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astrojulia · 1 year

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Super Detailed Pick a Pile: Everything about your soulmate

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DISCLAIMER. These general free readings are made in good faith for entertainment purposes. I tried my best to leave it gender neutral, but one word or another might have escaped (Portuguese is a language where all words have gender). Also, this post is a remake of a old post of mine.

Warnings: +18 content

Hello Siren!

The Soulmate PAC is an old post of mine from another tumblr, so I wanted to remake this. This pick a pile was inspired by my full soulmate reading with you can purchase here as Sirens and Pirates, but this PAC is smaller than a SnP. It is a general reading, so pick what resonates. Each pile was made with a different tarot and was used 66 card per pile.

How to choose a pile

When you have different cards to choose from in pile 1,2,3… look at each of those cards. Wait until someone reminds you of a memory. Perhaps a character’s outfit resembles one of your own. It is this pile that has its message. What if they all remind me of something? Go for the one with the strongest memory, one might look like her earring but another might be the favorite candy you got from your grandma when you vacationed at her house. But what if none reminds me of something? Take a deep breath and wait a little longer, without charging yourself or creating worries. Relax, some will awaken some memory in you, I promise! .

Open the image for better quality!

Pile 1 - So this is Love

To find a compatible partner, one must let go of the past and embrace new opportunities for love. Feeling betrayed and exhausted by past experiences, individuals often retreat into a self-imposed cocoon, avoiding further romantic entanglements. Some even convince themselves that love is not meant for them, focusing on other aspects of their lives. However, deep down, they yearn for a loving partnership and dream of finding a soul mate. It is essential for them to regain faith in love, as that is when it will manifest itself.

This person will possess an exotic allure, standing out in a predominantly white environment if you live in one, or appearing Asian in a predominantly black community, and so on. They will exhibit distinctively masculine features, and if you are attracted to men, they will maintain a well-groomed full beard. Their physique will be muscular, possibly bearing scars from past conflicts. Despite their actual age, their appearance might suggest a weathered and tired countenance. They exude an air of confidence and vibrancy, always seeming to know their direction. Their posture is upright and correct, with a preference for looking straight ahead rather than sideways. When engaging in conversation, they make direct eye contact, conveying the need for face-to-face interaction. Symbolic tattoos, usually discreet in size, may adorn their body—a relic from their youth, which they have come to accept. Their hair color tends to lean towards shades of brown and red.

This person is naturally seductive and charismatic, a born leader who is sociable, diligent, focused, and selfless. They possess intelligence and have nurtured dreams and clear goals since childhood. They likely aspired to a particular profession from an early age, devoting extra time to study during high school to pass entrance exams for their desired schools and colleges. Due to financial constraints within their family, they started working at a young age to fulfill their desires beyond the essentials. Consequently, they appear fatigued at times, but their relentless work ethic remains unwavering. They admire hardworking individuals, especially those who hold them in high regard. Though they have experienced numerous relationships, ranging from serious commitments to fleeting encounters, they currently prefer to avoid emotional involvement, except with the right person.

You may encounter this individual at unexpected moments: perhaps attending the funeral of a distant relative, neighbor, or coworker; during a minor street accident resulting in minor vehicle damage; dropping a beverage from their hand (often on a beach); while visiting a theme park like Disney; at a job promotion celebration; or attending a lecture on physical or mental health.

You will enter into a serious relationship after 8 weeks of getting to know each other, primarily during the spring and summer seasons.

They will treat you as the love of their life, someone who gives their existence purpose. Each day, their love for you will grow, expressed through affectionate words and small gestures. Despite this, you may sense a certain barrier between you, and even with all their declarations of love, you may not feel entirely secure. However, addressing this issue relates to your own self-esteem. Even though they deeply love you, they will still value their own individuality and require personal space. They will involve you in their activities, making choices for dates that cater to your preferences, and they will strive to give you gifts that truly please you. They will enjoy carrying you and playfully tickling you. They will appreciate your body as a masterpiece and, over time, being vulnerable and exposed before you will feel natural, without any shame, as they demonstrate their profound love for you.

What captivates you most about them is their resilience in overcoming numerous challenges without losing their essence, despite the cruelty they may have faced. You will be among the few who understand the reasons behind their chosen path—a path driven by both pain and love. For instance, they may be an oncologist due to the loss of both parents to cancer or a bricklayer due to their past experience with homelessness. They are exceptionally genuine, preferring to confront the truth and accept its consequences rather than resorting to repeated lies. They treat everyone they encounter as equals, greeting all with kindness. They likely possess fluency in three languages. Although they possess great strength, they openly express their emotions, unashamed to shed tears if they identify as a man.

One aspect that may challenge your acceptance is their proclivity for swearing. You may often feel bewildered around them, as they may not take the time to explain things for your comprehension—it is your responsibility to manage your own understanding. When angry, they may speak in another language to avoid upsetting you, as they may scold you during such moments. They prefer communication through written messages, meaning you may never hear their voice if you're physically distant. They may struggle to measure their words, often unintentionally causing you pain. Additionally, they tend to speak rapidly, causing you to feel overwhelmed or lost.

They will teach you to cultivate kindness towards others, to genuinely love people without expecting anything in return. They will show you that you don't have to depend on others to attain your desires, emphasizing your complete independence and worthiness of receiving what you seek. They will inspire an entrepreneurial spirit within you and reinforce the belief that you deserve boundless love.

They enjoy teaching you one of their languages, particularly their native tongue. Couples therapy or visits to a psychologist/therapist are activities they appreciate. They are diligent about reminding you to schedule doctor appointments and even notify you when it's been a year since your last dental check-up. They also take pleasure in watching drama series or engaging in educational content, such as medical or science-related shows.

They admire your ability to rely on intuition when making decisions. Your strong familial bonds resonate with them, and if you have children, they will always express that you are the best parent in the world, crediting you with creating such a wonderful family. They appreciate your idealistic perspective on life, even if it occasionally diverges from realism. They value your commitment to fairness and your desire to contribute to society by helping others as much as possible.

When you're feeling down, they shower you with "silly" messages, including affectionate words, memes, and short funny videos featuring adorable animals. They provide calming medicine or any other assistance you need, respecting your choices and existing medical treatments. They indulge in small gestures like buying candies, chocolates, or trinkets. They also understand the importance of giving you space for introspection and solitude.

They envision a lifelong partnership with you, even until death separates you. They see both of you evolving together and dream of passing away side by side or in close succession, as they cannot fathom a moment of their existence without you. They perceive your relationship as an incredible partnership where mutual support endures in every possible aspect, forever.

They tend to be more dominant, taking pleasure in generating ideas and planning for the future. They enjoy assuming a leadership role and having precise knowledge of long-term plans, often organizing and exerting control in various aspects of their lives.

While they possess a forgiving nature, they have a strong memory and never truly forget the hurtful words or actions directed at them. They strive to avoid crossing dangerous boundaries that may inflict further pain. Similarly, they may feel inclined to comment on past mistakes you've made, but they understand it is not right to do so. They will pretend that nothing happened and that it doesn't bother them, but in reality, it does. When they are angry or when a conflict arises, they prefer to disengage and walk away, avoiding involvement in such confrontations.

They are deeply grateful for all the gestures you do for them, and they show their appreciation through actions rather than words. They consider themselves the luckiest person in the world to have you by their side, and they always strive to reciprocate by going above and beyond. For example, if you make them a coffee, they will prepare dinner for you.

They maintain a high level of honesty with you, sharing the events and experiences that have shaped their life since you met. However, they tend to avoid discussing their past, as they feel more protected by focusing on the present and future. They prioritize sharing relevant information and memories that have left a lasting impact. If you inquire about something that happened at their workplace and they haven't mentioned it, they may simply state that they didn't notice or didn't consider it important to discuss. They only speak about what they deem necessary and tend to avoid indulging in gossip or trivial matters.

While they may adjust certain habits you find displeasing, their core essence remains unchanged. Their life goals and dreams are not influenced by external factors.

They have a possessive streak and can experience jealousy, considering you as theirs. However, they place a great deal of faith in you and firmly believe in your loyalty. They take pride in showcasing you like a trophy and may become uncomfortable when others get too close.

When it comes to kissing, they engage in playful banter and tend to use a lot of tongue. They enjoy sharing laughter during these moments. They appreciate both long, passionate kisses that leave them breathless and the tender stolen kiss of a first encounter. While they possess a good understanding of kissing techniques, it doesn't guarantee that every kiss will be the best of your life, as some moments can be a bit awkward.

To express their affection for you, they often demonstrate it by giving you something you expressed a strong need or desire for. If they are not skilled in a particular craft, they may purchase a valuable item like a perfume you mentioned wanting. However, if their profession allows, such as being a woodworker, they might create a bookcase that you mentioned needing. This is how they initially convey their growing feelings for you.

They express a strong desire to get married, viewing it as a way to solidify the relationship and eliminate any competition. Marriage provides a sense of security for them, ensuring that they don't have to worry about losing you to someone else. They particularly value a civil marriage, as it allows for a name change, and they would be delighted if you choose to adopt their last name. Their proposal will be serious and formal, perhaps even appearing as if something tragic has happened. They also express an inclination towards a religious wedding, especially if they are Catholic. If you agree, the ceremony will take place in a church with a large number of guests.

Here are some nicknames they might affectionately call you: spitfire, princess, queen, sleeper, traitor, apple, star, jack of all trades.

When they start falling in love, they prefer to first discuss the relationship with their family. Until they gain their family's approval, they are hesitant to discuss the relationship with others. Their family's endorsement is crucial for them to move forward, and during this time, only you will be aware of their feelings. Once they have their family's support, they proudly introduce you to everyone. They enjoy picking you up from work or wherever they are, using the opportunity to show that they are with you. When people mention you, they respond with a silly laugh and proudly say, "Yeah, I'm dating them." They express their affection in a loving and respectful manner, not overly clingy but seeking physical contact and affection.

They prefer to engage in small displays of affection in public, such as holding hands and giving light kisses. They do not feel the need to showcase their intimate life, as they consider it a more private matter. However, they find it exciting when you flirt with them in public, building anticipation until you're alone together. They have no qualms about you wearing clothing that highlights your body; they see it as normal and don't feel embarrassed.

They possess culinary skills and are self-sufficient in the kitchen. They also excel at negotiation and can secure discounts when making purchases. They make a point to greet people they encounter and can communicate with individuals you may not be able to due to their proficiency in multiple languages.

They enjoy making love promises, expressing their deep love for you and emphasizing your importance in their life. However, they won't do this excessively, as they are rational and prefer not to repeat themselves. They derive great pleasure from surprises, both big and small. Traveling is one of their greatest passions, and they may express a desire to have a romantic getaway with you in Venice. They are likely to send you frequent short messages expressing their fondness for you, rather than constantly repeating the same declarations of love.

They assist you in making difficult decisions by presenting the pros and cons of each option. Moreover, they actively seek out opportunities for you, stepping in to help if you're unemployed. However, they never do your job for you; instead, they offer support and assistance when needed, such as helping you with a project or task.

Participating in social events, parties, and gatherings is important to them, and it contributes to their satisfaction with the relationship routine. If they are unable to go out, party, or even have a gathering at home, they may become quite upset. They also enjoy friendly competition with you, finding joy in games that have a winner, which adds excitement to their daily routine.

They aren't particularly sensitive to others' pain. If you're upset and crying, they may inquire if there's a way to solve the problem. If there isn't, they might question why you're crying excessively. They are observant and can discern your emotional state, but if your day is bad, they won't repeatedly ask how you're doing. They tend to address the matter once and then move on, not inclined to give multiple chances. If you express your desires or feelings to them, they will understand and make an effort to accommodate you. However, if you don't communicate openly, they may be aware that something is amiss but won't take action. They value direct communication.

While they consider the relationship to be a source of strength and comfort, it doesn't hinder them from pursuing their personal goals and aspirations. They view the relationship as a partnership built on trust and mutual respect. They would loathe giving up their job to live a confined life for any reason. They highly value their freedom.

They have triumphed in various battles and competitions, perhaps winning sports competitions during their high school years. However, what truly stands out to them in life is the resilience they developed from experiencing hunger and homelessness.

Physical touch isn't their preferred means of showing affection. Instead, they opt for brief, light touches to remind you of their presence. They aren't inclined towards strong hugs or prolonged clinginess. They express their affection through frequent texting (yes, they enjoy texting), engaging in late-night conversations, and, as you mentioned, through sexual intimacy.

When they miss you, they tend to eat a lot and may also indulge in adult content as a means of "relieving" their longing. Additionally, they may find solace in activities such as gardening or building something while you're away. At work, they may work overtime when they know you won't be around.

If you happen to have to work elsewhere and be separated from them, they would patiently wait for you to return, even if it takes up to seven years. They wouldn't change their current location if it's where they want to be, but if you needed to go far away, they would eagerly await your return. They firmly believe that love is something that is nurtured and built upon, and they are committed to building something meaningful with you every single day, regardless of the circumstances.

Pile 2 - Kiss the girl

Your soul mate does not reside where you currently live. They are from another state or even a different country. Your nationalities are vastly diverse, and that is why you will only encounter them once you venture beyond your familiar surroundings. You will cross paths with them when you undergo a profound transformation that reshapes your foundations, prompting you to start afresh and pursue the dreams you have harbored. Even then, despite any challenges or setbacks, you persevere and meticulously plan for a new beginning. It is in this juncture of rebuilding and expansion that you will find your soul mate. Alternatively, they may enter your life after a significant and positive transformation, when your long-cherished aspirations finally materialize, and you begin charting new paths to build upon your achievements. Another possibility is that you will encounter them when embarking on a new journey following a setback or a momentous victory.

Physically, they possess a well-defined and sturdy bone structure. Their body naturally carries a certain weight, and their features exhibit a square shape. Their skin tone is naturally dark, which may be attributed to their race or a sun-kissed complexion. They radiate a lively and dynamic aura, constantly in search of their true love. When you two meet, it will feel as if you have found your missing half. They will bear a resemblance to their ancestors and may have a distinctive accent. They prefer to dress in dress shirts, lightweight attire, and coats. Despite being dynamic and fun-loving, their posture tends to be closed and serious, as if their mind is open while their body remains guarded.

Spirituality holds significant importance for them. They have a profound sense of a life mission and feel a calling that drives them to tap into their inner power. They are deeply devoted, not to a specific entity, but to making the world a better place. They possess unwavering faith in humanity and strive to uplift it. In everyday life, they maintain a certain level of reserve and mystery. They do not easily reveal their true selves or allow others to feel too close and comfortable around them, as they cherish their personal space. They are dreamers who long for the next generation to surpass the current one, both in terms of personal growth and global betterment. Family holds immense significance to them, and they carry the lessons and values imparted by their own lineage. Consequently, they aspire to create their own family and pass down those intergenerational teachings.

You may cross paths with your soul mate in various settings: at a waterfall, within an orphanage, school, or children's establishment, during a business meeting, at a volunteer-driven Thanksgiving gathering, in a marketplace, at a street fair, or even under a sky adorned with rainbows. It will be a relationship in which neither of you needs to explicitly ask if it is serious or not. You will naturally come together without uttering the words "Will you date me?" After approximately eight weeks of getting to know each other, you will seamlessly transition into being lovers without the need for verbal confirmation. It will simply be an unspoken understanding between you both.

They are a very romantic individual, albeit a bit awkward. It seems that there's always something getting in their way due to their natural clumsiness. For example, they might buy a bouquet of flowers, but somehow manage to get it wet. Despite these quirks, they are deeply passionate and faithfully devoted to you. They perceive you as a flame, something that can both provide warmth and comfort, yet also have the potential to hurt and destroy. As a result, they both admire and fear your immense power. They often recognize your capabilities even when you may not see them yourself. They also have a strong sexual nature and view it as an essential aspect of the relationship. They have various desires and kinks, and they envision exploring them with you. While they see you as an equal, they also feel a need to protect you. You may notice that they instinctively position themselves in front of you, acting as a shield, especially when you're out in public or among strangers.

One of their most endearing qualities is their generosity. They don't consider money when it comes to buying things for you. If you ask for something, they will purchase it for you, especially if they have the means to do so. Even if they are wealthy, they won't hesitate to buy whatever brings you joy, regardless of the price. They also have a deep love for their work and are highly dedicated to it. They are constantly seeking ways to improve and make changes in their professional life, always planning for the future. Their physical appearance is important to them, and they take great care to maintain a clean and groomed appearance, including regular haircuts, showers, and clean nails. You find their beauty captivating, and you are particularly drawn to their romantic nature. Even when you try to play hard to get, you can't resist their declarations of love.

However, you may struggle to fully accept that they have experienced happiness with others in the past. Even if you have a stable relationship, you may find yourself comparing yourself to their previous partners and feeling inadequate because you didn't have the opportunity to share those moments with them. They may also have family connections or privileges that you envy, such as being from an influential family or inheriting generations of secrets and traditions. Furthermore, they may have greater financial stability than you, which can make you feel as though you constantly have to work hard for everything while they effortlessly thrive. While your family may readily accept them, their family may not be as accepting of you.

They will teach you the importance of staying true to yourself, even during the most challenging times. They will encourage you to remain faithful to both people and your beliefs, and to never lose faith. They will inspire you to cultivate strength in all aspects of your life, including your mental and physical well-being. They will help you learn to love and accept yourself as you truly are, embracing your flaws and working on self-improvement while breaking free from any psychological constraints you may have developed over time.

If you practice divination, they will be your most frequent client. They are willing to pay for your services but also genuinely value the insights you provide. They enjoy engaging in religious and mystical activities with you, whether it's attending church or participating in a witches' congregation. They also have an affinity for aquariums and may even desire to have a fish that you can care for together or enjoy going fishing as a shared activity. They particularly relish engaging in more challenging sexual positions. Sometimes, they find pleasure in simply gazing at you, admiring your presence, especially when you're immersed in something you enjoy.

They admire the way you bring humor and fun into serious moments, even when maintaining a more serious posture. Your sarcasm holds a special appeal to them. They also appreciate how you take charge of situations, confidently asserting yourself and becoming a commanding presence in times of high stress. You lead when things seem dire and dark, but once they improve, you pass the leadership role to someone else. They admire your personal history and achievements, often considering your accomplishments to be unimaginable for anyone else. They enjoy witnessing moments when you proudly share your successes and enthusiastically discuss your past or future plans. Your constant dreaming and pursuit of fulfilling your desires resonate with them. They also appreciate your inclination to help others, whether through your profession or in your daily interactions.

When you're feeling down, they are quick to make tea or prepare a remedy passed down from their mother, who seemingly has a cure for every kind of pain. In more serious situations, they have the car keys in hand, ready to take you to the doctor or hospital if necessary. They are willing to engage in conversations to understand if you're facing psychological or emotional challenges, offering support. If it appears that you require professional assistance, they will accompany you and ensure you receive the necessary help, even if it means spending the entire day at appointments.

They envision a future where you excel in your chosen field, or at the very least, gain significant recognition. They are always eager to learn something new and plan to take courses well into their 70s. They will encourage you to join them on this learning journey. They aspire to become an exceptional teacher or mentor in their field, and as they near the end of their life, their primary desire is to impart knowledge and educate others. They hope that you will either teach alongside them or attend all their classes. They also express a strong desire to have children, and the number of children they envision having depends entirely on your preference. Whether it's one, two, three, four, or more, the decision is ultimately yours. They see the two of you remaining youthful at heart, always striving to bring joy to the world in some way.

Their dominant or passive nature tends to fluctuate depending on the situation. Sometimes, they have no strong opinions and allow you to take charge entirely, while in other instances, they may argue their perspective and strive to do things their way. However, they are skilled at making you believe that they are doing what you want, when in reality, it was their plan all along. They are not inclined to use verbal aggression or engage in direct confrontation. Instead, they persistently pursue their own interests until they achieve their desired outcome.

Occasionally, they can experience outbursts of anger, saying and doing things that are uncharacteristic of their usual nature. They may bring up past mistakes and faults, casting you as a bad person. These moments of anger typically last for a brief period, perhaps one or two minutes, before they regain control and retreat. They often apologize swiftly after such episodes. It's worth noting that they may get over the issue quickly while you're still upset. Over time, they will engage in fewer fights, but in the initial stages of the relationship, there may be some heated arguments.

They have a significant ego, which leads them to hesitate when it comes to expressing gratitude towards you. However, deep down, they truly appreciate you. They may express gratitude if you initiate it first, and it must always be reciprocal. If you haven't praised them on a given day, they won't praise you either. Nevertheless, they genuinely value your presence and believe that you have brought immense happiness into their life. Particularly if you have children together, they will take great pride in being a parent and become extremely protective, especially if they have daughters. They are aware of everything you do for them and feel grateful, but don't expect constant reminders from them.

They tend to share their secrets only once everything is planned and in motion. They will confide in you about their plans after they have already made the necessary preparations. They may seek emotional support from you or, if you happen to be someone who practices divination, they may inquire about what the future holds. However, they are reserved by nature and prefer not to divulge everything. They believe in maintaining individuality, as knowing every detail about each other's lives can diminish the sense of excitement and mystery.

Their connection with spirituality and their mother has changed since they met you. Perhaps they didn't have a strong bond with their mother before, but with you in their life, they now view her differently. They have also become more romantic and affectionate in general, influenced by your presence. They are willing to make rational changes in various aspects of their life, such as changing colleges if they are dissatisfied, but when it comes to emotional matters and personal convictions, they are more resistant to change. While you have altered their worldview to some extent, not all aspects have undergone transformation.

Jealousy is not a significant issue for them when it comes to you. If you have children, they may feel more protective of the kids rather than being jealous of you. They appreciate your free-spirited nature, recognizing that children don't have the same level of freedom. If they do happen to experience jealousy, they might engage in activities related to the sea as a means of coping. For example, they may take you out to eat seafood, either because you enjoy it or as a way for them to destress.

Communication is more important to them than physical affection. They are skilled in the art of seduction but don't expect movie-style kisses every time. They enjoy giving you kisses, but they tend to be more gentle and playful rather than deep and intense. They take pleasure in teasing you until you're the one who initiates the kiss. It's possible that your first kiss could happen in a movie theater or as a result of their playful teasing.

To confess their love, they would recreate the most romantic scenes from a movie. They are the type to present you with a bouquet of roses, or perhaps strawberry and chocolate ones, along with a box of chocolates and a heartfelt love letter. They have a fondness for writing letters, and it's possible that they have written many letters about you, even if they were never sent.

Marriage is something they contemplate. Although they may have believed for a long time that it wasn't necessary, at some point, they will change their mind and desire to get married. Perhaps if one of you becomes pregnant, you'll both feel the urge to prepare for marriage before the baby is born. The proposal may be a simple moment of sitting on the couch, looking into each other's eyes, and asking, "Is it time to get married?" with both of you agreeing and proceeding to plan the wedding. They would prefer to have a family member officiate the ceremony, and the location is not as important to them, but they will invite a large number of guests.

During intimate moments, they use various affectionate nicknames that I cannot explicitly mention here. However, in non-sexual contexts, they may call you treasure, queen, mermaid, jewel, lioness, warrior, gladiator, gypsy, or hippie.

They have a tendency to gaze at you with longing, as if they can't take their eyes off you, even though they might deny it. They may avert their gaze, but it's apparent that they are watching you. Others may notice this because they can't stop looking at you—it's their way of showing their affection. They also enjoy assisting with physically demanding tasks that involve heavy lifting, as it allows them to showcase their strength for you. However, they may not explicitly confess their love for you.

They are not inclined to display affection openly, as they believe you could stay at home where no one else can see you. They are reserved when it comes to showing public displays of affection and prefer to keep such moments private.

They know how to take care of children, and for some reason, kids tend to get along well with them. It may seem like the children prefer them over you. They possess knowledge about condoms; that's all I have to say on the matter. They are also highly creative and full of energy, often waking up early and encouraging you to start the day early as well. They are an early bird.

In everyday life, they aren't particularly romantic, and you may even find them to be a bit distant at times. They express romantic gestures when they feel like it, and if they don't feel the inclination, they won't engage in such acts. However, they are quite generous when it comes to allowing you to sleep, especially if you enjoy it. They will let you stay in bed for as long as you need. They also enjoy taking short walks at night or going out for dinner.

They are the person who believes in your dreams and goals the most. When you feel tired or discouraged, they will be the one to uplift your spirits. If you hold meetings, they want to be involved, even if they aren't an employee. They are also quite helpful with accounting, writing, and every strategic aspect of your plans.

They appreciate routine and knowing what's happening on a daily basis. However, they also enjoy a bit of mystery and occasional surprises. They need to go out and do something together at least once a month, whether it's visiting a museum, going to a park, or watching a movie. The activity may vary, but they prioritize spending quality time together at least once a month.

They have a knack for learning secrets and staying informed about gossip, even more than they let on. That's why they may know a lot about you from your mother or other people, rather than directly from your own mouth. They might be the type to say, "Yes, your mother already told me that." They are attentive to your material needs, such as knowing when you'll have your period and ensuring you have an ample supply of pads. However, they may not be as attuned to your emotional needs, so you'll need to communicate with them about that.

They view being by your side as a great opportunity. They appreciate that you allocate some of your precious time to them, and they cherish those moments. They understand that they are a part of your life but not the entirety of it, and that's why they have immense respect for you. They see the relationship as an avenue for self-expression and an opportunity to open up with someone they can trust.

They tried to grow out their hair when they were younger, but it didn't work out for them. They also experimented with dyeing their hair, but that didn't work either. They have experienced being dumped multiple times, although they keep that information to themselves.

When it comes to displaying affection, they are a very discreet person. They prefer to show their affection when you're alone together, leaning against you and finding opportunities to have their hand somewhere, particularly on your thigh while driving. They have a fondness for your hair, and if you ask, they will gladly help comb it.

When you're apart or when they miss you, they have a tendency to travel somewhere else or spend time at their mother's house, and perhaps even yours.

They are the type of person who would be willing to change their religion for you, but they would not compromise their core beliefs and convictions. There are many things that they hold steadfastly to. They would also be open to changing countries if necessary.

Pile 3 - Someday My Prince Will Come

It's important for you to take a break from actively seeking your true love and soul mate. Instead, familiarize yourself with the "Law of Attraction" and understand that constantly imagining and wishing for their arrival won't necessarily make it happen. By fixating on finding them, you only increase your anxiety and stress. It's crucial to focus on your own life, pursue activities and interests unrelated to romantic pursuits, explore different subjects, engage with people from diverse backgrounds, and patiently wait for the right moment to come.

They exude a youthful and energetic aura, often appearing younger than their actual age. They have a playful and childlike nature. Their expressive mouth and nose tend to catch attention. Their fashion sense may be considered unconventional or quirky, but they embrace it. From the moment you meet, you'll feel drawn to them and desire closeness.

They are a free-spirited individual who relishes in traveling, meeting new people, trying new activities, and embarking on adventures. They have a penchant for dating but haven't experienced a lasting relationship yet. At first glance, they may resemble a charming prince, but they are not. They are not inherently bad, but they greatly value their freedom.

You may encounter them in various situations such as street fights, workplace conflicts, store quarrels, while shopping for sports or camping gear, or during competitions at work or school, as well as in team-building activities or camping trips.

Your relationship with them is likely to commence in early spring or during the month of March.

They will experience jealousy towards you and won't appreciate others getting involved with you. In the beginning, they may not take the relationship seriously, leading them to go out with you and other people simultaneously. For them, if the relationship isn't official, they don't feel the need for commitment. They aren't inclined to share their belongings freely. You will find that you have contrasting opinions on many matters, and they will frequently express fear of being betrayed. They harbor significant insecurities regarding love.

You'll particularly appreciate their appearance and presence in bed. It's undeniable. Additionally, you're drawn to their ability to construct and deconstruct things, persisting and remaking projects if needed. If they were a draftsman, you could envision their room filled with crumpled and torn papers as they persistently try again. They're a source of constant surprises, always revealing something new and unexpected when you least anticipate it.

However, you'll struggle to come to terms with the fact that they likely cheated on you early in the relationship, an experience that will linger in your memory. You'll also find yourself waiting for hours when you make plans together because they're always late. During challenging times, you'll often feel a sense of loneliness, as their support may not meet your expectations.

On the other hand, they will teach you the importance of self-love and valuing yourself. They'll guide you in nurturing your beauty and femininity, and they'll encourage you to be independent and proactive rather than relying on others. They'll remind you that you hold responsibilities for many aspects of your life and the people around you. They'll inspire faith and respect for your own cycles. They'll help you tap into your productivity and creativity.

They enjoy going out to eat with you or simply relaxing at home without any worries. They appreciate working together in group settings, be it in a professional environment, volunteering, or academia. They find pleasure in building furniture and engaging in crafting activities alongside you. They also enjoy going shopping with you.

They hold deep admiration for your diligent work ethic and your ability to manage your finances. They appreciate your dedication and unwavering conviction in pursuing your goals with passion. They notice how you radiate youthfulness, simplicity, and innocence despite the complexity of life. Your vibrant and joyful energy leaves a lasting impression.

When you're not feeling well, they typically give you some space to reflect and gather your thoughts. If there's a way for them to offer assistance, they'll show care and attentiveness, albeit maintaining a slight distance while being present during challenging times.

They envision a future filled with ups and downs, challenges, and difficulties. Despite the potential hurdles, both of you are working together and supporting one another to overcome obstacles and make things work. They have a belief in fate, trusting that whatever is meant to happen will unfold naturally, so they don't worry too much about the future. They have a sense of being protected in the future, as if things will work out fine no matter what, desiring a happy future but not dwelling on it.

They have a chaotic nature, which means they may try to dominate if not controlled, but if you can establish control, they become more passive. They enjoy venturing into new experiences but won't complain if you take the initiative to plan activities. In fact, they appreciate it as it helps them relax.

They easily forgive and forget, leaving the past behind as another story. They are focused on living in the present, addressing issues as they arise, and moving on. During conflicts, they remain quiet and observe, asking at the end, "Done? Did you calm down?"

They are deeply grateful for your help and acknowledge that you have made them wiser and more patient. They recognize the impact you've had on their personal growth and maturity, and they aim to reciprocate this favor in the future. As the years go by, they will be increasingly present in your life. Initially, relating to each other may be challenging, but this relationship is a joint construction between the two of you.

They will openly share every aspect of their life with you. Initially, it may be frustrating because they lack a filter, unaware of what should or shouldn't be said. Consequently, they express the whole truth in an abrupt and direct manner. Over time, they will improve their communication skills and become more mindful of their words. They will refrain from making fun of your haircut, even if they don't particularly like it. They will learn to adapt and be more considerate.

Through the course of your relationship, both of you will undergo significant personal growth, often catalyzed by painful experiences. You will confront fears and traumas together, making efforts to heal and overcome them. It will be a journey of discovering and addressing problems and traumas as a team.

They experience jealousy and tend to express it in a passive-aggressive manner. Instead of directly communicating their feelings, they try to make you understand through subtle actions and distancing themselves when jealous.

Their kisses are often romantic, characterized by a slow and passionate exchange. They prefer to savor the moment and engage in unhurried experiences. During these intimate times, they desire to fully immerse themselves in the present. The first kiss between you two might occur while under the influence of alcohol, with neither of you remembering the details.

They might express their affection for you after spending a night together, usually when they are tired and sleepy. However, they won't repeat what they said the next day, nor will they deny it. They will carry on as if nothing happened. They will only confess their feelings after you have already expressed your liking for them; they are too insecure to be the first to say "I love you."

In a spontaneous moment following a fight, they may propose marriage as a way to reconcile. This proposal will be impulsive and unfiltered, happening on the spot. While it's not their dream scenario, they view it as a compromise. They envision a simple and intimate wedding, perhaps in a country setting or on a beach, with close family and a few acquaintances. They prefer a wedding that is comfortable and unpretentious. You may also have the tradition of throwing rice at the newlyweds after the ceremony.

Some nicknames they might affectionately call you include: treasure, empress, devil, baby, baby girl/boy, sweetie, and nervous.

When they are interested in someone, they tend to talk to others to seek assistance in getting closer to you. They are unafraid to flirt openly and shamelessly. However, if you are oblivious to their advances, you may not notice their flirtatious behavior. To demonstrate their affection, they enjoy attending music shows and purchasing items together. Music plays a significant role in their life, and their most prized possessions could be musical instruments or CDs.

They are straightforward when it comes to relationships and may even suggest an open relationship. They act on their desires whenever they feel the impulse, regardless of the context. If they want to kiss you in front of your parents, they will do so without hesitation. They dislike conventional norms and are attracted to unconventional aspects in relationships. They enjoy taking risks.

Having worked as a bartender in the past, they possess knowledge of crafting various drinks. They also have a keen intuition and can often sense events before they occur. They feel a strong spiritual protection, which makes them believe that even in the face of a fatal accident, they will survive. They are self-aware and acknowledge both their positive and negative aspects. Additionally, they have a knack for detecting lies.

They have a great belief in you and dream even bigger than you do, sometimes to the point of being overly idealistic. For example, if you mention wanting to buy a house, they might question why you don't desire a mansion. Emotionally, they provide support and discuss dreams and desires. They may even pray for those dreams to come true. However, when it comes to taking action, they may claim not to know how to fulfill those desires if you ask them to do something.

They have a tendency to provoke small conflicts in order to add spice to the relationship, finding excitement in the act of arguing (especially if they are a man). Most of the time, their routine remains unchanged, as they are naturally chaotic. However, their actions become predictable over time, and their behavior can become mundane. They have a strong need for social interaction and value having a circle of friends. They also have a desire to have a pet in the home.

They possess a great deal of empathy and can often explain your emotions even before you fully comprehend them yourself. They have a deep understanding of the emotional realm and are not afraid of diving into this domain. They will express their emotions while also comprehending yours. In times of uncertainty, they provide valuable assistance by helping you discover what truly brings you happiness. They can also recognize your facial expressions, even if you try to conceal your intentions.

The relationship you share is something they desired and patiently awaited, a wish that has now come true. They lead a faith-driven life, praying and seeking assistance when in need, without strictly adhering to religious dogma. Nevertheless, their prayers have been answered, and having this relationship was one of those answered prayers. Despite occasionally placing the relationship in the background, it remains one of their pillars and a source of security. They are not inclined to take an active role in the relationship because they believe that everything is always fine. Therefore, if you have any issues or dislikes, it is important for you to be proactive and express what you don't like, along with the best way to address it. Otherwise, things may remain the same because no one knows how to bring about the necessary changes.

They are very fond of games and casinos, having spent a significant amount of money on them, including video game loot boxes. It's possible they may have developed an addiction to these activities. They have a history of cheating in games and possess extensive knowledge of cheating methods to secure victories.

In terms of displaying affection, they have a particular fondness for food. When they are extremely happy, they enjoy feeding you or sharing food with you. They have expectations for reciprocation, meaning if they show you affection, they anticipate receiving something in return. They also take pleasure in twirling your hair between their fingers and touching your hair and/or head. Additionally, they have a tendency to give small trinkets and beauty products as gifts.

When they miss you or when you need to be away for a while, they often question what they did wrong to contribute to the situation. They blame themselves for any distance between you, even if it's due to work commitments. This self-blame may lead to insomnia and excessive rumination. They may isolate themselves and prefer not to spend time with others.

Despite their childlike nature, they would go to great lengths for you. While they may not go as far as cutting off a limb, they would be willing to donate a kidney for you. They would even quit drinking if you asked them to. In summary, they would do anything to earn your acceptance and make you happy.

(CC) AstroJulia Some Rights Reserved

#astrojulia #astrology #witchblr #astroblr #all about astrology #astro community #astro observations #astrology notes #witch community #astrology basics #pac #pick a pile #pick a card #divination #free reading #love reading #future spouse reading #soulmate reading

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cuntycheol · 10 months

Text

To You :)

Happy Birthday Seungcheol!!!

WC: 744 words. We must protect this man :(

Hand in hand, you sat comfortably on the couch with your beloved baby Kkuma, and your husband, Seungcheol. Time usually races to midnight, but when you're eagerly awaiting its passage, it seems to drag. Nonetheless, you embrace the virtue of patience and immerse yourselves back into the movie that both of you had been thoroughly enjoying. The silence and occasional glances to the clock from Seungcheol made it evident he's anticipating something. It's hard for him to remain discreet about something he's excited for, or he's eagerly waiting. However, you pause the movie because of how boring the plot gets, and switch off the TV. "Kkuma's asleep, so is my leg" you whine. Seungcheol grabs her and lays her comfortable on her bed, while you slowly get up and get in the kitchen.

"Where to?" He inquires, voice deepening with the amount of seriousness in his tone. "Oh just for some water. I'll be quick" you take out a bottle from the fridge. He stands for a while, as you glance his figure from the corner of your eye, hoping he goes in the room. Soon he does, and you quickly take out your prepared cake, with the candles and lit it. Unable to control your ecstacy, you hold your gift, and party caps, and slowly get in the room. Seungcheol, who was seated on the bed with a huge pout, legs crossed by the ankles, immediately lightens up in a huge, huge smile.

"Happy birthday Husband! Looks like another year of putting up with me is in the books" you chuckle. He laughs a little, and you proceed to sing him a birthday song. Kkuma who tends to be awaken by slight disturbance, rushes into the room and jumps onto her dad's lap. You put the cap on his head, and take some pictures to capture this simple moment. Calm has always been the aesthetic of the two of you.

"Well, they say practice makes perfect. Thanks for giving me so much practice then! But seriously, I wouldn't have it any other way. Thank you so much, love" he pulls you on the bed, and blows on the candle. You rip out a piece from the corner and feed it to the birthday boy himself and he swipes a fluffy peak of cream on your lips to help himself on the sugar rush. He couldn't be more happier.

You pull out the gift you've prepared for him; the perfect watch for a man who holds luxury. "Hopefully you'll keep track of time when you're late" you sneer. He holds the watch in his hands and thanks you, "oh darling I have all the time" and you share a chuckle. Smiling, you look in his eyes and ask him, "what did your dad call your grandfather?" He looks at you, confused but proceeds to tilt his head and say "well he'd call him dad or father"

"And what did you call your dad?"

"Tch, Aunty" he scoffs "ofcourse dad"

"And what if someone else calls you dad?" You ask, your heart now racing in your chest.

"Honey, who would call me da-" he stops mid sentence, to look you. He raises his eyebrows, surprise all over his face. You finally take out the ultrasound sonogram and hand it to your surprised husband. He puts Kkuma on the bed and gets up, pacing back and forward in the room, texting his friends in his groupchat, absolutely frenzy with happiness.

"I'm going to be a dad? Me? Father? Oh my god" he picks you up and twirls you around. "Oh my- Cheol stop I'll fall!!" Laughter filling the room, he's on the moon right now. Nothing could bring him down from his peak of excitement.

"Thankyou so much for giving me the BEST gift ever" he slowly gets teary-eyed, hands on your belly as he hugs you from behind. You hold his hands, feeling every inch of his warmth onto you.

"You know how you're always worried about being late? Well, get ready to be 'late' for diaper changes and feeding times"

"Wait, are you saying we're starting a new trend of fashionable lateness?"

"Exactly! Our little one is going to set the trend for parents who arrive fashionably late to everything."

"I guess I'll have to update my wardrobe to match our baby's schedule then!" Seungcheol laughs. Safe to say your child will have the best parents in the world, and quite an interesting father.

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Thankyou for reading this and giving so much love to my fic!!

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jacevelaryonswife · 1 year

Text

ㅤㅤ Kiss me at sunset

How dangerous must it be for a little thing as lovely as you to wish were between a dragon's claws?

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

tags: kissing and flirting, also, english is not my first language

Prince Aemond is a polite man who does not often sneak into the shadows of the Red Keep corridors to listen to female whispers. However, when his name was mentioned by a beautiful voice he didn't do much to avoid paying attention to the subject you and another lady shared. The formidable rider of Vhagar knew that listening to uninvited conversations was incorrect and inconvenient, and that his curiosity could lead him to overhear something he didn't want, but none of that was enough to make him back down. And then, the opposite of the unwanted happened when you said your next words:

“If I could choose a husband, it would be Prince Aemond. He is handsome, tall and mysterious, in addition to being a great swordsman. I would like to have his children, beautiful children with silver hair and violet eyes, just like their father.”

“But he's so closed off and somber, I mean, he hardly ever smiles or courtes the other ladies,” your friend, Lady Roselyn, said with brief awkwardness.

“I think that's part of his charm. Mysterious and inaccessible. And I must say that I am not displeased with the fact that he does not court other ladies, it keeps my hopes up that one day I will be able to kiss him at sunset.” Your smile widened at the thought, rolling your body this way and that like an enchanted damsel.

"You talk like you're in love with him." She nudged you playfully with her hip, making your glow increase. Yes, she was right, or almost. He was a breathtaking figure, so male, intimidating and deadly.

"Maybe." Yes I am.

Indeed, the prince was not seen smiling or fraternizing with others, yet what was wrong with fantasizing a little?

Unfortunately, you couldn't take the initiative to approach Aemond, or even attempt a brief conversation — better avoided than made a fool of. But your heart squeezed by such weakness and cowardice, he will escape! (you thought). It was almost excruciating to hope to sow tiny grains of love with him, but pleasantly dreaming and daydreaming about scenarios in which the prince held your body tenderly and kissed you passionately didn't hurt.

And they certainly didn't hurt him.

The attention of the ladies was not entirely unusual, though most showed apathy and a certain indifference, Aemond noticed bold and curious looks in his direction — the same ones that Aegon received with constancy. But nothing as bold as his recent speech. You, such a lovely lady… really lovely. A satisfied and almost proud smile was displayed by the one-eyed prince as he returned to his original path. How dangerous must it be for a little thing as lovely as you to wish were between a dragon's claws?

From that day forward, nothing remained the same.

No other lady had ever held his attention like this, so desperate for his love and affection that it filled him with a strange, almost ghostly, unfamiliar feeling: to be appreciated. It was good. So good.

In fact, everything changed after that day. You were used to sneaking glances at the prince, but it was a surprise when he was looking back. Oh. Your heart skipped a beat, mouth opening slightly before looking away and looking again, just seeing the smirk Aemond sent your way. By the seven! Your smile wasn't discreet or restrained, almost too wide to betray your joy. What would he think? It was outrageous behavior.

But he loved your reaction. Oh, how he loved it. Such a sweet lady. And for his victory, that wasn't the only time Vhagar's rider met your gaze with a crooked smile. Aemond was not a man for half actions, if he wanted something he would have it. But he enjoyed playing with you. Seeing your sweet smile and sparkling — almost sassy — eyes was a real treat. He needed more. He needed everything you genuinely wanted to offer. He wanted you.

So when your beauty silhouette lit up the training yard, he almost let a fierce smile slip through his face before engaging Sir Criston Cole. It took everything in the one-eye prince not to be distracted by your image so tempting, not even a glance directed in your direction, he wanted to win and he wanted to win fast to be able to execute what he had been planning for some time.

“I don’t give a shit about torneys… my lady, can I accompany you on a walk?”

Seven heavens. Was he… was he… was he talking to you? It can not be. Did he invite you on a tour? In the middle of everyone? You? Did he invite you?

Your eyes widened more than usual, mouth nearly open as he reached out and nodded. You feared for what you might say by allowing yourself to speak, but the Mother is kind and has graced you with just one: "Yes, my prince, I would love to." You didn't know how you kept your feet when Aemond reached out for your hand to encircle the soft leather that hid his worked biceps. Curious gazes followed your figures as you both walked away from the courtyard. Your hand was trembling over him, waiting intently for what he would say next — he had to say something, didn't he?

“It's a pleasant day, don't you think, my lady?” he asked, watching your lower figure over his good eye.

“Indeed. I… you’re a great swordsman, my prince”, your voice was soft and nervous as you looked at him anxiously. He was handsome. So, so handsome.

“A man must know how to handle his sword, my lady.” He's not sure if the phrase's double meaning was intentional, but it slipped your mind — at least that's what you wanted him to think.

It was a terrifying sin where your mind took the phrase. His sword… by the Mother!

“But thank you for the compliment,” he said.

“You’re welcome, but you who flatter me with your company, my prince. Are we going somewhere specific?” You ventured into saying a longer sentence and even questioning him, feeling less insecure.

“To a beautiful place, my lady, just like you.” The smile displayed by him almost made you weak in the knees, almost needing to lean on his shoulder and almost making your lips touch...

“My prince… do you think I'm beautiful?”, you asked with an extra flutter of eyelashes, breath failing a little.

Aemond smirked as he felt the grip on his forearm and lowered his gaze before saying, “A truly beautiful and lovely lady.”

Your head was spinning in euphoria, utterly inert in the cloud of seduction the prince exuded towards you. How was it possible? Was he being genuine? Were you misinterpreting? Fuck — you didn't regret thinking that ugly word when you allowed yourself to speak your mind.

“I also find you lovely my prince. If I don't dare say it, I think you’re the handsome man at court. So handsome."

Aemond's smile only widened as he clenched his left fist, needing to feel your skin against his palm. A totally adorable and needy little thing. Spontaneous, charming... he had so many adjectives to designate you.

“Your words grace me, my lady, mm.”

Eyes seemed to follow you along the way, surprised by the unprecedented scene of the one-eye prince with a lady suspended on his arm. It was the high point of the day for the curious whisperers that roamed the Red Keep. Crossing the corridors and arriving at a point where the beautiful orange sky could be better contemplated without interruption, Aemond immediately rested his hand against your waist, the grip not going unnoticed by you. Oh gods, how you wanted him. It was totally indecent and inappropriate how your legs tingled from the heat of the dragon beside you.

“A beautiful view, as I promised,” he said, stopping beside you.

Indeed, a beautiful view. You heart was pounding every second, not knowing what to say. Should you thank him?

He wasn't as patient in waiting for your answer, cornering you with his words: "A beautiful view for a sunset kiss."

Your eyes widened, turning immediately to face him. He knew… how? “My prince… Roselyn told you?” How dare she?

“No, my lady, it was just a hunch,” he replied vaguely, smiling at your reaction. His eye hovered over your pretty lips, his hand snaking around your waist as he moved impossibly close. He could feel your warm, ragged breaths, your eyes meeting his pink, desiring lips before crashing them down hungrily. You kissed him fervently and let your hands roam your prince's hair and shoulders. Your mind was still on the intoxicating moment, totally given over to the hands firm and almost unkind against your hips and waist, given over to the warm lips that crashed fiercely against yours.

You fought equally in the kiss, as needy as he was by the smoldering passion that threatened to surround your futures. It was indecent how you two indulged in something intimate in a public place where anyone could see. But he didn't care, not anymore. Not now that you would be his, only his to claim.

“ñuhon,” he said breathlessly, teeth clenching, “mine.”

Indeed, you were his. Just his.

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond one eye #aemond oneshot #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #prince aemond

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hsjazebel · 10 days

Text

MEETING IN THE SHADOWS

Word count: 2582

A/n: This is the first part of a new series,I hope you like it!

Summary: Y/n, tired of her family and of spending her days in a golden cage, walking through the streets of the city is captured by the light of a sign.

main masterlist | ink hearts masterlist

Y/n observes the majestic family villa bitterly as it approaches, her heart clenching at the coldness emanating from every corner.

High stone walls surround the residence like a fortress, isolating it from the outside world and imprisoning its inhabitants in a world of privilege and convention.

The sumptuous rooms, decorated with antique furniture and expensive artwork, feel more like a museum than a place to live. However, behind the facade of opulence and wealth, lies a void that no amount of glitz can fill.

Y/n's relationship with her family is like a cracked crystal vase, fragile and destined to break.

Elegant dinners turn into shows of hypocrisy, where tight smiles hide the abyss of contempt that separates family members.

Y/n sits at the table, looking at her parents and hee elder brother, but she feels more distant from them than ever. Their superficial talk and snide remarks are like blades cutting through her soul.

Even among the crowd of servants carrying out their tasks with impeccable precision, she feels alone.

They are just puppets in the hands of her family, following every order without ever daring to look up or say a word out of place.

Although they are always present, their presence is only physical, devoid of human warmth or compassion.

Walking through the hallways adorned with trophies and expensive artwork, Y/n wonders if she'll ever find a sense of belonging in that place. Her rebellious emotions clash with the coldness of the polished marbles and opulent curtains.

This is not a refuge, but a gilded prison where she is trapped by her own desires for freedom and a family she cannot understand.

As she takes refuge in her room, the only oasis of tranquility in that abode of opulence, Y/n lets go of tears that she keeps relegated behind a mask of indifference.

It is here, within the walls that know her deepest secrets, that she finds brief relief from the constant tension that pervades the rest of the house.

She longs to escape from that world of facades and conventions, but every attempt is suffocated by the expectations and social conventions that imprison her. The idea of breaking the silence and shouting her truth to her world seems like a distant dream, an impracticable desire.

Thus, Y/n remains a prisoner in that gilded cage, desperately searching for a glimmer of hope in the darkness that surrounds her, hoping one day to find the strength to break free and find her way to a true and authentic life.

She grew up in an environment where appearances matter more than anything else.

Her father, a successful businessman, has always imposed strict rules and expectations on the family. Each member must follow a precise protocol of behavior and maintain a certain standard of social prestige.

The family must be flawless in the eyes of the outside world, no matter the cost.

Her elder brother, designated heir to the family empire, was educated from an early age to take over the reins of the company.

The weight of expectations on him is tangible, and the relationship between him and Y/n has become increasingly distant over the years. The rare conversations between them are always filled with tension and rivalry, fueled by the constant pressure to live up to their father's expectations.

Even her mother, although more reserved and discreet than her husband, contributes to keeping family standards intact. She has always played the role of devoted wife and loving mother, but behind her gentle smile lies a dissatisfied woman suffocated by social conventions.

The expectations weighing on Y/n are overwhelming. She must be impeccable in everything she does: impeccable in education, in conduct, in appearance.

She must attend the best schools, socialize with the right people and prepare for a future of success and prestige.

But inside, Y/n feels a constant sense of rebellion, a voice that whispers that there's more to life than her family wants her to believe.

The weight of these expectations is felt every day, squeezing her heart with an ever tighter grip.

Y/n wonders if she will ever be able to break free from this gilded cage, find the courage to follow her heart and live the life she truly wants.

Despite the constant pressure weighing on her, Y/n desperately searches for a sense of belonging within her family. She dreams of being accepted and loved for who she truly is, beyond expectations and appearances.

However, any attempt to get closer to her parents or brother is greeted with coldness and detachment.

The rare occasions when she attempts to express her wishes or opinions are promptly rejected or ignored. Her voice seems lost in the empty echo of the corridors of the villa, suffocated by the weight of family traditions and social conventions.

Even if she tries to maintain a facade of indifference, the desire for freedom and authenticity burns inside her.

The lack of understanding and support from her family has shaped Y/n's personality, making her secretive and elusive.

She has learned to hide her emotions behind her mask of indifference, seeking refuge in her room and in her deepest thoughts.

However, despite hee loneliness and her sense of strangeness, Y/n continues to hope for a different future.

She dreams of finding the strength to free herself from the chains of family expectations and follow her heart towards a true and authentic life.

It is this desire of hers that pushes her to resist, to look for a glimmer of hope in the darkness that surrounds her, even when it seems that all is lost.

As time passes, Y/n realizes that true freedom cannot be found within the walls of the family mansion, but only beyond the confines of her known world.

She is determined to find the courage to face the future with confidence and determination, even if it means defying the expectations and conventions that have shaped her life thus far.

A haunting memory surfaces in Y/n's mind, like a shadow that follows her wherever she goes.

It was a cold winter morning, when the frost wrapped the villa like a cloak of sadness.

Y/n had just turned sixteen, an age that should have been celebrated with joy and happiness, but for her that day had become a nightmare.

Her family had thrown a lavish party to celebrate her birthday, but the joy of the event was quickly overshadowed by a heated argument between her father and mother. Their screams had pierced the freezing air, filling the room with tension and pent-up anger.

Y/n was hiding behind a heavy curtain, tears silently streaming down her cheeks as she listened to their arguments.

She felt like a prisoner trapped in a gilded cage, forced to suffer the conflict that poisoned her family.

When the fight was finally over, Y/n ran into her room and locked herself, seeking refuge in solitude and silence.

It was that day that she had sworn to herself to find the strength to free herself from the gilded cage of her family, to find her voice and her freedom, even if it meant facing the pain and uncertainty of the outside world.

That moment of family conflict remained imprinted in his memory like an open wound, a constant testimony to his desire for freedom and independence. And though time might heal her wounds, the memory of that day continued to burn within her, fueling the fire of her determination to find her way in the world.

——

Y/n feels trapped in the family's sumptuous villa, surrounded by a sense of emptiness and inadequacy.

The oppressive expectations of her parents and the tense atmosphere that permeates every corner of her home suffocate her, preventing her from expressing her true essence.

One evening, during one of the usual elegant dinners organized by the family, Y/n finds herself at the center of an acrimonious confrontation between her father and her older brother.

Her sharp words and raised tones fill the air, echoing in her mind like a constant rumble of desperation.

Feeling invisible and insignificant in the face of family turmoil, Y/n suddenly decides to flee.

Without thinking twice, she hurries out of the villa, eager to find a moment of peace and solitude away from the expectations and conflicts of her family.

As she walks along the streets illuminated by the dim light of the lanterns, the sound of her steps is lost in the din of the sleeping city. The night breeze gently caresses her face, bringing with it a sense of freedom and adventure that Y/n had never felt before.

Immersed in her thoughts, Y/n lets herself be guided through the city's winding streets, without a specific destination in mind.

It's only when she finds herself in a dark, deserted alley that the sound of a needle tapping against her skin draws her in like a magnetic pull.

Curious to find out where the sound is coming from, she Y/n ventures into the alley, following the sound to a tattoo studio hidden in the shadows.

The windows are darkened by heavy curtains, but the soft lights coming from inside reveal an intimate and welcoming atmosphere.

With her heart pounding in anticipation, Y/n pushes open the door and enters the study. That's where she sees him for the first time: the tattoo artist.

His figure is shrouded in shadow, illuminated only by the dim light of the candles dancing in the air. His skin is adorned with intricate designs and vibrant colors, and his eyes shine with an intensity that immediately catches Y/n's attention.

For a moment, their eyes meet in silence, creating an atmosphere full of tension and promise. It's as if time stops, and Y/n suddenly feels transported to a whole new world, where anything is possible and every dream can come true.

"Can I help you?" he asks abruptly, the tone of his voice slightly grumpy.

Y/n suddenly feels uncomfortable under her piercing gaze. "I'm sorry if I bothered you," she replies quickly, trying to avoid his intense gaze. “I just… saw the light on and thought I'd come by.”

The tattoo artist doesn't seem particularly interested in her explanation. "Okay," he mutters simply, returning to his work with a look of irritation.

Y/n hesitates for a moment, unsure of what to do.

She feels as if she has been caught in a private moment and she doesn't want to disturb it further.

However, her curiosity overcomes her discomfort and she slowly approaches the counter, looking with interest at the drawings and artwork adorning the studio's walls.

The tattoo artist, meanwhile, continues to work with determination and concentration, completely ignoring Y/n's presence. But when a customer enters the studio, the tattoo artist becomes visibly irritated by the distraction, shooting a withering look at the newcomer.

Y/n finds herself observing the scene with interest, intrigued by the tattoo artist's reaction. It's as if the tattoo artist's every movement, every expression is shrouded in an aura of mystery and charm, and Y/n feels like there's so much more behind her grumpy facade.

After the client leaves the studio, a brief moment of silence falls between Y/n and the tattoo artist. The air is tense, but Y/n tries hard to maintain her resolve.

Determined to find a way to get closer to the tattoo artist, Y/n breaks the silence. "Sorry for interrupting you earlier," she begins, trying to sound more confident than she feels. "I was fascinated by your works, they are incredible."

The tattoo artist looks up from her work and looks at Y/n with an inquiring look. "Thank you," he replies shortly, his voice slightly distant from her.

Despite the tattoo artist's coldness, Y/n doesn't give up easily. “How did you start getting tattoos?” she asks, hoping to gain some insight into her life and passions.

The tattoo artist only gives a light snort before answering. "It's been a long road," he admits vaguely, returning his focus to her work.

Despite the tense atmosphere, Y/n decides to persevere.

She feels attracted by the mystery that surrounds the tattoo artist, even if his coldness makes her uncomfortable.

"I imagine you've met a lot of interesting people along the way," she suggests, trying to dig deeper.

The tattoo artist barely raises an eyebrow at her, looking at her with a scrutinizing gaze. "Not many worth mentioning," he replies sharply, his tone clearly conveying his reluctance to share more.

Despite his grumpy reaction, Y/n doesn't give up. She tries to get more information out of her, but the tattoo artist seems intent on keeping her secret.

As the evening progresses, Y/n begins to feel frustrated. She would really like to understand what lies behind that mask of indifference, but the tattoo artist seems intent on keeping her at a distance.

Despite this, Y/n struggles to keep the conversation going, hoping that the tattoo artist can open up a little more.

However, every attempt seems to be coldly and disinterestedly rejected on her part.

Even with his dislike of her, Y/n finds it difficult to ignore the attraction she feels towards the tattoo artist.

There is something in him that fascinates her, something inexplicable and irresistible that pushes her to continue despite his resistance.

As the evening draws to a close, Y/n is tormented by a mixture of emotions.

She would like to understand the tattoo artist better, she would like to know his world and find out what lies behind her detached attitude.

But for now, all she can do is say goodbye to him.

Despite her efforts, she was unable to penetrate the armor he erected around himself.

As she walks out the door, she feels the weight of disappointment on her shoulders.

The cold of the night welcomes her outside the study, enveloping her in a grip of silence and solitude. She walks slowly down the sidewalk, the rustle of her footsteps echoing in the void of the night.

In the darkness, a shadow moves behind her, unnoticed. Something in her instinct makes her turn her head, but when she turns around, no one is there. Her heart beats faster in her chest as she quickens her pace.

As she walks away from the tattoo artist's studio, Y/n gets the strangest feeling that she's being watched, as if someone is following her in the dark. She tries to push back the feeling of unease rising in her throat, but she can't completely shake it off.

Then, when she is already far from the studio, a flash of light cuts through the darkness, causing a sign to shimmer right above her head. “Ink Hearts,” reads the sign, with glowing letters dancing in the darkness.

Y/n stops suddenly, surprised that she hadn't noticed the sign before.

“Ink Hearts,” she repeats softly, feeling something familiar yet shrouded in mystery.

What's behind that name, she wonders, and what does its meaning hide?

With a shiver down her spine, Y/n realizes that her adventure has just begun.

There is something magical and fascinating in this luminous sign, something that irremediably attracts her.

And as she walks away into the night, the promise of Ink Hearts shines like a star in the dark sky, guiding her to a future full of mystery and possibility.

Tag list: @ell0ra-br3kk3r

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles blog #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #ink hearts

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shesjustanothergeek · 11 months

Text

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Twenty

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Hey, besties. Sorry for the late update. I was in my head second guessing everything and just not doing good. I just needed a small break away from the story for a few days. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you for your kind words and patience.

Chapter Warnings: Old rich white men, Ser Crispin Cole being a douche.

"To capture a predator, you can't remain the prey.

You have to become an equal in every way." -

Karliene, Become the Beast.

By the grace of the Gods, you awoke before your maids. The thick sheets were torn away from your body and wrapped around a sleeping form, their lips parted and squished together against a soft pillow. You tied the strings of your nightgown together as you slowly snuck out of bed, peeking your head through your chamber doors to ensure the guard was still asleep.

Aegon looked ethereal, with strands of his white hair draped across his porcelain face. The swarthy circles that seemed permanently stained underneath his eyes had lessened, a youthful flush dusting across the tops of his cheeks. It seemed sinful to wake him when he appeared so peaceful, relaxed, and almost happy.

You rolled back into your place in bed, bringing a hand to Aegon's temple, gently brushing back his silver locks. You heard his sharp intake of breath, his brows raising slightly before you met his sleep-laced eyes.

"Good morn, Prince Aegon," you greeted with a smile. "It seems you've had a restful night's sleep." He nodded lazily, turning on his back as he stretched. "I have enjoyed your presence here, my Prince, but you must understand the impropriety of it and my wish for discreetness," you expressed, straight to the point.

A frown tugged on Aegon's perfectly pink lips, rubbing the sleep from his expression to hide it. A pang of sympathy radiated in your chest, maneuvering your body closer to him as you draped an arm over his torso.

It was an odd sentiment, and you couldn't help but feel a slight apprehension gnawing at the back of your mind. You hadn't meant to initiate comfort. Truthfully, it wasn't something that needed doing, but as you saw the disappointment on Aegon's countenance, your body went faster than your sense.

You convinced yourself that it was just another process in the plan.

"We shall meet for a walk in the gardens on the morrow," you offered, trailing your finger across the Aegon's bare skin. "Will that appease my spoiled prince while I am tending to my duties?"

You discerned the pet name was something he adored and tucked that into your mental arsenal-a trick you had picked up from the Rogue Prince.

"What duties do you tend to?" Aegon scoffed, the blush on his cheeks not unnoticed as he abruptly rose from the bed into a seated position.

You weren't insulted by his childishness as you should have been. Instead, you found it rather endearing, proud that you were winning him over after just one night, a grin threatening to split your lips.

"Tis bastardly duties, nothing to concern the eldest son of the King," you jested, crawling behind and wrapping your arms around him.

You pressed your face into the cool meat of his back, enjoying the heavy musk of sex and wine that wafted there. His skin was so soft against yours, and the sudden urge to bury your nose within him was strong. The emotion caught you unaware, momentarily tensing against Aegon as you prayed he didn't notice.

"Ugh," the Prince sneered, moving his hands to grip your own harshly. "I hate it when you are called that. You don't deserve such a name."

You felt yourself honestly smiling at his words, with no ulterior motive or arrogance behind it.

"What else am I to be called then? By my name? Surely, such a common thing is no match for the honorary title bastard brings," you poked, attempting to remove your arms from his white-knuckling grip.

Aegon brought your hands to his lips, kissing the back of them in a tender gesture that caused unwanted butterflies. "And that is more than enough, little one," he said.

Aegon allowed you to release him, standing to gather his discarded clothes across your chambers.

The sun was not close to rising, the hour of the owl upon you and leaving plenty of time to return to a peaceful slumber before dealing with the exhausting politicking of the day. How people were willing to do this baffled you, but you supposed the final product was worth it.

"I shall see you this evening, then?" Aegon asked, his violet eyes wide and hopeful.

You felt that emotion of regret already forming but steeled yourself and nodded sincerely, throwing him an encouraging smile from beneath your thick lashes. "Yes, my Prince."

He clapped his hands giddily like a boy who had found a tray of sweets ripe for the taking as he bounded to the door with an unusual spring to his step. Aegon tossed you a cheeky wink and smiled, blowing a kiss before he finally left your chambers.

Tucking the covers underneath your chin, you let out a shaky exaggerated breath. You hadn't realized how easy it was to slip into the role of Aegon's lover, forgetting every wrong he committed. The words of comfort were not as difficult to say as anticipated, and the intensity you felt while saying them unnerved you.

There was some truth in your statements, however. You were cross with Aegon for accepting the gift of those two women and how you saw them retreating to his chambers that night, but it wasn't your place to tell him what he should do. You feared that attempting to curb Aegon's appetites so early would cause him to recoil and hinder your intended progress.

Later, when the Prince was wholly smitten with you, you would forbid him from such lecherous acts, but until then, it would be a delicate process of biting your tongue and letting him take whatever he wished.

***

Sleep did not come to you as hoped. The remaining hours of darkness were spent inside your raging head, planning what to say at the Council meeting, wondering when you would receive another letter from your Father and Ser Dalton Greyjoy, and hoping Jace and your mother would send word too.

Your maids couldn't hide their surprise when they saw you reclining on the green chaise beside the fireplace, a book in your hands. They brought a tray with slices of ham, bread, fruits, and a cup of morning tea to break your fast. Jeyne went to your wardrobe as normal, and Diana and Fiora made your bed. None of them greeted you like the past as you cut through a piece of food, skepticism and anxiety gnawing your insides as the food settled.

"Jeyne," you called, crossing your arms over your chest. "What time is the Council meeting today?"

She briefly paused, rummaging through your closet but quickly returned to it as if nothing happened, laying your dresses for the day out. You swallowed your last sip of tea, setting the cup on the saucer as you dabbed the sides of your mouth with the green cloth napkin.

"My Lady Jeyne, I know you heard me. Whatever you wish to say, you can. Speak freely and openly," you commanded.

She placed her hands on her hips, gazing over the outfits, procrastinating her response. "It is rather cold today. I believe this gown would meet the weather today." Jeyne paused, dropping the dress she was holding and moving to another. "But I do think we should make a statement today."

You rose from your seat, pacing to the eldest servant, removing the clothes from her hands, and throwing them with the rest.

"Jeyne," you widened your eyes, placing your fists on her shoulders as Daemon did when trying to be serious. "Tell me what you are avoiding."

She turned her head away, worried eyes flickering everywhere but you.

This was unlike her. Jeyne was hardened and made serious after years of working for pompous high borns; nothing would ever stir her in such a way. Whatever was burdening her created tension in the room, Fiora and Dyana stopping their tasks to come near the pair of you.

"We overheard the Lords at court mentioning Your Grace's name. They seemed to be talking of having you removed from the Small Council by the Hand's orders before the meeting at high noon today," Dyana spoke out uncharacteristically.

Your head snapped toward her, startling the poor little maid from the fierceness of your stare. "They cannot do that," you yelled instinctually, "only the King can appoint or remove Council Members."

Dyana retreated within herself, bowing quickly as she went back to fluffing your feather pillows, a slight tremble in her step. You inhaled a calming breath, briefly shutting your eyes to exhale the sudden anxiety in your gut.

"I thank you for telling me, Dyana. What Lords were speaking of such things?" you asked in a gentler tone, going to sit in front of your vanity.

She tucked in the strands of blonde that came loose from her servant's cap, clasping her fingers with her face downcast. "I am not privy to the names of Lords, Your Grace. My apologies, I am unsure."

You bobbed absentmindedly and dismissed the subject, chewing at your lip as Fiora began to brush your hair. You felt the slight gnawing of guilt in the back of your mind for frightening Dyana with only a look in your eyes. It wasn't as if you meant to scare her. You were insulted at the notion of your peers conspiring behind your back, and it showed within the tone of your voice. You hoped she realized it wasn't directed at her. You would never purposely hurt any of your servants, let alone one so timid and meek.

You did not know what Council Members could be conspiring against you. Ser Otto Hightower was the most obvious one, but you understood he wouldn't remove you from the table outright. You were serving in the heir's stead. It would be equivalent to having Rhaenyra herself removed from the Small Council, which was something that could not be done.

Lord Lyman Beesbury was not one of your conspirators, you believed. He was loyal to the King and his word, not easily swayed by coin and the opinions of others. Jasper Wylde and Tyland Lannister were a pair you were certain of, in any case. With his iron rod opinions and having as many male heirs as possible, Lord Wylde believed a woman's sole purpose was in the birthing bed. Lord Lannister's prejudice against your mother for refusing his brother's and his hand in marriage were all motives.

It would be surprising if Maester Mellos knew what was happening around him, so he was not one. The man was so ancient and decrepit; you would be shocked if he survived through winter. Lord Larys Strong had yet to appear for the meetings, but you wouldn't put it past him to desire to be rid of you. You always remembered the one encounter with him. It sent shivers down your spine to think about it. Queen Alicent, of course, would prefer if you never asked for a position but understood that if she went back on her word, the havoc that would follow with your absence with her eldest son would be unimaginable.

The three servants interrupted your thoughts, Fiora almost yanking your black hair from the roots as she coiled a braid in the shape of a crown around your skull, Dyana applying cream onto your cheeks from where the wind had burnt you, and Jeyne asking which gown you would like to wear once more.

The older lady was unsurprised whenever you chose a dress of charcoal grey with golden embroidery dripping from the naturally high neckline, the matching style on each side of your waist and cuffs, giving the illusion of more curves to your figure. A rope of woven aureate threads was snatched around your hips with a circular metal broach, a blood-red ruby in the middle. A similar pattern to the one on your wrists was also on the bottom of the gown, the soft fabric lightly billowing out and dusting the floor.

Jeyne handed you a matching asymmetric cape with swirling golden trim for the venture you would have to make across the grounds. She sent you off with a gentle squeeze to your biceps to traverse through the castle until you were sat on the battlefield.

The time was not yet midday, perhaps three to two hours off, you speculated, deciding to spend the remaining time within the Godswood. With the help of daylight, you saw details you had missed when you visited a previous night.

The walls that squared the Heart Tree had more cracks than you remembered, vines of green ivory crawling up the expanse. Some bushes and shrubs lined the small perimeter before an iron gate opened to the rest of the landscaping. No flowers were budding or in bloom like when you briefly spent time here, the colder temperature taking effect on every living thing on these grounds. A strange glass structure piqued your interest, something you hadn't noticed before.

It was placed just out of the Weirwood's shadow, ensuring the sun's rays would always shine on it no matter the time of day. The roof of the small building was only an arm above your head, the inside barely wide enough to fit two bodies comfortably. You squinted your eyes to peer through the glass, a glare making it so you could only see yourself looking back. Cupping your hands around your brows, you pressed their sides to the transparent wall. Strange near cylindrical lumps dangling from the ceiling with tiny strings, looking like a freshly plucked leaf from a plant a child had rolled on itself.

This was the first time you had done something like this. It was odd, sparking the curious interest of your open mind as you descended your fingers to pop the small metal latch that kept the door shut.

"Cousin!" you heard Helaena's cheerful voice echo in the wind, causing your to turn.

You greeted her with bright eyes and grinning lips, pleasantly surprised by her interruption. She arrived with two servants trailing behind her, a tot in each of their strong arms. Your heart melted to see the young Prince and Princess, golden blonde hair and violet irises matching their mothers.

Helaena's silver dress glimmered as she embraced you, her petite frame swallowing you whole. You felt like you would cry as you circle your arms around her, finally feeling the welcoming warmth of kindness and love you yearned for in a place of icy distastefulness. The eldest Hightower daughter was too good for the life she lived.

"Helaena," you chirped as she let go. "I am pleased to see you here and with your children no less! I have only heard of their cuteness in talks, but nothing said could have prepared me for... this!"

You rushed over to the maids, cooing at little Jaehaerys and Jaehaera as they observed you with curious eyes. Though they were identical, they differed in many ways. Jaehaerys furrowed his blonde eyebrows at you, almost appearing as if he was scowling, while Jaehaera reached for you with grabby little hands, not even the size of your palm. You welcomed the young girl with open arms, awing and babbling nonsense as her tiny fingers deftly rubbed your cheeks. It was the sweetest of touches and made you uncaring for how her sharp nails stung your sensitive flesh with her inexperience.

You shifted your body to Helaena, seeing her thin lips smiling as you doted on her daughter. You stroked the fine hair on Jaehaera's small head, adoring its silky soft feeling as you delicately bounced her on your hip.

All too soon, you were stolen from your babe-induced trance when a piercing cry rang in your ears, instinctively making you cringe. Prince Jaehaerys was wiggling in the nursemaid's hold, pushing weakly against her body and flailing his short legs. The young boy's eyes were welling with tears. His face beat red as he furled and unfurled his fists, nearly throwing himself out of the servant's arms in your direction.

You glanced back at Helena with a confused look, unsure what to do. She came towards you, reaching out in a gesture to give Jaehaera to her. The young girl did not protest, babbling happily to be with her mother again while her brother screamed as if he was being murdered.

Pacing over to the wailing child, he was plopped into your grasp, nearly being dropped in the process in his desperation. His crying immediately ceased once he was with you like a switch flipped in his head, cherubic face rounded with joy as he played with the tie that held your cloak together. You gazed down at him and then at the older wet nurse, stunned, uncertain of what happened.

"Just like his father," the other women in red commented, and you snapped your head toward her. "Screaming and crying until he gets what he wants."

You quickly glanced at Helaena to see if she heard the maid's near-treasonous words, but she was distracted, trailing a curved finger down Jaehaera's button nose as she giggled.

"Now, let us check our sovia," Helaena chirped at her daughter.

Another set of purple eyes watched from within the Keep's pale red stone walls, a decanter in his hand. It was an interesting site to see his sister, the woman Aegon intended to love, with the woman he truly did, a cruel representation of his life. He took a swing of his firewater, the burn a welcomed feeling as he saw his whining son be thrust into you.

Aegon's mind couldn't help but wander to the imagination of that boy being half your blood instead of his sister's. He pictured your belly round with child, back aching, and breasts sore from the labor that is a babe. He couldn't remember much of Helaena's pregnancy, too drunk and high off pleasure to even spend a moment with her. The day she gave birth, Aegon was nowhere to be seen. He could not recall if he was in the Silk Streets or fighting pits at the time; either place was preferable to see what a night of his own rape created.

He never wanted this life, even before he met you. Aegon was wonderful to whore, drink, and gamble to his heart's content, and he would've loved to continue his life that way if it wasn't for the duty that was forced upon him at the moment of his conception. But the longer he thought about it, the more he observed you doting on his children; Aegon realized that he did want the responsibility his status created. He just wanted it with you.

A scowl formed on Aegon's lips as he forced another gulp of Dornish Red down his throat.

***

You entered the Small Council chambers before the others, grabbing the large marble off a table and placing it in the holder, taking the same seat as before. Ser Harold Westerling and Criston Cole were the only two occupants, each standing on their respective sides of the room—you threw Ser Harrold a half-hearted but well-meaning smile which he returned with a dip of his head. Ser Criston's chocolate orbs studied you in silence as one would their enemy, making you fidget with the glass ball with the pads of your fingers.

The three of you continued to sit in an awkward quiet, the rolling of the marble against wood being the only noise as you waited for the other Lords and the Queen to arrive. You began chewing the forever scarred portion of your lip, picking the white skin with your teeth in anxiety. Your curious eyes couldn't help but drift to the man on your right, his layered silver armor like a mirror, reflecting the yellow glow of the scented candles and sun.

Ser Criston was an enigma. A man who held such contempt behind his Dornish features only to speak so kindly and eloquently to those around him. It created much skepticism in your interpretation of him. You couldn't put a pin to it, but something about him made your hairs stand on edge, the urge to constantly look over your shoulder when he was near. It was as if, at any moment, Criston would unsheath his deadly longsword and slice whoever was in his path without provocation. You were certain if Alicent gave the word, he would plunge whatever weapon available into your throat, no questions spoken.

It was terrifying and caused you to be hyper-aware of his presence forever. A frown tugged at your lips with the thought, averting your gaze toward the two Valyrian Sphinxes at the end of the room. Even their stony, emotionless faces were more of a comfort than that of Ser Criston Cole's.

You released a huff, ridding your mind of the bone-chilling imagination as you shoved your chair backward, deciding to indulge in the full pitcher of spiced wine. You leaned against the long wooden table of the Council Chamber, focusing your vision on the closed doors.

It was unlike anyone of the Lords to be late, which irritated you. Surely, you were not given the incorrect time, though you wouldn't put it past them to do that as you took a long sip of your drink. You knew of their intentions to remove you from the Council, and their delay was another piece of evidence to support what you heard. When they inevitably arrived, you hoped that your stern and unimpressed look would make them realize their mistake.

"Ser Harrold," you called absentmindedly, waving your full goblet, "where are the other members?"

You heard the rustling of his armor before he spoke emotionlessly. "I believe that they are to arrive at any moment."

You gave an unimpressed "hmm" at the Lord Commander's reply, crossing your arms over your chest as you pursed your lips.

"And you Ser Criston, where do you believe my fellow members of caucus are?" you inquired with the raise of your thick brow.

"Mayhaps with their kin, as you should be," Criston answered unabashedly, which you chuckled at.

"Cole!" Ser Westerling scolded before you stopped him with the shift of your hand.

"Tis all right, Lord Commander, I take no offense. Ser Criston is right, after all. I should be with my family at home on Dragonstone, but unfortunately, I must spend my days here serving in the stead of our heir until she is able to rule," you quipped with a brilliant smile. "Such a burden to ensure the duty and safety of the realm, but if that is the price I must pay in order to make certain my mother continues to strengthen our House with an adoring husband she would sacrifice anything for..." you paused, positioning your body so that the kingsguardmen saw your expressions and processed your words, "tis a burden I shall carry gratefully."

You smirked with pride as you saw Ser Criston shift his gaze from you, his hand tightening on the pommel of his sword with that same contempt look. From the corner of your peripheral, you even saw the barest of smiles on Ser Westerling's face, an unusual sight.

Tension was thick in the room, though it did not last long. Lord Laymen Beesbury entered the Small Council chambers with a creak of the door, his presence cutting the thickness like a knife. He gave you a polite smile in greeting as he briskly walked past you to take his place on the left side of the table. You followed his movements returning to your own as you waited for the others.

"I apologize for my tardiness, your Grace," Lord Beesbury spoke. You chuckled at him, glancing at the barren spaces around you.

"As you can see you are not the only one, my Lord. I take no offense. Do you know why they have not arrived yet?" you interrogated graciously.

"Truthfully, Princess, I am ignorant on the matter. Lord Hightower said this meeting was of great importance, so I'm unsure why they are not here either. Something to do with the King and his mind," he replied.

You cocked a brow at him, your expressions mirroring each other as you both waited in reticence. Thankfully, you didn't have to for long as Jasper Wylde, Otto Hightower, Queen Alicent, Tyland Lannister, Larys Strong, and Prince Aemond entered immediately. The abruptness of it all bewildered you and Lord Beesbury, sharking stunned looks as each filed into their respective seats, except for Aemond.

Your sights flickered over each of them, a lamb looking at a pack of wolves as they cornered it. The dagger at your waist was a comfort you did not know you needed today until now.

"Prince Aemond," the Queen spoke first, everyone's attention on her. "Will be joining our gatherings from now on as the King's cup bearer, upon his Majesty's request."

A wicked gleam showed from your eyes, hiding a satisfied smirk under the rim of your bronze chalice.

How peculiar...

"A wise choice, indeed," Lord Lannister replied, gesturing for the young man to give him a glass.

Unable to stifle the giggle this situation caused, you covered it with a cough, apologizing and saying you choked on the liquid. It was not lost on you the irony of the problem. Prince Aemond, a true-born son of the crown, a cupbearer, while you, a mere lowly bastard born from a whore and rouge prince, sat on the King's Council.

Fate was a cruel and twisted thing, and oh, how you loved it.

To Aemond's credit, he took the embarrassing position in stride, ensuring everyone's goblet was filled to their desires and not a single drop was spilled. He assumed the quality of not being seen or heard as each Lord conversed, his lithe form and platinum hair slinking into the background unnoticed. You kept his presence tucked securely within your mind, not forgetting the night of the feast.

"Princess, it has been many moons since I've seen you," Lord Larys said, interrupting you from observing the second son. The other men surrounding you hushed their conversations, eager to listen to yours.

"It has," you answered. You didn't want to converse with the man. He was twice as warped as his club foot and his mind as cunning.

"You have changed much since then. The skinny street rat I once saw is no more, a strong and fierce woman you have grown into. Your Father must be proud," he continued, ignoring your obvious insult and disinterest in the conversation.

"He is," you nodded curtly, swallowing the scowl that threatened to form.

"I would love to learn of your life at Dragonstone. I, sadly, have never been and would love to know much about the landscape. Is it true that the land smells of brimstone?"

You were losing your patience with the man, nearly standing from your seat to leave and forgetting the purpose of your entire stay as the large oak doors opened again.

A heavy silence fell over the room like a cloud shielding the land from the sun's rays. You turned a beat after the men, briefly examining their faces before you saw King Viserys slouched on his makeshift throne. A self-satisfied smirk pulled your lips, threatening to split the raw skin. An eager, excited look danced across your features as you stared at the dumbfounded, almost... furious gazes of the men before you.

There were feelings of doubt looming inside your mind as to whether Viserys would show. He was a living husk of a man slowly being eaten away by an incurable disease; you understood why he would be unable to deliver. The idea that he would risk his health for something as unimportant as his bastard niece and adopted granddaughter was a heartwarming victory for you and an icy insult to his advisors.

It was wonderful.

Gold Cloaks came rushing by, silently gesturing for the Queen to move her seat next to the Hand so that his majesty's throne could fit. The look of ire upon Alicent's heart-shaped face and big doe eyes was nearly enough to quell the victorious feeling thumping in your chest. But then suddenly, you remembered the cruelness that woman could wield to those unlucky to witness it, and it blew away like fallen leaves in the autumn wind. You would turn away just as she did to you when your kin's head was sentenced to be sliced from their body.

Ser Harrold leaned into Viserys' ear once settled, his face too concentrated on not fainting to betray anything to your watchful eyes. Larys Strong was the only man who appeared unfazed, smirking, shifting his mousey features from you to the King and the rest of the members.

Again, a severe stillness blanketed the room, save for the raspy breaths of Viserys. Though all he did was be carried, staying conscious was enough of a feat for him. You said nothing, not daring to utter a single word and ruin this long-earned victory. The palpable emotions in the room said more than you ever could.

"My King, it is most joyous to have your presence with us once again. How do you fare?" The forever proud lion spoke first. A smug look slanted your eyes as you took another drink.

"Your King," Viserys spat through gritted teeth, surprising you all, "is enraged."

Concerned glances were tossed from everyone within the room, even you, the unwanted bastard.

"It seems, my advisors mean to undermine my rule. First, you refuse to hear my grandchild's petitions, my own flesh and blood, the daughter of the realms heir." You tried not to choke on the lukewarm wine you swallowed, clenching your fists to will your cough to leave. "Then, I hear you conspire to have the heir's ward thrown from the Council! The King's Small Council!"

Your eyes became slits, shifting your gaze across every person sitting at the table. Your middle finger tapped the bronze chalice harshly, the onyx dragon ring clinking as you channeled your offense.

"This is treason! I could have all your lives for that, even you wife," Viserys shouted venomously, a vein popping out of his stretched, crepey skin.

Aemond suddenly appeared at your side, pouring from the silver pitcher without consent. You tossed him a miffed look before waving him away like a fly, nearly backhanding the spare prince.

"Your Grace. I told them of the insult it would be. That it is unlawful to attempt a process only the King himself can commit," Otto Hightower pleaded.

The Lords looked incredulously at the Hand, their mouths gaping as a fish freshly caught out of Blackwater Bay. Truly, they saw how treacherous Otto Hightower could be. How conniving and yellow-bellied he was to keep a position as the Protector of the Realm's advisor.

"Enough, Otto!" Viserys shouted, stunning everyone into muteness. "Rhaenyra's child will treated as she would. She is my daughter's voice. You will listen to her as you would Princess Rhaenyra and is to stay on this Council until the Princess's return."

You were momentarily speechless; the wind knocked out of your lungs by the ferocity of his voice. You had never seen your Grandsire speak in such a way, always living up to his title of "peaceful" in the brief times you spent with him. A new respect for the older man was made from the act.

"Thank you, Grandsire," you said gratefully, bowing your head in appreciation.

He sighed at your gratitude, the rage he once felt slowly depleting with a sweet look of your soft brown and violet orbs. "Speak, now child," the King commanded gently.

Inhaling a gulp of air, you closed your eyes as you stood, using the pads of your fingers for support. You saw Aemond twitch just out of view, appearing as if he wanted to reach for something but thought better of it, folding his lean arms behind his back. His expression became dark as you spoke, teeth gritting and jaw clenched with every sway of your arms.

"As I mentioned in our previous meeting, there is need for aid in the Stepstones. Our ally Lord Corlys Velaryon has beseeched my mother and the crown for help by any means necessary." Alicent's bejeweled digits clasped in front of her, looking at the wooden table with downturned lips. "My mother will use her own personal fleet of ships filled with any supplies one might need. It is not my intent to send men over to fight a war Westeros has never been a part of. We will only give aid. My brother, Prince Jacaerys, my Father, and I will escort the fleet to ensure their safe travels to the Islands."

"How would we acquire such items Princess?" Lord Jasper asked, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

Your fingertips idly traced the rim of your cup, creating a ripple in the purplish liquid. "I have seen to it that my personal allowance be put into acquiring extra products for our imports. Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon have volunteered partials of their shares to, as have my kind brothers Prince Jacaerys and Lucerys." Aemond visibility bristled at the mention of his childhood assailant, switching his posture into almost a fighting stance. "My brothers and I shall have no celebrations in our name and nothing commissioned until the money is paid in full."

"Princess," Lord Beesbury spoke instead, "your generosity moves me. I too shall invest my own coin into this effort."

You hadn't expected any of them to donate, no less the Master of Coin, and it shocked you into dumbness until you finally thanked him.

"When the Triarchy and their Dornish supporters see the three headed banners of the dragon instead of the seahorse, won't they feel entitled to declare war on the west?" Lord Hightower interrogated.

You smiled brightly at him, biting your teeth like an eager child as you answered. "But they will not see the dragon, it will be the same seahorse that has been sailed there for nearly a decade."

"Tis not in good taste to commit such a deceitful act, it goes against our laws of duty and honor to disguise ourselves to the enemy and get an unfair advantage," Jasper Wylde spoke again.

"This is war Lord Wylde. Men are murdering each other. The act in itself is dishonorable," you countered, causing the other members in the room to hush.

"War is not an excuse to commit such craven acts. We must be better than our enemies and win with dignity and pride," he shot back.

"Have you ever seen bloodshed Lord Wylde?" you asked with a raised brow. "I've seen men die for less. Dignity and pride mean nothing when you are at the end of a sword."

Lord Ironrod turned his gaze from you, staring at Otto Hightower for assistance but receiving none. One thing you could give the man was to know what battles to fight and which to retreat from. When Ser Jasper realized he was receiving no help from who he thought was an ally, the Lord turned to the King, hoping he would see reason, but met the vacant stare of a man clinging to life.

"I do have a suggestion, Princess, if you'll allow me," Alicent interjected.

"Of course my Queen," you nodded, sitting back in your seat and taking a long drink from your cup.

The Queen rose from her chair, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles in her seafoam green dress, the Seven-Pointed Star around her high-collared neck.

"There is no need for three dragons to be flown when we need only one. I volunteer my son, Prince Aemond to escort the fleet. Vhagar's power is second to none, her alone could protect an entire army," she said plainly, her voice carrying a regal and pragmatic lilt. "Also, my Lady, would it not be advantageous for you to stay here at the Keep to ensure all coin and inventory was accounted for?"

You acknowledge her statement with the furrow of your brow, curling your index finger over your lip as you rest your chin on the heel of your palm. "I understand your logic, my Queen. I will speak to Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon to gather their input."

Alicent nodded, not agreeing nor disagreeing with the plan. Hightowers knew when the fight was over.

Your gaze fell onto Aemond, his piercing violet eye focused on the King instead of you, the scarred skin underneath his leather patch twitching. You would tell your parents about Alicent's suggestion, but you were against it, as you knew they would be too.

The One-Eyed Prince wasn't to be trusted. You needn't that spelled out to you. Anyone who had experienced something as traumatic as losing an appendage would surely harbor the rage of a thousand suns for all involved and those who did nothing to rectify it. The assailant's brother, Father, and sister were all targets of his rage. You would not be surprised to wake up without your left eye one day. Part of you would be glad that Aemond had his revenge and what it meant.

Little Luke would finally be at peace. He would no longer have nightmares of his uncle ascending upon him in the dark, wondering if or when the Queen decided to seek her form of justice for her son that was never served. You would lose your eyes and life before Alicent or Aemond tried such a thing.

You diverted your attention back to the men passively bickering before the Prince took note, listening intently to the points and counters of each, deflecting and explaining when prompted of you.

With a lull in the conversation and Lord Jasper Wylde visibly fuming from within as Viserys coughed, a crimson glob of phlegm spewed from his mouth onto the wooden table. You stood faster than the Queen, rushing over to him as you supported his upper body.

Lord Beesbury rose from his seat, unable to stomach the sight of blood and saliva dripping from the corners of the King's mouth. You used loose fabric from your sleeve to wipe away the red mixture, motioning to Aemond to fill his Father's drink. Viserys' feeble digits grazed your knuckles, gently bringing the liquid to his mouth, his touch as cold as the snow in the north. He inhaled a ragged breath as he finished, his body slightly swaying, still recovering from the violent coughing fit.

Alicent came from behind you, shouting for someone to get the Maesters as you backed away, letting her be the dutiful wife. Viserys smacked her prodding fingers away, frail enough to accept the help of his grandchild but not humble enough to take his wife's.

"I believe..." the King wheezed, his voice wet, "that a decision is to be made."

A few paces from where Aemond stood, you stepped further away and began to chew your lip, concealing your fidgeting fingers behind your waist.

"I declare that we're to send aid to Lord Corlys Velaryon in the Stepstones," he stated, hate radiating from each Council Member. "The Princess is to oversee the project. You will look to her regarding the process to proceed."

Before the Gold Cloaks that carried the King in, you swiftly bowed. "Thank you, my King," you articulated, unsure if he heard you as the men ushered him out of the room, leaving you alone within a dean of starving vipers.

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Thank you so much for your patience. I know it's not fun waiting for someone to update a story you're reading, so I appreciate that y'all aren't upset with me and have been so nice. Sadly, I'm going to disappoint you again. I'm going to be going on a little vacation away from updating. I'll still be writing tho, just not having to deal with the anxiety of a due date. I just feel like I need a small break. I've been doing this for 8 months!

Thank you again for taking the time to follow this story with me, and I look forward to seeing your interactions once I'm back! <3

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storiumemporium · 2 years

Text

Aemond Targaryen - Sex and Pleasure

A series of headcanons of how Aemond is in bed with his lovers- male or female.

I have other shit planned for my favorite war criminal, but I figured I'd get my foot through the door with something fun first. ;3c

With Men

Aemond harbors no fondness for men, I’m afraid. He’s had almost nothing but terrible experiences with the same sex his entire youth, and it has heavily painted his behaviors in adulthood. (Mommies boy w daddy issues wombo combo, here.)

When he beds men, he does it solely for the immediate pleasure- and he is not kind about it.

That isn’t to say he’s cruel in the sense of his brother, though cruel is still not an inaccurate word in itself.

Aemond’s cruelty varies widely, however.

He is anything from an impish torturer to downright violent.

On his good days, he takes the former— teasing, teasing, teasing. He’ll make you beg, he’ll make you sob. You’ll be aching, burning, pleading, ready to gnaw off your own fucking foot before he gives you- and himself- the satisfaction of watching you come undone with the force of the Fourteen Flames.

You’re too limp to notice that he’s yet to cum- yet to even undress half the time- and he is simpering in your ear all the while. “Is that the best you could do for your Prince..? Tsk. Shameful.”

On his bad days though..?

Most can’t tell if you’ve come from a fuck or a fight.

Bruises, bites so hard he draws blood, absolute downright aggression from the deepest, darkest, most pent up parts of his soul. He spares you not a word, simply takes what he needs with the force of the Dragon in his veins. The only noise you are afforded are his grunts of exertion, burning through the rage he keeps so carefully locked away.

Things shift only slightly if you end up someone he likes— or rather, a favored prostitute among the pack.

With you, he likes to play out stories.

Sitting leisurely in a chair, a glass of wine in his hand, his eyepatch discarded- a discreet sign of his favor toward you- as he lets you lick at his boots, take them undone with teeth and tongue. If you can manage it fast enough, you’re rewarded with a taste of his wine.

Straight from his mouth.

He likes when you call him ‘King’, when you fulfill those fantasies he keeps so desperately tamped down, always concerned with being the good son, with not contributing to his mothers’ pain.

Otherwise he rewards you with conversation, and a- well- a lack of aggression or meanness, though if you had not witnessed that prior, you would not know you were being treated with any sort of kindness or gentleness from him.

With you- and only with you- might he sit for leisurely time even after the activities have subsided. Regaling you or even humoring your own tales when he finds himself unable or unwilling to keep conversation.

Perhaps, you might even get to see the Prince sleep. The only time you will ever see the gentleness his heart can hold.

But With Women

Ah… this poor, sweet boy.

All that aggression vanishes with women.

Now I must say, there is no casual experiences with women. None. Natta. If you think Aemond straight then he remains virginal, dry as Dornish sands until the day he finds love or betrothal.

As it stands, Aemond loves the women of his family and has seen too intimately the suffering caused by a mans’ wanton debauchery- everything from the endless stress wrought upon his mother, to the aching loneliness of his sister.

Not to mention, he daresay dislikes to mention or even think of, the things that his disgusting brother Aegon would do to the innocent women of the Red Keep.

It is for this, he only takes you once you are well and truly his, in heart if not in name.

Where he would be commanding, commandeering, even draconian with men- he is utterly pliant for the woman of his soul.

(Service top, through and through.) Aemond will border on being a sub with you, though his own pride and desire for control in all things prevents him- so expect for a very, very affectionate and almost needy top. You'll be hard pressed to get an outright dom from him, especially with how much he loves you and wants you to feel it.

He will be as gentle or as rough as you like, but affectionate always. Even his teases are sweet, calling you things like Trapped Dove as he kisses the sides of your face.

In truth, teasing would not be frequent. What Aemond feels, he feels entirely, wholly and completely. He is struck with desire for you abruptly, viciously, and it spurs him to take you without pretext or embellishment- he has no need of it with you.

Kisses, gentle in feeling but devouring in emotion. Cradling you like glass even as it feels like he wishes to slot you inside his ribs and keep you with him forever.

Asking you what you want, if what he is doing is good, if he needs to do anything better, if you needed more or less. His words are confident, but his eyes are pleading and tender, unsure. Always somewhat unsure with himself when it came to you.

The first time you see his false eye, you were the one that had to take the eyepatch off.

Riding him in his lap, your back to the fire, his stare upon you reverent as ever. You could see the sweat around the patch, could imagine how uncomfortable it must feel.

It hurt you slightly, to know he would make himself more uncomfortable out of fear that you would be disgusted.

Off it came, faster than he could react- refuse- and you were kissing the scarring around the socket even as you whimpered pitifully for him.

That was the fastest he’d cum with you.

He revels in being able to grab you in ways that would be violent- frightening- with any other man.

A hand firmly around your throat, grabbing your jaw, bunched loosely in the hair at the base of your skull.

The way even as he holds you in such a threatening fashion, you remain utterly lax- utterly trusting.

That delicate feeling of your little pulse thundering away against his calloused palm. But not from terror- no- anticipation.

It was when he did things like this with you that he understood his Dragon had to be Vaghar- a woman.

There was no greater exhilaration or satisfaction in the world than the gentle taming of a woman, no matter how timid she may already be. Great dragon, or delicate Lady.

Even if Aemond were not already utterly repulsed by Aegon, he would always feel a condescending pity toward his older brother for not being able to understand- let alone indulge- in the finer things such as this.

Always for the quick fuck, violent, forceful, forced.

He would never understand the sight of soft, firelit eyes. Of hair willingly loosed for him, of angelic plush lips parted. The way he could take flesh to teeth or blade and you would merely say his name, a soft croon, a loving plea.

He is as fond of the aftermath as he is the act. Kisses and soft, hoarse voices. Talking to you of anything- asking if there is anything you need tended to. But most of all, laying his head upon your chest- utterly exposed- and feeling nothing but love and comfort and safety.

His. His. His. All his.

#aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond kinslayer #aemond x you #aemond smut #prince aemond #aemond x reader #house of the dragon #hotd

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vibratingskull · 25 days

Note

If we are talking about sub!Thrawn

How about one were he lost his virginity to reader at royal imperial and has been reader sub since then.

Maybe with some smut, go with whatever your hearts desire.

Sub!Thrawn is consumming me right now... I just slightly tweaked the timeline, I just cannot imagine him having sex with someone he knows for only three months, I hope it's okay for you.

Gorgeous art by @sinnuous

Thrawn x F!reader

Tags : Submissive!Thrawn, loss if virginity, aphrodisiac, shibari, penis cage, restraints, face sitting, P in V, creampie, breeding kink

Thrawn being casually Aroace in my fics? Who would have thought ? 😏

You intently look at the picture and look back at your cord knots. Yeah... Good enough for a new try! You take a step back to observe your masterpiece. Thrawn is sitting naked on a stool, his mighty body wrapped in shibari knots, adorning his vibrant blue skin, making a walking piece of art.

You cover your mouth with your two hands, refraining from an excited giggle rising in your throat.

“What is the final result?” Thrawn asks, turning his red gaze to you.

“It’s... magnificent.” You can only say.

You hook two fingers in one knot, testing the cords.

“How is it?” You ask.

Thrawn breath deeply and rolls his powerful muscles to test the restraints.

“Tighter please.” He demands.

You adjust the deep red ropes, so ravishing on his deep blue skin. You pull on the ropes, tightening them.

“Tighter.” He demands again.

“Are you sure?” You ask, “We never tried this tight before.”

“I am curious, please tighten the knots again.” He responds with his deep melodious voice.

You pull the ropes again, observing how they bite into his flesh. Thrawn greets his teeth and hisses as the shibari compress his muscles like never before. You keep going, knowing that if need be, he will use your safe word to stop everything. But he never does.

“Now?” You ask, weary of the cords around his thick throat.

He exhales between his teeth, his head thrown backward in a mix of pain and pleasure. He rolls his shoulders to test his restraints, appreciating the compression of his muscles.

“Perfect.” He judges, “That is... Perfect.”

You circle him, observing the final result, how the cords cross and wave and tie around his body. They are quite thin to be discreet and invisible under clothes but they are damn strong, no risk for Thrawn to inadvertently tear one apart. You take his hand to guide him to the big mirror of the suite, to let him observe his new body.

He remains silent, observing every minute detail, every knot dancing on his flesh. You look at him with a big smile, proud of your work.

“Do you like it?” You ask.

“This is... Glorious. You outdid yourself, Ch’acah.” He compliments you, tracing the cords on his arm.

This is not your first Shibari rodeo but those knots are new for you, but the results are so worth it! You place yourself behind him, raising on your toes, and lick his cheek with a satisfied grin.

“Satisfied, my sweet?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He breathes as your hand comes caressing his throat, lazily squeezing it. “Thank you, ma’am.”

You hum satisfied and peck his cheek. Thrawn fascination for art also appears in the bedroom and making him a breathing piece of art is a must during foreplay for him! He just loves becoming your canvas for your sessions, letting you create patterns on his skin. Sometimes he is the one who finds new figures to tie, like today. He submits to you, letting you experiment with your craft for both of your pleasures.

“On your knees, big boy.” You whisper in his ear, nibbling his lobe.

Your high heels resonate in the suite as you walk to fetch your accessories. He obeys and gets on his knees, his red eyes getting foggy with desire and eagerness to submit. His breath gets shorter as you review your different options lying on his desk. You have cuffs, crops, blindfolds, paddles, gags and gags bars, clamps, floggers... A lot of options!

You both quickly realized Thrawn absolutely loves to be restrained in some way, with cuffs, ribbons, cords, or tape. His hands, his legs, tied to the bed or behind his back, nailed to the floor, wall or hanging from the ceiling... And then he let you play with his exposed and defenseless body, teasing him, torturing him, toying with him. He relinquished all of his powers to you.

Trusting you completely.

You reminisce about the start of your relationship, how you took Eli and Thrawn “under your wing” in the Academy, begrudgingly becoming friends, taming each other. What was your surprise when you learned you followed them both on the Blood Crow, apparently your time together wasn’t over yet.

You fooled around with some male and female colleagues, having fun while Thrawn and Eli kept to their art and Excel sheets. That’s around this time you learned you liked to take control in the bedroom, seeing others submit at your feet.

Is was thrilling! Exhilarating! New and fresh!

How they tried to get back control, and how you fought to keep command. You always came up on top, always finding the trick or the sweet little thing making them submit to your will.

Some were easy, some were reluctant, but you always found a way...

You even slept with that bitch Rossi in exchange for her promise to not punish Thrawn after one of his “political miscalculations” of one of his tactical prowess during a mission. She thought you would be a piece of cake, that she would have some free fun and come back on her words to punish Thrawn as it pleased her.

How wrong she was...

She did not punish Thrawn after the night you spent together and she stayed pretty much away from your trio until you got your new affectations.

You never told Thrawn about that. Maybe you were already falling for him at that time... No, in retrospect you definitely had fallen for him! But you didn’t know it back then. So you kept meeting them both, bitching with Eli about Rossi, playing cards with Thrawn, drinking with them both...

Nice times.

For your next post, you specifically asked to follow Lieutenant Thrawn wherever he might go, because frankly, things could get so batshit crazy with him that you found it both hilarious and terribly worrying for the health of your two friends. You needed to keep an eye on those two walking catastrophes.

And the Navy obliged.

You followed him on the next ship, your relationship growing and flourishing into something new but undiscovered still. You regularly played Shah-Tezh together in your or his cabin, he taught you new strategies and slowly, you were growing on him, unbeknownst to both of you.

And then.

Came that mission...

The one that turned your relationship around.

It started rather mundane, you were both sent as escort to a diplomat to bordering worlds of the Empire for a political soiree. Let’s just say Thrawn was less than thrilled.

“Knowing you will be at my side ease my worries, my friend.” He said to you.

You smiled at him, promising to run to his rescue if he ever ended up in a political conversation with one of the aliens. You had to abide by the dress code and you appeared in an evening gown and Thrawn in a black suit. You discreetly checked him out, the suit was deliciously tight and becoming on him. He looked like a full-course dinner.

You abstained from any comment, of course, Thrawn wouldn’t have appreciated to get objectified like that.

Or so you thought...

You appeared in the ballroom arm-in-arm, the diplomat had ordered you to remain discreet and not be too obvious in your mission, so you watched over them, pretending to be simple guests.

As the only alien of the Navy and not yet recognized for his true genius, Thrawn was perceived as disposable and was designated as a poison tester for the diplomat. Any dish or drink they wanted to taste, Thrawn had to taste first. In solidarity with your “good friend”, you tasted everything with him.

Until at some point you tasted the same glass of a certain sparkly champaign and advised the diplomat to not touch it, the taste was... something else. None of your chemical reactive you had detected any deadly poison, so you expected to endure stomach pain for some hours.

Uncomfortable but manageable.

How wrong you were...

Around 10 minutes after you start to feel hot and sweaty all of a sudden with some vertigo to spice things up. You immediately searched for Thrawn to check up on him, finding him taking fresh air on the balcony. He had his usual cool and detached tendencies but he was sweating too and his hand holding down the rail was trembling slightly, very unlike him!

You seized his arm and pulled him back inside, groped Eli to tell him you headed towards the infirmary. You walked side to side in those long and torturous corridors, the silence only broken up by your increasingly short breaths. You forced open a door with a kick, thinking it was the closed infirmary only to discover it was a bedroom.

Crap!

It will had to do, your organism refused to go farther without relief. You were now hot and, to your horror, bothered.

Did you drink an aphrodisiac? You gave a side glance to Thrawn in the hope he would be able to make a sane decision because you were in no state to make any informed choice yourself, only to realize he was in worse shape than you! Laying against the wall, his head thrown backward, his breath was only a painful hiss, his apple bobbing up and down as he gulped with difficulties. He sat down on the bed and opened his collar with a trembling hand, sweat trickling down his temple, breath short and painful.

“Take your shower first.” He gentlemanly proposed, “I will go after you.”

“With all due respect sir, you look way worse than me.” You retorted.

Whatever they put in this glass, Chiss are more sensible to it than humans.

He held his head in his hand like it was too heavy to stand on his neck, messing his hair up, he breathed through his greeted teeth. He may appeared just a little roughed up, but it was so unlike him to act as such you didn’t even try to guess the real discomfort he was in.

“Nonsense.” He retorted with a raspy voice, his melodious tessitura even deeper than usual and that stroke you straight to your core you had to press your thighs to silence the longing of your awakening desire, “I am perfectly fine, nothing a fresh shower will not fix.”

The effect of his voice on you was so powerful you chose to run under the shower without any other words to not be in the same room as him. He always looked good to you, but under the raw effect of the aphrodisiac, he was absolutely ravishing.

A true apparition.

You came out of the icy cold shower still as hot and bothered. It had absolutely no effect whatsoever! You felt yourself trembling with such lust and desire you never felt before! So much so that you considered bashing your head in the wall a viable option.

You gulped and re-entered the bedroom to discover Thrawn laying on the bed, his black jacket nonchalantly thrown on the desk, is white chemise halfway undone, revealing toned pecs to your gaze.

Oh dear Maker, that will be a trial, is it not?

He raises back in a sitting position at your arrival, restrained relief painted on his face.

“Lieutenant commander.I trust the shower was beneficial.”

“No...” You reveal, “Not at all.”

He looked at you with a closed expression.

“That is unfortunate news.” He simply said, “Those effects might last hours, we are in no shape to pursue our mission like that.” He held his chin in his fingers, searching for a solution.

Like it wasn’t evident enough...

None of you two wanted to say it but you both knew what was going to happen was inevitable.

“Listen.” You initiated action, “We are both adults. Let’s get done with it, the sooner we get to it, the sooner it will end.” You came next to him, taking his hand in yours.

He looked at you intently with a mixed expression of surprise and... shock.

“I do not think this is a good idea, Lieutenant Commander.”

“You have another idea?”

He turned his head away from your gaze, admitting his lack of resources in such a situation. You smiled at him, squeezing his hand gently.

“Come on, Commandant. A man of your experience surely isn’t afraid of a simple woman?” You joked, laughing in the hope of relaxing the atmosphere, “Your collection of lovers must be impressive, what’s one more to your body count?”

He sighed, ruffling his hair, his head in his palm, clearly displeased.

Okay, ouch?

“Okay, I’m maybe not to your taste but no need to look so disgusted.” You laughed acidic.

“No, (Y/n), no. You truly are a beautiful woman and any man would be honored to have a chance with you, but...”

“But?”

“I...” He started, looking at you with some despair you never saw in his eyes before sighing, “I have never been intimate with anyone before.”

You remained mute at that news, your eyes wide open and mouth agape.

A full minute passed looking at each other, you absolutely dumbfounded by that revelation and him awaiting your reaction, hoping you would go easy on him.

“I do not believe you for a second.” You finally left out

Him? A virgin? Mister handsome face, smooth voice, and sculpted body? Mister dy humor gentleman? This was not possible. You couldn’t believe nobody never tried to sink their teeth in the meal he could offer! Granted he is not the smoothest in social situations, but still! You saw some real pieces of shit collecting suitors, why not him?

“That is the truth nonetheless.” He softly insisted, his breathing worsening again.

“But... How?” You asked flabbergasted.

He shrugged like your question made no sense at all.

“It simply never happened. I never pursued such intimacy in my life.”

“And nobody ever proposed to you? I find it really hard to believe.”

“Why?”

Was this man for real?

“You are handsome and carved by the gods! Maybe a little aloof but you care and you have delicate dispositions. A lot of people with way less to offer get asked regularly! And you tell me you had no opportunity ever? Sorry but no, that’s not adding up.”

He looked at you with rounder and rounder eyes.

“Nobody ever referred to me in such terms.” He just said, surprised. “I never knew you looked at me in such a way either...”

You cleared your throat, calculating your error.

“I just find it hard to believe, that’s all...” You tried to save yourself.

“I never took someone to bed before and never intended to. At least not in the immediate future.” He corrected himself “I never saw my fellow beings in such light. I never felt this urge before.” He explained, gulping in his discomfort.

“Well... I’ll agree with you this is not the most romantic setting for a first time.” You conceded “You want to try and wait?” You proposed.

You’re not about to force someone to sleep with you, aphrodisiac or not. He seemed to weigh the pros and cons, before straightening his back and rolling his head like he was preparing himself for a trial.

“We have a mission to accomplish, Lieutenant Commander. If we must go through it to become operative again... This is our duty to act on it.” He said assertively.

How romantic...

You spin your seated position to face him fully.

“Alright. Let’s go.” You agree.

He looked at you intently, like he was expecting more reluctance or shyness on your part. You looked back in his eyes unashamed.

You were torn on your end, in some way you were really glad you got a chance with Thrawn, he always was to your taste, both body and mind. On the other side, what kind of fucked up setting was that?

“I am going to kiss you, Lieutenant Commander.” He announced with a trembling tone.

His hand tentatively came cupping your cheek. His palm was deliciously warm and his skin soft and smooth. Your mind immediately wandered to the rest of his body, is he as soft everywhere? You mentally shook your head.

He very slowly approached his lips to yours, stopping only a mere centimeter away. You could feel his jerked breath on your lips and waited for him to close the gap, you wanted to go at his rhythm, letting him set the pace. That was the least you could do for him.

You reopened your eyes when he still didn’t kiss you yet. What is he waiting for?

“Thrawn?” You gently called.

“Yes?” He said, but the hesitation in his tone was apparent.

“Did you ever kiss someone before?” You asked softly, trying to get him to open up.

He breathed deeply.

“Once. And it was a disaster.”

“Do you want me to show you?”

“I... Yes, Lieutenant Commander. Your experience in this field is superior to mine.”

You snorted.

“Okay, one thing. Drop the ranks. We are friends and we are in this situation together. Call me by my name.”

He shaked his head.

“That would be disrespectful of me.”

“I’m going to be frank with you: the ranks make me uncomfortable right now. Let's use our names, it will make things easier.”

His lips stretched into a fine line. Clearly, he is not comfortable at all.

“Very well. I will trust you on that.” He conceded.

“Nice. Close your eyes, Thrawn. Let me show you how is it done.” You whispered.

You looked at him breathing through his nose and closing his eyelids. You gently took his gorgeous face in your hands and kissed his lips tenderly. You kept it chaste, just trying to get him to relax a little.

And he did. He started to respond to the kiss, not trying to take command or anything, simply testing the waters and the limits of this intimate act. You pecked his lips again and pushed your tongue inside to meet his, he let you explore as you wanted, focusing on his breath. Your tongues danced together, hugging each other, gently brushing and teasing each other.

When you reopened your own eyes you realized you were lying on top of him, both breathless, your hand disheveling his hair and your lips swollen. He opened his eyes slightly, letting only a ray of red light peak as he tried to get back his breath. You smiled comfortingly at him, gently caressing his sharp cheek.

“Was it better?” You asked.

“It was a completely different experience.” He admitted, his heart beating fast against yours, “Could we try it again?”

“Of course.” You chuckled.

And one thing leading to the other you relieved each other of the pain and discomfort of the aphrodisiac. Thrawn proved himself an inexperienced but eager-to-learn student. You kept things vanilla, only leading the dance for him to find his steps and it was a very pleasurable experience.

He kept asking if you would like it if he touched you there, if it would increase your pleasure if he tried this movement, willing to experiment. He was cautious of any new act before rapidly getting the gist of it and enjoying himself. You almost thought he would stop you when you lowered himself to give him head but he trusted you and let you guide him in the sea of pleasure he felt for the first time in his life!

You rarely took care of virgins and tried your best to make it enjoyable for him. You rode him slowly, letting him appreciate the feelings of his cock getting squeezed by a pussy for the first time, he held on to your hips desperately, throwing his head back in the pillow with breathy moans. He let you lead the way without any fuss, obeying your instructions like a good soldier.

You will humbly admit you lost a little of your control when you bit down his shoulder. You swear it was unintentional, you were simply kissing his neck as you lazily rode him, pressing your two bodies together when your instincts ordered you to bite down that beautiful blue flesh.

The lecherous gasp that escaped him... You almost lost it all at that moment.

“Do it again.” He breathed, “Please, (Y/n), bite me again.” He almost begged in his daze, pushing your head down the crook of his muscular neck.

No need to ask you twice!

He uncontrollably cummed inside your pussy as your teeth sank back into his skin. He apologized profusely, asking for your forgiveness when you just had difficulties not exploding laughing! Of course, you were on birth control, with a sex life as active as yours it was imperative. You calmed him down with an amused smile, easing his worries.

You felt way better and Thrawn too! For two minutes top before the effects came back with a vengeance...

His face turning back in his flustered purple shade he took your hand, trembling, and asked you if you minded staying a little longer to keep him company while he waited for them to go away...

Wishful thinking...

You never got to come back to the ballroom, spending the night in each other embrace, having sweet and lazy sex, letting him discover the limits and discovering what he was into together.

He held you close in your sleep, a faint purr resonating in his throat as he hugged you close.

You awoke the next morning to Thrawn gently caressing your cheek.

“How was it?” You asked, “Do you feel better?”

“It was... An unexpectedly good experience.” He gently smiled at you. “I thank you for teaching me, it was truly enlightening.”

“I am just a little sad you had to experience like that with me. You should have had the right to discover it with a lover, in better circumstances.” You responded a little demoralized for him.

It was not in your right to take his first time, he should have had the choice of his partner.

“In retrospect, I am glad it was you.” He confessed, kissing your knuckles “I trust you with my life, my friend. It was the best scenario possible.”

You smiled, a bit relieved.

None of you spoke to Eli about that mission and you tried to keep it cool and relaxed between you two, but none of you could resist looking at the other a little longer, brushing your two hands almost inadvertently, hugging just a little longer than most friends do...

The tension kept rising until one day Thrawn invited you for your regular Shah-tezh game and you ended up spending it doing something completely different than Shah-tezh, kissing each other on the small bed of his cabin, waving your body on his...

“Ch’acah?”

You shake your head, Thrawn’s melodious voice calling you back to the present moment with him in shibari knots and on his knees for you.

“Is there a problem?” He asks gently, looking at you with a hint of worry in his gorgeous red eyes.

You smile brightly and lower yourself to kiss him, holding him by the throat.

“Nothing is wrong, big boy. I was just thinking back to our first times.”

He purrs in the kiss, eagerly kissing you back.

“We were clumsy back then.” He noted a touch of amusement in his voice.

Indeed you were! They were pretty pathetic and hilarious, to be honest. Your errors were naive but genuine, both experimenting and discovering each other limits and boundaries.

“Do you remember how you destroyed your first harness with sheer strength?” You wonder.

“You told me to resist.”

You burst out laughing at that memory, caressing his handsome face.

“I wanted you to resist for the roleplay! Not to literally break free of your bonds.”

This harness was just a piece of crap anyway! You were trying restraints for the first time as Thrawn suggested to test it, in retrospect choosing the first price wasn't a bright idea.

Witnessing Thrawn breaking free of his leather restraints so unexpectantly you started laughing uncontrollably. Like damn, it was so sexy but that was so off-script it threw you off your rhythm and you ended up rolling on the bed, holding your stomach with Thrawn looking at you confused.

To be fair he didn’t expect the harness to break down so easily either...

Now you have way better products, but deep down you know he could break them too with a musculature like his. And you would love that, for sure!

Ten years later, you are still a couple and going strong despite everything thrown at you!

You peck his nose.

“Do you want me to free you, big boy?”

“Yes ma’am.” He purrs, brushing his nose with yours. “Please.”

You kneel and take off your necklace holding a small key and open the chastity cage around his cock, relieving the tension in his impressive member. He lets out a sigh of relief and you gently stroke his length up and down, not enough to give him an erection, just enough to get rid of any discomfort after so long.

“How much time did you last, big boy?”

During your last session he wanted to keep it on, preventing him from getting an erection. You try to see how far you can push his limits, testing his resilience.

“5 months, ma’am.”

Damn! 5 months in this contraption? No masturbation nor penetration, you couldn’t hold on that long in his place.

Let’s not even talk about your difficulty finding a cage accommodating his length and girth... A real headache!

But he loves the sexual frustration it gives him, the feeling of relief when he finally gets to enter you after a long period in his cage is like anything else he told you. Every sensation gets enhanced and sublimed, giving him even more pleasure.

Thrawn isn’t even that into sex and sexual release in the first place. He just loves to submit, it helps him relax, emptying his well-ordered mind to blindly follow orders without a second thought. Someday he just likes you tying him down in shibari knots and going about his day with the compression of the cords under his clothes for the whole day.

The simple act of tying the cords around his body and creating art is enough for him, it is intimate enough to his taste, no need to get down and dirty.

Not to say he neglects your own needs, not at all! He bought you plenty of toys and loves to go down on you, he simply doesn’t feel the urge to go all the way. If you ask him to help to masturbate he will gladly take some time off his busy schedule to indulge you. Sometimes you just want him to observe how you fuck yourself on your toys, he sits down in his favorite chair and doesn’t lose a crumb of the spectacle, complimenting you on your stamina and beautiful expressions as you pleasure yourself, addressing you in your favorite titles.

Sometimes he will join and finger you like you taught him to do, sometimes he will remain an enthusiastic spectator.

“It allows me to learn how you prefer to be touched.” He let you one day know when you asked him if he even liked to watch you going at it while he did nothing, imprisoned in his cage, “I experience a facet of sex I do not usually live through, and it is simply a beautiful sight to witness, Ch’acah. I love watching and hearing you giving yourself pleasure.” He reassured you.

You regularly hold “meetings” together in your suite to propose new ideas and new kinks, sometimes you just want to make a show of the new leather corset you bought. Sometimes you just talk about your last experiences, what you liked and would prefer to do differently, both lying on the bed, looking into each other eyes, caressing hands.

Vulnerable and sensitive.

Simply intimate... Close to one another.

But from time to time he does appreciate going all the way with you. You are the only one in the universe who got to see this part of him and you are thankful for that.

You stand back up and present him with your shoe.

“Kiss.” You order, your hands on your hips.

He leans forward and reverently kisses your shoe, pecking the diamond adorning it before giving it a lick, slowly reaching your ankle, and kissing his way up your leg. You close your eyes, appreciating the sensation of his lips on your flesh.

He stops at your knee and looks up at you with a puppy look you were shocked he had. He hugs your leg while looking at you already entering subspace with a dazed expression. He can enter it so rapidly, looking at you with such a ravishing expression, his red eyes shining brighter in the dim light. He kisses your knees, looking into your eyes with eyes half-closed, a slight moan escaping his mouth.

“You are handsome, do you know that?” You asks with a satisfied sigh.

Of course he knows, you never lose an occasion to tell him.

“Thank you, ma’am. You are magnificent yourself.” He whispers.

You caress his hair, brushing his ear with your thumb.

“You promise to be good?”

“Yes, anything to please you, Ma’am.” He breathes softly.

“On the bed, big boy.”

He stands up instantly and lays on the bed obediently. You let the tip of your fingers dance on his legs, from his foot to his hip, drawing little patterns on his muscles until you take his cock in your hand and gently stroke it. You play with his tip, circling his crown with your thumb. He hisses and whimpers under your touch, all his sensations multiplied by his time in the cage.

“Will you tie me down?” He gasps, “Please, ma’am?”

“Not yet, my big boy. Wait a little more.” You promise him.

You lean forward to kiss his tip already leaking pre-cum. You hop on the bed and throw your leg on the other side of his head, looking down at him, hovering over his face.

“First I want you to put your mouth to good use, alright?”

He nods, his hands already coming to grope your hips and inviting you down towards his eager lips. You sit down comfortably on his face and he immediately gets to work, licking your pussy voraciously.

How he loves that...

You hold onto the frame of the bed, to not completely suffocate him. Not that he would mind. You can feel his flexible wet tongue trailing your slit conscientiously, licking up and down as he digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips. He makes indecent sounds, getting his fill of your sex. He gently kisses your pussylips and starts focusing on your clit, sucking on it, making it roll between his blue lips.

A shudder strikes through your entire body, shaking your entire being between his hands. You throw your head backward, mouth open under the pleasure.

Damn! He’s so good at it!

You feel your stomach muscles contracting under his care and the fire between your legs spreads through your veins, teasing your nerve endings.

“Good. Keep going, Ch’acah.” You praise, “AH! Do not stop!”

“Of course, ma’am.” He docilely answers.

He resumes his diligent work, playing with your pearl, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. He suddenly gives a long lick with the flat of his tongue from one end of your slit to the other. You can feel your wetness dripping off you, and he opens his mouth wide open to receive it on his tongue, a purr of raw satisfaction emanating from him. He drinks it down greedily, gulping your essence down his throat with glee.

He forces your hips down further against his face, asphyxiating himself between your thighs. You try to raise your hips to not choke him but he firmly holds you in place against his swollen lips.

“Do you enjoy my pussy, my sweet?” You investigate with a voice dripping with pleasure.

“Yes, ma’am, a lot.” He asserts “I absolutely love it.”

He goes back to licking you without missing a bit, kissing and sucking avidly. Your legs start trembling under the bliss you are feeling coursing through your limbs.

“Fuck!” You cannot help but curse as he suddenly gives short and quick licks at your clit, darting his tongue, flicking it rapidly.

You feel your slick and his drool rolling down his jaw and your thighs. Your hands leave the bedframe to seize his head, griping his hair desperately as you ride his tongue and mouth furiously. He keeps drinking your sweet nectar, his purrs growing louder and louder.

You gasp his name as you cum, squirting in his mouth, a shudder shaking your entire body. Thrawn’s body quivers as you feel his hands squeezing your hips. You inadvertently press his face against your greedy pussy before promptly releasing him. You raise your hips to release the tension on his jaw but his head follows your movement, finishing to licking you clean.

You sit down on his stomach, sweaty and out of breath, as he licks his lips like he just ate a tasty dinner. His satiated expression sends new shivers down your core. He wipes his lips with a loud purr, looking at you bedazzled.

You lean forward to capture his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. He embraces you close in his arms as you lick his lips.

“Did you have fun, big boy?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” He kisses you back.

You sit back and turn to take care of his big cock when you notice a white, sticky substance soiling his lower stomach and the cords there. You look at it for a second, incredulously.

“Did you cum?” You ask stunned.

“Yes, ma’am. I could not control myself, I am sorry.”

You cannot refrain from snorting. He cummed licking your pussy, like you could ever get mad at him for that!

You swiftly peck the tip of his nose and leave the bed to head to the desk where all your accessories are waiting for you. You choose a bar gag and cuffs and come back to your lover.

Thrawn gives you his hands without you having to ask and you tie them together before tying them to the bedframe.

“Open your mouth, big boy.” You gently place the bar between his teeth and close it behind the back of his head.

It is just tight enough for him to be able to spit it out and pronounce his safe word if need be. The bar design also allows for better breathing and greater comfort. You mount him again and take his girth in your hand to align it with your entrance. You let yourself sink on it slowly, mouth open in a perfect ‘O’ as his shaft gently pushes past your flesh, invading your secret temple. Once fully seated your pussy is filled to the brim, you feel stuffed like always with him.

“You are soooo big, Ch’acah.” You praise, contracting your inner muscles to squeeze his cock and tease him. “You always fill me so much!”

He gasps, already on edge. He loves the compliments, the praises, your adoring tone when you refer to him... You hear him whimpering through the gag and he waves his hips, desperate for friction and delicious sensations.

“Impatient, are we?” You tease, making sweet circles with your hips to torture him.

He nods hurriedly, looking at you beseechingly. You can see the muscles of his throat contracting and relaxing repeatedly.

You place your hands on his large pecs, feeling his heart palpitating against your palm, and start riding him sloppily. His breath gets stuck in his throat and his muscles start rolling under his blue skin. His thick cock easily brushes every sweet spot inside you and you revel in the sensations.

You can feel his shaft already leaking pre-cum again, mixing with your essence and leaking on his loins. You rise up and down repeatedly, licking his pecs and throat as he mewls and whimpers on his gag. He eagerly meets your pace with his hips, increasing friction and rutting into you.

Your little pussy is stretched to the max, impaling yourself on his stupidly big cock. It is exactly like his body, long and thick and giving you so much pleasure. You accelerate your pace, sprinting after a new release together. You kiss his bumpy forehead, holding his gorgeous face between your hands, delicately caressing his temples.

He whines and pleads through the gag, waving his entire body under yours. He drools all over the gag, biting down the bar at the pleasure you give him.

“Sweet boy.” You whisper into his ear, “You are so good for me, Ch’acah. You are doing so great.”

You can feel his heart skipping a beat under your hand at the praise. It is quite satisfying to feel.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmh... You’re so good at it, my love. You were made for me, don’t you think?” You lick the outer shell of his ear.

He nods with a long moan, approving your words.

“Do you want to come inside?” You tease, “Do you want to fill me with your seed? Breed me?”

He jolts, his entire body contracting under yours, his breath short and heavy. He looks intently at you, fixed only on you, hoping you would let him finish inside.

He so longs for a little one of himself, a baby he could call his. A baby with you would simply be perfect! He discussed it with you several times already and you have been trying since then.

“I don’t know if you deserve it.” You bite, looking down at him, “You did come without my authorization after all...” you stop moving altogether.

Thrawn agitates himself in his restraints, threatening to break them again, scandalized at the idea of getting his right to breed you revoked, even just once. You observe him struggling with great interest and a sadistic smile.

After all not everything can be fun and game...

“Careful now...” You boop his nose playfully, “If you don’t behave I’ll pull you out and leave you here.”

He instantly stops, but he looks at you badly, infuriated, his breath short and quick. You squeeze his cock with your pussy, making him shudder in pure pleasure.

“You really want it, big guy?”

He nods again with an animalistic growl raising in his throat.

“Alright. But only because it is you.” You smirk. “And you better give me your all, mister!”

And you resume riding at high speed. It is a real workout out but seeing Thrawn crumble between your hands and thighs is such a sight! Your pleasure builds back up rapidly as Thrawn meets your pace with his hips, bullying his length inside you. You lay on his chest and bite down his neck harshly.

Thrawn cums in a flash, emptying himself inside your greedy pussy. It is so much, you can feel your tender tummy swole up with the quantity he offers you. Thrawn keeps going, feeling that you didn’t cum yet, his tip reaching your cervix with so much ease. You gently kiss him where you bit him, feeling him spurting hot ribbons of seed inside your womb.

You mewl your pleasure to encourage him before standing back on to ride him properly. With Thrawn eagerness to please you it doesn’t take long at all before you cum too, getting blinded by a white light, your toes curling deliciously. You shout Thrawn’s name, with no regard for who could hear you on the Chimaera before falling on him, exhausted.

You both remain still, breathless and hearts in a frenzy. You tiredly raise yourself to get rid of his gag and free Thrawn of bounds. He takes a deep breath, lying still. You open the drawer of your bedside table and take out a wipe and you clean his jaw and cheeks of his drool. You kiss his lips and nose tenderly.

“Are you all right, my love?” You observe his gorgeous face, eyes closed shut and hair disheveled “Do you want something? A glass of water? A bath?” You ask to ease his descent from subspace and orgasm.

You feel his long arms wrapping around your form, embracing you tight.

“Just allow me to remain inside for another moment, Ch’acah.” He demands, burying his head in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent.

“As you wish, Thrawn. Tell me if you need anything.”

“Hug me tight. That would be a great start.” He proposes kissing your neck gently.

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay, @obbicrystaleo, @germie2037

#thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo #thrawn smut #fanfic #vibratingskull

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unicorncornflakes · 9 months

Text

Little One - Story AU! | Chapter 8

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (Coming soon)

Paring: Reader x Aemond Targaryen.

Summary: You are the only daughter of Jacaerys Velaryon, future lord of the tides. After the victory of Aegon and his side in the war, your family suffers the rejection in Driftmark. There you must always give an account to the king's new hand, Aemond Targaryen. However, when the time comes, Aegon and his court claim you as Queen Helaena's lady-in-waiting. As a new piece of the Greens' strategy to coerce your father, you are taken to King's Landing to begin your life in high society. Aemond will be, much to his pleasure, in charge of guiding you in this new stage.

Tags: Alternate Universe/ Enemies to Lovers/ Emotional Hurt/Comfort Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st, at some points.

Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @bluevxnus @tempt-ress @bellameshipper @qyburnsghost @croatianprincess @hopeless-addiction-love @unnisumi

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Acknowledgment: To @ammo23 for the brilliant corrections and the wonderull work as beta reader, for all the patience and the love that always shows for my writing and for all the time that dedicates to this series. Thank you so much :D

Word Count: 3.5K

"You can choose any of the two sets. Think carefully about which one you're going to wear today." Corlys smiled at you as he returned his attention to his breakfast. You were hesitantly admiring the two sets of jewels that Mistra had opened before you. An austere and discreet set in grey quartz, earrings and necklace. Another showy and exuberant amber: a necklace with a huge medallion, long and ethereal earrings, a ring and even a bracelet. Lord Gargalen must have pawned half of his little fief to buy such jewellery. He must have wanted with all his might that you would choose his son. Rickon Stark had handwritten a note to accompany his jewellery, saying that you didn't need much more to show off your beauty. Both were the current candidates for your hand, and that was just the beginning of a war of entertainment that both young men intended to maintain without rest until you made up your mind.

"Can I choose it after I have breakfast?" you asked without much force. Actually, you were tired. You had spent well into the morning reading that old book to Aemond. He had remained silent, admiring and contemplating you while occasionally raising his glass of wine to his lips. Finally, he had accompanied you to your chambers late at night and as you both were wrapped in the cloaks that he always used to leave the palace. He had made it through the passages of the Red Keep and had shown you the shortest way to his rooms through them.

He had told you that you had a very beautiful diction and had raised his hand to your face as he opened the secret door behind one of the looms in your room,the one that had been painted of a tired old dragon resting on a placid hill. Your skin crawled as you remembered how Aemond had waited patiently for you to close it. And, although you did not know it, the alcohol had managed to make him believe that you would let him enter your rooms that very night. He had come the same way back with a terrible erection that had used to come in between his sister's legs. At least that heat would serve to try to make a new heir.

"Of course, choose after breakfast," your grandfather ordered Mistra to leave with a quick movement of his hand, and the old maid obeyed, closing both cases and leaving the room. Corlys knew she would go straight to inform Aemond.

Both suitors began to play hard, and that was exactly the information that the sea serpent wanted to get to the hand of the king. Without Mistra in the room, your grandfather took out a small bottle that he placed in front of you on the table. You looked at it without really knowing what you had before you. You looked at him again, confused, and the old sailor sighed.

"It's moon tea. I wouldn't want him to get you pregnant," he commented as he began to eat in silence, and you blushed and looked elsewhere. Your grandfather knew. You knew where you had been the night before, but you had imagined too much. Corlys knew where you'd been. That white cloak who had accompanied you, still loyal to the blacks, had informed him as he had left you in Aemond's chambers. It had been a brazen move on the one-eyed man's part, but Corlys wasn't going to reveal his cards so quickly. For that very reason, he had made Mistra retire with new information that would arrive calculated at the king's hand. He knew that Aemond would be dying of jealousy when he found out about the jewelry that both suitors had given you.

"We didn't make love," you whispered, embarrassed, holding the skirt of your dress tightly, and Corlys was surprised by the words you had used to refer to such an act with that monster. Did Aemond know what love was? No, definitely not. Corlys was sure that the prince was not capable of making love to anyone because he was not capable of loving anyone else. "We only read together until late," you replied, not daring to look at your grandfather. You remembered how Aemond had read the High Valyrian parts of the book. You had watched him with fascination while he gloated at seeing how your eyes contemplated him in silence. Brilliant and precious.

"I find it hard to believe you only read," Corlys replied. He didn't doubt you. He doubted Aemond. Taking such a young girl to his chambers just to… read? That had no place in your grandfather's mind. At the end of the day, you were still enemies. "If he did something to you, you can tell me. I'm not going to judge you," he said, trying to reassure you. He knew what one could think of a raped woman, but you only answered incredulously at his words.

"We only read. I swear," you reiterated. It had been a reality check. Anyone who knew that you had visited so late would think the same thing as your grandfather: you had slept together. You felt ashamed. At the end of the day, you knew the weight of the judgment that was on women who slept with a man outside of marriage. "He didn't touch me." you whispered. And a quick thought crossed your mind; You wouldn't have minded if he touched you. You punished yourself again for such a thought. "He asked me to go and read to him every night, that I would assist him like this," you confessed to your grandfather.

"He's a strange man, even when he was young," your grandfather commented as he leaned back in his chair and looked out at the sea. This new turn benefited him in part for his plans. Aemond brought you closer to him without knowing that Corlys was planning to make you one of his main pieces on that board that he had also started playing on. As if it were chess, you were one more pawn for your grandfather. To Aemond, you were the queen, even if he refused to see it.

"Don't wear either of the two pieces of jewellery. I want him to think that you cared about your meeting with him," he ordered as he stood up with difficulty. "It's a pity you don't have sapphire jewellery. If you had dressed with that today…" he mused aloud while you partly breathed in relief.

You didn't want to wear Rickon's outfit any more than you wanted to wear Trystane Gargalen's. The first one, you had not even noticed his presence, while the second one always strutted around like a peacock in your presence. You believed the words Aemond had spoken to you the night before. None of them were worthy of you. It would never be. You needed a different man.

"I could... wear the first dress that Aemond gave me, the green one he gave me in Driftmark," you offered your grandfather as a solution to what you didn't quite know what he was thinking. You looked at him with your eyes wide and awake, more than ever, while he raised an eyebrow inquisitively. You had called the king's hand by his name without further ado, without reference or any title. Your subconscious was betraying you, and the words you used were proof of it. That worried him, but the sea serpent wanted to believe that you would not forget your loyalty to your family. That was impossible.

"No. That would be too cheeky, and you would lose interest from both Stark and Gargalen," your grandfather answered, and you bit your inner cheek. You felt useless. Corlys' thought, you would always continue being something too innocent and without evil that would not serve todevise the strategies, only to be one more piece.

His final reward for you would be to marry either of those two boys. After all, they both seemed crazy about you. Any choice would be the right one, although your grandfather preferred the northerner. His influence would be greater if a war broke out and he married you. Gargalen thus became a simple puppet on which Aemond vented all his jealousy in the tournament. You would end up controlling the prince. The sea serpent was sure of it. You would control it and deliver the final blow. "Today is the final tournament. I want you to sit by his side again and laugh, say thank you, caress his hand, give him your best sidelong glance..." You blushed at your grandfather's audacity. "…but, be discreet."

"I don't know how to do those things," you whispered. You wanted to do each and every one of those things, but you knew it wasn't right. Aemond was the murderer of half your family, and you didn't understand why your grandfather asked you to do those things. It was something indecent, prohibited and dishonest.

"Of course, you know how to do them. You are already a woman." Corlys was relentless in his words and brought you back to a reality that your father had tried to hide from you out of fear; you were already a woman, and you could awaken both the good and the bad in any man.

"My ass is starting to hurt from sitting here," Aegon complained bitterly as he sat down to watch the last of the tournament days in his honour. Beside him, Helaena, holding Aemond's hand, stood beside him in worrying silence. With each passing day, the queen's weakness and self-absorption began to show more, and the king's hand was glad that this was the last day. He didn't think the queen could last another day like this without breaking.

"At least the views are beautiful," the king commented sarcastically as he looked straight ahead and watched you and, Jaehaera and Mariam leaning against the balustrade of the box and waiting for the tournament to begin. "You could bring her to my chambers tonight. As a reward for how well I've behaved these days," Aegon smiled macabrely just as Aemond passed by. The king watched in amusement as his brother tried to ignore him as he made his way to his seat below the king. He clenched his fist as his brother listened. Aegon would always know what key to play, even if Aemond considered himself such an extremely cold being.

You were still supported watching the participants of that day when you noticed Aemond's presence. You only told Jaehaera that you would watch the tournament from your seat that day and elegantly went to your place next to Aemond. That day your grandfather had sat a few seats away talking to the coin counselor, pretending he was interested in what he owed and trying to give you and Aemond more privacy.

You smiled at him with a slight nod and sat down next to him. You saw a small smile of triumph at the corner of the lip of the king's hand. You knew it was because you weren't wearing any of the jewellery they had sent you that morning, and the one-eyed man raised his glass to his lips before speaking to you. His only eye fixed on you while you sat by his side under the watchful eye of the princess. Jaehaera wasn't stupid, at least not as stupid as her uncle. He narrowed his eyes and sat back in his seat. He wanted to find out what you were talking about.

"You look very beautiful this morning, Lady Velaryon," Aemond fawned as you chuckled sweetly, looking straight ahead. A smile that could have been faked, as your grandfather thought it was from the side of his eye, but it wasn't. You liked that he had told you that "Iksā sīr gevie " he whispered to you in High Valyrian. He himself had seen how your eyes lit up when you heard him speak it the night before. You blushed without knowing what he had said.

"I envy you, my prince," you whispered back, and he leaned back so he could better hear your whispers. Seen from the outside, you almost looked like a couple in love,and you were surprised at the game that you had started almost unconsciously. You saw Aemond cross his legs and clear his throat. Little did you know of masculine nature, but Aemond had only crossed his legs to avoid showing something going on in his body every time you complimented him or just stared at him. "I wish I knew as much as you." You saw how the prince smiled, satisfied at such a compliment, and although you didn't see it, Jaehaera sighed and rolled her eyes. This was a very simple flirtation, but the princess did not think that either you or Aemond knew much about flirting.

"Today I have selected a legend from Ancient Valyria for our reading tonight," he whispered in your ear without giving any reaction, although he had spent a good part of his breakfast looking for that book that he remembered only having read once before. The night before, you had read about dragons. Tonight, he would indulge you, and you would read a love story.

Women liked those things, and after all, it was reading. That was what Aemond said to himself as he took the book that morning and left it in his chambers. You wouldn't sleep together that night, but you'd like that book. He was sure of it. Those days without your presence had helped him realize how much he wanted you. He wanted to treat you, at least for the moment, to show himself as the gentleman he had never been to any lady, although his mind repeated over and over again how ridiculous he looked. He was older than you, and he was playing distraction when it was more than obvious that he wanted much more than for you to just read to him at night. For now, he would settle for just that.

"I'm only counting the moments until tonight arrives," you told him sincerely, with shining eyes, as if that moment in which you were reading together was the only safe moment of the day where you didn't feel defenseless or insecure. Aemond liked what he had seen in your face, and he only looked ahead satisfied and proud, as if his grand strategy of having taken you for a simple night to read with him had worked. You looked ahead and, following your grandfather's orders, timidly brushed your hand with his as you placed them on your lap. You saw him smirk even more.

"Me too," he said again, pursing his lips, completely absorbed in the triumph that he himself was taking over you. At that moment, the last day of the tournament began, and the king, as always, wished the participants luck. Aemond tensed again when he heard his older brother's voice, and you looked at your grandfather again with a serious face. Corlys nodded in satisfaction and again saw Jaehaera watching you intently as you looked straight ahead.

The tournament began without any apparent surprise. Daeron won every joust he entered that day. He dedicated each victory to the princess, who accepted them with graceful and subtle nods. Trystane Gargalan had also managed to qualify for that last day, and you saw him always appear on his small and light steed, rearing up as he charged his opponents. He had also dedicated every victory of that day to you. Aemond had tensed each time you had risen to thank him, and if things could still get better for the prince, a young man in northern garb stood before you.

Hands in front of you and clasped together, Rickon Stark stood before you. At least you assumed it was him. You looked at your grandfather quickly, but the old man was now with who you assumed to be Cregan Stark. They both laughed, and you saw Aemond clench his jaw as the young northerner, always short on words, continued in front of you.

"My lady. I was wondering if I could sit next to you," You heard him say with his thick northern accent, and you saw how Aemond tensed even more. You swallowed hard. At one point, your mouth was dry, and you didn't know what to say to such an offer. You were just about to say something when your grandfather appeared on the scene.

"I hope the hand of the king will excuse the intrusion of such a young boy." Corlys laughed as Aemond ignored him, almost ignoring you again. He got up again and disappeared like the day your grandfather had praised young Gargalen at length. You only seemed disappointed to see how Aemond left, and the young Stark only noticed your disappointment and discomfort.

He, too, began to feel uncomfortable. Undoubtedly, he did not expect that reaction from the woman that his father himself had told him would be his wife. Cregan Stark introduced himself and his son, and you smiled warmly and politely. Your grandfather suggested that you be left alone, and Cregan Stark sat next to your grandfather and the councilors while Rickon took the place next to you, but not Aemond's place. The king's hand would have to return at some point, wouldn't it? You consoled yourself by telling yourself that he would show up. You realized at that moment that Rickon had bruised knuckles and a black eye. Little did you know of the confrontation he had had the night before, but Rickon Stark hoped to crush Trystane's hopes when he saw the two of you sitting next to each other. It wasn't just about you anymore; it was about how the southerner had nearly knocked him out in front of all his men the night before.

"You didn't like the jewelry?" he asked seriously, in a tone very similar to the one the princess always used. They were the boys who had seen the war. Rickon was very similar in age to Jaehaera and was not given to partying or having fun. His tone of voice was the sign of a maturity reached too soon. "I thought you would wear it today," he answered honestly. He had watched you every day of the tournament from a distance. He had seen you laugh with your friends. Deal with the queen and chat with your grandfather. He had been your fiancé from the day you were born until the victory of the greens, and he thought you knew of his existence, although nothing could be further from the truth. "It was a simple set, but…"

"It was very nice, thank you very much, my lord," you replied with a smile, and Rickon smiled back or at least with an attempt at being as cheerful as he could be.

"It is very strange that grey quartz crystallizes," he began by saying, explaining the process of those stones that he had selected for you. He was a nice, simple and humble man. It wasn't like Gargalen, but it wasn't like Aemond either. He was a boy raised harshly in the north, where he explained to you during the tournament that it wasn't that bad either. He told you about the many benefits of his home, and he assured you that you would feel more than comfortable. You kept watching the tournament between each of the things Rickon told you about Winterfell.

You continued to watch the tournament, and all you thought about was how much you missed Aemond. The young Gargalen appeared in one of the final matches. His smile faltered at that moment when he saw you next to Rickon. Hadn't he hit the northerner hard enough the night before to explain who you were from? The young southerner spurred his horse hard and determined that he would win this tournament. He would name you the queen of love and beauty. How could you not marry the man who gave you such a title? You weren't wearing his jelwellery, but you weren't wearing anything to indicate that you'd accepted Rickon's betrothal, either.

However, Trystane was young and perhaps too impulsive. He wanted to impress you. He was sure he had been doing it all morning, but at that moment, he wanted it even more. Forcing his horse to the limit, he charged at his opponent, exploding his wooden spear against that Tyrell's shield. You looked at him in amazement, annoying Rickon with your attitude, but it was just as always because of the technical display of that young boy. For a moment, you imagined that it was Aemond himself who was duelling to name you the beauty queen of that tournament. But all the fantasy disappeared when his opponent dismounted him. A huge roar was heard in that arena while the young man fell to the ground with all his weight. His armor creaked. And even you got up from your seat to see if he was okay. You heard the king's laughter right behind you. Even Rickon got up from his seat to see that the young southerner was okay.

Ser Gargalen, the young man who had dreamed of winning in your name, struggled to his feet, ashamed and dejected. The only thing that gave him hope was seeing your worried face as he left the lists helped by his squire. Seeing your face, he only thought of a plan for the two of you that night. He couldn't name you a beauty queen, but you would be one with his heart if everything went well. Trystane Gargalen was a fool who thought too much about fairy tales, just another side of the same thing that Rickon Stark was, even if he boasted that he wasn't.

That night, you would find out why.

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine

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darknessisafriend · 2 months

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Commodus the whore of the Empress Part 4 Commodus x Reader

I never planned to make another part of this wonderful story but suddenly a few ideas popped up. So, I hope you will enjoy it! less smutty than the previous chapters but a lot of erotic tension there with a touch of angst ;)

For the newbies this is an imagine of a AU where Commodus falls from grace, you become Empress and he becomes your pleasure slave. However things are not so easy. (link to part 1, 2 ; 3 here)

Months passed as you kept enjoying your slave. Now people had forgotten the fallen emperor and only saw the slave, not even minding him as they crossed his path and perhaps that was a mistake, at least that’s what you had started thinking. Commodus was freely going around, sharing your bed every night, going unnoticed like any slaves except for his beauty, he was happy, it was obvious to you now, he had that peaceful air in his eyes, that discreet smile on his lips. It bothered you…he must have a plan in mind, something to run away, take back power even and you had to do something about it. You had to remind him who was in charge and what was his place.

“You asked to see me?” asked Commodus as he bowed his head at you as he always did. His face remained neutral as he felt a change in the atmosphere, he didn’t feel your warmth, he felt as if he was facing a wall.

“Indeed. I’ve realized we missed something truly important in your current status.” You announced, and nodded at a man he hadn’t noticed. The man was richly dressed and yet his hands were covered in dark smudges, coal perhaps, he was probably a blacksmith. Commodus widened his eyes as he saw that the man held an iron collar in his hands with a tag in the middle, like any slave collar of the Roman Empire; on it could be read: If I flee, return me to my master, Emperess Y/N.

He looked at you and then back at the collar and then at you again before dropping to his knees and deeply bowing “Thank you, my Empress.” He said fervently, earning a frown from you and the blacksmith, never you had heard of a slave thanking such gesture. “Don’t be absurd. Let’s see if I have you branded with a hot iron will make you thank me.” You spat a threat, believing he was exaggerating to obtain your favors. You even put your foot on his crotch, making him retain a hum of pleasure.

“Still…I would feel honored to be branded with your name.” he replied with the same passion. You eyed him, your heart beating faster both in frustration and flatter, like a young girl under the power of love. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stand your ground, be harsh, a master and not a friend, so you cut short to the conversation.

“Enough. I have other matters to attend, go away.” You stated, waving at Commodus dismissively. You briefly made eye contact with him, you could read a certain confusion like a puppy who didn’t understand the situation and was simply begging for caresses.

The silence lasted for a few seconds as if he wanted to try to remain by your side like he usually did, ready to fulfill your every needs. But he soon understood you were being serious, you didn’t want his presence, maybe it was due to some political meeting, he thought. In that case his presence would be an insult to both parties.

The morning passed slowly; you had grown irritated on your way to the Senate. The absence of Commodus was cruelly felt; that man had managed to make himself indispensable to you and on purpose you thought; how could you have been so stupid as to let yourself being seduced by your worst enemy!? Let him share your bed? He could kill you anytime and he would surely attempt soon, once you would be blindly in love with him, perhaps after changing his political status.

A headache started splitting your skull as you listened to the incessant speeches of the senators. To the point you hadn’t noticed a presence, the clear eyes of Commodus watching you from the service corridor; he was worried. You disliked the senators as much he did, but he noticed something else was making thoughtful, upset. The slaves rarely entered the auditorium except to serve wine and a few necessities or wave a fan during high heat. However Commodus decided to enter, he had never done it since his fall, under your express order, most Senators had wished him dead and seeing him would feel like seeing a ghost threatening their lives. Usually, you secretly granted him to accompany you to watch, today you hadn’t seen he had come as well.

He silently approached, ignoring the scandalized look of some politicians, others terrified of him. He was carrying a bowl of hot water infused with herbs and a piece of cloth inside to apply to your head and sooth the pain.

You didn’t notice his presence at first “No. The pleb wellbeing matters to me and the money we invest on that will be rewarded by their loyalty and economic growth of the south of the city.” You stated, glad most senators had gone silent. Well, until you noticed it wasn’t related to your words. You turned your head in the direction of their gazes and saw Commodus waiting obediently by your side, a bowl of warm water in his hands. All colors left your face at first, what was he doing in front of the Senate!? tending to you as if you were some weak poor thing!?

“What. Are. You. Doing here?” you gritted your teeth, your cheeks turning red from anger, your heart racing from stress. You could feel everyone’s gaze on you, expecting a proper response, wondering what’s the next mistake you would make, anything to discredit you. Commodus only seemed to realize now that prioritizing your wellbeing over politics was a mistake, he had put you in an uncomfortable position. He blinked a few times and opened his mouth, but no words came out, no he had to do better. He dropped the bowl which splashed water all over him and threw himself on the ground, as low as he could, his forehead on the cold marble of the Senate…who knew he would ever bow in that damn building. A senator scoffed at the sight, satisfied to see the arrogant Commodus reduced to this.

“Get that…away from this sacred auditorium.” You snarled angrily, your chest filled with anxiety, your emotions as conflicted as ever, how much you should express your anger? How much should you control yourself?

“What a nice entertainment. I have to admit I enjoy this sight more than his dead body.” Commented Falco, making other Senators laugh. The man that you didn’t trust had actually helped you in that moment, turning this situation into nothing but a funny pause between debates. Commodus ignored the humiliations, what mattered now was to sooth you and he had made things worse! He kept his eyes on the ground as he was dragged back to the service area, receiving a hard push against the wall, a warning to not overstep again…

On your way back to the palace in the afternoon, you sat in the Lectica, a palanquin just big enough for you and another person, who turned out to be Commodus in that moment. You were looking out, behind the thin cotton curtains, anything but the one sitting in front of you, despite the hours passing after the incident. Commodus gaze was locked on you, expecting “I merely wanted to relieve your headache.” He said at first, his words making you groan in response.

“You came to stand in front of the Senators, you, that fallen Emperor, showing care for me. You think of it as normal task as a slave but to their eyes it is defiance to them, it shows I give you too much importance, trust. How long before they start saying that you are my lover? That you are the one speaking in the shadows and I am merely the mouth repeating your words?” you spoke in a hushed tone, yet your anger could be felt, you felt vulnerable, being a leading woman in Rome was hard already, you didn’t need this. You raised your hand before Commodus could answer “I do not want any excuse or lies from you. Cease to annoy me, I am starting to regret keeping you alive already.” You muttered, not seeing how his sorry gaze had turn into hurt, his knuckles turning white. Why that change of attitude from you? What had bug had stung you? He swallowed down, remaining silent for the rest of the trip, his mind searching his memories to try to find the precise gesture, care or even word that would have displeased you.

Once you reached the palace, you walked fast, wanting to isolate yourself, your emotions were taking over your rationality and that was something you tried to avoid, especially when it involved yourself. Commodus followed, back inside the palace he didn’t have to hide and intended on obtaining answers.

“Your Highness is there something I did wrong to anger you?” he asked clearly, making you slow down your pace, not looking at him ‘Stop pretending that you care’ you thought.

“I know what you are. Cut the act, no need to pretend anymore.” You stated instead, stopping, your back to him, you had heard him come to a halt a few steps behind you, but closer than a slave, more intimate. There was a silence for a few seconds, as if he was trying to understand your words.

“Pretend? Empress I am not pretending, I have never been h-…”

“Oh please stop!” you cut him off, squeezing your eyes and clenching your jaw ‘Drop your mask Commodus…make me hate you, it will be easier’ you prayed in your mind. “But what did you think Commodus?! That I care about you? That I feel some sympathy for your cause?! Leave.” You spoke angrily, refusing to look at him, your gaze would betray your inner turmoil too much. You walked again intending to go away for good.

But he grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks, the surprise gesture made you face him, revealing your teary eyes “Y/N aren’t you seeing you are becoming like me?! Paranoid and alone! That’s when you are becoming the weakest!” he exclaimed, he wanted to enlighten you, warn you of the danger. His expression softened the moment he saw your eyes, why were you on the verge of tears? You turned your head to gather yourself, then looking at him dead in the eyes, furious.

“You dare!” you yelled in front of slaves and guards, he had touched you, called you by your name, as equals. It was abnormal and the praetorians had instantly unsheathed their swords and approached, seizing him hard enough to make him let go of you, the pommel of the sword violently hitting his belly to make him kneel painfully. You panted, his gesture had scared you, and your ego was hit.

“I think I was too tender to my slave. Remind him of his status. 10 lashes.” You dropped under the emotion, anger, fear, pain mixing all together into an explosive adrenaline. Commodus face was livid as he was dragged to the stake reserved for corporal punishments et executions, a crowd of curious courtesans gathering to watch, the word of the flogging would the ears of all in few hours.

He panted as the rope around his wrists was tightly pulled, it was impossible for him to move. Except for a few beatings when he fell, he had never suffered any physical punishment, he was barely comprehending what was happening. He had only asked to understand what was happening to you, wanting to save you from the paranoia he had suffered, why did you punish him for it? You used to treat him with tolerance and kindness…had he been wrong from the start? Did he imagine things? Was he fooled by you just like he had been fooled by his father…? His trail of thoughts was cut short by the first hit of the whip, tearing away the air from his lungs, a surprised cry of pain escaping his mouth, followed by a groan as to try to recover but the second lash came already.

You watched the scene, conscious the Court was watching too, the Empress hurting the fallen emperor who had become a slave, showing to all he was indeed just a slave, nothing more to your eyes. Your fists were clenched, each crack of the whip resonating in your skull, your eyes filled with the bloody back of Commodus. You felt agony, dread, and power, your darkest self finding satisfaction while the other wanted to stop the slave master from accomplishing the task you had ordered.

Soon, Commodus grew quiet, too in pain to react, barely able to remain conscious, the reality of the situation had hit him way harder than the whip. You had ordered this. His legs gave up under his weight after the last hit.

Soon, the Court left, amused, satisfied by the sight and ready to spread word of the drama within the imperial palace. Only you remained and the slave master who joined you for the next orders. “Have the doctors treat his wounds, I want him back on his feet as soon as possible.” You hushed, the blood pumping in the ears of Commodus prevented him from hearing anything. The next thing he knew was that you were standing in front of him, one lash had split his lip open; you seized his jaw to look at him in the eyes.

You contained your surprise as you were met with an empty gaze clouded with pain, you had expected anger, fierceness. “You are only alive because I want to remind you how much you failed.” You spoke, your thumb erasing the blood trickling down his chin, and bring the drop to your lips, tasting him, wanting to provoke a reaction from him. “You belong to me Commodus, I have the right of life and death, of your pain and your pleasure…I had to do this. I hope you will understand later my decision. Sincerely.” You spoke, only for him to hear; he didn’t react, only looking at you in the eyes with an infinite air of betrayal. You leaned closer, kissing him roughly, tasting more of his blood which felt even more exquisite when a whimper died against your lips, despite everything Commodus was still yearning for your touch. You slowly parted, he was on the verge of passing out, his gaze even more filled with pain, yet you felt great pleasure in the power you had over him, he was indeed completely at your mercy, and you were the one in control, still. You grinned somehow reassure that you were still the master, that if you decided to fuck him right now, or to end his life, you could. However, his lips moved, pronouncing your name so weakly you couldn’t it. You saw his eyes still bore nothing else than pain and…devotion? doubt and guilt sprouted in your mind, was he right? Were you being touched by the same illness as his?

For the rest of the day Commodus laid in the infirmary, on his stomach, silent. The pain in his heart was stronger than the one of the torn flesh of his back. He couldn’t stop thinking about what happened, about you, and he hated it.

“One must be a fool to talk back to the Empress that way. Or desperate. And I believe you are not a fool.” Commented the doctor who took care of him, he had known him when he was Emperor and still treated him as such, never he had dared to call him by his name which is something Commodus regretted, that doctor was probably what he had the closest to a friend.

“I thought she cared about me, Galen…I thought we…” he murmured sadly, you hadn’t even let him explain himself.

“Just because a master appreciates the work of his slave doesn’t mean they care for the person behind it.” Replied Galen, looking at him with compassion. He was still seeing the young boy craving the approval of those he loved. Like a stray dog, wagging its tail when receiving a bone to chew after receiving a beating. “Listen, what I- your highness!” he interrupted himself standing up at your view and bowing in respect. He swallowed down, not knowing for how long you had stood there.

“How is he?” you asked, seeing Commodus’ hands clenching the bedsheets. You approached delicately laying your fingers on the sensitive and red skin of his back, goosebumps appearing at your contact, was it from anticipation? Pleasure?

“I would say that thankfully to the weakness of the slave master, the whip didn’t tear any muscle, mostly just the skin, deeply. He will need many weeks to recover fully, 6 weeks at least, the scars will remain forever. I apologize for not being able to do better and faster.” Bowed again Galen, probably the man didn’t know what to think of you, you had visited him very little after all. “He will be able to stand and do basic chores in about 3 days.” He added, hoping it was enough to satisfy you.

“It is fine. I do not need him for now.” You answer, your eyes detailing the body of your slave, you wanted to punish the slave master for hitting too low which ended up in scarring Commodus left butt cheek. Your fingers traced around it, slowly going up his back on the sensitive skin again but careful to avoid touching the deepest wounds. Your fingers ended up burying in his damp curls, Commodus was hiding his face in the crook of his arms, his breathing faster, you could feel his desire, his fear, or perhaps he was trembling of rage to have failed to betray you? you wanted to be sure of it “Commodus, look at me.” You commanded; your voice not as authoritative as you wished it to be. He unveiled his eyes, infinite sadness in them, confusion. “Talk freely.” You added, doubt stronger in your mind, you worried, had you done a terrible mistake?

“Your highness…I do not understand the sudden change in the way you treat me. Fine I overstepped earlier but I needed answers and I believe you didn’t tell me the whole truth.” He spoke first, his voice broken from the cries he let out during the flogging. “Yes, I hated you when you humiliated me with worse than an execution, turning me into a slave, all I wanted was to wait for the proper moment to kill you. Make you pay.” He admitted at first, but his easiness made you understand it was only a brief thought of his “When I did my best to serve you, earn your trust. I discovered something else…about myself.” He smiled bitterly as if he hated that part of him “I bloody enjoyed serving you. Receiving your orders, receiving a pat on the head when I did exceptionally good. I had to think of nothing but your satisfaction. I was alive, living in a palace, giving pleasure to a beautiful woman who offered me her protection…what a dream it turned out to be. Now, for no reason you take it all away. Was it all part of your plan? To give me an illusion of peace and happiness, to take it all away from me after, to watch me crumble...?” he asked, his voice slightly trembling. You were taken by surprise; you had expected him to admit he was planning treason but not the opposite. You found yourself unable to hold his gaze, you had to admit you had no more strength to face him.

“Thank you for your honesty, Commodus.” You articulated, turning you head which he took badly, his heart aching even more, you didn’t even grant him a look anymore, when he had been the most vulnerable, admitting how he felt. You quickly left the infirmary, practically running to your chambers. Once the doors closed, you leaned against it, a shaky breath escaping your mouth. You passed a hand over your face, your lower lip trembling as realization hit you, you had reacted excessively, paranoia had infected your mind…

In the middle of the night

The imperial palace was silent except for the cracking of the torches on the walls, the occasional wind on the light curtains, the yawning of a guard…

Commodus hadn’t fallen asleep for the whole time, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, about that last conversation with him, comforting his doubts that indeed you had just played him just like his father did. He clenched his jaw, the moon was high in the sky, it was time. He stood up with difficulty, his back ached and his skin irritated by the slightest movement. But he would take care of that later. First, he had to kill you.

He exited the infirmary, the half sleeping guards paid no attention to him, slaves go on and about freely at any time of the day to serve their masters and you had not instructed any restrictions for him. He walked with an assured step and went to your chambers. He quietly opened the doors, his movements precise, he was an excellent hunter after all. His heart skipped a beat as he didn’t find you asleep but sitting at your study, tired as you wrote under the candlelight.

Before you knew it, you felt a cold blade against your jugular, the exact same blade you hid under your pillow “I was wondering if you would come.” You said, knowing it was Commodus, it was to be expected after all, you thought it was well earned.

“Here I am.” He murmured, keeping the blade against your throat and coming to stand in front of you, making eye contact. He noticed your eyes were red but your breathing calm. He swallowed down, his eyes becoming wet “All I ever inspired in my life wasn’t to rule, but to be loved, appreciated for who I am. I would give away my freedom a thousand times, be humiliated every day as long as you loved me back.” He sniffled, a tear rolling down his cheek, he didn’t just enjoy being your slave, he had fallen in love with you. “I trusted you, I…you have no idea how happy I was when you ask me to sleep with you for the first time. I was being considered. Now I realize how disgusted how you must have felt, having to share your bed with me, the one who had humiliated you. How you moaned my name and spread your legs just to make me think I had to slightest importance to your eyes. Cruel but genius, I have to praise that.” He smiled bitterly, his body trembling with anger and pain.

“Commodus...there was no such plan-” you started but he pressed the blade harder against your throat, he didn’t want to have false hope again.

“Shut up!” he hushed angrily, a drop of blood trickling down your neck, the blade was sharp. He leaned forward, bringing his face close to yours, kissing you sweetly, almost like the kiss of Judas. You let him do, willing to face him, let him obtain vengeance. “I am going to kill you. But before that I have only one thing to ask, and if you have some honor, you will grant me this last wish.” He spoke softly, his tone on the edge of begging. It could make one wonder if Commodus was the one in control of the situation or you.

“Tell me. I wish to repay the wrong I cause you these past days.” You agreed truthfully, looking at him in the eyes, which Commodus seemed to hate even more.

“Why must you only look at me now? If you had the guts to look at me earlier, I wouldn’t be standing with a blade under your throat, I would be on my knees, begging you to forgive for whatever wrong I did to you.” He said fondly before pulling himself together. “I want you to be my master one last time. Order me around, be rough, make me take you, everything as you usually did. Make me feel as you seemed to care for me, only me.” He requested, firm and desiring. Once again you had been wrong, you had expected him to request that you make public excuses or such, but no, once again he only wanted you, only you.

You teared up as you nodded, flashing a brief smile, how much you regretted hurting him that way. He kept the dagger in his hand as you focused, taking a deep breath to get back in your role of Empress. “Well, aren’t you greeting your mistress Commodus?” you asked, containing your emotions as much as you could as you usually did. His eyes lit up, glad you were satisfying his last wish, he knelt, dagger in hand as he deeply bowed, his forehead hitting the floor.

“Forgive me Empress. This lowly slave was too stricken by your return and is happy.” He said fervently, kissing your feet and ankles. You smiled, retaining tears, you had messed up everything, that beautiful bond that you had built, perhaps the only person you could trust in the end. You put your hand on his hair, caressing the curls.

“Look at me.” You stated, making your hold of his hair stronger to lift his head, his pupils were dilated exquisitely, despite the fact that some of his wounds had reopened, bleeding on the white marble. “Good boy.” You praised and stood up, going closer to the bed, offering your back to him, if he decided to stab you right now, then so be it.

He stood up, approaching you from behind, so close you could feel his breath on your neck and sending shivers down your spine. You swallowed down, finding yourself wishing something …different from usual “Undress me. Do it as if we were equals.” You ordered quietly, anticipation building in your belly as he didn’t act at first. Then, you felt his arms wrapping around you from behind, squeezing you, the blade in his hand pressing against your belly, making you tremble slightly. He did nothing but hug you, his lips tracing kisses along your jugular, licking the blood from the cut, sucking your skin.

“I will mark you tonight. I was always careful to hide our whereabouts. But tonight, all will know you bedded a slave, the former emperor.” He murmured in your ear, leaving red spots on your skin. The blade moved under the binding of your stola, cutting the expensive clothing and making the fabric slide along your naked body. His blade left a small cut on your belly, making you gasp and quickly turn around, slapping him. He didn’t stop you and instead smirked “You marked me with your whip. Can’t I mark you with my blade?” he asked, condescending.

“A slave doesn’t mark his master.” You replied, red with fluster.

“Not equal anymore? My apologize, my Empress, you get so confusing at times.” He answered with a sneer, even if his tone wasn’t sincere like his usual slave attitude, he was having fun in teasing you.

“Don’t question me. Make love to me.” You stated, not realizing the words you had picked. But it touched Commodus deeply and his attitude went back to a submitted one, wanting to savor your body one last time.

He made you lay on the bed, kissing each part of your body as he made his way on top of you, memorizing it. It could have been like this forever, yet you had ruined everything and yet he still struggled to understand why, he knew you hid something to him. And he would make you talk right before killing you. He kissed your breast, soft and round, his teeth lingering on your nipples as his hands parted your legs, settling his body between them. Galen would be mad at him for reopening his wounds but well, he would probably be executed for killing the Empress anyway. You detailed him, your nails slowly scratching the skin of his chest, then, you grabbed his chin, quickly pulling him closer, crashing your lips against his, another painful kiss. You gasped as he penetrated you with one push, your fingers burying in his hair, your legs wrapping around him, pulling him deeper inside you. He grabbed hold of your legs, his hips giving rough pushes, he was venting, expressing all the passion and rage he held for you. One of your hands moved to his back, your fingertips on his wounds, making them bleed again, some crimson drops landing on your body.

“Argh…yes��highness!” his groan of pain strangled by moan of pleasure. His teeth biting your lower lip in return. That embrace was passionate, illegal…desperate. Yet, it was perhaps the most honest one you ever had, actions speaking more than words clumsily said.

The imperial bedroom was filled with pants, groans, gasps and moans, both inflicting pain and pleasure to each other. There was no tenderness, it was raw. And as fast as it started, it soon stopped. There had been no pause, nothing. And for long minutes, no words were spoken between the two of you, panting, his suffering body had collapsed on top of your, drenched in sweat. His head buried in your neck once again, he knew what he had to do but now he wasn’t sure if he truly wanted to do it, besides you still had to talk…you sensed his hesitation and decided to break the ice, not to save your life but to rather to be honest at least whatever you died or not, things would be clear.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke, your hand gently reaching to massage the back of his head “You were right, I great paranoid, just like you did before.” You said first, you could feel your heart beating faster against his as you were about to add something “I also...felt opposite emotions…I was furious at you for what you did to me and yet…I knew I had to do something to protect you.” You revealed, feeling him stiffen against your body. He lifted his head, a frown on his face, his eyes searching yours, trying to make sense of your words.

“What did I do to make you feel like this?” he asked, sincerely curious and touched. Could all of this had been a huge misunderstanding? or something else big enough to provoke her reaction? You took a deep breath, apprehensive of his reaction, your life and the future of the Empire would lie in his hands.

“The truth was I was terrified of…our relationship. Commodus, I am pregnant with your child.”

Thoughts? theories? next part? I'd be very happy if you comment, like or reblog ^^^love y'all

Commodus harem: @skaravile @weirdflecksbutok @lyoongx @stardancerluv @charlie-sisters @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercurryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix @galos-writing @pstvchld @chiclunatic @hopelessdisasterr @sparklygardenerlove @rosebloodstuffandthangss @clowndaddyfleck @jaylovebats @dreamingmaria @just-a-fucking-comedy @lady-carnival-stuff @sierraclegane @lemondedenimane @hvproductions @syvellsworld @papercut-paranoia @jokerflecker @five-miles-over @beatlebabe1996 @kfanniart @soulsfrostedheart18 @mayflower-gal

#joaquin phoenix #commodus #commodus imagine #commodus x reader #emperor commodus

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isa-beenme · 10 months

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Hi! this is my first time asking but maybe you could do a co-workers and a one night stand for the Acotar bingo with azzy?? like they are both spies for rhys and something happens on a mission orrrr…. idk fluff please :))))

feel free to ignore - i love ur work btw <33

Oh my dear I definitely can

Thanks so much for the reassurance, I'm a people pleaser KEEP COMMENTING COMMENTS THEY ARE MY BIGGEST FUEELLLLLL

Me writing a normal fanfic: 😃

Me 5 seconds after I start creating a whole trauma, past story and a lot of facts that are not exactly necessary to the story: 🥰😍🤩😚💕💖💟💞🤗✨️

When I was writing this I thought: Omg maybe I'm finally ready to write smut (I'm not, the need completely disappeared from me the moment I opened the document)

Pillowtalk

As you and Azriel prepare for yet another mission together to watch the suspect camplords in the Illyrian mountains, you go over your plans meticulously, ensuring you are ready for whatever challenges lie ahead. You and Azriel have created a unique bond over the years, having worked together on numerous missions for the High Lord. Both of you knew how to work together and where your boundaries were laid. It was precisely that that made working with him so easy, no matter the amount of time you spent together, he never ever asked you to take off the mask that usually covered your face.

The journey to the Illyrian mountains is always filled with tension since you know how much Azriel hates his old home. You know you must be discreet to avoid detection. You and Azriel move silently, utilizing your stealth and his powers to blend into the shadows. You keep your senses sharp, alert to any potential danger.

However, even the most carefully laid plans can go awry. During your surveillance, you encounter an unexpected group of hostile Illyrian males who happened to be patrolling in that area. Azriel fights valiantly, but he is fighting against five of the seven that attacked you, and even if he defeats three of them, the other two remaining aim for his wings and cause a serious injury during the wings' leather, leaving him vulnerable and unable to defend himself adequately.

In a split second, you take your decision, and you know you must act swiftly to protect your partner. Without hesitation, you remove your mask, it helps you to maintain silence and prevents the enemies from hearing your breathing. But right now it is only making it difficult for vision to be clear, the fighting usually being Azriel's work.

As you take off the mask it reveals the burn mark that runs from your neck to a portion of your face. It serves as a reminder of a past event that you try to keep hidden from prying eyes. Also, it would work as an easy way for your enemies to recognize you anywhere you went. Even if they didn't remember your face, they would remember the scars, this being the only reason to keep your face a mystery during your missions.

Despite your reservations, you know very well that your identity is a small price to pay to save Azriel. Drawing upon all your strength, you fiercely fight off your remaining attackers, using your skills to ensure you both survive the ordeal.

After the dust settles and the danger has passed, Azriel looks at you with a mixture of awe and concern. He finally sees the face that you had kept concealed for so long. His gaze lingers on the burn mark, but he doesn't pry or ask questions. He knows that you have your reasons for keeping your identity a secret, and he respects your privacy in everything.

You quickly winnow yourself and him to a nearby cabin, paying an offensive amount of gold to the keeper for her to remain silent about your state there. She only nods once and takes you to the main room, running to take medical supplies for your partner.

-Do you need help? - She asks softly, but you can see her nervousness as she looks at the blood.

-No, I can take it from here. Thank you for everything - You dismiss her and she happily gets out of the room and closes the door behind her, leaving you to take care of Azriel's wings, which are already closing their wounds.

As Azriel recovers from his injuries, you stay by his side, tending to his wounds with care and cleaning them at one time or another. As you spend time together during his recuperation, he senses there is more to your burn mark than meets the eye. You can sense his eyes floating to your neck sometimes, but you let him be fully healed before saying anything.

-You know you can just ask, right? - You say as Azriel sits beside you as you look out the window.

-I hope I'm not prying or making you uncomfortable, but I couldn't help but notice your burn mark. It must have been a difficult experience - You take a deep breath, your fingers tracing the edge of the scar absentmindedly - You don't have to share if you don't want to-

-Yes, it was - You replied, your voice carrying a mix of pain and vulnerability - My parents... they weren't the kindest people. They made it clear that they didn't want me and that I was a burden to them - You notice Azriel tracing his own scars, you didn't even notice the moment he took off his gloves.

-I'm so sorry you had to go through that - He says sincerely, a mixture of sympathy and understanding in his eyes.

-When I was young, I believed that if I stayed close to them or if I tried harder, they might change their minds, and start loving me or something. But one day... One day, I was talking to my mother while she was cooking. I didn't realize I was annoying her until she got angry. The next thing I knew, the hot oil spilled on me, and she didn't even try to help, not her, not my father. I was left with this scar after that - You took a deep breath as you felt Azriel's gentle touch tracing the contours of the burn in your neck, a silent gesture of support as he listened intently - I was probably six, maybe seven. It didn't take me long to run away until I found a mercenary. He took me in and trained me. I was supposed to be a mercenary too if Rhysand didn't find me. He hired me after some time and gave my tutor a place to live in Velaris. That's my sad story - You said with a dry laugh, trying to keep the tears that threatened to escape from your eyes. Azriel's heart aches for the pain you endured, and he reaches out to gently touch your face, mirroring the care you showed him during his recovery.

-You are incredibly strong - He says sincerely - To survive such a difficult past and become the person you are now, it takes immense courage.

-And what about yours? We are basically burn buddies - He laughs at that, supporting his back on the window, looking deeply at you as you take his hand from your face and start to trace them - You don't have to tell me if you're not ready, too.

-No, I want to tell you - He replies, his voice steady - You've shared your pain with me, and it's only fair that I do the same. I was the bastard son of an Illyrian lord. For eleven years, I lived with my father, stepmother, and two older half-brothers. They were cruel and treated me like an outcast. They kept me in a cell with no windows or light, letting me out only for an hour a day to see my mother. I was forbidden to train or fly, even though my Illyrian instincts urged me to do so.

You bring your hand up to his arm, bringing him closer to your body as you circle him in a hug, feeling the tension disappearing from his body as he is visibly relaxed in your arms, embracing the warmth and comfort.

-One day, my half-brothers thought it would be fun to see what would happen if they mixed an Illyrian's quick healing gifts with fire. They poured oil on my hands and lit them on fire - Your eyes widened in surprise, not in a million years you would have imagined his story to be like this - The warriors heard my screams and rescued me, but it was too late to save my hands. I was left with these scars, a constant reminder of the cruelty I endured.

-I hope they are all dead - You said suddenly, your voice mixed with a tone you reserve for the ones you torture in the prison.

-One of them. And no, I won't tell you who they are just for you to kill them - He laughs when you ruff in annoyance - If so you would have to tell me who are your parents, so we can have a tie.

-Really? I would gladly do so - He laughs once again, the sound making your heart flutter in happiness. He takes a moment to compose himself before speaking again.

-At eleven, I was dumped in the Illyrian training camp, Windhaven, where I wasn't exactly well received due to my shadowsinging gifts. That's where I met Rhysand and Cassian. Rhysand's mother took me in, just as she did for Cassian. And when Rhysand became the High Lord of the Night Court, I became his spymaster, part of the Inner Circle.

-I'm so sorry for what you went through. But know that you are not defined by your past, it was a lesson it took me some time to understand. You are strong, compassionate, and resilient, a testament to the person you've become. And your scars, just like mine, tell a story of resilience and survival. We should be proud of the people we've become despite our pasts.

-Yes, we should. And I couldn't be prouder of what we've become - He gets out of your embrace, taking your hand in his, reveling in the feel.

-You're right. We make a great team, burn buddies, if so - You hear a chuckle and let your own laugh fill the room - I'm grateful for every mission we've shared, you know.

-I'm grateful too, more than words can say. You've shown me kindness, trust, and loyalty. You've helped me heal in ways I didn't think were possible - Azriel's other hand moved from his side to cup your cheek tenderly, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

-And you've done the same for me. Your strength and understanding have been my anchor through it all - At that moment, you felt an unspoken connection that went beyond your shared experiences as spies. It was a bond forged through trust, support, and compassion.

As you trace gentle patterns on Azriel's hand, he gazes at you with affection and admiration. He can't help but be captivated by your strength and resilience, your ability to face your past head-on and still maintain a kind and caring heart. Something he couldn't do. His past hunted him as a monster, the shame he felt on his hands growing every time he looked at them. But you?

-You're incredible - He whispers, his voice barely above a breath. You looked up at him, shocked by his sudden words, but your eyes were shimmering with gratitude.

-And you're just as incredible - You reply with a smile playing on your lips - I always admired you. It was nice knowing you always chose me to go with you, it's also nice spending time with you.

-I always chose you because we make a great duo - You murmur "burn buddies" again, but he doesn't laugh this time, his eyes still admiring you. He turns his hand and entangles it with your - You're beautiful. You always told me that, and now I can say it back.

At that moment, the air around you feels charged with an undeniable attraction. You both sense it, the magnetic pull that draws you closer. Without another word, Azriel leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss. Your lips move together in a dance of longing and desire, your emotions pouring into the embrace. The weight of your shared experiences, the understanding of each other's pain, and the warmth of your feelings culminate in this moment.

The kiss deepens, and you lose yourselves in each other, forgetting the world outside as you explore the depths of your needs. Azriel's hand gently cradles your face, his thumb caressing your scarred cheek, while your fingers find their way into his hair, pulling him closer.

Your bodies move closer in the window seat, the space between you disappearing as you seek comfort and intimacy in each other's arms. The tension that had been building between you for years finds its release, and you become lost in the sensation of being with someone who understands you on a level you never thought possible.

As you pull away, your breaths mingling, you meet each other's eyes, the intensity of the moment shining brightly. Without words, you share an unspoken understanding as he starts undoing the stripes and buttons of your armor and you start to take off the layers of his. Your lips connect again as he pulls you to his lap and walks you towards the bed, taking off the rest of your clothes as well as his.

Your heated make-out session evolves into a night filled with passion while you share your bodies, as you find the solace and belonging you've been searching for, a love that heals your wounds and ignites a fire within your hearts. When he looked at the rest of your scars, that went down until your shoulder and took a bit of your collarbone his eyes became feral with lust. From the moment he bent down and kissed each piece of skin that was covered with burn wounds, you knew that you are completely fucked.

After your initial heated encounter, you and Azriel decide that your night together was a product of vulnerability and a need for comfort in the moment. You both acknowledge the dangers of getting involved romantically, especially as spies working in a world filled with secrets and risks.

-We can't afford distractions - Azriel had once said, his voice tinged with concern - Our focus needs to be on the missions and keeping each other safe.

-You're right. We can't let our emotions get in the way of what we do - In that moment you had nodded in agreement, understanding the practicality of his words.

Both of you agree to keep your relationship strictly professional, even though your hearts yearn for more. However, as the days pass, you find it increasingly challenging to resist the pull you feel toward each other. Your missions become more dangerous, and the stakes are higher than ever. During chaos and uncertainty, you find comfort and solace in each other's arms.

It starts with small moments, a touch on the arm here, a lingering glance there. You become each other's safe haven, the one constant in a world filled with unpredictability. And despite your resolve, once you go back to your normal life in Velaris, you find yourselves in each other's bed again, seeking solace in the connection you share. The passion and intimacy between you intensifies with each encounter, and you start to realize that they can't deny the love that has grown between you.

As the days turn into weeks, you find yourselves entangled in each other more times than you could count, each encounter pulling you closer together. You've become inseparable in your free time, if it's you in his studio while he practices his painting, or if it's him in your house while you practice dancing, your lives become intertwined both on and off the field.

The morning sun gently filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room as Azriel stirs awake. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, he finds himself lying beside you in your room once again, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He traces his fingers gently along the curves of your body, admiring the lines that define your form. The faint light reveals the outline of your burn mark, a testament to your strength and resilience. Azriel's heart swells with affection for you, knowing the hardships you have endured and the courage you carry within.

As his fingers gently explore, you stir from your slumber, your eyes slowly opening to meet his gaze. You see the adoration in his eyes and the reverence with which he touches you. A blush tinges on your cheeks, but you don't look away, instead, you pull him closer, wanting to feel his touch even more.

-You're awake - You murmur, your voice soft but still rough from the slumber. Azriel leans in, his lips brushing against your forehead before he meets your eyes again.

-Yes, I am. And I can't help but marvel at the sight before me - Your heart flutters at his words, and you intertwine your fingers with him, pulling his hand to your lips to leave a tender kiss.

-You have a way with words, Shadowsinger. But actions speak louder - With a soft chuckle, Azriel leans in, capturing your lips in a deep and loving kiss. Your mouths move in perfect harmony, conveying all the unspoken emotions between you. When you finally break apart, your foreheads rest gently against each other's, your breaths mingling.

-I never expected this - You admit, your voice tinged with wonder - But I'm grateful for every moment we shared.

-As am I. You've brought light into my life, and I can't imagine a future without you - You stay entwined, basking in each other's presence, knowing that you've found something rare and precious.

-What if we sleep in today? I don't think we need to get out of bed - He laughs and leans closer to you, the skin contact makes you shiver - I don't know, it's cold today, maybe we can help each other and warm ourselves up.

-I don't think Rhysand will appreciate it if his two best spies disappeared from his view - But he doesn't make a movement to get out of bed, instead, he starts kissing the back of your neck, slowly going under the covers. That way you know you win the discussion, the same way you did many times before.

Every time you find yourself in Azriel's arms, you feel like you can face the world, one day at a time, knowing that you have his heart to hold onto and a love that burns brighter than any shadow you've ever known. Years of shared missions, trust, and understanding have led you to this moment of realization. You are not just good together as partners, but you have discovered a deeper connection, a love born from empathy and shared experiences.

-Thank you - He comes up suddenly, interrupting his path to your legs - For being here, for understanding - With a soft smile, Azriel brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his voice tender as he speaks - I think we've found something extraordinary in each other.

-I believe you're right, shadow boy - You reply, before the smile completely disappears from your face - But this is not time to be sentimental. First, you eat your snack, and then we can talk about how much we love each other - You push his head under the covers again, hearing his laugh before his mouth finds its way to you.

That stupid promise of a one-time thing was nothing more than a futile attempt to deny the love that had grown between you. You couldn't fight it any longer, your hearts made the decision for yourselves a long time ago. You were partners - mates - in every sense of the word, bound not just by the missions, but by a love that has proven to be stronger than any obstacle in your path.

#spotify #acotar #azriel × reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel/reader #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader

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nrdmssgs · 11 months

Text

A heart full of pity (part 1)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (final)

Masterlist Angst, hurt/comfort Pairing: Nik x unnamed afab OC

Summary: He is a fixer, but there are some things, he can never fix. Things like past traumas. He wishes, he could make it better, take her pain away, but he can't. And can't leave her be either, as for now he is her fixer.

TW: Description of physical injury (burns). Inaccurate description of medical operations and military operations, swearing.

Authors note: This is deeply personal. I do not urge anyone to love Russian culture, and I understand how traumatic any mention of it can be in the current realities. I also do not urge anyone to have a positive attitude towards the FSB. Nikolai is a unique character, he does not represent any realities of life in Russia or work in the FSB. I don't romanticize Russia or FSB in real life. This is just fiction. I don't intend to harm anyone with it.

Thanks: I would like to thank a million times absolutely beautiful soul @homicidal-slvt for opening this character from a new perspective for me. I would also love to thank dear @sofasoap for creating absolutely beautiful Lastochka series, that took my mind on this journey.

“Then, oh Lord, wipe us off the face of the earth and create anew more perfect ... or even better, leave us and let us go our own way.” “My heart is full of pity,” Rumata said slowly. “I can not do it.” ‘Hard to Be a God’ by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky

“Captain, are you absolutely sure, there is no one else, whom you could send with me?” With each next word, her voice became lower and more muffled - a sure sign that she was growing furious. “I mean, I`ll need someone, who can easily blend in, someone discreet, fast thinking, but most important: someone trustworthy.”

“In other words, you need a fixer. And Nikolai is the best one.” Price remained unrelenting. Her persuasion, bargaining and even threats had no effect on him. “Now how about you quit trying to burn a hole in me with your gaze and start working on the plan?”

Price proceeds to explain her goal and timeframes for every part of the mission, but she is too deep in her thoughts. Her hands clutch in fists and slam against the table. “You can't trust that man with a critical mission. You know his origins!” For the first time in her life, she raises her voice at Price, but he completely ignores it, only adding a subtle remark “I trust him with my own life” before going on with a briefing. And that's when she makes her final attempt to make her point to her captain. “The man works for the FSB. And before you tell me once again, he quitted - they never quit! I know it better than all you here!”

Price raises his gaze to her, but doesn't respond. Instead she hears a familiar voice from behind her back. “Hochesh chto-nibud` skazat` - skazhi eto mne v litzo…*”

She could call Nikolai anything but narrow-minded. Even his insults were constructed so carefully, only them two could actually read into it. Her own origin was no secret here and others thought, it would only make it easier for her to connect with Nik, but in reality it turned out quite the opposite. His background was now his experience, hers - burning, aching open wound. Coming from the same place, each of them brought different baggage to their present life. So earlier she acted like Nik was never around: they barely talked, she never touched him, not even shook his hand, never mentioned him on conversations. As if he hasn't existed.

But that was until he was assigned to help her with the mission. As much as she didn't like it - Nikolai was the only option she got and that meant, they must talk, learn, how to work together. So later that week, sitting next to Nik on the night train, she finally pulls herself together and finds the courage to apologize for what she said earlier in Prices` office. “Captain is right: that was… unprofessional of me to judge,” she talks quietly to not draw unwanted attention, so Nikolai has to lean down to hear what she has to say. Despite her hesitant voice, she sounds genuinely sorry. “That's ok, little one. I know, you don't hate me for real. Not personally.” He smiles softly, as if just a few days ago they weren't ready to start a real fight. “Hey, I know, it's not my business, so feel free to ignore this one. But you seem to have a reason for all that rage. Care to tell?” She doesn't say much, just names a year. There is no need to elaborate: it was on the news everywhere. And it was ugly. By that time Nik already lived his another, new life far from the Motherland, but of course he and the whole world witnessed, how quickly things escalated, and all hell broke loose. Nikolai slowly nods and calmly asks. “Who?”

She sighs, looking deep in his eyes, as if searching for something. Maybe for the slightest reason to not trust him right now. "My older brother. Then my mother went to look for him on the streets ..." Nikolai curses under his breath and looks away to calm his nerves down. He doesn't need to hear the context - he knows, how bad it was. When he first saw it on the news, he thought “that's how they'll get a new angry generation, hungry for blood, growing up in shuddered families, witnessing silent disappearances of their loved ones.” So now, he sat in a hand-reach of one of those outcomes.

“What, you're going to say, you weren't there? Or maybe that you're sorry? I'll save you time: don't bother, I don't need anything from you,” she was tense, angry once again. But this time it felt different: she was actually scared, she slipped too much personal information out.

“My heart is full of pity.” He looks at his reflection in a train window. And just before she snaps back at him, Nikolai turns back to her and adds: “‘Hard to be a God’? Read it?” She doesn't answer, but it's obvious, how she recalls the quote and her rage gradually fades away.

***

If anyone asked her, where did they take the wrong turn - she wouldn't be able to answer. Her plan was solid and Nik was doing his part incredibly efficient. She got anything she needed even before she asked for it. Nikolai seemed to go full mind-reader mode on. He learned every step of the operation by heart and provided her with the most detailed plans of every location of their future mission. He did nothing wrong… And yet there she was, distracting the enemies, who rounded him up. It wasn't easy, but Nik and her made a pretty good team. What really bothered her was the timing: with that unexpected skirmish, they were now running late. And in her line of work, every second could be critical. So when they were finally done with an ‘obstacle’ - she rushed to her next point.

Nikolai was still somewhere behind, when she passed a group of teenagers, who seemed to be absolutely unbothered by the sounds of gunshots coming from the empty building from which she had just taken off at full speed. She heard the click of a lighter and a drawn-out whistle from somewhere on the side. She slowed down, but didn't even have time to turn around at the sound when she was thrown forward and engulfed in heat so strong that she couldn't even breathe in, let alone scream. And then the world around her descended to fire.

Nikolai was running behind her, when it all happened. He registered every single second of it, and that only made the whole experience more painful. He saw a bottle with a brownish cloth sticking out of the neck, saw how they set fire to the wick, swung and launched the bottle in her direction. It seemed, he even saw the smallest fragments of glass flying off to the sides when the bottle collapsed on the ground at her feet. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, as Nik saw every single detail of her agony. At first she ducked and fallen to the ground in attempt to roll over and put the fire, that caught on her, out. But the formula, that kids had in their bottle seemed to be more nasty, that an average Molotov. So the fire grew. And what was even worse: by the time Nik reached her - the flames were already clearly pale-blueish - a solid sign of some cheap synthetic being burned. The whole scene was quiet to the point, where it was unsettling: she was frantically rolling around, beating herself against the ground, yet not a single scream left her lips - she was only desperately gasping for an air. With one swift motion Nikolai unzipped his jacket, took it off and covered her back, beating lightly the spots, where the flames still appeared. For a few painful moments as he helped her fight the flames, they were both enveloped in thick smoke and the repulsive smell of burnt flesh, textile and hair. Her flushed face was smeared with dust and blood. She tried to cover her eyes with her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Sh-h-h-h, sh-h, sh-h, I got you, I got you, you're ok!” Nikolai heard his own voice and realized how pathetic his lie sounded. She was anything but ok: shuddering and convulsing limbs, swollen eyelids, sporadic breaths and muffled whines. But he kept calming her down, holding her so that she did not touch the ground with her wounded, burned back. “C'mon, little one, breathe in. Look at me and take a deep breath. Just like that, good job!” Nik looked around: it wasn't safe to stay there any longer and no matter how hard she tried to stay quiet, every her next whimper was more potent as the pain shock washed out.

***

In other circumstances, Nikolai would be proud of himself. Never has he ever before found a ride, a safe place to hide in and a medic, who won't ask any questions that quickly.

He had taken all the lamps he found in the apartment into the living room and was now wiping down the old dining table with a rag soaked in alcohol. “Nik, please… I need to report on my status back to the base.” Her voice was weak, raspy and shaky. “It is done already. They're waiting for an update on an operation.” Nikolai pours a glass of water and brings it her. “Here, you need to drink, little one.” He returns to wiping the table when a glass flies past his ear and smashes against the wall. “Tvoyu mat`! Kakaya naher operatziya, ya yeyo provalila!*” Nik doesn't even flinch, he calmly walks up to the opposite wall, bends down and picks up the pieces of the broken glass. The sharp edges gleam predatory in the light of the lamps placed around the table. She usually avoided speaking her native language, no matter how hard he tried to initiate the talk. But right now, she must have been too furious and upset to choose her language. "They're waiting for your status update. Our operation... is not as important as the one you are about to have." Her eyes widen. “Who said that? For fuck's sake, Nik, I'm ok!”

She tries so lift her body off the couch, but fails, cold compresses slide down her skin and her face contorts in pain. “Doctor Nikolai said…” He comes closer, leans down and replaces compresses with new ones, trying to not look at what was beneath them for too long. It is no longer human skin - it is a dark crimson field of terror and concentrated pain. “Now lay still, little one, save energy.”

In a few hours, she doesn't feel anything but pain. Shame was gone first. When two men carried her to the table as a lifeless puppet, when the cold blade of the scissors barely touched her skin, when the cheap textile that had partially molded with her skin was cut at the seams and the lamps illuminated her vulnerable body - she had already ceased to be ashamed of her weakness, to worry about the fact that her sight could bring them disgust. Then the fear disappeared. The caustic "medical" smell of alcohol, the basin that Nikolai for some reason placed on the floor under her head, the doctor's remarks in a language that she could not make out - all this no longer worried her.

Pain is the only thing left, it consumes her, draws out screams, beats her like a hammer. Nikolai holds her face, brushes thumbs against tear trails, keeps talking to distract her. “Nu-nu, moya horoshaya, nu poterpi eshe, eshe chut`- chut`, umnitza moya.*” He looks tired, disturbed, and so deeply worried. She understands, that something is wrong, it's written all over his face. “Ne mogu dok je ne smiriš! Mora dublje disati!*” - snaps the doctor from behind her back.

Nikolai quickly nods at him, looks back in her eyes and makes the least expected suggestion. “Ok, my dear, let's sing a bit together.” And before she can figure out what Nick just asked her for, he starts humming softly into her face. “Pust` begut neuklyzhe peshehodi po luzham, a voda po asfal`tu rekoi…*” She looks at him in disbelief for a second. A freaking soviet children song about a ‘Birthday, that comes only once in a year’? Now? Here?! But then she feels a tremendously intense pain, as the medic begins removing a particularly huge fragment of smelted synthetic textile from one of her wounds. So she opens her mouth and start half hissing, half moaning the next line of the song. And it works: even though it doesn't sooth the pain - the measured rhythm of the song makes her breathe more evenly in time to sing the next line. “U-umnichka moya, molodetz kakaya!*” - cooes Nik and keeps singing along.

The scene is absolutely bizarre to every single person taking part in it. The flickering light of floor lamps directed at the table, the heavy smell of alcohol, blood, sweat and singed flesh, swearing in Croatian, English, Russian, a children's song, barely audible in the sobs.

When it all ends, the medic is escorted outside the flat. "Nikad nisi bio ovdje.*" Nikolai pairs it with a nice stack of banknotes and a gaze of a man, who isn't joking around.

***

She falls into a feverish dream, when all medical sedatives finally kick in. She doesn't know, how long she lies on a table, and how she ends in a bed. She doesn't hear her own screams, when she accidentally turns on her back while sleeping, but wakes up, when she feels his fingers brushing over her face. Maybe it's just another part of her dream, where she mumbles him something in their mother tongue, and he answers, a low voice reverberating in his chest, to which she is pressed in order to not roll back again. She is yet to realize, what exactly happened and what challenge is she now facing. But what she is certain of - there is an ally right next to her. Not a faceless sum of his past deeds, not the embodiment of everything she hated since childhood, having fled her country. No, there was a friend next to her now. “Nikolai? Why didn't you let Price simply extract us? Just call it my failure. I mean, since I've treated you like shit previously - I deserve to learn my lesson…” “Go to sleep, little one… My heart is full of pity.”

*Hochesh chto-nibud` skazat` - skazhi eto mne v litzo… (Russian) - You have anything to say - say it to my face…

*Tvoyu mat`! Kakaya naher operatziya, ya yeyo provalila! (Russian) - Fuck! What bloody operation are you talking about? I've just failed it!

Nu-nu, moya horoshaya, nu poterpi eshe, eshe chut`- chut`, umnitza moya. (Russian) - There-there, my dear, hold on just a little bit longer, my darling.

*Ne mogu dok je ne smiriš! Mora dublje disati! (Croatian) - I can't do it, till you steady her! She needs to breathe deeper!

*Pust` begut neuklyzhe peshehodi po luzham, a voda po asfal`tu rekoi… (Russian) - first line of a famous soviet song from a cartoon. Full version with English subtitles here.

*U-umnichka moya, molodetz kakaya! (Russian) - My darling, well done!

*Nikad nisi bio ovdje (Croatian) - You have never been here.

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty #nikolai cod #nikolai x you #cod angst #cod x reader #cod mv2 #cod nikolai #modern warfare 2 #cod x oc

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gegengestalt · 1 year

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Some thoughts on how Dmitri Karamazov and Pavel Smerdyakov are perfect foils

*Keep in mind that this contains spoilers for the entire book and that in order for this comparison to work, one must assume that the rumour about Fyodor being Pavel Smerdyakov's biological father has to be true.

While there is a lot written on the theological debate of Ivan and Alyosha Karamazov, I have yet to see a comparison of Mitya Karamazov and Pavel Smerdyakov. Perhaps I haven't explored enough, but these are my two cents (dare I say 3000 rubles) on the matter. Both taken care of by Grigory, both suspects in the murder of Fyodor Pavlovich, yet two men couldn't be more different from each other. I will write down my thoughts in this order:

Different from their birth (social circumstances)

Contrasting the individuals (their descriptions and characterization, side by side)

Brotherhood (relationships to Ivan and Alyosha, preparation for the next point

Narrative (their place in the narrative)

1. Different from their birth

From even before they were born, their paths are opposed. Mitya is born out of the union of Fyodor Pavlovich and Adelaida Miusova, an aristocratic, beautiful and educated young woman who married Fyodor against her family's wishes and was no innocent victim of his. Even when he left her son, it was her choice, though a hard one (and probably the best one, considering her fate.)(BookI,chapter1). Stinking Lizaveta didn't have much of a choice. She was a poor and mentally disabled woman who suffered violence from Fyodor shortly after Adelaida left, and died in childbirth (BIIIch2). Mitya keeps a connection to his mother through his inheritance, but for Pavel, it's a curse. He is "the stinking son of Stinking Lizaveta", and ironically the child that remains in his father's home for the longest time.

From these circumstances, the children grow up to be a firstborn who feels entitled to what he feels is owed to him, and an illegitimate son whose work as a servant is taken for granted. Yet, even when Mitya is of a good social position and Pavel is of a lower one, Mitya is the one who seems to sink below what is considered to be how an aristocrat should act in public and is compared to a beast, and he has often surrounded himself with peasants in his parties. Pavel is the one who takes small steps to strive for more than what he's given, he likes to dress well, he learns and has aspirations beyond what he's expected to do. (For this whole paragraph, BVch2)

2. Contrasting the individuals

Their differences come down to individual characteristics as well, and it's evident even in how they present themselves. Mitya is described as muscular and sporting signs of masculinity like a moustache that is often seen in military men (BIIch6) He walks with long strides, he's loud, outwardly emotional and often gesticulates in exaggerated manners. Pavel's main physical feature is his weakness and sickliness. Compared to Mitya's masculinity, Pavel is portrayed as emasculate, as he is compared to an eunuch. He has a silent and discreet demeanour, and he's not very expressive. (BIIIch6, BIXch6)

Mitya is impulsive. This causes him to have a temper and not be very smart in the way that requires focus, patience and forethought (seeing him as completely stupid leaves out so much of his character). What Pavel lacks in the physical strength that Mitya has, he makes up for with a more calculated and patient approach. He's neat and meticulous even in the night of the murder, while Mitya runs around stained in blood. Speaking of meticulousness, it's interesing to me how Pavel's behaviour could be described as effeminate, while Mitya's masculinity is overdone through several masculine stereotypes at once (the knight of honour, the brute, the sensitive and tortured artist).

When it comes to women, God, their country and poetry, their opinions are comically different. Mitya enjoys the attention he gets from women and returns it, he expresses love for God and Russia in the text and he's very fond of poetry, quoting it often and even speaking with rhymes and wordplays at times. (BookIIIchIII&IV, Epilogue 2). Pavel happens to disdain all of these. While he holds contempt for both men and women, the suggestion of marriage digusted him. He rejects God, claims to hate all of Russia and declares that poetry is rubbish ("who ever talks in rhyme?" well, it seems like Mitya does)(BIIIch6, BVch2).

3. Brotherhood

Ivan and Alyosha, the children of Sofia Ivanovna, have contrasting relationships with their half- brothers. Mitya, who quickly grew fond of Alyosha, puts him in a moral high- ground and pours out his heart to him. Alyosha accepts it and reciprocates his brotherly love, even if he isn't as outwardly enthusiastic. Pavel, on the other hand, looked up to Ivan on the basis of thinking they could be alike and shows great interest in Ivan's displays of intellect. Ivan is increasingly scornful of Pavel as the story progresses. Ivan and Alyosha's contrasts extend to their half- brothers as well. Mitya and Alyosha are the life- affirming pair of half- brothers, while Ivan and Pavel are the pair with the ideas deemed destructive by the narrative.

Two fun contrasts I noticed, as a side note:

Mitya and Alyosha are two sides of not working for money, and Pavel and Ivan are two sides of work.

Book III ends with Alyosha and Mitya parting ways and Book V ends with Pavel and Ivan parting ways.

4. Narrative

While Ivan and Alyosha carry the theological and philosophical discussion in the heart of the book, Mitya and Pavel are the main players in the world that puts the theories and ideals to the test. Dostoyevsky's narrative attempts to make the reader sympathize and have faith in the greatly flawed human being that is Mitya. Those who believed in his capacity for spontaneous good will never believe that he murdered his father, while those who didn't would have a harder time believing in his open- ended redemption. Pavel's case is a little more complicated. His inner thoughts aren't as exposed as Mitya's, and his motivations aren't explicitly nor reliably stated, so it's harder to consider his importance unless one pays attention to how the narrator presents him as an outsider, a shallow presence. Not even his relationship with Marya is explored. I have my reasons to believe this may be a deliberate choice, since a theme in Fyodor Dostoyevsky's work is the suffering of the lower classes. Mitya is a great character, but Pavel isn't, not because he's badly written, but because perhaps his conflicts aren't Mitya's intense and paradoxical angst and passion. Perhaps there is a lot of boring and unromantic pain in the world.

Mitya and Pavel execute Alyosha's and Ivan's respective positions, even further. Mitya's religious fervor surpasses Alyosha's, his faith is a simple and unwavering affirmation even when he's drowning in the guilt of sin or Rakitin pesters him to dissuade him from his faith. His religiosity goes so far that he overdoes one of the core ideas of the book: while he embraces Zosima's idea of guilt for all, it doesn't just mean that he should be guilty for everyone, but that everyone is guilty for everyone else. Those are fundamentally different things. As for Pavel, he dared to do what Ivan doesn't, he put his ideas in practice (BXIch7-8). However, I don't believe that he was directly inspired by him. I think he adapted the ideas to his own interests. Sometimes people love to realize what they already knew, and wait until they find a justification. One of my favourite things about Dostoyevsky is that we see the philosophical content happen in the world of his stories.

From their birth to their fates, two men couldn't be more different. Mitya, who acted or expressed himself in a suicidal manner well over ten times, ultimately stays away from the pistols and declares a sense of responsibility for a crime he did not commit. Pavel, who was shown to feel attachment to his own life and save his own skin, destroys himself out of his own volition after tormenting Ivan.

Thank you so much for reading if you made it all the way to the end!

#the brothers karamazov #how do I even tag this? tbh I could write even more on this #tbk #dmitri karamazov #pavel smerdyakov #fyodor dostoyevsky

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chrystalwynd · 11 days

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This is one of the first stories I ever wrote. Chrystal Heights was a work-in-progress at the time, so it’s not really mentioned here. I’m not sure how well it holds up- it’s got a lot more inner-reflection than my typical story- but it’s short enough that I’ve decided to post it here.

Political Necessity

words: 2900

mc mf body-swap

The smartly dressed doorman touched the brim of his cap with one gloved hand, then turned and opened the door for me. I strode past him with a polite nod but didn't stop to speak. All the doorman saw was an attractive high-level socialite and that's all I wanted him to see. I could have stopped briefly to chat to solidify the image in his head, but that would have been a mistake. Doormen in these posh settings were trained to recognize my type and I couldn't afford that. That is to say, my client couldn't afford that.

Not that I knew who my client was. I only knew him as "Roger". That Roger had money was a given, since even an hour of my time runs two thousand dollars. Roger had reserved me for four hours. Roger hadn't seen me yet, but I fit his modest list of his requests, the most important one being the ability to remain discreet. That meant Roger was either a television evangelist or governor of the state. Since I was given a code word to get through security, that suggested a high-level politician.

My modest heels click-clacked over the polished marble tile floor. Moments after I gave the code word I was escorted to a private keyed elevator. The ride up was so smooth it seemed the elevator was barely moving. Then the doors slid open to reveal an opulent setting of casual good taste.

I stepped out of the elevator and glanced around, unsure of what to do next. I had expected to be met by a servant but possibly my client didn't wish anyone else to know of my visit. Then a door opened and "Roger" entered the room.

Roger gave me a moment to digest his identity. Then he said, "Follow me," and he turned around, disappearing back through the doorway.

I walked to the door and followed Roger down a short hallway. My mind whirled. Roger wasn't just any politician. My presence was taking on a whole new significance.

We entered a den. He took a seat in a comfortable looking recliner and indicated a sofa with a nod of his head. I sat down and waited.

"You know who I am," he said.

Hell, yes, I knew who he was. Possibly the next president of the United States. I felt a little out of my league, but only a little. I didn't let any of that show on my face as I nodded and said, "Of course. You're Roger."

He smiled briefly, without real humor. "Yes. And you're called Jade."

I smiled. "Yes. Because of the color my eyes." That was what I told clients, anyway. Those from my agency said the name was a reflection of my personality. They consider me jaded just because I don't believe in love. Or honest politicians. Or the Easter bunny.

"They're lovely," he said, almost clinically.

"Thank you," I said. "And, I should add, that who you are outside the bedroom doesn't concern me."

"Thank you for that, but the fact remains that I am who I am. For this reason and others, I must again emphasize the need for discretion." He mused briefly. "You are rated 7 stars on the Pharaoh's Club website and you reportedly do not maintain social media accounts. You come highly recommended by the Governor of...well, the governor of another state. This all speaks very highly of you, of course, but there may come a time beyond tonight when you feel that it could be quite lucrative to break our confidence, although not for the reasons you may think. So I must ask you again...are you prepared to offer full discretion for...whatever may occur this evening?"

I laced my fingers together and placed them on my lap. My eyes held his and I simply said, "Yes."

He nodded and said, "Thank you." He paused for a moment, apparently contemplating his next words. Then he stood up. "I would also like to make sure we are in agreement about your service. You are here with the understanding that your body is mine for the next four hours; within reason, of course. I guarantee you will suffer no physical injury or permanent markings of any kind while you are in my service. Do you have any...restrictions...I should be aware of?" He looked at me intently.

I mulled over that for a moment, then shook my head. "I don't do pain and, ah, bathroom activities are out, but otherwise, my body is yours. And, of course, no permanent markings."

Roger nodded again. "Excellent." He poured two glasses of wine, handing me one. "My situation is unique, beyond what you know. As you may or may not know, my wife was crippled in a tragic accident in her early twenties."

Something had been tickling my memory and suddenly I knew what it was. Roger's wife was in a wheelchair. So she couldn't perform and he wanted to get some, so he hired a prostitute. He might not be husband of the year, but it was understandable. "Yes, I know. I am sorry."

He waved off my condolences. "Thank you, but unnecessary. The service I am going to ask you to provide has always been performed in previous years by a close friend of my wife's. Unfortunately, this friend passed away two years ago."

I nodded again. He was trying to justify cheating on his wife, perhaps to himself as well as to me. It was wasted on me, however. It wasn't my concern.

Then he said, "But today is Susan's birthday. I can get her anything she wants, of course, but what she desires requires...a third party. Yourself, in this instance."

I wasn't expecting this. Apparently he was hiring my services for his wife, not himself. Interesting. I wondered briefly what I could do for his wife that he couldn't, then put it out of my mind. It wasn't my concern. "That's fine, Roger. Perhaps I could meet your wife?"

Roger nodded. "Yes, it's time. Follow me, please."

I stood up and followed Roger to what I assumed was the bedroom. It was a well-lit room, very expansive, with a sectioned plate window offering an incredible view of the bay. The furniture was modern and comfortable, and everything was spaced in such a way that a wheelchair could easily move through the room.

Then I saw Susan. She sat in a high-backed modern wheelchair, electric if the various wires and electronics were any indication. She had to be her early forties, but despite being crippled for nearly twenty years she had retained her attractiveness. It was immediately obvious why I had been selected as well. With our similarities in hair color and body type, Susan and I could have passed for mother and daughter. I must have resembled Susan from twenty years earlier.

"Susan has very little voluntary movement available to her, outside of some slight head motions and the fingers of her right hand, which she uses to guide her wheelchair," said Roger, standing next to me.

My eyes instinctively moved to Susan's. Like me, she had deep green eyes. Fascinating eyes. In fact, I was having trouble breaking eye contact. After a moment, I realized I couldn't break eye contact at all.

I felt a tickling at the back of my head, then a very strange sensation of my head filling with liquid. My eyes widened slightly as I realized the liquid was actually a presence. Susan's presence. I fought the invasion with panicky desperation. The sensation of Susan's presence didn't disappear, but it seemed to stop filling my mind.

Please said a woman's voice inside my head. Please!

I struggled to keep the liquid from filling my mind further. "No!" I said to the voice in my head.

Please! said Susan's voice. You promised!

I stood my ground, breathing heavily, not able to move but keeping the presence at bay. Roger stood beside me, but did not say anything. He seemed to be waiting to see what the outcome would be.

Please! said Susan's voice once more. I just want to make love to my husband!

And then it clicked.

I stood frozen for several moments as my mind wrestled with indecision. Could I really do this? Roger should have told me. Okay, he really couldn't have, but still. Loss of control...bad. I'd be trapped in my own body. The thought made me shudder. Trapped in my own body like...

...like Susan.

I forced myself to relax, my breathing less ragged. I felt my heartbeat gradually slow down. Then I took a deep breath, steeled myself and eased my mental controls. I felt a surge of grateful exaltation as Susan's mind fully integrated into my own. I couldn't "read" her thoughts, or her mine, but I sensed we shared control of my body. I let my mental presence shrink further until Susan had nearly full control of my body.

It was a very strange experience when my body suddenly began moving on its own, responding to Susan's thoughts rather than mine. I found myself turning and placing my hands on Roger's cheeks. "Hi, honey," I said, looking into his eyes. Then I pressed my lips to his for a kiss.

Roger was stiff and unyielding at first, obviously trying to adjust his thinking. Then he relaxed and eased into the kiss. Finally, he pulled back. "Susan? It's really...you?"

I said, "In the flesh, baby. Well, Jade's flesh. Isn't she gorgeous?"

Roger smiled at that. "Not as beautiful as you, sweetheart."

Mentally I rolled my eyes. It sounded like a bad love scene. Alright, so it was sweet in a way, but still, come on! But hey, it was Roger's money, and if he wanted to spend eight grand on an act of "love", he was welcome to it.

My hands slid my dress off over my head, then slipped off my panties and bra. Roger finished undressing as well and looked over my body with those calculating eyes. Then he smiled.

"We made an excellent choice, dear," he said.

I said, "Yes, we did! She looks just like I did at her age. Just before...well, you know."

Roger took my hand. "It's your birthday, sweetheart. Let's not dwell on that now."

I smiled. "Good point, hun. Oh! Let's see what I can do in this body!" Then I dropped to my knees in front of the naked Roger. I wrapped my fingers around his cock and then slid my tongue along his already thickening shaft.

I felt Roger's hands on my bare shoulders as I slid my mouth over his hardening cock. Soon my lips were sliding up and down his shaft with enthusiastic energy.

All this effort in the name of love was cloying to me, but one thing I do know about is blowjobs. Susan may have desired Roger with a love higher than the mountains and wider than the sea, but she didn't know shit about blowjobs. And if her man was going to spend eight grand on her for her birthday, the least she could do was say "thank you" the right way, and this wasn't cutting it. I expanded my presence just slightly, enough to take control of my mouth back from Susan. Then I tapped into my oral knowledge and put it to work through my lips.

I don't know if Roger understood what had happened, but the effect on him was electrifying. He came to life suddenly, his hands grasping my bare shoulders with urgency. My now tightly-wrapped lips slid up and down his hard shaft, my tongue sliding over the sensitive underside of his cock. Roger's breath quickly grew ragged and his balls were swelling in my hand.

"Honey," he said, "It's...it's too good...I'm going to..."

I tried to pause but Susan had control of my head, and my head continued to stroke my mouth up and down that hard shaft. Moments later Roger groaned and I retracted my presence from my mouth enough to let Susan have the experience of swallowing her husband's load. She did so enthusiastically, not missing a drop, and I felt my belly filling with Roger's cum.

I couldn't read Susan's thoughts, but I sensed her excited feelings of achievement. I was actually touched. Being able to provide this kind of pleasure for her husband was giving her happiness beyond measure. She truly cared for Roger in a way I couldn't begin to understand. It made me wonder if there was maybe something to this love stuff.

Roger sat down on the bed to recover. I let Susan have nearly full control then and she and Roger chatted about little things, just basking in each other's company. Then Roger lay me down and began to kiss my breasts. He did this until my body was squirming. Then he kissed down my bare belly until he got to my pussy. I could feel Susan's tentative excitement as Roger smiled. Then Roger began to use a surprisingly skilled tongue on my clit.

Susan's presence in my mind became a heated thing. I was used to heated sensations coming from my clit but Susan hadn't experienced anything like it in at least two years, and she was going crazy with overwhelming need. I left her to it, however, as I had an idea of my own I wanted to try.

Although Susan was occupying my body, there was a thread of consciousness linking my mind to her body. I followed that thread to Susan's body and let myself integrate into her form, leaving only a small trace of my consciousness in my own body.

There was a sudden disconcerting shift in vision. Suddenly I could see myself laying on my back, knees spread, bare feet on Roger's shoulders. I could see Roger licking between my legs, a very intense expression on his face. I could see my hands in my hair, my lips parted as I began to moan, the beginnings of a devastating orgasm obvious. Except it wasn't me. Right then it was Susan.

I realized I couldn't move. My mind screamed at my useless legs to move, to stand up, but it was like trying to knock over a wall by throwing a glass of water at it. The side of my neck itched. It was maddening. My chin was wet with drool. My back ached because I was leaning slightly to the side and my ass had slid away from the back of my wheelchair. My arms were dead weight. With exhausting effort I was able to move the fingers on my right hand slightly, and I felt overwhelming triumph when I did so.

I felt suffocated. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I was scared.

And then I saw Roger lifting his face from between my legs. Strong Roger. A man who felt deeply and believed in love. And did things for love.

Come back, said Susan's voice. You can't stay there.

"How do you stand it?" I asked.

I stand it because I have to, said Susan, And because I couldn't bear to leave him. Now come back.

I followed Susan back to my own body. Only then did it occur to me that Susan could have pulled fully into my body, taking over completely and leaving me trapped in her useless body. I shivered at the implications. And suddenly I realized why Roger had insisted on complete discretion. It wasn't his career he was worried about. It was his wife's life.

As I filed back into my head I suddenly realized I was getting laid. Alright, alright, making love. Roger was on top of me, stroking his once-again hard cock into my pussy with gusto. In fact, he was pounding me silly. I was wriggling and bucking in heated response, and Susan didn't need my help this time. It occurred to me that, in a strange way, Roger was celebrating his love for his wife at this moment, and he had earned it. Roger was actually one of the most moral people I had ever met, and this merging of our bodies was a reward of sorts for his unending and sacrificing love.

Cloying? Yes. But when Susan trembled and then exploded into orgasm, she wasn't alone.

The dual orgasm was undoubtedly beyond anything Roger had experienced before, and it caused him to groan and begin filling me- and Susan- with his hot cum. Too soon we were spent, and I wrapped my arms around him and just let Susan enjoy his closeness.

Afterwards I stood and began getting dressed. Roger and Susan had said their goodbyes, so to speak, and Susan had returned to her body. I actually felt a sense of loss, though I was glad to have full control back.

I slipped on my heels, then looked over at Susan. I walked over and circled behind her chair, then adjusted her body so her back was straight and her ass was closer the back of the chair. Then I dried her chin.

Her eyes closed for a slow blink of gratitude. I kissed her cheek.

"Thank you," said Roger.

"You're welcome," I said. I meant it.

***

Roger paid me in cash.

"I can't write a check or transfer a sum like this to your account. I hope you understand. I will provide you with a bodyguard and a chauffeured ride home," he said.

I nodded. I held a briefcase with ten thousand dollars in cash. Roger had included a tip for exemplary service. A sound business move.

"Same time next year?" I asked.

Roger smiled. "We may have a Washington address at this time next year."

"I'll pay my own way," I said, "And I won't take the train."

Roger chuckled. I shook his hand and made my way towards the keyed elevator. I knew who I was voting for in the next election.

THE END

#Chrystal Heights #body transfer

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