.

The goddess knew what she was doing, and the sweet desires that Scarlet kept within herself: for this, and this was the core of the speech, why not realize them immediately? Shiva already greatly appreciated the girl and was intrigued by her, but he still didn’t know her full potential, and neither did she herself; both needed a good test, but under certain conditions…

🌸 

«… Why don’t we entertain each other?»

The echo of Tanit’s voice had not yet died away, and the Lady of the Moon had already swung into action: after undressing herself, she was quick to kneel in front of Rudra and crawl sensually towards him, her gaze locked on the lover’s eyes and barely shaded by her long lashes.

No one would have had any doubts that he would have been her intended victim, but for his part the god was not caught unprepared: he didn’t let escape a moment and with two of his hands grabbed his beloved by the hips and dragged her over him, while the others slipped under the jewels that covered her breasts to caress the nipples. His head snapped forward and his mouth reached up to her neck, biting into the hollow between it and the shoulder and starting to suck, at which point she burst out laughing and wrapped her white arms around his back. «Easy, my love, there’s no need to hurry», she whispered in his ear while her skin was already beaded with drops of sweat and reddened under the hungry touch of the Lord of Storms, who for that evening had forgotten his usual calm and had decided to take her as soon as possible. The goddess let him play with her body without depriving him of the satisfaction of hearing her moan at every caress, bite and pressure on the sensitive skin, but her gaze often went to Scarlet, who in turn stared back at her: everything was proceeding according to plans.

Rudra was enjoying it, may it be because of how sensual and beautiful his favorite goddess was or maybe ‘cause he could sense how the Lady of the Moon managed all the situation. He could tell her stubbornness turned on him even more, and the way she was moving her hips in small circles while he played with her skin made even more noticeable how much their bodies had been missing each other. His lips traced her neck, sucking slowly to cause more moaning.

Scarlet had her cheeks blushing already: she could feel how sensual her lady was. The movements of her hips were so erotic, even when she was just teasing her Lord. Still, Scarlet’s hands made their way through Shiva’s neck to his hard muscles in his chest. The slow grunts from him as a signal of doing a good job. The massage was slow, with little circles, playing with the texture of his skin. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the god throwing his head to the side with his eyes closed. His smirk never disappears. One of his hands came to find Scarlet’s nape, forcing her a little closer so he could whisper: «What are you planning, little one? Hmm?» 

The voice was low, but playful and full of expectations.

He wanted to see her full potential, making her pass some limits and enjoy the time together. 

A small grin appeared on the angelical face. «Nothing, my Lord. I just want to praise and worship you.» She placed a small kiss on his forehead, never stopping the massage. 

Another grunt came from Shiva’s lips and this time it was lower, coming from his throat. The only noise of it made Scarlet’s legs rub together. She loved his voice.

Once again, her eyes returned to her lady, looking for some approval to follow the plan.

«Yes, Lord Shiva… enjoy the time with your girl, you deserve it!», the golden haired goddess added, sweetly smiling at Shiva just before letting out a louder moan and digging her nails deep into Rudra’s back, who in turn muffled his voice against the partner’s shoulder. «You can lie to him, but not to me», replied the Lord of the Storms, taking a deep breath and giving her a slight grin. Two hands rested on her breast and the others grabbed his thighs, Tanit couldn’t have escaped that grip even if she wanted to: not even his gaze showed a sign of letting her go. «I don’t believe a word you said, my lady. What are you planning for us? Come on, share it, we are listening.» As if to give her a little incentive to start, one of the god’s hands slided from Tanit’s thigh to reach her intimacy, and two fingers were quick to find her already wet opening and caress the outermost lips, then pinch them.

Shiva chuckled hearing the goddess barely hold back a cry, then lifted his lids slightly to observe her, focusing on her flushed cheeks and the trembling of her hips and breasts, then turned his head and stared at Scarlet, piercing her with a lascivious look. «These sweet girls... they really think they can hide something from us, eh, Rudra?», he murmured, caressing his lover’s chest up to the neck, then taking her chin between his index and middle fingers and caressing her lips with his thumb. His jewel, his precious little bat… 

That caress was just a warning, she could feel the God of Destruction’s hot breath. Then she was attracted to the front, so Shiva could see her. He raised an eyebrow: her little body was showing some signals of pleasure, indeed, his beloved human was enjoying the tease and Shiva became impatient to take her for his own desires.

«Don’t underestimate us, great Lords», Tanit replied playfully, trying to control the speed of her breath and not give in to the shivers running through her skin, «… or you might be surprised.»

«Are you playing with us?» The two friends spoke at the same time, and at this point the girls started to laugh, the complicity arising in their tune. 

«Some things require patience, my Lord», Scarlet spoke. Her curves were even more noticeable through the light gown she was wearing. The saree was black, her favorite color, it had been modified to some fresh look for the girl’s comfort. Clothing and light played a good silhouette for the god’s view, while the candles’ flame danced through the room; even the slightest movement was caught by Shiva’s vision. And just for that, he brushed his own lips with the tongue. «Well then, I’m beyond interested now. Let us see what you have in mind.» 

Scarlet took apart the veil covering part of her shoulders and bare back, her hips swayed to the left side and her hands took a new position. No music was needed really for them. Slow motions of her curves, along with the jewels she wore most of the time, were enough to make the arousal of her Lord to increase. 

Besides, she was not alone at all: soon, her moon lady escaped from Rudra’s touch and joined the show. Her golden jewelry tinkled in synchrony with her body, and the sight made Rudra go feral easily. He knew the perfection of Tanit’s graceful movements, and the fact that she rarely allowed him to dance together just made the teasing game a little but pleasureable torture.

Scarlet joined Tanit and touched her body, playing with it and caressing her hips. Her body bounced slowly to the sides, making small circles in the air. Soon, the pair of their hips grinded together and they took the opportunity to share a small kiss. Their hands intertwined, both bosoms collided as the kiss became deeper. Scarlet let out small moans, while her lady’s tongue made its way through her mouth. 

Then, Shiva retorted with some impatience: «Come on! That’s cheating! If you keep doing that, I don’t think I can control myself.»

It was an evil game. Rudra tried to be calm but the view was making him totally desperate to feel that burning skin one more time. «Tanit… please, don’t make it longer…» 

The little plea made Tanit smile, while she was still dancing with the little human. It was funny for the ladies but not that much for the great gods. «We told you not to underestimate us», the Moon Goddess replied in a siren voice, slowly turning her eyes to observe Rudra’s pained expression, kissing Scarlet again as she maintained eye contact with him. She loved these moments: when the situation was in her hands and she was in charge, deciding and pulling the strings, and everything depended on her. This was the power she had always wanted to have: not over Carthage, not over peoples, but over her lovers. To be worshiped by them, to dominate them, to take them to the edge was a sadistic pleasure that went beyond that of the flesh, even if she herself felt the weight of that torment on the body. She and Scarlet wouldn’t continue much longer with that teasing, the effect they had obtained was enough and their companions were becoming really impatient and difficult to control; and they, too, were eager to join the lovers once their goal was achieved. They had played enough.

With a slow and fluid movement, and without their mouths separating, Tanit first slid her hands on the girl’s buttocks and squeezed them tightly, eliciting a moan, then took her in her arms and kissed her at the base of the neck, slightly biting. «You are very good, truly exceptional», the goddess praised softly as she carried her into the arms of Shiva, who welcomed his girl and hugged her as if for fear that Tanit would take her away after only one touch. «You had a great time at our expense», he murmured, giving the Moon Lady a burning look and a smirk that promised revenge, «but are you ready to be repaid? Especially you, Lady of Carthage... I know there is your mind behind it all, don’t fool me. You really love to play with fire, hmm?»

Tanit smiled more and more, the answer ready; but Rudra was faster and, grabbing her with all four hands, pressed her to him until she was out of breath, burying his face in her hair. More than before his desire was evident and imbued with irritation and animal hunger, ready to explode. «Shiva is right... you have to make it up to me, my beloved. And now I want to see how you manage to escape me again...», he whispered in her ear as his fingers unhooked and removed her jewels, leaving her completely naked, «try, if you can.»

The goddess only had time to cast a glance at Scarlet, about to suffer the same fate, that the Lord of Storms rolled her under him and anchored her to the soft blankets, squeezing her with his whole body and grabbing her wrists with two hands, while the others were free to caress, tease and slip where they most wanted. The moon was caged by the storm, a roaring, thirsting and demanding calamity.

The god knew his lady’s body well, by now not an inch of her skin was a secret to him: not a mole, not a single mark. For this reason, after playing for a while with all her most sensitive points, he suddenly attacked her hips, stroking them slowly and repeatedly, gently pinching them. 

For Tanit, nothing was more irresistible than being touched and grabbed there, so it didn’t take more than an instant before she began to squirm and pant, her cheeks redder and redder. In her mind all thoughts became confused, invaded by waves of pleasure more and more intense; and almost as if she wanted to get rid of them, she threw her head back on the pillows, exposing the neck.

A more than tempting occasion for Rudra, who attacked it repeatedly with kisses, and then started to go down her chest to reach the breasts, making her tremble under his tongue.

«R-Rudra», she chirped as his lips closed around her nipple, trying to break free from his grip; in response, the god tightened the fingers around her wrists and began to suck, enjoying every gasp and moan she let out, with the clear intention of tormenting her until she was exhausted. The Lord of Storms was delighted, every single sound escaping Tanit’s lips just made him sweat and grunt. His tongue dances slowly around the areola, while his right hand left the hip and started to torment the other nipple; then he freed the goddess' wrists and started having fun with her wet skin. He left a moan out after feeling her gracile hands reaching out his hair, and the soft strokes became hair pulls. Judging by the sexy and loud noises Tanit was letting go, he was doing a good job. Her voice was an authorization to his movements, which made him keep sucking on her nipple, again and again. 

The wet sounds echoed through the beautiful bedroom, making all of them shiver. Her siren-like voice was always tantalizing and not just the gods were affected by it: Scarlet started to feel more and more wetness between her legs, and the kisses her Lord gave to her neck just fueled her desire to the highest point. She moaned loudly when Shiva’s teeth marked it slowly, sucking the tender flesh as his right upper arm played with her soft thighs. «It seems like you enjoy it, hm?», Shiva’s low tone rang in her ears, a wet sensation made her tremble and then, the sharp teeth touched just a little of her earlobe. That panting voice mixed with Tanit’s and Rudra smiled, giving a glance to her eyes. 

He noticed her nipples hardening, just the same way as his dick. Suddenly, he stopped licking to pinch them in slow round movement. His bottom arms kept the beautiful and plush legs open for him, and another smirk appeared on his face, noticing how wet she was. «Is all of this for me? It looks so sweet, I’ll have a taste.» Rudra bent, leaving small kisses all over her sweet and plump skin. As soon as he found her pubis, his arms secured her legs to keep her still, he knew how sensitive she was: that’s why he enjoyed teasing her in such a way. Grabbing her so tightly would make her feel vulnerable when his tongue licked the round, pink pearl. 

She squirmed, moaning for the cool sensation as Rudra gave another lick, this time accompanied by a little bit of biting. Guided by her moans louder and louder, Rudra added more tension to the hot session, starting to suck on it as his eyes locked with hers. «Mmh… What is it, eh? Do you enjoy yourself, Little Moon?», a husky voice came from his mouth. He knew a storm was building up in her core.

The Moon Goddess was in rapture with the skilled wet muscle of her beloved Lord. «Oh my… Rudra…» Another subtle bite was given. Rudra’s teeth weren’t as sharp as Shiva’s but still the feeling was enough to tame Tanit. Her hips rolled up, trying to feel more of him as her hands pulled the raven locks of his hair. She wanted more of his sweet and rough ways of love. «More, Rudra… I want more… Ah!», she jolted, and Rudra moved his tongue until meet those sweet folds which called him.

Once again, Tanit pant loudly, enjoying the way her Lord worshiped her body. He knew how to embrace her, to tame her desires. But it was never enough. She loved to be at his mercy and feel their bodies rolling, sweating and intertwined. Right now she was lost of words, lips parted, eyes half-lidded and sweat running through her body. «Tell me, my queen… Mmh… Answer», his voice changed. He wanted to know, he wanted her to scream how good she felt when he ate her out.

No answer came, Tanit wanted to play and not giving Rudra what he wanted was the perfect way to join the game. But it lasted shortly: a finger slipped easily in her folds. He showed her a smirk, adding the second finger and still holding her legs with the bottom arms, while the other was free to roam on her body. It helped him to tease her clit easily and pump his fingers inside her. «If you refuse to talk, then I can make you answer with this», hunger and lust were placed in his voice, working her body. He adored her. 

Tanit's shaking voice increased with the pace of his fingers but still managed to reply his demands. «So good… Please, my Lord… Don’t stop. Make it harder… Hah! I’m going-»

But he stopped. A wide smile formed in his face, loving how flustered and upset she was.

As this happened, Scarlet was starting to struggle to keep her powerful Lord at bay, who continued to torment her sensitive earlobe for a while as all of his hands moved along her face and neck, stroking and squeezing his treasure’s beautiful skin. This felt very much like a sensual punishment, a slow, simmering torture to teach an overly bold and disobedient subject where she belonged. Shiva was hungry for her flesh and did nothing to hide it; on the contrary, he probably also felt pain from holding back, yet he continued to do so, in order not to give Scarlet the physical satisfaction she craved for.

The redhead sighed deeply, shaking under a shiver when two of the Lord of Destruction’s hands slid along her shoulders and the fingers began to run along her arms, the fingertips just resting on them in a very light caress. «A torment for a torment, my lovely bat. Some mistakes cost dearly, sweet girl», he whispered to her just before leaning forward, suddenly interrupting the caresses and giving her a slight push. With a small cry of surprise, Scarlet slid off the god’s lap and onto the soft blankets, and immediately afterward she found herself surrounded by his arms, ensnared by his burning eyes and triumphant grin. It wasn’t the growing pressure of Shiva’s body on hers that made the girl blush; not the arms ever tighter around her, tense not to leave to her even the imagination of being able to escape, nor the knee that slipped between her legs to keep them open and rubbed softly against her opening dripping with fluids and delights, nor the low, heartless laugh that only she could hear… but the shadows that suddenly began to dance on the face of her lover, making him look like a creature of darkness and secrets, an entity that has come from the Night itself to kidnap her and make her his, only his. 

Rudra had brought the storm even to the sky, for the sweet moon had fallen into the hands of black clouds which deprived the chamber of much of its light: and from that darkness neither the goddess nor the girl could find salvation, as it had come just for them.

One frowning and the other hesitant, both bent by the impulses they felt in their bodies but which their loved ones didn’t want to satisfy, the two ladies looked at each other for a moment; the next instant their respective companions grabbed their attention again by turning their faces to look at them, then both Rudra and Shiva burst out laughing. 

«You two will drive us crazy», the first murmured, leaning over Tanit's forehead to give her a kiss, before doing the same service to her mouth, «but we love you for that too. Come on, open your golden doors to me, my great queen, this time I'll give you all the pleasure you want», he said while wrapping his arms around the Lady of the Moon as he covered her chin and neck with more kisses, making her smile again.

Shiva looked at the two with a smile, then returned his focus solely to his young devotee.

Scarlet opened her arms without hesitation when the god stretched out on her body and crouched on her belly, rubbing the nose against the hollow between her breasts and kissing her skin. «Aaah, now what am I supposed to do with you, my little flower?», he purred, enjoying her caresses and eyeing her sideways like a cat, «I should thank you for always making me so hungry... but you’ll be able to hold on long enough to let me do it properly… or you’ll faint for me?»

«Do with me what you will, my Lord», Scarlet’s soft voice answered him, her eyes filled with stars and his same hunger, «I’m here for you.»

«And that’s what I want», replied the Lord of the Dance as he leaned on two of his arms and lifted his torso just enough to advance up her body, stopping when their two faces were at level, «and you know it, my adorable chick.»

«My Lord… I really love you», Scarlet’s arms passed through his upper limbs with a snake-like touch, until they were around his neck. She smiled, leaning to meet her Lord’s lips, eye contact all the time. Her lips parted a little, to allow his tongue to seek the wanted dominance of hers as always. A small pant escaped the red and plump lips from the human, as her hips made a slight trust against the god. He replied doing another one, playfully, he wanted to tease her even when she was already soaking between her legs.

For the friends gods, this was going to a crazy level and they needed some release soon. The body language never lied, and all the kisses, wet sounds reverberated through their room doing a perfect harmony for the heated session. Scarlet reached for Shiva’s hair, pulling slowly while her lips hid between his neck. Small bites and marks were left along the muscles, caressing the blue tattoo easily. Shiva grunted, using the right bottom hand to meet Scarlet’s hips. She was being naughty again and he won’t last a second more waiting for her.

She could read his expression when his muscles tensed above her, so the next she knew was a ripping sound, of course it was from her own clothes. Shiva surely liked to destroy things and he was serious about it. The thin silky fabric was thorn easily, leaving just some shreds around and a devilishly grin from the God of Destruction. Scarlet maintained her eyes on him, feeling how the hunger flames seemed to burn her alive with every single caress. Before he could take another step, she used her legs to trap him. «Lord Shiva… Do I give you pleasure?» Her question was just a fake concern, she just wanted to earn some time and enjoy his alluring voice while the plan started.

«Oh my sweet one, you know very well that you do it. You light up the flame inside me and make me feel in rapture. Just a little touch of yours can make me fall instantly for you… My devoted girl… You give lots of pleasure, love and kindness. So that’s why I want to take you to the next level every time. Are you ready for me?» A lascivious smile came from those plump lips, running his hands through the bottoms of his human girl. For him, patience was becoming zero and his breath started to increase, kissing her deeply.

Now, Scarlet reached for his strong arms for support. She knew that god was a complete steel man, his iron force would never let her go and do as she pleased soon. Scarlet stopped the kiss and took him between her small hands, «My Lord, would you let me take some initiative this time? I just want to worship you in every possible way… I want to be yours, and only yours…» Her voice was smooth, wanting to crush her own barriers and start to make a move for him.

The small left hand traveled down his torso, caressing the hard skin. All his muscles were tonified and tensed, his breath hitched when she touched his pelvis. By this moment, Shiva was completely lost in her, throwing his head aside and enjoying those touches. A small moan came out at the light pressure Scarlet put onto him and it became louder just in a quick movement she made. It was also hard for her, because even if it was just a few octaves, Shiva used that voice of his to take her to nirvana. Her thighs were sweating with the new posture, she above him and Shiva allowing the pleasure to increase. He was about to come when she stopped, another groan completely upset came out and she smiled, climbing to his body. «May I ride you, my Lord?» He was huge, she knew that but still, she wanted to take him, restrain his will and make both of them enjoy each other.

On the other hand, Rudra stared at Tanit’s body, running his fingers between the last jewels left on her. He took some of them between his teeth, just to play with her. The make out was passionate, they could feel it around their skin. The lord of Storms lined up with her body, a pair of arms on both sides of her beautiful and feminine curves. His eyes never let her break their connection. Then he said: «Sweet moon… Am I allowed to give you all the pleasure now? We both know this won’t last a minute more… I need to feel your beautiful body shiver under me. And I know you want me to please you, to touch and fuck you so hard…» last thing was a low whisper, while he placed a kiss behind her ear.

Tanit looked at him, her eyes shining like golden gems, filled with desire and adoration, and sat down, urging the god to do the same thing. Her hands slid up his chest in sinuous circular motions, finally closing around his breasts and gently massaging his nipples: she knew very well how irresistible it was for him, as much as for her to be touched on the hips, and stared at him, who tilted his head back and took a deep breath, his skin covered with new beads of sweat and two of his hands convulsively gripping the covers, the others closed around her wrists and trembling under the light torture. «Yes, I want you to take me», she replied, leaning her face against his chest and rubbing her nose on it, then kissing the hot skin, «I want to feel you inside me. You are so good at making me scream, and I have been too sadistic with you… so, take your time: you know how I like it, deep and slow. I am in your able hands, my only Lord: I am your love slave.»

Rudra clearly heard the slight provocative note in her words ― who really was the slave between them? ―, but he paid no attention to it, enchanted by her gaze as he was; also, the Lady of the Moon was quick to jump on the lover’s lap and, freeing the wrists from the grip, threw her arms around his neck and dug the nails into the nape. «Go», her honeyed voice murmured to him, the lips an inch from his and the belly rubbing against his muscles, «the moon wants to get full for you.»

This was the watchword: unable to hold back any longer, Rudra grabbed Tanit with all the four hands and pressed her against his chest, while she wrapped her legs around his hips and her moist opening begged to be filled. The god slid into his beloved moon with ease and both gasped as their bodies united, then he began to move calmly, pounding into her sensually and deeply, breathing rapidly while she seconded every movement with her pelvis. The urgency to give and take all the promised pleasure manifested itself in the iron grip with which they held the other’s flesh and kept looking at each other, inflaming the gaze with smiles and everything that escaped their mouths and bodies: whispers, cut words, short breaths, moaning and panting, and the Tanit’s sharp nails deeply marking the nape of Rudra’s neck and then tracing bright red roads along his back, making the skin quiver under the mix of pain and delight that the god was feeling.

Usually at this time, the goddess leaned her head on his shoulder or threw it back, snuggling against him or letting her neck be marked; in that night, however, she continued to stare at his face for long minutes, with the clear intention of seeing his every reaction, even if the continuous and well-aimed thrusts made her moans higher and higher and her eyes began to ooze gold and silver tears, as they always did when she felt an almost unbearable pleasure. «More», she whispered to her lover, «I know you can hold on… on… hold on for me. Do it for me, do it... please! Please, again! Ah!»

Without saying a word, Rudra surrendered completely to his own desires and those of his lady and leaned forward, laying her on the blankets and covering her with his body, harpooning the fabric with two hands as the others positioned themselves on the goddess’ hips to hold her in place. The thrusts became stronger and if possible even deeper, also favored by her fingers, still tormenting his back; and while the love making seemed destined to last forever and to grow in intensity, she was going to faint, losing all of herself, while the great heat she felt became almost nil and the nerves slowly lost resistance to consciousness. Never, never before Rudra fucked her dumb with such strength and urgency; and she loved every second of it almost desperately, fearing that she was only living a dream and none of this was happening: especially, that the god had never been real, that he had never loved her, that the happiness and peace she felt from when he had entered her existence it was only an illusion.

«Oh no, you are not running anywhere. Come back to me», Rudra murmured when he saw her eyes blur and detach from reality, leaning closer to her and slowly biting her lips; she gasped and let out a choked cry, wrested from her fears with the delicate firmness that only he possessed, and met his flaming gaze a short distance from hers, waiting for her return. «Your thoughts have to know there is no place for them tonight», he said with a sweet smile, pressing her hips harder and kissing her cheeks, mouth and neck, «you are all mine, you have to feel everything I do to you.» As if to underline the words he had just uttered, the Lord of Storms gave a stronger thrust, taking her breath away for the umpteenth time: and her body vibrated and trembled, making her realize that she was close to the climax and suggesting the same thing to the god. The belly of the Moon Goddess stretched out towards that of her lover, who slowly massaged it with one of his free hands, just pinching the navel, and then slid the other under her, to stroke her back and help her free herself. Tanit’s hands grabbed the ones pressed on her hips, and with a sigh she had her first orgasm of the evening.

«Good girl», whispered Rudra, embracing his golden goddess and slipping to the side to change positions and roll under her, without stopping pounding. «You deserve to dominate me. Come on, my lady, ride me as you like, the reins are yours.» A second orgasm followed soon after, but the series was destined to be long: Tanit had known for some time what to expect during her nights with the lover, his voracity melted her skin in shivers at least as much as the energies with which he tested her resistance.

«My love, so you really want to drive me crazy…», she murmured, taking two of his hands and bringing them to her breasts, as she let the others slide down her buttocks and squeeze them; before he could answer, she motioned him to stop for a moment and, in front of his delighted gaze, undid the ponytail, freeing the long locks and sending them sliding down his back and over both of their chest, and on Rudra's fingers.

«Look at my sweet lynx», the god commented, stroking her curls and bringing them to his mouth to kiss them one by one. He was the only one allowed to touch, caress and even lick them, a great honor for him, «we aren’t joking at all, aren’t we?»

She leaned over him and poured her hair around their faces, a soft golden curtain that separated them from all the rest of the world, even from Scarlet and Shiva. «Hmmm… I’ll be all yours, but you belong to me. And now, don’t you feel like you’ve been standing still for too long?» Placing her hands on his chest, Tanit rotated her hips and began dictating a new rhythm, immediately feeling shivers of pleasure invade her flesh and mind. «Leave it all to me. Trust me, puppy, mommy is here.»

«Tanit… Tanit…» This time it was Rudra’s turn to reach the climax: his lady’s hair lightly tickling his cheeks and neck, her nails gripping his chest like the claws of a hungry feline, her little mouth stimulating and testing his throat and his neck cords, the dance she forced him to do with her hips, every move added ever more uncontrollable pleasure: he was losing his mind and giving it all to her, the goddess was holding him firmly in her white hands and playing with him as she pleased, teasing him, slowly sucking away his lucidity. He, he was the true slave, and she the sweet and sadistic mistress delighted by every moan and gasp and murmur released by his lips. «Come for me, my Lord», whispered the moon siren, repeatedly stroking his nipples and receiving a louder moan in return, «come on, free yourself for me.» He kept chanting her name like a prayer and the grip of his hands tightened on her flesh, making her smile wider and stimulate him again and again. She was in heaven, at the pick of delight, and all this thanks to her great partner. «I love when you adore me in this way…», she praised him softly, then kissed him on the lips, «you really are the beloved heart of the moon.»

He came while she was kissing him for the second time. The goddess felt his body relax and distend under her touch, his hands becoming more delicate and gently caressing her; so she pulled away from his mouth to rub her nose against his. «Good boy», she fluted, stroking his hair and face, «you know that I love you more than my existence, right?»

«I know it very well… but I want it more», he whispered, panting heavily, his teary eyes full of love and veneration for his moon. «Please, love me again. I want to… I want to be fucked another time by your perfect body. Take me again.»

«How insatiable we are⁓» she laughed, standing over him and throwing her head back, her eyes sparkling with euphoria, «but don’t worry, I’ll gladly obey: I too want to feel you inside me a thousand times...» She stopped for a moment and glanced at Scarlet, who in tacit agreement replied with a silent look, «but first, there is something our little girl and I have to do… a present for you and our Lord Shiva.» Without waiting any longer, Tanit slid down from Rudra’s body and jumped to her feet, her skin covered in bites and love marks of all kinds, to then bend down to the ground and collect the jewels that the god’s ardor had scattered around. Her hands were soon filled with the golden chains with which she used to cover her body, and when she stood up, in her gaze there was a new light and a smile more similar to a grin.

«What... What do you want to do? Hey!» Shiva threw his head back, looking at the goddess from below, as soon as he saw her approaching him out of the corner of his eye; then he returned his attention to Scarlet, who with the speed of a snake and unsuspected strength had grabbed two of his wrists and held them tight, waiting for Tanit. «Don’t be afraid», the girl chirped, an innocent smile painted on her gorgeous face, «you will like it and thank us, later. Trust my words, my Lord.»

«Listen to her», Tanit went on, grabbing his other two wrists and smiling at him affably and warmly, «we will make you happy.»

«I don’t believe a word you―»

Both ladies bent over his face and kissed him on the mouth at the same instant, depriving him of any possibility of replying and making his eyes widen in surprise; then, the subtle click of a lock or something like that filled the air, and Tanit let out a silvery laugh. «Now try to move, if you can! Come on, use all your strength!», she breathed into his ear, lasciviously stroking his cheeks as she withdrew to contemplate the work, and Scarlet did the same.

More and more astonished and now also agitated, Shiva stared at his hands: a refined but very strong golden weave, the most precious gold Carthage had ever created and Tanit blessed with her powers and love, caged his wrists, tying them one to the other above his own head, effectively immobilizing all his arms. Firmly anchored to the ground, a long pin held all the chains in place, further limiting the god’s possibilities of movement, who was therefore completely at the mercy of the two. «What… What! Why? What are you two going to do to me? Answer!»

«You will see for yourself, Lord of Destruction», Tanit replied, throwing her hair back and waddling elegantly towards Rudra, who, propped up on his elbows, watched the scene with rapt eyes and a deep blush on his face, «indeed, you will both see it: you, and my beloved storm.»

Without putting up any resistance, Rudra suffered the same fate as Shiva, but he never took his elongated eyes off the goddess: thus, she had this in mind when she let her hair down; and probably, somehow, it was she who had goaded him into take off her jewels to later use them for a methodically concocted plan, woven together with Scarlet’s skilful mind. Those two… «Torture me all the time you want», he whispered as she closed her hands around his wrists, wrapping them in a cold grip, «but remember that sooner or later you’ll have to free me, and you’ll pay for everything.»

Scarlet smiled, then hooked all the chains to the pin, snatching a small gasp from him when she had to pull: now he was her prisoner in every way, unable to defend himself from her torturing fingers, and he had to accept whatever she would have reserved for him. «I’m not going to make you feel pain, fear not: you deserve only the greatest pleasure, and I don’t want to deny it to you. However, I also desire to fully enjoy your beautiful and strong body, so… so now get ready for a second session of warmth and love, as I promised before.»

«Are… are you going to torment me again until I am at my limit? Aren’t you?»

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

YOU DON'T KNOW HOW EXCITED I AM FOR THIS! We worked together and it was truly a wonderful experience! We hope you like it and, wait for the second part!

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👻 Mun & Rules 👻 Muses 👻 Verses 👻 Themes

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Semi-Selective - Non-Mutual Exclusive - 21+ Minors DNI - See Rules for details regarding who I will follow back - Mun is in her 30's - Open to all crossovers, canons, OCs, and self-inserts - Multifandom, Multimuse, and Multiship!

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Please make sure you read my rules before you follow me!

Reading my rules is a requirement for me to follow you back. I do require that you send in the password/like a separate post that is found within my rules, as proof that you have read them. I require this because throughout my time roleplaying, I unfortunately have had many instances of people disregarding my boundaries because they had not even read my rules to be aware of them in the first place. If you choose to follow me anyway without reading my rules and sending in the password/liking the separate post, then I will not follow you back. We may still interact with each other, but I will not see your posts and you will not be prioritized over my mutuals. If that is too harsh for you, then this is something you may want to consider before following me.

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✨ Follows back from @spaceyraccoon ✨

Updated 05/29/2025

✨ Doomsday & James are my main muses! Most interactions will come from them! ✨

Mobile friendly bios for each individual muse are available by clicking on their name below:

Sunday - 🔆 Cyrus Monday - 🌙 Doomsday Tuesday - 🏃 James Wolfe / 💄 Mariella Rigby Wednesday - 💻 Oleander/432 / 🧸 September/432 Thursday - ⭐🌌 Thursday Friday - 🏢 Dorian Saturday - 🧍 Stanley Johnson /👤 Shadow Stanley

✨ Current Activity Status: Please note, my kid is on summer break, so activity will be slower for the time being! I am still available for chatting and plotting, though. :)

These days I tend to be more casual roleplay than active roleplay blog. I tend to do more in the way of casual writing and posting musings and things that inspire my muses than a lot of active roleplaying. I simply don't have the time, energy, or motivation to do a lot of heavy roleplaying the way I used to, so I come and go at my leisure.

I still enjoy writing and roleplaying, though, so I am here to do just that. If you wish to interact with me, please keep these things in mind. My replies may be slow and will tend to lean more towards what interests me first - the rest will follow on a schedule. If this does not suit your needs, I understand and harbor no ill will towards you.

As for my activity status here on my blog, I tend to be more active in the mornings and evenings (CST). Also, it's very difficult for me to be active much on weekends as I am quite busy, especially on Saturdays. ✨

*More information about lore, etc. below the cut

👻 Rules

👻 My Tagging System

👻 Ask Memes (Feel free to send in at any time, just make sure to link in the ask or send along with the URL, please)

👻 Open Starters

👻 RP Wishlist

👻 Muses!

👻 Verses

👻 Writing, Stories, and Developments

👻 References

✳Locations

Offices

Post-Apocalyptic Fictional Earth

The In-Between

Dimension 42

Soatera

The Infinite Toilet Dimension

✳Creatures and Beings

Ghosts

Nightcrawlers

The Dampening

The Line™

The Retcon

Living Buildings

✳History

Pre-Parable - The history of ABC Corp aka the Haunted Office.

The Stanley Parable - The Narrators and Stanley Parable navigating the Parable together.

Post-Parable - Everything that has taken place since the beginning of this blog. This will be doled out on an as-needed basis in threads, via asks, in DMs, etc.

✳Other

Office Roles (and other Office lingo)

The Nature of the Offices

Parables Unsolved

Doom's Cursed Rocks

Dividers sourced here! Blog Header sourced here! The Haunted Office logo in pinned post commissioned from @alabonshay Profile image commissioned from @potato-lord-but-not

[quillofspirit]

Hello and Welcome!

I mostly reblog interesting things, either for vibes or fun! The fandoms I interact the most with at the moment are Pirates of the Caribbean, Pride and Prejudice, and Lord of the Rings, though I might grow that list.

Update: The list has grown! I now have a second blog where I talk- reblog The Mandalorian and Red Dead Redemption 2 things, come join @teasat4

I make free custom dividers, headers and themes! Hit me up if you want to be on the waitlist, and have a look at this post for details

I read fics! Here's my post about it.

You can find all of the fics I read and loved with the #fic rec! And here's my 2023 fic rec masterlist!

The Woman and the Horse

Éostré doesn't know where she belongs. The thing she does know? Wherever that is has horses. And when she gets there, it will have one more, if Réod has anything to say about it.

Read it on Ao3 here

Tropes Slight cowboy AU (some elements only), platonic relationship. Trigger warnings loss, grief, some injuries mentionned Word count 4,100 Chapters 2/3

Little Éostré Réod Home

The Shadow of Sorrows

Cleia was supposed to follow a Lieutenant in the hopes of learning their plans. She followed him. She learned the plans. She just might not be alive to spoil them.

Trigger warnings Violence, death, grief Word count 5,541 Chapters 2/2

The Shadow of Sorrows Kalendora’s Fall

Light as a Feather

The beginnings of a young maiden, with wings and a bright smile.

Set in LOTR, but I certainly made mistakes throughout. This is not meant to be true to everything Tolkien, just my thoughts on the life an oc with wing might have in Middle-Earth. Also, there is no dialogue.

Trigger warnings Loss, grief, some guilt Word count 7,340

Standalone Chapter

Middle -Earth Terrain study Find the masterlist here

Photography recommendations here

Here are some of my personal favorite classical pieces that give me "dancing to no music with no one watching and it's the most magical evening" feels - you can find the list with links here

I visited New Zealand!

I posted my favourite pictures from each week.

Week 1 Week 2 Week 3 Week 4 Week 5

I have an Unsplash!

I use quillofspirit, you can find it here

Top 5 - Number 5, Number 4, Number 3, Number 2 , Number 1

POTC and P&P characters as cats or dogs - you can find it here

POTC characters if they had horses - you can find it here

Elizabeth Swann and Elizabeth Bennet meet - you can find it here pssst this is also the post that inspired my return to Tumblr after 10 years away!

This is a safe space! I will not tolerate hate speech of any kind, towards anyone. I blog for fun, let's keep this civil.

As it may feature NSFW aspects, this is not a blog for minors. Please, do not interact if you are.

[antigonewinchester]

Inspired by the lists I've seen floating around... here are 50 memorable books (or some series) that have stuck with me over the years. It's includes fiction, non-fiction, and comics/manga.

[edit as of evening of 4/8/25] List under the cut for reference (with titles, authors, artists, and translators listed when I could find them).

5 Centimeters per Second, written by Makoto Shinkai, art by Yukiko Seike

Akane-Banashi, written by Yui Suenaga, drawn by Takamasa Moue, translated from Japanese by Stephen Paul

Bambi, Felix Salten, translated from German by Damion Searls

Between Two Fires: An Epic Tale of Medieval Horror, Christopher Buehlman

Black Jack, writing & art by Osamu Tezuka, translated from Japanese by Camellia Nieh

Blue Flag, writing & art by Kaito

Breaking Bread with the Dead: A Reader’s Guide to a More Tranquil Mind, Alan Jacobs

The Breath of the Sun, Isaac R. Fellman

Chainsaw Man, Tatsuki Fujimoto, translated from Japanese by Amanda Haley

A Change Meeting: American Encounters, Rachel Cohen

The Checklist Manifesto: How to Get Things Right, Atul Gawande

Conviction, Kelly Loy Gilbert

Dr. Franklin’s Island, Ann Halam

Fear, Gabriel Chevalier, translated from French by Malcolm Imrie

Haikyu!!, Haruichi Furudate

History of Wolves, Emily Fridlund

How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy, Jenny Odell

How to Live: or, a Life of Montaigne, in One Question and Twenty Attempts at an Answer, Sarah Bakewell

How to Think, Alan Jacobs

In a Lonely Place, Dorothy B. Hughes

Kapo, Aleksandar Tišma, translated from Serbo-Croatian by Richard Williams

Kasane, Matsuura Daruma

Kindred, Octavia Butler

The Long Goodbye, Raymond Chandler

The Long Walk, Stephen King

Lord of the Files, William Golding

The Master and his Emissary: The Divided Self and the Making of the Western World, Iain McGilchrist

Milkman, Anna Burns

Morality Play, Barry Unsworth

Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro

The Oceans of Cruelty: Twenty-Five Tales of a Corpse Spirit, A Retelling, written & translated by Patrick Penick

Ôoku: The Inner Chambers, Fumi Yoshinaga

Opus, Satoshi Kon, translated by Zack Davisson

Piranesi, Susanna Clarke

Season of Migration to the North, Tayeb Salih, translated from Arabic by Denys Johnson-Davies

Shadow of the Torturer& Claw of Conciliator, Gene Wolfe

The Shallows: What the Internet is Doing to Our Brains, Nicholas Carr

The Singularity, Dino Buzzati, translated from Italian by Anne Milano Appel

The Slynx, Tatyana Tolstaya, translated from Russian by Jamey Gambrell

Starving Anonymous, Yuu Kuraishi

Such Small Hands, Andrés Barba, translated by Lisa Dillman

Sula, Toni Morrison

The Summer Hikaru Died, Ren Mokumoku, translated by Ajani Oloye

The Thin Man, Dashiell Hammett

Through the Woods, Emily Carroll

Two Old Women, Velma Wallis

What My Bones Know: A Memoir of Healing from Complex Trauma, Stephanie Foo

Witch Hat Atelier, Kamome Shirahama, translated by

The Woman Who Smashed Codes, Jason Fagone

The World Beyond Your Head, Matthew Crawford

[mysmashplaythroughs]

A Dededetour?

So I just uploaded a new post and this time it's actually not a fighter. I decided since I've reached a milestone with having finished all the fighters for Melee, it might be fun to write some posts up for other subjects such as Alt Costumes, Enemies, Bosses and in this case Stages. I don't have a specific amount of these things I've set as a goal, but I want to at least do a few of them before returning to the fighters, mostly as I realise at the speed I'm going at it will be probably years before I reach them otherwise. Since these are different subjects I have had to think more about what sections to have, for example in the latest post for Dream Land I realised a History of the Location rather than Bio worked better and as obviously relationships aren't a thing usually with a landmass (granted not always) going over the inhabitants and the greater location was a better section to do. I have already written up another post for another category and I'm currently working on others, however so as to not leave too big a gap between them I will probably stagger the release of these a bit.

Since I posted off-topic last (well, besides the post gloating about my prediction for Emio which I'm pretty excited for) I have actually beaten a few games, not Tales of Symphonia yet but I played through Pikmin 1-3, Kirby Return to Dream Land Deluxe and Luigi's Mansion 2 HD. With this as I predicted before I've surpassed the number of games I beat in 2023 already. I've also added some more games to the list including one I never expected to do until I saw the recent news, Dead by Daylight. The reason for this is it was recently announced that Dracula from Castlevania was going to be playable as DLC and it made me realise, Dracula's never been playable in his SoTN look. The only games that had him playable are Castlevania Judgement (I know the artist is well respected but I really hate the designs in that game) where he looks pretty different and Lords of Shadow which is really it's own continuity and Dracula is very different in without getting into spoilers. It's due to this I decided Dead by Daylight was actually the best choice for this and luckily I have a fair few friends for once willing to play online with me for it so I won't have to deal with random people online which is great. Also, similarly to adding games from the Codec Conversations in my last post, I scraped even further down into the bottom of the barrel and realised there was something else left to mine, in this case being Event Matches. There wasn't an awful lot in there to really draw from, but I was surprised to find one or two references that were worth noting, including something that lets me add of all things the game Yoshi on NES.

Also, if you're looking at the blog itself, you might have noticed I've changed how it looks a little. I always meant to come up with a better theme and look for the blog but hadn't really decided on what yet, this definitely isn't what I had planned, more me just trying out a different style to see how it looks, I plan on getting a better picture for the header of the blog and deciding on a more fitting look to match up with it, still for now this is the new placeholder I'm going with. I feel like I have a lot more I want to say but can't think of currently, but luckily as it probably won't be that long until I make my next post if I remember in the meantime I should feel justified in making another off-topic post soon to go over it.

[literaredits]

━ emma carstairs headers

like or reblog if you save/use it. ©️ rosecalioway on twitter.