#Modern!Raymond de Merville

[fizzyxcustard]

Betrayal (14)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Crossover of Spooks and Pilgrimage (Modern AU)

Pairings: Lucas North x OC/Raymond de Merville x OC

Warnings: Love triangle. Angst. Language. Sexual references/language. Cheating. Stalking. Some spoilers from season 9. 

Summary: Amy Holland is Lucas North’s girlfriend of six months. Amy is aware of his job as an MI-5 agent and supports him. However, Lucas’ cousin, Raymond de Merville, has always loved Amy and uses their one night stand together as leverage for something more.

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in. I’m gradually removing people from my tag lists who do not interact.

I also want to thank everyone who has stuck with me so far through this fic. I know it’s probably very different from my normal kind of work and it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but your encouragement and support has been amazing, those of you who have shared in this writing journey with me. Again, thank you. 

If you enjoy this fic, please remember that a reblog is always much appreciated and helps us writers out immensely with getting our fics circulated. <3

The journey time on the train from Coventry to Manchester was just over two hours. Every second felt like an eternity for Raymond as he kept hold of Amy's hand. He studied everyone who walked past, excusing themselves up the cramped aisle of the carriage. If Vaughan had been aware of Amy's location and told Lucas, then he obviously had eyes in various places. Between them, Vaughan and Lucas had a number of cards to play which would get them the whereabouts of Raymond and Amy.

"Are you okay?" Raymond asked suddenly, turning to Amy. He noticed that she'd been quiet since boarding the train. He squeezed her hand for emphasis and nudged a little closer to her.

"Yeah," Amy replied in a quiet voice, adding a weak smile. She looked at Raymond and couldn't help but feel something swell inside her chest and stomach, something intense and not quite the same that she had felt with any other partner. It was almost an ache in her gut that spread upward into her chest, a knowing somewhere that this man in front of her was true.

Amy leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Raymond's stubbled cheek. "I'm sorry," she told him.

Raymond cupped her cheek and kissed her small nose. "Don't be sorry, love. There's nothing to be sorry for."

A short while later, about half way into the journey and Raymond brought himself and Amy a coffee each and some chocolate.

He noticed that she had nudged closer and was now sitting with her head on his shoulder. Her could feel her jaw moving against his shoulder, eating a piece of Twix.

Had Amy ever felt like this with Lucas? Content, protected, truly wanted and loved? Perhaps to a certain degree, but nothing like this. There was a longing in Raymond's eyes, a want for love, a yearning. She silently thanked him for not giving up on her, despite all her attempts to push him away. He had always remained in the shadows, waiting to catch her, knowing there would be a fall. Raymond was prepared to watch his cousin fall and succumb to the consequences, but never Amy.

Once the train pulled into Manchester Piccadilly, Raymond and Amy waited for the majority of passengers to disembark first. Then they walked with Raymond in front of Amy, his hand still in hers. His gaze flitted back and forth, checking across the platform, just in case anyone was there who looked suspicious.

***

Manchester Piccadilly was the last place that Raymond had been seen on CCTV. Tariq remained in contact with Lucas, texting him the whereabouts.

"John. Oh, John," Vaughan's manipulative and sly voice came, slithering down the phone line. "I know you want to keep up with that little girlfriend of yours, but our agreement still stands. The Albany file. My advice is that you bring me the file and nothing will happen to Miss Holland. She's in the safe hands of Mr de Merville from what I've been told."

"You fucking bastard!" Lucas spat.

"It seems as if she's taken a liking to your cousin, John. Your position has been filled."

"Fuck you!"

Lucas terminated the call and tossed his phone on the passenger seat of his car. His hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. He needed to get to Amy, to protect her no matter what happened. Surely Vaughan wouldn't stay true to his word; Amy would still suffer.

***

Amy took money from her bank account, accessing an ATM around the corner from a hotel that was just two streets away from the train station. This was now the only access to her money and was traceable. Everything that she and Raymond did was traceable. CCTV, bank account activity, ANPR data; nothing was scared. Every step was identifiable.

"He'll find us, Raymond," Amy said. "You know he will. Lucas is resourceful, clever. He's got the means that we don't have."

Raymond looked up at the towering hotel block which was easily ten floors. "We can't stay at this one now that you've taken money out here. He'll know. We need to walk. Try and get out into the outskirts of the city."

***

Lucas finally made it to Manchester. The sun was disappearing, casting a great shadow on the land. Tariq confirmed that Raymond had last been spotted walking past a department store and was accompanied by an unidentified woman.

He scoured the city, glancing up and down murky backstreets as he walked. Still keeping his phone in hand, checking messages that Tariq sent through. By the time that it turned 7pm, Tariq text that Raymond had not been seen now for an hour and a half. He must have stopped.

Lucas took that last location, following a map on his phone. To everyone around him, he looked like a tourist maybe, someone unsure of their way around. Definitely not someone who was conducting covert activities. Blending in had become second nature.

The last location Raymond had been seen was at a junction, crossing the street and disappearing behind a hedgerow. In that same vicinity were three hotels, all of them approximately half a mile apart.

One by one, Lucas enquired with the clerk at the main desk of the hotels. The only way he would be able to get the information was to introduce himself as security services. And then, at the final hotel, Lucas held up a digital photo of his cousin on his phone, asking the middle aged man on reception if Raymond had been seen.

"Yes, I do believe I've seen him. May I take his name?"

"Raymond de Merville."

"There is no one by that name here," the clerk explained.

"You bastard," Lucas whispered. He was almost certain that Raymond wouldn't be dumb enough to use his real name. "I need to locate him. It's a matter of national emergency. Even if it means going to each room one by one, then it must be done."

"I understand. I believe if my memory serves me correctly that he checked in with a young woman and she was the one who paid."

"Amy Holland?"

The clerk tapped away on his keyboard. "No, I can't find her name. But I believe she was sent up to floor eight."

Lucas would wait however long was necessary and tear every room apart.

***

Amy sat down on the bed, her hands shaking. Raymond was sat across from her in an armchair, his gaze locked on the window. Raindrops were hitting the pane and dripping down, collecting on the ledge.

There was a sudden beep as the door lock activated and opened.

Terror hit Amy square in the chest as she saw Lucas staring at her, his jaw clenched.

***

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[shiinata-library]

Waking up in the Middle Ages [1/14]

Relationships: Raymond x OC

Summary: A modern French girl woke up in the Middle Ages, she was excited about mediaeval things until she realised it was less fun than expected.

On AO3

Note 1: I'm still alive! My life is complicated at the moment, and I have a lot of WIP of Kíli and Bilbo stories, but I'm a bit blocked on it, so I'm moving on to something radically different!

Note 2: the OC is French but the dialogues are in English to make it easier for everyone to understand.

Chapter 1

“Are you a knight?” Sophie, a French petite woman with brown eyes and long wavy chestnut hair, asked when she saw a man wearing armour stopping his tired, heavy steps in front of her. “Your armour is great! Shouldn't you have a horse if you are a knight?”

This very morning, she woke up alone in a cold forest she never knew. It wasn’t the only thing she didn’t know. How did she get here? Why didn't she meet anyone walking all day in this dark forest even in the afternoon? Why was this man dressed like a knight? Plus, he seemed hurt.

“Are you in pain?” she asked as she approached her hand to his bloody neck.

In a violent, quick gesture, he chased her hand. The metal of his gauntlet hurt her and she immediately frowned, stepping closer to him.

“I just wanted to help you! No need to react like that!” she shouted, her anger surpassing her fear at the sight of his face becoming furious. “Can you talk at least, or do you just hit people instead of answering? Even if you can’t talk, you don’t have to be like that! Let me help you.”

This time he grabbed her wrist firmly, very firmly, and his other hand went to the pommel of his sword. Sophie winced at the gradual pain, but she didn’t give up. She sighed as she tried to take back her hand.

“Fine, I won’t touch you. Can I just follow you to the next town? I don’t know where I am so…”

With an angry, haughty gaze, he made a no with his head, then he winced, some blood escaping from his wounded neck, even though it was covered by a piece of cloth. Instinctively, she came closer to him until she saw his furious gaze. Raising her hands in front of him, she apologised and promised she won’t touch him as she stepped back.

Leaving him no choice, she followed him. His steps were determined so she thought he knew where he was going, but when the sun began to set, she seriously started to doubt it.

“Admit you’re as lost as I am…” Sophie said as she was collecting wood to make a fire, which she guessed by seeing him stop walking to collect some.

His only answer was a half-sigh, half-groan. Well, maybe he was tired of hearing her talk all afternoon, but his armour was so intriguing! So detailed, so real! Something was so captivating about him! Next to him, she looked ridiculous with her normal clothes: a black slim jean, a green hoodie, and her sneakers. However, in the middle of the forest, he looked more normal than her.

When the night was totally dark, she was freezing. At first, it seemed a good idea to camp next to a river. She could easily drink or clean her hands, but now the cold prevented her from sleeping. Even the fire he made wasn’t enough. So she waited until he fell asleep to lay down next to him. His armour was less cold than she thought. Maybe it was thanks to the fire. In any case, she ended up sleeping.

The awakening was more brutal than she thought. The sun was barely rising when Sophie felt a nudge in her back. She grumbled as she sat up, rubbing her eyes. The knight looked at her as furiously as the day before.

“I didn’t touch you. I was only cold…” she sighed as she stood up to drink some water.

The first day was fun but if he already started the day by hitting her, she should abandon him. Who wakes someone up like that seriously?

After he put out the fire, Sophie thought the time she would go pee behind a bush he would disappear, but he was still in the same place when she came back. Weird, but something told her it wouldn't be the weirdest thing she would see today. As she was shaking her hands to dry them, her gaze ended up on his wounded neck.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take a look at your injury before we leave? It seems serious. You should clean it, at least with the river’s water, otherwise it will get infected, if it isn't already.”

Her tone was more serious than yesterday because she really started to worry about him. He looked at her for a moment before sitting down as he removed the piece of cloth around his neck.

Well, it was worse than she thought. She wasn't ready for this, plus she hadn't eaten since yesterday, so she almost fainted. The tree next to her was a good support.

Inspire. Exhale. Inspire. Exhale. Inspire… It’ll be fine.

She took his piece of cloth and cleaned it in the river. Then, she walked to him and sat down in front of him.

“Do you want me to try to clean your wound? Just a little. It looks fragile, and I don't want to make it worse.”

He looked at her for a long time motionless. It was hard to understand him with such angry eyes all the time, but she finally understood in his eyes he agreed. She cleaned his wound as best as she could and went to rewash the cloth. After drying it as much as she could, she gave it back. He couldn’t help but wince when he put it back around his neck.

.

Their morning walk was quiet and boring. Like the day before, the forest was the same and her companion was still mute. Could he talk with a neck like that anyway?

Plus she was hungry, so hungry! She would eat anything!

Apples! She ended up finding apple trees! She shouted of joy, startling the man next to her. She climbed a tree as she used to do when she was young, and picked four apples. Once one the ground, she gave two of them to the man.

“Oh, maybe I should cut it into pieces so that you chew as little as possible. Hm, I don’t have a knife. Do you have one?”

He looked at her with an eyebrow raised as he took a knife out of his armour and cut his apple himself. His neck was injured but not his hands. Feeling stupid, she looked away from him as she ate her apples.

Finally, after two new hours of walking, they arrived in front of a castle. Sophie was overexcited to go. 

“Is that a real mediaeval castle? It’s quite developed but it doesn’t look like a renaissance’s one. Oh, I’m so excited to visit it! Are you from there? Are you making a film in it? It looks great! So real! I love mediaeval things!”

A new expression appeared on his face. Another than “I’ll kill you if you touch me” or “Are you stupid?”. Now, it was more “What are you talking about?”, but still angry, of course. Could this man have had any eyes other than angry ones anyway?

As she walked to the castle, Sophie observed everything. The more she approached the castle, the more her good mood faded. Everything looked too real to be a film, and there were no film cameras. Was it real? How was it possible? Did she arrive in a place where people lived in mediaeval times? Like the Amish or is it a multi-day festival where people are in costume?

Everything seemed too real to be a festival. The mud and dirtiness were too real. The first time she saw the knight, he didn’t look clean, while her clothes still smelled of her washing liquid. Speaking of clothes, as she was walking in front of the entrance of the castle, everyone looked at her like a circus freak, yet her clothes were full of dust and her shoes were full of mud… It was true her clothes had nothing to do with theirs, but please, there were even children pointing at her!

Once they passed the drawbridge and entered the castle walls, she wondered if coming to this castle wasn’t a bad idea after all. Perhaps she should find another town, quieter and normal. The only advantage she had was that no one seemed to dare approach the knight. As much as they looked at her strangely, they lowered their eyes when they noticed him and went on their way.

Who was this man to scare so many people? Alright, just his eyes were scary, but there was something. Was it wise to follow him? Wasn't he going to sell her or trade her for food?

A shiver ran through her body but it was too late to turn back as the tall wooden door of what appeared to be the main dwelling of the castle opened before her.

“Sir Raymond de Merville,” a guard started as he bowed.

English wasn’t her native language, but Sophie was used to hearing English and usually understood when a person spoke in that language, but here she only understood a few words like "wait" or "master".

Sir Raymond de Merville as he was named by the guard nodded, then turned to look around with his arms crossed on his chest, visibly irritated. Sophie slowly came closer to him silently and did the same.

Sophie didn’t think a second she could be in another country. All the time she spoke to him, she spoke to him in French. It was surely the reason he never talked to her. She lowered her head, thinking about how much she must have annoyed him.

Yet, Sophie had one particularity. The more scared she was, the more she talked. So she didn't hesitate to try to talk to him again.

“Where are we?” she whispered, still in French, as she looked at the castle. “Why is everyone dressed like in the Middle Ages? Is it a cult? Will you sell me for a sacrifice?”

When she was about to ask him the same thing in English, she heard a small laugh but when she turned toward him, his smile faded. She frowned as she hit him on the arm.

“I’m serious! What makes you laugh?” she grumbled until she saw his eyes becoming angry and his gauntlet cracked as he clenched his fists. “Oh, I’m sorry. I promised I wouldn't touch you…”

For once, she didn’t try to speak again. She remained silent, as if speaking could give him a reason to sell her, or worse. 

When the guard came back, he opened the door and let him enter. Then, the guard’s eyes turned to her, expecting she would say something, but she didn’t know what to say or how to speak to him. His English sounded weird, or rather very old, something she never learned. 

Plus, if she truly was in a place like the Middle Age, anything a woman would say could be used against her, and she didn’t want to die today. Sophie realised she couldn’t speak as she wanted from now. It was already a surprise Sir Raymond de Merville didn’t kill her on the road…

“With me,” she heard in English in a beautiful baritone voice as the knight walked inside.

“Wow, your voice is beautiful!” she whispered to him in French as she joined him, hoping he understood what she said.

His only answer was the usual look “Are you stupid?”, but his eyes were just a little bit less angry than before.

.

In the castle, it was easy to understand who was rich and who was poor. The poor were running everywhere with simple clothes while the rich were just sitting and laughing, dressed in beautiful clothes. As much as Sophie was repulsed by things like people eating with their dirty hands or servants whose feet were so dirty that their toenails were as black as the floor, her eyes couldn't help but be amazed by the architecture and decoration of the castle or the outfits that people wore, both rich and poor.

Speaking of which, Sir Raymond de Merville seemed richer than any other knight. Even from his back, his behaviour and his gait showed he was important. Something she hadn’t noticed when she was in the forest.

The guard led them in a big room, in front of an old man who looked the richest of the castle. Sitting on an armchair behind a table, he stood up when the knight walked toward him. The other people found the plate more interesting than the knight.

“Sir de Merville,” he started as Sophie followed the knight, looking attentively at the old man to understand him. Yet, the only words she understood was “mission” in a way too much police tone.

The knight didn’t wait to answer. His first sentence was easy to understand, “It has nothing to do with you.” He replied in a low, severe voice. The next sentences were talking about “horse” and “room”, but it wasn’t the thing she was attentive to. The knight’s behaviour was still but his tone was harsh. The tension in the room was almost palpable. 

The rich man sighed and called a guard. He spoke to him, ordering him some words, until his look turned to Sophie. His old eyes made her so uncomfortable that she hid behind the knight.

“Please, don’t abandon me…” she whispered as she tried not to touch him. 

Sir de Merville sighed as he moved a little away from her. Sophie’s heart started to pound. Would he really sell her? For a room or a horse? For both? She wasn't even worth either of them at that time in history.

“I’m his healer!” she said in English, with her poor French accent, while her heart was about to explode.

The old rich man burst out laughing, and he wasn’t the only one after her intervention. The whole table laughed at her, men and women alike. One of them almost choked on his wine.

If she knew where to run away, she would leave immediately, but the castle seemed like a labyrinth for her, so she stayed still, looking at the floor until the knight spoke. His words were short but they all stopped to laugh before he firmly took her upper-arm and pulled her to follow him. The old man’s guard followed them as well, showing the way.

.

Once the guard left and a servant brought them something to eat in their room, Sophie could relax. Except the part where they were in a small room, alone, for the whole day and night. Something was different from sleeping outside, but she chased all her thoughts.

Thinking will be for later, now she must eat while she can. As she sat over the table, she tasted some plates, hoping she wouldn’t fall sick afterwards. Some of them were hot, so she ate them quickly, still leaving him a share. The knight removed his gauntlets, sat over the table, and ate in silence. Sophie was almost used to his silence, but now, she had a lot to ask him.

“Sir de Merville,” she started in English. “Thank you for not selling me to this old man. Can you just explain to me where I am?”

He chuckled before resuming his seriousness.

“Speak French. Your French is bad, but your English is worse,” he said in French in his now usual low tone.

His French was also difficult to understand for her, but it was better than English. Hearing him speaking French made her beam.

“You speak French! Then, you could understand me all this time! But your French is bad too, I–” she shouted with joy in French until he glared at her. “Oh, I’m sorry. So, where are we?”

“We’re in Ireland. Now, let me sleep.”

She always wanted to visit Ireland but not in this way…

The discussion seemed close since he stood up and laid down with his armour on the only bed, his back to Sophie. It wasn’t the night, so she wasn’t tired yet. She started to observe the room and touched everything as discreetly as possible, but when she heard the knight groaning, she put the candlestick she was holding on a table. 

Finally, she should sleep. No one could know what will happen tomorrow, so she might as well enjoy the warmth of the fireplace and sleep warmly. She took two covers in a trunk at the end of the bed and made a makeshift bed by the fire, hoping she won't end up full of ashes like Cinderella.

.

The next day, Sophie woke up at the sound of the knight’s armour. She sat up slowly, looking around the room to remember where she was. At the view of the knight, she quickly remembered everything. It wasn’t the kind of man she used to see when she was in her time, or her world. 

The knight was removing his piece of clothes around his neck.

“Hello Raymond, did you sleep well?” she said as she rubbed her eyes until she saw him looking at her with the look “I’ll kill you if you touch me”. “What have I done now? Oh maybe your name? How were people called in the Middle Ages? Not by their first name, it seems. By name? The whole title? I’m not going to call you Sir Raymond de Merville every time. Oh, by the look on your face, I suppose I should.”

He just replied with a sigh as he stood up to clean the piece of clothes in a water’s basin. 

“You really should find a healer to help you,” she said as she stood up and tapped her clothes to remove the dust. “It’s already a miracle you survived with this injury.”

“I don’t have the time for that. I need to live quickly to find a way to go back to France,” he grumbled as he replaced the piece of cloth around his neck.

“Oh! Can I go with you? I want to go home. Please, Sir Raymond de Merville,” she tried. “You will need an assistant, right? Knights always have a… How do you name him? The boy who follows you everywhere to help you.”

“You don’t seem useful at all,” he replied firmly as he put his gauntlets back. 

“Please! I will do anything you want!” she said as she ran to him until you remembered not to touch him. “Please, please, please!”

The knight opened the door and exited the room. Leaving the door open, he waited, looking to the right and left, before sighing “Follow me, but not a single word on the road”.

Sophie had never smiled more than at that moment. She quickly put her covers on the trunk and took her bag with her. 

The sun was barely rising and the wind was cold. According to the leaves of the trees, she had already understood it was the end of summer, and that wasn’t good. Living in the Middle Age was already hard, but in autumn or winter, she wouldn’t survive. Following the knight to France was the better thing to do. Maybe if she went to the place where her home will be hundreds of years from now, she could go to her time. It was the only solution she could find for the moment, so she decided to follow one of the scariest men she has seen in her life. 

Sir Raymond de Merville went directly to the stable. A young boy seemed to recognize him and brought him a horse with everything he needed to ride it.

“I need two,” he said but the boy made a “no” with his head. “It wasn’t a question.”

“I, hm, I don’t know how to ride. I don’t need one,” Sophie timidly said, receiving an annoyed look from the knight. “I can walk.”

The boy’s eyes shifted from Sophie to the knight several times. Without saying anything, the knight took the horse's reins and left the stable. Sophie quickly said a thank-you to the boy before following the man who was already checking the horse. 

After getting on the horse, he held out his hand to Sophie to help her to mount. She managed to get before him not without difficulty. He, who didn't want her to touch him, was now so close that she could feel his breath on her neck. To avoid thinking about it, Sophie concentrated on the landscape. Everything was trees, roads, and small houses. Nothing to do with the cities or even the countryside where she came from.

In the middle of the day, they took a break only to eat apples and let the horse rest. In less than half an hour, they resumed their trip. Sophie remained silent all the time, afraid that he would leave her in the middle of nowhere. Yet, there were so many things she wanted to say or ask! Maybe she could ask quick questions, right?

On the way in a quiet forest, Sophie cleared her throat. 

“What year is it?” she asked, not moving, her gaze still on the landscape.

The knight took his time to answer. Maybe he was in his thoughts, but he finally replied in a sigh: “1209”.

The 13th century, it could have been worse, but it could have been better. Sophie thought of his answers and all that it implied in terms of what she remembered of that period. A long time passed before she asked a new question.

“How long will it take us to get to France?” 

“A month, or two. Depends on the boats.”

Oh, right, boats. 13th century’s boats. It made her think so long that the night was about to fall and the humidity was already beginning to be felt. At least, it hadn't rained since she arrived!

As they dismounted the horse, Sophie understood they would sleep outside tonight, in a small cave. After helping him to gather some wood for the fire, they ate fruits and bread they bought on the way, with his money of course. 

As the first night they spent in the forest, she waited until he fell asleep to lay next to him, and in the morning he gave her the same awakening as the other day. After helping him to clean his neck, they resumed the journey.

Since the first day she arrived in the Middle Age, she wondered how and when she could take a bath. She only washed with the cold water of rivers to the most intimate places or those that could smell. So, she hadn't really washed for 4 days and she hated it. The water from the rivers was always very cold so she hoped they ended up in an inn tonight.

“Do you think we will sleep in an inn tonight?” she finally asked as the sun was high in the cloudy sky.

“Do you have the money for it?” he said, his first words from this morning.

“I could sell some things from my bag,” she answered, shrugging. “I have some objects I’m sure anyone could be interested in. Do you want to see them?”

“No. Don’t move or you will fall,” he said, still looking in front of him, as if she wasn’t here with him. “We will go to an inn when we get to the port.”

“What port?”

“The port to reach England.”

“How long will it take us to–”

“Two days. Now, silence or I leave you here.”

Ireland’s countryside was kind of beautiful, but she didn't want to be abandoned here, so she remained silent. 

Two days passed like the others. The knight bought food when they crossed villages, he made the fire before the night fell, he led the horse... In short, he did everything while Sophie followed him as quietly as possible. A few questions here and there, but nothing compared to the first day of their meeting. Sometimes she even fell asleep on the horse, her back against the rigid chest of the knight.

The afternoon they arrived at a big city with a port, Sophie’s smile came back, and her words returned. She was so excited about everything: Middle Ages port and boats, people, architecture, food, and oh! Maybe a bath?

They directly went to the port to ask when the next boat to England would leave. All the captains he had spoken with told him they would only leave in the morning. They had no choice but to stay in an inn for the night. 

Sophie could hardly hide her smile. 

They got off the horse and she followed him without a word. The knight walked in the city until he stopped to speak to an old man. Sophie didn’t understand what they talked about but she saw the knight giving the reins’ horse to the old man while he gave him a little bag of money. 

Still silent, Sophie followed him to an inn, then to a room. The room was warm and dry. The opposite of all the nights they spent outside. She smiled at the view of a bed and a couch. Such a luxury! She knew in the Middle Age an entire room cost a lot, maybe one third of the price of the horse, so she tried to help him.

“Do you want me to sell some of my things to pay you back for part of the room?”

“No,” he said as he started to remove his gauntlets, then his boots. “Don’t leave the room.”

“But I need to pee…” she sighed

“God! You’re worse than a dog! How many times did we stop during the day?”

He sighed as he saw her silence with a putting face. Sometimes she was testing his patience like a kid and he hated it.

“Go, but do it quickly. I’ll need you.”

“For what?” she shouted, impossible to hide her surprise.

“They will bring a bath, and with my neck, I’ll need you. You said yourself that you would do anything to travel with me.”

For the first time, she saw him laugh, surely because of her reaction. She stepped back a little, trying to compose herself. She had to help him to bathe while she couldn’t even touch him to heal him. She had trouble understanding him, but did she have a choice?

“Alright. I’ll be quick!”

Without delay, she left the room. After finding a discreet place to pee, she went to the marketplace. She was amazed by what she saw. Although the mud and the humidity were everywhere, the villagers seemed to be in a good mood. Sophie found a shop looking like an apothecary and approached it. She asked an old woman to exchange a remedy for her new notebook from her bag. Surprised by the quality of her product, she gave her several ointments and herbs, and then it took her a while to make Sophie understand what they were for. Not to forget anything, she wrote everything down in another notebook.

When she went back to their room, the knight was looking at her with his usual angry eyes. She dropped her things on the table and ran to him. The bath was already in the room while he was always fully dressed.

“I’m sorry! I’ll help you! Stand up.”

With a grunt, he stood up and raised his arms. Sophie had no idea how to remove an armour, so she touched everything until he commanded her all the things she had to do in the right order.

Surprisingly silent, Sophie did perfectly and quickly what he told her. When he was only in very light shirt and trousers, she started to raise the bottom of his shirt, but he quickly grabbed her two wrists. Her eyes raised up to his with incomprehension.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a low voice.

“What? I’m helping you. Don’t you want to take a bath?” she replied, frowning.

“Exactly, I'm going to take a bath. It's fine now, I don't need you anymore,” he said as he let her wrists go.

She looked at him entering the bath with his clothes until she remembered Middle-Age’s people never bathed naked, afraid of the diseases that the water could carry.

Sophie sighed to have missed the opportunity to see him naked. What little she had seen and touched seemed particularly muscular. Too bad.

“Give me the soap,” he ordered once he was laying in the water.

“Can I have a bath as well?” she asked as she fetched him the soap on the table with a hopping smile.

“You don’t need one.”

“Of course I need one!” she said as she crossed her arms on her chest. “I didn’t wash for days! My clothes are dirty from sleeping on the floor and I didn't even have the time to wash them! I’m sure I stink! I need a bath!”

“You don’t stink…” he loudly sighed. “Give me time to finish my bath in silence and the water should still be warm when I'm done.”

With a big smile, Sophie nodded. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than the icy river water.

Leaving him to bathe in silence, Sophie observed and touched everything in the room, just like the time she had stayed in the castle. Some objects were so strange for her that she couldn’t know what they were used for. 

Focusing on a small object on the table, she jumped when he stood up in his bath and ordered her to bring him his towel. Or a dry piece of cloth called a towel.

She reacted quickly as he walked in front of the fireplace, his clothes dripping. After she gave his towel, she returned to her object, trying to focus on it while the knight’s wet clothes fit his whole body very perfectly.

Once he was dry, she had to help him to get dressed. The faster she went, the faster she could take her bath, so she hurried. Once he was fully dressed, she asked him to sit on a chair.

“Why?”

“Because I bought an ointment to heal your neck. Don’t move, I will apply it to your clean wound,” she said as she got the ointment from her bag and put it on the table before turning to him.

“You will do nothing!” he said in a low voice as he took her wrist firmly.

“You're hurting me,” she only said with eyes as angry as his own. “Just sit down. I won’t kill you! Why would I want to kill the only person who helped me? Just–”

His grip became even firmer and Sophie squinted. Not wanting to leave him without care, she insisted.

“I just want to help you because you helped me.”

She didn't know if it was the tone of her voice, her determined eyes, or her words that convinced him, but the knight ended up sitting in a chair without moving. Sitting in front of him, she applied the ointment with delicacy. Once she finished, she noticed his gaze. Something had changed. It was 5% less angry than before, or maybe 10%!

Sophie stood up, smiling.

“It's over! I leave you free! You can go wherever you want when I take my bath.”

“Wherever? I paid for this room, I won’t leave this room.”

“W-what? I don't want you to see me naked! Go out! I’ll be quick!”

The knight tried to stay but Sophie insisted so much, with so many endless words, that he preferred to leave.

Once she was alone, she could remove her clothes and enjoy the bath, now lukewarm. The soap didn't have a smell but it seemed to work well despite the water being dirty from the previous washing. All traces of dirt under her fingers were gone and her hair seemed much lighter and fresher.

When she finally felt clean, she stood up and grabbed a dry towel. Fortunately, they had several of them! Out of the bath, she wrapped a towel around her and took another to dry her hair. She walked to the fireplace, hoping she would dry quickly. But she didn’t dry as quickly as she thought., and when she heard the door open, she instinctively turned towards the noise, seeing the knight enter. She froze while he entered as if nothing happened.

“Hurry up and get dressed, it's almost time for dinner. You–” he started while he was closing the door, then he finally looked at her. “Why are you naked?”

It was the first time she saw his surprised eyes. He ran a hand over his face before taking a step toward her. 

“You’re a woman?” he said in front of her, his eyes still full of surprise.

She wanted to step back but the fireplace prevented her. With her towel wrapped around her, her feminine forms were more visible than in her clothes. She never told him she was a woman, but for her, it was obvious.

“Of course, I’m a woman,” she said as she restarted to dry her hair. “No need to come closer to see it. Wait, did you think I was a man?”

“You wear trousers, of course I thought you were a man!” he shouted. “A young man, more like. Where do you come from to be a woman and wear trousers? Do you know that it is the death punishment for women who do so?”

Sophie had totally forgotten that she was wearing trousers. It was so normal for her. She felt stupid, and she didn’t want to die. 

“I never wanted to lie to you,” she said shyly as her eyes looked down. “I thought you knew. I–”

“Leave!”

“W-what?” she tried to say.

“I understand why you said you will do everything to follow me now,” he said more coldly than ever before.

“No! This has nothing to do with I'm a woman!” she shouted, as much shocked as disappointed. “I really offered to help you! I never thought–”

“I don't give a shit, get out of my room!”

His last sentence was so cold and so aggressive, like a bark, that Sophie couldn’t say anything more. She remained quiet as she got dressed while he was looking through the window.

Her hair still wet, she took her bag but put all her ointments on the table with the explanations’ page. Focus outside, the knight didn’t react when she talked to him last night.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Sir de Merville. I hope you have a safe journey to France.”

As she closed the door behind her, she wiped the few tears she couldn't contain. Frustration, anger, disappointment, and sadness were eating her away from the inside, but the worst part was the hunger that had already started several hours before.

This story is now longer than I planned so I'll only post it on AO3.

>> The second chapter

[lathalea]

The Devil and the Witch

Dear diary, today I was a very bad girl and instead of writing clean fluff like any other proper author would as request for their friend 🤭, I ended up with several thousand words of filthy smut. Whoops! ;) @fizzyxcustard I hope you'll forgive me for the smut instead of angst 🤭😈😏

Fandom: Pilgrimage (2017) Relationships: Raymond de Merville x Witch!Reader Rating: E (18+) Author's notes: Smut, filthy smut, and rough Raymond. I played kink bingo when I wrote it. Kink list: slight dubcon (if you squint), semi-public sex, praise kink, sexual denial, dirty talking, size kink, beard kink, unprotected intercourse

Proceed at your own discretion.

Special thanks to @linasofia and @legolasbadass for encouraging me to post this fic, you she-devils! 😈😈😈

The Devil and the Witch

In the fairytales you read as a child, witches were always old and creepy. They had rotten teeth, hooked noses, and claw-like nails. A proper witch had a broom and a mandatory black cat, too. You were different: your teeth were in a much better condition (thanks, Colgate), you were definitely younger and your nails looked cute with that translucent nail polish. No brooms nor cats around – you were allergic both to cleaning and cat hair. Perhaps you weren’t the very model of a mediaeval Irish witch, but you were doing your best.

What was an allergy-prone, toothpaste-loving girl like you doing in a place like mediaeval Ireland? The answer was simple: you had no idea. It was the 21st century when you visited the Green Island for a vacation. When walking around the ruins of an ancient castle, you slipped into a mysterious narrow stone passage and followed it, but when you finally reached the exit on its other end, you found yourself in a mediaeval village, 800 years before your time, with no way of returning. 

An elderly woman named Dubheasa found you. She recognized that you were not of her world – she called herself a seer, but the locals called her “the Witch”. She offered you to stay with her at the edge of the forest and you accepted her invitation, having nowhere else to go. It turned out that she was a kindhearted person with a great knowledge of herbs and natural remedies. She took you under her wing and taught you all that she knew. That was five years ago.

Now you were the Witch. Dubheasa passed away last winter, leaving her trade to you. The locals, even though they were still distrustful of you, visited you often to seek help in their ailments, to ask for advice or solutions to their problems. You weren’t as skilled with the herbs as your predecessor, at least not yet, but your 21st century knowledge made up for it quite well. The life you lead suited you. Somehow, you didn’t miss the pollution, the city noises, and the stress of modern life. Plus, this place had knights. Real, fierce knights wearing armours that perhaps weren’t too shiny, but those virile men had swords, horses, banners, and everything else a knight should have.

There was one knight who ticked all your boxes. The Devil. That’s how the locals called him and the first time you looked at him made you think that this moniker fitted him more than well. He was tall and dark as the devil himself, ha had devilishly handsome features accentuated by a scar on his cheekbone, and his steel gaze made you think of the flames of hell. His powerful, broad shoulders, his physique of a warrior, his bearing – everything about him exuded raw male power. There were tales of his fierceness in battle, of his bloodlust and cruelty, and yet you felt drawn to the Devil like a moth to a flame. You tried to deny it, but it was the truth. 

His name was Raymond, the only son of baron de Merville, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him whenever you saw him at the castle, as he passed through the village on his dun horse or rode out with his men. You would catch a glimpse of him many times only to find that he was staring straight into your eyes with that intense gaze of his. After several such occurrences, you learned to be more careful. The last thing you wanted was for him to think you were some harlot, a loose woman. Proper maidens modestly averted their gaze whenever a man looked at them. They certainly didn’t ogle handsome knights like the Devil and they surely never thought about how it would feel to kiss him, how his beard would feel brushing against the skin of your breasts, what a beast he surely was in bed and whether Mother Nature blessed him not only with large hands but also with other sizeable appendages. Okay, you weren’t perhaps a very proper maiden, but you tried very hard to blend in. And so you visited the nearby village and castle from time to time, selling herbal tinctures and other products. If luck was on your side, you sometimes saw Raymond training in the courtyard, muscles bulging under his linen shirt, and those images gave you quite a few pleasant dreams during your lonely nights.

One day, as you were at the far edge of your garden, taking water from the well, a group of soldiers on horses stopped in front of your house. You frowned – only the local villagers visited you, never the soldiers nor the finer folk from the castle. And never Raymond de Merville himself. You swallowed, seeing him dismounting his horse. This wasn’t yet another of your steamy dreams. Raymond was truly here, entering your garden and approaching you swiftly, after ordering his soldiers to wait for him.

“So you are the Witch,” the Devil eyed you from head to toe with a dangerous glint in his eye. “I’m afraid so. And you are the famous Devil,” you made a pale imitation of a curtsy. You weren’t one for courtesies. “Sir Raymond de Merville to you, lass,” he grunted with a frown. This was a different time and one word of a temperamental noble could make you hang in a blink of an eye. You were too fond of your neck for such activities as hanging, so you played along.

“Of course, Sir Raymond,” you corrected yourself. “What brings you to my humble abode, my lord?”

“You, Witch,” his frown deepened as he spat these two words. 

“Well then, how can I help?” you put the bucket filled with fresh water on the ground.

“This has been continuing for far too long. You will release me from your spell at once!” Sir Raymond commanded you.

“I’m sorry but… what? What spell are you talking about?” Now it was your turn to frown but then you hastily added the customary title, “my lord.”

“I am speaking of the spell that you cast on me! I saw you lay your eyes on me that day during the fair. Since that day I can barely think of anything else,” he grunted, taking a stride towards you, his chainmail clinking. “I see you everywhere I look! You sneak into my dreams! The vision of you haunts me every waking moment. Your hair, your face, your…” Raymond shook his head and fell silent.

Were you hallucinating? 

“Remove your spell from my person with haste!” Raymond de Merville’s gloved hand rested on the pommel of his impressive sword.

Uh oh. Am angry man and a sharp blade. You lived for too long in this time to know how it usually ended. Although… what was that thing he said about your hair…?

“I don’t know where you came to this conclusion, but I have not used any spells on you. You have my word for it. I don’t even know how to use magic!” you shrugged, trying to play cool and telling your brain to shut up and ignore his words. The Devil was extremely alluring, especially from this close, but it was clear that he must have spent too much time riding in the sun or something to say such things about you of all people.

“Do not lie to me, Witch! I do not know why you are tormenting me so, but you need to stop it! I am ordering you!” Raymond fumed, his nostrils flaring dangerously. He was even more formidable when he stood before you like this, with his strong frame, thick, dark beard, and eyes sharp as the hardest steel.

“Do as I say or there will be consequences,” he added coldly, muscles dancing on his clenched jaw.

“Allow me to repeat myself, my lord. I do not put spells on people, I have more important things to do,” you retorted, taking the water bucket from the ground. “And now excuse me while I go about my business. The animals need to be watered. Have a good day, Sir Raymond.”

With these words, you turned your back to him and walked behind your house towards the barn. The door to the wooden building stood open before you when you heard heavy footsteps behind you. Sighing wearily, you adjusted the grip on the bucket’s carrying handle and turned around, ready to face the Devil again.

It all happened in a blink of an eye. He closed the distance between you with a smirk on his devilishly handsome face, ice-blue fire burning in his gaze. He covered your hand with his and the water bucket fell on the ground with a thunk and a splash.

“A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t carry such weights,” he half-spoke, half-growled, lowering his face towards yours. Raymond towered over you; he was even taller and more robust from up close and emanated some kind of powerful energy that made you freeze in place, all your witty remarks suddenly forgotten.

“What happened to your sharp tongue, Witch?” He lifted your chin with his hand. His gloved fingers felt coarse, almost unpleasantly so against your face. “Not so eager to oppose me now, are we?”

“I told you already, I put no spells over you! I am innocent!” you managed to utter, avoiding his piercing gaze, ignoring the emotions his closeness woke in you. This rough devil of a man with his rough manners oozed danger and you realised that he, the baron’s son, didn’t take well to disobedient subjects.

“Are you now?” His words made you think of a growl of a feral beast and he bared his teeth in a mocking smile. “There is only one way to find out.” Before you knew it, he pulled you close and covered your lips with his. Raymond kissed you as if he were a hungry wolf and you were his prey. You forgot to breathe. A faint cry of surprise left your throat but his mouth was taking possession of yours, demanding everything from you and more, conquering, his tongue brashly exploring  your mouth. He was insatiable to the point of making you dizzy. All the coherent thoughts left your brain, there was only the scraping of his luscious beard against your soft skin, his teeth grazing your lips, his palm splayed across your back, pressing you hard against his torso. “Well, well, well, who would have thought? You don’t kiss like an innocent maid at all,” his growl filled your ears. Contrary to your expectations, this was not a growl of disappointment.

“I never said I was an innocent maid,” you offered, thankful for the support his arms gave you. And speaking of who would have thought – who would have thought that a kiss from a knight would leave you not only breathless but also weak in the knees?

“You have never looked like one to me,” he caught your lower lip between his and then staked out a trail of wet kisses towards the side of your neck, leaving your skin on fire. “I saw you many a time. Your eyes are too hungry. Perhaps you are not a witch after all, but a common wench.”

Your heart skipped a beat. He has definitely noticed all the surreptitious glances you cast at him whenever you saw him. And here you were, thinking you were careful.

“I don’t know what… what you mean,” you sighed faintly when Raymond’s hand tilted your head to the side and his scorching lips assaulted a sensitive spot on your neck. He knew what he was doing to you.

“You don’t know?” he rasped out, facing you again, his darkened eyes set on your lips. “No…” you swallowed, hoping he hadn’t noticed more. This man was like a hot spark on a heap of dry firewood. And you wanted to burn. Badly.

“Then let me show you,” without any warning, he pressed his lips to yours and then swiftly took a step forward, still pressing you into him.

Your back slammed against the barn wall, driving the air out of your lungs. You were squashed between the wooden plank and his powerful body, your breasts helplessly flattened against the metal links of his chainmail, and the only thing you could think of was his lips and his beard violating your lips and every piece of uncovered skin without mercy. “What…?” you started faintly, but then he wedged his knee between your legs and his inquisitive lips returned to your neck. You were supposed to protest at this kind of harsh treatment, most women probably would in your place, but his ministrations made molten lava flow through your veins. Nothing, not even the kisses of your long-time ex from your time made you feel this way.

That was when Raymond’s hands started roaming your body. One rested on your hip while the other quickly found its way to your right breast and closed over it rapidly. A stifled yelp escaped you. A rumbling chuckle filled his chest at the same time as his powerful thigh moved slightly upwards, pressing against that special place at the juncture of your thighs and stoking the liquid fire inside you. You fisted his tunic instinctively, unable to ignore the heat pooling between your legs.

“You are enjoying this as much as I am, wench,” he rasped into your skin while lips travelled across your shoulder and down your cleavage, his prickly beard burning a new trail on your skin. “I can feel it.”

“Raymond, I…” you spoke dazedly.

“Sir Raymond, wench,” he pressed harder against you, lifting your chin to meet his demanding gaze. “Understood?”

“Yes, Sir Raymond,” you took a deep breath, overwhelmed at the sensations this commanding man woke in you.

“That’s a good wench,” he leaned in, kissing you hard and this time you answered with a matching fervour, your tongues fighting for domination in a duel of lust. Your fingers ran through the short hair on the back of his head. Raymond hummed low and grinded his thigh against the most sensitive part of your body, kindling the flames of desire inside you even more. His hand found its way into your chemise, pulling it down with one swift move. You heard the sound of ripping fabric and a whiff of cool air danced on the skin of your suddenly exposed breasts, a wave of arousal washing over you at his bold move. He was so unlike the men you had known in the modern times. You couldn’t imagine a man tearing a modern bra off you like this. Life in the 13th century taught you to dress like women of that time in Ireland. A long chemise was enough – panties and bras were a thing of the future.

Raymond’s greedy gaze rested on your newly uncovered skin and you saw how his tongue licked his upper lip.

“What have we here…?” His mouth covered the pebbled tip of your breast while he rolled the other nipple between his gloved fingers, making you arch your neck and whimper. You wondered how many marks he would leave on your skin once he was done with you.

“Look at you, wench, so eager,” he murmured against your breast with a smirk. That was when you realised that you pressed yourself into his thigh at a slightly different angle, moving your hips to the rhythm of his ministrations.

“Kiss me,” you managed to reply, feeling the familiar feeling growing between your legs, but then his thigh disappeared. You whimpered in protest and lifted your eyes at him.

“Are you ordering your liege?” his scarred face made you think of a cursed demon straight from the deepest pits of hell, hints of anger darkening his eyes.

You shook your head and a wicked little smile danced on your lips, “I need you to kiss me, Sir Raymond. Please, my lord?” 

“That was better, wench. Do not forget yourself again,” not waiting for your reply, he pulled off his glove with his teeth and then gave you another rough, insatiable kiss, crushing your lips with his.

A large, hot hand found its way under your skirts. It moved against your skin almost all the way to your hip and then cupped your uncovered mound. His fingers brushed against your folds teasingly, back and forth, making you let out a moan. 

“Your quim is as wet as the sea, wench,” he grinned. “Do you know what it means?”

Panting, you said, holding on to his arm, “Will you tell me, Sir Raymond?”

His lips brushed against your earlobe when his raspy voice found its way to your very core, “I’m going to plough you senseless.”

The heat deep inside you ached at the Devil’s words as you bucked against his hand, making him chortle triumphantly. You turned your head to kiss him, but his hands covered your bottom and hoisted you to his height. With a giggle, you wrapped your arms around his neck and felt his groin against you as you wrapped your uncovered legs around him, your skirts bundled up around your waist. Raymond’s hand dove between you, its back brushing against your moist folds and soon you felt something very hot and hard pressing at your entrance.

“Are you going to… oh… plough me senseless now, Sir Raymond?” you met his steel eyes, your lips skimming against his lightly. 

“Only if you are a good little wench,” his gaze sharpened immediately and a smirk appeared on his face. Raymond pushed hard into you, filling you instantly to the brim, stretching you deliciously. You were barely able to adjust to his size. Were all the mediaeval knights so well-endowed?

“You… You’re so… huge,” you gasped, barely able to form a full sentence.

“And you will take every single inch of me,” he murmured, never taking his eyes off your face, and then plunged deep inside you with one long thrust until he was seated to the hilt. “All of it.”

You gave out a lengthy moan and heard a horse neighing. Biting on your lower lip, you suddenly recalled the soldiers waiting for their lord on the road. And then he thrusted again, making you repeat your moan.

“We can’t do this,” you whimpered, holding on to him. “Your men…”

He slammed into you before you could finish the sentence, making you cry out with pleasure even louder than before.

“My men will wait until I’m done with you, wench,” Raymond pressed his forehead against yours. You felt every single of his words deep inside you, as deep as his powerful hardness delved into you, throbbing against the velvet of your inner walls. Another movement of his hips. Another intense stroke. Another one of your moans. He was conquering you, body and soul, one thrust at a time. “But they will… please, oh, they will hear…” you muttered as the next thrust hoisted you higher against the barn wall, delivering a new wave of pleasure.

“Let them hear your moaning, wench,” he rammed into you harder, making you see stars under your closed eyelids. “Let them know how well you are serving their lord.”

He repeated his movements, slowly but forcefully,  a sweet, intense sensation forming in your lower belly. “Please, oh, Raymond…” you whimpered, bracing yourself for yet another hard thrust that would send you one step closer to ecstasy.

It didn’t come. Your eyelids fluttered open, meeting the Devil’s cold stare. He wasn’t moving.

“What did you say, wench?” the Devil growled, holding you trapped between his chest and the wall.

“Raymond…” you mumbled, recalling the rules of this dangerous game. “Forgive me, Sir Raymond, I forgot myself.” You clenched around his hardness, making him let out a groan. He felt large, almost too large for you, but at the same he fit perfectly inside you, a sensation you have never felt before with any other man. A lightest of shivers ran through your body, a herald of more intense pleasure to come. “I have told you not to forget yourself, have I not, wench?” he spat out the words while his fingers fondled your breast roughly, pinching your nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger.

“Please,” you whimpered, clenching around him again and trying to move your hips on your own. You ached for him to move inside you, you wanted this man badly, you craved for the rapture only he was capable of giving you. “I need more of you.”

“And yet you said we couldn’t do this,” he rolled his hips against you, grinding into your sensitive nub, making you whimper again. Then his gloved hand moved to your neck, caressing it slowly and then closing around it, but allowed you to breathe, thick leather bruising your delicate skin. When he spoke again, his voice seemed to be full of anger or some similar emotion as he spoke slowly. “You have disappointed me, wench.”

“Sir Raymond… Please, my lord… I am very close,” you pleaded. At that moment, you would have said anything, promised everything, just to make him thrust into your wanton heat again, trapped in the hell of your own lust and hunger for him.

“First you need to learn your lesson,” the Devil’s piercing gaze rested on you, making you shudder as you once again felt the roughness of his glove on your neck. “If you wish me to continue, you will do as your liege commands. Do you understand?” “I do, Sir Raymond,” you whispered.

“You will not come until I tell you to. I want to have my way with you first. Will you be a good little wench and obey me?”

“I will do as you say, Sir Raymond,” you heard yourself say and then his hand moved away from your neck, lifting one of your legs under your knee and resting it against his shoulder.

You felt much less in control in this position, much more open and vulnerable, and yet the thrill of what was to come made you ignore your doubts.

“That’s a good wench,” he growled and baring his teeth, he suddenly pounded into you, delving even deeper inside you than before, at a new angle. And then he repeated his motions, once, twice, thrice, more, until you lost the count. You were sure that your loud, frantic moans were heard by the soldiers, but you didn’t care at this point. With your back arched your hips meeting Raymond’s hardness with each stroke, you couldn’t think about anything else than him covering your body with his, claiming every single inch of your body with his bold, powerful thrusts.

“See now? Very good. This is how a good wench takes his liege,” Raymond grunted into the crook of your neck, his beard bristling against the sensitive skin of your throat. “You do it so well. I may get used to your tight little quim.”

Everything he did, his rough caresses, his thrusts, each of them faster and more intense than the one before, made you balance at the edge of pure ecstasy, clinging to him, begging him for release.

“Do not dare to come, wench,” the Devil ordered in a low growl. “I am not done with you yet.”

“So close…” you mumbled through your swollen lips, your body shivering in anticipation, on the verge of bliss. You were losing the last shreds of control over your own body. “Please, my lord, let me come…”

Raymond grabbed your arms that encircled his neck moments before and lifted them, pinning your wrists with ease against the wall above your head.

“I said no! Not until I allow you to, wench,” he warned you and thrust swiftly inside you, making the barn wall wobble dangerously.

He made you think of a relentless machine, of a powerful engine going continuously, without mercy, pummeling into you mercilessly. Your moans turned into helpless mewling, your hips bucked and your body began to tremble again while Raymond’s movements became erratic, every single of them bringing you closer to completion.

“Not yet, wench,” he rasped again, squeezing your tender bottom. Waves of pleasure washed over you with each of his thrusts and you did not know where he ended and you began any longer. 

Raymond rammed into you with a series of short, final thrusts that went straight to the core of your being, and as he groaned, you felt a wave of heat spill inside you. That was what sent you over the edge and the bliss consumed you whole with the intensity of a supernova. Darkness claimed you and you could only feel his strong arms around you and your raspy breaths intermingling.

An eternity passed when you came to. You lay in your bed but didn’t remember getting there at all. Raymond lay by your side, resting on his elbow and observing you closely like a hawk. He wore only his undershirt and trousers, his weapon and armour no longer shielding his strong body. It was dark outside and only a faint light of a candle made the room somewhat brighter.

“What happened?” you sighed, feeling the sweet soreness between your legs.

“I am beginning to believe that you may be a witch after all. But I found a way to break your spell,” the Devil smirked, the darkness of his beard accentuated by the white of his teeth.

“Have you, Sir Raymond? What is it?”

“Disciplining you, thoroughly,” the Devil offered, cold steel flames igniting in his gaze.

“Me?” you batted your eyelashes in mocked innocence.

“You were a very bad wench, were you not?” he smirked, brushing his fingers against your cheek. “You came without my leave. Now I will have to punish you for it.”

Without a pause, Raymond leaned over you and gave you a rough kiss that told you everything you wanted to know. You were definitely looking forward to the punishment administered by the Devil himself.

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[linasofia]

Bunnelê

Armitage Summer Splash #12

Trope: Oblivious of feelings

Quote: “How dare you!”

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader x Raymond de Merville (Modern AU)

Words: 2,8K

Warnings: 18+

@lathalea @legolasbadass I don’t know if I should thank you or blame you right now. 😈

It all happens so quickly. The shock wave from the explosion throws me backwards and I fall helplessly to the ground. My back takes most of the impact but I can't stop my head from mercilessly hitting the ground. I gasp for air as my lungs press hard against my ribs. Black smoke fills the air and I cough as I try to breathe. With an increasing feeling of surrealness, I stare at the burning car beside me. I can hear shouting from the distance growing louder and more frightening, but my body feels heavy and refuses to move. The sharp sound of sirens cut through the air. Iron shoes on four-legged beasts, galloping on wet asphalt and snorting heavily. Commanding voices in the air, demanding full obedience. I can’t keep my eyes open and the pulsating feeling at my temples slowly fades away together with my consciousness.

Someone is calling my name. A dark, rich voice finds its way through the massive wall of shouting and noises around me and just hearing the familiar sound calms me a little. It’s a voice that I usually hear outside my café, spoken in a much softer tone than the roar that suddenly erupts from his chest as he turns to command his partner. When I open my eyes, it takes a while for my eyes to adjust, but then I see him. At first, I do not recognize him due to the full riot gear he wears, including a helmet with a thick visor and some sort of extra vest for protection that makes his chest look even broader than usual. He shields me from everything else when he leans over me, blocking the sun that creates a halo around his helmet. His gloved hand rests lightly on my forehead and when he speaks my name again, I answer with his: ”Thorin.”

”I’m here. You need to go to the hospital. You’re bleeding.”

I try to sit up but he gently holds me down. ”Stay down, Raymond is getting an ambulance for you. They will decide how to move you. I don’t want to make your injury worse by making unqualified decisions. For now, you’re safe just where you are.”

”I’m sure it's fine, Thorin.” I try to smile but I feel my dry lips crack as I move them. His concern for me makes me all warm inside. Over the last months, Thorin and Raymond have been regular visitors at my café, when on duty. On warm days I have given both riders and horses water to drink and on colder days they always buy coffee. They seem inseparable and in a way, I envy the strong bond they must have, both to each other and to their horses. To put your own life in danger, to help others in need, surely it must form their character and bring out their greatest sides. My temple is hurting and Thorin adds pressure to it.

When I hear the echoing noise of hooves against the asphalt again, I slowly turn my face towards the sound. I see the big black stallion, Hades, standing just a few meters away from me. In his saddle, as always, sits Thorin’s partner, Raymond. From this distance and with his visor down, I can’t really tell it’s him, but I would always recognize Hades, even now in riot gear, just like the officer on his back.

Flashing blue lights suddenly reflect in Thorin’s visor and soon a medical team surrounds me. Thorin hovers by my side but not until one of the angels from the ambulance team says, in a sharp tone, that they have the situation under control, does he mount his horse Electra again. The chestnut mare shakes her head impatiently and it almost looks like she tries to tell her master what a jerk he is. The evening is far from over and they are needed elsewhere, can’t he see that? The last thing I see before the ambulance door closes is the back of two officers riding to join their colleagues.

I don’t like sleeping at the hospital. Thankfully I have very little experience of it, but a broken arm from a riding accident as a young girl still awakes some memories as I stare at the white sterile ceiling. I’m very grateful that I got my own room, and when the doctor told me that he wanted to keep me overnight for monitoring, I accepted. I needed a couple of stitches and I suffered from a concussion. It makes me dizzy and at times I feel really sick. When sleep finally claims my body, I welcome it with open arms, feeling utterly exhausted.

The room is dark, only illuminated by large chandeliers and a few lanterns that cast flickering shadows on the walls. No windows or doors let the light inside but the air still feels pleasant. In the middle of the room stands a bed, robust with a wooden frame. At the foot of the bed stand two men, wearing nothing but their own gloriously tanned skin. They are about the same height, broad shoulders, well-sculptured bodies and the only difference between them is the amount of hair on their chests. One of them has been blessed with more and when he shifts, the light reveals the grey strands gracing his dark chest hair. The other man is a little less hairy but his hair creates the most inviting trail over his stomach. The soft enormous bed, neatly made with finest Egyptian cotton sheets, moves as the two men slowly crawl from the opposite corners towards me like predators, but I don’t feel like I’m in any danger. I still don’t see their faces but somehow I already know.

With a hammering heart I wait for them in bed, silently lying on my back. When I feel their warm bodies against mine, I briefly close my eyes and take a deep breath. One of them gently pulls at my shoulder so I come to rest on the side and when I open my eyes again, I meet Thorin’s burning gaze. He gently strokes my cheek and when he speaks, his usual commanding and deep voice is now raspy and it fills my body with irresistible need. Behind me, I feel the other man position himself close to me, place his hand on my waist and squeeze the soft flesh. When he greets me, I smile to myself. Raymond’s voice, smooth as velvet but dark as the sea, is filled with lust, matching my own desire that is rapidly building in my body.

Thorin leans in and covers my lips with his before I can even think of a proper response to them. Our kiss starts as a tender one, but soon his hunger takes over and his tongue slips between my lips. The sensual dance he leads me into is filled with emotions and not only the passionate and raw kind. Raymond’s hand doesn’t stay on my waist for long, and his hands glide over my skin as if he tried to map my body, fueling my desire. He nibbles at my shoulder and when Thorin suddenly breaks the kiss, I feel Raymond’s teeth scrape against my skin. His beard is soft and I find it more than arousing when he drags his jaw along my shoulder. I whimper as his grip on me tightens. With a swift move Raymond rolls me over to face him and the darkness in his eyes makes me gasp. He doesn’t follow Thorin’s gentle start, instead he greedily rolls his tongue against mine and steals my breath away. I feel Thorin peppering my neck with wet kisses, his short stubble is rough on my skin, while his hand caresses my hip and moves along my thigh. I burn under his touch as he gently lifts my leg and places it over Raymond’s thigh. Then, as Raymond continues to kiss me deeply, I feel Thorin advance to explore the sensitive parts between my thighs. When his fingers trace my soft and slick skin and find my little bundle of nerves, I moan into Raymond’s mouth, making both men even more eager. With one hand Raymond catches my wrist and pulls it over my head. His other hand seeks the softness of my breast, teasing me by running his fingers around its outer lines and over my ribs, making me shiver under his touch. My soft plea for more is silenced by Thorin who slips one of his thick fingers between my folds. I hear him groan appreciatively against my neck as he works his fingers to pleasure me.

As soon as my breathing becomes uneven, Thorin intensifies his efforts and I pant his name while I feel the orgasm building in my core. He answers me with a moan as I clench around his fingers and the world around me temporarily disappears as I float in the warm stream of lust washing over me. Thorin slowly withdraws his fingers, leaving me with a feeling of emptiness. My body aches for him, for both of them, for more of everything they might offer. Raymond releases my arm and I roll over to face Thorin.

“I need you,” I whisper, my voice still needy and unsteady. Thorin’s azure eyes are burning and without a word he grabs my leg, lifts it so he can position himself in the best possible way and with his gaze fixed on mine, he enters me. Even if he is slow and gentle, I struggle with his size. Raymond’s raspy “Good girl” as Thorin reaches the bottom, buried deep inside me, sends a wave of heat through my body and I grip Thorin’s upper arm tightly. His muscles are firm, like the strong neck of his loyal horse and while Thorin gives me time to adjust to him, Raymond trails my spine up and down with his long fingers. It helps me relax my body and shortly after Thorin finally rocks his hips against mine, causing a throaty moan to escape my mouth.

The steady rhythm Thorin sets soon makes me see stars. I can tell he likes to watch me by the way he follows every shift in my facial expressions closely. While Thorin is more focused on my physical pleasure, Raymond seems determined to drive me crazy with his words alone. The way he speaks his praises is like pouring fuel on an open fire. Teasingly, he circles the roundness of my bum with his hands, gently squeezing my flesh and spreading my cheeks, exposing the split to him. When he presses a finger against me I can’t stop my body from arching against him. His voice drops to a low register that must have been made for female pleasures only. With a groan he asks for my consent and when I give it, he creates the most heavenly feeling with his long finger. He mirrors Thorin’s pace and it fills me with a desire stronger than the gravity of the earth. I don’t recognize my own voice when I beg him for more.

Raymond puts his hand on my leg, rasps my name and with a resolute move he adjusts my position to his advantage. His grip is firm, just enough to let me know how he wants me and in that moment Thorin slows down, allowing Raymond to put the bulky top of his member over my rear entrance. I’m being pulled towards the inevitable and all I manage is to cry out my desperation for them.

My own cry wakes me from my dream but I silence as soon as the morning light seeping from the small gap between the blinds hits me right in the eyes. Someone is speaking my name from a distance but I don’t understand why. I slam my arm against the bars on the hospital bed as I try to move away from the merciless light.

”Please be careful so you don’t hurt yourself.” That voice again, so dark and alluring. I meet the cerulean eyes of the man standing beside the bed. He looks strangely familiar. The shape and color of his eyes, the patrician nose and his dark beard. I let out a small gasp of disbelief. He resembles both Thorin and Raymond so much, they could easily be brothers. I blink a few times. Is this a trick of my damaged brain? The man is dressed in a shirt with the collar open and over that he wears a white coat. I glance at the name tag and then back at Dr White’s face.

”How do you feel? You were tossing in your bed and due to your injury, the nurse got worried. It’s not unusual to suffer from nightmares.”

”I’m ok.” I feel heat spread over my cheeks at the thought of Dr White hearing my cries. I can’t deal with the embarrassment but I try to convince myself that he seems to interpret it as something totally different. Dr White keeps asking a few more questions but I’m too tired and delusional to answer them properly. He leaves me after a while and I close my eyes as he shuts the door. I need to rest. And I feel nauseous.

A week later I’m back at the café, serving guests and making sandwiches as usual. The street still bears traces of the tumult that escalated into a riot after the big game last week. The visiting team’s supporters decided to take out their anger over their loss in the city center. The glass is swept away, some broken windows have already been replaced and even the car that exploded next to me is gone. Only the marks it left on the asphalt tell the story of the violence that occurred.

Just after lunch hour, when things are slowing down again, I hear the sound of hooves coming from outside. The door is wide open and the city noise mixes with the occasional sounds coming from the espresso machine. My heart picks up speed. I always enjoy meeting the city’s finest patrolling police officers, but today I feel more nervous than before. As usual I can’t resist the temptation so I walk over to the door and greet them.

”How do you feel, bunnelê?” Raymond asks, his French accent covering his words like mist covers the meadow on a crispy summer morning.

”How dare you?” Thorin snears at him. ”How dare you call her that? You have no right!” I can hear the anger in his voice and I wonder what Raymond’s words really mean.

”Since you don’t have the courage to use it, I might as well do it.” Raymond grins at him and Thorin shoots him an icy stare that is impossible to miss. I can almost see his blood boiling in his veins.

”I feel ok now. Still tired but nothing else. Thank you both for helping me.” I quickly answer with a grateful smile.

”Should you not rest longer? I can’t imagine the doctor's approval of you already working.” Thorin sounds concerned, the anger in his voice is gone and he looks intensely at me.

”I don’t have time to rest anymore. I can’t keep the café closed for so long. It’s not good for business. And Sarah can’t help me more than she already does.”

Raymond shakes his head. ”You’re not very obedient, are you?” Something in the way he says the word obedient brings back memories from my dream, and I blush. I can’t look either of them in the eyes without exposing myself, so instead, I turn my attention to Hades and Electra.

”Shall I get the bucket for them? They look warm.”

”I’m sure they are. Please, if it’s not too much trouble.” Thorin answers and gives Electra a tender stroke over her neck. Her chestnut coat shines like a ruby in the sun. I nod and go back inside to fill the bucket with water. In the kitchen, while the water splutters down in the bucket, I think of Thorin’s reaction to Raymond’s foreign word. It didn’t sound French. Over the last weeks I have noticed a small change in Thorin. He seems to be increasingly concerned for my well-being and while Raymond is more direct and has a habit of speaking without a filter between his mouth and brain, Thorin is getting more and more thoughtful and attentive to my reaction. It confuses me greatly but also feels very right.

When the bucket is finally filled, I carry it outside. The street is empty, my four-legged guests have disappeared together with their riders and I can’t help feeling a sting of disappointment in my heart. I put the bucket down and go back inside to serve a new guest. With their kind of job, you never know what to expect. But I have a feeling they will return later. The thought makes me warm and I shine together with the sun as I smile at the young woman on the other side of the counter. Today is a very good day.

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Taglist and others who might be interested: @lathalea @legolasbadass @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @laurfilijames @enchantzz @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo @mariannetora @s0ftd3m0n @haly-reads @sunnysidesidra

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[middleearthpixie]

Magic Kingdom

Armitage Summer Splash #30 ! Well, I did it. 30 prompts, 30 days and now I need a nap. I blame want to thank @lathalea & @fizzyxcustard for my exhaustion this challenge! 🤣🤣

And so, for the last time...

Trope: Pirates 

Quote: “It meant nothing to me.”

RA Character: Raymond de Merville (Modern AU)

Relationship: Raymond x Fem!Reader

Warnings: pure fluff

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,725

***

The sun blazed down on you and Raymond as you stood in what had to be the slowest-moving line ever. Florida in August was not the happiest place on earth, no matter what the Mouse promised. 

Still, when you looked over at Raymond and saw him just gazing about at everything, just drinking it all in, you felt your annoyance fade a little. He was still adjusting to your time and DisneyWorld was nothing like the thirteenth-century, which was where he was from. So, for him, standing there, not really moving, wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It gave him the chance to observe, to see how everyday people in your time lived, the gadgets they used, the things they complained about—to him, these things were interesting to see and to hear. More than once, he’d expressed fascination as well as dismay with how people in your time conducted themselves day to day, and DisneyWorld was just a microcosm of twenty-first century daily life.

He turned away from the couple he’d been observing, each one oblivious to the other, their concentration focused on the cell phones each one held, and frowned. “Do the lines always move so slowly?”

His deep voice washed over you, and as the time went on, you found you understood  his English far better now than you had in the beginning. He still spoke with a heavy French accent, which at times made his English kind of amusing to you, but you’d adapted to hearing him, to understanding him despite that accent. The French he spoke was a little different from what you’d learned in high school, although you’d be the first to admit languages weren’t your strong suit, and you were learning that as well. And truth be told, there was something powerfully erotic about hearing him whisper to you in French when he made love to you, which made learning it a bit easier as well. You might not always understood what he said, but you certainly liked how he said it. And the blush that swept up from the edges of his dark beard when you asked him to translate his love words when the sex was over and you were lying quietly in his arms made it all worthwhile. There was something utterly adorable about seeing your fierce, thirteenth century knight blush at telling you he’d called you his beautiful flower in the throes of passion.  

You nodded. “You’ll see. This one is actually blazing along compared to some of the others.”

“Blazing?” Confusion clouded in his pale blue eyes. 

You smiled. “It’s moving fast compared to others.”

His dark brows rose. “Moving fast? This? I think not.”

“Trust me. It is.” You passed him the water you’d bought before getting into line. “Here. You look like you need it.”

He looked down at the bottle, already beaded with condensation. “But you were thirsty.”

“I’m fine. You need it more than I do.”

He shook his head. “No. You keep it. I’m fine.”

“Raymond… just take the water. I can get more if we need it.”

The line moved a bit closer to the actual ride. Pirates of the Caribbean. It was one of your favorites and you hoped he wasn’t too overwhelmed with everything. It was your first day in the park, and he’d already been a bit freaked out by the life-sized characters he’d seen wandering about, not to mention the frustration he’d had when It’s a Small World got stuck in his head and he learned the definition of earworm. 

You tried to play it cool, but you really were excited about sharing this with him. DisneyWorld was your favorite place to vacation, Pirates was one of your favorite rides, and you hoped he’d like it, that he’d fall in love with it just as much as you had. So far, the crowds seemed to be the only part he didn’t care for—not that it came as a surprise. More than once, he muttered something under his breath about wishing he hadn’t left his sword at home. He’d put up a fight about that, until you convinced him that not only would he not be allowed to bring a sword on a plane, but the TSA would probably have him arrested on the spot for trying. Probably not true, but better to let him think otherwise and leave the damn sword at home.

He sighed as he took the bottle and drained half of it in one swallow. “How much longer?”

“I have no idea.”

“Stay here.” He passed the bottle back to you. “I’ll find more water for us.”

“The vendor is right there,” you told him pointedly, gesturing to the kiosk near where the line for Pirates began. “Don’t wander off. I don’t want to lose you.”

He smiled and leaned over to brush your lips with a quick kiss. “I won’t become lost. I found my way from France to Ireland and back and without that GPS thing.”

“Yeah, yeah. You also got lost in Costco, remember?”

He scowled. “Everything looks the same in Costco.”

“But trees all look different?” You winked at him. “Just be careful.”

“Always, ma chêrie.”

You smiled, holding back your chuckle as he maneuvered his way out of line by simply stepping over the chains set up to shuttle you all through like cattle. By the time he returned, you’d moved all of ten feet. But, you were in the shade and that was what mattered, as it was far cooler under that awning. 

“And,” he pressed a fresh bottle of water into your hand, “I did not get lost.”

As he spoke, he draped his free arm about your neck and gave you a gentle squeeze, pressing you back into his chest. You sank against him for a brief moment, enjoyed the feel of his muscled body against yours, but then the heat and humidity reminded you why you hated August in Florida and you straightened up. 

Both bottles were empty by the time you were inside the building housing the ride and a few minutes later, you climbed into your car. The air was cool and damp from all the water flooding the ride, meant to recreate what being on the Caribbean ocean was like in the Golden Age of Piracy. Compared to outside, it was almost freezing. Especially with the fine layer of sweat misting your skin. You shivered, leaning your head against Raymond’s muscle-laden shoulder, smiling when he pressed a kiss into the top of your head and murmured, “Je t’aime, madame.”

You slipped your arm through his and squeezed as you began moving. He rarely said I love you in English and that was fine, since it sounded far prettier in French. “I love you, too, you know.”

“I do.” He jumped at the sound of a cannon being fired, then laughed as he said, “I think I prefer being on land to being a pirate.”

“Same. But, it’s cool in here, so there’s that.”

“True. I’m unaccustomed to this heat. It’s worse than at home.”

“A bit.” You smiled even though he couldn’t see it. “Home? My home or yours?”

“Yes, home. And both, I suppose, but I meant yours.”

You squeezed his arm again and settled against him to enjoy the ride. When it was over and you found yourselves in the gift shop. You turned to Raymond. “What did you think?”

He shrugged. “I like being in the dark with you.”

“That’s it?”

“It was… interesting…” He reached out to pluck a set of rubber manacles off a rack. “Perhaps we might find a use for these?”

You bit back a smile as a woman passing alongside him with a toddler shot him a look of disapproval. He saw it as well and grinned. “I think she finds fault with my sense of humor.”

“Now her son is going to ask her what you meant,” you told him, taking the manacles from him. “Besides, you’d tear these if I tried to slide them over your hands.”

“You go first, then.”

As he said it, he leaned over and kissed you. “And I know it seems like it meant nothing to me, but I did enjoy the ride. And I did enjoy being in the dark with you. Are there any other rides in the dark we could try?”

“Space Mountain. It’s a roller coaster. I think you’d like it.”

He nodded. “I like the sound of this so far.” 

You slipped your hand into his and made your way out of the shop. Raymond’s thumb grazed yours and then he brought your hand up to brush the back of it with a kiss. “And where is Space Mountain?”

“That’s in this park. And with any luck, the line won’t be too long.”

“Shall we go there, then?”

“If that’s what you want, that’s fine.”

He gave your hand a squeeze. “You’re very agreeable, you know.”

“It’s your first time here, so whatever you want, that’s what we’ll do.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want.”

“So,” he paused and moved to stand before you, “if I wanted you to marry me, you’d do it?”

You just stared up at him. “What?”

His eyes softened, a grin playing at his lips, and he rubbed along his bearded jaw with one hand. “Would you marry me?”

“Are you serious?”

He nodded slowly. “I would not ask if I wasn’t, you know. So, will you?”

You couldn't help your smile. “Raymond.”

“What?” He drew you into his arms, smiling down as he said, “Veux-tu m’épouser? Is that better? Shall I get down on one knee as we saw that man do near the entrance earlier?”

You shook your head. “No. The last thing I want is to be a spectacle. But, are you really asking me to marry you?”

“Love, how long have I been here? Almost a year now? Think you I’d ask if I wasn't really asking?”

“I know, but—” You just gazed up at him for a long moment, then smiled. “Of course I will.”

His arms tighten about your waist and he lifted you easily to meet his slow, leisurely kiss. As he lowered you, he whispered, “I have but one more question, love?”

“What’s that?”

“Do they have pizza here?”

***

Thank you all for reading and commenting and reblogging. I 💜 you all for it!!

Like it? Love it? If so, please love it, leave a comment, reblog it, or do all three! 💜💜💜

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @ggfamert @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78

[sorisooyaa]

Moodboard / Banner / Blend Masterlist

ARMITAGE SUMMER SPLASH HOSTED BY @lathalea AND @fizzyxcustard

WEEK 1:

Enemies to Lovers - Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader

Lathalea’s Post

WEEK 2:

A Secret is Found Out -  Thorin x OC (Diamonds and Ashes | Raelynn Adair story)

Coffee Shop - Daniel Miller x Fem!Reader

Kidnapped - Raymond De Merville x Fem!OC

Crossover - Thorin Oakenshield x Eternal!OC

Oblivious Of Feelings - Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Comfort - John Thornton x Fem!Reader

Lies - Thorin Oakenshield and Fëanor

WEEK 3:

Arranged Marriage - Raymond De Merville x Fem!OC

Love Triangle - Ray Levine x Fem!OC x Cassie

Illness - Dr. Scott White x Fem!OC

Angel/Demon - Modern!Dragon Sickness!Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!OC

Matching Tattoos - Francis Dolarhyde x Fem!OC

Werewolf/Vampire - Vampire!Thorin Oakenshield x Werewolf!Fem!Reader

Body Swap - Thorin Oakenshield and Thranduil / Thorin x Wife!Reader

WEEK 4:

Break Up - Lucas North x Fem!OC

Time Travel - Raymond De Merville x Reader /  Father!Raymond De Merville x daughter!ofc

Accident - Francis Dolarhyde x Reader

Birthday - Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Proposal - Dr. Mikhail Astrov x Fem!OC

Looming Anniversary - Thorin Oakenshield x Wife!Reader

Be Careful What You Wish For - Modern!Dragon Sickness!Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!OC

WEEK 5:

Vacation/Holiday - Modern!Thorin Oakenshield x Wife!Reader

Pirates - Thorin Oakenshield x Mermaid!Reader

Thank you for the likes, comments and reblogs 💖

[knittastically]

Bring Me To Life 4

Chapter 4 Heart Song

On a windswept beach in Ireland,  Raymond de Merville  faced his destiny and mastered it.

Not sure where this is going, whether I even like it, or if I will continue but here we go!

Pairing 13th C Raymond/ Modern Raymond x ofc, Sister Matilda and Carrie Hart

Characters Raymond de Merville, Lay Sister Ina, Sister Matilda, Abbess Eithne, Prioress Emma, Harry Bellamy, Carrie Hart. Lorraine Tyson

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My Very Small Tag List

@fizzyxcustard​   @lathalea  @vaneaustation

Ao3

Chapter 1  Chapter2  Chapter 3

Sister Ina dumped the pails of water down so hard some of their contents slopped onto the floor, soaked the hem of Sister Matilda’s habit and pooled around her sandaled feet darkening the floor boards. It was deliberate of course, a small sign of her irritation at having to fetch and carry for the novice; later she would make sure the girl knew just how annoyed she was. Matilda appeared not to notice and smiled over her shoulder mouthing “Thank you”  as Abbess Eithene puffing slightly, hauled her single pail into the room.

“I’m sorry Sieur Raymond but this water will be icy cold, it’s straight from the well.”  Matilda frowned and wrinkled her nose as Raymond crooked a weary smiled and whispered,

“I’m a soldier girl, it won’t be anything I’m not used to.”

She dipped a clean cloth into one of the pails, squeezed it and began to wipe more of the gore from Raymonds body, finishing by cleaning his arms and rubbing at the dried discoloured blood on his large calloused hands, though she couldn’t shift all of what had settled under and around his fingernails. Taking another cloth she handed it to him flushing slightly as her glance flicked down briefly to his now covered loins and back up to his face “You must finish Sieur it would not be.. well you understand.”

Raymond reached out slowly and carefully to take hold of her hand. Ina watched him closely through slightly narrowed eyes, new Mangeurs Sang craved human blood above all else, and it wouldn’t matter that he had already fed. It would be so easy for him to clamp his mouth to her wrist before Matilda could realise what was happening. Ina could sense that the girl trusted him completely, she couldn’t smell even the faintest scent of fear seeping from her. 

There was a gentleness in Raymonds look as his eyes softened to a Marian blue in the lantern light, though as he bowed his head, Ina still held her breath and readied herself. Raymond simply pressed his lips gently against the girls wrist and felt her heart beat more quickly as her pulse quickened beneath them. “You have been kind to a monster Sister and you have a tender heart, thank you.” He couldn’t remember when he had last spoken so softly to a woman but he must have been a very young man. There was no place for them now other than the occasional whore with a pretty face and a willing body or even an unwilling one. He was a soldier, that was his whole life, one which was lived according to the doctrine of kill or be killed. The distraction of a wife and family or mistress was something he neither needed nor wanted. He’d meant what he said though and Matilda knew it from the look he gave her. She was so taken aback that she simply nodded in reply then turned her back on him. Ina and the Abbess saw the brightness in her eyes as she fought to stop her tears falling.

“Come with me Sister.” The Abbess touched her on the shoulder then swept past and  headed out of the room, head bowed the novice followed her.

“Sister Matilda.” Ina called to her and the novice looked back, she needed to be brought back to earth. “Take those and get rid of them.” As she pointed to the carcasses on the floor behind Raymond, she saw annoyance and a little defiance flare and flash green and gold fire in Matilda’s eyes, before the novice stomped behind Raymond, grabbed them up in both hands and followed Reverend Mother down the stairs.

“It seems you have made a conquest Sieur Raymond but I must have an assurance that you have no intention of corrupting the girl….in any way; I will not allow it.”  As she glared at him he raised his head, his eyes swiftly darkened from blue to black, his upper lip twitched as he let out a low snarl.

“She has shown me kindness and compassion, there’s been little of that in my life.” He gave wry smile then bowed his head as he thought back to the only woman who had ever treated him with such tenderness, but she was long dead. “If you wish it, then I will make that promise to you, I swear she will come to no harm from me, now leave me be.” As he began to wash the dried blood from his thighs Ina nodded at the cloth draped over him and she smirked raising one eyebrow.

“Is that to spare your blushes, or Sister Matilda’s?” Raymond gave her a foul look “Do you need to ask, a farmers daughter she may be, but she is an innocent.” “And you know that for sure do you?”

“I know.”  

Ina realised he was becoming his new self much faster than she had expected, his senses were sharpening. In a short time she would not be strong enough contain or best him in any way.  Mangeurs Sang who drained the blood of their own sires were rare and she had heard they were exceptionally strong, with senses that were even more heighten than hers. As each day passed Raymond would be more sure of his capabilities and it unnerved her, but she would never let her mask slip.

As she turned to look out of the small window towards the Abbey she saw only a few pin pricks of light flickering inside the buildings. Autumn was drawing near and the nights were starting to turn cooler; Ina wondered again how much longer she would be able to stay here. Of all her “lives” over four hundred years, this was the one she had truly settled to, the peace and gentle rhythm of the days suited her, it was the one life she would be truly sad to leave. With a heavy heart she turned back to Raymond.

“Tomorrow I’ll find some clothes for you Mon Sieur, but you must still remain in the guest house no matter what. I know your Father professes to be a pious man and he would want to give his son a Christian burial so it’s likely he still has men searching for your body.

“My Father’s piety is a nothing more than a convenient cloak to be pulled tight or flung aside when it suits his purpose.” He spat out at her.

“Nevertheless you must do as I ask and, remember I can compel you, tomorrow your lessons begin and at dusk I will take you hunting.

Raymond slung the bloodstained cloth into the pail, shrugged and rose to his feet letting the piece of linen cloth fall to the floor. The light from the lanterns cast a soft glow over his body, giving his damp skin a subtle sheen and accentuating the curves and dips of his muscles. A warriors body, long, lean and hardened by battle and training, his flesh peppered with scars and bruises the marks of his trade; some were years old and faded to silvery lines, others were still livid and fresh. As for the wound at his neck, that had all but healed into a ragged oval of new flesh. Rapid healing being one of many benefits to being a Mangeur Sang.

Completely unembarrassed, Sister Ina cocked her head to one side and swept her gaze up from his feet to his face, pausing only once….midway. “Impressive Sieur Raymond, though the effect is completely lost on me.” As if deep in thought, he poked his tongue between his lips, then smiled.

“Such a pity, Soeur, I don’t doubt your habit hides many wonderful secrets.”  

“And secrets they'll remain Mon Sieur, at least to you, my tastes run in an entirely different direction.” She gave him the tightest of smiles, then picked up the cloth he'd let drop, dunked it into the last pail of clean water and flung it at him. “Clean up your mess.” She pointed to the blood spatters where the carcasses had laid. “Then you must rest.”  She gathered up soiled cloths, the two other pails of blood tinted water and made her way out of the chamber.

Carrie tried and failed to stifle another yawn behind her hand. She’d given up her objections to the expensive bottle of wine and as she drank, became more animated about the festival and Raymonds involvement.  Elbow propped on the table, chin resting in his hand he listened intently a soft smile on his face as he enjoyed her infectious enthusiasm, the cadence of her voice, glow of her hair and the soft green, gold sparkle in her eyes.

“I have to tell you though Prof, I feel like I’m sailing under false colours where your books are concerned.”

“Really, why?”

As he took a drink of wine Carrie found it hard to pull her gaze from his mouth. The shape of his lips as he parted them and set them against the glass, made her shiver and not with cold. She blinked rapidly and looked away.

“Well, I haven’t actually read a single one of your books right through, though I’ve tried.” She chewed nervously at her bottom lip, waiting for his response.

He tilted his head back and a rich, throaty chuckle bubbled up from his chest. “Well I promise not to hold that against you, especially as I imagine you’re among the thousands; though I’m curious to know what stops you.” He’d dropped his voice a little, not only did it swirl around her smoothing away her nerves, it made her feel as if she was the most important person in his world and a fierce tingle rippled through her body, then settled deep in the pit of her stomach.

“So tell me those deepest darkest reasons of yours”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Okay, well, here goes bugger all.” She took a quick gulp of wine, then coughed and spluttered as it went down the wrong way. Raymond poured a glass of water and pushed it towards her but she shook her head and shot him a slightly embarrassed grin; returning the smile to encourage her he watched as she nervously twisted a thick strand of hair between her fingers, he wanted more than anything to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight.

“Do you write mostly for other academics Prof?” He wrestled his mind back to the now.

“Generally yes, though I’d like to think that the books you’re talking about would appeal to most people with an interest in history. Anything I write for purely academic scrutiny is a hell of a lot drier and dustier, trust me you’d probably die of boredom before the end of the first paragraph, they damned near drive me insane.”

It surprised her that he seemed so flippant about his work, the professor was showing a side she’d never expected and as she finished her wine he offered to pour her more, without a thought she pushed her glass towards him.

“With some of your books  I’ve managed a couple of chapters, with others only a few pages, one or two I’ve almost made it to half way and that’s it. Sorry Prof but they actually,” she searched for the words. “They scare me.” She couldn’t quite look at him, but let her gaze slide past and looked nervously around the room, only Lorraine and one other committee member were left chatting at the bar.

“They scare you?” He spoke quietly. She heard the concern in his voice and saw it in the furrows on his forehead as he frowned.

“Okay, they unnerve me then, I get the oddest feeling you’ve actually experienced everything you write about. I know a good book should be able to transport a reader to anywhere, but.." Her voice trailed away and Carrie couldn’t meet his eyes and as she stared down at the table she yawned again. “I’m sorry Prof, I really should go home.” For some reason she’d taken to calling him that rather than Raymond, from anyone else he would have found it damned annoying, but not from Carrie.

“You haven’t finished your wine,” He waved his hand towards her glass.

“I know, it really is as delicious as I remember, but if I drink any more I’ll be snoring under the table in no time flat. As she pressed her hands against the table and pushed herself up, she giggled, unsure if was wine, fatigue or both that made her lurch forward slightly. “Whoops”  She wobbled again as she yanked her coat from the back of her chair. Raymond stood and swallowed down the last of his wine to hide his smile.

“It’s a been a pleasure to meet you Prof.” She shot out her hand and as he took hold gently, she thought of the phrase “cool hands, warm heart,” and wondered if it applied to him, he seemed reluctant to let go and slid his fingers away slowly. “Thanks again for offering to let us use your home, I have a feeling it’ll probably be the most popular venue of the festival.” As she shrugged herself into her coat and plonked her ugly hat on her head, a waiter appeared from nowhere to place a leather bill holder on the table. Raymond flipped over the cover; murmured something to the young man, who punched the amount into the reader, set it on the table and stepped back as Raymond slid his credit card into the machine and entered his code. By the time he had slipped his card back into his wallet Carrie was still trying and failing to tuck her unruly hair under her hat.

“Oh Fuck it!” She spat, jamming the knitted monstrosity hard down until it met her eyebrows making her look like a dormouse peering out. Raymond flattened his lips to stop a smile.

“Thanks again Prof, are you able to call into the bookshop tomorrow say around 10.30, Sally will be in by then and can look after the shop while talk about the timetable and what arrangements you need for any security.

“Of course, and we can continue our other conversation too, I said I was interested in your thoughts and I meant it.’ She had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t going to let that subject drop any time soon.

Carrie fiddled with her jacket zip and smiled up at him. “Okay it’s a deal, but only if you bring me coffee and cannoli from Marco’s, he knows what I like.”

"Agreed" His smile was wide, generous, and reached his eyes which glowed dark sapphire in the dim lighting. “Would you mind if I walked with you, my car is on the far side of the market place.”

“Sure, I’ll wait while you get your coat.”

He laughed. “No coat, I was in such a rush I left it in the car, sometimes I definitely am that absent minded professor!”

They headed to the door and suddenly Lorraine was there grabbing the handle.  Carrie blinked and swore under her breath; how the hell had Lollie managed to get in front of them?  

“Good night both, Carrie I’d like to meet with you tomorrow morning, my place at 10 am.”

“Sorry Lorraine, prior engagement so no can do.” Carrie hiccoughed,  grinned at Raymond and winked.

“You’d better “do”” Lorraine snapped back “If you want to hang on to this post with the festival.”

Before Carrie could answer Raymond cut in. “That won’t be possible Lorraine, I’ve arranged to meet with Carrie at 10.30.” His French accent became more pronounced and his eyes darkened, “What’s the saying, first come first served,  I’m afraid you’ll have to wait your turn.”

Carrie was sure Lorraine actually hissed at him but she also seemed to shrink back a little.

“Make sure you call me when you’re done.” snapped at Carrie then tugged her wrap around her and left, letting the door shut with a mighty slam.

“She never changes, always Lorraine’s way, or no way.” Carrie grumbled.

Raymond silently agreed, he knew Lorraine’s personality and faults only too well.

As she stepped up into the street, the cold air slapped Carrie in the face and fought with the alcohol. She wobbled again smacking into the wall.  

“Are you all right?" she felt Raymond’s hand at the small of her back, it seemed oddly comforting.

“Oh Hell yes, it’s just this pavement is lethal.” She breathed in and took a few seconds to steady herself knowing full well that the slippy pavement wasn’t completely to blame for her lack of balance.

“Right Prof, lets go.” Raymond let his hand drop away from her back, flexed his fingers slightly and positioned himself to her right, a preventative measure in case she should slither off the kerb and slam face first into the road. Despite not wearing a coat, the biting cold and fast falling snow didn’t seem to bother Raymond in the least as they walked towards the market place. Carrie managed to keep her focus and footwork reasonably steady, until the moment she stepped onto the snow slicked cobbles and her feet shot from beneath her again. Strong fingers grabbed her upper arm and stopped her from crashing arse first onto the uneven surface.

“Thanks, that was close.” She giggled.

Raymond smiled at her, it wasn’t the smile of an indulgent uncle.

“Perhaps It would be a good idea to step onto the pavement, I’m not sure you’ll make it in one piece if we keep to the cobbles.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure Prof, I’ll be fine I’m wearing my magic boots.” She grabbed his arm to steady herself lifted her right foot and waggled it from side to side, the silver coloured leather shimmering under the street light. “Look they sparkle like fairy dust.” While the small sober part of her brain stomped in with “Jesus Carrie, how old are you, act your age not your bloody shoe size.” The drunk side silently sniggered and gave her the finger. She was a lost cause.

“Yes, well unless they can help you fly, I seriously doubt that.”  He smiled again and, this time, rather than keep hold of her arm, he slipped his palm against hers and curled his long fingers gently around her hand. “Let’s see if I can get you home in one piece, I don’t think the wine and the cold air have mixed well for you.” They walked on in silence, the market place was almost empty except for half a dozen cars and the last few diehards picking their way carefully through the settling snow towards home or the late night buses. Raymond escorted her under the deep, wide archway next to the bookshop and as she scrabbled for her keys she suddenly stared at him.

“Oh Bloody hell, I’ve  waltzed out of the restaurant without paying for the Champagne Lorraine ordered, I’ll have to go back and sort it out.” Carrie dropped the keys back into her bag and stepped past Raymond, all six foot something of black clad handsomeness standing in the swirling snow.

“I shouldn’t think you’ll have much success, most of the staff will have left by now and I’ve no doubt David and his chef will be having a well earned rest and a glass of wine. Why not call them tomorrow, perhaps Lorraine paid after all.”

Carrie snorted “And that Prof, is a Gloucester Old Spot pig flying past your left ear, you seem to have a better opinion of Lorraine than I do.”  

“I thought I’d give her the benefit of the doubt.”

There was no sarcasm in his voice and no wry smile “You Raymond are a nice man.” She swayed forward a little.

The combination of her actually saying his name and tentatively laying her hand against his bearded cheek made his naturally slow heart thud a little faster.

“You’ll freeze if you stand out here much longer Ché… Carrie.” He rapidly corrected himself as he gently lifted her hand away from his face, pressed his lips against the back of it then flashed her a smile. "Go and get into the warmth.” He let his hands rested gently on her shoulders and leant in to kiss one cheek then the other. “Bonne nuit Carrie, jusqu'à demain. His voice deepened as he spoke, and that same tingle settled in her belly again.  

“Would you like to come in for a night cap?” She suddenly felt shy and a little embarrassed at asking him.

He almost said yes, almost.

“Thank you, but you look shattered, and I should make for home before the weather worsens, that road can be treacherous and It’ll likely be snowing heavens high up there. His eyes were silver blue in the shine from the security light, and Carrie knew that what they expressed gave the lie to his polite refusal, but she didn’t push it.

‘’You’re right Prof, I’m dog tired, I’ll see you in the morning and thanks for everything .” He huffed a laugh, he was “Prof” again,  he status quo had been re-established.  Carrie fumbled to unlock the door then hesitated on the top step, turned,  grinned and blew him a cheeky kiss before scuttling inside.

He stood perfectly still, large soft flakes of snow settling on his hair and the shoulders of his black sweater. It wasn’t until his heightened sense of hearing picked out the click of the lock being dropped and the sound of Carrie shushing the dogs, that he turned and made his way across the small courtyard. Stopping just under the archway he stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and leant back against the wall; he would wait for the security light to time out before he left. Suddenly he lifted his chin a little and sniffed at the cold air like a wolf scenting prey and, as he peeled himself away from the wall, he felt his sweater snag and catch on the rough stones.

“You have a most distinctive scent when you’re pissed off Lorraine; dank hedgerows, vinegar, burning rubber and,” he added for good measure. “You make more noise than a rampaging heifer.” Of course that last part wasn’t true, Lorraine was noiseless when she was tracking someone or something, but Raymond wasn’t about to flatter her. He turned to face the entrance to the archway just as Lorraine, high heels clacking on the pavement, stepped into view. He shook his head slightly, unlike most vampires who tried at least to blend in with humans, that wasn’t her style. She loved to be noticed and the sight of her coatless, wearing a figure hugging midnight blue dress and vertiginous heels in this weather, would have definitely attracted attention. There was a time when the sight of her curves and seductive smile would have exited and aroused Raymond, but that time had long since past.

In a blink, she had covered the distance to where he stood. He let out a low grunt as she pinned him against the wall slamming her hands hard against his chest, before sliding them up over his soft cashmere sweater to let them rest on his shoulders. “How disappointing for you that Carrie didn't invite you in for coffee.”

He shrugged, “Your hearing is as acute as mine Lorraine, so you know full well that she did, and that I declined the invitation."

“Not able to trust yourself with your rustic little baggage my darling?”

“My self control has never been an issue, as well you know and Carrie isn't my rustic anything, even so she has far better manners than you, you hell cat.”

In her Louboutin's, Lorraine was easily 5’10’’ and only had to tilt her head a little to look into his eyes. Raymond was unmoved, and returned her sultry look with a cool glare, staring into hazel eyes which had once held such promise. The coldness of his expression made Lorraine shudder. Undeterred she lifted on her tiptoes and as she spoke cupped his face with long elegant fingers.  “Pauvre Raymond, bewitched by yet another red haired, green eyed beauty; forget her, what we had was exceptional and it could be again.” She brushed her mouth against his, teased his lips with her tongue, kissed at his top lip, sucked in his lower raking it with her teeth. Suddenly she thrust her right hand between them laying her palm along the length of his fly as she shoved her thigh between his. There was no reaction from him, not the merest twitch of his lips... nor of anything else.

As he speared his own hand between them he saw her eyes widen with anticipation. Grabbing at her wrist Raymond yanked her hand away, spun her around and slammed her hard back against the wall. Her eyes glittered with lust as he wrenched her arms above her head and she smiled, lips slightly parted, waiting for the kiss that never came. Catching both her slender wrists in the vicious grip of his left hand, he settled the long fingers of his right around her throat, with just enough pressure to keep her attention focused on his voice.  “I have nothing else to give you Lorraine, nothing."

She snarled, then laughed softly as she hitched her right leg high, wrapping it around his hip pulling him in towards her. “Those years are hardly any time at all for creatures like us, I won’t give up on you Raymond.” Lorraine’s voice was soft and smokey now. “How can you throw yourself at yet another pale imitation of a long dead love.” Her demeanour changed, she looked feral, hungry for him. “You may be done Raymond my love, but I’m not.” Her voice caught a little as he increased the pressure on her windpipe.

“Don’t press me too hard Lorraine.” He growled, his breath ghosting against her ear. “We are finished, almost four hundred years of you is enough, too much in fact. I’ll admit I owe you a great deal and it’s only because of that debt that I’ve suffered you for so long, but the debt is paid in full so don’t cross me.” His eyes darkened almost to black, as he curled his upper lip back from his teeth and snarled. Lorraine had incredible strength, as did all of their kind, but she knew she couldn’t match him and he saw fear flash in her eyes as he lowered his mouth towards her neck. Lorraine held her breath as he snapped his teeth together millimetres away from her skin.

“Never forget Bitch, I could be rid of you very easily.” His voice rasped, his words heavily accented with the French he generally took care to hide. “Be very careful” He whispered and felt her stiffen with fear.

Dogs checked, and in the hope of staving off any hangover Carrie had washed down a couple of painkillers with a pint of water then refilled the glass to take upstairs. She never closed the sitting room curtains in the evening and as she made for the stairs she glanced towards the courtyard. Narrowing her eyes and stepping closer to the window she peered around the edge of the curtain, squinting to focus through the swirling snow. sure that she had seen something or some one in the shadows.  

“Well, well, not so straight laced after all Prof” she smirked at what she took to be an intensely passionate moment, not knowing how wide of the mark she was.  Watching as Raymond dipped his head, she saw the woman he had restrained against the wall turn her face to the right and stare straight at the window, her lips drawn back, a look of savage desire on her face.  It was Lorraine! A wave of jealousy vibrated through Carrie who was sure she’d been seen and stepped back quickly into the darkness of the room.

“Don’t be daft.” She spoke out loud to herself and any of the dogs who cared to hear. “He’s a grown man, a bloody gorgeous and sexy grown man, but he’s not a monk for fuck’s sake.” Had anyone told her, that she'd be smitten after her first meeting with the redoubtable, reclusive and by all accounts rather cantankerous Professor Raymond Christope Demmerville, she’d have laughed herself sick and told them they should be sectioned.  

“Sister, what you did was reckless, I doubt Sieur Raymond could be much trusted with a woman before this, but now he is a  Mangeur Sang he can’t be trusted at all.”  The Abbess’s voice was low and calm.

Matilda didn’t answer straight away, but frowned, set her jaw and glared at Abbess Eithne. “Reverend Mother, I’m not frightened of him, he won’t hurt me I know he won’t”

“Child you can’t know, a few soft words from a man such as him mean nothing.” Eithne’s voice was still gentle and, she hoped persuasive, but Matilda was having none of it and forgetting her manners, she slammed her hands down on the table and yelled at the Reverend Mother.

“I do know it, feel it here,” she laid her right hand against her breastbone. “And I know it here.” She tapped two fingers against her forehead. “I know his reputation, but I truly believe that no matter what he was like before, he is different now not just because he is Mangeur Sang, he just doesn’t seem to be anything like the tales we’ve heard.” Her voice was breaking with the emotion of trying to make the Abbess understand. “Besides why should I fear him more than Sister Ina?  I’m not a bit frightened of her even though I know what she is. Why should I treat him any differently, if he is a monster then so is she!” She was almost crying now, and as the last words hiccoughed out of her mouth, she sniffled and inelegantly wiped her nose on her sleeve.

Ina was standing quietly on the landing outside Raymonds room and heard everything, now she made her presence known as she clumped down the stairs and set the pails on the floor.

“Perhaps I am a monster Sister, though I’ve managed to live for many years without attracting too much attention from others, most folks don’t even realise what I am.”  The novice spun around embarrassed, but the look that Sister Ina gave her indicated she wasn’t insulted in the least and she continued. “Though there are always exceptions, some folks are more perceptive, more attuned to the different you are one such;  but I know how to control my actions and desires Sieur Raymond hasn’t learned those lessons, all we ask is that you should tread carefully with him.”

[hollow-dweller]

rivals raymuid 4 rua ?????????????????????????????!!!!?!?!!!!!??! also what's hunting season

hello friend!

'rivals raymuid 4 rua' is a modern au idea i talked about briefly in the discord. basically Raymond and David used to date, they split up, years later Raymond comes back around to find that David has moved on with Diarmuid, and Raymond immediately decides he wants David back because he's Like That. cue a classic "vying for David's affection" rivalry except for Diarmuid is completely unconcerned about Raymond's attempts at getting David back, and the "rivalry" is entirely one-sided.

Finally, Raymond turns his attention to the young man standing next to David.

"All those years we were together and I didn't know David had a younger--cousin, is it? You must be a cousin," Raymond says, grinning at the way David immediately tenses.

The young man, to his credit, barely blinks.

"Diarmuid Moloney," he says, holding out his hand to shake. "David's boyfriend, actually."

Raymond shakes. "Oh, my... apologies. Raymond DeMerville."

Diarmuid lets go, sliding his hands casually into his pockets. "No worries. All David's cousins are older than him, as it happens, but there's no way for you to have known that if you never met his family."

Raymond's grin freezes on his face.

Diarmuid shrugs, voice mild, and continues, "Bit surprising, that. Considering all those years you were together."

'hunting season' is a vague canon divergent au where David never left the Norman army and is renowned as a tracker. he receives orders to travel to Baron De Merville's territory, and when he arrives he is informed that a thief raided the camp in the middle of the night and made off with some very important documents, kept in an expensive and ornate chest. he is ordered to track and retrieve the thief, who has apparently been masquerading as a monk in order to evade detection. he sets to his task, but as his hunt continues he begins to realize that something is not quite right about the story he's been told...

David stands among the trees, breaths even and body still, listening to the gentle whisper of wind through branches.

It had rained the night before, hard, the ground still soft beneath his feet. Any marks that might have been left in the underbrush had been thoroughly washed away.

And yet.

It is impossible to explain to those who have never known violence the ways that violence may echo through time and space, making its presence felt, long after the physical aftermath has faded.

The woods are quiet. The animals have fled. David is certain.

This place has known violence.

ask me about my endless list of wips

[relicshamecircle]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Pilgrimage (2017) Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Brother Diarmuid/the Mute Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, Romance, Sleazebag Raymond de Merville, Mob Boss David, Raymond gets his ass beat, Blood and Violence, fluff at the end, all my fics end with fluff, even the mob au ones Summary: Mob AU. David's been patient, but Raymond de Merville owes him quite a bit of money. He is less than pleased when Raymond sends his unwilling date to David's office in lieu of payment. The young man, Diarmuid, is in some trouble, and David is enough of a gentleman to take care of his de Merville problem and also besotted enough to ask him out afterwards.

[fizzyxcustard]

I would like to imagine a modern Raymond de Merville x Fem!Reader. Maybe a bit romance or more?

Please

I was just looking through my requests and came across this one. I actually didn't realise that anyone liked my modern Raymond. I do have a soft spot for him, and haven't written anything for him since Betrayal (which also featured Lucas North from Spooks and my own OC, Amy Holland). I will definitely keep modern Raymond in mind for more fics. :) However, if you have any ideas or suggestions, I would LOVE to know. <3

Modern Guy of Gisborne and Modern John Thornton are also characters I can write for, too. :)

[shiinata-library]

My masterlist ✨✍️

[ THE HOBBIT • PILGRIMAGE • SHERLOCK BBC • STAY CLOSE ]

English isn't my first language

The Hobbit masterlists

Bilbo

Kíli

Thorin

Fíli

Imagines...

Multiple characters

Aghäte, the decision is yours [113k words] Thorin, Fíli, Kíli or Bilbo x fem!OC | Different paths/ends | Only on AO3

Just the three of us ⋅ On the royal desk [1k words] x Bilbo x fem!reader x Thorin | Smut, PWP

Just the three of us ⋅ Bilbo's birthday [2k words] x Bilbo x fem!reader x Thorin | Smut, PWP

Just the three of us ⋅ How it began [1k words] x Bilbo x fem!reader x Thorin | Smut, PWP

Raymond de Merville Pilgrimage (2017)

Waking up in the Middle Ages [63k words] x fem!OC | Angst, fluff, eventual smut

Headcanon about Raymond de Merville being in love

John Watson Sherlock BBC

Not on the first date [3k words] x fem!reader | fluff

Ray Levine Stay close

Photography lessons [6k words] x fem!reader | angst, insecurity, fluff

📚 👉 My personal library with my favourite stories/fics: just here 

[mistresskayla-blog1]

A Calculated Risk

Characters: John Porter x Raymond Merville x OC Dina Sayed

Lyn's Writing Event 2024 - Week 3 - Day 17

May 17th: Week 3: Egyptian

Characters: John Porter x (crossover) Raymond de Merville (Modern AU) x OC Dina Sayed

Fandom: Richard Armitage – John Porter/ Raymond de Merville – Strike Back (Project Dawn- Porter Lives AU)/Pilgrimage

the character of John Porter was created by Chris Ryan, adapted for television by Simon Burke and Frank Spotnitz

the character of Raymond de Merville was created by Jamie Hannigan for the film Pilgrimage

Word Count: 2k ++

Warnings: military protocols, violence, graphic language, potential character death, fluff, angst, implied sexual relationships, money laundering, arms dealing, love triangle, rescue, espionage.

(This will be a full story – this is all I could get done in the time allotted, but it will continue this month. Also I keep using the name “John” and “Porter” interchangeably. I may go back and alter that later on. Sorry if it causes confusion)

~~~~

            Porter got his assignment that morning as he stepped onto the plane in Istanbul, Turkey. The two-hour flight gave him enough time to go over the dossier of Raymond Merville, a known arms dealer who had asked for assistance in retrieval in Egypt from a compound in Siwa Oasis. His commander, ________ (female commander) was very insistent, “Make sure you get him back in one piece, he’s a delicate piece of intel, but he is also a complete asshole.” John snickered over the coms as she said that.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. Is there some package or whatever, or just him I am securing?”

Commander Eleanor Grant spoke carefully, “we need him, in person for the briefing, just get him here.”

“Understood,” John Porter responded, the call ended. Porter set his phone down on the table in front of him on the plane. And picked up the dossier again, opening it ceremoniously, and flipping through files, seeing a picture of Raymond in the file.

There wasn’t a lot to like about Raymond Merville, other than his penchant for drinking and gambling, along with arms dealing. He liked local flavors, and was well known to be a womanizer, John could respect that, as he was a bit of cad sometimes, but. The more he read the more it was reported that women he got involved with ended up missing. Including a journalist, an attaché, and two former undercover SAS agents. John gritted his teeth and furrowed his brow, looking out through the open window of the plane, a member of his team is not something he can contend with, even if it wasn’t on his watch, but two? Like it or not, Raymond was deadly to most women, and to intelligent and capable women to boot.

Porter made it his mission to keep him away from as many women as possible during the retrieval. The only reason he was going in, was that he looked similar enough to Raymond that his CO thought they could do a bait and switch with the Arab compound. A message came through the com – and he looked at it, it read, “New intel indicates he has an Egyptian national with him, Dina Sayed, CEO of a Financial Institution in Alexandria.” A picture of Dina Sayed popped up on his phone screen and Porter’s heart fluttered than sunk into his belly.

Porter spoke into his phone, “He’s escalating” he said sighing heavily.

Commander Grant, “I agree. Please keep an eye out for her, we both know her fate if you don’t.” Porter nodded, “Yes, I understand.”  

“Be careful out in Siwa, its pretty far from support, so make sure you have proper transportation in and out, we’ll rendezvous with you at the coordinates I sent,” Commander Grant explained.

“And Porter?” Commander said in question, “Yes?” Porter responded, “Its good to have you back.”

Porter smiled, as he looked out the window again, descending into Alexandria, “Good to be back.”  The plane landed in normal pace and as it hit the tarmac, Porter lurched in his seat, remembering the landings he has had in the past that were actually less smooth. He shook his head, clearing old memories and demons from his mind.

---

Raymond woke up with Dina’s arm draped across his chest, she stirred as he peeled her arm off his chest and snuck to the lavatory for a piss. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and felt the heat already creeping across the open door in his room on the compound. He pulled the glass doors closed, and the light-colored linen drapes stilled. Dina moaned against the duvet, “What time is it?” Raymond looked over at her, nearly naked in his bed and smiled like a cat with a canary. He approached the bed and sat down, clad in only shorts, “Time for you to get to work, love,” he said, his French-English accent whispering to her. Dina rolled away from him and sat up, retrieving her top off the floor and slipping it on, “Yeah, I know. I was hoping for some breakfast first.” She coyly smirked back at him over her shoulder as she stood.

Raymond came up behind her, across the bed and kissed her shoulder, “We can, soon. Let’s just get this thing done for Amed and then we can go wherever you want to go in the Oasis.”

Dina looked at him, “Amed said we couldn’t leave, how do you suppose we are going anywhere?”

Raymond sighed against her skin, kissing it, and causing tingles down her spine, he was so attractive, Dina thought. He was definitely wrong for her, she knew that when he approached her in that club 3 weeks ago. But he knew people, and Dina wanted to grow her business, even if it meant dealing with people that could, harm her.

Raymond kissed her neck again coming around the front of her and put his hand on the back of her neck, looking hard in her eyes, “We will get out of here, I promise you. I arranged a retrieval with my government,”

Dina stepped away from him, “What? In Amed’s house? Are you nuts?” Dina walked briskly into the lavatory. Raymond on her feet, “Dina! (he lowered his tone) Dina. Please. I can’t get out of this any other way this time. Amed does not let anyone leave this place without a fucking delivery or a toe tag. (he talked wildly with his hands) I need your money to get him his delivery.”  

Dina looked at him through the reflection in the mirror, “How do you want me to do this then? Because I’m not dying for you.” Raymond put his arms around her and looked at her in the mirror set into his chest, “I’m not letting you go, until I say.” His eyes darkened a little as he kissed her shoulder again and left the room. Dina shuddered, and splashed some water on her face, it was tepid, in the desert, water isn’t cold, even in the Oasis. She dried her face with a hand towel and straightened herself up a bit. Heading back to the bedroom where Raymond was casually leaning against the floor to ceiling doorway he had closed earlier.

Raymond turned to her, and smiled slightly, Dina approached him, tipping up to kiss him on the mouth, “I will make the arrangements for you, it should take a few hours, can you tell him that?” Dina came back down on her heels and he held her, looking into her eyes, “Yes, I can, thank you,” he nudged her cheek with his nose, and then dropped his hands sighing as he stared out at the Oasis. Dina finished getting dressed and pulled her laptop out of her large purse by the bed.

She pulled a key fob out of the purse as well, it had a read out that changed every 60 seconds for security, and never repeated a combination. Raymond watched her every move silently. Dina pressed her fingerprint to a key pad on the laptop keyboard and the computer loaded into a login program. She typed in her password and pressed Enter. It opened to an accounts setting. Dina scrolled through and found the corresponding wire information. She turned to Raymond then, “What’s his acct number?”  Raymond stepped towards her, and pulled out his phone, scanning they a folder and then showing her, but still not talking. “Thank you” she said, looking at it, and typing it into the form. She got the corresponding information and prepared the wire, “Amount?” She looked at him again, realizing he was standing just behind her, Dina felt a bit nervous with him right on top of her like that.

“45 millions euros.” He said casually. Dina smirked a little, that’s a good chunk for her she thought, he fee is 3% of transfer. Dina did the calculations, and sent through the wire, removing her fee ahead of the schedule. She looked at her device as the program prompted and typed in the 6 digit code before it switched again. The confirmation came up, and she looked at the “pending” status, and logged out swiftly. “There you go, all set.” Dina beamed up at Raymond, as she closed her laptop and tucked the device under her shirt.

Raymond beamed back at her, “Great. I will go tell Amed he can expect it soon,”

Dina walked to the window, “Less my fee of course”, a sly smirk rising. Raymond’s voice faltered, “You took it right away?” Dina looked at him, “Yes, why?” Raymond cleared his throat, “That’s very bold of you, what do I do about the discrepancy?” Dina looked down a moment, “You tell it’s a fee charge, what else, look I’m not doing this for a laugh. I need my own money to shift the company.” Raymond nodded, “I know, I want to help you, but this is a tricky deal, we have to be smart, how much did you take?” Dina turned, “1.3 million.” Raymond looked thoughtful, “I see, and where is that now? In your bra?” Dina looked more serious at him, “Don’t be ridiculous its in my other account.” 

Raymond rubbed her arms and up to her shoulders from behind, leaning into her shoulders a bit as they both stared out through the window. His hands squeezing menacingly, “Where am I supposed to get the other money then?” Dina shifted against his weight. “I told you 45 million clean, now your playing around, taking fees, he doesn’t know about?” Dina moved out of his grip, but he was fast and gripped her arm again. Twisting her to face him, “You don’t understand,” Raymond said.

Dina snapped back at him, “No You don’t understand, I am doing You a favor,” she pointed at his chest, walking him backwards, “And You will respect my position here.”

Raymond started to laugh, “Darling, the only position you are here for is to be on all fours, and give me that money,” Dina slapped him across the face, and moved to leave the room. Raymond was right behind her, pulling her back against his chest, “Don’t cross me either, I may be a pussycat, my dear but I can be fierce,” he nearly growled in her hair. Dina shuddered, staying still under his grasp, waiting for her opportunity to get away.

“Look, we can tell him together, if your so,” she swallowed, “nervous.” Raymond towered over her and placed a kiss on the top of her head, “Yeah, yeah, let’s do that,” his grip loosened as he calculated. Dina relaxed momentarily and they both exited the room to the main part of the compound.

---

            John secured a jeep and some gear, just enough supplies for the trek there and back. His rendezvous was just outside Marsa Malruh, near a small Bedouin village with a tourist salt cave. He had 28 hours to get Raymond and get him back to the rendezvous point. John thought about the woman, Dina, trying to figure out if he would have to retrieve her too. Surely if she was with Raymond, she knew the risk of staying in that compound. The compound in question was owned by Amed Al-Siwa, a very intense man with dark eyes and large hands. He had a short temper and a powerful sense of loyalty and honor.

It was 6 pm local time and Porter was driving into the sunset along the northern coast of Egypt, 6 hours on the road would get him to the compound just after midnight, and that meant, two things, the element of surprise, and cooler temperatures. Porter drove as the highway carried him to the southern roadway about 3 hours in. He stopped for petrol and pounded some caffeine pills he snagged in the shop. Its nothing but darkness in the desert at night, and wild animals, Porter wanted to stay alert. Porter checked his gear one more time, retrieving his Glock 9mm, and set it between the seats. He didn’t plan on getting stopped at the tolls, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen.

---

Taglist:

@scariusaquarius @riepu10 @sweetestgbye @lathalea

@middleearthpixie @evenstaredits @legolasbadass

Lyn's Writing Event 2024

[lathalea]

Let Armitage Summer Splash Begin!

The summer is almost here so it’s about time to have some fun! Are you a writer or an artist? Have you seen at least one movie or series with Richard Armitage? If so, @fizzyxcustard and @lathalea would like to invite you to join us in our little creative event! Our mission this June is to show some appreciation to this great actor!

☀️ THE MASTERLIST: 💦

🍧 WEEK 1🍧 WEEK 2🍧 WEEK 3 🍧 WEEK 4 🍧 WEEK 5 🍧

🏖 RULES 🏖

It’s all pretty straightforward. Every Sunday (starting May 29th) we’re going to post a set of 7 RA-related prompts for the upcoming week of June. We are going to send the prompts a few days in advance each week so that everyone has enough time to prepare. Posting starts on June 1st. There is going to be one prompt for each day of June consisting of three elements: a trope, a quote, and an image. You can pick one of them, two – or all three of them, whatever inspires you the most. Feel free to create works (fics and ficlets, art and sketches, drabbles, moodboards, gifsets and so on) for all 30 June prompts – or just pick the ones you like. It’s up to you! And now – the details:

☀️ 1. Like and reblog this post. ☀️ 2. Choose a RA character to go with the current prompt of the day, and create a work inspired by it.

☀️ 3. Post your work optimally on the day the prompt belongs to. If you can’t make it, make sure you post between June 1st and July 7th latest.

☀️ 4. Tag each work with #Armitage Summer Splash and with the name of the character you picked. Oh, and please tag both @fizzyxcustard and @lathalea as well so we can see your work!

☀️ 5. We will shower your post with reblog love as a part of our RA Summer Splash celebration!

☀️ 6. At the end of each week, please fill in this form and let us know about your posted works. We will include them in our masterlists for the event! 

☀️ 7. If you complete all the 30 prompts, let us know at the end of the event via a DM - we’ll have a little something for you as a thank you for participating!

☀️ 8. We gently encourage you to, share, comment and reblog works of others creators taking part in this event. Let’s cReAte some buzz and appReciAte all the wonderful creators! ☀️ 9. Have fun, be kind, and stay positive 💙

☀️ 10. And remember, normality is cheese sandwiches! 🧀🍞

🍹 FAQ 🍹

💦 Do I really need to write one fic/create one art every day in June? Not at all! You can choose to use as many prompts as you like.  It can be one prompt a day, one prompt a week or one prompt in total — whatever feels best for you. The only requirement is to post the final works not later than on July 7th. We encourage you to post your works on the days they belong to (so it’s best to post a fic for June 1st prompt on June 1st) , but we know everyone’s lives are busy so it’s okay if you happen to post them a bit later.

💦 How long should my fic be? How detailed should my art be? Because of the nature of this little event, we chose to leave this decision to you. It’s a busy month for everyone! Your work can be as long (or short) and as detailed as you like. No requirements. Your fic can be one sentence long and your moodboard can contain two or three images, including the one in the prompt, and it will still be fine!

💦 Can I write fics/create art in advance? Of course! We only ask you to post it in June (preferably on the prompt dates). In case you are a bit delayed, make sure to post your last works on July 7th latest so we can add it to our masterlists.

💦 I want to write a fic about Thorin, but the prompt feels like a Modern AU to me. Can I write modern!Thorin instead? That’s a great idea and yes! Any AUs are allowed, go wild and write spaceship captain Raymond de Merville, victorian Lucas North, pirate John Thornton, inquisitor Father Quart, bodyguard Thorin  - whatever your imagination throws at you. As long as these characters are unmistakably themselves, all is good! (And yes, Everyone Lives AU is also a valid choice!)

💦 Can I create a NSFW piece? Yes, of course you can. Just please remember to tag it in an appropriate way and use all the usual tumblr precautions for posting NSFW content.

💦 I don’t want to miss out on any announcements for the Armitage Summer Splash. Can you tag me in your posts? We’ll be happy to! Just let @lathalea or @fizzyxcustard know and we’ll add you to the taglist.

💦 Can I use the image from your prompt in my work? Feel free to do it! You are welcome to use it as an illustration for your fic or as a part of your art. We don’t own the images – all the credit goes to their respective owners. Thank you, Pinterest!

💦 And what about you? Are you going to sit back and just read our fics/look at our art? No! We’re going to take part in this event too, along with everyone else. Apart from that, each week we’ll create a masterlist of all the fics/art created in this event by the participants!

💦 I have another question… Feel free to send an ask or DM to @lathalea or @fizzycxustard.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️ Armitage Summer Splash ☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️ Weekly Prompts/Masterlists:

🍧 WEEK 1

🍧 WEEK 2

🍧 WEEK 3

🍧 WEEK 4

🍧 WEEK 5

Please let us know if you’d like to be added/removed from the taglist: @legolasbadass @linasofia @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @sketch-and-write-lover @dumbassunderthemountain @enchantzz @justfollowtheroad @thewarriorandtheking @guylty @knitastically @guylty @mezzmerizedbyrichard @jassy2101 @sweetestgbye @shrimpsthings @estethell

[linasofia]

Masterlist

Thorin

Business & Pleasure

Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader (Modern AU) Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l Part 6 I Part 7 l Part 8 l Part 9 l NYE

Bunnelê

Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader x Raymond de Merville (Modern AU) Part 1 l ...

A Shooting Star

Thorin Oakenshield x OC Vega Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l Part 6 l Part 7 l Art

Around the Riverbend

Thorin Oakenshield x OFC

Brothers in Arms

Thorin & Dwalin (platonic)

Among The Stars

Thorin Oakenshield x OC Riin (Crossover AU)

Raymond

Petite Voleuse

Raymond de Merville x OFC Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l Epilogue

Le Désir

Raymond de Merville x OC Cecilia Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3

Father Quart

Penance 🧔🏻‍♂️✝️

Father Quart x Fem!Reader Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3

Seven 🧔🏻‍♂️✝️

Father Quart x Fem!Reader

A Piece of Heaven 🧔🏻‍♂️✝️

Father Quart x Fem!Reader

More Than Words🧔🏻‍♂️✝️

Father Quart x Fem!Reader

Our Secret 🧔🏻‍♂️✝️

Father Quart x Fem!Reader

Coming Home 🧔🏻‍♂️✝️

Father Quart x Fem!Reader

Sacrifice 🧔🏻‍♂️✝️

Father Quart x OC Charlotte Part 1 l Part 2

Love Never Dies 🧔🏻‍♂️✝️

Father Quart x OC Palmira Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5

Burning Desire 🧔🏻‍♂️✝️

Father Quart x OC Lucia

Various RA characters

The Night Train

Daniel Miller x Fem!Reader Part 1 l Part 2 l …

Into The Woods

Dr Mikhail Astrov x OFC Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3

The Game

William Farrow x Fem!Reader Part 1 l Part 2

Never Together

John Porter x Fem!Reader Part 1 l Part 2

The Call

John Porter x Fem!Reader

In My Head

Dr. Scott White x OC Emily

The Assignment

Lucas North x OC Lovisa

Richard

The Fire 🔥

Creature (Richard Armitage) x OC Polina

Hunger 🧛‍♂️

Richard Armitage x Fem!Reader

Blood Moon 🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️

Richard Armitage x OC Sofia x Matthew Clairmont Part 1 l Part 2 I Part 3 l Part 4

Naughty Thoughts 🐴

Richard Armitage x Fem!Reader Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4

Event

Armitage Summer Splash 2022 Masterlist 💦

Asks

Christmas with Dr. Scott White 🎄

Christmas Eve with Father Quart 🎄

Art

Father Quart x me by @legolasbadass 💙

All pictures from The Man from Rome & Obsession by @enchantzz 💜

Thorin Oakenshield by @legolasbadass 💚

Thorin Oakenshield by @mysandwichranaway 💙

Star Wars

Starflowers

Obi-Wan Kenobi x OC Eliise

[middleearthpixie]

Master List

So... I write things. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. If you'd like to be tagged in any of them, let me know!

Also, if you enjoy something, please reblog to your heart's content! Comments are always welcome as well!! <3

You can find my stories here and at AO3.

Fandoms I Write For:

Lord of The Rings - Boromir, Éomer, and Haldir (I've not tackled him yet, but want to. hee hee)

The Hobbit - Thorin, Dwalin, Frerin

And in the near future - The Boys - Billy Butcher

Please read my note on requests before submitting. 😉😀

Multi-Chapter Works

Damaged Goods - Ray Levine x ofc Theo Bailey (Stay Close AU) Complete

The Hobbit

~ Thorin ~

The Ties That Bind ~ Thorin x ofc Eirlys of Mirkwood (Post-BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives) - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

~ Completed Works ~

Something in the Night ~ Thorin x ofc Nina Carren (Post-BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives)

Brilliant Disguise ~ Thorin x ofc Josephine (Sophie) Asharm (Post-BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives)

After the Fire ~ Thorin x ofc Jasna Stoneham (Post- BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives)

Miss Fortune ~ Modern!Thorin x ofc Alex Prescott -

Playing With Fire ~ Modern!Thorin x ofc Leda Andrews - (Pub AU)

Where I Belong ~ Thorin x ofc Noelle James (modern NYC/DoS/BOTFA AU)

More Than Meets the Eye ~ Thorin x ofc Arielle Farran (Post- BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives)

Someone to Watch Over Me ~ Thorin x ofc Seren Gilwynn (The Hobbit, Slight AU)

In Time ~ Thorin x ofc Amara (Post-BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives)

~ Frerin ~

Seven Days ~ Modern!Frerin x ofc Syd Prescott - Complete

Better Days ~ Modern!Frerin x ofc Elena Madison - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 |

Lord of the Rings

~ Boromir ~

Promise Me ~ Boromir x ofc Gabriella (LOTR AU Where Everybody Lives) -Complete

Living Proof ~ Boromir x ofc Kaia (LOTR AU Where Everybody Lives) ~ Complete

Letter to You ~ Boromir x ofc Nora (LOTR AU Post-War of the Ring Where Boromir Lives)

One Shots/Drabbles/Shorts

~Miscellaneous Shorts~

How Will I Know ~ Thorin, Dwalin, Balin, Kili, Fili, (Modern AU) ~ This ties loosely with In Time, and The Cellar & Other Stories.

~ Dwalin ~

(Oldest to Most Recent )

Durin's Garage AU - Good Trouble - Updated 10/25/2022 - This WILL be updated in the near future!

The One Where Zana & Dwalin Spend Their First Yule Together

The One Where Zana Faceplants

The One Where Dwalin is Totally NOT Jealous

Meet the Fundinsons

The Morning After

The Cellar

~ Thorin x Reader Inserts Master List ~

The Getaway -Modern!Thorin x reader

Monday - Modern!Thorin x reader

Durin's Garage AU ~ The Chance You Take - Modern!Thorin x reader

Yule - AU!Thorin x reader

~ Asks Master List ~

A Walk in the Woods - Thorin x reader (Post-BOTFA Where Everybody Lives)

Absolute Beginners ~ Thorin x reader (Post-BOTFA Where Everybody Lives)

In This Moment ~ Thorin x reader (Desolation of Smaug Slight AU)

Blind Date ~ Guy of Gisborne/John Porter Crossover AU

Stroll ~ Guy of Gisborne/John Porter Crossover AU Part 2

Dessert ~ Guy of Gisborne/John Porter Crossover AU Part 3

Lockdown ~ Guy of Gisborne/ John Porter Crossover AU Part 4

Cake ~ Guy of Gisborne/John Porter Crossover AU Part 5

Hot Apple Cider ~ Thorin Oakenshield x Reader (Post-BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives)

Fireworks ~ John Porter x Reader

The Fountain ~ Lindir x fem!reader

The Escape ~ Thorin x ofc Carys Greenleaf

The Escape, Part Two ~ Thorin x ofc Carys Greenleaf

The Harp ~ Thorin x fem!reader

Fair Enough ~ Éomer x fem!reader

~ Challenges Master List ~

The Courtyard - Dancing/Dipping Partner

A Kiss in the Rain - Kissing in the Rain

Bed of Roses - Rose Petals in the Bedroom

Showstopper ~ Modern!Bard x ofc Aislinn Dale (Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2022)

The River ~ Thorin x Fem!dwarf reader (Gates of Summer Exchange 2022)

A Bit of Home ~ Thorin x Fem!Reader (FotFic Pinup Calendar 2023)

Midsummer Night ~ Frerin x Belladonna Took (Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2023)

Long Walk Home ~ Boromir x ofc Eleri (Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2023)

The Woods ~ Boromir x ofc Kaia (Tolkien Pinup Calendar 2024)

Second Time Around ~ Boromir x ofc Brynne (Tolkien Pinup Calendar 2024)

The River ~ Fíli x ofc Vanessa Adams (Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2024)

Two Hearts ~ Boromir x ofc Sarina (Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2024)

~ Armitage Summer Splash Master List ~

WEEK 1

Make Me ~ Prompt #1 ~ Thorin Oakenshield

Bygones ~ Prompt #2 ~ Lucas North

The Note ~ Prompt #3 ~ Ray Levine

The Other Woman ~ Prompt #4 ~ John Porter

In Vino Veritas ~ Prompt #5 ~ Guy of Gisborne

Now or Never ~ Prompt #6 ~ Ray Levine

Misunderstanding ~ Prompt #7 ~ John Thornton

WEEK 2

The Tavern ~ Prompt #8 ~ Guy of Gisborne

Brewster's Place ~ Prompt #9 ~ John Proctor

Runaway ~ Prompt #10 ~ Raymond de Merville

Middle Earth’s Next Top Model ~ Prompt #11 ~ Moodboard

Stolen Moments ~ Prompt #12 ~ Thorin Oakenshield

Waiting ~ Prompt #13 ~ John Porter

Hurt ~ Prompt #14 ~ Lucas North

WEEK 3

The Lake ~ Prompt #15 ~ Raymond de Merville

The Visitor ~ Prompt #16 ~ John Proctor

Quiet ~ Prompt #17 ~ Thorin Oakenshield

Angel ~ Prompt #18 ~ Guy of Gisborne

Inked ~ Prompt #19 ~ Lucas North

Vampire ~ Prompt #20 ~ Claude Becker Moodboard

Body Swap ~ Prompt #21 ~ Ray Levine Moodboard

WEEK 4

Family ~ Prompt #22 ~ Thorin Oakenshield

Pizza - Prompt #23 ~ Raymond de Merville

Hit & Run ~ Prompt #24 ~ John Proctor

Fifty ~ Prompt #25 ~ Ray Levine

Leap of Faith ~ Prompt #26 ~ Guy of Gisborne

Homecoming ~ Prompt #27 ~ John Porter

Sweet Dreams ~ Prompt #28 ~ Lucas North

WEEK 5

Vacation ~ Prompt #29 ~ John Proctor Moodboard

Magic Kingdom - Prompt #30 ~ Raymond de Merville

[dumbassunderthemountain]

Masterlist of Imagines

Thorin x Reader

Terrible Braiding

Terrible Braiding (Revamped)

Enchanted Berries

Headache Part 1

Headache Part 2

Something There

Love of History Part 1

Love of History Part 2

With Me

Scars and Tattoos

Always Remember Us This Way

Stressed

Wildest Dreams

Hope of Spring

Rivendell Pools

The Night After

Curse of Erebor (Pirate AU)

Snowed In

What are You Doing?

Holiday Traditions

Storm Watching

Thorin’s Company x Reader

Introducing Snow White

Easter in Erebor

Tauriel x Reader

Artemis?

The Pairing Ceremony

John Thornton x Reader

Office Visit (smut)

Fake Courting

Modern Milton

Raymond de Merville x Reader

A Simple Favor