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#the delicate net on her arm!!
pureanonofficial · 1 year
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Susan Egan and Terrence Mann in Beauty and the Beast. Posted by disneyonbroadway on Instagram for the musical’s 29th anniversary.
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luveline · 6 months
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Could we please get vampire Sirius? Like maybe he originally lured reader in to drink from her but was just totally enamoured by her because she isn’t scared of him? Love you xx
love you!!
“Do you often accompany strange men to cemeteries?”
You pick a little piece of lint from your sleeve and move on through the gravestones, “Only ones in need. Padfoot! Come here, boy.”
Sirius feels bad for lying to you about his dog that he doesn’t have, but he’s hungry. It’s like blaming a cat for killing a mouse. Nature is nature is nature, and you’re pretty enough to make feeding from you a thrill and a half. He can’t believe you’d been this potent a fool as to believe his lie in the first place — the moon is heavy as a silver medallion in the sky, light like silk pouring over the cemetery, but it is still a cemetery, and you are still alone with him, a strange man you barely know. 
“You should call him more, he’ll recognise your voice,” you suggest, turning to him with a very nice smile, as smiles go. This is the part where he jumps on you and holds you down. But you’re smiling, not a hint of suspicion about you. “You really don’t know what breed he is?”
“He looks like a mixture of every dog on earth.”
“A creature, then. Nice.” You wait for him to catch up with you before you point to a darkened area of the cemetery. Maroon pitch stains the floor, evidence of past misdemeanours. “Ooh, gross. That looks like blood. How many people do you think get murdered in places like this?”
“Definitely a few.”
“Is there even really a dog?” you ask. 
Sirius takes your hand into his. Your hands are almost as cold as he is, your fingers stiff with frigidity. He doesn’t bother trying to warm them, impossible, but he does attempt a seduction of sorts. He likes when his victims are scared; it gets the blood pumping quickly, and it tastes different. Not sweeter or anything so fanciful, but different. You aren’t easily scared, it seems, so he brings your hand to his lips instead for a kiss pressed against delicate knuckles. 
“Why wouldn’t there be a dog?” he asks. 
“There are other ways to get someone alone, you know?”
“Like what?”
“Like flirting,” you say, your shoulders relaxing as he continues his touching, his fingers dancing up the length of your arm and netting behind your shoulder to pull you in. 
“There’s a dog,” he lies, he promises, staring into the innocent pools of your eyes as hunger burns with the ferocity of tears in his throat. “Why? You thought I wanted to be alone with you?”
He leans in, forcing you to close your eyes as he closes his. “You don't?” you ask. 
His gums sting as the razor tip of his fangs slide over his canines, sharp and thing. There’s no room for words now, only action. He kisses you softly, because if he’s going to kill you he thinks he can manage a kinder goodbye, your glossy lips parting at the pressure of his wading. He opens his mouth and yours opens with it, a gasp rushing between you as you feel the sharpness of his fangs and pull away. 
“Ow,” you say, frowning, “you vampires are all the same.”
“We— what?”
“You have no sense of sweetness about you. If you kissed me nicely at first I wouldn’t mind letting you feed on me." You scowl, pressing your pinky to your bloody lip, dissatisfied. 
"You want me to kiss you nicely?" Sirius asks. 
"I thought so, yes." You turn away from him. "Not very much anymore." 
For some reason, the idea that he could overpower you flees his mind. "Now, wait a minute, darling. I'll kiss you very nicely." 
"Sure you will. My lip is bleeding, I know exactly what you're like." 
"Nuh-uh." Something about your lack of fear —he's shocked, but it's hot. Really, really attractive. "Sweetheart, I've been kissing people for longer than you've been alive." 
"Ew." You giggle at him, your reluctance fading. "Okay, fine. But no biting, okay? You can bite me afterwards." 
Sirius grins and pulls you forward, barely caring about the implication of afterwards as you melt into the circle of his arms and kiss him with an ardency he hasn't felt for a few decades, at least. You shiver at his cold hand where it disappears under your shirt, but you smile into his mouth rather than shriek. (He's in love, probably.) 
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lvlystars · 3 months
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23:55 — p.jh
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“you know…it’s not that bad, honey.” jihyo reassuringly rubs your arm in an attempt to comfort you as you dejectedly stare at your failed attempt at a birthday cake for your girlfriend. the colour combination was not the best, and the way some parts were piped looked a little larger than others, with little crumbs from the cake within speckled across the outer layer of the frosting.
“but it’s supposed to be perfect.” you sigh, turning away and flopping down onto the couch in your living room as jihyo follows you, gently sitting down beside you as she starts to rub your thigh. “y/n, i don’t care if it’s perfect or not. it was made by you, and that fact alone makes me so happy today.”
you face her with a pout on your face, furrowing your eyebrows as you begrudgingly slip your hand into hers. jihyo reciprocates your touch with a gentle squeeze, smiling down at you before leaning down to peck your cheek. “now get up, i want to take pictures with my cake.” she pats your thigh, urging you to stand up as you groan, shaking your head.
“you want to take a picture with that? you’re insane.” you laugh as you start to lighten up a little, jihyo rolling her eyes at you before sitting in the chair at the table and pulling the cake closer to her self. “come on, take the pictures quickly! my birthday’s gonna end!” she whines, shoving the phone into your hand as she grabs the matchstick and lighting the candle perched atop the cake.
you’re hit with a wave of some kind of nostalgia as you watch jihyo clap her hands while you softly sing ‘happy birthday’ to your girlfriend, jihyo beaming as you end the song. as you start counting to her age, she scowls as she’s reminded of how old she is, faking hurt.
“i’m almost nearing the end of my 20’s, my golden years.” she sniffles as she pretends to wipe tears away. you roll your eyes as you pat her head, picking up a plastic knife and cutting out a piece of the cake before feeding her with it.
you look at her expectantly as she slowly chews the cake, trying to digest the flavour before her eyebrows furrow as if she looked angry, and you chuckle softly as she lets out a hum of satisfaction, nodding before her face morphs into a look of enjoyment. “it’s pretty good! did you make this?” she smiles up at you, astonishment evident on her face. you nod as you smile back, feeling a little bit shy as she continues to eat the cake, humming in satisfaction at every bite.
you’re suddenly met with a single bite of cake in front of you, the spoon hovering expectantly as jihyo looks at you, urging you to take a bite. “eat.” she quips, motioning for you to open your mouth, and you slowly take a bite, chewing as you look back at jihyo’s giddy eyes, her face bright enough to light the entire dimly lit room you both were in. as you focus on the cake, you hum in delight as you nod. “it’s good, right?” she whispers. you nod in response before jihyo sets the fork down, hugging you.
you wrap your arms around her in response, basking in the warmth of your embrace as you both sway from side to side. you look at the clock to see the time showing “00:07”.
"ah, your birthday is done.” you whisper, and jihyo just shushes you, placing a delicate finger on your lips.
“let me enjoy this.” she mumbles, snuggling closer to you.
“but-”
“shh.”
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wc. 616
a/n. hbd to my mother jihyo, i love her sm, and in celebration of 'i got you' coming out today, i totally planned to release this today. (definitely not bcus writer's block got the best of me 😔)
tags 🏷️ —
@welcometomyoasis @wqnwoos @etherealyoungk @amxlia-stars @shuahaes @seuonji @star1117-archives @spicyseonghwas @haowrld @kyeomyun
networks 🔗 —
@preciousillusions-net @cacaokpop-fics @k-labels
lmk if you want to be added/removed from my taglist!
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ⓒ lvlystars
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sapphicmsmarvel · 3 months
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acotar characters loving a plus size reader
NSFW bc of descriptors. But like, actual smut? Nah. also body worship vibes but again, not Explicit.
Azriel: if he could spend eternity between your thick thighs, it would never be enough. Whether that be his head, hand, shadows, dick, anything. He lives for it. He loves you in any clothes (especially his) but seeing you in a cute little sundress while he stuffs his cock into your cunt? Heaven on earth for this man. 
Cassian: this man loves your hips oh my. He loves when you wear his shirts and your plush hips just peek out from the shirt. It’s a tantalizing mystery that he has to solve every time. Aka, whenever he sees it, he will eat you out. Either against the wall or in bed, always private because he refuses to let anyone else see you the way he does. 
Rhysand: this man loves your arms. yall know that one jessica chastain and oscar isaac clip? Rhys always does that to you! He purposefully buys you dresses that will show them off! When you made your mating/wedding bargain with him, he made sure the tattoo did not cover your beautiful skin there. He loves holding your arms above your head while he pounds your body into the mattress. 
Feyre: sit. on. her. face. She’s so in love with your size! Your thighs? She could die perfectly happy! Your tummy? Oh my Gods, the most beautiful sight to her is when she’s eating you out and can see those thighs quivering and stomach trying to catch a breath. She loves you in any type of clothes, but seeing you wear a dress? She’s floored every time. 
Morrigan: your stretch marks are everything to her. She loves kissing them and tracing them with her tongue. She loves when you wear a netted or mesh fabric that shows them off a little bit. Whenever you wear revealing clothes that show them, she always has a hand on them, tracing them delicately with her fingers just imagining the sounds you were going to make that night while she fucked you. 
Amren: She would never, in a million years, say it to your face; but she loves your cheeks. Both your ass and face. She loves how squishy and red your cheeks get when she fucks you (again, both of them). She loves the cellulite, the stretch marks. You look like a statue from her time. You’re her home. 
Nesta: Her and Cassian have a type, it’s the hips. She loves when you wear a skin tight cotton dress. She can see the outline of your perfect body, the fabric hugging every curve that she is dying to sink her teeth into. She does bite in bed, but she can’t help it. How dare you look so fucking hot that she can’t contain herself? 
Elain: elain isn’t one for vulgarity, but my gods your tits. She constantly has to catch herself from just face planting into them because she loves it there. A lot of times if you’re sitting at a counter or standing in a mirror, she’ll just walk up behind you and cup your boobs in her hands and just squeeze. She cannot help it. 
Lucien: he is an Ass man. He likes having something to grip. He loves watching your skin recoil at the force of his thrusts. You’re just so hot it makes him breathless sometimes. 
Eris: Like Morrigan, nothing, on this earth, makes him weaker than your stretch marks. Every time you have sex he is kissing and tracing, sometimes licking them. He can’t help himself. They’re just so pretty. 
Tarquin: if you ever wanna put this man into cardiac arrest, wear a bikini. Or frankly, don’t wear anything. He will not complain. He’s not really a Territorial Guy, just a smug bastard that smirks and touches you when he knows people want what’s his. If you’re in your bedroom wearing just a robe he will 100% just walk by and untie it just so you don’t have anything on.
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sunfyresrider · 11 months
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˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐡 | Aegon T.
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✧Summary: Ever since you were a child you found solace in the faith. As you grew so did your devotion to the gods. You were hellbent on becoming a septa and remaining pure. Until one cursed night you stumble upon a scene that tests your faith and continues to do so until you reach your breaking point. ✧Tags: religious themes, religious guilt, Aegon issss, well, a whore, targcest, wet dreams, some spicy church smut. ✧Author’s Note: Anon, my love, your request was very long so I didn’t put it in the post itself. I hope you find this and enjoy it<3 ps I did not edit the smut scene bc i got embarassed
You had always been a good girl, your mother’s favorite. You were hopelessly devoted to the gods and worshiped them as you were supposed to. You did not sin, unless it was necessary, and it rarely was. You did what your mother said no questions asked. You attended septa lessons and the sept frequently, as those were the only things that mattered to you. 
The clothes you wore were never flashy, you seldom wore jewelry. Sometimes you paired them with a hair net or cowl to conceal your hair, as was expected of women of the faith. You did not flaunt your body, nor did you flaunt yourself. You followed the rules and found solace in them. 
Unlike your sweet sister who would in time be wed, have children and live out her life as somebody’s wife, you were hell bent on becoming a septa. What better way to prove your devotion than becoming a servant of the faith?  Your siblings were not the same, the Targaryens in general were not the same. 
They all sinned needlessly, whether it be incest or premarital bedding they all did it and assumed themselves to be exempt from the gods punishments. You knew better, of course, as was expected of a servant of the gods. However, tonight was much different than the rest. 
You should have been in bed by this hour. If your mother found, you she would surely chastise you. But Merexes, your cat, had escaped and you could not sleep without her. You delicately creeped around the keep, avoiding any guards stationed outside during the nighttime. Though half of them looked as if they were asleep standing up, it was better to be cautious. 
“Mer,” you whispered loudly. “Here kitty kitty, it’s time for bed.” your voice faintly echoed throughout the corridor. You heard some noises coming from the eastern part of Maegor’s holdfast. Perhaps Helaena had stolen her away in the night and failed to tell you. 
You didn’t like this part, the area where your eldest brother slept. It was dark and dingy, his guard Ser Arryk was almost always sent away so Aegon could do whatever he pleased. What he did you did not know, but you were sure it was against the faith. There were only a few candles in this corridor, making the darkened stone walls appear far scarier than they should be. 
“Meraxes, where are you, my love?” Your voice was shaky, more nervous than previously. A small gush of wind made an eerie noise causing you to jump. You really did not like this place at night. “Here kitty kitty,” you tried again in a louder whisper. The breeze chilled your shoulder, causing you to wrap your shawl around tighter. It was foolish to leave your room in your night clothes too, your mother would not approve. 
At the end of the hallway there was a faint light flickering, in the shadow it casted you could see a tail gently swaying accompanied by mewling. Your entire mood shifted as you raced towards her, calling out her name quietly. You lost focus of your surroundings as you swiftly lifted her into your arms before she could resist. You squeezed her gently, placing kisses on her head.
But your focus was pulled away, the sound of mewling did not stop and it was not coming from your cat. You turned on your heels, peeking around the corner. The thing you saw was beyond sinful, a direct violation of every commandment the gods had. The eldest of your siblings, Aegon, had a woman wrapped around her waist. He was thrusting into her, in the bare at that. For a moment you were too stunned to move, your feet firmly planted into the floor. Your eyes were nearly popping out of your head, a crimson blush covering your exposed skin. 
It felt as if the room was on fire, a swirling sensation beginning to form in your gut. You were sure your mouth hung agape; you had never ever seen anything so vulgar in your life before… As if sensing they were being watched the girl whipped her head over to see you, she let out a scream signaling you were there.
It immediately snapped you out of your daze, you sprinted towards your bedroom refusing to look back. Meraxes bouncing in your arms as you dodged through your door, slamming it shut behind you. You paced around your room, panting whilst trying to catch your breath. Aemond always said he was the definition of sin, and you should have listened. You should had stayed in your chambers; you should had left before you witnessed anything. 
You shook your head, trying to banish the vile images from your mind. You felt dirty, even though you had not gone near mud. You forced yourself into the bed, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to forget everything you had seen. It was nearly impossible, especially with this unknown desire that now plagued you. 
There was a warm sensation in between your legs. The feeling of something wet lapping at an area you never dared touch.Your core felt as if it was tingling, causing your body to squeeze around something. You lowered your hand, grabbing at the hair of whoever’s head was down there. The appendage moved in circles around you, eliciting sensations you had never felt prior. His hands moved to cup at your breasts, squeezing your nipples to pull soft moans out of you. You lazily opened your eyes, looking down to see who was bringing you such pleasure….. “Aegon?” 
You jumped awake, scanning your room for any intruders. You lifted your night dress to see if anything had happened, yet you found nothing but wet bed sheets. Your core ached for something you did not know… And you felt dirty once more. Incest was one of the greatest sins, accompanied by whatever else you had done in your dreams.
You had the maids fetch you a bath as soon as you woke, scrubbing ceaselessly at your skin to wash away the sin you didn’t want. By the time you had finished your skin was reddened and raw. Still, the feeling of uncleanliness did not leave you. The throbbing between your thighs refused to leave. 
You were meant to attend septa lessons today and walk around the gardens with Helaena to search for bugs, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave your room. Instead, you attempted to find solace in the book of the seven. As you read you kept your legs crossed, it was the only way you had found to cease the ache a little. 
There was nothing in the book you could find that explained your new feelings. However, it is said that prostitution and promiscuity is against the faith and outlawed. You knew about the women who bed men before marriage, but promiscuity was a large word you hadn’t heard the definition before. In general, bedding was actually seen as bad but was ignored since you needed it to have children. 
If you were being completely honest with yourself, you were never taught what bedding was. You knew a man laid with a woman, but the details were not given to you. Since you were adamant on becoming a septa, those lessons were never extended to you… 
You could only presume what your brother was doing was bedding… 
You gave up on the religious scripture, though it said many things most of them you couldn’t understand. What you knew in your heart was the thoughts in your mind were sinful, the thing you saw last night was sinful. And if you kept going on like this you would burn in the seven hells. 
But you are young, and curiosity got the best of you.  Which is why you sought out your elder sister, she’s the smartest and least judgmental. If anyone in this realm had the answers you sought after it would be her. So, you forced yourself out of your chambers and into the gardens with her. 
It had just rained the other day, which meant many new sorts of creatures crawled out of the dirt. Underneath the neatly trimmed shrubbery was an array of different worms, in the flower beds there were many beetles and a few flying insects who buzzed constantly. 
Foraging for insects was not something you necessarily enjoyed, but it would get her in high spirits before you used her as a living dictionary. You made your way to the gods wood, a favorite destination of hers. Every time you went you laid in the same position, your head on her lap and her leaned against the tree half asleep. 
“Sister, if I may, can I ask a question?” She nodded silently, stroking your hair between her fingers. “You must swear you won’t get angry.” Helaena let out a soft hmm, enjoying basking in the sun. “What exactly does bedding entail?” Her eyes opened, a bit of surprise lacing her features. “I should have guessed mother never told you... Basically a man puts his penis inside a woman’s body until his seed spills and hopefully a babe will come from it.” 
It was now your turn to look surprised, you opened your mouth to say that was all you needed but she continued. “That’s for producing an heir. If a man lays with a woman for pleasure, they do all sorts of things. A man may put his penis in her mouth, she may sit on his face and have him lick her, sometimes they touch themselves together… That’s what Aegon does when he disappears at night.” 
Now you knew too much and regretted asking. “I believe all of these are sins in your religion so, you don’t have to worry about it. Why do you ask?” You were now flustered, and unspeakably embarrassed. However, speaking to Helaena of such things would probably bring more comfort than confessing to the Septon.., “I saw Aegon coupling last night, in the hallway.” 
She let out a groan, sitting up from her place in the grass. “You know, I can’t count the amount of times Aemond and I have caught him. We specifically said to keep his doings away from you since you so badly yearn to become a septa… I’m sorry you had to witness that.” 
The worst part of it all was that you didn’t regret it. You did in a way, you wished your eyes and mind had remained as pure as they were prior. However, you did not dislike the scene entirely. There was some sick and twisted part of you that wished it was you, that was enraged it was someone else. 
Fool, you chastised yourself. You are breaking three commandments in a single day. Desires of the flesh, jealously, and worst of all incest. The guilt was overwhelming but the burning desire to know more was just as strong. 
You would pray for the gods mercy tonight and every other night until this was gone.
Your mother forced you to attend supper this night. She had been worried you hid yourself away and refused you let you stay that way… She didn’t know you were protecting yourself from unlawful images! The vast table was almost always empty, usually only Aemond, Helaena, you and your mother attended them. You were thankful this was one of the things your brother strayed away from. You don’t think you could look him in the eye after last night.
However, the gods were testing you today just as they did last. In the midst of dining, whilst Helaena was telling you about the butterfly she saw today, he came strolling in. Aegon looked as he usually did, unclean. Though he had a lazy smirk plastered on his face as he took a seat at the table. 
“Sister,” he nodded towards you, a sickly sweet greeting. Your body tensed, a sheen of blush coating your face. The monster had come to pull you into the depths of his depravity and you would not do it. “Nice of you to join us, Aegon.” Your mother gritted through her teeth. “Pray tell, what made you decide to show up today?” 
“Aemond,” your mother attempted to chastise him. He sank back in his chair signaling one of the servants to fill his glass. “I just wished to see my family.” He glanced at you knowingly, you immediately turned your focus to the food in front of you. Your eyes occasionally met and each time they felt as if they scorched your soul. 
“Hmm,” was all Aemond managed to say before he went back to eating. Your grandsire waved a hand so the bard would start playing, anything was better than the silence that shrouded family meals. Supper was no longer appetizing, you simply picked away at your food with the fork. 
The bard began to play a familiar tune, one that many dance to. You closed your eyes and hummed along, ignoring anyone else in the room. For a moment it was peaceful and there were no thoughts plaguing you. Until you felt two fingers tap at your shoulder drawing you out of your daze, “May I have this dance?”
The gods were surely testing your devotion, you fumbled your words, unable to come up with a suitable excuse. “Oh my, how surprising! Sweetie, go dance with your brother.” Your mother nudged you forward, so unaware of the games her own flesh played.
You begrudgingly took his hand, his warmth radiating through you. His grip was firm yet gentle, his hands soft yet taut. Aegon led you to the center of the room, positioning his hand around your waist. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, images of where his hands were last night flooding your brain. 
“You seem flustered today, any particular reason?” He spun you around, speaking lowly so no one else could hear. Somehow you managed to find your voice, “I haven't a clue what you’re saying.” Aegon chuckled, his grip on your squeezing harder than before. Hands traveling lower than what was deemed proper. “Someone as righteous as you shouldn’t be lying.” You dared to look him in his eyes, feeling the room starting to spin around you. Your entire body felt flushed, as if a dragon had shrouded you in their flames.
“I-I don’t lie,” your gaze fell to his feet on the floor. Aegon leaned in close so his hair brushed against your ear. He whispered, “So, if I ask you where you were last night, you’ll tell me the truth?” You looked at him and he looked at you, with that same smirk. You didn’t need to respond; you both knew what you saw. “Did you dream about me too? I swore I heard you calling my name from inside your chambers.”
Your head was spinning, the room going black for a moment. You could hear people talking, you could hear the bard playing, but it was muffled as if you were underwater. You felt your knees become weak, the heat rising to your cheeks. If it wasn’t for Aegon’s grip you surely would have fallen to the floor out of sheer embarrassment. “What a shame it would be if mother found out, you, her perfect septa lusted for your brother.” 
It was as if someone was twisting your insides and trying to break your faith. He was teasing you, simply trying to pull you down to his own depths of depravity. You were not like him, you were not vulgar or licentious. You were better than he was and yet you felt as if you could melt into his touch. His words boiling inside you like a wildfire that reached your core. “M-may the gods have mercy on you, brother.” 
Aegon hummed, his fingers digging into your hips. You closed your eyes and prayed to the gods that your cheeks weren't as red as they felt. Aegon kept dancing, seemingly unfazed by his teasing. The shame you felt was indescribable, there were not enough soaps in the world to cleanse you now.
Once the song came to an end Aegon stopped, slowly bringing you closer to him. He was staring into your eyes, a fire burning inside them. His lips pressed against your forehead, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "I’ll keep this our secret, little septa.” He backed away from you, beckoning goodnight to everyone else. As soon as he left, you took a deep breath. You tried to calm yourself, feeling as if you were standing on a raft in a river while being pulled apart by two separate streams.
A gentle hand touched your shoulder, “don’t let him get to you. He revels in other people's misery.” Helaena stared at him while he left, eyes narrowed in his direction. “Will you take me to bed, please? I don’t feel hungry anymore…” She nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
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The past several nights you were plagued with dreams of sin. If Aegon’s head was not between your legs, then he was inside of you. If he was not on top of you, he was beside you touching you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Each night you awoke to a wet bed, sweat on your skin and each morning you took a bath and tried to scrub away the night before. 
It had gotten to the point you started to question the gods. Was this all a test to your devotion? If these feelings were so strong, was it truly sin after all? Yes, you reminded yourself, this was all terrible. Aegon was the living embodiment of everything the gods were against, a whore, a drunk, and everything else you could think of. Maybe that was why you were drawn to him; he was nothing like you. 
You wanted to be better than him, you wanted to be better than anyone. Yet, you felt weak in his presence, you felt your mind start to spin each time he talked to you. If you could not escape him, maybe you could change him.   You were sure that if Aegon was yours then the gods would forgive your sins, they would understand your passion and dedication. You had to believe that they would, after all, they were the ones who gave you this strength in the first place.
The sept was your very first destination of the day, the place where you would beg for forgiveness and for the gods to ease this burning inside of you. You lit a candle in front of you, lowering yourself to your knees and lacing your hands together. 
You took a deep breath, “I come before you to pray for forgiveness and to beg for help. For I have fallen victim to this burning desire within me… You know I am much purer than the depraved crowd. You know I do not feel jealousy nor hatred for any of your other children… And yet when I see my brother all I can feel is desire, when he speaks with another woman I am filled with hate. I do not understand why I am not strong enough to fight this… So, I beg you, let him feel the fires of the seven hells and free me from this torment. Or give him to me and me alone and let me change him.” 
You bowed your head, shutting your eyes and waiting for the gods to grant you a sign. For a moment, there was silence. You opened your eyes and stared at the candle in front of you, watching the flame flicker. Then you heard footsteps, “I should have assumed you would be here.” Aegon stalked forward, glancing at the statues around you. “Pray tell, why are you here?” 
You felt your heart begin to pound, each beat like a hammer to the side of your ribs. Aegon crossed his arms, “I come here… sometimes.” His gaze fell on you, you couldn't stand being under his scrutiny. 
“Since you’ve come so far, kneel with me brother,” you reached a hand out waiting for him to take it. Aegon stood there unsure, religion was never his forte. Still he took your hand and got on his knees in front of the gods. He cleared his throat, "what exactly am I meant to do?"
You gave him a gentle smile, "pray for mercy and forgiveness for your sins. And ask for guidance."  Aegon scoffed, “is that what you do? Pray for forgiveness? What sins have you committed that need prayer?” You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you stared at him. "I simply pray for others' sake." Aegon clicked his tongue, "Lying in the house of the gods too? You’ve really taken a turn for the worse.” 
Now all you could feel was guilt, was he always so capable of seeing through you? Would the gods punish you for a white lie? “It’s private.” He chuckled to himself, moving to sit on top of the stone you prayed before. “Who better to confess to than me? The gods will surely judge you for they’re too pure but I’m, as you said before, the living embodiment of sin.”
You stared up at him, from this angle he did seem godly to you, as if he was your sole god. As if he held a power over you that you did not possess. He beckoned you forward with a finger, placing it under your chin and lifting it so you faced him.  "Come little septa, tell me what your holy self has done."
The beating of your heart grew louder, threatening to burst from your chest and fill the sept with its frantic beating. "I- I have sinful desires… of the flesh." Your voice quivered as you confessed, the guilt of lying to the gods filling you to the brim. Aegon hummed, moving his finger from your chin and placing it against your lips. “Who has caused such vulgar things?”
He stared into your eyes, they seemed like an ocean of sin, filled with the horrors of the world and yet somehow, they were as clear as glass. You wanted to stare into them forever, as if they were a trap that you could not escape once you fell in. “Y-you.”
 He pressed his thumb to your bottom lip, tugging at it gently. His gaze turned heated, almost like that of a wild beast. “Then you have been praying to the wrong gods. If only you worshiped me, prayed to me, I could make it go away.” You could feel yourself start to sweat, a feeling of warmth forming between your legs. It was as if he was lighting a match in your stomach, slowly igniting your flesh with his burning gaze.
"t-teach me, how to devote myself to you instead.”  Aegon leaned closer, His warm breath hitting your lips. His voice was a low whisper, "As you wish, little septa," His lips crashed against yours, his hand tearing away your hair net. It was like he had torn a hole in the very fabric of the sept, the moment you entered the gods seemed to disappear. Everything about Aegon made you feel weak, he made you want to abandon your beliefs, make you want to throw away your virtue. 
His kiss was rough, but passionate. It was like he was devouring your very soul and sucking out your very being. Aegon began to unlace his trousers, his cock springing loose. Your eyes widened, you’d never seen a male appendage before, and you surely did not think they were this big. "Open your mouth." You obeyed, opened your mouth so your tongue was in view.  Aegon let out a low groan, "such a good little septa." 
Your lips stretched around his cock as he forced it into your mouth. His hips bucked forward, his cock hitting the back of your throat. He moaned, gently tugging at your hair to signal you to move. “Suck harder.” He looked down at you, his lustful gaze boring into your very soul. 
You did your best to please him, your head moving up and down, your tongue licking his shaft. Tears were beginning to leak from your eyes as his tip occasionally hit the back of your throat. "Fuck, " His hand ran through your hair, gently stroking it. 
He pulled himself out of your mouth, “We have on too many clothes.” He made quick work of his own clothes before tearing off your dress, stripping you naked in front of the gods. Aegon leaned back, his eyes wandering across your exposed flesh. "My, you are perfect, little septa."
Aegon pulled you onto his lap, one hand holding onto your waist while the other went between your legs. His finger slid against your folds, "So wet already." You shivered, a whine escaping your throat. "Aegon-"
"You’ve never touched yourself before, have you? Oh, you innocent thing," Aegon smirked, lifting you by your waist. His cock prodded at your entrance, the head slipping inside of you. He moved his hands, placing one on your hip while the other gripping your thigh. Aegon pushed you down, his cock forcing itself into your tight cunt. 
You let out a loud scream, the feeling of being stretched making your legs weak. He groaned; his cock buried inside of you. "That's right, scream loud enough for all the gods to hear." Aegon's hands moved to your waist, moving you up and down his cock.
"Aegon, ahh!" You cried out, each time he hit your center. You gripped onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. "S-so good,” his words slurred. The holy sept was filled with the sound of your skin slapping together and the sounds he was forcing out of you. 
Your cunt began to tighten, a sickly-sweet heat building inside of you. “A-Aeg,” you cried out. He slowed his thrusts, biting his lip hard “not yet,” he pushed you off of him and onto the hot stone, coating your breasts and stomach in candle wax.
He moved behind you, his hand wrapping around your throat. "You're not allowed to cum until I do." He rammed himself into you, hitting the spot inside that made your legs turn to jelly. Aegon moaned, "s-good sister.” 
He pounded into you, his cock stretching you open. Your head was spinning, everything was hazy, and you couldn't tell where you ended and he began. Aegon slipped his fingers underneath you, rubbing at your clit. His pace was ruthless, each thrust making your head spin.
You bit your lip as Aegon rutted into you like an animal. Your legs started to become weak, shaking from the stimulation. "Fuck," he hissed, "Cum with me, little septa.” You whimpered loudly, the coil in your stomach tightening.  
His thrusts became sloppy, his fingers circling your clit faster. Your body went rigid, your toes curling and your vision blurring. A wave of ecstasy hit you, sending shivers down your spine. "Fuck fuck, fuck-" Aegon buried himself deep inside of you, your cunt squeezing his seed out of him. 
He fell on top of you, panting into your ear. His cock slipped out of you, cum dripping from your abused pussy. Aegon pressed a kiss to your temple, "my little septa," he chuckled, "You should have told me how you felt sooner."
Your entire body felt sore, yet you were completely at peace. You'd never felt this way before, your mind was clouded, and you couldn't even begin to think straight. Aegon kissed you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth and making you melt. "Don't fret, I'll take care of you from now on, sweet sister."
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acommonanomaly · 28 days
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Curufin for @feanorianweek.
Inspired by a scene from my fic, What Fades Away.
Excerpt:
Maitimo shook his head, smiling softly as he approached Tyelkormo’s room. He himself was dressed and ready to depart, though he knew it would be some time before his younger brothers were wrangled into their best robes and made presentable.
Maitimo paused with his hand on the door handle, glancing up briefly at the colorful spider hovering above him on the carefully wrought filaments of its web. He was not overly fond of spiders himself, so he understood Makalaurë’s aversion, though he had to admit that it was a magnificent specimen.
Atar had described to Tyelkormo all he knew of the species, remarking on the artistry with which it wove its web, his voice carrying some of the same admiration he expressed when describing the creations of some of the Noldor’s most renowned craftsmen. His appreciation had infected Tyelkormo, who had loudly let it be known that he would not have anyone disturb his guest.
Maitimo pushed the door open and entered the room, and he was immediately struck by the difference in the quality of the air here.
Tyelkormo’s windows were always open, and smells both earthy and airy drifted in along with the singing of birds and the trilling of the insects outside.
His room was what Amil affectionately called an ‘organized mess.’ Tyelkormo seemed determined to bring the outdoors in, having scattered about neatly presented collections of minerals, gemstones, and other natural things that caught his fancy. Charts of pressed flowers and leaves adorned the walls, and scattered around a plant that had long since began to overflow its pot were life-like marble sculptures of forest creatures that Amil had made for him.
Maitimo ducked beneath a wooden bird that hung from the ceiling, its wings slowly flapping so that it bobbed up and down, and he moved deeper into the room. He stopped when a live bird let out a shrill twitter from the window sill and flapped its glossy black wings.
“Good morning,” Maitimo said politely to the bird. Let his brother not accuse him of being rude to his guests.
The bird cocked its head to the side as it watched him, a beady pale yellow eye unblinking.
“Nelyo?” Tyelkormo called out.
Maitimo walked to the bed and pulled back the gauzy netting that surrounded it. The little bells sewn into fabric chimed delicately, and Curufinwë sat back on his heels, his grey eyes going wide as though he had been caught misbehaving. 
In each hand he clutched the carved wooden figure of an animal, and there were several more scattered around him on the bed. Though he had reached the age where he proudly proclaimed to anyone who would listen that he was no longer a baby, he did not mind at all when Tyelkormo coddled him and made him toys. Tyelkormo sat cross-legged next to him, whittling away at a chunk of wood that was beginning to take on the likeness of a bear. Wood shavings littered his lap and the bed, and Maitimo shook his head before tying back the netting and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Amil won’t like you doing that on the bed.”
“Then don’t tell her,” Tyelkormo said curtly, though his gaze darted to the open door.
“Amil wants Curvo to have a bath, and you should be getting ready, too.”
“Turko doesn’t want to go to the celebration. Why must he go?” Curufinwë asked, giving Maitimo a guileless look that might very well have worked on Amil, or even Atar.
Maitimo turned to Tyelkormo. “Tyelkormo, what have you been telling him?”
“I was just talking.” Tyelkormo kept his eyes lowered, continuing to whittle at the chunk of wood. “And anyway, I don’t see why I should have to go.”
“Because we’re all going.”
“It’s a minor celebration. No one will miss me.”
Maitimo sighed. Tyelkormo had been invited to the house of Oromë and was eager to join the Vala for a hunt. Though the invitation did not stipulate that he should arrive by any certain time, his excitement over the prospect of spending time with the great hunter made him impatient. The celebration they were to attend seemed to be even more of a chore to him than it normally would be.
When Tyelkormo had expressed his desire to be left behind, though, their father had said that if the rest of them had to suffer through such a tedious gathering then so would Tyelkormo.
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foreverbloodmoon · 3 months
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Chariot Rides | Clarisse x Cabin 10 Girlie
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Summary : When during the chariot rides and the magic border around Camp Half-blood is gone, crazy birds attack.
Warnings : pain, blood, crying, insecure thoughts and sayings
Notes : I have not slept all night, it’s currently 6AM and I’m halfway through Sea Of Monsters so this’ll be short. This could be a pt 2 to the other Clarisse scenario.
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The chariots raced at top speed, each one targeting another. For being “Aphrodite’s girl’s” they were doing well, in a secure third place so far. Everybody assumed cabin 10 were just lazy, doing their makeup and hair, but they also trained, usually just earlier than any cabin would wake up at.
Ares’ was right ahead of the Aphrodite chariot with Athena following closely just behind. There was barely any space between said chariots and while cabin 10’s chariot was decked out in pink paint and white lace, it still held many weapons the opposite of its design.
As Lilani tossed her hand knives to jam the wheels of the Hermes’ chariot, causing the cart to stop despite their horses great attempts.
The birds in the trees called and cawed, as if an alarm. The birds in the trees—making a god awful radar-like noise—had gotten even louder, distracting all the chariots from attacking.
“What the…” Lilani said before the birds swooped down at everyone, pecking their beaks and chirping noise into their ears. The birds didn’t bother attack anyone on the chariots despite the speed at which they were all racing at.
The birds pecked at Lilani’s skin, picking small cuts and punctures into her once perfect complexion. She cried out in pain as the driver of her chariot crashed into a guard wall along the course, sending them flying out the car and crashing to the floor.
A pain shot up her arm, not one too bad but enough to throw you off guard. Barren, bloodthirsty birds still carved red streaks into her skin, making the girl try and get up to run away, only to fall a couple feet later.
She could feel as the razor sharp beak drag around her face, etching a long red, bleeding line across her eyebrows and down her eye.
Ares’ chariot had a net above it, protection from the killer birds but when Clarisse heard Lilani screaming, she faltered for a second, allowing Athena to pass by into first. Annabeth stuck out her tongue at Clarisse for a moment. “Stymphalian birds!” Annabeth yelled from her chariot.
“They’ll strip everyone down to bone if we don’t drive them away!” She yelled at Percy, who—by the looks of it, was trying to calm down Tyson his cyclops brother. “Tyson, we’re turning around!” Percy yelled, grabbing the reigns from Tyson’s hands.
When Clarisse realized what that meant, she frantically looked around, desperate to find Lilani before it was too late.
“Going the wrong way?” Tyson frowned. “I’m sorry.” He dipped his head down, one eye with a tear on each side.
The Poseidon and Athena chariots ran off the tracks, towards the stands where Annabeth yellled “Hero’s to arms!” But no one could hear her.
The Ares’ chariot stopped long ago, losing the victory they would've had. Lilani was still trying to get up and to safety but always fell after around 10 feet. “Lili!” Clarisse called, trying to look through the mayhem and birds swarming her for her lover.
“Clarisse!” The screaming girl cried out, finally being able to stand up without falling back down like a domino. Her arms flailed around as she tried to push the birds away from her.
Lilani ran as fast as she could from the birds and to anywhere safe, the water, the cabins, anywhere. The cabins were the closest so, she ran as fast as she could until she was in the cabin and shut the door behind herself.
Before she even realized how much pain she was in, she looked for the closest mirror and into her reflection. What she looked into wasn't herself anymore, it was a girl who was cut, bleeding, and bruised and-
"Ugly..." She whispered, fingers delicately dragging along her own face, outlining every imperfection that was once perfect.
The cabin 10 door opened slowly while Clarisse popped her head in. "Lili?" She asked softly, stepping into the cabin and nearly letting out a gasp at the sight of her holding a mirror, crying and whispering "I'm ugly again."
"Lili..." Clarrise--as gently as she could--placed her and on Lilani's shoulder, careful not to hurt any unseen injuries. The girl jumped at the touch only to realize it was only Clarisse. But Clarisse was the last person she wanted to see.
"Mom's gonna be so mad at me." Lilani cried into Clarisse's shoulder as she wrapped her arms around her. Not knowing what to do, Clarisse just combed her fingers through her lover's hair--which was now tinted red from blood.
"I'm gonna go grab a washcloth okay?"
Lilani hummed in response.
-
Clarisse had tried as carefully as she could to clean Lilani's wounds, not wanting her to be in any more pain but there was only so much she could do. "The cuts aren't deep at all, they should heal well with scars."
"Scars..." Lilani's head dipped down. She hated scars, she thought they made you ugly. "I'm gonna be ugly again. All the other girls will laugh-" "You aren't ugly. I think you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen." Clarisse smiled.
"Really?" The (h/c) girl blushed. "Of course."
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sanjoongie · 11 months
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Dragon Oracle
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🐉Submission for @thelargefrye Starseed Jam event! 🐉Pairing: Choi Jongho x Reader (f) x Jeong Yunho 🐉Genre: enemies to lovers au, poly!ot8, fantasy au 🐉Word Count: 15,916 (yeah this bitch is wordy but it's an entire saga in one sitting, so sit back and enjoy the show) 🐉Warnings:  fighting with swords, blood, death, penetrative sex with no barrier, overstim, mentions of mxm, dom!reader x sub!jongho, scratching/marking, dom!yunho x sub!reader, big cock! yunho, hair pulling, finger sucking, clit stimulation, degradation kink, choking, future fucks with San and seonghwa {separately dear God why did I write it like that no} and mingi (cunninlingus) , mentions of mate bond-testing sex with yeosang? 🐉Rated: 18+ MDNI, smut, angst, romance
🐉Summary: Dragon from the window au~ What if yn was born as a dragon oracle instead? (please read smalls headcanons and fics before you read mine, you will not regret it! especially mean hongjoong a la ugly dragon!)
🐉Dedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland, my lovely beta’s. And to smalls: this is my love letter to the wonderful world you have created. Know that I will always be a fan of your work, your writing and this world 🥰
🐉🐉🐉
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"Fraud."
"You're not even a true dragon!"
"Filthy oracle."
Your kind had fallen out of favor centuries ago. When the clans fought the witches, using their dark magic and assassins, they practically wiped the oracle's out. For you, the oracle's were now used for the desperate, for the weak, but never truly taken seriously by any of the high ranking dragons, including the prince. Especially considering that any oracle could not turn into a dragon. It was said that it was a curse on the oracles for failing the dragon clans all those eons ago…
You were from a long line of dragon oracles who could trace themselves back to the wars. The problem with that lie in that everyone was living a lie. Most of the way that the current oracles conjured their ‘visions’ was with a lot of smoke and mirrors, cheap tricks that fascinated the hatchlings and elderly but the sharp-eyed dragons of the clan never fell for it. You knew you were about to be hauled off to the council to vote if you were to remain in the clan if you attempted to fool one of the dragons who could see right through the cheap tricks. Finding one of them at your door was hardly a good omen.
Lucky for you, you kept out of their way, no matter how handsome some of the higher ranking dragons were. The prince certainly was haughty, noble and beautiful but some of his mates were also akin to sparkly jewels. That was until the day you learned that one of them was your mate as well.
You were residing in a hammock, swinging around in the incense-filled room that you shared with your hatchling brood, your ‘sacred sisters’, when your eyes clouded over. You began to scream in fear and fell from your hammock. One of your sister’s ran for the eldest oracle, guessing that she would be the best to help you in your current state. 
While you were left in the arms of one of your other sisters, you saw something that didn’t quite make sense to you at first. You saw a man who was dressed like a dragon hunter and he brandished a weapon that made you feel like you just had received a punch to the gut. There was no doubt that that sword was made from your mother’s great silver talon. 
You received a quick flash of your mother’s final moments, tragic and harsh, being lashed down to the earth by strong nets and to never fly again. Your mother had mated with your father, from that long line of oracles, much to the chagrin of her family. She had a true form which you always envied. That’s why it hurt you even more when you had lost her to dragon hunters. She always seemed to be the one true dragon who accepted you. 
But that was not all you were privy to. You watched as the dragon hunter approached one of the prince’s mates. You saw the brown hair and knew it was Jongho. He struggled in his human form, a delicate but strong family of chains wrapping around him, prominently around his shoulders. 
“Release me!” Jongho demanded with a bellow, never ceasing to fight his confines.
The dragon hunter chuckled. “Why would I do that when I have the clear advantage here? I’ll simply drag you back to our camp and we will harvest your dragon parts when we force you back into your more appealing form.”
Your heart dropped. Was this a vision of the future or was this happening in real time? You decided you didn’t care once the vision adjusted one more time.
You were shown a domestic scene full of love and adoration. You were holding Jongho and he was allowing you to card your hands through his hair. “You’re mine,” Jongho growled below you.
“Of course,” You murmured, placing a gentle kiss on the top of his head.
“But I have to share you,” Jongho said in a voice that had a slight whine to it.
“If I’m mate to one, I'm going to be mate to the rest of them, Jongho,” You told him in a calm voice.
“I just wanted something that was solely mine, for once…” Jongho admitted.
“You share the other’s fine,” You couldn't help but laugh under your breath.
“Yes, but I thought…” Jongho allowed himself a moment to pout. He was softer with you. You couldn't put your finger on it, but something had allowed him to open up and be vulnerable with you. “...I thought perhaps you would be my mate, and only mine. I didn’t think I would have to share.”
You rubbed your cheek into the crown of his hair. “Well for now, at least, it’s just you and me. It will take some convincing for the others.”
Your eyes slowly became unclouded and you were able to see the wrinkled face of the eldest dragon oracle within the clan. Awe was clearly written all over her face. “A true oracle. Finally!” she shouted.
Your sisters had all gathered around you and gasped as the elder spoke. “Surely you kid.”
The granny cupped your face with her withered hands and smiled happily, tears brimming in her eyes. “My grandmother was a true oracle. They killed her in fear that she would ruin the rest of our lives. But I saw her eyes turn cloudy only an hour before she predicted her death. They say that our eyes go cloudy because we gave up our dragon form for the ability to see. The clouds are our spirit selves flying the skies of the future.”
Your sisters murmured amongst themselves but you gently pushed yourself up from the ground, remembering your vision. “I must find Jongho!”
One of your sister’s screwed up her nose. “Why? That warrior will only spit on you if you talk to him.”
“He’s in danger!” You shouted, feeling sick to your stomach with fear.
The elder oracle pointed to the door. “If anyone would know of his whereabouts, it would be his other mates. You cannot approach Hongjoong or Seonghwa easily, but the other warriors will know where he patrols. Go, child, follow your vision!”
Based on your vision, you knew you would be fighting if you were going to help Jongho, so you quickly grabbed your sword that sat uselessly in its sheath by your bed. If you were good for anything, it was your sword fighting abilities. Your father trained you, first to protect your mother and later to protect yourself. You didn't have a dragon form to rely on, so you had to hone your human one.
You ran to the training grounds where most of the warriors honed their skills. There you found Yeosang with chain sickle. He was currently wrapping the chain around his arm and hand gripping the sickle part hard enough to make his muscles bulge. "Is Jongho out on patrol?" You demanded.
Yeosang stared you, looking you up and down, clearly unimpressed you were talking to him. "Aren't you from the oracle family? Why would you need to know where Jongho is?"
"Yeosang, please. I am a part of this clan. Set aside our differences and tell me where Jongho is. I might not have enough time to get to him!"
Yeosang gives you a look full of judgment. "He's gone to the forest east of here, patrolling all the way to the mountains. He could be anywhere."
You placed a hand on Yeosang's arm. "Thank you."
And that's when you saw clouds again, obscuring your vision and showing you a glimpse into the future.
"Do you…do you think you could forgive me?" Yeosang's eyes filled with sorrow as he looked at your bandaged arm.
"You just saw a human, you weren't thinking. Being in that much pain must have made your instincts as a dragon flare. I'm sure if--" your breath caught in your throat. There it was again. That guilt branded into your skull: you would never understand truly being a dragon.
"I'll take you out," Yeosang rushed out his words. "When you're better. I'll take you for a flight. Everyone from our clan should know how the wind feels on their face when they fly."
You couldn't help but feel emotional. "You don't have to do that," You declined softly.
Yeosang pushed your chin up so that you would meet his eyes. "You're my mate. I want to share that with you."
Your eyes unclouded and Yeosang looked at you with round eyes. "What was that?"
You smiled awkwardly. "Oracle stuff."
"Wha-?" Before Yeosang could make you explain yourself, you were gone. 
You ran to the stables. The horses were there for farming and tilling the fields that helped feed the livestock that the clan ate. But this wouldn't have been the first time you hopped onto the back of one of the docile geldings. You were desperate to feel something of your dragon origins, so horses had been your bridge to that.
So you galloped through the eastern forest, weaving amongst the animal trails, eyes peeled for Jongho’s dragon form. You cursed under your breath, sure that you were going to arrive too little too late.
You bursted into a clearing and saw two small bodies in the distance. Could that be them? You urged your horse forward, whispering to him of the sweet sugar you would feed him later if he rode like the wind to get you to Jongho’s side. The horse tore through the tall grass and you confirmed it was Jongho struggling in his bonds before the dragon hunter who had killed your mother when you were young.
You let out a yell full of rage and fury and halted the horse, jumping to the ground. Your sword came free of its sheath and soon it was clanging against the hunters. 
"Oh, dragon, is this human a friend of yours?" The hunter said through gritted teeth.
You bared yours at him in retaliation. "I'm your worst nightmare. A dragon who fights like a human."
You could tell the hunter had truly only used his strength against his opponents; he had no finesse. He barely was able to block any of your strikes and half of his were easy to dodge. He wasn't a fighter, he was a hunter. Bullying was in his nature, winning a sword fight was not.
With one final guttural yell, you pulled back your sword and plunged it into the gap of his neck and shoulder of his boiled leather armor. The man died with a quiet, bloody gurgle and then it was done.
You wiped the blade on his corpse and turned to check on Jongho. But first, you went to a knee. That last thing you wanted was to insult Jongho. "How can I help you?"
"Did you…did you just save my life? How?" Jongho said in disbelief.
"I saw you being captured in a premonition." 
Jongho blinked at you. "And so you came to save me?"
"I…" You eyed the ground. "I had to. That hunter killed my mother. He was going to kill you."
"But I've never even acknowledged your existence. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've called your family a pale shadow of a dragon."
You grimaced in mental pain. "You are a part of my clan. You are the prince's mate. You are--" my mate.
"Quickly, help me get out of these chains. They're binding me to human form!" Jongho urged you.
You moved to stand behind him and found the clasp and it fell to the ground. Jongho rolled his neck and shoulders in relief. "Can you…should you transform?" You wondered, unsure if he would take insult.
Jongho turned and shook his head. "I don't think I should." He changed the subject immediately, "You fight like a feral creature!"
"The hunter was a--oh the sword!" You remembered how you identified the hunter in the first place.
You pulled the sword from underneath the dragon hunter and brandished it. The silver hue of an immortal creature turned rainbow tinged in the light. You could feel the connection to the sword; you could say with everything that made you you, that this sword had been carved from your mother’s talon. 
"You should name it Rosa's Bane," Jongho suggested.
"You knew of my mother?" You frowned heavily.
"Of course I do. They tell us all her story so that we know what happens to bad little dragons." Jongho’s gaze dropped in shame.
"It's okay," You say softly, "I'm aware of what they say."
"But!" Jongho’s booted feet touched yours as he halted in front of you, teeth snapping shut. "You're a real oracle! And you saved my life."
"All I ask in return is for you to be kinder to the oracle family," You asked in a hushed tone. "I'll leave you be then."
Before you could turn and head back to the gelding, Jongho's hand went to your bicep. "Wait. I owe you an apology. You clearly aren't only about yourself and your tricks. There's more to you than meets the eye."
You let a small smile of hope pull the corner of your lips. "Apology accepted."
After saving Jongho, the elders of the clan held a council. You recounted your experience honestly. Hongjoong sat at his place--on a throne made from melted stone that could only be heated by dragon's fire--looking bored, head in hand. Your elder collaborated with your state, your urgency to save Jongho. Even Yeosang came before the council, his deep voice echoing against the old lava tunnels of the mountain. He confirmed your clouded vision state. And when Jongho took the center of the natural auditorium, passionately speaking of how you saved him and avenged your mother, and therefore were a hero of the clan, well, no one could deny that things were about to change.
Suddenly, you had your own rooms. They were filled with silk pillows and luscious smelling incense. You were given lost treasures of the clan that were put away in an old horde cave, for dragon's never disregarded their treasures, simply rotated through their favorites. An old copper bowl filled with embers for scrying. A large book and stand to record your visions. Even old toe bones of the first oracle dragon, said to speak the truth of your soul. 
You were declared oracle of the dragon clan and had an official standing. You were on equal terms as Seonghwa, the right hand of Hongjoong himself. Hongjoong would have nothing to do with you, or so it seemed as if you never saw the prince. But Seonghwa, on the other hand, you saw a lot of. 
Part of your official duties, especially as oracle, was to be privy to the decision making of the clan. Where the next patrol should be, when they should celebrate a new brood of hatchlings being brought into this world, the list went on. Seonghwa begrudgingly worked with you. You could tell he was unsure of you. He didn’t trust you, but clearly you had saved Jongho, so you got points for that.
“Seonghwa?” You dared to grab his attention as he was working on the details of the next feast.
“Yes?” He said in his clipped but coldly polite tone that he always took on when addressing you.
“What’s this map over here?” The edges of your vision were getting blurry and you were starting to learn that you were closer to a clue of a true seeing.
Seonghwa’s eyes flitted to what you were pointing to on the table. “That? Just Hongjoong planning on visiting a settlement. It’s nothing to worry about. The plans are all set.”
Your hand trembled as you moved to reach for it. Seonghwa was back to focusing on his writing, quill feather moving diligently. “Something about this map feels weird.”
Seonghwa scoffed. “Are you going to pretend you know something about it, Oracle?”
“Seonghwa, I’m serious!” You raised your voice at him.
Seonghwa’s eyes snapped up to watch you as you finally snatched up the map but no vision occurred. He let out a mocking laugh. “Looks like you can only see visions when it’s convenient for you, hmm?”
You narrowed your eyes at him and that’s when he gave up his writing and stood up. “You may be a bit of a warrior in your own right, but you forget your place. I am a dragon. I will put you down if need be.”
You threw up your hands in frustration. “Because God forbid I actually help someone. Do you know how close Jongho was to--”
Seonghwa’s long legs took him close to you but you side stepped him before he could touch you. You didn’t want what happened with Yeosang to happen right now. Even if it would prove to Seonghwa that you were a true oracle first hand, you didn’t want the knowledge that Seonghwa was also your mate. Not right now, at least. Seonghwa regarded you with suspicion but did not attempt again to grab you. “You're dismissed, Oracle. Sleep well.”
“Gladly,” You replied to him curtly and left the room posthaste.
You sped walk to your quarters and slammed the door for good measure. You also took your meal within your room as well. You were tired of having to fight for your spot. All you wanted to do was help the clan, but you couldn’t if both Seonghwa and Hongjoong were against you. You felt like your seeing abilities were a curse at this point.
Sometime in the evening, when the sun had been laid to rest and the moon watched over the world, there was a knock on your door. “Go away, Seonghwa!” You shouted, throwing a shoe at your door, “I don’t want to hear about how useless I am.”
“Oracle?” A different voice came through the wood of the door. “It’s Jongho.”
You rushed to your door, feeling chagrined. “Jongho, I’m so sorry!’
Jongho was sporting a slight frown. “Is Seonghwa causing you trouble? I could talk to him for you.”
You shook your head. “No. That’s my battle to fight. Don’t worry about it.” Your eyes took in the mysterious robe that Jongho had on. “How are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you since I rescued you.”
Jongho’s turned his head left then right, eyes searching the hallway before saying “Do you think I could come in?”
“Sure, sure,” You opened your door and let Jongho come into your room.
He took a few steps, head swinging to take in the different objects you had. “Have you had any visions…since that day?”
You shook your head and closed the door. “Either there is nothing important enough to see or it was a fluke,” You laughed bitterly.
Jongho spun around. “Don’t say that!”
You cocked your head in curiosity. “What’s wrong?”
Jongho grasped his robe near his collarbones with two hands. “You can’t say that your visions have been a fluke.”
You took a step closer to Jongho. “Because?”
“Because…” Jongho took a deep breath and looked you in the eyes honestly. “Because you saw we were mates, didn’t you?”
You gasped. “How did you…?” 
“Oracle, I feel things for you that I have only felt for my other mates,” Jongho said in a hushed tone, his eyes dilating. “I burn for you.” 
“I--Jongho--” You started to step backwards. You knew in theory Jongho was yours but nothing could have prepared you for this.
For every step you took backwards, Jongho took a step forwards. “I took the device that attempted to seal me to human form from that fateful day. I took it and made it into something as a memento; the day I met my mate.”
You shook your head, unable to find the words to tell him to stop. “You shouldn’t--does anyone else--?”
“Do you want to see it?” Jongho looked at you through his eyelashes flirtatiously. 
You swallowed but couldn't find any moisture in your mouth. “Do I want to see it?”
Without another word, Jongho dropped his robe. He wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing underneath it, but he did have something adorning his body. The same chains that bound him to human form were now made to frame his chest, falling along his shoulders and encircling his neck. You felt like your heartbeat was caught in your throat, like you had swallowed a hummingbird and it was looking to escape. 
“Oh, Jongho…” You said in awe of the picture he cut in the warmth of your candlelight.
“I have been trying to find the right moment to tell the others but I cannot hold back any longer. You saved my body and now I want to pay you back with that body. I must mate with you. I need to be inside of you,” Jongho begged, his eyes looking desperate.
“They will only hate me more!” You protested, “Don’t put me in that position, Jongho.”
Jongho shook his head. “I will not let them.” He placed a hand on the door that stood at your back, trapping you against it. “You protected me once, let me protect you now.”
Your last shred of protesting was cast aside then. So used to the cold attitude the majority of dragonkind treated you with, you caved under the need to be loved. You pressed your body and your lips to Jongho and he moaned into your mouth. "I'll take this offering of your body," You said in between eating up those plush lips of his.
"Please take me," Jongho whined again.
It was your turn to push while Jongho receded. Soon, the back of his legs hit the lounge you had in case your visions came on while looking into the embers or tossed the toe bones. He sat down heavily and you pulled up your diaphanous skirts to straddle Jongho’s leg.
Your forefinger traced Jongho’s collarbones and then both your hands raked your nails down his chest, pulling at his tight and sensitive nipples. Jongho let out a guttural grunt and you licked your lips in anticipation. 
"What's this, Jongho?" You reached in between your body and his and found his cock standing to attention. It twitched in your hands and Jongho whimpered.
"It's yours, it's all yours," Jongho babbled.
"Mine?" You asked, interest coating your voice, "Don't you share this with others? Perhaps they might protest, hmmm?"
Jongho shook his head, his cheeks jiggling at his alacrity. "Yours, yours, yours, for tonight, my body is yours."
You started to pump his cock in your hand. Jongho’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and the back of his head hit the back of the lounge. "Please, your touch is so good. Feels so good." Jongho takes a moment to swallow and breathe out and he sounded like he was drowning in lust. "D-don't make me come in your hand. Mercy, please."
You languidly pumped his cock. "Are you truly asking for mercy?"
"No," Jongho admitted quickly and squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment. "I want you to ruin me for everyone else."
You leaned down to whisper into Jongho’s ear. "I could have you bent over on my bed, tongue in your ass and hand wrapped around your dick, making you fall apart for me but that is not mating, is it, my pet?"
When you pulled back, Jongho looked up at you with shiny, bright brown eyes. "No."
"Then," You brought his cock to your entrance and rubbed it against your leaking hole, "Let's join and become one, hmmm?"
Your own skin was feverishly hot, feeling the need for Jongho as much as he had for you. It wasn't until you pushed down on him that you felt some sort of relief. 
Jongho’s hands flew to your hips, holding you there. "Wait, wait, I've wanted this for too long, let me--let me drink it in."
You lasted all of two seconds staying still before you clenched around him and he let out a strangled moan. "Please?"
"You forget your place," You said in a guttural tone as you began to weave your hips in a figure eight shape. "You said you were mine for the taking, remember?"
You turned Jongho’s face harshly and began to suck and lick up his neck. After each successful mark, you whispered "Mine" eliciting a shiver each time from Jongho.
When you finally get to his jawline you decided it was time to reward Jongho with a kiss to his lips. "Such a good pet, letting me take what I want from you, hmm?" You tugged at his bottom lip briefly with your teeth and he groaned for you again.
"I'm yours," Jongho whispered.
"Not until I take wholly what is mine," You growled.
You began a relentless pace, bouncing on Jongho’s cock. His whines were back, desperate and needy. "We will only be mated once you have come inside of me, Jongho. Need you to release your seed and then the deed is done."
You watched almost predatorily as the Adam's apple in Jongho’s throat bobbed up and down. "You--you first!" He said with a warbled shout.
You hooked a finger through Jongho's chained necklace and pulled him closer to you. "Was that an order?"
Jongho flinched at the sound of your dangerous purr. "No…"
“Then you will come. Now,” You commanded.
Jongho held you down on his cock and spurted inside of you, his noises of satisfaction and neediness filling the air. You slowed down your pace to simply winding your hips as Jongho came down from his high but you didn’t stop. His fingernails dug into your ass soon, however. 
“Too much,” He said through gritted teeth.
“Too much?” You smiled, “Didn’t you say you needed to be inside of me? Didn’t you want me to come too?”
Jongho nodded but whimpered at the overstimulation of his cock. The urge to pull yourself off of him and kiss and lick his cock surged through you; to have another dragon in your thrall touched a side of you that you didn’t know had the potential to develop but you suppressed it. You needed to seal the deal. You knew it in your bones that this was a joint mission.
So you pushed Jongho’s hair out of his face and kissed his nose, his cheeks, even his eyelids until his whines of overstimulation became groans of a second climax. “You can do it for me, pet, you can endure it so that I can come for you, right? You’re doing so well for me, letting me take care of you like this, hmm? You trust me right?”
Jongho’s eyes were vulnerable and it was as if he was removing all of his layers to you and only you. “I trust you with my life.”
“Then let’s go again, shall we?” You nuzzled your nose against his and he nodded. 
You began to build your pleasure back up, brick by brick, thrust by thrust, until you were tingling again. Jongho was practically dripping out of you, and with your own slick adding to his cum, your room was filled with wet, lewd noises. 
Jongho was pussy-drunk again, however. His arms were lax at his side, his mouth open and drooling a bit, the only part of him truly moving was his pelvis muscles tensing for your bounce. “You’re so warm and wet,” He whimpered.
“You enjoy being inside of me that much, my pet?” You asked.
“I love your pussy,” Jongho moaned, his tongue coming out to lick at the drool from the side of his mouth.
“Then make this pussy come, Jongho,” You whispered sensually.
Jongho’s eyebrows furrowed cutely as he attempted to focus enough to aid you in coming. He pressed his lips together and fucked up into your pussy as you brought your hips downwards. When he started to hit that spongy part inside of you that was making you see stars, you knew you were getting close.
“Oh Jongho, just like that, hnnnnnn,” You started to whine as your climax got closer and closer and finally it bursted through you like a wave hitting a cliff. You dug your teeth into the meat of Jongho’s neck and dug your nails into his sides as you came hard.
Jongho was like a puddle below you, completely relaxed and satisfied in finally making you come. "My mate," he pouted.
You plopped down on the side of the lounge that was empty and Jongho laid with his arms wrapped around your waist and his head resting on your chest, the rest of his body in-between your legs. You carded you hands through his hair tenderly and Jongho's voice rumbled into your chest, "You're mine."
Tears came unbidden to your eyes. This was the scene, this was how you knew Jongho was your mate!
“Of course,” You murmured, placing a gentle kiss on the top of his head.
“But I have to share you,” Jongho said in a voice that had a slight whine to it.
“If I’m mate to one, I'm going to be mate to the rest of them, Jongho,” You told him in a calm voice.
“I just wanted something that was solely mine, for once…” Jongho admitted.
“You share with the other’s just fine,” You couldn't help but laugh under your breath.
“Yes, but I thought…” Jongho allowed himself a moment to pout. He was softer with you. You had to assume that saving him had allowed him to open up and be vulnerable with you. “...I thought perhaps you would be just my mate, and only mine. I didn’t think I would have to share.”
You rubbed your cheek into the crown of his hair. “Well, for now at least, it’s just you and me. It will take some convincing for the others.”
"Do you know for sure about the others?" Jongho wondered.
"I'll be honest, only Yeosang. I had a vision with him before I saved you."
Jongho rubbed his face further against your cheek and it brought out a low moan from you. Jongho smiled mischievously. "If I sucked your breasts through this dress would you be mad at me?"
"We need to sleep, greedy guts," You admonished him.
"Can I…can I sleep here? With you?" Jongho asked.
"Do you really want to be caught sneaking out of my rooms at dawn?" You chuckled.
"I want to sleep with my mate," Jongho admitted. 
"Alright, you can sleep here, but you cannot hide behind my skirts if someone catches you."
"Can I sneak under your skirts and show them how to take care of you before they get to have you themselves?"
"Jongho!" 
After the successful mating with Jongho, things seemed to get somewhat easier. With the possibility of you being a mate to the prince, the hushed conversations about you stopped, at least in public. Jongho must have spoken to the others on your behalf because Seonghwa was begrudgingly a little less cold to you. Yeosang began to take walks with you through the training yards to the stables. You thought perhaps he would be the next to succumb to the mating pull but it was someone else you did not expect.
You were frustrated with your abilities. The bad position you were in now with Seonghwa on top of things only pushed you to try the tools of the old oracles.
San accompanied you while you went on an outing to retrieve morning glories, the flower that your elder had said your predecessor had used. San carried the wicker basket as you two meandered the trails. You were pretty sure Jongho strong-armed San, perhaps literally, into joining you. 
"So Jongho sounds like he's hopelessly in love with you," San said in a voice that sounded both mocking and mean.
So you threw the same attitude back at him. "Sounds to me like you're a tad bit jealous."
That stopped San in his tracks and he lagged behind for a bit and then caught up with you. "I'm not jealous. I'm just saying, you've fooled him well," San insisted.
"If you think I've fooled Jongho, then I'm not sure you know your own mate, San," You scoffed.
San was silent for a time, seemingly chewing on your words. You found a group of morning glories and began to cut them from the vines they were growing on. Then he deigned to speak. "I'm only here as a witness, so when you speak of how you didn't get the right flower and that's why you didn't have your vision, I can confirm to the rest of my mates that you are indeed a fake."
You swept up your basket without another word and made the long trek back to the castle. San accompanied you every bit of the way, albeit more silent and focused on your reaction. It wasn't until you arrived back in front of your rooms that he spewed his final toxic words. 
"I hope for Jongho’s sake that your talents are true. Or do you need for me to fuck you too to prove it?" San threw a verbal dagger your way.
So you drew a real one. You let the flat of the blade play along the side of his neck. "You may have found me complacent and quiet when I had no standing in this clan but I am second only to Hongjoong and Seonghwa. You may be their mate but I am the left hand of the prince. You would do well to remember that." You pushed San towards the opposing wall and rushed into your rooms. 
You carefully prepared the embers in the bronze bowl and consumed the morning glories by quickly folding them on top of your tongue. The green bitterness danced across your taste buds so you quickly looked down into the embers.
The body behind you was surely larger than your own. You could feel how both of his hands encompassed your waist. His thrusts inside of you brought a choked cry to your mouth. "Yu--"
One of those hands left your waist and wound itself in your hair. The hand tugged and guided you to arch your back. "Don't say my name, whore." 
"But--" You still cannot manage to get a word out because how wonderful it felt to have a dick continue to hit the end of you.
"FUCK!" He roared and yanked your hair so hard that the back of your head was resting against his shoulder and chest. "Can't you just let me enjoy this? He hissed into your ear.
You attempted to press your lips together but still moans fell from them. You simply could not contain yourself. "Please," You whimpered and then groaned loudly.
"I frankly don't give a damn if you come," he snapped from behind you. "But I cannot be known as the only one who cannot pleasure you."
Long fingers were unceremoniously shoved into your mouth and still your tongue lathed at them. You moaned around them, knowing full well they'd be leaving your mouth soon. His fingers, wet with your saliva, found your clit and began to rub it harshly, well wedded with the snap of his hips against your ass.
You felt your climax build within you, the double sensations driving you mad with desire. "Yunho, Yunho please," You begged for the final time.
Yunho used his other hand and gently squeezed your throat. "Let's see if I can't make you have a vision, hmmm?"
You moved over to the book and stand you were gifted to document your visions. You read over your words and quickly begin to rip out the pages. But what else were you to believe? You could feel the pain and love you had been feeling in that moment. You knew, without a doubt, that Yunho was one of your mates. And that was not good.
San may be distrustful but at least he'd look at you and speak to you. Yunho… you had barely exchanged a word with. Hongjoong had no choice but to take on your council but you had yet to speak to him one on one. But Yunho would not spare you a glance. You thought he was simply ignoring you completely until you came across him and Seonghwa speaking to each other before your morning meeting with the prince the next day.
"They simply adapted," Yunho insisted to Seonghwa. "They've learned better tricks and deceived us like they always have."
"I don't know, Yunho," Seonghwa said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "The air felt like it was full of energy. Even though she didn't have a vision, I had Yeosang take another fly around the area of the settlement and they found hunters. Whatever she's doing… it's saving lives. I don't think she's the sniveling worm you call her to be!"
"I know what she did with Jongho," Yunho said with a disparaging tone, "He was bespelled by her cunt. I doubt it's that good."
"Perhaps we can speak of this in a place that doesn't have ears on the walls?" Seonghwa suggested, tight-lipped and hesitant. 
Yunho nodded curtly and then put his hand against the wall, trapping Seonghwa between his body and the wall. "Don't let the thoughts of what we shared last night drive you too insane during your meeting," Yunho smirked and tilted his head.
Seonghwa smiled back, accepting a chaste kiss against the lips as an apology. "Nor you while doing your patrols."
They parted and you realized you better start moving or Yunho was about to witness you eavesdropping on him and Seonghwa. When Yunho passed you around the corner, his face was a mask of disacknowledgement; you might as well have been a ghost to him. 
"Ah, Oracle, good morning," Seonghwa greeted you, a nervous shake to his eyes apparent.
You walked past him and entered the room in which Hongjoong heard your opinions and news about his kingdom. Seonghwa coughed at the awkwardness of you ignoring his greeting. “I was wondering if you might look over this list of names of hatchlings, perhaps?”
“And why would a sniveling worm do that?” You bite with your words.
Seonghwa’s shoulders fell forward in defeat. “So you did overhear us. You have to excuse Yunho, he’s simply--”
“--an ass,” you finished Seonghwa’s sentence, “He’s being an ass, Seonghwa.”
Seonghwa recovered his haughty expression. “That’s my mate that you’re calling an ass.”
You made eye contact with Seonghwa, who was full of all his dragon pride right now. “Yes, mine too.”
Seonghwa blinked profusely for a moment until your words sunk in. “Did the flowers work? Did you have a vision?”
“Would you even believe me if I said yes?” You couldn't help but let a bitter tone coat your tongue.
“That’s three of us now,” Seonghwa sounded contemplative. “Please, Oracle, look over this list. If you could tell us if we need to help any of these hatchlings before one of them gets sick…”
The hatchlings had done nothing wrong, they were innocent in simply being born of this world. They might grow up to become full adults and dragons, and look down upon you, but for now, they were innocent. You couldn't condemn them for their future, certainly. “I’ll look, Seonghwa. But not because you asked.”
A small smile twitched across Seonghwa’s face but then it was smoothed out and he was all business and pomp. “Here,” He offered the piece of scroll to you.
You took the paper and nothing set you off immediately. Your fingertip followed the line of names, the theme of flora being apparent with this brood. It wasn’t until your finger landed on the final name. Eunjoo. You felt a jolt of electricity run up your arm upon touching her name. 
“Seonghwa,” You called over to him softly.
Seonghwa came to your side, accidentally bumping your hip in the process and pushed you into a full vision. Your eyes went cloudy and then you collapsed against Seonghwa unexpectedly.
Seonghwa’s hand was over your mouth. His eyes were wide with fear of being caught. But that didn’t stop his dick from moving in and out of you. Your leg curled around his waist, urging him forward, meanwhile…“Where did those two go?” Hongjoong cursed out loud in the meeting room.
The two of you were in a random room adjacent from the meeting room, unable to keep your hands off each other now that the bond thrummed between you two. Seonghwa’s hips worked desperately between your legs, the horror of Hongjoong catching you two turning him on. You made worried noises against his palm but he shook his head at you, strands of hair falling into his face.
It was like you two were teenagers, hormone-driven and unable to stop yourselves. Your hands dug into the nape of his neck, needing something to tug as your climax threatened to spill over. 
“I will rake them over hot coals when I find them,” Hongjoong promised and then his heeled boots announced that he was gone.
“Seonghwa!” You whispered in urgency when he removed his hand from your mouth.
Seonghwa began to babble back. “Come, just come, love, please, I don’t think I can hold off any--”
You let out a sweet cry and clenched down on Seonghwa and then he was gone too, coming deep inside of you. The both of you were panting, exchanging air and kissing as you both came down from your highs.
“We can’t do that again,” You said with a sneaky smile.
“We’re definitely doing that again,” Seonghwa confirmed, a conspiratory smirk on his face as well.
Hongjoong was peering down at you when you woke up. Seonghwa had laid you on the floor while you passed out from the vision.
“Does she always faint?” Hongjoong cocked his head at you, a cold curiosity more than anything, like you were a bug he didn’t understand.
“I believe it was because she induced a vision last night. This one came from touching me. Hongjoong,” Seonghwa looked unsure, “I saw her eyes cloud over. It’s just like the scrolls--”
“Get her up,” Hongjoong snapped his fingers, interrupting Seonghwa’s thoughts. “We have work to do.”
Seonghwa knelt beside you but you held up your hands. “Please, one vision of you was enough.”
“I--” He looked pained at not being able to help you up.
You sighed heavily. “You know, don’t you.”
Seonghwa wouldn’t meet your gaze now. “I can…feel the bond…amongst other things…”
You groaned. “Great. Just do me a favor. Don’t tell Hongjoong. I don’t need to give him another reason to be against me.”
The meeting was…interesting. Seonghwa kept sending you sneaky little looks and Hongjoong was picking up that something was going on but he clearly didn’t know what, nor would his pride allow him to ask. 
Your feelings about Eunjoo had been correct. She had been somewhat of a runt of the group, and had hidden in the hatchling room under a mountain of blankets. She had consumed something she should not have and Mingi was beyond worried for the small dragon. You came to visit the little one, curious as to if your ‘feelings’ had been any help.
Mingi cradled the toddler dragon in his arms, feeding her a solution of herbs to aid her in her recovery. Your heart clenched at the paleness of the small child’s face but Mingi beamed up at you when you came to visit. 
“Thank you,” He said softly, “Because you caught onto her malady early, the healers say she will make a full recovery.”
Tears built up at the corner of your eyes. “I’m glad,” You said with a strained tone.
“I will whisper to her of the oracle that helped save her life,” Mingi promised, “She will know who to thank when she’s older.”
Then the tears began to pour. To have a new generation of dragons not look down upon you or your family meant more to you than you than perhaps Mingi understood. Or perhaps he understood perfectly well because his eyes were kind as he said it.
“Mingi…”
“Do you want to hold her? Skin against skin is the best for her right now, so she knows that someone is here supporting her while she is fighting the sickness.” Mingi’s eyes were solidly on yours, hanging off your next decision. 
You nodded wordlessly and Mingi deposited the infant in your arms. You cradled her and she frowned in her sleep. Mingi continued to dip his finger in the solution and let the baby suck it from his finger. The domestic scene was doing something to you, waking up a side of you that you had put to bed a long time ago. You had convinced yourself that you weren’t going to bring another child into this world that had to endure the cruelty of being dirt amongst the clan, but perhaps, if the tide was changing…
“You’re good with her,” Mingi interrupted your thoughts, smiling at you again, his eyes disappearing into crescent moons. “It bodes well for--”
“What are you doing?”
Yunho’s quiet but angry voice cut through the air, making both you and Mingi jump. “Yunho, she saved Eunjoo!” Mingi protested.
“She probably poisoned her in order for it to seem like she saved her,” Yunho accused you.
You wordlessly gave Eunjoo back to Mingi and stood up. “I may be a lot of things, Yunho, but to accuse me of harming the hatchlings is going too far.” Your heart was both hurting and beating erratically. 
Yunho used every inch of his height difference against you. “I am going to expose you for the fraud you truly are,” Yunho vowed, dark eyes looking down his nose at you.
You couldn't help but grin maniacally back up at him. “And when you’re wrong? What will you do then?”
Yunho’s eyes burned with a pure hatred for you. Clearly coming across you with Mingi and the hatchlings had triggered something inside of him. “That day will never come,” Yunho spat.
“Oh, what’s this, are you an oracle too?” You smirked.
Yunho narrowed his eyes, spun on his heel and was out just as quickly as he was in. 
You had been regularly sleeping with Jongho, relieving the tension you both felt through your bond. The two of you were worried about the others. Mingi, Yeosang and Seonghwa were won over but San, Hongjoong and Yunho were still staunch in their separation that they would not be included. From what Jongho told you, it was affecting their bonds with each other as well. So when San showed up at your door, almost a deja vu of when he helped you get flowers, you were both surprised and not. It had Jongho written all over it again.
San was leaning against the door frame when you opened your door, looking up at you, head lowered and an inquiring eyebrow lifted up. "Good morning, Oracle."
"And to what do I owe this favor, oh esteemed mate of my mate?" You said dryly.
"Jongho still doesn't shut up about you saving him in human form. He also said that you only go to the training grounds when the other warriors aren't practicing. He thought that perhaps if you went along with me that the clan might accept you training among them," San said, cheek perched to the side in unsureness. 
Your throat was tight with emotion. Jongho was going above and beyond as a mate, or so you felt, and it was really making your heart burst with love for the dragon. "Jongho is very kind," You opted with.
"Well, I have better things to do, but apparently, if I don't do this, I'm not getting any from him so here we are," San threw his hands up in the air and began to walk down the hall.
The other dragon warriors were wary when you entered the training grounds with San. They eyed him cautiously but spat on the ground as you passed. The muttering and grumbling that trash was now on the grounds were low but still audible. Some warriors put their weapons away and actually left. You tried really hard to not let it hurt your newly healed heart. San, with his ever watchful eye always looking for your reactions, remained silent, as was his way.
It became easier as the days passed. Soon, the other warriors either avoided coming to the grounds when you were there or grew used to your presence. San was the only one who truly became more and more sour as time passed. He attacked with a fervor that most would leave for an actual enemy and you were really starting to think that he might think you are one.
Still, you benefitted from practicing with San. Your father was well into his silver years, so he couldn't practice with you and so you had been limited to the dummies on the grounds. Being able to pit muscle against muscle, technique with experience really stretched your abilities to the max. And even though San's attitude was worse with each day, your spirits rose. Perhaps if San would acknowledge your skills, the other warriors might change their mind, maybe even Yunho--
San interrupted your thoughts by giving you quite a nasty cut on your arm as you were distracted. You saw his mouth move, probably giving some kind of mocking excuse for his bad manners. It was the training grounds, not a battlefield where there was no holding back. Your vision became red. 
With a wild yell, you charged at San with your sword raised. San's eyes widened in surprise but still muscle memory kicked in and he blocked, but his muscles strained a bit to do so. You tried a large undercut sweep but San managed to jump backwards, curving his body to avoid the sword.
"Oracle," San chuckled nervously, "I'd almost swear you--" He yelped as he raised his broader blade to halt another swing of your sword.
When the overhanded strike was stopped with San's high block, sweat started to bead his hairline. You tried for more technique, faking a strike and instead thrusting forward. San had to avoid your blade, barely redirecting your blade with his. "Seriously, you're going to--" He grunted with effort to parry another thrust, the shing of the sword as the tip pinged echoing in both your ears.
That's when you decided you needed to disarm San. You prepared another swing in which both of your blades had to dance in a circle together, and then with a sharp twist of your wrist, San's blade was sliding across the straw-strewn stones.
San held his hands up in defeat. "I almost might be impressed with th--" He made a loud oof as you kicked him square in the chest.
You were on top of San as soon as he hit the ground, your body straddling his body as you brought your personal dagger to his throat. This time you didn't use the flat of the blade but the edge that you always kept razor-sharp. It pricked his skin and a small line of blood trailed down his glowing skin. 
"Do you yield?" You growled.
"Does any dragon ever yield? Yielding is death!" San denied, sounding quite strained.
You brought the tip of the dagger under San's chin. "I've had enough of your shit attitude, San. Either you yield to me or I stop coming to these practices and Jongho starts withholding himself from you again."
San looked bewildered. "You would do that?" he said in a higher pitched voice.
You laughed mirthlessly. "That's the least I would do, warrior."
San hooked both of his legs around yours and threw his weight so that he could flip the situation. Now he was on top of you, your dagger knocked out of your hands. He may have the upper hand in the fight but he had revealed something that he should have kept hidden. 
You smiled slowly in cockiness. "Did you get turned on by my prowess?"
"That's nothing," San denied immediately. You noticed a small pout that had never graced his lips before when he spoke to you. He was all sharp looks and this held such a curve to his mouth it almost looked kissable. "Adrenaline can make a man hard, that's all." 
"Hard for a woman that you hate?" You said lowly, "That must hurt your warrior pride."
"I'm not--" 
You took the moment to flip again, legs clamped on either of San's slim waist. 
With an indignant shout, San flipped you again just as fast. "If you don't stop interrupting me, I am going to wrap my hands around that pretty neck of yours and test your ability to hold your breath."
You cocked your head in question. "No, I don't think that's how that would work."
"Don't think--" San began to get flustered and stumble over his words, "What's that supposed to mean?!"
You pushed San's shoulder gently and he allowed you to lead him to his back. "There's no one here, San, didn’t you notice?"
San didn't look around but instead kept his eyes solidly on you. "I noticed."
"You know, instead of me keeping Jongho away from you, you could have him, but I could have you too."
San scoffed, but his eyes kept leaving and meeting yours. "Ludacris. Why would I do that?"
You sat fully back on San's pelvis, allowing your plush ass to really sit down on San's still rock hard cock. San whimpered, biting down hard on his lip but let the flesh go slowly. When you took a moment to grind, winding your hips. San's hands find your hips, swallowing down his low moans at the stimulation. 
"Perhaps that's why, San," You provoked him.
"Why are you so hot when you're this angry? I know you don't have a dragon form but your rage is red-hot like one," San said in pure confusion.
"I could take you on the training grounds right now and you wouldn't say no, would you?" You hummed, finger following a path along his breastplate.
San's adam's apple was moving up and down as he clearly attempted to find moisture in his mouth. "You…you would do that?"
"Only if…” You considered for a moment, if it was worth having a vision while San, who hated you, was watching over you. It had convinced all the others. And if you were being honest with yourself, it didn’t feel right to sleep with San without confirming first that he was indeed your mate.
“Only if…?” San prompted you for you to continue your sentence. 
“Do you know what happens if I touch you?” You asked softly.
“You fuck me?” San answered, head empty except for thoughts of sex, clearly.
You snorted. “There’s no going back with my visions, San.”
San’s face grew hard and sharp, similar to the San that was desperate for you to be a fake oracle. “I don’t believe in your stupid visions.”
You let out a sigh. “Here goes nothing then.” 
You cupped his face and then your eyes went cloudy and you collapsed against San’s chest.
"Are you sure you really want to be there?" You said in a condescending tone.
San whined between your legs, tongue out flat, and head worrying back and forth in response. 
"You sure, little flame? I'm not feeling the enthusiasm from you." You squeezed his head with your thighs. 
With a growl, San gripped both of your thighs tightly, went on his knees, and drove your back into the headrest of your bed. His arms strained as he held you aloft, tongue deep into your cunt. You could feel your walls parting for his eager tongue.
"Gonna make me come? Gonna show me how a good little flame makes his Mistress come?" You crooned.
San tongue-fucked you to completion, making your toes curl and screamed his name. When he was done, your back scraped against the headboard as he let you go but remained kneeling in front of you. 
"I hate you so much," he cursed, using the back of his hand to wipe your wetness from his face.
You chuckled lowly. "Hate me so much you'd eat me up like I'm your last dinner, huh?"
San's eyes were dark but he rolled his eyes and groaned in frustration. He grabbed your face with both hands and made out with you. "I love you so fucking much, I can hate you a little bit," San whined.
You felt the love through your bond, so you knew San was being playful. "Well then, I hate you so much, I'm going to give you the suck of your life."
San's eyes became hooded. "I hate your mouth on me."
"I hate you too, little flame."
"Oracle?"
When you came to, San's hand was on your head, supporting it against his chest. "Did you…" he almost choked on his words.
"I'm--" You swallowed down a moan, your sex feeling swollen from your vision. "San."
"Fuck me?" San said in a whiney voice.
You lifted your head. "Are you admitting that you believe in my visions?"
San grinned, part bashful, part cocky. "Will that get my cock inside of you?"
You rolled your eyes and sat back up. "I'm gonna fuck the brat out of you."
"I get that a lot."
One night, when you dared to have a secret rendezvous with Seonghwa after a meeting gone late and Hongjoong dismissed you both, you woke up with a feeling of dread in your stomach. You left Seonghwa lying like a starfish on the table and moved to the nearest balcony. You thought perhaps you needed fresh air. Even still, you could not shake the heavy feeling that something was wrong. And then the vision hit you.
“Ah!” A man with red hair who you had never seen before yelled as a whip with a cruel metal cap tore a strip from his back.
“Just give it up already! We know you’re a dragon. Transform!” 
“I don’t…know what…you’re talking about!” Insisted the redhead through clenched teeth.
Another man, one without the whip, slapped the redhead being tortured. “We’ve been watching you for days! Where is your clan?”
The dragon being tortured spat on the floor. “On their way to turn you into bones they’ll have to pick out their teeth.”
The whip hit once, twice, three times and the dragon’s back tightened in pain. “I like it! Hit me more!”
The man with the whip hesitated. “Is he crazy?”
The other man slapped the accused dragon several times more, until blood fell from the dragon’s mouth. “No, he’s just trying to throw us off. Leave him here to mull in his thoughts.”
The two torturer's left the basement and you saw a sign that said “the red belly of the beast”. 
You came back too, hanging a little too precariously from the balcony. Lucky for you, because you threw up any food you had in your stomach. Fighting you could endure, but that level of torture was inhumane! It had to be hunters again but you didn’t recognize the dragon who was being tortured. Then why would you be shown this image? Unless…
“Father, this is Wooyoung.” You tugged forward Wooyoung to finally meet your father. He was actually the first dragon you were introducing to your family. You were growing to love and adore Jongho and Yeosang and Seonghwa, but Wooyoung was different. He didn’t have any relation to the clan so you knew it would be less scarring to introduce him to your father first.
“Wooyoung, huh?” Your father peered up at Wooyoung, rocking in his chair by the fire.
Wooyoung looked a bit embarrassed but smiled nonetheless. “Your daughter, she saved me.”
Your father grinned fiercely, pride clearly written across his face. “I taught her all I knew. She fights for her mother’s honor.”
“Father, I fight for our family,” You insisted, feeling emotional.
“You fight for your life,” Your father said gruffly, breaking eye contact with you and bringing a finger to his eyes to wipe away the happy tears.
Wooyoung, in his typical fashion, began to animatedly retell the story of when you saved him. Your father hung on every word, laughing and gasping in all the right places. And when Wooyoung finished his story, your father grabbed Wooyoung’s hand and then yours and brought them together.
“Your mother… she would have loved him like a son, Spitfire.”
You began to cry and hug your father while Wooyoung started to joke about the nickname Spitfire, doing his best to make you feel better. Wooyoung was your comfort when you needed it the most. He loved you unconditionally and he was yours, solely. 
“Oh my god,” You attempted to collect yourself. You didn’t have time to cry or worry. Wooyoung was your mate and you needed to go save him.
You ran to your rooms for Rosa’s Bane, then to the stables, whispered an apology to the sleepy horses and you were racing out of the compound. When you had saved Jongho, you had only gotten there in the nick of time. You weren’t sure how much time you had with Wooyoung but you had a bad feeling that it was too late to stop those scars on his back. 
The moon was high and left your path clear. You had no idea where this tavern was but you had spent enough time with your mates to know how to follow your bond. You and Yeosang often played a game together, where you took turns fleeing and hiding and finding each other through the bond--involved some quiet masturbation and passionate sex upon finding each other--however, it had taught you how to find your mates no matter what.
It was difficult on the back of a horse, however, and more so with someone you had not truly bonded with. It was becoming hard to separate your pull from Jongho, Yeosang, Seonghwa and San from Wooyoung. You doubled back several times and grew frustrated at your progress. The only thing that drove you was that the longer you took to find Wooyoung, the more scars he would have on his back.
Just when you thought that perhaps this was impossible and maybe you should have grabbed one of your dragon mates, your bond pulled hard and it made you gasp with how much fear and pain was coursing through you. You knew without a doubt where Wooyoung was so you raced in the direction that was filled with hopelessness.
The swing of the sign of the tavern almost mocked you as you approached it. The noises spilling from the door were merry and bright and it only made your rage burn brighter that these hunters were taking delight in their evening when your mate was suffering below in the basement.
You carefully pulled back the cellar door and crept down the stairs, silent but angry. Upon a quick glance, they had left Wooyoung to further stew in his wounds. A fire cast light on Wooyoung’s back and it took all of your self control not to gasp in pure horror. His back was practically shredded. His head was cast downwards and when you tipped his head back to look Wooyoung in the eyes, his face was beaten to almost beyond recognition.
"Wha did you com'er fur?" Wooyoung slurred his words because of his fat lip and more than likely the blood lose, "Come t'see how ter properly beat a dragon?" And through all his pain, Wooyoung smiled with such fierceness that you knew without a doubt: his body may be broken but his spirit was not.
"I've come to save you, brave boy," You cooed.
Wooyoung perked up immediately upon hearing your words. "Save me?"
The dumb hunters, comfortable in their surroundings, left the keys to Wooyoung’s manacles on a table where their torture tools were. You resisted the urge to destroy those tools; your sole mission was to save Wooyoung. Wooyoung collapsed upon you when you released him, and even then, each step for him was beyond painful.
And still Wooyoung asked, "What's a beautiful girl doing in a dump like this?"
You laughed in pain, out of breath to even get him to the stairs. "I see the future. You're my mate. I came to save you."
"That sounds pretty plausible. I knew my face was too pretty to be wasted on death." Wooyoung groaned when he lifted his foot for the first stair.
"Save your breath and help me get your pretty face up the damn stairs," You grunted. 
The cuts on his back made it near impossible for him to walk. It took everything in you to get up those stairs with Wooyoung. And still the hunters continued to make merry in the tavern. You swore on your sword that you would come back with Jongho and he would burn the place to the ground with his dragonflame. 
Wooyoung was in no state to go back to the clan with you. You pushed him up on your horse, his belly along the back of the gelding and you walked away from that tavern, putting one step in front of the other. 
With all the time you spent with Seonghwa and Hongjoong in the meeting room, you had learned quite a few clan secret locations that any dragon could retreat to if the situation arose. There was a cottage built in a mountain. The legends told of how the mountain used to be filled with moving rock, hotter than even dragonflame. The mountain had long lain dormant and the cottage was a refuge for any dragons who required it.
The only healing you knew of was the bare minimum a warrior learns to stay alive until a healer can be summoned. Lucky for you, Wooyoung was a bit of a healer himself. So under his instructions, you fashion a poultice to sit on his wounds. Wooyoung faded in and out of consciousness and you could not afford to abandon him. 
Luckily, you didn't have to leave, your clan found you.
A broad shouldered dragon entered the cottage where you had been humming to Wooyoung, who was in a blessed healing sleep. "San!" You shouted in elation and threw yourself at him.
You started to cry, pulling him as close to you as you could. "Please help me. I can't bring Wooyoung back myself, he'll tear open his wounds. Please help him!"
San pulled back, looking beyond confused. "Who is he?"
During the few painful hours when Wooyoung was conscious, in order for him to focus away from the pain, he told you who he was. Wooyoung, a clanless dragon, brought up amongst witches. It was how he had his knowledge of healing but also of who he was. Wooyoung may be clanless but he was not lesser. 
"You saved someone you didn't even know?" San looked stunned, "You saved another dragon?"
That stunned look never left San's face. He transformed and transported Wooyoung back to the clan. You followed below on the trusty gelding and before you knew it, you were back home with your new mate. But there was much more to answer for.
"Where did you find her?" Hongjoong demanded soullessly. His cheek was smooshed against his palm as if he had better things to do than to listen to why you left.
"No doubt tricking another poor dragon into giving up his cock to her," Yunho said with all offense, lips pursed and refusing to look at you.
"Yunho!" Yeosang scolded his mate.
"Well?" Hongjoong demanded a second time, this time unfolding his legs and stamping his foot impatiently.
"She saved a clanless dragon," San declared. His chin was raised, almost challenging anyone to argue his facts. His fists were clenched at his side.
Jongho came up beside you and his palm slid against yours to hold your hand. "Don't you ever do that again."
"I'm sorry, Jongho," You said, looking at his side profile.
"I think you owe an apology to more than just Jongho," Hongjoong interrupted.
You cleared your throat. "I'm sorry, Your High--"
Hongjoong cut you off. "Not to me, you witless fool, to your other mates!"
Yeosang had his arms crossed over his chest, clearly fighting with trying to not look upset or worried. You met eyes with Seonghwa, who let you see exactly how betrayed he felt. San still stood to your other side, arms quivering with how hard he was shaking. 
"I am sorry for leaving without telling anyone. All I could think about was saving Wooyoung. I won't ever do it again," You said with a rough voice laced with emotion.
"That's right, you won't ever do it again," Hongjoong declared, "Because you will spend every night with one of us, at least."
Mingi's mouth dropped. "But, we don't know--"
"What?" Yunho's quiet rage cut through everything. "Don't tell me you're starting to believe her lies?"
Hongjoong's eyes narrowed down at Yunho. "Do you not believe she is mated with Jongho? I witnessed him barely restrained by Mingi and Yeosang when you stated that she fled because she couldn't keep up with the lies anymore. He would have punched you for such an insult, Yunho. I myself held Seonghwa as he wept, worried that perhaps his inability to tell me of her was what finally drove her from our clan. San abandoned his duty to find her. We are all mates, Yunho. Do not tell me you didn't feel what I felt through their bonds."
Yunho's lips tightened further in anger. "I will not be a part of this."
Hongjoong laughed, a dangerous noise that made everyone in the throne room shudder. "No?"
"Yunho," Yeosang went to the only naysayer in the room. "Stop."
"When you say at least," You said nervously. 
Hongjoong's dark eyes swung back to you. "Why, you have to take care of Wooyoung, do you not? He is your mate after all, didn't you say?"
The next few weeks were a bit of an adjustment. You had spent most of your life living amongst your hatchling sisters, never having a moment to yourself, but they were your family. You had grown spoiled to your singular rooms, your sanctuary away from anyone. Now, not a moment where you were left alone. It wasn't necessarily that you weren't trusted, but to make sure that if you did have another premonition and you did have to rush into action, there would always be a dragon mate with you.
The only one truly upset with this situation was Yunho. 
The first night he found himself in your rooms, he dragged a chair into your room, put the back against the door, and stayed there the entire night. The second instance he watched with emotionless eyes as you tended to Wooyoung, who was healing progressively well.
"Some day I'm getting off my stomach and getting you on your back," Wooyoung said as you straddled his butt and applied more poultice to his back.
"Wooyoung," You scolded him, laughing at both his audacity and the nervousness of setting off Yunho. 
"You've mated with everyone else you've had a premonition with, it's not fair," Wooyoung groaned.
You cleared your throat, well aware that was entirely untrue. 
"No, she hasn't," Yunho's voice rumbled from his spot near the fire.
"I'll excuse your ignorance but she hasn't had a premonition with Mingi, even though it's clear he adores her regardless," Wooyoung replied flatly.
"I'm not talking about Mingi," Yunho corrected the clanless dragon.
Wooyoung turned his head to the side, the back of his hand lying against his cheek. "Sweetheart?"
"How do you know?" You demanded towards Yunho in a gruff voice.
Yunho laughed mirthlessly, tossing his head back like you had just told the funniest joke he had ever heard. "You don't think I feel the bond? Or is it you that cannot feel it because you aren't even a dragon?"
Wooyoung growled underneath you and you caressed the small of his back to calm him. "Wooyoung, don't."
"Even if you can't transform, that doesn't make you less of a dragon than him!" Wooyoung protested.
"I know, my brave boy, but it's not worth fighting Yunho on it. He can't be swayed."
"Maybe it is."
"Wooyoung, what are you saying?" You moved to get off your mate and off the bed.
"Hey Grumpy Scales, you ever think of fucking your anger out on the Oracle?" Wooyoung posed the question like he was asking Yunho if he ever considered eating blueberries for breakfast.
"I wouldn't touch her even if Seonghwa refused me his body. I am not San."
"No, you're certainly not. San has better shoulders and he isn't an idiot. Even he was convinced that being my sweetheart's mate isn't the worst fate. In fact, he's quite enjoying his nights now."
"Wooyoung," You attempted to hush your mate for a second time. 
Yunho stood up, the fire giving him a red aura that was actually less intimidating than the actual face Yunho bore. "San is caught up in the trap. You all are."
" ‘Cept me, or weren't you listening? I believe in her and her powers. I love her. I haven't slipped my cock into her tight, wet heat yet, however. Nor has Mingi. So how do you continue to feed yourself on a lie that's unfounded, Grumpy Scales?"
"Tricked," Yunho shook his head but his face was already less tight than it was before Wooyoung spoke. 
"Mmm, I do love a good trick," Wooyoung chuckled, "You know, if you sat on my hand in the right way, I might be able to--"
"You will not be doing anything in front of me," Yunho snarled. 
"Wooyoung, I would like to not die tonight," You said in a hushed tone.
"Oh, but if you slept with the oracle, wouldn't you be showing everyone that you can fuck her without getting caught in her web? Won't that be interesting to find out that you're the strongest of them all, hmmm?" Wooyoung hummed. "All that wonderful wet pussy just for you, right Grumpy Scales? I bet she quivers for you."
"If you weren't injured, I'd be slapping you right now, Wooyoung, I beg of you, stop!"
"You will not be trapping me," Yunho announced. He was… suddenly very close to the bed.
You carefully turned around. You could not give Yunho your back. It went against your instincts. "Yunho, I trap no one."
"You've trapped Seonghwa," Yunho stared right into your soul with his dark eyes, "You don't think I've felt what Yeosang's felt when he's sliding his cock down your throat? You don't think Seonghwa's told me of being between your thighs, and sighing like he's talking about slipping into Mingi or being fucked by Hongjoong? You don't think I've heard you with Jongho, calling him your pet? How dare you lord over a dragon as if you were more than what you truly are? How dare San submit to you when he knew of your tricks."
Yunho was so close to you that you could feel the puffs of his breath hit the top of your head. "Is he right?"
"Wooyoung is wrong," You stated immediately.
"You're quivering for me right now." Yunho looked down his nose at you, his eyes hooded.
Your entire body was covered in goosebumps. You felt the pull in your bond, the lust spreading through your nerves. Your mate was calling for you to mate with him. Whether it was subconscious or not, Yunho now wanted to fuck you. Or was it Wooyoung? A quick glance showed that Wooyoung had fallen asleep with a smile on his lips.
"I do not want to mate with a dragon who thinks I am worthless," You hissed, holding back your need for Yunho by only a spider thread.
"Perhaps," Yunho licked his lips in what you could only describe as a predatory way, "There's something of you that isn't worthless."
The shame and lust that filled your veins was undeniable. You could slowly feel your resolve crumble beneath Yunho's stare. "That will bond us, Yunho. I know you don't want that."
Yunho chucked his fingers under your chin and you swallowed in response. "I am already bound to you through my mates. I cannot get rid of you, you've proven that with your little fleeing scene. So you will submit to me because you want it and it's the only thing I'll allow between us."
"Yu--" 
Your words were cut off as Yunho moved his fingers to wrap around your throat. "I don't want to hear my name from your mouth one more time. You simply need to nod or shake your head. You are simply a hole for me, oracle."
This was it. This was your chance to decline, to scoff at him and tell him your worth, just like you had done with every single other dragon since you became oracle. The only one you should submit to was Hongjoong. But there was a look in Yunho's eyes that spoke of how much he wanted this. Wooyoung had been right. Yunho wanted to take his frustration out on you and he wanted to benefit from it. He wanted the high ground over you and you were about to concede to him. 
You nodded and Yunho slowly smirked. "That's what I thought."
Yunho stripped you of your clothing until you were stark naked. His clothing remained on. He guided you to your lounge and made you go on your hands and knees there. His nimble fingers found your folds and he chuckled darkly at the discovery that you were drenched. "Surely that's not for me, whore?"
You pressed your lips together, trying to keep within the rules that Yunho laid out. You were certain that if you broke them, he would stop, or worse, leave. You urged your ass back onto Yunho's fingers as your only response. 
"Ridiculous," his disbelief came as a rumble from behind you, "Wet for what? Because I put you in your place? Because you get a new cock inside of you? Or are you just an eager whore all the time?" You whined as his fingers brushed your clit. "Listen to the noises you make, you are an eager whore. I could have you coming over my fingers embarrassingly quickly, I imagine. How anyone else finds you alluring enough to fuck you will be beyond me. Are you wet enough to take me?"
You nodded and Yunho was busy undoing his pants. He rubbed his cockhead against your folds. You hissed as he sank into you. It was a stretch for you, you had to admit, but it was a damn good stretch. Yunho's fingers sank into the flesh of your ass until he bottomed out. 
"Just a fucking hole," He growled and then started to nudge himself inside of you.
The loudest moan imaginable escaped your lips as he moved inside of you. The feeling of being stuffed, the feeling of that large cock moving against your walls, was truly like nothing you had felt. You weren't sure if you should be worried on how clouded your mind was, narrowed down to simply getting fucked by the man that utterly hated you.
Yunho's large body practically loomed behind you. You could feel how both of his hands encompassed your waist. His thrusts inside of you brought a choked cry to your mouth. "Yu--"
One of those hands left your waist and wound itself in your hair. The hand tugged and guided you to arch your back. "Don't say my name, whore." 
"But--" You still cannot manage to get a word out because how wonderful it felt to have a dick continue to hit the end of you.
"FUCK!" He roared and yanked your hair so hard that the back of your head was resting against his shoulder and chest. "Can't you just let me enjoy this?" He hissed into your ear.
You attempted to press your lips together but still moans fell from them. You simply could not contain yourself. "Please," You whimpered and then groaned loudly.
"I frankly don't give a damn if you come," he snapped from behind you. "But I cannot be known as the only one who cannot pleasure you."
Long fingers were unceremoniously shoved into your mouth and still your tongue lathed at them. You moaned around them, knowing full well they'd be leaving your mouth soon. His fingers, wet with your saliva, found your clit and began to rub it harshly, well wedded with the snap of his hips against your ass.
You felt your climax build within you, the double sensations driving you mad with desire. "Yunho, Yunho please," You begged for the final time.
Yunho used his other hand and gently squeezed your throat. "Let's see if I can't make you have a vision, hmmm?"
Your vision dimmed, fuzzy black waves clinging to the edges as Yunho denied you any air. You could feel your climax building and you knew you were about to come undone for Yunho and he had not even shown any signs of being ready to come. Was he going to use you more than once, was he--
"Yunho, I've brought you some food--"
Mingi's eyes grew wide and dropped the tray he had brought. The hatchling caretaker ran into the room and pulled Yunho back, before either of you could finish. Your air came rushing back and you gasped it in.
"What do you think you're doing?" Mingi accused Yunho. Mingi’s large hand came to your back to rub you through your shaking breaths. 
A true vision overtook you, eyes growing cloudy and you slumped forward on the lounge.
Mingi's hands rubbed your overextended stomach. A smile of pure happiness was there before he bent over to kiss your stomach. "It's a male. I just know it."
You laughed quietly. "Mingi, even I don't know if it's a male or female, and I'm the oracle."
"The elders say when a female is craving spicy foods that it is a male," Mingi insisted sincerely.
"Well, they also say when you crave sweets, it's a girl and I…what exactly do you think you're doing?" You demanded.
Mingi had begun to kiss down your belly, moving beyond your line of sight. "Are other parts of you swollen?" His deep low voice rumbled through your skin.
"Ming-mingi!" You stuttered, "I'm--"
"You're big with the hatchling. You can barely get off this bed without help. I can simply take advantage of that, can't I?" Mingi had arrived at his destination, tongue swirling along his lips before he kissed your lower lips.
"Oh fuck, Mingi, that's---hnnnn, that's lovely," You couldn't help but moan.
"You deserve to be rewarded for carrying our hatchling so well, don't you think?"
Your back arched as Mingi's lips sucked down on your clit. "Want--want you Mingi," You admitted softly.
Mingi's head popped back up above your head, a satisfied smile tugging his lips. "The elders say fucking a pregnant female helps with the hatchling arriving later."
You groaned and laughed at the same time. "Was that your intention with your visit today?"
"My intention was to ensure that you are well," Mingi replied, suddenly more solemn. "I want what's best for the mother of our children."
"Oracle?" Mingi sucked in his bottom lip in worry, cradling you in his arms as you presumably collapsed on your lounge.
"I'm here, Mingi," You assured him.
Your eyes sought Yunho's immediately but his back was to you two, near the door. "You take over, Mingi, I'm leaving."
Mingi's serious eyes followed Yunho until he left without a word. Then Mingi's disposition changed. "Did you have a vision of us? I am your mate? What did you see? Is that rude to ask? Should I not know my own fate?"
Your heart clenched with each step that Yunho took away from your rooms but you couldn't help but laugh at Mingi's questions. "A hatchling, Mingi. You kept saying that I was the mother of 'our' children."
Mingi's mouth dropped. "A hatchling? But you cannot carry the eggs, you cannot become a dragon, how--?" Mingi wiped a hand over his face in disbelief, "Truly? A hatchling?"
"I don't know when that occurred, Mingi, that could be years from now--MINGI!"
Mingi lifted you high above him in celebration. You should have realized that the dragon that took care of the hatchlings would be beyond excited to hear that you would be the mother of his children--your mates children? Who…?
"First thing in the morning, I will demand an audience with the elders. They've been bugging Hongjoong about an heir for years, they'll be happy to hear that you will carry our children!"
Mingi put you on your feet but your head was still in the clouds. Hongjoong mating with you? How could you manage such a thing? "Mingi, wait!"
Mingi's large hands encompassed your head in a gentle squeeze. "I will help you. With your vision and my magic tongue, we'll make it happen."
You frowned, not understanding. "Your tongue?" Then it hit you. He wasn't talking about convincing the elders, he was talking about-- "Mingi!"
Mingi's tongue caught between his teeth, looking quite pleased with himself. "Do you doubt me?"
You thought back to your vision and found that you couldn't disagree.
Whether it was your vision, or Mingi's magic tongue, it was declared that a formal event would be held before the court. Hongjoong was going to acknowledge that you were his mate, and mated with the others, before the entire clan. The preparations were made and it was decided that you would perform a Seeing with all that was present. There was no doubt in your mind that Hongjoong was your final mate, so it wasn't the ceremony you were worried about…
"Hey," Jongho met your eyes as you stood across from him before the large doors that would open soon and what seemed like the third beginning of your life was about to start. "I love you," he told you.
You leaned upwards to peck at his pink lips. "I wouldn't have any of this without you, you know that, right?"
Jongho's gummy smile, one of your favorite things about him, stretched across his face. "I can't take credit for your visions. I like how that sounds, though."
"Jongho, please," You whined.
Jongho wrapped his arms around you and squeezed until you squealed. He then peppered your face with kisses, scolding you between breaths. "You didn't say you loved me back!"
"I love you, Jongho," You said quietly.
A horn was sounded and that signified the commencement of the event. 
Jongho escorted you down the hard stone floor and helped you up the stairs but left you to join the rest of your mates. Hongjoong stood from his throne, beautiful and glorious in his power. He threw his arms open wide and began his speech.
"Today we celebrate our beloved oracle. Our clan has been gifted with one who can soar the skies of the future, having given up her second form in order to keep our clan safe. She has proven her abilities beyond reproach; she has saved my mates and her own from death. She has saved outlying clans, hatchlings, and she has even kept my body from danger. She has seen visions of each of her mates and our bonds have only grown stronger with her connection to us."
Hongjoong turned towards you and you locked eyes with him. "Today, we give the final proof for all to acknowledge. Today, our oracle will have a vision of my future, of my heir."
"Hongjoong," You whispered his name, finding your mouth void of any moisture.
A rare, special, and most importantly, genuine smile pulled at the corners of Hongjoong's mouth. "We've a bet, between us, Oracle. I hope you have a gentle vision of me because I wasn't planning on making the heir on this eve."
Were your mates betting on whether you had a vision full of sex with Hongjoong? It took everything in you to not send a glare over your shoulder. Men!
Hongjoong gentle grasped your hand and flipped it over to impart a kiss to your palm. Your eyes went cloudy and you fell into a vision. Hongjoong captured you in his arms, eyes on your face for when you woke up. 
"Youngho, you are a prince, not a demon!" You shouted at the small boy who was cackling ahead of you.
"Come catch me, Mama!" 
Your breath caught in your throat for the love of your son. His blue hair declared him his father's son, if his sassiness didn't prove it to you every day. You tried to love Youngho as fiercely and as strongly as your father had once gifted you with. You were certain that Youngho would not grow up to be the heart-scarred man that Hongjoong was. Your son would be happy upon his throne with his mates, you were determined to ensure he did not have a fate such as yours. 
"Let him be devious," Hongjoong declared beside you, "He has a mind for being tricky and he loves scaring you."
You pursed your lips together. "I carried him for nine months within me, Hongjoong. I will decide on whether he is allowed to get away with everything or not."
Hongjoong smiled, the same one your son sent you after he had burst from a bush and scared your wits from you. "Well, I put him in you. Isn't that enough reason to have a say on his upbringing?" You scoffed and Hongjoong's smile only grew bigger. A low chuckle came deep from his throat. "Perhaps you need a second hatchling to prove to you that it was me?"
"Prince Youngho, if you don't get off that balcony right now, I will tell Dadda that you are not allowed to visit the hatchlings for a week!" You said in a firm voice, still looking towards Hongjoong. "You have your heir, Your Majesty. Besides, didn't we agree that it was Seonghwa's turn to father a child?"
Hongjoong's grin was at full brightness, mischievousness achieved. And then his face blanked to the cold, haughty leader face you had once only known from him. "We'll have nine months before they know it."
This time you laughed, something that lured Youngho back to your side. "Mama, what are you laughing at?"
"Youngho, did you know," You told him, pushing your hands through his hair lovingly, "Your father tells the funniest jokes? He thinks he can hide things from your other fathers."
Youngho frowned heavily, peering up at his father. "Father, Papa says he can smell when you lie. Don't be silly."
Hongjoong threw his head back and laughed, a belly laugh that seemed to be reserved for only his son. "Seonghwa does say that, doesn't he? I'm sorry for being silly, Spitfire."
Your emotions caught in your throat and you excused yourself, allowing Hongjoong a moment with his son.
"Oracle." Yunho approached you as you moved back to your rooms.
"Prince," You nodded curtly, your heart aching to reach out and touch your mate.
"It is my night with you," Yunho said primly.
"It is," You confirmed.
Yunho stepped closer to you, leaning in to speak to your ears only. "Don't get too wet for me, whore."
Your body was covered in goosebumps of shame and lust. Only one thing had changed in the years in which it took to conceive of Youngho, to nurture the young dragon to be capable of a loving prince, and that was that you had loved Yunho. But he still kept you at a heart's distance.
"Welcome back," Hongjoong greeted you as you rose from your vision.
You felt wetness on your cheeks and realized you had been crying. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I need a moment to collect myself."
Hongjoong's eyes traveled over every plane of your face. "What did you see?"
"A son," You choked out, "Youngho. He had your hair."
"A son," Hongjoong echoed back, looking both fierce and soft at the same time, somehow. His head snapped to your mates. "She says we will have a son!"
The crowd erupted into cheers. Hongjoong helped you up and raised your joined hands. "The oracle has declared there will be an heir and she will carry him!"
San and Wooyoung hugged in celebration. Yeosang slung an arm around Jongho's waist, both quiet in their happiness. Seonghwa and Mingi pressed their foreheads together, clearly excited for a hatchling. Yunho was not celebrating, however. His eyes were on yours, with a rage that only made lust curl within your stomach. You found that you could not meet his eyes any longer and broke contact. 
"So," Hongjoong said under his breath, "Was it gentle like Yeosang's or rough like Seonghwa's?" He began to lead you back through the hall. It had been agreed on that the nine of you would celebrate privately after the event.
"Gentle, Your Majesty," You admitted. 
Hongjoong smiled in triumph and it almost echoed the smile he had carried from your visions. "I knew it."
"And are you sharing your winnings with me, Your Majesty?" You said mirthlessly.
"Of course," Hongjoong bent his neck, acknowledging certain key members of the clan graciously.
"Of course?" You questioned his easy answer.
"My winnings is time with you and another of my choosing," Hongjoong revealed.
"You betted a damn--" The word threesome, it seemed, couldn't be spit out, "--the first time with me and another?"
"Seemed appropriate, at the time," Hongjoong shrugged.
"Who…" You cleared your throat, "Who did you pick?"
The large doors closed behind you and Hongjoong, a formality more than anything. The others would leave from the door behind the throne and join you in a room prepared for you all. 
Hongjoong let go of your hand and walked with both of his hands held  behind his back as he answered you. "Why, you are mine now, Oracle. And what's yours is mine as well now, it seems."
You made a noise of surprise. "You want Wooyoung? Why?"
"I want to be there, I want to be there to witness your first time with him. I want to be his first as well. I'm a greedy lover, you'll learn soon enough."
You felt like you had just been hit by a book. "Your--"
"--Hongjoong," The leader of your clan corrected you.
"Hongjoong!"
"There, much better." Hongjoong turned suddenly. "It's not going to be very fun if you continue to call me Your Majesty when I'll soon be filling you with my seed."
"Sweetheart!" Wooyoung screeched from the door where everyone was waiting. HIs grin said it all. "Hurry up! We have a bet to settle."
You swore you were going to pull every one of your mates ears in anger at having a damn bet about what kind of vision you were going to have with Hongjoong but the anger melted the minute you entered the room. You felt the overwhelming love and adoration through all your bonds and realized in this moment, you were the most loved you had ever been in your entire life. Perhaps it was worth a little silly moment of frustration.
Still, you couldn't help but scold them a bit. "If I see anyone betting about my visions in the future, I swear I'll make you all rue the day I became your mate!"
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corazondebeskar-reads · 6 months
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well it's love, make it hurt - chapter ten
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well it's love, make it hurt series
ten: I'd be a fool to have asked for more
series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter
dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader
for Kinktober 2023 - Day 29: Genital Pumping
This is part of a series of snapshots following dom!Din Djarin and sub!f!reader as they navigate working together as bounty hunters and exploring a d/s relationship.
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: You and Mando pursue your big-ticket bounty, but it turns out to be much more dangerous than you expected.
Warnings: bdsm, established relationship, dom!din and sub!reader, soft dom din djarin, bounty hunting, canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, graphic injuries, genital pumping, pussy pump, dacryphilia, aftercare, subspace, more plot than usual.
Prompts from this list by @absurdthirst.
also on ao3
3 ABY - Winter
You put a moratorium on sex. Not because you don’t want Mando, but because you’re becoming a little rabid about the hunt.
Vanda had hopped planets again, just a few steps ahead of you. What’s worse is that you don’t even know if he knows he’s being followed or if you're just failing to catch up.
Mando sulks, just a little. He doesn’t protest, but when you’re settled down for bed, he brushes a knuckle over your breast, teasing around the nipple. “Eighteen more hours until we arrive,” he says with a sigh. His finger trails delicately, dancing along your ribs and back up.
“Yep,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Plenty of time to rest and prepare.”
“Plenty,” he agrees, his hand ghosting up the line of your neck in a poor imitation of what he’d like to do with his lips. He ignores the twang of guilt when he considers that he’d probably have what he wants by now if he could use them. Thinking about it makes him ache harder, twitching where he’s pressed against your lower back.
“Stop it,” you go to scoot away, but he catches your hip with his wandering hand. You can’t help it; you moan and meet him halfway. “We are grown adults. We can go a few days.”
“The time will pass no matter how we fill it,” he says, but he pulls back a little, letting the space between you cushion his desires.
You twist your head to press a soft kiss to his helmet. “I’m s—”
“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t ever apologize for saying no.”
You close your eyes for a moment. Sometimes, he says things that shouldn’t be so baffling, and yet, you’re thrown off step. “Thank you,” you say instead. You nestle back down into his arm and try to chase a pleasant dream.
It doesn’t come.
There’s a reason why the guild encourages hunters not to ask too many questions about their bounties. You haven't thought of much other than catching Vanda, haven't been sleeping well. Not since Mando recounted his conversation with Madame Anissa.
“Olin Vanda?” Anissa looked at him with wide eyes. “Dead or alive?”
“I shouldn’t discuss—”
“Dead. or. Alive?”
“Either.”
She put a hand over her chest, took a deep breath, and fixed such an intense stare on his visor that his pulse quickened. “I remember him. I can do you one better than his habits and connections. I can get you a more recent location. But you have to promise me something.”
Mando was no stranger to striking deals for information. “What do you want?”
“Promise you’ll kill him.”
It set all his nerves on end. “Tell me what you know,” he said softly, leaning forward.
“He trafficks. Young girls, orphans, whoever. He was bringing girls through here to sell.” She closed her eyes for a moment, hurt erupting across her gentle face. “Right under my nose.”
“You couldn’t have known,” he said. But neither of them believed it.
“That’s why we separated you. We do it to everyone now,” she said. Her voice was thick with resentment. “I should have noticed sooner.”
“But you did notice?”
“Yes. It’s why he was relocated from Morlana One. I reported him, and that was the ISB’s solution — cover it up. They never looked for those girls, never issued any other consequences.”
“Dank farrik,” Mando mutters.
“I’ll reach out to my network and see if anyone has had a sighting recently. He pops up at other clubs from time to time, but I flagged his face in our system, so he gets kicked out pretty quickly.”
The coordinates she gave when you left Axis were from another Madame who had seen him just two days prior. The timing couldn’t have been better, which is why you were so frustrated when he kept vanishing.
You don’t often kill bounties who can be captured. Not only because they’re usually worth more alive but because it keeps you cleaner. Lighter. Fewer souls to drag around after you drop the bodies off. But when Mando tells you of his promise to Anissa, you find yourself hoping to be the one to do it.
It could have been you. Damn near almost was. Cantonica wasn’t kind to children, particularly those with no family to protect them and no debt to work off. You were ten when the hunters came to collect your parents’ debts and took pity on you. They were partners, and while they weren’t the kind of people to go around adopting stray kids, they also weren’t the kind of people to leave one to die.
Instead, they gave you a few credits, a blaster, and the location of an abandoned scrapyard. Not that you’d told Mando any of this, but he didn’t need an explanation for why you might be bloodthirsty over this particular bounty.
Once you land, it doesn’t take long to find them. Vanda and his little band of loyalists are at a pub, cheating their way through the locals in a Sabacc tournament. There are too many potential casualties, so you track down their ships and stake out.
It’s well past dark when they arrive. The two of you are shadows, the push and pull of your motions in tandem as you take out some of the extras. No one will shed a tear over fewer Imps. They don’t even know what’s happened until half of them are bleeding out in the docking bay.
That’s when it all goes to shit. Your vibroblade is at the throat of a burly man when another comes up behind you and grabs you. His momentum lets you still manage to split the delicate tendons of his compatriot, but he has you in a chokehold, and though he screams in rage when your teeth sink into his arm, he does not drop you.
The noise splinters the silence. Everyone is abruptly aware of the fight. It would have been fine, should have been fine, until another one of Vanda’s lackeys raises a blaster at you, and something happens that you thought was impossible.
Mando stops.
He freezes and redirects his attention, shooting and killing both men you were fighting. But in that one, tiny moment of distraction, Vanda buries a large, jagged vibroblade in Mando’s exposed side.
Neither of you realizes it right away. He’s busy killing the men who were trying to hurt you, and you’re busy pursuing Vanda, who has fled toward a ship. But you don’t make it to the ramp on time, because you look over to see Mando pull the blade from his body.
He’s on his knees, trying to put pressure on the wound but investigating it at the same time. He doesn’t see Vanda aim a blaster at you, but you’re already on the move toward him, so luckily, the bolt only catches you in the shoulder.
You don’t feel it. You’re already into your pack, pulling out the small medkit you carry for field emergencies.
Mando looks up when your knees hit the ground next to him. You’re pulling his flightsuit away from the wound, but he catches your hand.
“Fuck, cyare, your shoulder, let me—”
“Are you kriffing kidding me? You’re bleeding out, let go.”
“You’ve been shot, when did you get shot?”
“Which one of us is bleeding out right now?” you yell, yanking your wrist from his grasp and plunging the needle into his side without warning. He’s shaking, the wound is gushing, and it’s too slippery to hold on to the syringe. You have to try again, but a good third of the bacta is wasted.
When you manage to get the medicine in him, you sit back, the shot abandoned at your side. “It’s not enough,” you say through deep gasps for air.
“It’s going to be okay,” he says, eerily calm.
“Which one of us is bleeding out right now?” you repeat, less fury and more frenzy. Your hands are covered in his blood, slick and sticky, and it’s still oozing from his side. You try to wipe your hands on your pants so you can dig out the needle and thread, but they’re wet with it, too.
He hands you the cauterizer. He’d do it himself, but he’s feeling faint enough to know he might black out from the pain.
“You can do it,” he says.
You’ve never used one before. Never had a wound grievous enough to require it.
“Breathe. Look at me,” he says.
You do.
“You can do this, I trust you.”
You have no choice but to believe him, not unless you’re going to leave him on the ground of the docking bay and hope he’s still alive when you get back with more bacta.
So you scrabble for a sloppy hold on the open wound and burn his skin together. It’s awful. You throw up after, stumbling to a corner behind a crate and emptying your stomach. The smell of singed flesh sticks to your clothes.
But it’s enough to get him back to the ship. Enough to get him laying on the crates in the hull while you dig up bacta patches and cover the burn. Enough that you can sit on the table and become abruptly aware of the hole in your shoulder just long enough for him to bandage you up himself.
Once you’re sure he’s not going to faint, or worse, you strip out of your ruined clothes and rinse his blood from you in the fresher. When you come back out, he’s cooking.
“What in the stars do you think you’re doing?”
“We both need to eat.”
“And you can wait five minutes for me to do it!”
“You’ve done so much, cyare, let me take care of you.”
You stomp your foot, balling your hands into fists. “You absolute idiot!” It comes out a bit more screechy than you’d like, but you think you’re entitled. “Sit down. You almost bled out. No, you know what? Go lay in the bunk.”
He turns the burner off and looks at you. Your hair is still dripping down the tunic you’ve borrowed from his shelf, and your mouth is twisted into a snarl. You’re flushed and tense, braced for a fight, but he sees the way your eyes keep flicking to his side, checking to see if the wound reopened, checking to make sure the blood is only burned into your memory and not trickling down his leg.
He regards you carefully and nods once, putting a hand up to stop the protest he knows will be coming. “Fine, but I’m staying here. I’m not leaving this room.” He moves slowly to the crates and sits down on your old bedroll. “Okay, sweetheart?”
“Fine.” You stomp around the kitchen, throwing together what can only vaguely be considered a meal. You hesitate when you hand it to him, wavering on the spot.
He knows you’re thinking the same thing. “Stay,” he says, so you don’t have to ask.
You look at him but don’t move.
He dips his helmet toward the ground and watches you work your jaw, biting your lip, before you give in and sink to your knees at his feet, facing into the belly of the ship. He sets the plate beside him and removes his gloves.
He feeds you while he eats. It’s not something you do often — you’re only barely domesticated when it comes to food security, often preferring to wolf down your meal on your own. But you can tell he needs it—needs to regain control over the situation, needs you to be close.
When he’s done, he replaces the helmet, and you take the plate to the sink.
“C’mere,” he says, reaching for your hand. You let him pull you close but protest when he tries to lift you onto the seat.
He gives in immediately, but when you hop up, he tries to pull you into his lap. “Can I have you, cyar’ika?”
“You’re hurt.”
“So are you. Fuck. I’ll be gentle.”
Your lip wobbles a little. He cups your face in one broad palm, and you lean into it, closing your eyes.
“I almost died,” he tries.
It has the opposite effect than he hoped. Your eyes snap open, and you pull away from him. “Exactly! You need to rest.”
“Can’t. Need you, pretty girl, please?”
You hesitate, so he follows it up with another, more playful “I almost died.”
“Stop it, that’s not funny.”
“It’s kind of funny. Look, if it’ll make you feel better, I have an idea.”
Your eyes narrow. “By the stars, if you say you want to try something right now, I’ll—I’ll—”
“You’ll humor me since I almost died?”
You swallow hard as the retort gets trapped behind the sudden lump in your throat.
He watches the way your lips fall slack and reaches up to curl his hand around your neck. “I’m okay,” he says.
You hold onto his wrist with both hands. “You almost died.”
His thumb brushes up and down. “Not really. You wouldn’t have let me.”
You hold back the sob, but your eyes prick at the corners, anyway. He brushes the tears away and sits up, pressing his helmet to your forehead.
“I ever tell you what this means?” his voice is so hushed, the modulator doesn’t pick it up. You only hear the real thing, the inflections, and rasp clear without the static.
“What what means?”
“This,” he pulls away a little and presses your heads back together. “This is how Mandalorians kiss when they can’t remove their helmets.”
Your chest feels like it’s been cleaved open.
“Is that okay?” he asks.
You pull back a little and carefully, slowly raise your hands up to cup the sides of his helmet before pressing your head back against his, exhaling shakily. He wraps his arms around you, nearly clinging. You shift to straddle his lap, feeling like you could crawl into him just to make sure his heart is still pulsing.
“It’s also useful for headbutting,” he says after a few minutes have passed.
When the laughter bursts from you, it springs free a few tears and a hiccup.
“Don’t cry, cyar’ika. I told you, I wasn’t worried. We’re a good team. I know you have my back.”
It only makes you cry harder.
“Hey, save those tears for later,” he murmurs. “You’ll need them after I’ve worn you out.”
You sniffle. “I knew you liked it.”
He thinks about telling you why. He thinks about telling you how the moments you burst into tears are how he knows you love him, even if you won’t say it. How it feels to know he’s the only one in the galaxy you’ll be vulnerable with, that you trust.
“What can I say? You’re so pretty when you suffer for me, sweetheart,” he says instead. Maybe later. Maybe when you both aren’t so raw, when he thinks you’re less likely to hide and lick your wounds.
He’s a patient man. He can wait for you.
His words make you squirm, and he takes the opening.
“I think you like it too,” he says, curling fingers under your chin. “You want me to make you suffer, cyare? Ready to try something new?”
You nod, looking into his visor with wet but yearning eyes. You knew you were going to give in. He had almost died. You wanted him to stitch up the part of you that had been so afraid.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs and pushes a thumb between your lips for you to suck on.
Your eyes flutter shut, the taste of him like iron and petrichor.
“Let’s go to the bed,” he murmurs. “I really do want to try something. It’ll make it easier to be careful.”
“Okay.”
When you’ve persuaded him that whatever you’re doing can be done with you both lying down and resting, he shows you a strange device.
“Is that for like… drugs or something?” you ask, squishing the soft rubber piece that looks like a mask.
“No, this is what’s going to help me ruin your cunt since you won’t let me move around.”
“Oh,” you whisper. You don’t understand, but you’re wet in anticipation anyway.
“Open,” he taps your knee.
You obey. You’re already starting to feel a little fuzzy around the edges. The adrenaline was wearing off fast, and he had slipped his collar around your neck a few moments earlier. And you know he needs this—you certainly do. He fits the little mask over your pussy. You clench your fist, trying to breathe steady. He shows you the bulb he’s attached to the end of a tube, and you realize what it’s for right as he squeezes it, and the mask pulls tight to you.
He pumps it a few more times as you stare at the hand holding the bulb. The sensation isn’t much, not yet, just a gentle hold and a faint tingle.
He watches your face. “How does it feel?”
“More, please, sir,” you say quickly.
It’s not quite an answer to his question, but he’s fairly sure you’re already gone, head empty of the day’s fear and drifting off at his whim. So he obliges. He can tell the moment it crosses into something ravenous.
Your eyes widen, pupils blown, and your mouth falls open. He can see your pussy lips swelling a little already and greedily pumps the bulb until you moan.
“That tight enough for you?” he asks, running a careful finger along the edge of the pump and your flesh. He’s rewarded with a shudder and retracts his hand.
“More, please.”
“Careful what you ask for,” he warns, but he’s already increasing the pressure. It’s sealed tight around your cunt, and he sets the bulb down, eager to watch you squirm.
You don’t disappoint. As the moments stack up, as five minutes creep by, you’re trying very hard to hold still and failing catastrophically. He traces the outline, skimming over throbbing flesh. A wicked grin grows as your whines increase in pitch and desperation.
After a few more minutes, he checks in again, noting the sheen of sweat on your brow. “Does it hurt yet?” he murmurs.
“A-a little,” you say, fidgeting.
“You want me to take it off and touch you?”
“Oh fuck.”
“I don’t know what that means,” he lays on the fake pity. “I’m just trying to help you, cyare, you need to tell me what you want.”
“Please,” you cry. “Please, more.”
“More what? More this?” he squeezes the bulb again, not that there’s much more he can do, but you wail anyway.
“Please, please touch me.”
He grabs the end of the pump and yanks. It pops off, and you keen, grabbing at him with shaking hands.
“Hmm.” He takes a moment to thoroughly enjoy the sight of your swollen, dripping cunt. He reaches down and lazily drags a finger across the seam, laughing when your hips buck up hard, knocking his finger between your lips.
“No, please,” you say as he pulls the finger away.
He spreads you, the tip of his finger honing in on your throbbing clit. His caress is soft, at first, and it doesn’t take you more than a moment to reach the edge. He doesn’t wait for you to beg, just demands your orgasm from your body with a strict command and stricter hands.
It hurts. It hurts so much you scream, but your body betrays how good it feels, despite the agony and humiliation. He’s relentless. It takes so little effort for him to tear you apart that by the time he eases you onto your side so he can slip his cock in, there’s nothing left in your tattered brain.
His thrusts are smooth but deep. You’re more than wet enough to ease the way, and swollen enough that your cunt swallows him whole, holding him tight. He luxuriates in the velvet embrace, groaning and rocking into you in spite of the ache in his side.
He abandons your clit, trading mercy for other tortures as his hands pinch and pull at your nipples. His grip is as tight as clamps, and he uses your tits as leverage to fuck into you. He urges you to cum again, and it pries a raw sob from your chest.
When he can’t take it anymore, he holds on to your breasts, one clenched tight in each hand, and pounds hard. You’re crying, but it’s reduced to little huffed sobs as his cock knocks them loose. He knows you’ll be mad that he’s exerting himself, so he makes it quick.
“Mine,” he snarls as he loses control, pushing deep inside to fill you. “You’re fucking mine, do you understand?”
“Yes, yes, please, yours,” you gasp.
“Don’t you fucking scare me like that again.” He can’t shut up. He can’t stopper the well as it bubbles up. “Almost fucking lost you.”
Later, you’ll remember what he’s saying, and snap at him indignantly, demanding again to know which of you nearly bled out. But it doesn’t matter, doesn’t register to him that your injuries and danger were so much less than his. All he can see is the man with a blaster pointed at your chest.
“Didn’t,” you say. “M’right here.” Your hand reaches up to hold the back of his neck. He’s softening inside you but doesn’t move to pull out.
He checks your bandage, but it looks intact. You try to roll over and check his, but he holds you tight. “It’s fine,” he reassures you. “Please stay.”
And if he’s bleeding just a little, he thinks, it was worth it for the way you’re finally calm enough to rest.
*title from "Everything Must Go" by Taking Back Sunday
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“Chaos Was Her Name”
Chapter One Chapter Two
Pairing- Konig x reader *call sign (phantom)*
Summary- König has been going to therapy for his depression and self isolation. That lands him in the therapists office when one mission goes wrong. But his whole world is gonna be turned upside down. Recently joining the 141 Task Force he keeps to himself. But things are gonna change.
TW-Mentions Blood, Death, Unprotected P in V Sex, Size Kink, Fluff, Pining, Some Angst, Lack of Sleep, Comforting, Praising Kink. Obsessive! König!
Warning ⚠️ ⚠️🔞🚫🚫
Explict Content Ahead. MDNI ⚠️
I did use Google Translate feel free to correct me.
A/N-I do not claim credit for the artwork. I do try to credit the source. I do apologize in advance if I offended anyone. I will do my best in the future to try to look up the names of the artists and credit them.
The watermarks are present in these images credit for the beautiful artwork goes to @ave661
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Previously in Chapter One-
Aksel glanced at him. Giving him a smirk. König scoffed at him and pulled a cloth from his chest pocket and started to clean his gun. Glancing at her every so often she stayed perfectly still with his jacket covering her. It warmed his heart. But deep down his cock throbbed for release. Shifting himself as he sat trying to sit comfortably while watching his goddess stay warm under his jacket.
That’s was enough for him for now.
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As the night progressed König watched phantom sit by the window watching the snow fall she didn’t move for the last 3 hours. Until a tall figure emerged from the darkness his netted hood touched her shoulder as he kneeled down beside her. Leaning down against her shoulder he whispered something to her. She slowly got up with Krueger help.
The fire crackled as a cold breeze swept the streets outside. The snow storm started to get worse. Rotation for watch duty started. Aksel tapped König pulling him out of his trance.
“König I’m gonna start my shift you can rotate after me.”
“Ja”
Ghost, Soap and Price and Gaz sat in the corner of the room talking in hushed whispers. Glancing around them they held a small map planning and going over their plans. Due to the snow storm they had to reevaluate their plans. But König was looking more forward to seeing his goddess. She looked up to Krueger they walked beside each other towards the fire. She sat across König with her balaclava covering her face she pulled down her mask. Sniffling a little she pulled her gloves off to warm her small delicate hands near the flames. Krueger sat beside her taking his gloves off as well warming his hands up near the fire. She looked at the fire with a weak smile. They sat in silence before König broke the silence. She wrapped herself up in König jacket. She shivered as the cold breeze swept through the room.
Krueger touched the jacket and he kept looking at the jacket that was wrapped around phantom.
“Here’s your jacket back?”
Holding his jacket out to him.
“Nein, you wear it you look cold.”
She nodded to him and wrapped herself up in his jacket tightly. Her arms and her body were swallowed up in his jacket. She looked adorable sitting by the fire wearing his jacket.
Krueger wasn’t amused that she was wearing König jacket. He kept staring daggers at him. Making his presence known to him and asserting his dominance over phantom.
“(y/n) you hungry?”
“Don’t call me (y/n) we aren’t friends like that”
“Just phantom”
She stared at the fire.
He nodded to her but under his hood he was smiling like a fool. Her spitfire attitude made his heart flutter and his cock quiver. His cargo pants tighten little by little begging for sweet release. König held a tin cup in his hands. The tin cup held hot chocolate. He swirled the hot liquid around in his cup.
“Are you hungry Maus?”
König asked again staring at her.
Looking up to meet his gaze she was about to speak but she was cut off by Krueger.
“We have our own supplies”
Krueger pulled his bag next to him pulling out a small bag of jerky and small bags or MRE’s. Krueger pulled out a small flask opening it up taking it under his veil he took a swig of it. Hissing as the hot liquid burned his throat he handed it to phantom. She took a sip from it coughing and clearing her throat she smirked to König.
“Did want some?”
She held out the flask to him. Offering him some as they sat around the fire.
Krueger growled at her looking down at her and to König. His face barely visible through his veil as the fire danced around in the room. The light of the orange fires illuminated the room.
She nudged him.
“No, thank you Maus”
She handed the flask back to Krueger. Taking it back he took another sip. Taking the food from his pack he hand her food. She ate in silence. Krueger excused himself to use the bathroom leaving phantom and König alone. Everyone else had fallen asleep or was on watch.
König glanced at her every so often but this time he stared at her. Watching her stare at the dancing flames he spoke.
“Maus want some hot chocolate?”
“What?”
“Hot Chocolate”
He held out his cup to her. She looked at him biting her lower lip and accepting his cup. He filled the tin cup for her. Watching her small hands wrap around the cup. Her delicate fingers grasping the cup. König shifted to try to hide his growing erection.
Watching her delicate pink lips touch the rim of the cup where his lips were at earlier. The way her lips deliciously connected to the cup made his erection become unbearable. He desperately held himself together watching her sip the hot chocolate. She finished the cup wiping her mouth with her glove she thanked him.
König took the cup back refilling it once again lifting it his mouth he tasted the rim of the cup. Tasting where her mouth once was he savored the taste of her sweet mint chapstick that stuck to the cup.
König continuously stared holes into her as she tried to keep her eyes from closing. He smiled at the effort she was making as she fought to stay awake. König stood up before he could take a step towards her Krueger emerged from the darkness. Quietly making his way towards the fire he stared at König. The silence was a clear message to him that (y/n) was off limits to him. But that made König want her attention even more.
“Lass uns etwas schlafen, mein Mädchen”
Krueger reached down scooping her up as she weighed nothing to him. Her tired eyes opened up she smiled to him as he carried her to where everyone was sleeping. Krueger tucked her into her sleeping bag covering her face with her balaclava and his jacket. He pulled König jacket off of her before tucking her away.
With König jacket in hand he walked back to him and tossed it to him. Krueger stood across from him staring daggers at him. König picked up his jacket and put it on. Watching Krueger stand up to him. König smiled at his effort to try to intimidate him.
“Halte dich fern von ihr”
“Dies ist die einzige Warnung, die Sie erhalten”
Kruegers voice laced with pure venom he scoffed at König and walked back to the room where phantom slept. He pulled out his sleeping bag laying it next to hers Krueger tucked himself away and laid beside her.
Listening to the sounds of her breathing he fell asleep beside her.
König sat down by the fire listening to the fire snap and crackle as the flames danced around. He stood up walking silently towards where Phantom and Krueger slept. Peering into the room he saw the pair sleeping. He walked away silently walked towards where Aksel set himself on watch duty.
“So brother I see your attention has been grabbed by Persephone”
“Persephone?”
Aksel chuckled softly glancing over to König raising his brow to him. Waiting for a response König shook his head chuckling at his joke.
“Our little spitfire nickname is Persephone. She doesn’t go anywhere without her hellhound at her side.”
“Hellhound?”
“Krueger”
Aksel shook his head laughing softly. Looking at his watch he sighed and leaned back against the wall. He inhaled and exhaled loudly before speaking.
“Brother, just be cautious around the pair. Krueger is unpredictable. Especially when it comes to Phantom. She went through a lot last year. So Krueger and her bonded over the trauma they went through last year she’s his rock and he’s hers as well. They can be unpredictable together.”
“Last year Phantom was kidnapped from her snipers nest they killed her spotter and grabbed her but she fought like hell. By the time we arrived to her position her spotter laid in a pool of his own blood clinging to life. He whispered what had happened and told us he held out for us to get there so we had a bit of information who grabbed her. Krueger was the one who listened to the dying Sergeant last words. About two weeks after that we finally got our lead but came up empty handed. We hit a dead end but Krueger taken a hostage and tortured the information out of the guy. That was our next lead it had been another week since we were able to locate where they were keeping her.”
“Krueger was a mess. Sleepless nights, his angry outbursts, walking around cursing in German. He was the first off the helicopter rushing towards the bunker they were holding her in. I tried to get him to stay with the team but he stormed his way in killing everyone stealthily only using his daggers.”
“Krueger was the one who found her. He never left her side as she was clinging to life her slow pulse left us all thinking she wasn’t gonna pull through. She was in a coma for about a month. Krueger stayed by her side and never left her.”
“When she woke up Krueger took her under his wing to train her. She’s been at his side training relentlessly. Krueger doesn’t talk much he’s the silent type. He will only speak with Gollum when he’s around at base or when she’s around when they are alone. So we pair them together everywhere we go.”
“Don’t get me wrong, they are hell of a pair to have at your side. We can be in hell with no way out but setting those two out they will carve a way out.”
“She’s a pretty woman but dangerous.”
König listened to Aksel but that wasn’t gonna scare him away. He only saw a goddess a force of nature that couldn’t be tamed.
König smiled under his hood looking out to the snow storm. Thinking of the goddess that slept in the next room.
The Next Morning
The sky lit up red hues and tones of orange and yellow. Phantom woke up first crawling out of her sleeping bag her small body ached from the night before. Getting up quietly she rolled up her sleeping bag tucking it away bag into her pack. Using her fingers brushing her hair back. She braided her hair into two braids. Pulling her balaclava over her face she rubbed her tired eyes yawning quietly. Adjusting her gear and vest she stood up stretching a small whimper left her lips. She looked back at Krueger sleeping form careful not to wake him she walked out of the room to find Aksel. Walking in the room she saw König standing by the window watching the sky change colors as the sun was rising.
“Morning”
König turned around surprised by her presence. She sat by the dying fire warming her hands up. She yawned and rubbed her tired eyes.
“Guten Morgen, Schatz”
The moment she sat down his heart flutter, drinking in her small tired form his cock harden the moment she yawned and a small whimper left her mouth. Rubbing her tired eyes made his cock quiver more.
König continued to eye her as she looked at her dirty hands and adjusting her gear warming herself up.
“Persephone”
König stared into her soul with a devilish grin on his face.
“No, you don’t get call me that we aren’t friends and I don’t know you.”
She stood up quickly. Standing before him looking up to him made König cock strain so much against his pants. He so desperately wanting to pick her up and take her to the empty room and bent her over one of the tables.
She jabbed his chest with her small delicate fingers. König was in heaven and lost in a fantasy. Just looking at her scolding him was pure joy.
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König Fantasy
“It would be so easy to pick her up throwing her over my shoulder taking her to the back room closing the door. Drinking in her form pulling the nearest table out bending her over it.”
“Touching her voluptuous round ass smacking her ass till she begs me to stop. Biting my lip so hard holding back the hunger that reside in me. Unbuckling her pants yanking them down to ankles. Caressing and squeezing her round ass again. Biting my gloves off with my cold fingers slowly moving to her stomach under the covers of her warm panties trailing down to her hot drenched pussy. Plunging my cold fingers deep into her to touch the places her small delicate fingers can’t touch. Just the thought of my cold thick fingers in her hot slick pussy feeling her clenched around my fingers.”
“Once I’m finished finger fucking you maus. I would pull your vest off along with everything else just leaving you in your bra watching your skin be covered in goosebumps from the cold breeze. Watching your nipples harden by the cold breeze. Running my cold wet fingers down the valley of your breast down to your stomach just to stop before your pussy. Watching you sigh with pleasure throwing your head back. Begging me to stop toying with you. Watching you shiver from the cold but tremble under my touch.”
“Licking my lips looking at your drench delicious looking pussy. The sweet nectar dripping between your plush thighs makes me hunger with starvation and dehydration. The sweet taste is probably like ambrosia from the gods. Oh will you give me the liberty to allow me to devour you wholeheartedly.”
“Watching your eyes roll to the back of your head while I lick stripes up and down your folds. Grazing my teeth over your delicate folds. Watching you Buck your hips upwards holding you down to stop you from trying to get away from me. Slowly moving my tongue up finding your clit. Kissing your clit just to hear you sweet moans and cursing. Massaging my tongue over your clit, sucking on your already overstimulated clit.”
“Swatting your hands away while you squeeze my head with your plush thighs.”
“I’m not finished yet Maus I still want more of your sweet ambrosia. I can keep going until I had my fill of your sweet nectar that comes from your sweet tasting pussy. Slapping her pussy he dives right back in sucking and licking her pussy.”
The sounds of slurping echoing in the room. Just the sounds of her pleas and cursing is music to my ears. But the way she would squirt in my face is pure heaven. Licking my fingers and wiping all of her nectar into my mouth savoring the taste of her.
“Maus that was only the beginning” The sounds of his belt unbuckling and his pants dropping to the ground along with his boxers.
“Grabbing her plush thighs lining myself up to her soaking drench pussy. Teasing my red throbbing tip on her folds. Watching her squirm and try to pull me into her makes me hunger for me like a beast.”
“Just the throbbing red tip touching her lips makes it hurt so much. I so desperately want to be buried in her.”
“Shoving my cock into her watching her face twist and gasp with pure pleasure and pain.”
“Ugh that noises she would make and the feeling oh her clenching on my cock. Feeling my blue balls finally get the relief they need”
Pushing down your lower stomach feeling my fat cock cause a bulge in your stomach. With a hard thrust in the beginning then pacing myself. Just feeling you clench around my cock and feeling the tip of my cock kissing your cervix is probably pure heaven. Touching your breast and pinching your nipples is only the small part of heaven on your body. Leaning forward ripping your bra off your body letting your two most precious breast bounce around before me. Licking my lips capturing one nipples into my mouth, with one my other hand squeezing your breast in my strong grasp while I fuck my pent up frustration into your hot slick drench pussy. The feeling of you reaching your climax I will forever remember that feeling. Savoring every moment as if it was last.
“Oh the things I would do to you my Maus. You won’t be able to walk for days”
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“König!”
“Are you listening to me! Get down!”
Pulling him down to the ground she ripped him from his trance of being lost in a fantasy.
Dust filled the air. Everything and everyone struggling to get up from the ground. König started to crawl but his hands were in between phantom legs. Touching her very heated core that was drenched.
She was struggling to center herself she looked down to König who froze as she made eye contact with him and to his hand that was between her legs. She didn’t move or say anything to him.
Krueger rushed from the room calling out to her. She shifted her legs quickly crawling on her hands and knees away from König.
“Krueger! I’m here!”
“What happened! Are you hurt my schatz!”
“No I’m okay!”
“I was by the window when I saw a missile headed this way and it hit the ground level of the building. Our contact gave up our position. We’ve been compromised. We gotta get out now! Where’s Aksel!”
“König!, Gather your team we gotta move now!”
Captain Price and Ghost, Aksel were outside surveying the land to get a glimpse of their surroundings when they heard the explosion. Running back to the building they were in they saw Gaz and Soap running out of the building with Phantom, Krueger and König being the last one.
“Bloody Hell”
Ghost rushed to Soap and Gaz examining them as they were coughing trying to catch their breaths.
“Is everyone good. Anyone broken?”
Price checked on everyone. Phantom sat down on the snow covered ground trembling with fear and adrenaline. Krueger kneeled down beside her trying to comfort her. With her trembling hands she tried to brush back her stray hairs. Price kneeled down beside her checking her for any wounds. Handing her his canteen she sipped on it still shaking.
“I’m okay Captain. Just a bit shaken up is all.”
Aksel called over Krueger. Leaving her by herself shaken up by the explosion. She was a trembling mess. She offered a weak smile to Captain Price while König saw this as his chance. He pulled a handkerchief from his front pocket kneeling before her wiping the tears off her cheek. Wiping the sweat off her brow. Pulling the glove off his hands he caressed her face.
Lost in his trance he stared at her lovingly. She looked up to him before Krueger called out to her.
She looked down quickly standing up grabbing her rifle she walked over to Krueger who was talking with Aksel and Ghost.
Where she was sitting was a small charm that was attached to her rifle. It had a small ghost and a red and blue bead that had tiny black specks covering it. The string on it ripped. Picking up the charm he pocketed it. With his hand in his pocket he twirled the small trinket around his fingers. The way she looked back at him made his heart flutter.
Listening to the plans of engagement she kneeled on the ground cleaning her rifle. Listening to Captain and Askel devise their plans she looked over to König he had his hand under his veil. His eyes closed he was smelling one of her panties that he pulled out of her bag. She had changed her clothes the night before and placed her dirty underclothes in her bag. König caught a glimpse of her changing under the cover of darkness with his night vision.
“Alright are we ready”
Captain Price glanced over to everyone. König crumple up her panties in his hands carefully hiding it in his hands he pocketed her panties away.
Standing up he glanced over to phantom. Watching her stand up and lean onto Krueger. Smiling in her direction he drank in her delicious figure. But his eyes lingered on her ass and between her plush thighs that held all that sweet nectar. Waiting for him to dive into and drink and suck to his hearts content.
“Alright teams now”
“Phantom, König, Ghost”
“Your team is sneaking in and getting a layout of what we’re up against.”
Price sorted teams and Krueger gripped her shoulder harshly. She looked at him with a surprise look. He grunted and placed his hand on her lower back pulling her close to him.
“Aksel, Gaz and Soap”
“You’re headed in once the signal has been given.”
“Krueger and Me will take our position up on the bell tower. From there we’ll get a better view on the ground and anything from the air.”
“Get the data and leave no one alive we are here specifically to eliminate the problem and get the data and back out.”
“Once we’re in the clear Krueger and I will set the charges and we will rendezvous back here.”
Watching phantom and Krueger talk she pulled her balaclava down smiling to him and hugging him she handed him her rifle.
König twisted the panties around his fingers tightly as his cock grew harder and strained more against his cargo pants.
“Ready now”
Her pink flushed cheeks stared at König as he eyed her up and down. Staring into her soul he thought back when his hand rested between her legs and how wet and hot she felt with his hand there.
“Cover me Phantom, let’s head out now”
Ghost glanced at her he crouched down with his weapon drawn walking carefully through the snow. The snow had started to falling again covering the ground and their tracks again. The cold breeze his her small body. She shivered while walking behind Ghost.
König stayed close to her watching their surroundings but his line of vision constantly wandered to her ass and her legs.
König inner dark thoughts.
“I wonder what it feels like to have her legs wrapped around my waist as I fuck her brains out against the wall.”
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ctitan98official · 3 months
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Alcina blinds Y/N in one eye angst part 9
This part of the AU was generously sponsored by my friend @ironicfury ! (That’s why I was able to get it out so fast lol) Big thanks, bud :D This is the start of a very awkward breakfast… Read the last part here! Let’s get into it!
The tension was palpable as Alcina returned to her chambers after speaking with the girls. She had successfully spun her web of lies, but maintaining the facade was becoming increasingly difficult. As she entered the room, she found you standing by the bathroom door, dressed in fresh clothes, your expression a mix of perplexity and annoyance.
“What’s going on, Alci?” You questioned, your eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Alcina forced a smile, attempting to mask her unease. “Oh, just some trivial matters, draga. Nothing for you to worry about.” Her words came out smoother than she expected, considering the turmoil inside her.
You raised an eyebrow but decided not to press further. You can tolerate her bullshit if it means you’ll get to see Hope. “Fine, let’s go have breakfast then,” You said, letting the matter drop for now. 
Alcina’s mind raced with thoughts of how she would navigate this delicate situation. She’s been lying so much, it’s hard to tell fiction from reality at this point.
You, on the other hand, can see the stress on Alcina’s face. You grin at this, feeling somewhat satisfied. Alcina may have ‘Gotten what she wanted’, but she is totally miserable trying to scheme her way through this mess.
The two of you are silent as you make your way downstairs. It’s awkward as hell to walk right next to this pathetic monster. You hate being alone with her now. But, you are finally spared from your personal torture as you both make it to the grand dining hall. It looks… Just like it did the last time you saw it. You grit your teeth. It’s like stepping back in time or something. You were a completely different person back then. Naive. Gullible. It feels like that was a lifetime ago.
You wish tragedy hadn’t made you so wise.
However… You see a sight that makes your heart absolutely swell with love. It’s Hope. Your precious daughter is alright. After everything you’ve both been through. So much has happened in the few days you have been apart. You want to burst into tears and run over to hold her in your arms, but think better of it. You have to really control yourself right now. Alcina will be analyzing every single one of your expressions. It’s like walking a tightrope with no net.
Hope giggles excitedly when she spots you. “Mm!” She coos at you, delighted to see her parent. 
It crushes you to know that Hope will never see Elena again. She had the most breathtaking, kind, and gentle mother ever… And Alcina took her away. Fuck, you hate her guts.
Bela is holding Hope right now and gently bouncing her in her arms. “Who is that, Hope?” She asks with a smile and points over at you.
Oh… The girls. Shit. You feel so guilty for leaving without giving them an explanation. They didn’t do anything wrong. They deserved better. It was their mother that ruined everything. All three of them are misty-eyed as they look at you for the first time in two years.
Dani can’t hold back. “Y-Y/N!” She weeps and immediately runs into your arms.
You hold her tight as Cass and Bela join in on the hug, Hope squirming happily in between you all.
Your daughter pats your arm gently with her little hand, telling you hello. You can’t help yourself and nuzzle your face into her hair, kissing her head. “Hi, baby girl,” You greet her softly. You also pray Alcina didn’t hear that…
Everyone that you love and care about is in your arms. You realize that you can’t leave Bela, Cass, and Dani behind again. Your plan has changed. You have four people to save from Alcina now. The biggest problem with that is the girls’ loyalty to Alcina. You actually spoke once with Cass about this long ago. She described her and her sisters’ devotion to Alcina as almost… Instinctual. Like an imprint of sorts. Well… You definitely have your work cut out for you.
Alcina is on pins and needles as she watches you and the girls. She doesn’t want you to be overwhelmed. “Dragas,” She says, gently warning them.
You roll your eyes. Of course Alcina had to dampen the mood. Time to get back to your ridiculous charade. You internally sigh as you reluctantly pull away from your girls.
“Umm… Hi, everybody?” You say, trying to act confused. Honestly, this whole plan of playing dumb is so silly, you’ll admit it. What, you just woke up today and the past few years since you left magically… Disappeared? Yeah, right.
… Damn. Only someone as desperate as Alcina would fall for that. 
“Who is…?” You begin but trail off, pointing at Hope. It feels about as good as a rusty nail to the eye to pretend you have no memory of your daughter.
Alcina clears her throat and walks over to Bela, holding her hands out for the little one.
Hope chews on her hand and smiles adoringly at Alcina as the countess kisses her tiny cheek.
It takes everything in you not to snarl at Alcina and snatch your baby right out of her hands. You literally bite your tongue so hard you taste blood. Seeing Hope in Alcina’s arms. After all this bitch has done? It kills you.
“Draga, this is… Hope,” Alcina finally says, worried that hearing your daughter’s name will suddenly jog your memory. “She is our… New daughter, Y/N.”
‘Our new daughter’?
She wants Hope for herself. She wants to insert herself where she doesn’t belong. Alcina’s got a lot of fucking nerve. It seems she already has another elaborate lie up her sleeve. You’re dreading whatever crock of shit she’ll try to sell you next. It’s sure to be just as stupid and outlandish as ever.
She’s taken your happiness, your sight in one eye… The love of your life. You’ll make sure to single-handedly steal everything she holds dear.
Agonizingly slow. 
Piece by piece…
It will be so much more enjoyable that way.
Note: The girls did nothing wrong and I want to save them! (We’ll see how that goes, though)
Masterlist
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esterzach · 6 months
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Second lesson
I have no shame. Feel free to ignore it. I know my English is not even close to enough to do this properly. Also ... Do I have the right to do this since I haven't read the books? I'd say after every screaming voice, that somehow all of a sudden became an expert in writing, a critic that felt obliged to shit over my favourite characters - this is incredibly satisfying. Again. I have no shame. For this at least.
Second lesson
Rand eyed her across the room, finally alone. The only other person in the spacious room was Moiraine. She was quiet, more than before, staring into the space, sipping from a small cup of tea. The young man swallowed. After everything that happened that day, Moiraine had said too little and he wasn’t exactly focused on her until now. His attention went to the storm of events, and to his friends, now gathered together in the same place. It was a long night, conversations, heated debates, accusations, revelations…
Not a few of the accusatory glances were aimed toward the Aes Sedai. For some of the little group, she was still an enigma and now they actually had something solid to blame her for. She had hidden the truth about Rand. No matter how much he had explained that it was his choice to leave them, that he was the one to ask Moiraine to make them believe he was dead, he doubted that they would soon believe him and stop being angry at her. But aside from the dirty looks thrown at Moiraine, most of them didn't dare to confront her.
Nynaeve… was a different story. Her anger was heard throughout the inn where they were all gathered. Even Lan couldn’t make her stop, although after a while he took her arm and dragged her outside in the corridor.
Moiraine remained silent. Perrin and Mat stared into each other, silently. The confusion and the distrust toward the Aes Sedai were palpable.
And Moiraine was just sitting there.
She looked pale and tired. On the light of the candles and fire from the hearth, her age seems even more elusive. A beautiful woman, but her delicate features were veiled with profound tiredness and sadness. Rand knew why. What he had seen and heard the previous day and last night was enough to have a much better understanding of what this woman was carrying. And yet, it was hard to imagine. Somewhere in his mind, the idea of Moiraine Sedai was changing. Reshaping. The fearsome image of the manipulative secretive woman shited toward something more familiar. More human. The icy facade had fallen.
For the first time since he met her over a year ago, behind the idea of an Aes Sedai, a woman has formed. A woman of flesh and blood, with heart and feelings. A human being, who was capable of hurting, of fear, of love.
Odd, he thought. He had seen her suffer before, he had seen her on the brink of death. He had watched this man hoover over her, her bodyguard, who warned him with a simple look, that whatever she thought he and his friends were, he won't hesitate to swing with a sword and slit their throats, if they dared even look at her the wrong way. He wondered back then what sort of debt or reason he had to walk after her like a loyal dog. What kind of a leash did she have on him so she held him so tight? Was he a servant, attached to her by orders from The White Tower? A lover maybe, who she had wrapped up in her nets years ago by an evil spell, that he fell victim somehow to her magic, and still hadn't realized that he sacrificed everything for someone who hardly ever even spoke to him. He had carried her unconscious body in his arms, tended her wound, and gave her water like a husband to a sick wife. And Rand still didn't quite understand.
He had seen her help and heal his father, then Mat. Maybe she really was on his side, he thought back then. And although some form of respect had formed in him, she was still an Aes Sedai. Never mind they all called her Moiraine, not even Moiraine Sedai. She had never insisted on that, never reminded them of her status. But he was way too wrapped up in himself and his own fears to notice. For him, she looked like some creature out of fairytales, or legends, not exactly real, dangerous, dark, and not at all trustworthy. Her powers intimidated him, and her plans and secrets made him suspicious. But last night he had stood in front of her to protect her from Lanfear's wrath. And there, for the first time, he saw her. Whatever happened between her and the Amyrlin seat, Rand was too busy to notice in the Palace. Their quarrel and the chilling prospect of their words were more than enough. His life and freedom were on the line. The fear that he had lost to the mighty Aes Sedai order had paralyzed him just as effectively as the shield Suan Sanche had put over him. Dark thoughts into a fog that blurred his senses kept him immobile, while he struggled to understand what was going on.
Then somehow he was free. Sheer luck, stars aligned, the whim of the Wheel, or it was a master plan from the woman in a blue dress, who was currently sitting there just a couple steps from him, but may as well be on the other side of the world.
Perin and Mat went to their rooms. They threw one last look at Moiraine, and still undecided how to treat her - if she was a threat or a friend, they left. Egwene needed healing, Elayne too. Moiraine took care of both of them. And they were resting now.
Yet the woman, who had spent at least the last several days with little to no sleep at all, trying to get him to Falme and had paid what seemed like quite the costs for her efforts, was still awake. Rand had learned what she had done for him. She was probably exhausted beyond words. He knew by now she wouldn't say anything. But she usually retrieved to her chambers. Now she was just standing there, in her chair, frozen, like a statue. 
“Moiraine, I…” he felt he had to say something. But he wasn’t exactly sure what.
Even if he had heard him, she didn’t show it.
“I wanted to… say that… I am sorry.” He struggled with his words. Ancient prophecies or not, Dragon or not, he felt like a child, who had stepped into the middle of a fight between adults. And now was scared that it might have been his fault. She didn’t look at him. “For what?” came a question. Her hoarse voice was quiet and distant. “For… what happened last night.” He wasn’t sure if he had the right to speak of… it. There, at the Waygate, he had finally seen the woman behind the Aes Sedai. Not Moiraine Sedai, Lady Damodred, not a random blue witch or a sister from the bloody White Tower of Tar Valon. Moiraine. 
Just Moiraine.
He had helped her last night. Her “thank you” filled with so much emotion, that humbled him. He didn’t have the time to think there since The Amyrlin had appeared. But now… Now, after the chaos had settled for the day, he had some time and quiet to think. And she was right there in front of him. Moiraine had been shielded. Not only that. Moiraine had been shielded for six months. He was shielded for a couple of hours and it felt like hell.
She had been carrying a shield for months.
What she had said to him in the Palace - it feels like you've lost everything that you ever were and everything you could possibly be. And with this nonchalant almost dismissive tone at that. As if it wasn't a big deal. Is that what it had been for her during all that time? She was running around, trying to get him away from Lanfear with just a knife, all alone. He briefly noticed that Lan wasn't with her. Since when she was alone? He had attacked her, thinking she had killed Selene! The stupidity... She has stood up to a Forsaken. Twice. For him.
No. Not for him. She believed it was for the whole world. She had dragged him around, and when he was about to drop from exhaustion and all he wanted was to sleep, she had said that this was not an option for her. How long has it been since that day? And all that time she had been powerless. Just a simple fragile woman. And Lanfear just threw them somewhere in the middle of nothing. The woman he trusted. He had trusted a Forsaken. Instead of the Aes Sedai who had saved the life of his friends.
Rand took a breath. Then he heard her:
“You removed the shield. For that I am thankful.”
He was about to protest, but she spoke again.
“Thank you for standing for me in front of Lanfear.”
He swallowed. That was sort of his fault too. Moiraine has agreed to his plan. But Lanfear… was slightly unpredictable. She had promised that the next time she saw him with Moiraine, she would kill her. It would have taken a flick of her wrist and… But that wasn’t what he meant either.
“I meant…” - his throat went dry. The fire cracked in the fireplace, and sparks flew around in the air. Muffled conversations from somewhere outside barely reached them. Otherwise, it was quiet. "The Amyrlin... She..."
“Don’t.”
The ice in her tone made him flinch. She had turned to him, he noticed it when he lifted his head to look at her direction. Then she added in an even more quiet voice, a whisper. "Please." She slowly shook her head and froze in place again. A distant memory from many months ago resurfaced - he had seen this face before. Back in the Blight, he had asked her if it was hard to leave Lan behind. She hadn’t spoken a word back then - her expression was oddly blank. She seemed far away, staring at the distance. Now she had the same look on her face. As if a wall was raised around her. Detaching her from the world. A safe place where she could hide her pain. But now he saw it. He had heard their conversation and the anguish in their voices. He had no idea that the terrifying Amyrlin seat meant something completely different for Moiraine. At first, he had thought they were close friends who grew up together like he had with Mat and Perin, had similar skills and experiences, shared the same view of the world, and were connected through The Tower. But... “If you ever loved me, don’t do this!”
It took him some time to understand the meaning behind the words.
“If you ever loved me”
Slowly her plea sunk in his brain. Words repeated in his head, voice cracking. The way she had said the name of the Amyrlin. The other woman did it anyway. The coldness in her voice like nothing he ever heard before snapped like a whip on a bare skin. Something big had happened there, he was able to understand this much. Something, that has shaken Moiraine to the core. The Amyrlin made her close the Waygate. She has accused Moiraine of lying and had spoken of an Oath... And somehow it was connected to him. The woman in front of him took a shaky breath. That was the only indication something was happening inside her. “Moiraine!” Lan's worried voice appeared from nowhere and stormed through the door. Nynaeve was right behind him. His whole attention focused on her. Nothing indicated trouble though. The pale woman just stood there, her back straight on her chair, and kept staring in front of her. Her eyes seemed fixed now in a certain spot but there was nothing in particular there.
Lan turned toward Rand and snarled. 
"What did you do?" 
"Nothing!", came the weak response.
Rand searched Nynaeve for help but she didn't look at him at all. Her attention was elsewhere. What he saw in her very much resembled guilt.
"What is wrong with her?"
"Stop talking, sheepherder!" 
Rand was on his feet worried and guilty. 
"Moiraine" , Lan's voice has changed. A sudden gentle tone appeared as if out of nowhere. 
He took a step towards her. When he got close, he touched her shoulder carefully. 
Moiraine exhaled. As if she had forgotten to breathe for a while there. She looked as if she was drowning just a second ago, and struggled to take a breath now. Her shoulders shook for a second.
"Moiraine! Look at me." It took her almost a minute, but she turned toward Lan. The glassy eyes barely registered that he was there. He was observing her, bowed before her as if trying to assess if she was somehow hurt. But her face showed nothing.
Lan leaned forward, he kneeled before her and their foreheads met. He closed his eyes, leading her to do the same. For a long moment, they stood like that. Not moving, not speaking. Only the muscles on Lan's face gave away a struggle, an effort, some underlying torture, that was left unseen by anyone else. Moiraine's face remained calm, almost serene. Then they both opened their eyes and looked at each other. 
Her mouth twisted slightly. Brows knitted, and her chin quivered. 
His hand went over her heart and remained there as if attempting to soothe an invisible wound.
"Oh, Moiraine!" 
A strangled sound came from her. 
Fear crept through Rand again. He didn't really understand what was happening before his eyes. What he saw was that the woman slowly was beginning to breathe more deeply and normally again. Her face though still taut, relaxed a bit, as she leaned into the man.
"Come on. Let's go get some rest." 
She nodded. 
He helped her stand up. But when she tried to take a step, her legs buckled, she swayed and stumbled. Lan grabbed her arm to steady her. One look at her and he nodded. With a swift move, as if he had done that many times before, he took her in his arms and lifted her. Her head fell on his shoulder immediately, she had closed her eyes and relaxed against him. The man carried her out with seemingly no effort at all. *** He stood behind the door for what seemed like ages, debating, arguing with himself. One part of him definitely screamed he had no right to go there, but the other was worried. Somehow he ended up worrying about an Aes Sedai. No. He corrected himself. Not an Aes Sedai. About Moiraine. Now his mind could see the difference. He knew that both were inseparable. But somehow they meant two very different things for him. There was no sound. Nobody has left the room for the night. It was almost dawn, but outside was still dark. Aside from the creaks here and there of wooden floors and beds, the whole building was quiet. Soft steps of the women who woke up early and started to roam around doing their daily chores could be heard. One of them approached, threw him a curious look, opened the door quietly, and entered the room. Rand hesitated for a couple moments but decided to use the opportunity. The woman left a tray with tea cups, water, and some food and left without a word.
Rand looked around in the semi-dark room. A few candles spread soft golden light but not enough to actually light up the room properly. His eyes finally landed on what he was looking for. There, on the thick mattress on the very floor, curled up under a blanket, the Aes Sedai was finally, finally asleep. Her face was now calm, she looked younger, even more beautiful than he remembered her. Behind her was her Warder, fully awake, his eyes fixed on the young man who just entered the room. His back against the wall, not moving a muscle, he was on his usual post - guarding his Aes Sedai dreams.
Rand finally understood him. The sudden urge to bow to this man startled him. A new respect for the Malkieri built within him. There was something else. Some other nagging feeling, unpleasant, underneath of it all. Shame. He was ashamed of his previous thoughts about this man.
"I just... wanted to see if everything is... I didn't want to..." Why all of a sudden his mouth refused to work.
"Learn to keep your mouth shut, sheepherder! That is your second lesson." Lan answered with a low voice. His face didn't change. There was no malice, nor anger. It was a simple statement.
"Is she… Is she going to be alright?"
 "She needs sleep."  He whispered. Rand nodded again. He turned around to leave the room. He heard Lan's quiet voice again behind him. "Sometimes it feels like she is carrying the world on her shoulders. Sometimes… this is actually true." 
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hermesserpent-stuff · 19 days
Text
spoilers for Transmutation of the Soul
reader beware theres spoilers in there!
Ryker feels a note of hopelessness as he stares at the empty spot that the Bloodwrath brothers normally rented. He tries to breathe. And he succeeds. Kind of. He manages to ruthlessly shove down all the pain in his heart for the moment. He walks away, hands tightening into fists. It would be easier to feel anger. It would be easier if he could blame someone other than himself. But ultimately it is his fault. He had pressed for adoption and it is his pressing that got Viggo to agree and then they had…
He tries to distract himself by heading to the food vendors. His feet take him to the honey oatcake stall where the lady looks up at him and tilts her head slightly.
“Are they with you? I heard they were on your island from your hunters a little while ago.”
The seller asks and there is no need to clarify the who of her question. 
“We… we had hoped to find them here.”
He admits low and careful not to crack. Not to yell. Yelling would not help here. 
“They haven't been here in two months.”
She says softly and he finds himself leaning against the counter of the stall. The seller rounds the counter, gently touches his arm, and delicately pulls him into the closed off part of her stall that is hidden from the rest of the Market. Ryker finds his hands shaking as he is guided to a stool. His mind is swirling and rage at himself battles with a wave of despair. They had searched all over the seas for the two brothers. They had found Dagur’s Grimborn leather band in one of their nets. He has to hope they are not dead. That they had not driven them so far away that no one could help them. If they stopped coming to the market, there is no guarantee that they will be able to get the supplies they need. Like medication for Hiccup, or food supplies. 
A hot mug is pressed into his hands cutting into his thoughts. The seller raises an eyebrow as he blankly stares.
“Hot honey water. Drink it. And… From what I know of men, it is easier to cry in private away from prying eyes than it is to mourn in public. I will be back in a little bit when youve had time.”
And then she is gone through the flap.
Just like that, tears sting his eyes. He had not shed a single tear since the hunt for the two boys had started. He had yelled. He had screamed. He had fought with his brother over and over and bruised his hands punching dummies and railings of ships. The warm cup is nice against his aching hands. He bends his head and lets a few tears out. He sips the drink slowly and rebuilds his walls as best he can, blinking away further tears. The heat of the drinks settles him and grounds him to the here and now. 
The lady comes back in a little bit and settles on another stool and picks up a box.
“Are you steady?”
She asks kindly. He nods slowly. 
“Good. Now I know you because you’re Ryker Grimborn, but I don't assume you know me. I am Clelia Claudius Malleola. And I like those boys. And I assume that you like them too. And I love information.”
She taps the top of the box. Ryker swallows. He is not as good at talking as Viggo. Viggo who had been driving himself nuts since the boys had fled.
“I see.”
He does not.
“First though… I want to know what happened. I know from the hunters who passed that they were stranded at sea sick and were brought back to your island. And were there for a while.”
Ryker swallows again.
“We offered to adopt them. And they ran off.”
“Ah… Well. That's less than ideal. That could make them avoid the Markets. But… my other theories could still stand.”
Ryker scrunches his nose.
“Thanks for reminding me.”
She shakes her head. 
“Those boys are damaged and hurting. You offering to adopt them is sweet. But they are likely to never respond normally to that sort of thing. Especially with a father like that Oswald fellow, or with tribes like the Hooligans and Berserkers. Where Hiccup should have died and Dagur was always under threat.”
Ryker tenses, familiar licking his bones. He can work with anger. It is despair and sadness he cannot handle.
“Tell me.”
He leans forwards. Clelia tucks a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear and then opens the box. It is full of papers, books, and a few knick-knacks. 
“When the boys first failed to show up, I started digging about the two tribes that were mentioned. I thought they might have been dragged back down to the Barbaric Archipelago. I cornered Johan, the chatty rat, and got Rune to help me do a shake-down. Rune’s none to pleased that Johan’s loose lips got Oswald to come up here after them.”
She huffs and clicks her tongue. Then keeps going.
“So I got everyone in the market whose a regular to pitch in info on top of what Johan was scared into giving. Tove was particularly heartbroken when the boys did not show up, so he added the most. We then stopped when we heard they were with you, but now we’ll get to digging again if there is any chance that their status as ex-heirs might have gotten them taken to the south. Here.” She hands over the box. “For you and your brother. You have more ships and manpower than we do. And we all know you love those boys as much as we adore them. Find them. Bring them home.”
She demands and he finds himself nodding as he takes the box and holds it close. 
“We will. If we have to burn down Yggdrasil to do it.”
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annikin-annotates · 6 months
Text
Tear You Apart - Chapter 1
Hi hello, back with another chapter! This chapter deals heavily with SA trauma, so if that isn't something you feel comfy reading; please take care of yourselves first, love ya'll.
Content warnings: Non-con, Cannibalism as a metaphor for love, Smut, Dom/Sub, BDSM, Choking, Antagonist is NOT Astarion, Collaring.
Word Count: 5,282
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Sunsets were always gorgeous this time of year, when the waters became frigid and the pack moved on to warmer waters. She would always spend the last night watching the sunset from the mouth of the Chionthar. The deep gold of the setting sun waning to hues of purple and blue, broken up by mottled clouds of violet and gold. It sent the waves around her shimmering with the last moments of sunlight as it dipped below the horizon, giving way to the moon.  
She had always found great comfort in these moments, the tranquillity of being surrounded by nothing but the ocean and all those who lived under her protection. Her pack had found safety and protection beneath her waves for centuries, each generation more fearful of the surface than the last. They had every right to be terrified, humans had hunted them to near extinction for the sake of their own selfishness and curiosity, sentencing them to a miserable life on land, forever longing for the touch of the sea.   
Another head surfaced from the depths of the water, slitted eyes and familiar dark tresses spreading a smile across her face. “Decided to brave the surface, have you?” she asked her friend, her eyebrows raised as she watched her sink below the surface again and popping up closer to her. 
“No Na-Mara, I’m here to tell you to hurry up. Everyone is leaving,” she huffed, feigned annoyance crossing her delicate features as she rolled her eyes. 
“Oh come on Muir - Who knows how long it’ll be before we see another sunset like this. I mean, look at it, it’s gorgeous isn’t it?” she countered, grabbing her friends shoulders and angling her towards the sunset, the hue changing almost entirely over the course of their short conversation. The light blues and violets traded for deep indigo, the seemingly endless expanse beginning to sprout stars that glittered like jewels. 
Her eyes scanned across the cityscape, watching shadows pass by windows in houses and lovers walking along the boardwalk arm in arm. She couldn’t deny the pang of jealousy that shifted in her, digging its claws into the pit of her stomach. What a delight it would be to walk among them, to enjoy the sunshine and cool breeze as a human. 
Muir sighed and rolled her eyes before agreeing “Yes, I guess it is somewhat enrapturing,” Na-Mara couldn’t help but chortle. Both of them floated idly, resting their heads on one another, taking in the scenery before it would become nothing but the endless expanse of deep inky blackness of the ocean.
Creaking of a ship pulled both of them from their daze, it was a sound she had heard many times before, and yet this time was all the more harrowing. The shouting and pointing of the crew alerted them to the fact that they had been seen; a pit settled in her stomach. Na-Mara turned her head towards her friend, “They can’t catch us both, get out of here!” she shouted.
Muir shook her head furiously, her wet tresses skimming the water, “Not without you!”the panic rising in her voice as a net was tossed over the side, ensnaring Na-Mara.  
“Go Muir! Get out of here! Save yourself!” she begged, hoping her friend would find the bravery to flee. One of them had to make it out alive, one of them needed to live; it had to be Muir, she was sweet - new to the world and all of its cruelties. Muir looked up at her in horror as Na-Mara was lifted from the water and onto the ship, before diving back beneath the waves to the darkness below. 
She landed on the deck of the ship with a wet slap, a dry gasp tore through her as the air was knocked out of her lungs, her back colliding with the hard wood of the deck. The worn rope net was thicker than what she had seen normal fishermen use, which indicated that they weren’t out here fishing - they were hunting something, and with the way several people descended on her, Na-Mara figured that it was her kind they were after.
She lashed out with a swipe of her talons, though it only caused her to become more tangled in the net. Voices overlapped all around her as her body became heavier and heavier, her willingness to fight dwindling. This was it, she was going to die. She was going to be slaughtered on the floor and thrown back into the ocean, all for the sake of a pelt.  
In her final conscious moments she casted her mind to warm memories of the life she had lived - however short it was. Her mother would weep for her, they all would - she would no doubt be the source of insurmountable grief to her family for centuries to come. She regretted not embracing her mother before she left, she wished she could tell her not to worry, and that she loved her. Blackness danced at the edges of her vision, a sign her end was nearing, she used the final breath she had in her lungs to let out a bitter laugh.
Fucking humans. 
The rocking of the sea pulled her from her forced slumber, waves lapping against the worn hull of the ship. A yawn escaped her as she tried to stretch her arms and legs, only to be met with the resistance as she did so, the rope groaning as she tried to slip from the bonds. 
Her heart began to thrum in her chest: Why could she not move? Why could she not see? Why was she bound? Why was she still alive? The memories of how she got there were foggy at best, whoever had captured her did not want her to escape. 
Capture?
She felt cold. Colder than she had ever been, the type of cold that reached the very marrow of her bones. Her skin pulled taught over her trembling fingers, flesh groaning each time she flexed them. She tried to focus on any prominent sounds she could hear, she could see naught but darkness, unable to see her fingers if she held them directly in front of her face - the bastards had taken her eyesight from her. 
Her head swam with thoughts, all of them screaming over one another to be heard, You fool, why did you stray so close to the harbour? The only thing you have gained from this is your obituary, the voices spat. How could she be so stupid? Hot tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, Gods, the last thing I want to be before I die is a crying maiden. 
“Where’s my pelt?” she asked out into the expanse of nothingness that surrounded her, feeling the air in the room shift as someone new entered. 
“I am sorry, truly, but I cannot tell you,” he replied, almost sounding remorseful, though something in his voice told her that it wasn’t the first time he had done this, and it wouldn’t be the last. 
“Please, I’m begging you. My pelt is important to me, I need it to get home!” she cried, desperation becoming clear in her voice. Her pelt was the key to get home, she was nothing without it.
Time passed in a haze of blackness, without the use of her eyes she could hardly tell up from down, never mind how long she had been…well, wherever the hells she was. But she could feel that she had been placed on a bed of straw and if she focused hard enough, she could hear footsteps overhead. Every now and again she could hear soft voices and clinking glasses, though even with her hearing she couldn’t make out what they were saying. 
There were chains around her wrists that pinched and nipped at her skin when she moved, anchoring her to an unseen point in the room. Her knees pressed to her chest as she tucked herself tightly into a ball. Rocking herself back and forth softly, emulating the ever changing push and pull of the ocean; her only source of comfort. 
Gods, if you can hear my prayer, please offer me a kind hand. The prayer rolled around in her head, spilling from her lips away from the safe confines in her mind, like a snapped string of pearls tumbling away never to be seen again. Something shifted beside her, causing her to press herself against the cold stone wall backing as far as she could from the noise. 
“I-Is someone there?” a male voice asked softly, she could taste the fear in the question. She nodded, though she was unsure if he had his sight taken like she had.
 “Yes, I am here. What is this place?” she responded, back still pressed firmly against the wall. 
Silence hung between them for a moment, both of them too terrified to acknowledge the fact that they didn’t know, the fact that they were on borrowed time. “Do you know where we are?” she pressed again, panic beginning to thrum in her veins. More silence followed. 
“What’s your name?” she asked suddenly, surprising even herself, it seemed like such a personal question - given the circumstances.  
“It’s uh…” he trailed off as if lost in thought, “I don’t remember,” he replied after a moment; he sounded sad. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dredge up anything painful,” she said, scooting closer towards him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “My name is Na-Mara,” she added softly.
“Na-Mara,” he repeated softly, “I like it - it suits you.”  There was a solemness that hung in the air, as if the entire place was steeped in pain and terror. She opened her mouth to speak again, to ask him if he knew anything about where they were, or who was keeping them here, the words had hardly formed on her lips before he was shushing her. 
“Sh! They are coming,” he hissed, she went to bite out a reply when shuffling came from her left, thudding boots upon creaking stairs sending her heart thrumming from her chest. The footsteps landed heavily on the stones, multiple by the sounds of it, all of them branching off in different directions. Clinking of bottles and creaking of opening crates, perhaps they were not here for her or her friend just simply gathering supplies before moving back upstairs.
There was silence for a few moments after that, then movement along her chains. She had opened her mouth to begin pleading with her captors when the air was taken from her lungs, being forcefully thrown over a strong shoulder. She wriggled and writhed in their muscular grip, though there was nothing she could do - he felt as though he was made from stone. 
They ascended the stairs again, the hinges of the cellar door groaning as it opened. The room they entered was well lit, though she couldn’t see the light, she could feel the warmth of the candles.
The world shifted around her once again as she felt solid ground beneath her feet, “Ah, there she is lads, isn’t she a beauty?” a hand gripped her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger to get a proper look at her. 
“Give me my sight back!” she hissed, though with the days without water, it came out hoarse and barely more than a whisper. 
There was a chorus of gruff laughter, it sounded as though it was coming from everywhere, “What was that? You’re going to have to speak up darlin’ -” 
A smooth voice cut him off, the air in the room changing as he spoke, “Come now gentlemen, surely you have something better to do than to terrorise my merchandise?” he asked, even though he wasn’t looking for an answer. Candlelight seared her eyes, her hand coming to shield them as the blackness ebbed away. She scanned the room, there were three men to her right, she assumed they were the ones who had brought her upstairs.   
The man in front of her - by all means - was attractive. Half of his wily chestnut hair was tied back in a bun, the rest hanging loosely over his shoulders, stopping at his mid chest. His eyes were a stunning shade of green, almost glowing in the light of the room. Long healed scars puckered the skin along his chin, cheek and eyebrow, though it did not distract from his beauty.
He stood a foot above her, enough to stare down at her as he began to speak “I apologise on their behalf, they are not used to handling such…pretty merchandise.”
She tried to keep her tone as even as she could, ignoring the hummingbird that had taken up home in her heart. Anger began to simmer in her veins, her temper getting the better of her before she had the chance to control herself, “You abduct me from my home, take my sight - which I don’t much appreciate by the way - and then you have the gall to call me merchandise?” She laughed incredulously.    
In that moment, as the tall form stalked around her, tracing the curve of her cheek with a softness unbefitting of what was to come. She pulled away from him, a grimace clear on her face. “Do not touch me,” she spat, venom dripping from each syllable. He merely stared down at her in response, a lightness in his eyes - he was amused. She swallowed thickly as it dawned on her, she was no longer the predator - she was the prey. 
She was moving before she could process it, running through hallways, blindly pushing her way through disgruntled patrons of whatever establishment this place was. She turned a sharp corner, colliding with a silver tray full of crystal glasses, the sound ear piercing as they shattered on the floor. Jagged shards sliced open the bottoms of her feet, causing her to cry out as she continued to run, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. 
“Run child, you cannot hide from me forever,” he called after her, the lilt in his voice sending fear coursing through her as he trailed her through the halls; like one would walk through a park with a lover. She pushed down the urge to cry out in fear, as she continued to rush down the long hallway. The hum of chatter broke the ever flowing stream of fearful thoughts, relief flooded her body, its soft warmth leading to a sigh of escaping her.  
“Please, someone help me! I am not meant to be here, please!” she cried, the patrons did nothing but stare at her for a moment before continuing on as if she didn’t exist. Her teeth ground together as she searched the room for an exit, she didn’t have much time before her captor would descend upon her. A door! Her thoughts cried out, she twisted and weaved through the patrons to cross the room, she could taste her liberation - it smelled of salt and petrichor. 
She pushed the door, the chill of the rain flooding around her. She had her freedom, only for it to be snatched away from her at the last moment. An arm wrapped around her middle, heaving her away from the door, away from her freedom. She struggled in his grip, kicking and twisting to escape the vice that only seemed to tighten. 
“Let go of me you beast!” she hissed, trying to jab her elbows into any soft flesh she could find. Her nails bit into his forearms hard enough for small droplets of blood to well on his skin, like rubies on a string. 
“Well aren’t you just adorable,” her captor chuckled, like she was a petulant child asking for a sweet before dinner - an inconvenience and nothing more. The room followed suit with laughter, she screamed in frustration, still kicking and twisting in his arms as he carried her back through the halls. 
“Please! I beg of you, let me go!” she begged, a broken gasp escaping her lips as he dropped her unceremoniously on the floor, the hardwood sending a jolt of pain up her spine. 
“You sound so pretty when you beg, pet.” he crouched in front of her, reaching out a finger to lift her chin to look at him, she bit down on the ring clad finger without hesitation, hard enough for his blood to flood her mouth. 
She wasn’t sure what came first, the crack of his knuckles connecting with her cheek, or the sting of her lip being crushed between her teeth. The crack reverberated through her body, both his and her own blood intermingled with saliva, dripping from her maw in long strings. She must have looked like a vicious animal. 
Good.  
She hissed at him, a guttural sound she didn’t even know she was capable of making, blood splattered across his face he recoiled from her. A silence hung in the air as they stared at each other, she glowered up at him as he stared down at her, hungrily. Her assailant lunged at her as she tried to shift away from him, trapping herself between him and the bed. His hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her forcefully to her feet, soft skin dimpled under the harshness of his grip. 
“Come now, love, surely we can enjoy each other’s company for a while?” he whispered, she could feel the hotness of his breath fanning out across her face, she shook her head.
“I want to go home,” she begged - if he could just see reason, perhaps he would let her go and she would be free to reunite with her family. Maybe he would find it in his heart to take pity on her, or see the error in his way, to see that what he was doing was wrong. 
His eyes darkened as he backed her against the bed. “You are not going anywhere. I am going to devour you, again and again, until there is nothing left of you,” he hummed into her ear, a nip punctuating the sentiment.
“Then I hope I rot in your stomach,” she gritted. If she was going to die, she might as well go out with a fight. 
He chuckled again, the sound off putting, sending her stomach heaving and twisting painfully. “Oh my dear, sweet girl, I’m going to have you wishing for death.” 
Fear enveloped her.
There was nothing more bitter than betrayal, but to be betrayed by one's own body was something else entirely. She couldn’t fight the feelings that washed over her, waves of pleasure lashing against her like waves upon a shoreline. How could she enjoy this? Why was her body doing this to her? She didn’t want this. Disgust had begun to take root in the pit of her stomach, making home within the darkest depths of her being. She just wanted it to stop.
Please Umberlee, if you can hear my plight, I beg of you. Please do something - anything, I will give you my flesh and bone as recompense, anything you ask of me and I will do it. Please, just make him stop.
There were no gods that answered her plea, nor did any passerby acknowledge her cries for help. All she could do was let fear consume her, to let it ravage her from the inside out. Like a wild animal clawing at the soft confines of her body, she was too soft, too young, but maybe this is what she deserved. Maybe this was her penance for her stupidity. She cuocooned herself within the confines of her own mind, residing herself to the fact that she would have to bury part of herself tonight, but on the morrow she would emerge changed.
A metamorphosis. 
She awoke to the cold darkness of the cellar again, though now she had been afforded the ability of her sight back. It was the very least that monster could do after what he did to her. Her skin rippled and hissed as though she had been set alight, pain encompassed her whole body in its shroud. She sat up with a groan, rubbing her eyes and trying to piece together what happened the previous night. 
She saw flashes, fingers tracing her skin, kisses that were all teeth and tongue, and pain, pain, pain. A sob wracked her body as she pulled the tattered linen of a dress she wasn’t sure how she got towards her mouth, desperately wishing to breathe life into it; desperately wishing for comfort. For her mother. 
Her mouth was dry and her lips were cracked, her tongue darted out to relive it only for her to realise that it was dried blood. He had struck her when she bit him, she recalled, touching he had to her cheek hissing from the tenderness. There was tightness around her throat that wasn’t present before, her hand instinctively came to rest on her neck to find a thin silver band around it. 
“Are you alright?” she jumped as that same gentle voice from the night before broke the silence in the cellar. She could see him now, a large red tiefling, his horns curling around his head in a regal crown, his hair was as white as fresh snow and his eyes as blue as the summer sky. 
Fresh tears bit the corners of her eyes, “A-ah, yes I am fine, do you know how long I’ve been sleeping for?” she asked, trying to change the subject. She just wanted to forget that the night prior ever happened. 
She could see him shrug slightly, eyes beginning to get used to the light once more. “You have only been returned to the cellar a few hours ago. But you were above for a day.” 
She scoffed in disbelief. A whole day? It only felt like hours. “Thank you for telling me, I do not remember being away for so long,” she apologised. It was a lie she wished that she could believe, she remembered more from that night than she wished. 
More silence hung between them, only their breaths, the near constant dripping coming from somewhere in the cellar and the low chatter coming from upstairs. 
Time seemed to pass differently in the cellar, perhaps it was the lack of natural light or the fact that she had been so thoroughly distraught from being plucked from her home. She had just begun to settle in again, eyes growing heavy, the little patch of hay feeling more comfortable by the second. 
Light spilled into the cellar from the opening door, sending her heart pounding once more, feeling the throbbing in her ears and fingertips. Fear prickled the base of her spine as heavy footfall came down the flimsy steps, making her way towards herself and her tiefling friend. For a brief moment she had hoped they were there for him, to take him up to do gods knows what - just anyone but her, she couldn’t bear it.
Once again her prayers fell on deaf ears as the man in front of her unlocked her chains and hoisted her to her feet. “Come on, get up,” he replied gruffly. She looked pleadingly towards her friend, or perhaps the better term was cellmate, his eyes suddenly finding the mason work far more interesting.  
The moment her feet touched the soft carpet, she was ushered onto a raised wooden stage, the thin tattered linen of the dress doing nothing to shield her from prying eyes. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he started, making a show of turning around and addressing the people in the room. “I would like to formally introduce you to our newest attraction. Our gorgeous little Selkie,” he hummed, lifting her chin with his thumb and forefinger to look him in the eyes. 
The delicate fabric of her dress was torn away from her, she gasped in shock, unsure of why she was now naked in front of all these people. She could do nothing but stare out into the crowd, looking at them with pleading eyes, her cheeks aflame with both fury and embarrassment. She had been abducted from her home, placed in shackles, sold into slavery and now stripped bare in front of a room full of people who now ogled her like some oddity - like she wasn’t real. 
Her captors arms snaked around her waist, inching towards the apex between her thighs. “Let go of me!” she hissed, trying to free herself from his iron grip. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly at her outburst, hand encircling around her throat hard enough to elicit a gasp from her. A choked cry fell from her lips as he placed more pressure, blackness beginning to dance at the edges of her eyes. “Please…” she wheezed. 
Air rushed back into her lungs with a gasp that tore through her, sending her stumbling forward a few steps as he released her, while the crowd murmured with various tones of approval. What kind of awful place is this? I just want to go home. She scanned the crowd again, looking for any sign of sympathy, any form of guiding light to lead her home. She turned to her captor again, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “Please,” she begged, “I just want to go home, please let me go home.”  
“You have no choice in the matter. I have your pelt - I own you,” he hummed, that ever present predatory glint in his eye catching the candlelight. Anger boiled in her stomach as she took a step towards him, her teeth bared in a hiss, he only raised his eyebrows at her before holding his hand up, stopping her in her tracks. A humming surrounded her, so overwhelming in its volume that it forced her to her knees with a surprised cry. Hushed voices circulated around the room, their eyes bulging and gawking at her, vaguely reminiscent of fish.  
“And look at that, a perfectly subservient Selkie,” he turned to face her again. “Now, was that so hard, pet?” he asked her, his tone indicating that he found her childlike - less than. 
“I hope you fucking rot!” she hissed, spitting in his face. A quickly hidden grimace crossed his features, his dark eyes clouding with something sinister. 
“Now, now, is that any way to speak to your betters?” his voice like poisoned honey, “I think I deserve an apology. What do you think ladies and gentlemen?” he was making a show of it, making a show of her. And whatever was to come, she had no choice but to take it.  
Another hum surged through the crowd, scrutinising eyes looking down their noses at her. He tapped his chin in mock thought, “I want you to beg, I want to hear those pretty lips beg for forgiveness.”
The air crackled around her, every bone in her body bent to his whim as she leant forward onto her forearms, head resting at his feet. The words came clawing up her throat and spilling from her mouth before she had the chance to force it down; they tasted sour on her tongue. “I am sorry,” she gritted her teeth, a desperate attempt to stop the words from pouring out. “Forgive me.” 
He clicked his tongue disapprovingly, “Hmm…I think that performance was a little lacklustre, shall we give it another go?” Every muscle in her body felt poised to strike, to launch at him and rip out his throat; and yet, she could not move, he would not let her move. She was still in that meek and mild position - the very picture of subservience. “Though this time, I would quite like for you to address me as master,” he added, she could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke. 
This time she could not stop the words that flowed from her, though they were words of subjugation, they were laced with vitriol. “I apologise, master - truly, from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry. Please forgive me.”    
They had hauled her back to her captors office after her stunt on stage, she had no doubt that her disobedience would be swiftly punished. The side door of the room opened, and her captor sauntered in with all the satisfaction of a cat who had dined on cream for dinner, a wide smirk across his face. Instinctively her shoulders moved upwards to her ears, if she could make herself small enough perhaps she would disappear into the fibres of the carpet beneath her.
He rounded his desk, leaning against the intricately carved wood, looking her up and down again, surveying the peaks and valleys of her body - it made her skin crawl. Without warning he began to speak, jolting out of her disgust, “I want you to work for me,” he stated simply, examining his cuticles as he spoke. 
She cut him off, taking a step forward as she shook her head. “No,” she started, steeling herself. “I will not do it, do with me what you will. I am as good as dead anyway,”
“You will work for me, you lure in patrons with that exquisite voice I know that you have. You will tend to every need that I may have and you will do whatever I ask of you,” she felt him tug on the invisible bond that connected her to him, a reminder that this was an order, not a suggestion. He sighed longingly, as if evaluating the situation. “In exchange I will give you everything you could ever want; gold, jewels -”
Desperation laced her voice, she was scared. “I want water, I need water.” She felt disgusted, she had to beg him for something as basic as water, her life’s blood - the thing that keeps her alive, she couldn’t help the shiver that ran up her spine.   
“You will find that given your rather precarious predicament,” he started, placing emphasis on the last two words. “That you won’t have a need for it, but as I am benevolent, you may have what you ask for. I will allow you to think it over, I shall await your answer on the morrow,” he replied, leaving her with her thoughts. 
That felt entirely too easy, she thought as she was ushered down the hall by one of the many servants he had bustling around his establishment. She couldn’t fight the sinking feeling in her stomach that screamed at her: You have made a deal with something worse than a devil, much, much worse. 
She had been pacing for hours at this point, eyes tracing the grain of the wood in the simple room she had been afforded. She needed to come up with a plan as she would not survive long if she kept going the way she was. They would keep her alive as long as she was useful, so she needed to find ways to continue doing so. She hadn’t had water in weeks and she was growing weaker by the hour, she wouldn’t last long like this.  
If she agreed to her captors terms then she would be forced into servitude, luring poor souls just like her into this monster's grip. But what choice did she have? The bastard had her pelt, she was already his slave.
She knocked on her door and stepped back, waiting for it to be opened from the other side. It cracked just enough for another elf to poke his head into the room with a sneer. “What do you want?” he snapped.
“Tell your bastard master I accept his terms,” she replied, returning his tone in kind, before the door was closed and locked once again. 
And so it begins. 
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gyarubloodbath · 1 month
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lolita
character: rindou haitani tw: graphic descriptions, tragedy, death. synopsis: rindo has a few temporary friends left — flies, bacteria, worms, beetles, wasps, larvae, parasites and moths. enjoy your meal.
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ᅠ wolfhart flies — meat flies — buzz loudly over a young but dead body, laying eggs around an open incision of the womb and natural openings: a mouth defiled by someone else's desire, pretending to be a "virtue"; a neat nose, along with dried snot mixed with blood, saturating sodomistic minds in large clots; eyes, previously bleeding crocodile tears, hardly stretched out along with the whimpering of the guy's hellish sore larynx; the virgin anus ring, which one of the fake priests could not reach under the "creation of фdam" of a dusty, but such a charming motel; a member standing with a stabbing erection in the morning in this holy cursed place, whose devils conjured with tarot cards and a magic ball taken from the most penniless gypsy woman without an eye and with a child in her arms; whose hands constantly stroked rindo in dreams, cared for in a way that mothers do not care about their children. these were the sweetest dreams of his entire stay at the motel, which took him like a thunderstorm and lightning to another "chestnut yard". during the day, a warm but inanimate corpse makes new friends: fly larvae hatch in all these places and glide over the organs, dancing, tearing off only a tasty morsel of such sweet, sinfully attractive, shooting a bullet in the forehead the same way as on that god's day. they cause miases of the whole body, which no longer cares. no one cares anymore.
the body swells from the accumulation of gases in the body, pressure increasing the amount of fluid from cells and blood vessels into the body cavity. bacteria swim rapidly in a bloody pool, breathe frequently (aerobically), multiply, only destroying (and not creating, as was laid down by the creator) tissues and cells, playing the role of the savior on the cross, but releasing liquids, — stigmatizing piercing.
with hooks in their mouths, young larvae tear apart tissues and spread bacteria, enzymes of digestive secretion. they are coming en masse, benefiting from communal heat and the general secret of digestion. a bottle of whole-body fragrance, including hydrogen sulfide, methane, cadaverine and putrescine, attracts the girlfriends of meat flies, beetles and mites, which are firmly and firmly absorbed into the flesh, sucking out all the remaining inanimate and rotting.
black cream, nauseating and fetid, remains to rot the meat of the whole body, enveloping the whole room with a smell, attracting worms and other insects from underground with a fictitious pheromone, rinsed in all the liquid that the soil absorbed, previously withered arteries.
like a white net, the pupae of parasitic wasps embrace the whole body so gently, in the rhythm of a waltz, twisting into their decadence — which has long come like snow in winter. eventually, at the fourth stage, the victim is released. several generations of larvae begin to bury themselves underground, wanting to become pupae. flying insects stay away, allowing predatory larvae to get enough.
oil fermentation. the dead man is flat and begins to dry out, the rest of the flesh is eaten, giving off a cheesy smell (not mozzarella with parmesan or even door blue and roquefort next door) caused by butyric acid, attracting more and more cadaverous gourmet organisms. they still can't get enough. there is almost nothing left of the body: meat, or rather its remains, is tough and it is not acceptable for small parasites with their hooks in their mouths to consume such. in their place come predatory beetles, whose eggs hatched during the stage of burying larvae in the soil. eating the previously delicate, silk-like skin, insect paws, with a slight tickle and scabies at the base of the neck, reach the ligaments, tearing them with the chewing cavity of the mouth.
eventually, the hair is eaten by moths and other microorganisms, which in turn feed on ticks. isn't that lovely!
"beauty does not last forever." that's what rindo always thought, while following his daily routine every day: starting with washing with professional facial foam and ending with cosmetic masks with lime patches under his eyes, giving the guy always such a fresh look, even if he looks discontentedly at the lustful faces of those who dared to think, guided by the ardent fantasy of elephantide, making him the main a hetaera somewhere in cyprus, surpassing even a greek writer.
ᅠthe dead will dance the polka, ᅠit means it 's the way it should be, ᅠif the coffin doesn 't hold you back, ᅠlet's dance till we drop. ᅠhave the muscles rotted along with the skin? ᅠthis is not a hindrance to us! ᅠlet 's rattle the bones all the same, ᅠfor fun and for laughter! ᅠwho were you — what 's the deal? ᅠthe poor, the beggars, the poets, ᅠthe song of death sang
ᅠᅠthe skeletons will dance their dance.
when the boy cries, large tears drip onto the open wound of his red knees, salt seeps into the very depths — which makes alcohol better and more pleasant — and it stings, corrodes, does not allow him to breathe calmly, bringing to hysteria the hidden souls buried somewhere deep inside. inviolability and purity, the beauty of age, tenderness and such genuine love, angelic, given by god and taken away by him on the day of judgment — god's judgment at the gunpoint of satan, soon flying like a bullet into lilith's maternal embrace. ᅠ
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loveyourownsmiilee · 2 years
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Oliver Stark’s Tattoo Guide Part 1
Here’s a quick guide to all the tattoos Oliver has. This is for anyone who wants to see what they are and the placements of all his tattoos as of recent 😏
Arms
A majority of Oliver’s tattoos are scattered around his arms. The only one we never get to visibly see is his wrist tattoo because he himself has mentioned how much he hates it. But starting from his right arm…
We have his wrist tattoo which can be a quote or some kind of symbol. Because he always gets it covered for the show and has mentioned he doesn’t like it, we don’t have any clear photos of what it is.
Then we have a cute doodle on the inside of his forearm. I have no clue as to what it actually is but it’s a fine line tattoo for sure.
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The infamous two bands that circle his forearm. They don’t have any actual meaning. He just thought they’d be cool to have so he got two bands wrapped around his forearm.
Then he has a skull behind his right bicep that they cover for the show.
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On his upper right shoulder, almost by his collarbone, he has the word Hordearii tattooed. He got that as his first tattoo dedicated to his veganism. He got that along with the four X’s we see on his ribs. Hordearii actually translates to “barely men” which was what Gladiator’s were referred to. Gladiators were known to have their own gladiator diet, which was mainly vegetarian, consisting of wheat, barely, and beans. It goes hand in hand with Oliver’s veganism. He got it along with the XXXX. The XXXX on his ribs, is to symbolize the 40,000 animals killed every second to put food on human's plates. These two tattoos are in honor of his veganism.
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On his left arm, he has a couple more tattoos. On his shoulder he has a symbol that is the number 3 with a tiny x on top. I don’t know exactly what that’s supposed to represent honestly. He’s never really talked about it.
If you take a look at the previous two photos, you can see he has another small doodle on the inside of his left forearm. I personally think it looks like a hand holding a lasso/fishing net but I could be wrong. Open to interpretation lol.
On the inside of his left bicep, he has the null sign (∅).
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Then he has the infamous Michaelangelo quote on his left forearm. The quote is “I saw the Angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.” He’s stated in an early interview how he dislikes that tattoo because he hates the font and thinks it’s too big. He got it when he was a bit younger.
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His newest tattoos are also on his left arm! He recently got two new tattoos while he was in London. One tattoo is of two beautiful flowers and the other is of a burnt candle. They are both flash tattoos and the flowers are from the artist’s Virgo collection and the burnt candle from her Sagittarius collection. They represent those Astrological Signs.
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He also got a beautiful, delicate hummingbird on his left shoulder. You can see the bones of the hummingbird and I just find it really nice. It seems to be very on brand for the kind of tattoos he likes.
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Then he got another flash tattoo on his left forearm from the artist’s Taurus collection which appears to be a woman with two horns and some flowers in the middle of the horns. This is essentially a bull, which is what the sign of Taurus represents.
As you can see, he got 2 more tattoos on his left forearm while he was in London. The outside of the forearm is the woman with horns. Meanwhile the inside of his forearm seems to be another piece that is similar to the burnt candle. It is in a triangle but we don’t have any picture of what is inside it or what Astrological Sign it represents.
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Chest & Ribs
Oliver has a few on his chest/ribs. I’ve already mentioned the XXXX above.
On his right upper chest, he has this intricate geometric tattoo, which includes of a circle, triangle, and square intertwined together.
He also has the anatomical heart inside the head on his lower left rib. It’s honestly my personal favorite tattoo! I believe it means that he usually thinks with his heart instead of his brain. He’s talked about this in an early interview.
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Legs
Finally, Oliver has two tattoos on his legs. The first one is on his left calf and it’s a quote that says, "But, my friend, you have not killed me just yet..." This one is very much a hidden gem because a lot of people don’t really know about it. The lettering is very small and he barely shows it off.
His newest tattoo is on his right upper thigh, which says AMOR FATI. That translates to “Love of fate” or “Love of one’s fate.”
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I will say he got 5 tattoos while he was in London and we don’t have pictures of what the other 2 look like for sure. So unfortunately this isn’t complete because he does have plans to get some more in the very near future! I will update with part 2 when we get some better pictures of what they look like, along with any new ones he gets!! 💜
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