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reindeergamesz · 2 years

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THE PAINTER

Summary: You’re a painter in Asgard and have been commissioned to do the royal paintings for the family. Prince Loki is the last member to have their painting done, granted you are able to finish it without being distracted by the God himself.

Warning: SMUT 18+, oral (fem receiving), vaginal sex

Parring: Loki x Fem Reader

This seemed to take me forever to write and I’m still not sure if I’m happy with it. All likes/reblogs are greatly appreciated!

I post all stories to wattpad! Please check it out for more one shots!

You were wringing your hands as you sat in your stool, waiting for the last member of the royal family to enter. You didn’t know why all of a sudden you were more nervous than before, you had just painted the King, Queen and crown Prince. Maybe it was the nerves of this whole experience catching up with you since it was about to be over.

A few weeks ago you were commissioned to paint the royal family for their gallery, as an artist this was the highest honor you could ever have. Considering you were still so young and had only been selling your art for last several years, needless to say it was a shock when you were approached one day while selling your latest work at the marketplace and handed a letter from the palace.

You didn’t feel worthy, honestly you thought the whole thing was a jest at first. If it weren’t for the royal seal on the front of the letter you would have laughed and threw the paper in the trash and run off to figure out which of your friends were trying to tease you. You still aren’t sure how they even knew who you were, you had never sold any artwork to anyone other than commoners like yourself.

Yet here you are, sitting in the palace on the softest stool you will probably ever set upon, waiting for the last Prince to walk through the door. The Queen went first, which much to your relief calmed your nerves extensively, she was very patient and kind and even made conversation with you through the whole setting. It was almost like painting an old friend how easy the conversation flowed with her, it was no wonder she was loved by her people.

The King went next, he did not speak much which was fine by you cause you had no idea what you would even say and you were honestly scared to slip up and say the wrong thing.

Prince Thor went after him he was just as kind as all the stories you had heard over the years. He spoke to you about your work, complimented your skills, he seemed to truly appreciate peoples gifts.

Now it was Prince Loki’s turn and suddenly your palms were more sweaty than before. The Prince certainly had a reputation for his tricks and mischief, and you had heard many stories of him being a bit ruthless with those who got in his way. You weren’t really sure what to expect, all the stories made him seem so different than his brother.

Your thoughts were pulled away when you heard the door open and the Prince stepped inside, hands clasped behind his back as he made his way over the chair in front of you, eyes roaming over your form. You stepped up to curtesy and he gave you a small bow, “My Prince, whenever you are ready please make yourself comfortable and we will begin.” You said as you gave him a small smile and sat back in your seat.

He looked extremely regal, he was taller than you expected, you had never seen him up this close other than the few times you ever saw him during some of Odin’s speeches to the common folk. His body was much leaner than his brother and fathers, cheek bones much more defined and his armor clung to him tight enough to outline the muscles in his arms. He didn’t seem to have a single flaw in sight, which made you suddenly feel insecure about your own self.

He sat down and positioned himself, his eyes met yours and he gave you a small nod indicating that he was ready to begin, you picked up your brush and began working. He was silent for the first few minutes, so you attempted a bit of small talk.

“How is the day fairing you, my Prince?” you asked, not taking your eyes off the painting. He didn’t answer immediately, you peeped over and he almost looked shocked you were talking to him. “I would say it’s quite well now, darling.” his voice was deep and sultry but with a hint of playfulness behind it. The pet name he used for you instantly made your whole body feel hot, you peeked a look at him around your canvas and saw the smirk plastered on his face, you instantly averted your eyes back to the canvas.

You finished the next few details in silence, before he finally spoke again. “How long have you been an artist?” you were caught off guard by his question momentarily until you composed yourself, “Oh..Uh, I’ve actually enjoyed painting since I was a child. I just recently started doing it as a living and not a hobby a few years back.” You admitted, Loki gave you a nod at your answer. “Making art is a beautiful thing, it is fitting that it is done by someone as beautiful.”

You felt your whole face heat up and your stomach do a flip at that. Did he really just say that? You made eye contact with him and a smile was playing at the corner of his lips. “I-Thank you, my prince.” you finally managed to say. Was a Prince really flirting with you right now? You couldn’t deny the butterflies in your stomach after that comment, and his voice sent chills down your spine.

You shook your head, he must be messing with you as a trick for his own amusement. You continued to work, trying to ignore the feeling in your belly. “I’m just finishing up the last details of your face, if you would like a sneak peak your majesty” you beckoned for Loki to come over.

In what seemed like an instant he was behind you observing the painting, he was closer than what you would normally be comfortable with but you didn’t mind. This close up he was much taller than you, he was so handsome and you suddenly weren’t sure if your painting could ever do him justice.

His eyes roamed over the canvas and then to you, you turned to him to try and get a read on what he was thinking and caught his eyes roaming down your form again. You suddenly blushed at the way he was checking you out. “I hope it is to your satisfaction, my Prince.” you spoke, his eyes instantly shooting back up to your face.

He grinned, “Why yes, definitely to my satisfaction.” He practically hummed as he looked you up and down once more. Your whole body felt hot after that comment, and you tried to ignore the feeling it left behind between your thighs. “I’m pleased to hear it, is there anything you would like to me to change?” you leaned a little closer to him “Any suggestions on how I could please you better?” you nearly whispered the last sentence, your heart was suddenly beating faster and you have no idea what had come over you, just that you were so close to Loki and his mere presence made your head spin and your stomach twist.

He grinned wickedly “Oh I definitely have some suggestions,” he stepped closer, another couple inches and you would be chest to chest. You sucked in a breath trying to keep yourself calm and composed and ignoring the throbbing that was coming between your legs. “Anything, my Prince.” you bat your eyelashes up at him, leaning even closer to him but not close enough to touch.

Loki smirked and brought a hand to your waist and suddenly pulled you into his chest, you gasped at the sudden contact. “Ah, trying to tease your Prince now?” he murmured into your ear. His breath was cool on your neck, and your body leaned even further into his touch. You had no idea what was coming over you, but your body had already betrayed you and you brought one hand up to Loki’s chest and rubbed ever so slightly.

“I’m merely trying to make it to your liking, my Prince.” his hand grabbed at the small of your back, beckoning up your shirt til his palm was pressed on your skin. His skin was cool, and the feeling made you hum in delight. “Oh, it’s already to my liking darling” and with that his lips were on yours in a rush. You were taken aback for a moment but it didn’t take long for your body to respond to the kiss.

His free hand slid to the back of your head and your hands twisted around his neck, you lips parted and his tongue slid in. His lips were so soft, he tasted like cherries and mint and his tongue seemed to be cool. For a moment you felt like the whole word stopped spinning and you were floating, he was kissing you like he knew every part of you, exploring the inside of your mouth like you were some sort of treasure to be found. After a solid minute you finally pulled back to catch your breath, both of you left panting.

“I hope I have not overstepped.” he said smugly, your cheeks lit up because even though this was incredibly unprofessional and wrong the way you felt seemed so right. You just nodded in response, he took it as an invitation to lean back in but this time he began kissing your neck and nibbling at the sensitive skin by your pulse point. You stifled the moan that nearly escaped and threw your head back so he could have easier access.

He kissed down your neck, then made it to your collarbone, biting and sucking and was definitely leaving a mark but you loved it too much to make him stop. His hand were suddenly pulling your shirt over your head, leaving you bare chest for him to see, you felt insecure being so exposed and crossed your arms to hide yourself, but he grabbed your wrist almost immediately and pulled your arms back to your sides and then took one of your breast in his mouth and began to suck.

This time you couldn’t stop the moan that came out of you and you felt Loki chuckle. You wanted to feel his skin on yours, so you grabbed at this shirt but he was wearing ceremonial armor and there was no way you were getting it off by yourself. He laughed and then snapped his fingers and in an instant the top part of his clothes were gone, your mouth dropped at the nonchalant use of magic.

You had never seen anyone do magic before, even though you knew some possessed it. Before you got the chance to dwell on Loki’s magic he began kissing down your navel, you let a whimper escape and you grew wetter at the feeling his lips left on your skin. He ripped your pants off you in one hard tug and discarded them on the floor, your briefly smiled at the thought of how he could have just magicked them away but didn’t.

Loki’s hands gripped the back of your thighs as he kissed around your lower stomach and then the inside of your thighs, your legs were shaking and you could feel the pool between your legs as you whimpered under his touch. He was kissing and caressing every part except where you needed it the most. You wiggled trying to get some friction but he held you firmly in place and then licked one stipe between your folds.

You moaned louder than you should and Loki chuckled between your legs, his tongue began working through your folds slowly at an agonizing rate, you fisted and hand in his dark locks, trying to press him closer into your core. The tip of his tongue licked over your clit and then he began to suck at your nub, your whole body felt like it was being shocked with pleasure. You moaned and withered above him as he brought you closer to release, you bucked your hips as the knot in your stomach tightened.

Loki sucked and pressed his tongue harder to your core and it sent you over the edge, you threw your head back and nearly yelled as your orgasm took over. He continued to lap as you rode out your orgasm, and your legs started to give out as you came down from your high. Before you could fall Loki stood and pulled you close to him, you could feel his bulge pressed against your stomach and that made you gush once again between your thighs.

He kissed you once again, letting you taste yourself on his lips. Loki’s hands traveled down your back til he placed them on your ass and suddenly hoisted your up, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he moved to the side of the room and pressed you against the wall, never breaking the kiss. You heard a snap and then felt his pants disappear under you as his cock was left bare and pressed between the two of you.

You caught a glimpse at this swollen cock just as he was positioning himself, your eyes widened a bit at the size but before you had chance to think any further he pushed himself inside you fully in one thrust. You both moaned and shuddered as he buried himself to the hilt, he pulled out slowly before thrusting back in and slowly building a rhythm. You felt yourself stretch around him but pleasure quickly took place of the discomfort.

You held onto his shoulders tightly and dug your nails into his skin, he grunted at the sensation and pounded into you harder. “Yes Loki, god yes!” You cried as you bit down into this shoulder, he groaned and sucked on your neck. “My name sounds so good out of your mouth darling, say it again” Loki nearly growled before pounding into you even harder.

Each thrust made you feel like you were going to fall apart, your whole body felt like it was on fire, like he was stroking every single nerve inside you. You screamed his name this time, over and over while your walls clenched around him, causing him to make the most sinful sounds you’ve ever heard.

A few more strokes and you came again with a scream, tossing your head back into the wall and digging your nails even further into Loki’s back. He continued to fuck you as you came around him and you could tell he was near his end, his rhythm grew sloppy and in a few final thrust he released inside you with a loud groan that nearly had you cumming for a second time. Your cunt clenched around him as hot ropes of cum filled you to the brink.

You fell lax on his chest and you both panted trying to catch your breath, Loki slowly pulled out of you and set you down. He leaned his forehead down to yours as he rubbed the small of your back, “I usually find these sort of things incredibly boring, but I wouldn’t mind doing it everyday as long as you are the artist” Loki whispered as he planted a kiss on your forehead.

You smiled at leaned into his touch, laying your head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat for a moment, “I’m not sure I would get much work done if you were always my muse.” You chuckled.

#loki #loki laufeyson #tom hiddleston #loki of asgard #loki series #loki odinson #marvel #hiddlestoners #loki 2021 #god of mischief #loki smut #loki fanfic

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Yandere Profile - Link (Legend of Zelda)

ABSOLUTELY YES. MY BOY. LOVE OF MY LIFE.

As some of you may know, today is the release date of Skyward Sword HD for Switch!! So I decided to release this one now in honor of that :3

NOTES:

I went towards the idea of a Princess!reader because that just opens the gate for sooooo much potential. I'm leaning heavily towards the ZeLink interactions in BoTW and Skyward Sword just because those games have the most interaction between the two.

Also! This is great bc it gives me the opportunity to explore an idea I've actually had a long time! I've always thought about how many opportunities there have been across the games for Link and Zelda to be kinda like "haha well seeya later" and just... bolt, run away from everything, abandon their roles and responsibilities and all that. Like, if OoT kid Link got her before Ganon did and ran, if SS Link just decided to get her on the bird and bolt before everything went down, if botw Link was just like haha what if we ran away from everything together... jk... unless...?

And final note, Link is a great pick for the very traditional yandere -- sweet and : ) but can snap into darker personas. I really liked writing this bc I tend to have more self centered yans and less of the "worships the ground you walk on" type of yans like I think Link would be, so it's a nice change.

As usual now the nsfw section is divided by a ---- line.

TWs: fem reader, heavily implied Zelda!reader, stalking, murder, very brief mentions of gore/dismemberment of rivals, manipulation, very brief suicide mention, themes of reincarnation (I’ve been told this can be triggering to some people so just in case)

TWs (nsfw section): noncon, somnophilia

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Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 4 Brutality: 8.5 Physical capability: 8 Mental/emotional instability: 7 Restrictiveness: 6 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

The primary trait of Link that any darling -- any person, really -- would notice is that he is, well, quiet. He has always been a man of few words, and really, he often doesn't know exactly what to say. On his own, at a first glance, he really does seem like a gentle, humble spirit, someone who blends into the background pretty well, who isn't particularly prideful or reckless or aggressive.

Which is why, to be honest, he might sort of evade the gaze of most people -- he doesn't stand out. You remember him as the boy that smiled at you now and then, it's a soft, gentle sort of smile, one that you feel conveys nothing but the utmost innocence and contentment with the world. You know he's pretty good at fighting, but doesn't get into fights needlessly, he's accomplished and respected, but has never been the guy everyone is talking about -- he's in the background, against the wall. Never speaking, always looking out, sometimes at the sky, sometimes carefully watching people. Sometimes you see him, gaze blank and tranquil, and wonder what he's thinking about. Whether he's the village boy in the time of Twilight, the trained and honored warrior that slept for many years, the boy that came down from the sky -- you can't help but feel at ease around him, safe, you can't help but find him endearing and pleasant.

Yet, you always seem to notice him. Other people... forget he exists, sometimes, he's so quiet. You never do, for whatever reason.

When he needs to get something across, he prefers to express himself through actions, not words. If you lived in Skyloft, or Ordon village, you might find problems mysteriously solved, work suddenly done that you don't remember doing. That fencepost outside your home that broke has been replaced overnight. A village child went missing and he comes back a few hours later with them in tow. Always humble, never demanding or expecting thanks, he tells you in his quiet voice that he's happy to help you.

And should you ever ask him for anything, he'll drop whatever he's doing to help. Anything for you, he says with a smile, which makes you feel a bit guilty when, honestly, you're not even sure you're remembering his name right.

And yet, sometimes, you feel so at ease around him it seems unnatural. He seems so easy to trust. You feel like you've known him forever. And sometimes you feel... for just a split second, less at ease. You find yourself randomly stiffening at his calm, sweet voice. You find yourself looking around when you're alone, as if you feel someone is there, and for some reason, his face flashes through your mind. Sometimes when he looks at you, you feel sort of cold. It's almost like invoking a memory you don't have, like some kind of learned instinct you can't recall a reason for. But those moments are fleeting, they come and go before you can even process them, replaced by warmth and comfort.

If you do spend time with him, if you find yourself gazing out your window when he's training, the next thing you notice besides him being quiet and sweet is that he's strong. It's almost ironic, how all the other knights or village boys are so aggressive and rowdy all the time, many of them taller or bulkier, and yet, none of them could ever dream of defeating Link. Not one can match his agility, speed, prowess. Such a pleasant, calm person, with so much skill, strength, and power, but that power is so rarely seen exerted. People marvel at his talent, they say it's as if he has the experience of lifetimes and lifetimes of battle in his blood.

And it's why you feel at ease when he's assigned the task of guarding you. His capabilities are unmatched, and yet you'd never fear any harm to you from him. Both of those traits put together make him the best candidate to protect you.

Of course, you do find yourself doing most of the talking. Sometimes you find yourself rambling to fill the silence, and you fear you're annoying him, but when you stop he raises an eyebrow and asks why you got so quiet. Did he do something wrong? He seems to worry about that a lot -- has he done something bad? Has he made you upset? Are you mad? At first you think he's worried about his position security, but after a while you realize he genuinely worries about it.

And when you do continue your ramblings, you're surprised to find he remembers your words -- every little thing you say. Things you don't even remember telling him. He asks you about that relative you mentioned one time, his eyes light up and he walks a bit to the side because look, it's your favorite flower over there, he'll get it for you. It's impressive, really, how he manages to remember such things. He must take his job very seriously.

He does enjoy giving you such things -- he loves giving you gifts. It's usually things he finds, wholesome little things -- makes a crown out of the flowers you like so much, finds something interesting here or there, while he was off-duty he saw something in the markets he thought you'd like and got it for you. You almost feel guilty, it's so constant that he's giving you things.

Sometimes you ask him about himself, you realize he knows so much about you and you so little about him. He blushes, he rubs the back of his head, he insists there's nothing interesting about him, he wouldn't waste your time like that. It takes time to get him out of his shell, but eventually, he tells you this or that, little stories from his life.

Sometimes you take long walks, you like to get out of the stuffy walls and have fun outside, he accompanies you across Hyrule. Sometimes it feels familiar, you pass places you've never been that give you a feeling of nostalgia, deja vu, a sense that you've been here before.

He’s protectiveness incarnated. Insanely so. He can spring to his feet at a moment's notice and deals with anything that comes for you before they can even get close.

It makes you feel safe, but there's something else there. It's a ferocity that is so contrasting to his normal self, different even from the times you've seen him fight as he trains. It's a glint in the eyes, an aggression in his expression, that almost makes him seem like a different person. And it lingers for a moment, once the creature is dead and his sword hand falls to his side, he turns and glances at you to his side, a hand raised to wipe the blood off his face, and for that lingering second, it's still there, his blank expression and wide eyes -- a ferocity so intense it starts to look like bloodlust, chaos, destruction. And then, it's as if you imagined it. Smiling and telling you it's gone now, you're ok. You're glad he's so truly devoted.

In fact, he's so dedicated to his job that he starts... doing it... outside of his job hours...? Well, today he was given the day off, and you were told to stay inside because you didn't have to go out. He comes knocking on your door, says not to be startled if you hear someone outside your door move or shift or anything, but he just wanted to let you know in case. He'll be right here. Keeping watch. So don't worry. You're safe.

And likewise, he was supposed to have a day off when you were supposed to enter the town. You were assigned two other guards to watch you, since it's a special trip, so you're surprised to find just Link waiting for you. He took care of it, he says, he didn't feel right leaving your safety up to someone else, he doesn't trust them. So they agreed to let him take over for today.

All of this said, he doesn't have to grow alongside you, he doesn't have to be the childhood friend, the knight who guards you. He doesn't even have to have met you. Fate works in odd ways like that. There's a sort of inexplicable instant attachment he takes to you, almost as though it's some kind of destined, divinely inspired sort of thing. He would describe it as saying you feel familiar to him.

He's also, notably, prone to a more traditional trope of what you might call humility whiplash. For the most part, he's got that overly humble, worshipping, "I don't deserve to even stand in your presence" sort of mentality. However, although it's rare and requires a lot of wearing down his mental state, if pushed far enough, he can have brief moments where he snaps into more or less the complete opposite -- entitlement, arrogance, aggression, getting mad at you for the behavior he'd normally take with a smile on his face. Thankfully, unlike some yanderes that have a whole snapping episode towards their darling, his are very very brief, usually only a matter of seconds or a single snarled sentence before he snaps back to normal, wide-eyed and apologetic and telling you I don't know what came over me. It’s... a little frightening to say the least, but you blow it off, tell yourself that hey, everyone has moments like that... Right?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

For the most part, he doesn't need it, he can pretty easily cling to your side well enough to be assured of your safety, and he manages to scare off the undesirables not with a glare, but a smile that's just a little too sweet and far too persistent -- it unnerves people. You hear a lot of people say that something about that guy rubs me the wrong way. Or that he gives me goosebumps for some reason. Even the people he scares away themselves can't pinpoint exactly what it is, all they know is that, despite being reputed as kind and quiet (and maybe a little dense), somehow a lot of people agree that something about him puts people at unease, and that's all he needs. Because they stay away from him, and if he’s by your side all the time, that means they stay away from you too. Why keep you trapped when you can just be isolated?

An aware Link is a a unique scenario. One scenario that's rather... interesting to imagine is a Link that defies fate itself, a Link that decides to be selfish in one of those rare snapping moments of his. Perhaps he makes a decision when everything starts going down, when the chaos is beginning, or perhaps he has somehow managed to gain knowledge of the bigger picture at work, the reality of the nature of your existence and his.

Perhaps he begins to think it's unfair. To suffer again and again. To prove himself again and again, and not always even to reap any benefits, to work so hard and yet still -- still -- you slip out of his grasp. He longs for a life with no tribulations, no struggle, no fights to be fought. He begins to feel like it's what he wants the most. He begins to feel like maybe it's what he deserves. So many lifetimes of struggles, if the higher powers won't give him a reward, he'll take it himself.

And perhaps, for all their higher power, not even the great goddesses themselves would have ever predicted it -- humans are ultimately creatures of will. To defy fate and to run away from destiny -- it wouldn't be the first time a human has tried such a thing. Sure, Hyrule may be destroyed. The people may all die. There may be nothing left. But you know what? He's stopped caring. If you're alive and he's alive, tucked away in your little corner of the world where you've found respite, well, that's all he needs. Even if you're on the run from forces that would want to find you, even if the threat of the final third of the triforce owner looms over your head. He'll ignore it, he'll look away.

You'll live a quiet little life together, a happy life without suffering, without quests and enemies, without strife, without worry. That's what he tells you when he steals you away, lifts you out of your bed one night. Says to be quiet, there's danger outside your door, he's rescuing you. You have no reason to not believe him. He waits until things go down, a castle under siege, but rather than taking you to where you're supposed to go, he climbs onto the horse and starts... riding away. It gets further and further into the distance, and you might ask why, what's going on? You have a job to do, he has a battle to be fought. But he says you're going far, far away, someplace you'll be safe.

But what about the divine beasts, the seals, the Twilight, whatever threat runs in this world in this time, what about the threat of Ganon, you ask? He says it doesn't matter anymore. You were doomed to fail, he thinks, it's either stay here and die, or run away. All that matters is you. And he'd like you to feel the same way for him. You will with enough time, don't worry.

He just wants this happy, quiet life with you that he’s been denied time and time again. It’s all he wants. If fate won’t give it to him, he’ll make it happen himself, and carve out the life he is determined to have, defying even the will of higher power.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

He gets it. Really, he does. "Stop following me!" You yell. Well, he understands why you might feel that way, but this is kinda his job. He thinks you're naive. Not that he would ever, ever have a thought that you're imperfect, of course! It's because you're so perfect and pure that you're... less aware of the dangers all around.

He'll let you think you're free, perhaps. He's more than capable of being quiet, quiet is kind of his thing. Watching you from a short distance is easy. Of course, his horse might make a noise, he can't really help that, or he might misstep on a branch or something. And then you turn around and get all mad again. Now you're even more angry. Well, he can also tell your guardians/father, who will encourage you to accept it. You can't help but feel a little bad -- he's just doing his job.

Now, our aware, runaway Link, well, does he really need to keep you restrained? What would you go back to? Certain death, a land destroyed? Sometimes you mention home, and he's quick to remind you that home doesn't exist anymore. His home is where you are. Can't you feel the same way? You found peace here in this little place -- a village far far away. Travelers, you call yourselves. What's the point in going elsewhere? How would you ever survive without him? He's not very good at being subtle or skillful about the psychological manipulation, it's obvious he's trying to scare you into not leaving, but... it still works, because really, he has a point.

He doesn't want to have to use physical restraint, in any case. And for the most part, it's not needed, because one important aspect of your relation is that his job kinda revolves around you (in some incarnations), or, perhaps you live in the same little village, but either way the thing is that his presence does the job well enough -- he's always there, perhaps more so than almost any other yandere. Even when you think you've managed to get away from him for a moment, somehow his face pops up out of nowhere. How he manages to pull it off is a mystery, you swear he manages to find you so well and predict your movements it's inhuman.

But if you really, really pose a problem, a smarter and sneakier darling that somehow manages to keep slipping out of his grasp and running off (you never get away for more than about 20 minutes or so, but nonetheless), you keep trying to run off when he's sleeping (he wakes up in approximately 25 seconds if your presence is absent from the bed, but that's still enough time to run out the front door), every time he turns his head (which isn't often) you're trying to disappear... well, in that case, he can reach a point of deciding more straightforward measures are necessary. He hates to do it, really, at least when he's not yet at a snapping point. But it's for your own good. And he says so, quite apologetically.

But it's not so bad, it's not like you're being chained to a wall or anything. For one, he got leather ties so you'd be more comfortable, but more importantly, as your guardian, he figured the best thing for you to be tied to would be... himself. Think of it like friendship bracelets! It's just... got a 5-foot chain connecting them. This way you can't sneak off at night, and you won't get too far when he's distracted. It's a safety measure.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

He's a learner. At first, it's easy. Honestly, he is a rather naive, gullible boy, sometimes he reminds you of a happy dog with his bright eyes. He likes to believe the best of people, give them the benefit of the doubt in all circumstances, and that goes double for you, who he believes can do no wrong.

And even when you do lie to him, it's still not wrong. You didn't do anything bad. Clearly there has simply been a misunderstanding, and you thought you had to lie. Or perhaps you simply forgot a detail or were confusing something with something else. It wasn't malicious on your end, he knows that.

He's actually significantly smarter than he lets on in practical knowledge, though. Those dungeon puzzles pay off, you know? He's got pattern recognition down. So over time he learns how to distinguish when you're lying to him or attempting to deceive him, and sees through it increasingly well.

And yet, he doesn't really... get mad over it, most of the time. Again, he's just capable of deluding himself into believing there's a reason. He believes so strongly in your goodness that he finds a way to interpret everything you do as out of benevolence. So you snuck out the window and didn't tell him you were going for a walk because you just wanted to get away from his suffocating presence for once? You were just thinking of him. You didn't want to burden him and wanted to give him a break. Well, that's thoughtful, but don't worry, he doesn't need a break. He thinks it's precious you're so considerate of him though!

You don't tell him you were talking to that person, and you lie and say no when he asks, because you don't want him to worry, and because you underestimate how dangerous others can be. He's told you a million times and you don't listen, but that's ok, it's because you're just so pure you see the best in everyone. Everything you do is good.

Because he perceives your lies, he will still work against and around it. He won't confront you on your lies, he'll just make sure to deal with the situation -- you lied about sneaking out, well, he'll just keep watch and be ready to meet you outside next time. You lied about talking to a person, well, he'll just have to make sure they stay away from you instead.

If you're trying to trick him, he just plays along until necessary. Smiles and nods. He gets the suspicion you're planning a break-out when he told you he was leaving to go get something from town... rather than saying so, he just decides, you know what? Why don't you come with him? Oh, you're feeling sick, you tell him it's ok, go without you? Well, he can't leave you alone then! Because you're clearly not and just trying to get him to leave... or, as he says, he can't just leave you alone. He'll go another day.

He's fairly manipulable when it comes to praise and affection. You can easily Pavlov him into certain behaviors or patterns with just the slightest words of praise and affection. He's not a very outwardly expressive person, tends to stay quiet, but you can tell how he feels inside when you give the slightest praise, a hug, a kiss on the cheek -- you can see that soft hint of a smile and tell that inside, he's basically melting, even if it's not obvious to most people. And, much like the lying, he’s honestly often aware of it, but he just can’t help it.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He tries to get you the things that he feels will make you happy. Your happiness is incredibly important to him, and he usually thinks about how any action he plans to take might affect you, spends a lot of time debating choices of things to do or say and try to determine how each one will affect you and choose accordingly.

As such, he goes out of his way to support the things you want to do. Have a hobby? He'll find the best materials available. Want a book or a food? He'll obtain it through some means. Even if procuring it involves a side-quest-y set of mundane tasks or scouring the world for 70 of this and 50 of that to exchange it for the item from an obscure specialist, it's all worth it.

The only thing he just doesn't give up on is the constant vigilance and insistence on being by your side more or less every waking second. And every sleeping second. And just every single moment you're alive. It's for your safety.

This is actually one of the things he can get a little nasty about when it comes to how he deals with it, because he quickly has the bright idea that if you don't get it, he'll make you understand. Of course, he can't actually risk you getting hurt, so he stages it. Allows you to sneak off, or at least think you have, and walk right into the path of those monsters he lured, or the people he hired to intimidate you. Of course, it's only natural that he shows up at the last possible second, right on time to save you. You should expect that, after all, it's his responsibility to protect you, of course fate works out perfectly like this. See, he was right, it's so dangerous, and without him you'd be dead. Hopefully you grasp that now.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

His is mostly related to vigilance. Where are you? Who have you been talking to? Who was that person you were talking with just now? What did they say? He's not nosy. He just cares about you. It’s in the job description. You ought to understand just how much certain bad people would love to find you and hurt you. That's why he has to know.

This isn't our modern world, so there's no phones or tracking devices to speak of, just himself, which, well, might as well be a tracking device since he never seems to have difficulty finding you. Sometimes you're not sure how he does it.

He tells you that you don't have to be with him 24/7, but you will be, even if you don't realize it. He's aware enough to know that you'll feel suffocated and get mad if you're aware of his presence all the time, so he gives you your "alone" time, aka, the "follow her quietly from a 20+ foot distance" time. It all feels the same to you. Well, sometimes you feel eyes on you, but you shake the feeling off as paranoia.

So it's not so much that he sets rules and reacts when they're broken, but rather, he works his way around anything you might do so well that he doesn't need you to follow his rules, or really, you take them more as suggestions. But honestly, that's kind of worse. It's enough to drive a darling to the brink of a mental breakdown very quickly. With Link you will inevitably become paranoid, nervous, you feel like you're going insane because he manages to pop up everywhere, he always knows what you did when you did it and you have no idea how it is even conceivably possible for him to know some of the things that he knows. He confronts you very plainly and quietly, often sweetly, asking why you did this or that or telling you it's ok, you don't have to hide anything, surely there’s a good reason, and if not, he forgives you anyway. In a way, it's worse than an angry confrontation. You begin to feel like he's omnipresent, like he can read your mind, and it truly takes a mental toll and affect you worse than any normal yandere's concept of punishment.

This ultimately works out well in his favor. The more you just do what he wants, the less it feels like a violation or intrusion that he knows these things, since he was there with you, it makes sense, and you continuously get bent to his will.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Ah, and thus we get to that brutality rating.

It would be unthinkable to think that any sort of scum would even dare. Even he isn't worthy of being with you, and someone else thinks they could be? So, he more or less views "rivals" as an offense. When they're threats, well, he's allowed to deal with them. When they're not, well... he has a wonderful reputation. If he says he overheard that person planning usurpation or assassination, that they realized he was listening in and wildly attacked him, everyone will believe him. Even if the death seems a little... non-immediate. And uh... frankly... overkill. How exactly... did those limbs get perfectly severed during equally armed combat? And was it... really necessary... to kinda spill entrails all over like that? He'll apologize, of course, he was just so outraged by the thought of someone hurting you or your family, you know? You notice his eye twitches a bit as he says it.

He has a lot of... bottled up frustrations, which we'll touch on in the nsfw section as well, but it tends to manifest in those two ways: sex and violence. Rather than exerting stress and anger and frustration as it comes, he lets it fester. He tries to maintain being the noble, humble, self-sacrificing person he feels he should be. That is... difficult to do for a long time. People expect a lot from him, even in timelines where he's not necessarily realized as the hero quite yet, he usually has a lot of responsibilities. But then you tack on the whole hero thing? The weight of the world is sometimes, quite literally, on his shoulders. Do you have any idea the kind of stress that comes with that knowledge? It's not pleasant. And it quickly bottles up, a very very fragile bottle set to eventually shatter in a matter of time.

On a longer sort of quest, he just kinda... leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. Enemies don't actually just poof out of existence the way they do on-screen, you know. Anyone coming across an area he's just been through is met with literal piles upon piles of corpses, sometimes monsters, but sometimes people. He takes a very scorched earth sort of policy when it comes to dealing with things.

He's able to easily get close to people, with that sweet face and puppy eyes and lithe body, people don't really feel on guard around him nor intimidated. That makes it significantly easier to infiltrate enemy hideouts, earn favors, and work his way in to be able to commit mass murder more easily. Granted, no one thinks too much of it because they *are* truly enemies, after all, they *did* need to be taken out and well, if the rulers can choose to either send a group of ten soldiers or just one guy and get the job done equally well either way, they'll go with the latter option. No one thinks anything of it, except the occasional person who laughs and says something to the effect of remind me to never get on your bad side, haha! He gives that sheepish, sweet little smile, and jokingly tells them that yeah, better not.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

For you, nearly impossible. For others, at a hair trigger.

For the most part, he conceals anger well until, as aforementioned, it bottles up and bursts. The truth is he gets irritated virtually all the time by other people. People who talk to you. Look at you. Smile at you. He’s actually rather easily annoyed even when you’re not involved, but again, he’s good at hiding it until it builds.

His rage has a commonality with his calm -- it's quiet. At least, at first. When it's directed at others, his eyes narrow. It's the telltale sign that someone has ignited his rage. It burns on the inside, it starts off as a spark that builds and builds and grows larger and larger until it's a blazing fire that consumes everything in his path. It's a loss of composure, a rare moment of complete loss of self-control. From his own perspective, it feels like he's not in control of his own body, it's all a blur happening in front of him and when it's over he's looking down at his own hands, unable to process his own actions, sometimes unable to remember them.

But it's violent, merciless, unforgiving. It does not yield to begging, it does not leave anything alive unless forced to. You remember the first time you realized how unnatural it was, how shocked you were at how he did something that certainly went against the code he was sworn to follow, the very first time you felt truly afraid of Link. It was a walk in town -- someone called out to you, spitting obscenities about you and your family, your lineage, threw something at you -- he caught it in his hand and crushed it, and quickly, without a word, advanced on the offender. And, to make a long story short, you had to prevent him from beating a man to death in public in broad daylight. He was forgiven by his superiors, but even they seemed shocked. You had to pull him off, and when he jerked his head around to look at whatever was stopping him -- before his face softened as he recognized your own face -- the split second you saw the burn of hatred and fury in eyes that were normally so soft and loving, was nothing short of unsettling, you still recall the chill that ran down your spine.

And honestly? It's terrifying. And the first time, it's shocking. Sure, you knew he could fight. You've seen him fight off monsters, bokoblins and lizalfos and the like. But something is different about seeing the blood of a human being run down his sword, dripping onto the ground, to see the bodies and the blank, numb gaze on his features he always has after it's over. The absolute lack of hesitancy he has to run human enemies through before they even have a chance to explain themselves, how unbothered he seems by the carnage left in his wake. The way he turns back to you, drenched in red and smiles, tells you it's ok, you're safe now. There's no need to look so scared.

And it changes how you view him, in the long run. Less of a guardian angel, more of a guardian dog, one that defends your name when you never asked him to. Pleads to tell him not to fall on deaf ears -- you just don't understand why it has to be this way, he says, you can't comprehend the threat they posed. From the sweet boy that leaves you flowers and repairs and instead leaves a wave of destruction in his path you would not have thought possible.

Directed towards you, though, it's entirely different. He tries his best to have patience with you, no matter what. He smiles, he tries to make excuses as to why you'd say this or do that, why you'd feel a certain way, and he's rather good at deluding himself to give you the benefit of the doubt.

But when it reaches an end, when he can no longer lie to himself, when you push it to a point that you truly make him mad, it's more of a snap. The times he'll lay hands on you in a truly violent way are rare, and as aforementioned, very brief. It's usually not so much of actually a blow, so much as a grab. He just can't get what he's trying to tell you through your thick head, so he stresses it, trying to make you understand as he grabs you by the upper arms, shaking you with each word, and he only stops when he sees the pain and fear in your eyes, drawing his hands back at lightning speed. He saves you from some danger very narrowly, one of the few times he lost track of you for a moment and had to frantically search before coming across you being attacked. What would I have done if something happened to you? Don't you understand that? He's so lost in the relief it takes him a moment to feel you beating on his arms in the embrace, choking and wheezing that you can't breathe, that his grip is so tight it feels like he'll snap you in half. He draws back again, and he apologizes, but it will certainly happen more than once.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Above. Like, so, so, so far above. He feels like he doesn't even deserve to look at you. Of course, neither does anyone else, so he's just, you know, stepping up to bear the burden of wrongdoing to keep people even worse than him away from you.

So it's less that you're just above him so much as you're above everyone. He's actually, perhaps surprisingly, a little bit of a pessimist about the world. The world is full of so many terrible people and so many horrible things happen that he's borne witness to. It's a "world cold and hard, (y/n) soft and warm" sort of thing. You're the one good thing, the thing that makes him happy, the ultimate source of comfort he has, and he has to prevent you from being defiled by the evil of the world, keep you innocent and sweet (even if he's just deluding himself to think you are those things in the first place).

This ties into, again, how he interprets every action you take as good and benevolent -- he has the "you can do no wrong" mentality. Even very blatantly malicious things, he'll interpret in a way that makes you somehow still come out a perfect, innocent angel. If you do harm to others, well, they simply deserved it. You did something technically wrong, but you knew no better, or you were desperate. You can't be held responsible for any of it. And if you're mean to him, well, he probably did something to make you upset.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Sort of a duality. Yes, he's very persistent. He thinks about it all the time. Every time you yell and try to run and hurl nasty insults at him, it hurts far more than you realize. He doesn't let it show on his face or in his voice, but it really does, and it gets to him sometimes. He's hyper observant of every little thing you do, your body language, your tone, the way you look at him, and the slightest of differences can change his mood internally, although it tends to look the same outwardly.

He makes little mental notes of it -- today she didn't flinch when I touched her shoulder. Today she didn't frown when she saw me coming. Little things like that will make his entire day. Likewise, the inverse kills him inside. He aims to make every day one of the former days, where the littlest signs of acceptance or even kindness and affection give him a sort of high that makes him feel like he's floating.

He tries his best to do things that he thinks will, well, earn love. Every opportunity to do something for you, he takes it. Everything he sees he'd think you'd like, he buys (or steals, or... loots from a dead body) for you. On and on that idea goes. And although he doesn't say too much, when he does speak to you, he usually has something nice to say. He views it in a formulaic way -- ironically, think about it like those collectibles in overworlds. You get enough of this or that thing, and once you have enough, you can go talk to this or that person and donate them all and get a reward, right? He's accustomed to viewing things that way. Love should be the same way. If he just completes enough tasks and gathers enough items, eventually he'll unlock your love.

That being said, even if it doesn't happen, much to your despair, he just... doesn't. Give. Up. He doesn't quit. No matter how many times you tell him, it doesn't make a difference. You can tell him you'll never love him, and it's like it goes in one ear and out the other. He keeps trying. And he never, ever, ever stops trying. What did you expect? The boy's been fighting the same enemy over and over across lifetimes, needless to say his spirit has build up some persistence.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Bonus: Zelda/Triforce of Wisdom Darling

And don't worry. If it all goes wrong, when he fails, those divergences in time where the hero is vanquished and evil wins out -- it's not the end. Somehow, that's the feeling he gets, holding your little lifeless body up, running hands across your cold skin. Somehow, he feels oddly calm. Like it hurts, but it's ok. Like he'll see you again. Maybe not soon, but one day. This time didn't work out. But the next one will.

And that's the feeling you'll always have. Every time you meet him and you feel like you've met before, the lingering memories when you wake from your dreams -- flying through skies and sailing on oceans, a child, an adult, a boy you've never met, or one you've known all your life, but it's always the same face, the same voice, the one right beside you in the waking world. You sometimes wonder if he has the same feelings, the same dreams, the same sense of something greater than yourselves at work, the sense of being just smaller pieces in a much bigger picture.

The sense of permanency, that each other is all there will ever be -- regardless of how it makes you feel, regardless of how that scares you, sometimes you feel like you can never be free. Sometimes, when you think of running away, those dark moments when you think of even escaping from life itself, it feels futile. It's as if you know it would never hold him away forever. As if death is insignificant. Perhaps in this lifetime, you'll become aware of why that is, or perhaps not.

With other obsessive lovers, just the idea of til death do us part is a terrifying thought. But, for Link, not even death can keep him away from you. Your suffering is already determined by the will of higher power, for the sake of a greater good.

In truth, it’s the goddesses who made him this way intentionally -- it’s designed to ensure your safety, even at the cost of your suffering. Again, for a greater good. Sure, you may live one lifetime to the next desperately locked in the same cycle in which your freedom and will is stripped from you, but in the end, it serves a purpose.

Nor will he change -- perhaps this one this time is a bit more spirited, more calm, more pessimistic, more optimistic... but in the end, at their core, they're the same soul, with the same will deep, deep down. The same drive to find you and protect you. The same love for you, an all-consuming love that destroys everything in its path to you and leaves ruin in its wake.

And if fate should one day keep you apart, should things change, for whatever reason, it’s unable to change him. There's another force even more powerful than fate determined to keep you together. The only thing more unavoidable, inevitable, and unescapable than fate, is Link himself.

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General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

In moments of passion, he changes a bit, unlike other more submissive yans who stay consistent in their reverence and desire to please.

You see, after a while, being as lenient and tolerant and flexible and completely devoted as he is... constantly self-sacrificing in so many ways, to you, to Hyrule, to the world... some frustrations build up. It's a big, big bottle of emotion, all tucked away and festering, getting greater and greater and eventually it has to explode somehow.

His reservations and inhibitions fall away. Perhaps a darker, more selfish side comes out. Perhaps that's why he's so rough. He knows he'll regret it later, the bruises from how hard he grips, the marks from the bites, but the hormones and the heat takes over. He'll feel bad for defiling you. He'll apologize. And he'll do it again. And again. And again.

But once the resolve crumbles, it topples. That is, he can't partially maintain it -- if it's partially gone, it falls apart completely. He lets go, so to speak. And when he lets go, you find that underneath that carefully constructed resolve and willpower that holds him back, he can be a very, very rough and possessive lover. In his normal state, he wouldn't dare think of you as a possession, or as something he's even worthy of. He would like so, so much to think that, to feel like he's allowed to -- but he doesn't. He chastises himself for even having such a desire. But in those moments, when his resolve is gone and his brain isn't thinking quite too clearly, he might even have to audacity to say "mine." Even if it's not true, not now, maybe it will be. He would like that so much. His and his alone.

And in a moment of clarity, he might even throw away the inhibition on purpose. The more selfish side, the same Link that drags you away from your destiny -- he's already forsaken his responsibilities, hasn't he? Why care anymore about the structures that no longer exist, your status and his, if there's no kingdom left? He likes that it happened, even. This way, this time, you can throw off those titles, those roles. Without your status, your title, there's nothing stopping him from making you his. And you will be his, and nothing more. It's all you need to be. So he doesn't have to care anymore about any of that, he doesn't have to stop himself from going wild. Biting into every little spare patch of skin, covering your body with marks that make him feel comforted to see.

As far as drive it's a bit of a two-sided duality. Outwardly he's not a very sexual person at all, blushes and stutters and averts his gaze at the slightest mention of suggestive topics, tries his best to be Respectful(tm) by always looking away when you're in a compromising position, or your skirt flies up, etc etc. Given how constant his vigilance is, he has a tendency to accidentally walk in on your changing or bathing, except unlike with many yanderes, it's genuinely an accident. Not that the image doesn't stick in his mind, nor does he wish he hadn't gotten to see, but he does feel guilty, and it was genuinely unintentional. He kinda freezes up, so it takes a moment for him to actually snap out of it and run out.

That being said, he quickly develops something of a masturbation addiction when he's younger, it starts as more of a stress reliever than anything, He's so sweet and always feels bad about talking about his problems and feelings, so that and, well, violence are the only ways he can get it out. Thus he learns to channel stress and nerves into sexuality, and once he has a real living body and not just his hand, that dependency on cumming to relieve it doesn't change.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Particularly so, yes, cares quite a bit. And it takes a while for him to feel comfortable. Even consensually, the first few times he touches you for several months, he's got trembling hands and stays quieter than ever, constantly freezes up every time you move or make a noise because he thinks he's done something wrong. He has to be coaxed into feeling more comfortable before he gets used to it, but he will build confidence over time.

As addressed before, though, if he's pushed and pushed and pushed long enough, you can get a darker side to come out. This is most likely something that would only occur post-kidnapping in a distant time, once he's far away from any possibility of consequence and destruction has set in to the world around you. He starts to get a little bitter, if you've been mean to him. It all builds up. Don't you get that he's literally saved your life? That he devoted every waking second to you? Isn't he kinda entitled to some thanks? The cycle of time never rewards him. Even the figures he helps over time rarely give him more than a verbal praise and thanks, maybe an item here or there, and then disappear. His role feels thankless. He starts to feel like he deserves something, something tangible, in return.

Surprisingly, though, he actually does not take the route of guilt-tripping or emotional manipulation or gaslighting his way into it like a lot of the sweeter yanderes when he does have that snap. His snaps/breakdowns are rather extreme in terms of how much of a polar opposite they are to his normal state, rather than just a slight bend of his normal personality. Rather than taking the route of most yanderes like himself, he just gets directly physically forceful. Still somewhat sweet, though, reminds you he loves you, he'd die for you, you're his entire world. You'd argue that doesn't really change the actions, but considering how frightening he is in that state, you're not dumb enough to vocalize that.

The guilt consumes him alive afterwards. Like, immediately afterwards. He's still panting and twitching and buried inside when it sets in. That being said, he doesn't get to stuttering and profusely apologizing, like he does over smaller offenses. It's all done and he can't take it back, so he just kinda collapses and says nothing. He's not the best with words, you know. It's an odd mixture of guilt and, honestly, a bit of satisfaction and relief. It feels like letting go of some self-imposed burden, that feeling of finally surrendering to some deep want, even if it comes with a lot of remorse, the relief of finally letting go does have a good feeling as well... and because of that, it’s another one of those barriers that, once broken, can’t be built up again.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

In all honesty the boy is, for the most part, a fairly gentle and vanilla lover. He doesn't really need anything special to get off -- he's easily excited and cums very very easily too. Just the prospect of getting to stick his dick in you in any capacity is enough to make him nearly burst at the thought honestly.

In general, as aforementioned, he's very very cautious and gentle to a point, but has a tendency to get actually kinda rough once he gets into it. The thing is, the roughness aspect is actually unintentional. He's one of those boys that is a little bit unaware of his own strength, doesn't process exactly how hard and fast he's going. He just gets lost in the feeling, kinda enters a dazed lusty haze where he's less aware of his actions. Doesn't realize he's literally got an iron grip pressing your head down on his dick or into the bed until you start flailing your hands because you can't breathe. Doesn't realize how hard he was gripping until he sees the bruises on your arms and hips later. That sort of deal -- poor thing is just unaware and doesn't have enough blood in his brain to think straight.

Biting

Surprisingly a really big one for him. (Remnants of a past life cycle with some lupine experiences perhaps?) In all seriousness, he could not explain exactly why if asked, it's one of those "I just like it" sort of things. It feels like yet another way to conjoin the two bodies, pulls you close. The marking aspect is also nice. Granted, he feels guilty afterwards, tries to help it heal. He has that same duality where moments ago he was this intimidating beast of a human being, rough and growly and jerking you like you were weightless, and now he's back to this bright eyed softie stuttering while he apologizes.

The guilt is mixed with a bit of enjoyment, though. It's constantly conflicting -- sure, part of him understands it's embarrassing and will help you cover up, but part of him doesn't want to, he wants people to see. Part of him looks at the marks and tells himself internally to never do that again, and part of him sees them and just wants to give you even more. It's a constant internal conflict, poor thing.

As far as a place, he likes the neck and shoulders best, simply because it's the most visible and it's the most passionate ones to create, when your bodies are tightly locked together. That being said, though, he also has a thing for biting at the insides of your thighs. It's another one of those I just like it sort of things.

Sometimes, when you're asleep, or pretending to be, you can feel him trace the bite marks with his fingers, softly running them over the circular pattern, just enough to barely ghost over your flesh.

Somnophilia

It puts him at ease. This one is particularly prevalent towards the beginning of your relationship, before you really know... how he is. He has this image of you as so pure and he couldn't bear the thought of defiling you with his horrible horrible thoughts. The guilt eats away at him for a while, but eventually he just can't hold back, but how could he ever do anything to you and risk consequence? So... the solution he comes up with is waiting until you sleep.

He tests the waters to see how heavy of a sleeper you are. Calls your name at increasing volume, lightly runs his fingers over your hair, pokes your face, whispers in your ear, runs his hands over your arms. Just to see what makes you rustle, if anything, so he knows the limits. If it turns out you're an incredibly light sleeper, well, unfortunately that means he's limited to just jerking off to your sleeping form, but that's ok. Just seeing your soft face and the cute way you breathe, the slightest way your lips open, that's enough for him.

If it turns out you're a heavier sleeper though, well, he tries to fight the temptation, but ends up going further. Slowly climbs onto your bed, careful to make the weight shift as gently as possible. Slowly pulls the covers back. Runs his hands up and down. It's a lot better when he can actually see your body as he jerks off, honestly. If he's feeling particularly risky, he might press your thighs together, feel how soft your skin is to his cock, how nice the squeezing pressure between them is.

He gets easily lost in a haze, though, so he inevitably ends up accidentally cumming on you and has to frantically find a way to lightly dab it up without waking you. He panics quite a bit, but that doesn't stop him from doing it again the very next night.

Overstimulation/Forced Orgasm

It just means he's doing a good job, really. Sure, you squeal and kick your feet back and forth and tug at his hair, but that's just because it feels good. Orgasms equate to love and feel good, right? Sure there's a little bit of pain when you go overboard, but then it just leads to feeling even better, right?

It's kind of an irrational compulsion rather than a logical goal, though. He just has an impulsive need to feel you quiver and spasm and clench, it basically gives him a chemical high hit and a wave of reassurance, makes him feel good in both the physical sense and the emotional sense. The first one sends him into this compulsive need to feel it over and over and over again, as many times as he can. It's another one of his internal conflict things -- sure, he knows it's hurting, but he just has to get one more. Just one more. But of course, every time turns into "just one more" when he's been saying that for half an hour now.

And, to be honest, it kind of gives him a pride boost to think he can make you cum against your will. How many people struggle to achieve that even when both parties are trying? It makes him feel good in an adequacy sort of way, he feels needed.

Size Kink/Distension

You know, there's a well-known thing among the male-lovers in this world when it comes to size. It's never the arrogant, loud guys, it's never the social butterflies, it's never the tall guys, it's never the beefy muscly guys. No, they're not the ones that end up somehow bestowed with absolute monster cocks. It's always the soft, lean boys who don't talk much. And they're always painfully unaware of it, too.

He's no exception. Not to the size or the complete lack of awareness. He hasn't spent a lot of time around guys his age too much, he's always been the one sent for some special task and ends up out in the wilderness by himself on journeys, or, in some lifetimes, accompanying you most of the time. He doesn't know what the average dick looks like, so he has no idea he's far above average.

This might sound like a plus, and of course in some ways it is, but also he doesn't think about the fact that the average body isn't properly equipped to handle it. You're supposed to just kinda put it in, that's how the sex works, right? Poor thing, especially if it's entirely consensual sex, he's just kinda ???? because why are you in pain? What is he doing wrong? You have to eventually explain it's literally just his body, not something he's doing.

That being said, naturally, he's a humble person, but hearing you say that does kinda... make him feel good inside. A little bit proud. He's not a person who takes a lot of pride in many things, so he likes having this one thing, and quickly notices you can visibly see it through the bulge it makes in your stomach. Especially if it's in a position where your back is pressed to his front, every little movement creates the bulge, so expect to get a lot of that.

He doesn't really bring it up much or talk about it when he's actually fucking you, it's more like, as with many things, something he's quietly aware of and silently enjoys a lot internally, even if it's not voiced.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Yes and no. It has to do with his overactive protection instinct. What if something happened or went wrong? He couldn't take that. He couldn't lose you.

At the same time, he likes kids, and he's very good with them, very patient. And over time, realizes that a kid would be the perfect tool of manipulation, and besides that, isn't it a beautiful thing, an ultimate manifestation of love?

So how to work around that... Ultimately, what he decides to do is have a kid... Just not by blood. There are plenty of orphans in Hyrule, wandering the streets and the wilderness, picking one up is easy. ...You wouldn't leave this poor child to suffer out there, to fend for themselves, would you? Nor would you leave him to take care of it by himself... Right?

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Oh, it's not like he thinks of it that way. He would call it... a reminder. You put yourself in danger again? You tried to go back again? You were gone and for ten whole minutes he didn't know where you were? What could the solution to this issue be? The only thing his brain can really come up with is making sure you need him. Making sure you're content and satisfied here with him so you don't go running off.

Thus we return to the forced orgasm thing -- see, you do need him. It feels good, right? You say it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but ultimately you wouldn't be cumming if it wasn't good. No one else can ever do that. No one else knows you like this. No one else was made for you like this. You can't replace him. You need him. And he can keep going as many times as it takes until you see that, too. Even if he gets milked dry, he has a mouth and hands for a reason.

And by "until you see that," I mean until you say it. In his more... emotionally intense moments, he gets a bit insistent. He needs to hear you say it. Admit it to yourself. And to him. That you need him, that you depend on him, that you'll never leave again. And don't think your patience and tolerance can stand a chance of outlasting his -- it will keep going until you say it.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

He's one of those wholesome type of boys who goes with something sweet. He says maybe your hair, your face, your skin, your eyes. It's all so comforting. So familiar. Of course, not to say that he doesn't like your less wholesome mentionable parts, but he wants to be chivalric about such a question, and feels answering that way would be too disrespectful.

In his unspoken thoughts, though, he likes the hips. It's a part of you he can grab onto and hold you close with. He puts his hands there a lot and holds tight, like he feels like at any moment you could slip out of his grasp. And, I mean, it's nice to look at, can't forget that.

#atml #scheduled post #yandere x reader #yandere legend of zelda #yandere link

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tender-rosiey · 3 years

Note

hi hi <3 it’s my first time requesting so i’m excited ! I was wondering if you could possibly do a comfort headcanon for gojo, megumi, and Itadori... like their s/o has been really down lately but they didn’t mention anything and continue smiling... until they get caught crying (you don’t have to include this part if you don’t want to !)

the characters knew it was a fake smile and crying made that clear so they try to like comfort/reassure them!

female s/o pls ^ !!

- mya :)

❥ JJK characters comforting s/o

❥— Includes Megumi, Itadori and Gojo

ᴀ/ɴ: I LOVE COMFORT SCENARIOS ALSO HI BBY <3 ; I am honored that you requested something from me, and I hope you like this 🥺💘

Gojo Satoru:

Gojo is observant

But he wanted to wait until you came to him and told him that you are bothered

It would show that you trusted him

However there are limits

If you are feeling down and acting like everything is alright

Then he will, with no hesitation, comfort you and make you smile once again.

He knew from the beginning there was something wrong. It was pretty obvious to him, those eyes that shined brighter than the sun when happy are hiding the rain it wanted to let out.

He wanted to see when and if you will come to him for comfort like you both do with each other, but you never did. In contrast, you actually went on with your day with fake smiles and reassurance. He had to confront you about it.

He never liked seeing you down.

So at the end of the day when you are both free with no distractions and no one to stop him from ditching his work for you, he approached your room and knocked on your door.

He heard sniffles and sobs that broke his heart, and that indicated that he had to talk to you now or you will sleep with grey clouds covering the sky of your mind. He opened the door and said your name unusually quiet “Y/N?..”

You slowly looked up to him with puffy eyes and quivering lips to which he neared towards your figure and cupped your cheek. “Angel, what has got you so sad?” He gently spoke and shifted you to be on his lap.

After explaining what has been troubling you to your lover, you watched him rubbing his chin in a thinking way then smirking. That smirk was then followed by you being tickled by him until you cried from laughter, not the sadness.

He peppered your face with kisses then asked with a smile “Feeling better?” He nuzzled your noses together and reminded you “you know you can always come to me when you are sad, right?” You nodded looking away.

But then you asked, “Satoru, how did you even know I was sad?” To which he straightened his posture proudly and took his blindfold off “Oh Y/N! My dear royal, my eyes see through anything-“ “so the great Gojo Satoru had to use superpowers to know that his lover is upset?”

“WHAT NO I CAN DO IT WITHOUT ANYTHING; WE BOTH KNOW I AM WONDERFUL AND AMAZING BOYFRIEND >:(“

By the end of his defense, you were laughing while he looked at you with love and adoration in his eyes. He swore before to protect you and this smile. For they have been some of the main things that made it easier for him.

Itadori Yuuji:

Itadori notices quickly when you are down

He will try to cheer you up before anything

And will ask if you are alright or not with concern swimming in his eyes

When you brush it off, he will be beside you the whole time as support

And when you can’t hold it anymore, he will still be there

Both of you are usually pretty energetic, or at least mix together well and can have lots of fun and smiles. Another reason to why he notices when you are down quite fast, to which he decided to try and cheer you up until you are comfortable with telling him.

He quoted movies, jokes and made a fool out of himself for the sake of your smile, for yes it came but still the blue in your eyes was evident. He got you what you liked of food and gifts and asked you if you are well only to be met by a ‘it’s nothing’.

“Well, I will stay by your side until you feel alright with telling me and even if you don’t, I will still be here for you.”

And he was true to his words, he kept by your side and whenever he had the chance to do something funny he did with no hesitation.

He figured maybe your favorite food would help as well as sometime alone so he kissed your forehead before going on his merry way to get you something that will fill your tummy with a luscious feeling.

Just as he was re-entering your room once again with a big smile, he was met by your shaking figure and your broken sobs that cause his heart to break. He despised seeing you sad; he put the food down slowly and made his way towards you.

He sat beside you hugging you slowly and rubbing your back. He helped you lay down on him and started whispering sweet nothings into your ear; “calm down babe, it will be alright, I promise.”

As well as reassuring you once again that he will be here for you always, some time passes by and he is still trying to sooth your troubled self and calm down your breathing and then he was met with soft snores coming from you and a peaceful look on your face.

Life has been overwhelming, you just needed to let out all what you have been bottling inside. Thankfully, he was there for you when you decided your breaking point and let your tears flow. He was always going to be there.

He never was letting you be vulnerable alone.

Fushiguro Megumi:

Another observant one, but silent with judgements

He is aware of your moods and when you are faking it or not

He will let you to sort things alone first, thinking you don’t want anyone to talk to you about it

But when he sees it’s gradually getting worst then he will check up on you as fast as he could

You balanced out the silence that he brought with himself, it made his day better every time he saw your smile and heard your voice. But today there was a difference in them, a difference that apparently only he took notice of.

Your smiles seemed forced, your voice was quivering or cracked mid-sentence, he didn’t like how you were barely holding yourself back from breaking down right then and there. Yet as much as he loathed it, he wanted you to try and solve the matters yourself.

He didn’t want you to think that he saw you as someone who can’t deal with their emotions and needed others for comfort. But no one said comfort from others is taboo, he just thought that you would prefer solving it alone.

Not to mention that you already were at your limit, if anyone were to talk to you about it you were to reach the pit point and he didn’t want others to see you in your weakness. However, his plan was foiled as your state kept getting worst and no positive changes were visible.

Right after his errand, he rushed to your room but his steps flattered as he was near your door in order not to jump scare you. He slowly opened it and went to you crouching in front of you, you were hugging your knees with tears falling like a never ending waterfall.

He held your hand tenderly then squeezed it softly. He wanted you to know you are not going through this alone, that he is there for you now and forever. He stroked your hair lovingly and said your name like a lullaby to make his presence known.

Perhaps his voice will be the one to defeat the monsters raiding your mind.

You snaked your arms around his torso and he pulled you closer to your chest and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand never stopping it’s caress. He rocked your body against his own own gently until your sobs died out.

It was only you and him now.

“Color?”

It was a simple question, while yes most used it as a lewd question, you two used it to indicate your moods. When you muttered a soft ‘yellow..’ his heart rested assured, you were alright now.

Yes he was awkward with affection but if it was to make you feel better then all this awkwardness was all thrown out of the window. You are his priority at all times, he promised to protect you from everything.

Even if it was the wicked monsters of your mind.

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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l-r-christian · 3 years

Text

Title: Fake it until you love me - Epilogue

Part 4

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x F!Human!Reader

Summary: After Kris's wedding, Y/N and Elijah began dating and now it is Y/N's big day. But someone decided to show their face again.

Warnings: Fluff, asshole ex, bitchy sister

Tag list: @smailaway - @jordynhouston - @rere-the-writer - @just-another-writer-17

It was a cold morning as it was the big day for both Elijah and Y/N as they were getting married after being engaged for a year. Elijah had asked Y/N to marry him during a visit to Texas for Christmas and being the gentleman he was. Elijah had asked Big Daddy for Y/N's hand in marriage making Big Daddy grin and slapped Elijah on the shoulder taking the Original ring shopping. Elijah had proposed on Christmas morning with Y/N sitting next to a every pregnant Kris while Amelia saw the small box and thought the gift was for her.

"There is one more gift." Amelia said picking the box up with a grin as everyone looked over while Elijah stood up from his spot next to Granny M taking the box from the blonde making her think that Elijah finally see she was the better choice. But Elijah walked over Y/N getting her attention as he got on one knee as Y/N began to tear up finding hard to breath.

"Elijah?" She whispered as Elijah smiled gently opening the box to show a beautiful engagement ring of Y/N's birthstone sitting in the middle of a circle of diamonds resting on a rose gold band. Y/N's eyes filled with tears as Elijah gently took her hand as her family watched surprised.

"Y/N, I have loved many over the years but you managed to take my breath away. I thought I was complete before you came crashing into my life. I found you make me complete, Y/N....you have become my better half. You make want to be the best man for you. So may I be honored to be called your husband?" Elijah proposed as Y/N covered her mouth as tears rolled down her face.

"Sweetpea, say yes." Loretta whispered yelled crying as Granny M teared up while Kris was sniffling next to her big sister, Big Daddy had a proud smile on his face while Amelia was shocked.

"......Yes.....I would love to marry you." Y/N breathed out as Elijah smiled brightly and slipped the ring on her finger as Y/N cupping his face kissing him gently and was set to marry the Original. While at first Loretta was annoyed that Y/N wanted to marry in New Orleans and not in the family home but when they came down to the Mikaelson home, Y/N's mother changed her tune. Y/N found it a little scary how well Kris got along with Kol leaving a poor Luke making sure his wife and Kol wasn't getting too crazy while Rebekah and Freya glared at Amelia.

"Now aren't you gorgeous." Klaus said walking into the room with Hope running in smiling brightly her eyes lighting up seeing Y/N in her wedding dress. The dress hugged her perfectly with a low cut neckline and sheer long flowy sleeves.

"Need something Nik?" Y/N asked picking up Hope smiling softly at the girl who reached up fixing the small tiara on Y/N's head.

"Hope wanted to see you and Elijah is getting antisec. Who knew my brother would be so upset for not being able to see you for three days. I must say your sister is fast for woman who is three months pregnant."

"It is a Prescott tradition that the bride doesn't see her husband until the wedding." Loretta said fixing the train of lace that was the veil that was passed down to each Prescott lady. Hope's blue eyes twinkled when Y/N placed the girl down while Klaus had a proud smile on his face as he couldn't wait to call Y/N sister.

"You look like a princess." Hope said as Y/N blushed tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as Klaus leaned against the door frame watching Loretta readied her daughter for the wedding. Granny M walked in not before gently patting Klaus's cheek when he smiled at the old woman. Over the last few days of getting to know the Mikaelsons, Granny M had baby them and spoiled them with food and love as in return they adored the old woman.

"That she does honeybee." Granny said smiling as Hope smiled at the old woman seeing her carrying a box and place it down on the vanity. Y/N watched the old woman open the box to show the Prescott family sapphire necklace and she saw Granny M had a pendant made of the Mikaelson's family Crest to be put on the necklace.

"As tradition the oldest Prescott woman gives a gift to the bride." Granny said as Y/N teared up finding it just beautiful moving to sit so Granny could put the necklace on the bride's neck.

"Alright little wolf, we need to get you ready to be the flower girl." Klaus says as Hope smiled brightly and looked up at her newest aunt.

"Don't worry aunt Y/N, I'll be the best flower girl." Hope said proudly pulling a smile from Y/N watching the girl running out as Klaus followed after. Loretta helped Y/N finish getting ready as Big Daddy came to walk her down the aisle but seeing his little girl in her wedding dress made him tear up.

Everyone was ready and stood as the bridal march began as Elijah stood at the altar wanting to see the love of his life and saw her walking down aisle with her father. Elijah felt his breathing stop find her just so gorgeous as they reach the steps to the altar.

"Take good care of my babygirl." Big Daddy whispered giving Elijah Y/N's hand as Elijah nodded. Y/N kissed her father's cheek then looked at Elijah with a smile as he soften finding his self falling in love all over again.

"Dearily, beloved we are here to bare witness to the union of Elijah Mikaelson and Y/N Prescott. Both had written their own vow." Father Kieran says as Y/N took a deep breath going first as Elijah rubbing her knuckles to calm her as Rebekah handed her Elijah's wedding band.

"Elijah, since I've met you....you had became everything to me. Between my tears and laughs you have been there no matter the problem......and..," Y/N choked up looking at Elijah with teary eyes as he smiled gently," and never in a thousand years would I have thought that I would fall in love with my best friend...Elijah, I vow to love you Always and Forever." Y/N said as Elijah teared up as his heart bursting with love for the woman in front him as she placed the ring on his finger. Elijah took Y/N's wedding band from Kol smiling softly.

"Y/N, you have became my dearest love. I find myself falling more and more in love with you and as you know it is not easy for me to open up yet....you make it easy. I didn't believe in soulmates before you but now I believe she is standing in front of me. I vow to love you Always and Forever." Elijah says as Y/N was crying and Elijah kissed her knuckles placing the wedding band on her finger.

"Before I bless them in holy matrimony. Is there anyone who believes these two should not be married please speak now or forever hold your peace." Father Kieran said when someone cleared their throat getting everyone's attention as they looked seeing it was James Maxwell standing there dress to impressed.

"I do." James said smirking as Y/N blinked as Elijah growled lowly moving to block James from looking at his wife while the Mikaelsons glared at the man Y/N wondering just how in the hell did James knew she was getting married and she looked to the crowd seeing Amelia smirking.

"As I think it is only right that Y/N marries the father of her child." James said walking down the aisle still smirking as she froze as no one but Kris and Amelia knew she was pregnant. Elijah looked at Y/N silently asking if it was true that she was indeed pregnant and she nodded while Freya was more shocked the most which Elijah noted to ask her later about it.

"James, it isn't yours."

"How would Elijah know? After all you came to see me that night."

"You mean you came drunk off your ass to our hotel room demanding she takes you back!" Kris said looking ready to throw hands but both Luke and Kol tried to calm her and get her to sit down. Y/N reached out grabbed the back of Elijah's suit jacket to stop him from killing the human male so Elijah returned to the altar nodding to Father Kieran who understood.

"I now pronounce you, husband and wife. Elijah, you may kiss the bride." The Father said as Elijah cupped Y/N's face kissing her deeply her nipped at her bottom lip pulling a quiet moan from his wife. Y/N gripping Elijah's suit jacket as he pulled away rubbing her now swollen her swollen lip smirking at her flushed face noticing needy look in her eyes then looked at James still smirking.

"I now believe, Y/N is now my wife so now you can't have her." Elijah says stepping down the steps of the altar and holding his hand out to his wife helping her down the steps and kissed her hand. Klaus stood up putting an arm around James taking him outside with a deadly smirk on his face while everyone moved to the reception.

"Nik, isn't going to kill James. Right?"

"Niklaus, wouldn't ruin today with death. Now go have your first dance with your father,I need to talk to Freya." Elijah says and Y/N leaned up kissing his cheek the went to dance with her father. Elijah gently pulled Freya aside wanting answers.

"It was an wedding gift. About two months earlier I found an old spell that would allow vampires to have children and Klaus told me you always wanted a child. So I did the spell with the help of Vincent." Freya answered watching Elijah while biting the inside of her cheek. Elijah smiled gently hugging Freya happy that his sister giving him the best gift.

"Thank you Freya."

"Did you learn what you wanted from Freya?" Y/N asked as she danced with Elijah who smiled touched her forehead with his.

"I have. No need to worry my beautiful wife." Elijah said softly swaying with Y/N moving his face to her neck burying his face there taking in her scent. Y/N smiled kissing Elijah's temple lacing her fingers with his as he pulled her closer. Hope came skipping up with a bright smile on her face getting their attention.

"May I cut in uncle Elijah?" Hope ask as Elijah chuckled nodding moving watching his wife pick up his niece to dance and Granny took the chance to dance with her favorite dance partner.

"I must apologize on how you found out that Y/N was pregnant."

"Don't be. Your brother was sweet enough to get James out before Kris could hurt the man. Besides I am not ashamed of you both as I was pregnant on my wedding day." Granny M tells Elijah patting his cheek with a smile and he returned the smile.

Amelia sat at the bar drinking annoyed that for once a guy stayed with Y/N also annoyed her plan for James to ruin the wedding fell though. Her blue eyes fell on Elijah seeing him with Loretta who was smiling telling Elijah she was happy for him and Y/N which annoyed Amelia even more as she thought her mother would be on her side as the blonde had always go what she wanted.

"I find it disgusting how you treat your sister." Rebekah says getting Amelia's attention and she rolled her eyes going back to staring at Elijah watching Kris ask for a dance which Elijah happily said yes while Klaus danced with Y/N both sharing soft laughs.

"Do you need something?" Amelia asked annoyed looking at Rebekah and Hayley came up sitting on the other side Amelia. The female hybrid was the one who was angry with Amelia the most as she saw Y/N as the little sister she never had.

"I agree with Rebekah."

"Look ladies, when you look like me things fall into your lap. I want Elijah but he married the sad sack of a sister." Amelia said sipping her drink as both Hayley and Rebekah looked at one another.

"But I'm not too worried about it. Married men cheat all the time." Amelia smirked then was surprised when both women dragged her off to where no one could see.

"You would forget your feelings for Elijah and let Y/N be happy with Elijah. You'll forget this happen." Rebekah compelled Amelia then let her go as Rebekah and Hayley watching Amelia walk off smiling.

"This is lovely." Elijah said with a smile as Y/N turned around cheeks flushing seeing him without tie and his hair a mess as Y/N had never found Elijah more attractive than she did now. Elijah stepped out taking off his suit jacket and placed it on her shoulders seeing her shivering.

"Always the gentleman." Y/N teased Elijah as he smiled cupping her cheek as she pressed close.

"For you, yes." Elijah said softly capturing her lips in a heated kiss pulling her even closer then pulled away seeing her cheeks were flushed as he put his forehead against hers.

"Hmm, I love you Eli Always and Forever." Y/N said wrapping her arms around his neck as Elijah swayed them both.

"I love you and our soon to be little one, Always and Forever." Elijah said smiling as Y/N layed her head against his chest. They both enjoy a quiet dance under the stars promises of forever.

#elijah mikaelson fluff #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #The originals #L.R writes

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thefirstknife · 3 years

Note

Help, I ran Garden of Salvation with some clan mates and i'm Experiencing Great Sadness about the Kentarch 3 again.

I haven't been following you since shadowkeep, and was wondering if you had some theories about what happened, because a lot is left unexplained, specifically about Lisbon-13's motivations. The story from Yardarm-4's perspective shows that something is influencing them before they accept power (stasis teaser?) from the darkness. Do you think they really had a choice? Do you think he was influenced in his decision to kill them? If so, why? As a test just for him? Presumably he's still out there somewhere, and I can't tell from the lorebooks whether Rekkana let him kill her first or not. I just feel so bad for them, they all loved each other. Yardarm probably took the power in the first place to help get them out safely. Do you think it'll ever get concluded? The whole lore series seems interestingly close to what happens with Shayura, just sort of in reverse.

Kentarch 3 fireteam and the whole story on the Garden of Salvation armour and the associated weapons and equipment is amazing and very interesting, I agree. I haven't talked about it before but it's a good thing to revisit every so often! I think there's still a lot we don't really understand, mostly due to not fully understanding the power of the Black Garden.

In short for the general audience, Kentarch 3 was a fireteam that consisted of Yardarm-4 (Titan), Rekkana (Warlock) and Lisbon-13 (Hunter). They went to explore the Black Garden at the behest of the Warlock order called the Cryptochrons which Rekkana was a part of. This order got exiled some time after Osiris for dabbling in prophecies. Cryptochrons were formed around a Oneiromantic Circle and led by a Sibyl (or multiple sibyls; or Sibyl was just a name of one member, it's unclear). Oneiromancy is the practice of interpreting dreams to predict the future and sibyls were ancient Greek female prophets and oracles.

I didn't think this would get long but it did so the rest under the cut:

The Cryptochron order continued operating after its exile and Rekkana received a prophecy from them that revolved around a fireteam learning about the Black Garden and retrieving from it a Vex relic of some sort. The relic is the exotic weapon Divinity and the lore tab on it details the prophecy they were chasing:

"And after any other Cryptochrons they learn of. But your path is more dangerous than most. The Circle has foreseen many fireteams following in your footsteps. You can find the knowledge the order seeks at the Tree."

"Can? Not will?" For the first time, Rekkana sounded concerned.

"The Circle has had limited success in piercing the veil that surrounds the Black Garden, so the order offers no certainties. They say that a group of Guardians will discover secrets about the origin of the Black Garden at the Tree. The Oneiromantic Circle foresees no reason why it will not be the Kentarch 3."

"Nor can I. But…?"

"There is another thread in the tapestry, entwined with this one. The Vex, or some fractal faction of them, worship or honor a… divinity there."

"The Black Heart? It was destroyed."

"Yes, but this is something different. An object. Something like a sacred relic. It is important to the Vex for reasons that we have not yet fathomed. The Circle has determined that it is dangerous—"

"A Vex weapon?"

"Perhaps," the Sybil sounded annoyed at the interruption. "Rekkana, the Circle concluded that it is a danger to you."

"To me? But then, why send me on this mission?"

"When the Circle dreamed of the object, you were beside it."

They agreed that, should they find this object, Lisbon should be the one to carry it. They did find it and he was indeed the one to carry it, as is shown later in another lore tab detailed below.

We know that Lisbon-13 killed the rest of his fireteam because they got corrupted by the Black Garden, something happened to their Ghosts (they all just dropped down and started losing their Light) and then turned on him. He was being hunted and he really had no choice. But he couldn't live with it. In Beyond Light, he's shown trying to kill his Ghost in order to stay permanently dead because he couldn't bear the burden of what he did to his fireteam, even though his actions were justified and he acted in self-defence.

But before he managed to do that, he was faced with his own doppleganger, just like the YW at the end of Shadowkeep. In the end, Lisbon didn't kill his Ghost because the doppleganger offered him power and Lisbon (presumably) chose to take it: his wish was simply to make himself forget about his fireteam (and Rekkana specifically, whom he loved). It's implied that he accepted and after that, we have no formal information what happened.

The outcome of what happened to Kentarch 3 is somewhat known, as detailed in this ship lore. The Vanguard knows Lisbon killed the other two, they're not sure when they lost their Ghosts and they have not found anyone's body, not even Lisbon's. But we know from the lore that came out after that Lisbon accepted the deal with his doppleganger and we have no idea what that entailed. Is he still in the Black Garden? Was he killed? Replaced? Just memory-wiped and sent back? Something else entirely? We'll explore at the end.

I'm pretty sure the voices they heard talking to them were also their own dopplegangers. And it's somewhat implied that they made some sort of a bargain and accepted "new powers" that came "from the wrong side." There's only one description of it:

Her fist glimmered and quaked with an unfamiliar power. She only had to release her grip, and that energy would rip through him, burning without fire.

That's Rekkana attacking Lisbon. It's never fully explained what it is, but it could very well be some sort of prototype Stasis in my opinion. Or some other Darkness power. Not sure why the Black Garden would give them this, which is why I think they simply harnessed the power of their dopplegangers. This is something that's been mentioned a few times in regards to Darkness: duplication. Same is present with the Taken as well (Taken psions duplicate). I mentioned the duplication theme being discussed in Clovis' journal before too.

Honestly, I can't make any definitive conclusion, but Kentarch 3 definitely found something horrifying in the Black Garden and fell to its influence. They also reference doing the puzzles to get Divinity, which they got and Lisbon used it to kill the other two.

Garden of Salvation raid ends with a Pyramid scale opening up and leading us down into the area with the Darkness statue. I think this could've easily been some sort of a lead into the future of Destiny and the powers of Darkness. Kentarch 3 may have accidentally received this power early on or were perhaps some sort of a test the Darkness did on Guardians before offering them Stasis for real.

It's an interesting story and yep, it does mirror Shayura's fireteam and how the story is told! Each member of the fireteam tells the same story from their own POV on armour for that class. I'll link all of them in order, roughly how I think it's best to read each POV:

Rekkana: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Yardarm-4: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Lisbon-13: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

I like how the armour follows the same name pattern: Righteousness, Exaltation, Transcendence, Ascendancy and Temptation.

Associated Garden of Salvation weapons also have some tidbits of lore that might help, namely:

Ancient Gospel Hand Cannon:

"These forces have existed forever, but only one of them speaks to us." —Rekkana, Warlock of the Kentarch 3

Sacred Provenance Pulse Rifle:

"These gifts were not made for us, but we were meant to have them." —Rekkana, Warlock of the Kentarch 3

Zealot's Reward Fusion Rifle:

"Why not use these gifts we've been given?" —Yardarm-4, Titan of the Kentarch 3

I would really like to learn more about them, and specifically Lisbon because he might be able to actually tell us what happened. He or his Ghost, Piri, who managed to survive last we've seen her. I think the Ghost might be able to give the most accurate version of events. It's interesting that Lisbon was very much against whatever power they received and that was the reason he abandoned his fireteam, which made the other two consider him a traitor to their friendship.

Very intriguing lore story that could possibly be mentioned again in some form. Also as a brighter note, yes, Yardarm literally flew into the Black Garden with an entire ship and crash landed inside. On a less brighter note, we've never seen the remains of a ship in there (to be fair, Black Garden is huge) and it's somewhat implied that they entered through the Vex Gate on Mars which puts the timeline of when they got there into question. The Vex Gate on Mars that led into the Black Garden was destroyed in the Red War. The new gate showed up on the Moon in Shadowkeep (and you can't fly a ship into it because it's in a cave).

An additional note which answers certain things when it comes to Lisbon's fate that I hinted at before: in order to acquire the quest for Divinity, you have to go to the Moon to the Vex Gate for the first time. The gate will open up and a Vex mind will come out. This giant Vex minotaur is called Zeteon, Redemptive Mind. Upon killing this minotaur, you receive "Divine Fragmentation" quest. Details of the quest here. You pick up a Vex core that has strange readings coming from it and you have to decipher it by running it through various Vex technology. Once fully completed, you have to go into Garden of Salvation, do the Divinity puzzles and the weapon will drop from the extra chest at the end.

Why am I mentioning this? Well. Zeteon, Redemptive Mind drops a core that contains information about how to get Divinity. Lisbon was the member of the fireteam that held Divinity and used it to kill his fireteam. There's a quote from Lisbon on the weapon called Accrued Redemption:

"I should never have let it come to this. Now each arrow is a penance." —Lisbon-13, Hunter of the Kentarch 3

Divinity's perks are called Judgement and Penance.

Basically, I believe that whatever deal Lisbon accepted that made him forget his fireteam, free him from the suffering and redeem him ended with him being converted into Zeteon, Redemptive Mind. It's the reason why this Vex in particular had the pieces needed to construct Divinity again. Lisbon was the last person who had it. Becoming the bearer of parts needed for Divinity was both his Judgement and his Penance.

Final note because I love ancient languages being used for the names of things in Destiny: "Zeteon" most likely comes from Greek "zeteo" which means:

to seek, search after, look for

to inquire into, examine, consider

to strive for, desire, wish

Probably tied to Lisbon's search and desire for redemption for what he's done. I think that wraps up his fate quite nicely, although tragically.

#destiny 2 #kentarch 3 #lisbon-13 #rekkana #yardarm-4 #garden of salvation raid #black garden #darkness #vex #ask #long post #anon if you've been wondering what's taking so long for your question to be answered or if i've received the question #this essay is the reason shfksjfhskjfhks

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starkerscoop · 3 years

Text

A Blessing in Disguise

I am very excited to announce that this fic now has a Russian translation! I posted this in October on my old blog, and in honor of having a translation recently written for it, I’ve decided to repost it onto this one!

ao3

Russian translation

content warnings: discussion of abortion, issues with body image and self-esteem, pregnancy, non-graphic birth

Two red lines stared back at him, the image burning itself into his brain. A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him and he stumbled to the ground, too dazed to catch himself. He couldn’t believe that this was happening.

He was pregnant.

He was pregnant, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, too disoriented at the moment to really tell. He was in his mid-twenties; in his prime and at the perfect age to start making pups, according to society.

But Peter didn’t think he was ready. Of course, the Omega in him had yearned quietly for pups ever since he started going through puberty, but Peter’s priority had always been to make a name for himself in science. He wanted to get his PhD and go on to make revolutionary discoveries; to pave the way for all Omegas and prove that his secondary gender couldn’t hold him back. For years, he’d been competing with Alphas, constantly trying to prove his worth. He couldn’t let all of that go down the drain for a pup.

There was Tony to think about, too. Peter had no idea if he would want to be a father, and he was too terrified to imagine his reaction to the news. He toyed briefly with the idea of not telling him, but that thought was quickly pushed out of his brain.

Tony deserved to know, and Peter had to tell him soon; soon enough that he could still get an abortion, if that was what he wanted.

A knock on the bathroom door brought him out of his thoughts.

“Baby?” Tony mumbled tiredly, voice laced with the thickness of sleep. “Are you going to bed soon? You’ve been in there for a while.”

Peter stashed the cluster of pregnancy tests in the back of the cabinets below the sink. He would have to remember to get rid of those the next day, before Tony could find them. Another knock had him rushing to stand up and wash his face, clearing it of his silver tear tracks.

“Pete?” Tony called, louder now and with more concern, still waiting for a response. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Peter answered, unlocking the door and stepping out of the bathroom.

Tony hadn’t finished scanning him for signs of harm when his nose picked up on the distress radiating from Peter’s body. It was a bitter scent; one that itched at Tony’s instincts, making him want to replace it with something more cheerful at once.

“What’s wrong?” Tony pulled him into his warm embrace, rubbing his back in small circles that bunched up his shirt.

Peter was tired of living in fear. Even if he’d only known about his pregnancy for all of ten minutes, he didn’t want to keep it from Tony for any longer. They didn’t keep secrets. They worked hard to keep their relationship honest, and Peter wasn’t going to be the one to ruin that.

“I’m pregnant,” Peter blurted out.

Tony’s hands faltered but remained on his back, which Peter took as a good sign. He didn’t dare to look up at his face, keeping his own hidden in the crook of Tony's neck. After a few minutes of mutual silence, the older man’s hands resumed their movements.

“You’re pregnant,” Tony repeated. “Sweetheart, that’s - that’s amazing.”

“You want to keep it?” Peter questioned, voice void of any judgement.

Tony recoiled away from him. “Do you not want to keep it? It’s your choice, of course, I’ll pay for the expenses either way.”

“I don’t know what I want to do,” Peter admitted smally. “I don’t want to give up everything I’ve worked for to stay home and take care of a pup. I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove that Omegas are more than pup-making machines. And now I’m pregnant.”

“You don’t have to give anything up,” Tony said firmly. “You can keep studying for your PhD, and get a job after that. I’ll stay home with the pup.”

Peter finally looked up at him. “You’d be willing to do that? I know it’s not - traditional, for the Alpha to be the one at home.”

“Fuck traditional,” Tony declared. “That’s our whole motto, honey. We don’t have to be traditional. And frankly, being there for my pup is a lot more important to me than what others will think of it.”

Peter beamed and threw himself onto Tony, who caught him and stumbled back a few steps from the force.

They quickly learned that pregnancy was not fun. At all. Peter spent most of the days of his first trimester alternating between clutching a trash can and a toilet seat, heaving up the contents of his stomach. Tony was always by his side, smoothing his hair away from his sweaty forehead and making him meals he could tolerate.

The second trimester was a lot more enjoyable. Peter’s stomach had settled down, for the most part, and started forming into a baby bump. He and Tony had completely opposite reactions to that.

“I’m so fat now,” Peter wailed into his pillow. “My body is ruined. I’m going to look distorted forever.”

Tony was patient with him, though, hiding his own glee until Peter was in a better mood. He thought that pregnancy looked amazing on Peter; he was practically glowing with it.

“You’ll be back in shape in no time, honey,” Tony assured him. “You’re still gorgeous as ever.”

Even more exciting than watching the baby bump grow was finding out the sex of their pup. Peter held Tony’s hand as they waited, shivering at the cool gel slathered on his abdomen. Slower than the couple would’ve liked, the doctor turned the screen to them.

They were having a boy.

Both Tony and Peter cried that day. They invited their friends over to the penthouse and threw a small party, accepting all of the gifts their friends brought with big smiles.

The third trimester, and thus the birth of their pup, arrived a lot faster than they expected. Tony had been at a meeting when Peter’s water broke, the latter of whom was in too much pain to drive himself to the hospital, and hobbled over to the bathtub instead.

“Boss,” FRIDAY interrupted the shareholder speaking unapologetically, “Peter’s water broke and he is now in labor.”

Tony’s face paled in less than two seconds, and he was out of the meeting room in less than one. He instructed FRIDAY to call the doctor and raced into the elevator, urging his AI to take him up to the penthouse faster than was allowed.

He found Peter curled up in the tub with a pained expression, whimpering in between each contraction as it came and went. He crouched next to him and offered him his hand, grimacing at the strength with which he gripped it.

The doctor joined them twenty minutes later with a nurse at her heels, ushering Tony to the side to crouch in between Peter’s open legs.

Tony knew that Peter would pull through. His mate was strong, with a will that matched his own. That didn’t stop him from wincing at every cry that tumbled out of Peter’s lips, or wishing privately that he’d never gotten him pregnant, because that way he wouldn’t be in pain.

Six hours after Peter went into labor, his groans were silenced by the loud cry of his newborn, who had finally come out. He was dirty, looking more like an organ than a human being, but Tony didn’t get to look at him for very long. The nurse whisked the child away while the doctor finished up with Peter.

Tony stayed with Peter, running his fingers gently through his damp curls. “You did it, baby. I’m so proud of you. You did it.”

The nurse returned soon after, the baby now clean and looking considerably more like a human. The baby was handed to Peter, who held him with shaky arms and watched him breathe through bleary eyes.

“Skin on skin contact is important,” the nurse told them, draping a blanket over Peter’s naked chest and the baby.

They moved Peter to the master bedroom, which was where he would spend his recovery. The baby would be there, too, resting in an incubator once he was taken away from Peter.

“What do you want to name him?” Tony wondered, laying on the bed with Peter. He’d insisted on having the incubator placed on his side of the room, so that he could watch over both of the people that owned his heart. Peter hadn’t minded, had just smiled at Tony fondly and nodded.

Tony was glad. If he looked to the left, he saw the love of his life, relaxing after giving birth to the baby boy on Tony’s right. He wanted to keep them close forever.

“Benjamin Anthony Stark,” Peter told him. “After the most important men in my life.”

Tony swallowed harshly. He’d never imagined naming his child after himself, or having someone else want to do so. He didn’t think there was much to live up to. Peter clearly didn’t agree with that, and there was his proof.

“Ben,” Tony whispered to himself, gazing at their little boy.

It sounded perfect.

#starker #ironspider #starkerscoopwrites #a blessing in disguise fic

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h2bakugou · 4 years

Note

could I request a headcanon where bakugo, kaminari, kirishima, and maybe todoroki (that’s not too many) react to their gf giving them a painting they made with their body

a/n: yes! im a bit late for this trend but it’s super cute and i wanna do this bruh, i have a canvas i just need to repaint it and then boom

headcanon: them reacting to receiving their s/o’s painting they made with their body

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, 16+ for mild suggestive themes?

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

You’ve seen the trend a few times before you finally get the guts to do it for Bakugou.

You’re super excited when the time comes. You’ve never done something like this. All the gifts you’ve given Bakugou before were usually store-bought, either a small piece of jewelry or a new sweater or shirt.

Never a painting that you made.

After getting all the craft supplies to make it, you turn on some music and get to work.

Painting the canvas a solid black color, you wait for it to dry as you look at the color of paint you’ve chosen to use on your body. A bright orange that matches the highlights of Bakugou’s hero costume.

You roll your shorts up and begin to apply the paint after feeling that the black has dried on your canvas.

Applying the paint is tricky, but with the help of a mirror, you’re able to apply it evenly.

Pressing your bottom down on the canvas, you can’t help but laugh at the situation. You’d just printed your ass in bright orange onto a canvas.

You let your butt rest against the canvas as you lifted the leg you were going to paint and stamp next, applying paint to it carefully as to not let it drip onto the canvas.

You pressed your leg down and used your hands to push it against the canvas.

Sitting for a minute or so, you soon got up and did your hand last. Looking at it from afar, it looked great.

You touched it up some, made the color opaque and then cleaned up. You made sure to sign your name on the bottom in the matching orange paint carefully.

You got most of the paint off, but the rest you’d have to scrub off in the shower. You threw on some loose pants and waited for your canvas to dry completely before taking it to Bakugou’s room.

Bakugou was finishing up some homework when you knocked on his door.

“Come in.” He groaned, not expecting to see you hiding behind a canvas in his doorway.

“Happy anniversary.” You smiled and handed him the canvas. When he turned it over his cheeks flushed red.

“Holy shit.”

“I know it’s not much-”

“You’re a fucking piece of art.” Bakugou set the canvas down and pulled you into him, his lips landing firmly against your own.

The kiss was rough, but sensual.

“Does this mean you like it?” You pull away and giggle.

“I love it.”

»»————-　★　————-««

denki kaminari

»»————-　★　————-««

You’ve got the supplies and you’re ready to get to work. You’ve painted your canvas black and you’ve selected a nice electric yellow.

It’s an easy process of applying the paint.

But as you’re sitting on the canvas, stamping your ass on it, you begin to wonder if Kaminari would like it.

He’s can be a bit perverted, but he’s still super sweet. Is this going to make him short circuit?

You’ve been together for a few months now, and for just a random reason, you wanted to do this for him.

You’ve seen the trend and you want to surprise him.

After successfully stamping your body to the canvas, you sign it and let it dry before delivering it to him.

You dress in one of his electric pun related shirts and some sweatpants and make your trip to go give it to him.

When you arrive, he’s playing Mario Kart with Sero and somehow beating him.

You wait for him to be finished before you give him the gift, not wanting to interrupt his game.

“Alright baby! What’s an angel like you need?” He sets his controller down and walks over to you, giving you a kiss, totally ignoring the canvas your holding.

“I made you something.” You smile, turning the canvas over.

And just like you’d feared, sparks of electricity begin to shoot off of him, his cheeks burning a bright pink shade.

“It’s-you’re...beautiful.” Kaminari mumbles, looking at it and then back up to you.

Sero looks at the canvas and his cheeks brighten up a bit too, but he looks away respectfully.

“This is amazing, can I hang it up?” Kaminari asks, his eyes wide and full of love as he looks at you.

“It’s yours, do whatever you’d like with it, silly.” You kiss his cheek as you watch him jolt over to his bed and quickly move a poster so he can hang it up.

»»————-　★　————-««

eijiro kirishima

»»————-　★　————-««

After seeing the trend, you’re set on making one for Kirishima. You’ve been together for a few months, and feeling a little confident, you decide to surprise him for training so hard these past few weeks.

You paint your canvas the day before you plan on doing the project so it’s already dry and ready for you to plaster yourself on it.

You’ve chosen a crimson color, similar to the shades of red in both his hero costume and his dyed hair.

Kirishima always tries really hard, and his determination inspires you. He has his moments of self-doubt, but it just goes to show that he’s human, like you.

This is something you wanted to do because of him. Kirishima is always telling you how beautiful you are, and it’s hard to feel beautiful sometimes. So, feeling confident, you decide to make yourself, and him a little gift.

The process of stamping your butt, leg, and hand to the canvas is fun, and something you’ll remember forever.

You love the way it looks when it’s finished, and you’re proud of yourself.

Kirishima is lifting weights as he studies when you knock on his door. He shouts for you to come in.

“Hey babe!” He smiles when he sees you. You walk through the door, shimmying the canvas along with you.

“Hey Kiri.” You give him a quick kiss on the cheek and smile as you hold the canvas behind your back.

“What’s that?” He questions, eyeing the canvas.

“You’ve been working hard, and you also reminded me that we’re beautiful. So I made you something to say thank you.”

You hand him the canvas and he’s speechless.

Kiri’s heart was racing as he stared at the perfection before him. He would’ve packed it up and sent it to the nearest art museum to hang it there.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He whispers as he sets the canvas down and walks toward you, pulling you into a hug.

“Thank you, you’re gorgeous too.” You smile, kissing him softly.

“You are truly a work of art.” Kirishima pulls away and nuzzles you closer.

“Can I make one of these for you?” He asks innocently.

“Kiri!” Your face begins to heat up.

“What?!” It hits him. He face palms and waves his hand at you.

“Shut up!” You two begin to laugh.

»»————-　★　————-««

shoto todoroki

»»————-　★　————-««

After taking a few dates to art museums, and the trend you’ve seen all over social media, you’re inspired to give Todoroki an art piece.

It’s more of a gift for him being himself since your anniversary isn’t for another week or so.

But there’s nothing wrong with giving gifts to each other.

You paint your canvas black and let it dry. You’ve chosen a bright navy color, one similar to the color of his hero costume.

At first, you were going to do a classic red and white combo, but you figured he was probably tired of seeing the same color combo in everything.

So you rolled up your shorts and got to work applying the paint on your butt. When you sat down on the canvas, it was an odd feeling. The cold paint had gave you chills when you first applied it, but you soon got used to the feeling.

It was like cuddling up to Shoto’s right side on trips or whenever you two got time alone.

Applying the paint to your leg and pressing it against the canvas, you sat and waited for the paint to stick to the canvas. Standing, you did your hand print and did some final touches.

Letting it dry was surprisingly more agonizing than you thought. You were brimming with excitement, ready to go give it to him already.

when it was finally dry, you put on one of his sweaters, one you’d ‘borrowed’ from him, and some cozy pants.

Todoroki was reading in his room, skimming over a few chapters in one of the classes reading assignments.

when you knocked, he spoke up for you to come in. His eyes immediately noticed the canvas you were holding.

“Hey baby.” He says softly, a gentle smile on his lips. You could always lift whatever mood he was in.

“Hey Sho.” You respond as you tiptoe into his room. You bite your lip as you begin to speak.

“I made you something, and I hope you like it.” You turn over the canvas and hand it to him.

His eyes widen and his cheeks flush.

Your body was painted in a familiar shade of blue as he stares down at the art. It’s gorgeous.

“You made your body into art.” Todoroki hums quietly as he glances at a wall, ready to hang it up already.

“I did, it was a trend I saw-”

“You are a masterpiece, I am honored to have this.” Todoroki set the canvas down carefully and moves over toward you, peppering you with kisses.

“I love it, thank you.” Todoroki thanks you for your gift and your own cheeks begin to heat up.

“I’m glad you like it.” You smile, butterflies floating around in your stomach.

“You should make some more art, it’s lovely.” Todoroki admires it some more.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Note

I was wondering, Claude had a tendency to use people for his own gain right? Like he did with Byleth and the sword of the creator? What if an uno reverse card was pulled on him? And the reader was using him for their own gain by getting close to him, and once the reader had what they wanted they stopped talking to Claude. How do you think Claude would react once they realized they loved the reader but found out that he was being used later on? Also I hope you’re doing well!

Thanks, hope you’re doing fine as well ♥ Thanks for requesting! I had an idea for it but it doesn’t exactly fit your request, so I hope you still like it!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

What pleasure it was to lay on your lap beneath the shadow of an old oak tree standing in the gardens. Just Claude and you, and the book you were reading. Sunlight broke through the gaps in the leaves as they swayed in the wind, tickled his skin while the breeze refreshed him. Even if this wasn’t a life he could live forever, he sure hoped it wouldn’t end soon.

“Read to me?” he asked, and your expression turned sour for a moment before you shook your head, taking a deep breath, turning another page. “You wouldn’t like it,” you responded in between reading, and he huffed. ‘I like everything you tell me,’ he wanted to say but refrained, wondering if you’d catch on to the subliminal meaning he put into it.

It was true, wasn’t it? You liked to tell him what to do, sent him on errands, fluttering your eyelashes at him as you told him what you wanted but couldn’t have. You wanted a component for a new potion here, a new sword there. Jewels for your mother that you never sent, and alcohol for your father that you drank with your friends instead. No matter what, if it was just that, Claude was happy to supply you, the moments spend with you in return every few weeks or so enough to still his hunger for a while.

How long would he be able to contain himself, though? Even if he was just a means to an end, Claude really loved you. You were aware that’s why you used him so much. But he couldn’t bring it over himself to deny you a wish when you came to him as if he was your savior. Even if you canceled more plans than actually showed up to the ones he made for you two, he couldn’t be angry at you when you fulfilled your debt eventually and asked him out for a day.

Times like those gave him enough fuel to carry on, to keep humoring you with his power and wealth that you desired. If not for his stand in society, you’d probably not bat an eyelash at him, but he was the heir of a noble house, and for that, you liked keeping him close. And for every good deed, he did for you, Claude felt confirmed when you hugged him or kissed his cheek, or rarely, let him lay in your lap and nap for a while.

Even if he was aware of your intentions, he loved you enough to oversee you playing with his feelings and using him. But how long? How long would he be able to keep it up? Claude wanted so much more - your attention and affection. And he wanted it unconditionally, not just because you felt like paying him for it in exchange for anything else.

“You seem tense,” he noted, one eye open to watch your reaction.

Indeed, the corners of your mouth dropped as you heaved a long sigh, partly in annoyance as he was interrupting your reading time. It must have been so uncomfortable for you to have him lay on your legs for hours just so you’d please him for a bit. The price you had to pay was grand, wasn’t it?

“There’s just someone bothering me... a group of juniors that keep spreading rumors and stuff like that. You know, they say I only use you and shit.”

Finally, you put the book aside to look at him ruefully. “You wouldn’t believe these rumors, would you?”

Claude countered the self-pity you fakely assumed for yourself with a smile, shaking his head. “Of course not,” he lied as if he wasn’t the one trying to sully your reputation around the Monastery. If someone would believe these rumors, you’d only have him to save your honor. And even so, no one liked to stick around people who used others for their own gain. Once the rumor festered, who’d you turn to will all you had to give? Claude so hoped it would be him.

You seemed surprised as he suddenly got up, the wind rustling through the leaves above you and flipping over the pages of the book you were reading.

“Do you want them dead?”

Claude’s words didn’t seem to reach you at first, as you remained quiet, your mouth opening way before you had processed the meaning behind his question. “W-What...?” you eventually mumbled, and your eyes met, serious intent shining in his.

But as spontaneously as the question had dropped into your life, as quickly Claude grinned again mischievously, plopping back down in your lap and shook his head. “Just kidding!”

“Oh... ahaha...”

The surprise and shock in your face was a welcome change in expression than you usually wore around him. In fact, it probably was one of the most sincere showcases of your feelings he had ever seen. “They can die all they want; I don’t care. They’re stupid,” you said as you tried to save yourself, noticing him still watching you. Putting on a tough act wasn’t going to save you now, as it only made Claude realize how much more he wanted to see of you.

Perhaps, true love and sincere affection weren’t something you could show him ever. However, it was a start knowing you could still experience the horror that he had to offer. “Fine, then I’ll go kill them now,” he said, unbothered by what he was talking about. As if it was yet again just an expensive gift he was buying you. It wouldn’t hurt him, but he was happy to provide it if you benefitted from it.

Rocking himself upwards, he hesitated before standing up, instead reaching his hand out towards you and pulling you close by your chin. “Anything for you, my Love,” he breathed against your lips, stealing the first kiss between you two ever before getting up and walking away.

All hell would break loose when he’d present you with the heads of the ones he hired to spread the rumors about you. But throwing a glance over his shoulder back to your utterly confused and flabbergasted form beneath the oak tree, Claude deemed it worth it.

He couldn’t wait for your reputation to be buried with the bodies of the people he killed and the face you’d make when no one believed you that Claude, the heir of House Riegan, did such a cruel murder to the innocent souls.

In fact, Claude couldn’t wait for all the emotions you’d show him soon when he was the only one to still stick around you.

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xxdearlybeloved · 3 years

Text

Like You Do

Modern!Ragnar x Reader

Summary: You have an interview at Lothbrok Holdings that leads to an opportunity you didn’t see coming.

A/N: This is a self-indulgent 5.7k word fic about falling in love with Ragnar that I had too much fun writing. There is smut, but it’s a LOOOOOT of fluff and sweetness and the tiniest sprinkle of angst. As usual, fuck canon and just join me for the ride!!! Also tagging @kvitravn for feeding my Ragnar thirst, I hope this makes you happy!!!!

You didn’t believe the job posting was real and grew even more skeptical when you were phoned for an interview. Everyone wanted to work for the Lothbrok’s, but you had to have the right connections to even hear about the openings. The posting was vague, administrative, but you would do anything to get a foot in the door.

You looked around you, taking in the people as you made your way to reception. The lobby was filled with other anxious interviewees and your heart sank, surely they were more qualified than you were. As you all followed the stern looking woman into a bleak meeting room, she gave you more details about the job. You would be one of the admins for Ragnar Lothbrok. This had to be a joke.

One by one, you were called in to interview. You knew you were overqualified for an admin job, but you hoped your sincerity for the opportunity to learn from one of the greatest minds of your generation would come across. So as your name was called, you swallowed your nerves and confidently strode into the room.

There, sitting next to the stern woman you had been prepared to impress was Ragnar. His eyes connected with yours and you were grateful your feet still carried you to the table. You sat, focusing on the woman who was asking you questions as you felt Ragnar’s eyes on you. You could tell that the woman was unimpressed by the lack of actual administrative work you had done, but you emphasized how you were eager to learn and knew a great opportunity when you saw one.

“Thank you, but I’m afraid we’re looking for someone with different qualifications.” You nodded, standing to leave.

“Thank you for the consideration,” you said before turning to Ragnar. “It was an honor to meet you, truly.” You left and tried to keep the tears inside until you were at least a block away.

That same night, you rallied your friends for a consolatory night out. You had been friends since college, and it was nice that you all still lived in the same city. None of them could believe your story as you downed another whiskey at the club, questioning what the hard work was for if you couldn’t get the opportunities you wanted. “Maybe I should have just been a bottle girl,” you said, watching one go past you to a table further down.

“Is that… is that Ragnar there?” You followed your best friend Macy’s gaze to the table she was mentioning, your eyes immediately connecting with his. You quickly turned around, what joke was the universe playing on you?

“Holy shit, he’s coming over.” You suddenly regretted all the alcohol you’d had, hoping he wouldn’t stop by and that you wouldn’t sound like an idiot if he did. You hoped you still looked as good as you did when you left your house, rarely making it out with your friends anymore as you all had such busy lives.

You watched your friends faces with anticipation and then horror as their eyes settled on something right behind you. No fucking way.

You turned and towering over you was Ragnar Lothbrok, once again in the flesh. You thought you saw a smile in his eyes but that could have just been the flashing lights.

“Nice to see you again,” he said, remembering your name. He probably remembered everyone’s names. You gave him your most dazzling smile before introducing your friends. “You ladies are all very beautiful,” he said, looking over all of them but then resting his eyes on you. You blushed.

“We heard she bombed her interview,” one of your friends yelled over the music. You turned in shock, laughing along with the rest of them as you waited for his reaction. You moved over as he slid in next to you, casually resting a hand around your waist as he leaned in to talk with your friends. What was going on?

“She would have been so bored in that job,” he said, turning to look at you and nearly melting you in the couch you sat on. “It’s just scheduling and rescheduling meetings, she seemed way too smart for that.”

“Oh she is,” another of your friends said. You couldn’t concentrate on the conversation, feeling the heat from his arm through the thin fabric around your waist, trying not to jump every time he shifted around you.

“Well, it was great to meet you all. The drinks are on me tonight,” he said, standing to go. You immediately felt a shiver as the cool air rushed to the space vacated by his arm. You turned to tell him thanks, but he was already gone.

You went about your life, but Ragnar seemed to be everywhere. Not literally, but he was in the news or his name was on an ad for Lothbrok Holdings. The sky reminded you of his eyes and he found his way into your mind as you lay in bed.

The odds were almost impossible that you would see him again. Even slimmer that you would savor his touch. It truly was a gift that you wished you could hold on to forever, but slowly it began to fade like all memories do. After awhile, you could barely distinguish the memory from the dreams.

Then, one day, you felt again like the universe was playing a joke on you yet again. You were eating breakfast, checking your emails for the day when you got one from Ragnar’s admin. You wondered if it was the same one who had recently gotten the job.

It was just as vague as the job description had been, “Please be at this address at 11:45.” You weren’t clear if it was for another interview, but what else could it be? You had less than 36 hours to prepare.

The day went by too fast, but when the night came you were begging for sleep to come. It ignored you. You took off the entire day, catching a couple of hours of sleep before climbing out of bed and getting yourself together.

You opted for a more feminine look, deviating from your usual suit interview look. You’d hoped it wasn’t a mistake, but you remembered the way Ragnar looked at you last time and decided it wasn’t. You’d risk the job if it meant he would look at you like that again.

You arrived at 11:30 and waited, and waited, and waited. You were hungry, having been too anxious to eat earlier. The anxiety had worn off and now you were hoping your stomach wouldn’t rumble through the interview.

At 1:30, you were pissed. You stood to leave, not even bothering to check with the receptionist who hadn’t come to check on you once over the past two hours. You heard her calling after you but you were already out of the door. You were around the block when your phone rang. You didn’t recognize the number, but something told you to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Ragnar,” he said. You could hear people talking at him through the phone. “Please come back, I’ll be done soon”

“Where are you going?” You stopped walking, holding the phone close to your ear like that would make the voice more real.

“Who is this?” You knew who it was.

“It’s been two hours,” you said, more harshly than you meant. You were very hungry.

“Where are you going?” he asked again, hushing the people around him.

“To get food, Mr. Lothbrok. Maybe we can reschedule? You seem occupied.”

“Tell Clarice where you’re going and I’ll meet you there,” he said, transferring you before you had a chance to respond.

You were done with your food before he showed up, spotting you in the crowd and ignoring the ogles along the way. It seemed like he only had eyes for you.

He was breathless as he sat down. You had the urge to reach out and calm him, but you resisted.

“I’m sorry,” he began, calling over the waiter who was there immediately. He ordered and then turned the full force of his eyes on you. “My meeting ran long. We had some… unexpected events”

“It’s fine,” you said, taking a sip of water. You were suddenly very thirsty. “We can reschedule the interview”

“Interview,” he said, confused. “What interview?”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “At 11:45?”

“Did she say it was an interview?” he said, shaking his head. “I had asked her to schedule lunch with you.” As if they’d heard his words, the food appeared in front of them.

“Lunch? Why?”

“I wanted to see you again,” he said, his eyes fully focused on you again. You swore you would crumble under the weight of them.

You watched as he arranged his plate and began eating, finally catching your breath without the weight of his eyes on you.

“So this isn’t about a job?” you said, just to be clear.

“Do you need one?” he asked, smirking at you. “I’m sure we have something available, this lunch is on me so don’t worry about that”

You couldn’t help but smile, your brain still processing having lunch with Earl Ragnar. Well. Watching him eat his lunch.

It felt like catching up with an old friend. He finished his meal while he told you about the places he had traveled, a few of which you’d had in common. Ragnar was definitely the king of his own world, but you felt like he still longed for others.

The minutes turned into hours. You felt the place empty and you were sure they’d closed for lunch to prep for dinner, but no one came to kick you out. They just politely cleared the table and refilled your drinks.

Ragnar would listen intently when you talked, his whole focus on you. You felt like his eyes could see into your deepest thoughts. Where normally you felt like you had to put up walls, only showing people what you wanted them to see, Ragnar completely annihilated any defense you had.

When he spoke, you were hypnotized. The air felt rarefied and more than once you were tempted to reach out and touch him, just to make sure he was real.

Sooner than you wanted, people returned for an early dinner. You absentmindedly checked your phone when Ragnar excused himself to take a call and were surprised at how much time had passed. One of your friends had texted you an SOS for drink plans, and you were already going to be late since it was across town.

When he returned to the table, you gave him an apologetic smile. Was that sadness in his eyes or had you just imagined it?

You stood to go, watching Ragnar put more money than was needed on the table that you were sure covered 20 more meals. He led you outside, guiding you by the waist as people’s eyes followed you out of the door.

You lingered a little outside, Ragnar’s hand falling from your waist too quickly for you.

“Dinner next time?,” he asked, reaching gently, almost absentmindedly for your hand. As if it was the most natural thing in the world.

You nodded, licking your lips, suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to kiss his.

Time seemed to stop as his hand pulled you closer while the other guided your face to his for a gentle kiss that lasted forever but was over too quickly. Before you could catch your breath, he was around the corner on the way back from where he came.

Traffic had made you 30 minutes late for your friend. You spotted her quickly, her drink half gone and yours with the ice mostly melted. You slid into the booth, already apologizing before you noticed the look on her face.

She was elated.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” she loud whispered, clearly very excited. How could she know already? “It’s on his fan page, ‘Ragnar and mysterious girl have lunch’”

You stared in disbelief at her phone, not aware that anyone had taken pictures. Luckily they were blurry and with your back to them, so you could stay mysterious. You’d hoped no one had taken pictures of them outside.

Ragnar’s romantic history was not a secret. He had a very public divorce with Lagertha and it was an accepted fact that he and Aslaug were divorced in all but name. He had remained relatively under the radar since then, at least romantically, but you couldn’t believe what your eyes were seeing now.

“No one reads these pages,” you said, hoping that would make it less real.

“Well someone does, because I do,” she said, taking her phone back and doing a general Google search. It was already on some major news outlets.

You buried your face in your hands. “It was only lunch, I swear,” you blushed.

She listened as you told her everything. “Do you think you’ll see him again?”

You shrugged. You knew how you felt, but you didn’t know how he did, especially with this very public review of your innocent lunch-that-wasn’t-an-interview. Honestly, who knew?

Dinner was your next date. You had a few days’ notice, which was a blessing and a curse. It allowed you to prepare for it physically, but exhausted you mentally. Your mind went over and over his words. The call had been brief, but still made you smile to think about it.

“Where are we going?” you’d asked, hoping your voice didn’t betray your excitement as you mentally scanned your closet.

He paused and you pictured him scratching his chin as he thought over his response. You wondered if the hair would tickle if he kissed you.

“Some place special,” he replied, and you knew that’s all you were going to get.

“Well then where should I meet you?” you asked playfully incredulous.

“I’ll find you. Be ready at 6.”

“Will you be on time?” you heard yourself ask, immediately regretting your words.

His silence seemed to stretch on forever. “My night belongs to you.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“So am I.”

You were going to run out of vacation if you kept having to take time off to prepare for these dates. You used the afternoon to make sure everything was ready since you couldn’t tell from his words where the night would lead.

When you were done, with the last hour going more quickly than you’d needed, you knew the extra time had been worth it. You felt every bit the seductress he made you feel.

At 5:59 your doorbell rang. You laughed to yourself as you went to open the door.

“Ma’am,” a driver said to you. You were a little disappointed.

“I’ll grab my bag,” you said, going to turn off your lights and taking another quick shot of whiskey to calm your nerves.

Ragnar watched as you followed the driver to the car, looking very much the confident goddess he couldn’t stop thinking about. The driver opened the door and you slid in, your smile brightening as you laid eyes on him.

“Hi,” you said, falling hypnotized in his eyes.

He didn’t say anything, he just reached over, brining his body closer to yours. He moved some of your hair behind your ear, pulling away but still closer than he was before. His proximity set all of your nerves on fire and you just wanted him to touch you again.

He was casually dressed, jeans and a shirt that was simple but not cheap. You couldn’t tell if you were overdressed.

“You look very beautiful,” Ragnar whispered, his eyes fully focused on yours again. You felt yourself leaning into him, letting your fingers trace his beard, then his lips, before your eyes went back to find his watching you.

He moved closer, brining his lips to yours just as softly as he did the first time. Your hand found it’s way to his hair, hoping that would keep him from pulling away too quickly. You felt his mouth open against yours and you let out a shaky breath as your mouths explored each other.

Ragnar broke away to kiss your neck, leaving you to close your eyes and give him greater access. Were your going to make it to dinner?

The car began to slow and you whined as he pulled away, trying to catch your breath before you felt the door open for you.

You were in an alley downtown, which wasn’t exactly what you pictured. Ragnar came around the car and took your hand, waiting patiently as you took in your surroundings. He went to a door and opened it before pulling you inside. It was dimly lit with crates piled high and you wondered if it was one of his warehouses. You walked towards a wall before seeing an elevator.

“Where are we going?” you asked. You knew he was dangerous but surely he wouldn’t bring you through all of this just to kill you.

He didn’t say anything as he smiled, calling and stepping into the elevator. It was one of those industrial elevators, loud and shaky, and you pressed yourself into him for comfort and stability, closing your eyes as you climbed. You went all the way to the top floor, stepping out onto a roof top.

It was completely decorated, a skyrise private bar with an amazing view of Kattegat. You could see the darkness of the water and the lights of the city. You jaw dropped at the gorgeousness of it all. There was staff waiting with drinks. A few other people were there but none of them looked twice at the two of you.

Ragnar took two drinks, handing one to you before taking your hand and leading you to a table. He smiled as you looked around in awe.

“This place is amazing,” you said, taking a seat and smiling as he opted to sit next to you instead of across from you. The lighting was dim and the chairs felt like sitting on a cloud.

“It’s one of my favorite places in the city,” he said. You could easily see why.

The food came while you talked. He explained how he found this place and used it for whenever he wanted to get out but didn’t want to be bothered. Only a few people knew about it, and you felt honored to be one of them.

“Are you trying to hide me?” you joked, desperately wanting him to address what you both had yet to talk about.

He looked at you, not answering your question. It made your heart race. Was he trying to hide you? You could understand, you barely knew each other. But what wasn’t he saying?

Your heart began to fall a little as you realized that he wasn’t going to answer your question. You closed your eyes, putting your head back and listening to the music. You felt Ragnar’s hand on your waist, his lips on your jaw and then on your lips. You kissed him back, but you needed something else right now.

You stood, reaching for his hand. He smiled, taking it and standing to meet you. You guided his hands to your waist again, bringing your arms around his neck. Slowly you danced, holding each other. You didn’t know how long you would get with Ragnar, and you just wanted a moment to take it all in.

Too soon, someone came to interrupt you. He spoke with them briefly before coming back to you, apologetic. There was an emergency and he had to go.

“Should I wait?” you asked, not sure from his silence earlier if you would see him again.

“I’ll see you again,” he said, kissing your forehead before taking your hand and leading you back to the elevator. One of his men took you down and you found yourself standing in the other corner from him, already missing Ragnar’s touch. You couldn’t explain the tears as you got back in the car, driving to your home alone.

Ragnar kept his promise. The next few months were filled with other very intimate, sweet dates. There were of course the normal lunches and dinners, often in private rooms after the amount of attention you two had started to get whenever you were out together. There were also the private museum tours, the art galleries and a couple of Sundays on a secluded beach by the sea.

You often had a hard time reconciling the man who handled you so gently, so sweetly with the man who you knew he was. Nothing about him could be mistaken for weak, but you rarely felt unsafe around him.

He would call you randomly in the middle of the night, just to know you were there while he worked out something. The first time it happened, you thought you had to give him a brilliant answer, but you honestly didn’t even understand what he was talking about. There was too much context you simply didn’t know.

Sometimes, you would offer up your thoughts and he would pause for a long time while he chewed it over. You loved these conversations, him bringing you into his world, into how his mind worked. He truly was a visionary, and it left you in awe.

Your relationship had become so vulnerable. You felt yourself confessing things to him that you didn’t even realize were true until you said them out loud. In some ways, he knew you better than anyone else even though you’d only known him for a little while.

Of course, those late nights also made you think about being with him in a physically intimate way as well. After all of these months, the most you’d ever done was kiss. But that’s not to say it wasn’t enough. His kisses lit a fire in you that the coldest of showers had a hard time putting out. You ached for him.

In your showers, you imagined him pressing his body against yours. In your bed, you imagined it was his hands and not yours roaming and teasing your body. No matter how good it felt, it did not feel like enough.

Ragnar could sense this, but he didn’t want you to feel like he was pushing you towards anything. He didn’t know how much he could promise you, and a part of him was afraid to let you down. He’d definitely done that before.

He had to go away for a few weeks, and they somehow felt like the longest of your life. He was too busy to call you as often as he usually would, which already didn’t feel often enough. Those few minutes would last you days.

“Oh my God, you’re in love,” Macy said as the rest of your friends squealed with glee. It had been awhile since you’d seen them, but they could not believe how much had changed the past couple of months with Ragnar. He went from a stranger to having your heart in his hands. Of course you were in love. But you didn’t want to be.

As you spent time separated, you couldn’t help but slowly come back to reality. How could you know that Ragnar was serious about you? You hadn’t really talked about it since that night on the rooftop, but you didn’t know how to bring it up to him again. You didn’t even know what you wanted him to say.

You hadn’t vocalized this with your friends yet, knowing they would tell you what you wanted to hear. It was very possible that Ragnar was just a very exciting chapter in your life and even though that idea pained you, you just wanted to enjoy the present.

When he finally returned, you were overjoyed to get the call from Clarice saying that he would pick you up that night. The call took you by surprise since you had no idea when he would be back, so you left work as soon as you could to get ready.

The car came when she said it would, but there was no Ragnar. You got in, saying hello to the driver but not saying much else. He took you away from the beach, up the mountains to where Ragnar had mentioned he lived. When you went off a hidden driveway, you were pretty certain where you were going.

The driver parked in front of the house and got out to open the door for you. It was colder up in the mountains, but you were also sure you felt a chill from the beauty of Ragnar’s house. It was a mix of modern and rustic, wood beams and glass. It was lit on the inside so it made the whole place have an ethereal glow. It was beautiful.

You watched the car drive away before building up the courage to walk to the door. You rang the doorbell once and waited until you were bathed in light and the smell of food as the door opened. You looked up at Ragnar, his eyes tired but happy and almost launched into his arms. You breathed in his scent as you held each other before he laughed and suggested you go inside.

He took your hand, giving you a brief tour of the house until you got to the kitchen. It looked like most of the food was done already, so he told you to have a seat as he plated the food for both of you. You stole some of his wine as he smirked at you. He got another glass and poured some wine in both so you could have your own.

This was perfect. You had your shoes left by the bar with your plates, drinking wine in front of the fire as you and Ragnar just took in each other’s presence. Your legs were intertwined as you told him about your life, watching his eyes start to close as you figured he must be exhausted.

You got up to take his glass to the kitchen, tidying up what you could without knowing where everything was or where it all went. His home definitely had that cold bachelor feel, but it was beautiful and you couldn’t help imagining yourself in it.

Ragnar was fully asleep and you couldn’t help watching him as you climbed back onto the couch. You decided to cuddle into him this time, feeling whole and warm from the fire and his body heat. You barely woke up when you felt him carry you to his room.

When you woke up the next morning, you were disoriented. The room was flooded with light as the glass wall looked out into the trees on the east. You took a minute to reflect as you thought about the night before. You didn’t have to turn around to know you were alone.

You got out of bed and found the bathroom along with a note telling you that he would be back later. No details, as was his way, but you thought the note itself was cute. You saw a robe and decided to take a shower, loving how the soaps smelled like him. Like everything else about him, the shower felt complicated to figure out, but when you finally did it was exactly what you needed.

Clean and dry, you made your way back to the kitchen, making yourself a simple breakfast of eggs and toast that seemed to taste better than any you had had before.

You had no idea when he would be back, so you decided to explore. The daylight showed you the grounds, and they were post card perfect. You found his study and started reading one of his books, lying on the soft rug that felt too soft not to be a blanket.

When you made it back to his room, you fell onto his bed, fully appreciating how soft and cozy it was. You stretched, feeling your nakedness in his robe with his scent all around you. It was enough to make your head weak.

You let your hands travel down your body slowly, first teasing your breasts before lightly tracing your fingers down your stomach to your core. It didn’t take long until you were soaking, your fingers expertly chasing that high that felt all the more intense as you were in a strange place, feeling deliciously exposed in Ragnar’s bedroom.

You didn’t try to hide your moans, with no neighbors there to over hear you, you let your mind imagine Ragnar’s hands expertly stroking you to your climax. Your hips moved as you cried out desperately, feeling release but still missing the feel of someone else’s hands on you.

But then you did feel someone else’s hands on you. You opened your eyes in instant fear only to find Ragnar’s eyes in front of yours. You only saw them for a second, full of lust, before his mouth was on your neck tracing down to your chest and hungrily sucking on your breasts.

You whined, overwhelmed by the feeling of his beard tickling your sensitive areas and his weight on you, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

“Were you thinking about me?” he asked before flicking your nipple with his tongue and moving to kiss down your stomach. You were mute as you arched your back as he continued to place soft, wet kisses in a neat trail to your center, surprising you with an occasional drag of his tongue.

You moved your legs wider to let him comfortably sit between them, your heart racing as you locked eyes with him. He was silent as he moved to kiss your inner thighs, laughing as your squirmed beneath him.

“Please,” you said hoarsely, trying to move closer to him. But he was no closer, maintaining complete control.

“Please, what?” he said, taking his thumb and rubbing your juices around your clit once. You let out a guttural moan.

“I need you, please” you begged again, your hands restless as he was just out of reach.

He gave you a devilish grin as he repeated the action with his thumb before replacing it with his tongue. He was not shy, his strong arms holding your legs open while his tongue did what your hands could not. Your cries turned to whimpers as you felt yourself on the edge again, trying hard to close your legs but Ragnar’s grip was like iron, keeping you spread before him.

Only when he felt your legs shaking in his hands did he slow his pace, coaxing you down as he eased his grip. You felt him close your legs before coming up to hold you, praising you while he stroked your hair and placed gentle kisses on your head.

You let your heart beat slow and your breathing return to normal. Taking a deep breath to steel your nerves for what you were about to do, you turned to face him, bringing your lips to his.

“Ragnar,” you said as you pulled away. He looked at you, so deliciously spent in his arms, your body falling out of his robe. “I need you to fuck me.”

You saw his eyes change from concern to primal, for the first time feeling a little afraid of what this man was capable of. He sensed that, but that did not stop him from pulling your head back gently so he could kiss your neck again.

“Are you sure?” You knew you were being greedy, but you needed him inside you. You nodded as you turned your body to face him, running your palm until you found exactly what you’d expected. He was more than ready for you.

You brought your lips to his as you undid his pants, stroking him as you felt him hold his breath against your lips. He exhaled, bringing his forehead to yours as he asked you again if you were sure.

‘I’ve never been more sure of anything,” you said, feeling the truth in your confession once again.

He growled, pulling himself from your hand and standing, turning your body to your stomach and bringing your legs to him. He would make love to you one day, but this was not the time. He had watched you play with yourself and moan his name, had felt you come around his tongue, and now you were still begging for him.

He was only a man.

Wasting no time, he entered you, pausing only after he was fully sheathed as both of you adjusted to the feel of him inside you. You felt full, positioning yourself to take him better. You nodded as he asked you if you were all right, gripping the comforter when he began to pound into you.

He started off slow, his rhythm intentional and strong, holding your hip with one hand and he ran the other up your back, praising and soothing you for taking him so well. You were so wet and he felt your walls pulling at him, saw your eyes shut tight as you moaned with your face pressed into his bed.

You cried out as you came around him, but he didn’t stop, feeling you milk him as his name came out of your mouth in a guttural moan. He kept fucking you after you’d come, through the whimpers and whispered pleas, not stopping until you had gone silent and he emptied himself inside you.

He didn’t pull out of you immediately, coming to join you as he whispered praises in your ear, gently rubbing your arm and your back, kissing every part of you he could as you reached for his hand.

You had never felt like this before. It was overwhelming and you were surprised by the tears in your eyes. And he didn’t leave. He’d held you the entire time after you gave everything to him. You ached but he soothed you. You couldn’t deny how you felt anymore.

When he was soft, he slowly pulled out and turned you around, needing to look into your eyes as you still hadn’t made a sound. He saw tears in your closed eyes. Concern filled his as he wiped them away until you opened your eyes kissed him, pulling him closer to you.

If you are interested in another chapter, I have an idea just let me know!!!!

He lay there, on your naked body, listening to your heart beat slow with your arms wrapped around each other. You couldn’t say anything if you wanted to. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep and your lover tucked you back into his bed, taking off his clothes as he slid in behind you so he could be there when you woke up.

#ragnar #vikings fan fiction #vikings imagine #ragnar lothbrok #ragnar lothbrok fanfic

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ardett · 3 years

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Snakes and Owls

Description: Athena stands, putting a hand beneath Medusa’s chin and raising the mortal’s eyes to meet her own. “I can make sure you are never hurt again. But it will change you forever. Is this what you want?”

“It is,” Medusa breathes. Her hands are not shaking anymore.

Athena nods. A blinding light floods every crevice of the room, of the temple, spilling out into the mortal world.

The strands of Medusa’s hair wind together into the sleek bodies of snakes. Her hair pins become their pointed teeth. Her eyes change from ocean blue to endless gray, the same shade as Athena’s and now imbued with her gift. Her gaze will turn anyone who looks upon her to stone.

And when the light fades, Medusa is reborn.

in which Athena transforms Medusa not for punishment but for power and protection

written for the @greekmythszine !

You can also read this on Ao3!

The first day Athena met Medusa, she knew the mortal would live an exceptional life. Many had said the same but they were all blinded by Medusa’s beauty. They saw her manipulating the wills of men. They saw her marrying into wealth and riches. They saw her power only as an offshoot of her future husband’s.

Athena saw more than that.

Athena saw a woman who had willingly given up her own self-pleasure to serve a higher purpose. She saw a woman who was sought by so many and yet still pledged herself as a virgin priestess of Athena. Many swore themselves to her, but few persevered through the first years when the work was the most monotonous and thankless. Medusa, however, was true to her duties as a priestess despite the advances of visiting men. She always turned her gaze away from them and back to the gilded statue of the goddess.

Athena respected her for that and though a mortal could never compare to her own godly nature, she saw herself in the woman. Medusa had wisdom beyond her youthful years. She constantly looked to the future rather than the mortal distractions that still persisted in her life. She also had a fighting spirit that Athena admired from afar, particularly evident as she turned down yet another boy who thought himself worthy enough to enter her sacred temple.

Unbeknownst to Athena, she wasn’t the only god who’s interest had been piqued by Medusa.

Athena had thought that Poseidon had gracefully acquiesced to her victory in Athens but she should have known. All men, even godly ones, seem to hold grudges against women who upstage them.

While Athena had been occupied on Olympus, Poseidon snuck into her temple in the form of a man and singled out Medusa, perhaps because of Athena’s favor or perhaps only for her beauty. Either way, he fell upon her like a shark devouring a hapless fish.

Athena feels the fire in her temple go out. This is unusual but not a reason to worry. Her priestesses are only mortals after all and though the fire is supposed to remain eternally lit, mistakes had been made before. But as the minutes pass and the hearth is not reignited, Athena feels the first sharp sting of concern.

She appears in the temple. No one is there. The marble hall is hollow and empty. Athena turns to her offering altar but the coals aren’t red and smoldering as if the fire was neglected. The fire has been put out deliberately. The coals have been doused in saltwater.

Then Athena hears the shriek.

She whirls towards the sound and runs down the hall. She throws the door to a back storage room open, brittle wood cracking against the marble wall, but it’s too late. She sees the blood between Medusa’s thighs and she launches a spear at the man on top of her with a guttural scream. Poseidon disappears a moment before it would have pierced his heart, leaving only a dark chuckle in the air and the scent of salt. The spear lodges deep in the stone wall.

Athena’s rage roars inside her. She would have hunted Poseidon to the gates of Atlantis had she not heard Medusa’s rasping sobs. Instead, she moves to Medusa’s side. She has never kneeled for anyone before but for her most loyal priestess, she goes to her knees.

She gently guides Medusa’s head into her lap. The woman is trembling, curled in upon herself. Her clothes have been ripped and stained. Her hair has been knotted by unwanted hands.

“I’m sorry,” Medusa cries. Her tears only make the air smell stronger of salt.

“You have nothing to apologize for. This was not your fault.” Athena runs her fingers through Medusa’s hair in an attempt to calm her. Medusa flinches. Athena immediately takes her hand away.

“But your priestesses must be virgins. And I’m— I’m no longer—”

“Hush. It was not your choice. I would not punish you for this,” Athena soothes.

For many minutes, they sit in silence. There is only the sound of Medusa’s quiet gasps and muffled sobs. Athena aches to grab her spear and shield. War has always come easier to her than comfort but she knows that being here is more important than taking revenge in the mortal’s honor.

Eventually, Medusa murmurs, nails scratching against the stone, “I’m sorry, goddess. I don’t know if I can continue to serve you. I don’t know if I can remain in this place after it has been so tainted for me.” Medusa shudders as she relives the violent memory.

Athena hums. The note is low and sonorous and forgiving. “Feel no guilt, dear priestess. Your life is yours to live as you please. You have my blessing.”

Medusa pushes herself away from Athena and rises to her feet. “And what if I cannot bear to live on?” She begins to pace. Her fingers tangle in her hair. “I cannot live like this. He has claimed my body as his own. My hair, he told me my hair was the most beautiful he’s ever seen.” Her hands come down to claw at her eyes. “He said my eyes reminded him of the sea. Of his sea. Even if I were to cut my hair and blind myself, I would never be free of him. I would only be more helpless. This is a fear I cannot endure.”

Medusa stops, her gaze void of emotion. A tear drips down her cheek as she stares at the spot where her blood still marks the ground. “Goddess, I am lost,” she whispers.

Athena stands, putting a hand beneath Medusa’s chin and raising the mortal’s eyes to meet her own. “I can make sure you are never hurt again.”

Medusa looks up at her, eyes wide and trusting in the face of her goddess. “How?”

Athena’s expression hardens. She begins to glow from within as her true godly nature begins to show through. “Your hair would be your first line of defense. Your eyes would be your greatest weapon. No man will ever dare to touch you. It will be them who tremble in fear,” she swears. “But it will change you forever. Is this what you want?”

“It is,” Medusa breathes. Her hands are not shaking anymore.

Athena nods. A blinding light floods every crevice of the room, of the temple, spilling out into the mortal world.

And when the light fades, Medusa is reborn.

Athena leaves Medusa on the island of Sarpedon. It’s an isolated paradise, far from the reaches of man. She also transformed Medusa’s sisters, Stheno and Euryale, so Medusa would not have to bear her trauma alone.

Athena wants to give her a life of peace but she knows that mortal men can never allow good to thrive without trying to take it for themselves. She bestowed her gifts upon Medusa so the priestess could defend herself with her own strength. She knows Medusa will need them and the help of her sisters.

For many long years, the sisters prosper on their island. The beaches are decorated with stone statues. It’s impossible to remain hidden as stories of disappearing sailors spread but they prove themselves more than capable of handling the threats that wash ashore.

Then King Polydectes of Seriphos demands that Perseus bring him the head of Medusa.

Athena doesn’t like to involve herself in mortal affairs but this time she has no choice. Perseus is a demigod, the son of Zeus, and the king of the gods will not allow him to fail. Zeus demands that Athena give her shield to Perseus and he keeps the goddess under careful watch while Perseus stalks closer to the home of Medusa.

Perseus uses Athena’s polished shield as a mirror so he never looks directly upon Medusa, avoiding her stone gaze. Athena loathes the part she is being made to play. Medusa’s sisters are bathing on the other side of the island. Athena cannot intervene.

Athena is forced to watch as Perseus severs Medusa’s head from her body. It hits the ground with a sickening thud. Medusa’s snakes go limp. They have no one to protect anymore. A tear runs down Athena’s cheek. Her hands tremble with rage. But she cannot act.

Athena doesn’t look away as Perseus plunges Medusa’s head into a bag. Medusa deserves the respect of being seen and remembered as more than a monster. She deserves to be mourned.

Perseus uses Medusa’s head to turn the disgraced King Polydectes and his other enemies to stone. He uses her to slay the great sea monster Cetus, saving the Princess Andromeda and winning himself a wife. Athena wonders if there is no saving mortal women, if their fate is to be eternally used by men in the quest for their own glory.

Finally Perseus calls upon her, burning an offering in her name, and Athena appears before him.

Perseus bows on his knees. “Great goddess Athena, thank you for your patronage. I have come to return your shield and give you the spoils of my victory against the hideous monster.” He produces her shield and the head of Medusa, laying them at her feet.

Athena stares at the blood still draining from Medusa’s neck, staining the floor like all those years ago when she had tried to save her most loyal priestess from having to endure the abuse of men again. Her anger is unspeakable. Is there anything that can remain pure and unharmed in this world? Is there anything sacred?

Her spear begins to materialize. She could kill Perseus with the flick of a wrist. She could avenge Medusa’s memory.

A crack of thunder echoes in the distance. Destiny has other plans for Perseus. Zeus will not allow it. Her spear disappears.

She takes up her shield, cradles Medusa’s head in her arms, and sneers down at the mortal man.

“Never call on me again,” she growls, the threat of war on her tongue. She leaves him on his knees.

Once she is alone, she sets Medusa’s head in her shield. She will carry it with her wherever she goes. There could be no greater honor.

Athena’s work is not yet done. She gathers the blood dripping from the severed head as it traces paths down her shield. Her measured hands separate the blood of the right side of her body from the left. Even in her death, Athena can still give Medusa these gifts.

Athena travels to the apothecary of Asclepius. He’s always been a diligent follower of hers. He visits her temple regularly and has prayed for her guidance many times. When Medusa had vanished, he had asked after her, not in the lustful way of her persistent suitors, but with the genuine concern of a friend. Athena hadn’t forgotten that.

She strolls into his shop in the guise of a young woman dressed as a priestess from her own temple. Asclepius looks up, startling at the sound of his door opening.

“The goddess Athena wished for you to have these.” Athena bares the two vials of blood in her palms. She holds the vial from the right side of Medusa’s body aloft. “This one has properties capable of ending life. The other can raise the dead.” She places them on his counter. Asclepius delicately picks them up, mouth slightly open in shock. “She believes you will use them wisely. Do not disappoint her,” Athena warns.

“I won’t,” Asclepius promises. He holds the vials a little tighter. As Athena starts to leave, he shouts after her, “Wait! Where are these from?”

Athena turns only slightly to answer him. “They are made by the sacrifice of an old friend. Treat them with respect.”

As she walks through the door, Asclepius follows after her, more questions curling on his tongue, but Athena is already gone. In her wake, she leaves only a single owl feather.

Asclepius goes on to become the founder of Greek medicine. Stheno and Euryale, sisters of Medusa, mourn their loss. The island of Sarpedon fades into obscurity. Athena swears herself in the defense of women and continues to give them the strength to fight for themselves. All the while, Medusa is by her side, her image watching over Athena from her shield.

People tell stories of an abused girl who was turned on by a vengeful goddess. They spin legends of a hideous and dangerous monster. They tell the lies that best suit themselves and their version of history but Athena will always honor Medusa’s true memory. It is that of a loyal priestess, that of a tenacious survivor, that of a beloved friend. It is that of a true warrior.

#athena #Medusa #myth retelling #Greek Mythology #thewar

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dog-day-morning · 3 years

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YOU OWE THEM NOTHING

People can be self-righteous when it comes to what they think God is supposed to do if, and when they call on Him. God is not a genie in a bottle that you rub, and a jinn pops out granting you 3 or 300 wishes. The saying faith without works is dead can be applied here. Have you ever heard of or read the book Daniel Webster and the devil? This tall tale or folklore legend was about a man who made a deal with old Slew Foot, and when it was time to pay up he had 2nd thoughts. Satan never plays fair. He's forever putting us in positions where we find ourselves desperate for a quick solution to a temporary problem that only leads to a difficult end. The Latin term for buyer beware is caveat emptor, and Satan knows how to spell. The power of a wicken comes from their basic weapon of spelling or casting spells by word of mouth. Even the Bible tells us that “Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.” Tell that to a Nicolaitan. Those who make deals with the most unclean should expect to suffer in the end. Never trust the father of lies who deals in treachery, and deceit. I look back at my mother's life and wonder if God had ever intervened for her, and fought her battles that surely He and only He would be able to deliver her from, and He has. Life is hard, for many it’s a nightmare that’s ongoing. Satan comes to you when you're at your weakest or most vulnerable in the hopes of snaring your soul into eternal suffering. Jesus comes to deliver us from death, sin, and temptations that confuse us in our trek towards His truth. If you have any aspirations of entertaining people with your gifted voice or your talent for playing lead guitar, don’t sign a contract that promises you the world only to find out you owe them your sweet ass which a man of honor wouldn't consider let alone make you cosign your body for their horn dog appeasement.

Revelation 2:9

9 I know thy works, and tribulation, and poverty, (but thou art rich) and I know the blasphemy of them which say they are Jews, and are not, but are the synagogue of Satan.

You're abundantly rich in spirit Yacob. Now’s the time to claim your position. These bastards have taken everything from you leaving your ancestors nothing but dust. If they could remove us off the face of the Earth they would. They're plotting to do so as you and I breathe, that's why the Father never sleeps. They are demon spawns who say they worship, and believe in God, but whose god, and what righteous god tells you to destroy a people with his blessing knowing what the children of Japheth have done to them historically? The spawns of Satan want your penuche, mouth, titties, and a-hole for their pleasure along with your talent that Justin Timberlake does not have. The new faces of R&B do not look like the people I grew up listening to or the race of people whose songs left an everlasting impression on my bleeding heart that helped me through my ill-fated, miserable existence. Robin Thicke, Christina Aguilera, K-Pop, the BackStreet Boys, and New Kids on the Block. Some of these groups are defunct, but they’re cranking out as many as they possibly can like Justin Bieber, and Demi Lovato. I just saw on YouTube where people were considering if Elvis Presley was Black, WTF?!! He was the biggest culture thief that Dr. Frankenstein, AKA Colonel Parker ever created. Man is cruel; Satan is a whole other type of bastard you shouldn’t entertain. I'm retarded. Some call me an idiot savant. YO MOMMA!!! People are blessed by the Father who has blessed many of us with gifts. There are many of you whom God has endowed with multiple talents that people would sell their soul in order to possess just one. If you're anointed by God to sing like Aretha Franklin may He lead you to sign with a label like Brother Carl Crawford's who won't make the same mistake he did with a very popular artist at this moment. More than likely you'll sign a contract entrusting your talent, blessing, and soul to the most unclean ones. Ain’t a reason in hell you should bow down or bend over for a leach like Mr. Friedman so he can butt bone your a-hole while enriching himself off your God given talents. God blesses those who seek him out, and those that don’t. I don’t know if Eddie Murphy went to Church, and sowed an offering every Sunday to God praying that the Father would make him the highest paid comedic actor in his prime. Richard Pryor was anointed in the womb to be the most blessed comedic talent, and influential comedian to ever walk this Earth bar none yet he and Mr. Murphy pursued their dreams in different ways with both of them becoming world renown. I'm inclined to ask, was it worth it?

Mark 8:36

For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

The synagogue of Satan isn’t a trending pop culture manifestation that’s to be esteemed, cherished, or envied. These cults are trying to maintain a stranglehold on a world that’s not meant for them or their sort. People who play with Ouija boards or childhood games like Bloody Mary, and light as a feather are ushering dark spirits into their homes leaving their loved ones exposed to something sinister. Get the hell away from me and mine unless you're my sister, AKA Ms. Skunk Funk, who needs to get the crust burnt off her musty, dusty drawers. The whore of Don Juan has a death wish. Explain to me how running with the devil beats walking with God?

Isaiah 59:7

7 Their feet run to evil, and they make haste to shed innocent blood: their thoughts are thoughts of iniquity; wasting and destruction are in their paths.

This Nation was built on our ancestor’s blood, sweat, and relentless faith. Believe me when I say there's strength in every tear. I pray to God that I don’t shed anymore of them. Their wealth is not. It's a stolen Promise that the Father shall reward His children with. Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it. The most glaring, and frustrating example that is also bitter and disheartening I can give you is our Promised Inheritance called Yisrael that the gentiles are squatting on. When a person or in this case a tribe or race of people believe in their own lies they've become reprobate; they're lost.

Revelation 3:9

9 Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and worship before thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee.

This is what all of Esau's children fear. It's why the bland, colored people of the world are flipping over the Earth's axis, and killing us without any probable cause. They are a lawless people who've displayed their lack of empathy, and humanity for anyone save their own breed, they behave like blood hounds. I've become content with this planet being void of water (Holy Spirit.) Black people suffer from a social disorder called the crab bucket mentality. We hate to see anyone rise up, and we’ll do whatever it takes to keep them down or discourage them. That person may possess something that can benefit the collective, who cares. He who possesses that blessing needs to haul tail ASAP before the winter comes knowing the Father will bless him, and a downtrodden people beyond their wildest dreams. This is why Yeshua, and His Father call us children. It's why I pray, and bemoan to the Father daily that He slays me, putting the fear of the Lord in the heathen and His Son Christ Jesus uses us for His purpose. God doesn't need us, we need Him. He's given us so much power, and authority. When you acquire it, use it for something other than satisfying your sinful, carnal, flesh minded desires. Men, don't behave like horn dogs, and women do not behave as Aholah, and Aholibah, 2 whores.

Numbers 32:24

24 Build you cities for your little ones, and folds for your sheep; and do that which hath proceeded out of your mouth.

Out of thine own mouth you have power to tread over snakes and scorpions. You can exorcise demons and devils out of your present life braking generational curses which is what I' want for a family that's disowned me. To God be the glory. God is telling us to declare a thing, and claim it. What a mighty, just God we serve. Your tongue will become a weapon to use against the lawless ones who use theirs recklessly in their attempts to get us arrested or murdered by local, and federal authorities. You can call it giving them a taste of their own medicine, it isn't. You're reclaiming what they've taken, stolen, including those of us they've murdered.

Isaiah 54:17

17 No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, and their righteousness is of me, saith the Lord.

The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly. Speak positive prayers out loud if you can. If you live with your family or have a roommate pray in the closet. You'll have favor with God that many people won't. They rebuked the Lord, and their anger did tear perpetually, and they kept their wrath forever. When they use their privilege, which is what we call it more often than they, comprehending they’re fully aware knowing they use it with a Demonic, driven hatred. They persecute Black men, women, and children for reasons that are not godly, and the Father does not condone. They, and all the Earth will have to answer for our individual sins against the Father in the end.

Luke 10:19

19 Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy: and nothing shall by any means hurt you.

We don’t worship the same god as they do. They're praying to a god to erase us off the face of the Earth. Why hasn't he?.

Exodus 1:12

12 But the more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and grew. And they were grieved because of the children of Israel.

Their birth rate is dropping steadily. For the first time in the history of the census they decreased in population globally while indigenous, and other races of people stayed steady or in our case increased. This is the reasoning behind these draconian abortion laws. They're trying to preserve themselves while God is eliminating the Earth of their bloody dominion. God is sending the wicked a message before the storm comes, but no one's listening. Their violence towards us is documented, and more often it's unprovoked. They continue with the guilty until proven worthy of their mercy dogmatic mantra which is racist BS. The Earth will be lulled back to sleep. When they're confident that their world isn't in danger of being challenged by anyone, especially us. That's when God will do things that will scare them right back to the caucasus mountains bringing destruction to those who've touched, bruised, and abused the Apple of His eye. Speak life into your angel spirit, don’t entertain the demon seed that's trying to kill you, and the rest of Earth's indigenous people. You have much authority, use it. Elohim. 9/23/2021

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chelsfic · 4 years

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Five Times Nandor Tried and Failed to Make a New Vampire, and One Time He Succeeded - Guillermo x Nandor fic (one-shot)

WWDITS Masterlist

Summary: Journey into Nandor’s past and discover the real reason he’s been so hesitant to turn Guillermo all these years...

A/N: I hope you enjoy this small offering!! If you like and comment that would make me a very happy little writer creature.

Warnings: Crack, Fluff, Smut, mentions of concubines in Nandor’s human past, Blood drinking...obviously

---

“Truth be told, I’m not feeling my usual plucky, intrepid self.”

Nandor bares his fangs in a nervous smile. He’s sitting stiffly on the chaise in his crypt, fiddling with his rings as the documentary people question him about tonight’s...big event.

The vampire lifts his eyes to the ceiling and exhales before continuing, “It’s just--and I don’t like talking about this, but Guillermo says I need to work on expressing my...feelings--it’s just that in the past I might not always have been... entirely successful in making new vampires.”

There’s a beat of awkward silence during which Nandor casually picks at some lint on his sleeve.

“I mean, there was my nineteenth wife…”

---

Andrakis

Nandor languished in the empty halls of his palace for a week after his thirty-seven wives left. But at a certain point there comes a time to stop moping and start acting. Plus he’d eaten all of the servants and he was a little alarmed by the crowd of peasants outside armed with pitchforks and torches.

So, his new vampiric form was a little problematic. He was now homeless, wifeless and--worst of all--horseless. Driven from his land, Nandor was forced to take refuge from the lethal light of day in whatever haphazard way he could. He snuck into wine cellars. He broke into catacombs. And, most shamefully, he even buried himself in the earth when no other shelter was available. But at least his new state gave him the means to solve one of his problems.

There was no reason that Nandor should have to walk the night alone. He thought he remembered enough of what transpired on the battlefield to be able to turn someone else into a vampire. And as soon as the thought occurred to him he knew there was only one person with whom he wished to share this cursed gift.

Andrakis . His favorite wife. She was sweet and young, with a magnificent ample backside that Nandor loved to squeeze and slap. She had not yet bore him any children but perhaps that was for the best. No messy loose ends for her to leave behind. He knew she would agree for she, alone among his wives, had wept sorrowfully as they rode away.

Nandor used his new vampiric senses to find her. It took months, but eventually he tracked her back to her family home along the Euphrates. He walked through lands scorched and ruined by his own army and he thought about the first time he laid eyes on Andrakis. As he recalled, the town was on fire and his men were pillaging the wealthy houses for gold and jewels. They were also rounding up the attractive, young citizens for...reasons. Nandor took one look at his sweet Andrakis and said, “No! That one is for me and me only!”

So romantic.

He could have kept her as his concubine, but Nandor was infatuated with her sweet, soft spoken ways and her delicious round thighs. He gave her jewels and furs and when he finally returned from the campaign he made her one of his wives. All Nandor’s wives loved him, of course, because if they didn’t he would have their heads chopped off. But it was different with Andrakis. She seemed to truly care. She fretted when he went into battle, insisting that she be the one to help him don his armor. She cried real tears and begged him to be safe and return to her. It really moved him. Also, again, she had a fantastic ass.

The night he, at last, found her, Nandor floated up to her window, scratching at the wooden shutters and calling to her softly.

“My sweet Andrakis! It is I, your husband, Nandor the Relentless! I’ve come to assert my claim on you, cherished one! Do you...want to, maybe, come to the window now and let me inside?”

With his heightened abilities, he could hear her soft gasp and the rustle of fabric as she pushed back her bed coverings and slowly approached the window. Nandor heard her heart racing, the thundering gush of blood flowing through her veins and her trembling breath. He opened his mouth and his eyes rolled back with pleasure as he caught the smell of her blood just on the other side of those thin planks of wood.

“Time to open up, sweet one!” Nandor singsonged, placing his hand on the shutter as if he could reach through and grab her.

“Is it really you, my husband?” Her voice was as soft and sweet as he remembered.

“It is really, really me, Andrakis!”

She unlatched the window and Nandor beamed at the sight of her pretty, round face. That may have been a mistake--he kept forgetting about the fangs--the poor woman took a quick step back and brought her hands to her chest in shock.

“Oh, my Nandi! What has happened to you?” her eyes widened and she took a cautious step toward the window, peeking out over the sill, “You are flying, dear one!”

“Isn’t it great?!” Nandor laughed, kicking his legs out merrily and doing a little twirl. “I thought you might want to join me. You know...with the flying and the eternal life and the--ehm--blood drinking.”

She started to shake her head before he even finished and Nandor’s smile faltered. He rushed back to the window sill and placed his hands there, just on the outside edge of the invisible barrier protecting the home’s occupants.

“Andrakis...I am so lonely. And...and there is no one to help me with my armor or give me a massage when my head hurts. I think you liked being my wife, didn’t you?”

The woman’s eyes flood with tears and she comes even closer, leaning onto the window sill and reaching out a shaking hand to press against his bearded cheek.

“I love you, Nandi! And I am honored to be your wife, always. I will not take another husband, but… Nandor, I am frightened!”

“My honey,” Nandor crooned, laying his forehead against hers as she leaned out the window, “There is nothing to fear. I will protect you forever if you will stay by side.”

---

“...and then I ate her.”

Nandor held his hands out and shrugged his shoulders, “What are you going to do? These things happen, right? No! I was very upset about it for the next eighty years or so. She trusted me to take care of her and I fucking ate her!”

Nandor stares into space for a long moment. He’s had eight centuries to get over the loss of his favorite wife so it’s not grief that shows on his pinched face. It looks more like apprehension and self-doubt. The crew asks a muffled question and he starts as if they’ve woken him from a daydream.

“No...no I do not think I would ever recover if I were to lose control with my Guillermo,” his hands clench into fists on his knees. “I will not lose control.”

There’s more silence and one of the crew members suggests cutting the interview when Nandor continues as if he hasn’t heard them, “Guillermo is strong. He’s a cool, vampire killer guy now. He will be alright. He...he has to be alright.”

---

“Nadja?” Nandor stands at the threshold to her and Laszlo’s crypt, anxiously plucking his fingers in the air. “May I speak with you about something in private? In the fancy room?”

Nadja is braiding her dolly’s hair. There’s something really creepy about that thing that Nandor can’t quite put his finger on. Like it’s always watching him. Yeesh . Nadja rolls her eyes and snaps, “Can’t we talk in here? I’m going to tell Laszlo whatever pig-brained scheme you’re wanting to talk about anyway…”

Nandor glances at Laszlo, hunched over and diddling the keys of his organ with a shit-eating grin, “That’s true, old chap. There are no secrets between me and my sweet mamtam…”

Laszlo winks smarmily and Nandor rolls his eyes, “Please, Nadja! It is just a formality!”

She shrieks in aggravation, accidentally yanking the doll’s hair and then cooing apologetically at the thing. Nandor grimaces uncomfortably.

“Fine, you stupid ostrich. But this better be quick!”

Once he’s properly secured the curtain and made sure to check for eavesdroppers, Nandor lays it out for Nadja. He speaks haltingly and without meeting her eyes.

“So...you see, now that Guillermo and I are...are...more than master and familiar, I am wanting to make him a vampire. But you may have noticed that my past attempts in this area have been a little shaky…”

“Shaky! I think you mean totally fucked up the rotten asshole! Don’t forget you told me all about Babsy the Brainscrambled!”

---

Babaius

Babaius was a little guy he met a couple hundred years after the whole thing with Andrakis. He was a Wallachian painter’s apprentice and he had agreed to do a gratis portrait of Nandor for the practice. The portrait was flat and middling, but what did you want? It was the 16th century and the cool Renaissance shit hadn’t exactly reached the backwoods of Eastern Europe quite yet. More important was the fact that this cute painter guy had managed to ingratiate himself with the apex predator he had unwittingly invited into his home.

Originally, Nandor’s plan was to kill him once the portrait was complete. But the longer he sat there, staring back at the man as he worked with that cute little half-smirk on his face, the longer Nandor had to appreciate his form. Babaius was not as curvy and sensuous as Andrakis. He was taller and leaner. But his lips were pleasantly plump and his fingers long and elegant. Again, Nandor felt the weight of eternal loneliness and he began to wonder.

This time he made sure to feed beforehand. When he arrived at the human’s rooms he found him looking more excited than Nandor had ever seen him.

“It’s complete!” he gushed, grabbing Nandor’s hand and pulling him over to the easel. “Come see!”

Nandor stared at the clumsy, dour-faced rendering of himself and smiled politely. Is this really what I look like? Why is my head so small?

He felt the weight of Babaius’s hopeful eyes on him and schooled his voice into false praise, “Wow! It’s...so...wow! You sure used a lot of...orange on my face, didn’t you? Bold choice…”

“I’m so pleased that you like it, Nandor,” the human’s voice was slightly breathless and he looked up through his lashes coquettishly. Ah ha!

“Yes, well, now that that’s done…” Nandor swept Babaius’s long hair off his shoulder and plucked at the collar of his thin shirt. “Perhaps we could discuss other things…”

“ Oh, yes! ” Babaius trilled, launching himself into Nandor’s arms and frantically dropping kisses on his neck, chin and jaw. “I thought ...but I wasn’t certain… but yes, Nandor! Yes!”

Nandor wrapped his arms around the man’s back and laughed a little at just how easy this was going to be. No mistakes this time. He was completely and totally in control.

---

“Alright, Najda! I get it! I know you have to give them more than just one drop of blood now, okay?”

Nadja nods somberly, “That poor man. Could not even remember his own name after you turned him. What happened to him again?”

“I ripped off his head,” Nandor snaps, sinking into the couch cushions in a sulk. “It was the humane thing to do.”

Nadja squints her eyes trying to remember something, “But wasn’t there someone else after…?”

Nandor’s lips thin into a narrow line and he crosses his arms over his chest with a huff of annoyance, “I suppose you mean Aggy the Shrieker?”

---

Agnes

Agnes was something called a Quaker, which meant that she did not go about wearing a crucifix. She was also highly susceptible to hypnosis. Nandor didn’t think this had anything to do with her Quaking, it was just a nice bonus. She’d served him well for a number of years, procuring a very fine assortment of virgins for him night after night. The good lady was entirely ignorant to the fact that it was she who drew these young innocents to their doom. Nandor erased her memories each time before sending her away. She would hem and cluck along with the other Friends when news of a disappearance reached her ears.

After a few decades, Nandor noticed that her face was starting to turn wrinkly and her movements were not as swift as they once were. The prospect of finding another familiar with a brain as soft and accepting as Agnes’s was a wearying thought. Enough so that he considered, once again, trying his hand at creating a new vampire.

This time it was a sure thing. Agnes appeared at his doorstep that night, like always. At her side was a fresh-faced boy whose blood positively shouted his innocence. Delicious . Nandor would feed first. Then he would just do a quick refresher of Agnes’s hypnosis so that the poor lady did not have a fright once she saw Nandor’s blood stained face. And then a quick nip and plenty of blood. Voila! A new wrinkly-faced vampire baby is born.

The plan was faultless.

---

“And no hypnosis! Alright. Seems nit-picky, but fine!” Nandor grumbles. He seems suddenly to remember that Nadja is helping him and his voice softens, “ Please, Nadja . No more walking on memory street. Just tell me what to do so that I do not hurt Guillermo. I cannot stand the thought of him becoming a shrieker .”

“Nandor, you beautiful giant baby,” Nadja’s face gentles into genuine sympathy. “I’m going to tell you just what to do. Even you won’t be able to mess this up.”

And she does. She tells him how to listen to his human’s heart and count the seconds in between beats, waiting until just the right moment to finish drinking. She advises him to prepare his blood ahead of time, decanting it into a vial or mug. He should not count on Guillermo being conscious enough to suckle from his wrist as he’d originally intended. Pour the blood down his throat if he has to. Once he drinks the blood the transition will begin, but Nandor’s work is not done. He must procure for his new vampire the most succulent of virgin feasts. He must care for him during the sickness. He must watch over him and make sure that the baby vampire does not do anything silly like run out into the sunlight or drink a gallon of holy water.

“You must be resolved and sure in your actions!” Nadja finally says, casting a skeptical glance at the immortal warrior. “You think you can handle all that?”

Nandor sits there looking shell shocked for a moment before twitching his mouth into a forced smile and holding up two thumbs.

“OK-A!”

---

On his way back to his crypt Nandor glances into the camera and leans in conspiratorially.

“She does not even know about Roger the Rocker or Benjy…” he whispers, his lips folding into an embarrassed frown.

---

Roger

During the 1970s Nandor went through a brief but intense love affair with punk rock. Disco would soon supplant the vampire’s fixation on studded leather and the Sex Pistols, but for a few fleeting years he was, truly, insufferable.

“ Fucking goats’ balls ! Nandor! We are trying to have a blood feast in here! Will you turn off that unholy screeching!?” Nadja shouted, blood dripping down her chin as she drew back from the pathetically mewling woman sandwiched between herself and her husband.

Laszlo reared back with a lecherous grin on his bloody lips, “Did I hear you mention something about unholy screeching, my sweet dimplebottom?”

“ Oh, Laszlo! ” Nadja giggled, leaning over the dying victim to latch onto her lover’s mouth.

Nandor slammed the door to his crypt and rolled his eyes, “Don’t mind them, Roger. They’re just a couple of sell-out perverts who don’t understand ay-narchy and non-conformationism.”

Roger was a young human man with spiked green hair and a studded leather vest. He was the coolest familiar Nandor had ever had. He was also an alcoholic and a heavy drug user and half the time he didn’t even do what Nandor asked of him. But once he explained about “the man” and toppling “the system”...well, Nandor still didn’t get it but he was impressed! He felt that Roger would bring a certain rebellious youth to their cohort that might give them a cutting edge in these modern times.

The problem was that Nandor had never tried drug blood before. It didn’t hit him until Roger was half-drained but then the world spun off its axis. Nandor ripped his face away from Roger’s savaged neck, stumbling backward and falling down hard on his ass. The vampire exploded into a fit of giggles as the familiar twitched limply on the floor beside him.

“Roger! I am ball tripping!” Nandor laughed, turning his head to look at his friend, “Whoopsie! Almost forgot! Time for a little drinky, Roger…”

Nandor tore into his own wrist, ripping a jagged wound open with his fangs and smearing the gore over Roger’s lips and chin.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Nandor cackled, falling back down and letting his wrist fall limp against the human’s mouth. He started singing softly under his breath, “Ayyyynarchy and the U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.!”

In the end Nandor was so high he went to his slumber completely forgetting about the moaning, half-turned man on the floor of his crypt. He woke the next night to find Roger wandering around the front lawn, sun-burned and hideously deformed. He also had no memory of who Nandor was or anything at all about his human life.

Nandor wouldn’t see him again until decades later when he caught the skeevy creep trying to take a bite out of Guillermo at the Sassy Cat Club. Nandor was so spooked to see the evidence of his past failure standing next to his most cherished human companion that he...perhaps handled the incident in a less-than-totally-gallant manner.

---

Benjy

Benjy...to be honest, Nandor isn’t entirely sure what came of the old clunker. He turned him and dumped him. Maybe not his finest moment but...Nandor had other things on his mind at the time…

---

Guillermo

The moment that Guillermo flew to their rescue at the Nouveau Théâtre des Vampires, Nandor felt something shift inside his chest. It was an actual physical sensation like a key turning in a lock. How many years had he spent building moats, walls and fortresses between himself and his handsome, caring, devoted, achingly good familiar in order to protect his sweet innocence from the poison that was Nandor the Relentless? And all along he’d been underestimating him! Nandor watched Guillermo twirl, kick, punch and stake his way through a theater full of angry vampires. In the end he stood alone on a mountain of conquered enemies, covered in blood and heaving with the adrenaline of battle.

Nandor had never been more aroused.

He was silent and brooding on the drive home. He sat in the passenger seat and kept flicking his eyes in Guillermo’s direction, hoping to catch his gaze. But his ex-familiar kept his eyes fixed on the road, his face a storm cloud of some scary-looking emotion that Nandor couldn’t name. The vampire felt unease crawl up his spine. Was he planning to leave again as soon as he dropped them off at the house?

Nandor cringed in embarrassment as he watched the look of disappointment cross Guillermo’s features at the sight of the wrecked foyer. Dead bodies littered the floor, candle wax and blood stained every surface. He was overcome with shame and humiliation that they had made such a mess of the home Guillermo had toiled to maintain for eleven years.

Guillermo stood awkwardly in the front doorway, not quite inside and not quite outside, hovering on the threshold of their home. It was their home , wasn’t it? Nandor’s eyes flicked to the sad, dirty mattress in the cupboard beneath the stairs and he silently cursed himself. It’s possible he may not have made this quite a happy home for Guillermo.

“I’ll just...go now…” Guillermo’s voice was soft and uncertain again, as if he hadn’t just committed a bad ass massacre.

“No!” the word strangled from Nandor’s throat and he lurched forward, raising his hand to stop the human. For a split second he was completely unguarded and the raw desperation in his voice and on his face froze Guillermo in his tracks. Then Nandor’s eyes shifted to his fellow vampires, feeling the weight of their stares and he continued in a closer approximation to his usual haughty authority, “I would speak with you a moment. In private.”

Once the door to his crypt clicked shut Nandor rounded on Guillermo, taking him by the shoulders and pressing him into the heavy wooden door. He loomed over the human for a moment, fangs bared, breathing raggedly as he scented him. Guillermo’s intoxicating, virginal aroma was mixed with the tang of his enemies’ blood. The irresistible fragrance threatened to overcome the vampire and he let out a pitiful mewling cry as he pressed even closer. Nandor’s forehead thunked against the door and his body was flush with Guillermo’s. Now he would know . The hard, bulging evidence of Nandor’s arousal was pressed into the human’s soft thigh-- unmistakable . Nandor keened a sob and his body went boneless as he fell to his knees in supplication before the human.

“Guillermo, please!” Nandor sobbed.

Guillermo stood as if paralyzed, staring back at his former master with shocked, wide eyes. Nandor felt broken, like one of those colorful donkeys split open and pouring out his guts. He did not exactly know what it was he wanted. Everything about this moment was highly uncomfortable. For one thing, the floor was very hard and hurty on his knees. For another thing, his erection was straining painfully in his pants. Also, he was realizing for the first time in his long, long life that there existed a person whom Nandor loved more than himself. And he was desperately, mortally afraid that Guillermo would leave him again.

“What is it, master?” Guillermo flinched at the slip up but he pressed on, his eyes burning with earnest intensity. “What do you want?”

Nandor had known the answer to this question for eleven years. He knew it the first time he laid eyes on the sweet, plump mortal working the panini press at Panera Bread. He knew it the first time Guillermo graced him with his smile after Nandor showed him his fangs. He knew it when Guillermo came to live with them, hauling his rolly luggage case up the front steps and shaking with nerves and excitement. He knew it when he spent hours crafting his familiar’s sweet face from glitter. He knew it when Guillermo cried, silently begging Nandor to give him a reason to stay. He’d known it in a thousand different ways for a thousand different reasons and he’d keep knowing it for a thousand years, long after the flicker of Guillermo’s short human life extinguished.

“You,” Nandor’s voice was a broken whisper. “I want you, Guillermo.”

The air expelled from Guillermo’s lungs in a shaky gasp as he fell to his knees as well. He took the vampire’s face in his warm little hands and Nandor had to remind himself that those were hands capable of plunging a wooden stake through his heart. The very thought sent another wave of lust through him.

Guillermo’s lips trembled and his eyes flooded with tears as he spoke, “If you’re just saying that to manipulate me…”

Nandor grabbed Guillermo’s wrists, circling them with his long fingers, keeping him from removing his hands from Nandor’s face.

“No, Guillermo. I--I have not been a good master to you…” Nandor gulped, fighting years of careful control in order to get the words out. “I’ve lied to you many, many times. Made you think that you were just a servant to me. I thought that I was protecting us both. But...really I was hurting you. When you left me I...I…”

Nandor’s voice trailed off and Guillermo allowed it, not wanting to push his fragile vampire too far.

“If we’re going to do this, I need to know. I need to know what exactly you want from me, Nandor. Because I know what I want. I’ve known for eleven... fucking years,” Guillermo’s voice hardens toward the end and Nandor feels himself go weak. His little Guillermo...so forceful and strong!

Suddenly the human was leaning in and brushing his lips over Nandor’s. It was the barest, gentlest hint of a kiss but it felt like a live wire touching his skin. Nandor’s eyes drifted closed and he saw stars as Guillermo pushed his tongue between his lips and plundered his mouth. Oh, why had he forced them to wait so long for this?

Guillermo pulled back, the combination of his blushing cheeks and the splatter of blood along his jaw was a powerful image. Nandor whined, following Guillermo’s movement and pecking kisses to the man’s mouth.

“Nandor, wait! Stop!” There was mirth in Guillermo’s eyes but a fragile uncertainty as well. “I need you to tell me this is what you want. That I’m not going to wake up tomorrow and find you pretending this never happened. Things have to change if we’re...if we’re going to do this.”

Nandor nodded frantically, pawing at his human’s face as unmanly tears spilled from his eyes and rolled into the whiskers of his beard.

“Yes! Please! I want this. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’re brave and strong and cool and beautiful and I lo--” Nandor’s mouth snapped shut and his dark eyes widened in fear at the words that almost slipped out. But when he took in his human’s guarded yet hopeful expression he growled and forced them out. “I love you, Guillermo.��

Guillermo choked on a sob and his face crumbled rather alarmingly.

“I love you so fucking much you stupid asshole,” he replied.

Nandor scowled, “Hey! There’s no need for all that!”

But before he could work himself up to being truly affronted, Guillermo launched himself at him, knocking Nandor over backwards and attacking his face with his mouth.

“Things are going to change,” Guillermo repeated between open-mouthed kisses along Nandor’s bearded jaw.

“Yes!”

“I’m not gonna dig graves for you anymore or polish your boots!”

“...Alright.”

“And,” Guillermo ripped open the fly of Nandor’s trousers, eliciting a delighted howl from the vampire, “you’re going to make me a vampire.”

---

“So tonight is the night!” Nandor injects false levity into his voice as he strides down the hallway carrying a stack of towels on one arm. The camera shakes as the crew follows behind him.

“I’ve made all of the arrangements! We have a juicy virgin in the cell…”

The camera peaks into a dimly lit closet where a young man is bound and gagged. Across his forehead giant block letters spell out: “DO NOT EAT! GUILLERMO’S VIRGIN FEAST!”

“I’ve decanted plenty of my blood…”

Nandor holds up a mason jar filled with thick, dark crimson liquid as he mounts the stairs.

“I’ve got the towels and Guillermo has a first aid box ready…”

He finally arrives at the door to the big, blue bedroom and turns around to face the camera with an apologetic smile.

“ Vampires only! ” He slams the door in their faces.

Once the door closes behind him Nandor lets out a long breath and his head falls back to hit the wood with a loud thunk. He lets the facade drop for just a second and the cloying anxiety and terror of what he is about to do rises to the surface. Then Guillermo looks up at him from where he’s sitting up on his big new bed and Nandor forces a cheery smile.

“Who’s ready for their unholy transformation?!” he warbles, shaking the jar of blood in his hand.

Guillermo grins, coming over to stand before him in all his warm, soft, human grandeur. Nandor drops his head and plucks at the sleeve of his ex-familiar’s thick, stripy sweater. He hopes that Guillermo will not think himself too cool to wear such garments once he is a vampire. He’s grown to love Guillermo’s simple human clothes.

“Nandor…” Guillermo takes the jar and the towels from him, setting them down on his bureau next to the collection of wooden stakes and crucifixes. “You don’t have to pretend. I’m scared too.”

The vampire lets out a breath and tugs his human into his chest, wrapping him in a fierce, suffocating hug. He lets his cheek rest on top of Guillermo’s dear head. Guillermo clings to the front of Nandor’s long tunic, pressing his face into the rich, embroidered fabric and wetting it with his tears.

“It’ll be okay,” Guillermo comforts Nandor, his voice trembling with emotion. In the short weeks since the incident at the theater and since their relationship took such a sharp turn in the right direction, Guillermo has been shocked and pleasantly surprised to find how dramatically the dynamic between them has changed. Guillermo isn’t just Nandor’s equal now. He’s his touchstone, his protector, and his deeply cherished lover.

“You don’t know that, Guillermo,” Nandor sniffles. “What if I brainscramble you like I did to Ba...Baba...Bambie?”

“Babaius?” Guillermo prompts, pulling back from the embrace enough to lock eyes with the weepy vampire. Nandor has told him his whole sorry history of failures and abominations. It was Guillermo’s idea for Nandor to seek out Nadja’s guidance. And though he’s nervous and frightened about his transition...there is no one else in the world from whom Guillermo would accept this gift. “You won’t scramble my brains, Nandor. I trust you.”

The soft cry that Nandor makes at those words cuts to Guillermo’s soul.

Nandor sniffs and attempts to pull himself back together. He speaks confidently, as if his words are an incantation that will somehow conjure success, “Well, of course you trust me, Guillermo. I’m a very strong, cool vampire. There’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to make another vampire when a freaky pervert like Nadja is doing it all over the place.”

Guillermo snorts and pulls Nandor in for another quick squeeze before drawing away toward the bed, “Should we…?”

“Yes...oh! Wait!” Nandor grabs the towels off the bureau, hissing when he accidentally grazes a crucifix with his hand. He hurries forward and starts laying them down on top of Guillermo’s thick comforter. “I don’t want your nice, new bed to get ruined.”

Guillermo smiles warmly as he watches his ex-master’s efforts.

“Well...it’s not like I’ll be sleeping on it anymore after tonight…” he murmurs, causing Nandor to think about the shiny new coffin sitting next to his downstairs.

Nandor shrugs, “No...but we might--you know--do other things on the bed still…”

He smooths his hands over the towels and retrieves the jaw of blood, placing it within easy reach on the nightstand before climbing onto the bed and stretching out in an unintentional come-hither pose. Nandor’s soft, long locks fall over his shoulders and his big, dark eyes look up at Guillermo with longing and terror. He pats the spot beside him on the bed.

Guillermo clambors up after him, stretching out at his side and letting his head fall into the mountain of pillows that Nandor had insisted on purchasing for him after their...reconciliation. He smiles shyly and looks up at the vampire, his cheeks turning bright red.

“Is it alright if we...do some of those ‘ other things ’ first?” he asks, dancing his fingers over Nandor’s tunic. “You know...my last time as a h-human?”

The stutter in Guillermo’s voice interrupts Nandor’s contented perusal of his human’s delicious body and he meets the man’s eyes. Guillermo’s cheeks are irresistibly red and his lips are parted slightly with lust. But his eyebrows are all crinkled and there are still some tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Nandor can’t really relate to Guillermo’s fear. When he was turned he was in the middle of dying on the field of battle. He didn’t have a clue what was happening when the strange vampire descended upon him. What would it feel like to go into it knowingly? To place his life in the hands of the one that he loved knowing there was a chance that things might go terribly wrong?

Guillermo is incredibly brave.

“Yes, my Guillermo,” Nandor cries, leaning in and pressing their mouths together in a desperate kiss. “Anything you want.”

They take their time with the kiss, lips and tongues sliding and probing as they clumsily undress each other. By the time they’re both naked the floor of Guillermo’s bedroom is littered with discarded items of clothing and the towels on the bed are askew. Guillermo throws his leg over Nandor’s thick waist and straddles the man, their aching erections rubbing together as he leans down to trail kisses across Nandor’s hairy chest.

Nandor throws his head back in the pillows, his hair tangling as he writhes underneath Guillermo. He will miss the feeling of his human’s impossible warmth. The way his kisses seem to sear a blazing path over Nandor’s cold skin. The way his silky smooth rod pulses with molten heat. The feeling of plunging inside Guillermo’s fiery, grasping tightness. Nandor curses himself, yet again, for not allowing them both to have this sooner.

Guillermo’s hips rise and fall as he strokes himself against Nandor. The air between them grows humid with their breath and the room fills with the sounds of whimpers and moans. Guillermo places a hand on Nandor’s chest for balance and he leans over to his nightstand to grab the small bottle of lube sitting there.

He holds it aloft and says, as if reading Nandor’s mind, “Do you want to feel me one last time before…?”

Nandor’s lips split into a grin and he grabs the tube from his human’s hand, nodding fervently as he drips the liquid onto his fingers. He’s careful and gentle with his Guillermo, mindful of how new this still is for him. He reaches between his delicious thighs and slides his wet fingers around until he finds what he’s looking for, pressing gently and then more firmly as Guillermo opens up for him.

Guillermo’s breath escapes him and he presses down on Nandor’s fingers with a wanton cry, riding him needily. Once he’s ready, Nandor pours out more liquid, slicking his cock and grasping Guillermo’s hips to move him into position.

“Are you ready, Guillermo?” he asks and the words take on an added meaning with the knowledge of what’s to come hovering in the air between them.

Guillermo senses Nandor’s seriousness in the moment and he meets his eyes, smiling softly before replying, “Yes, Nandor. I’m ready. Really .”

The sex is a revelation and a comfort. Falling into Guillermo is like coming home. It’s like finally finding the place he was always meant to be. Even 700 years ago when Nandor was a ruler in his prime, he never felt this level of peace and belonging. He watches his beautiful, strong, brave human fall apart on top of him. They take turns setting the pace. Guillermo bounces frantically in Nandor’s lap until the vampire grabs his hips and holds him still so he can thrust upward, slowly and tenderly. He penetrates deep until Guillermo is near tears and the human’s poor erection is leaking copiously onto Nandor’s soft belly.

Nandor finally releases his hold on Guillermo’s hips and wraps his hand around his erection, pumping up and down quickly as he bounces the man on his own cock.

“I’m close, Guillermo,” he whispers, stroking the human rapidly to edge him along. “Come with me. Please!”

They fall over the precipice together, panting and clinging as their bodies quake with the intensity of their love making. Guillermo collapses on Nandor’s chest and the vampire wraps his arms around him automatically, soothingly running his palms down his lover’s sweaty back as he twitches and catches his breath.

“You’re getting very good at that, Guillermo,” Nandor murmurs with a hint of teasing in his voice.

Guillermo snorts, “Yeah, I think you’ve almost got the hang of it, too, Nandor.”

Nandor laughs and smacks his behind playfully, “Do not be thinking that just because you’re going to be a vampire you can start being so cheeky with me! I’m still seven hundred and twenty-eight years older than you, mortal.”

Guillermo grins and hums in response, pillowing his head into Nandor’s broad chest with a contented sigh.

After a little while, Nandor shifts Guillermo off of him and lays him down on the bed with a gentle reverence. He picks up one of the towels and uses it to carefully clean him, dabbing between his legs and swiping over his soft stomach. Nandor takes his time, his face turning dark and serious as he contemplates what comes next.

When he’s finally finished he says, almost shyly, “There’s just one more thing I want to do first…”

Nandor stretches out at Guillermo’s side and rests his head over the human’s chest, directly over his beating heart. His hair fans out over Guillermo’s flushed skin and the human brings his fingers up to toy with it as Nandor listens.

Thump...thump...thump…

How many nights has Nandor awoken in his coffin, still gripped by the horror of a half-remembered nightmare and listened for that comforting sound to lull him back to sleep? How often has he heard that steady rhythm interrupted when Nandor did something that particularly stirred his familiar’s illicit attraction? How many thousands of beats has he taken for granted over the years? Soon that steady tattoo will cease forever. Nandor feels panic grip him but he reminds himself that things will be different this time. Guillermo will come back to him as he always does.

He does not feel ready but the hours are ticking away and he’d like to finish this well before dawn. Nandor shuffles up the bed, leaning on an elbow and letting his hair cascade down around Guillermo’s face. He brushes his thumb over his lips, caresses his jaw line and the ridge of his brow. He’s memorizing the way his beloved looks right now, flushed with life.

“Guillermo, I want you to know that even if I do scramble your brains--which I won’t!--but even if I do, I will take care of you forever,” Nandor says, his eyes wide and earnest. “I’ll never abandon you or rip off your head. That’s a promise.”

Guillermo should scoff or snort or roll his eyes but instead he sobs and beams up at Nandor as he answers, “I know, baby. I’ll never leave you or rip off your head either. I promise.”

Nandor nods and his dark eyes shift to focus on the crook of Guillermo’s neck. His skin is still slicked with the cooling sweat of their coupling and Nandor can see his pulse jumping in his throat. He opens his mouth in a hungry leer and his fangs elongate slightly.

“This will hurt, Guillermo,” his voice is dark and menacing, but also mournful. “I am sorry.”

He snakes a hand behind Guillermo’s neck and cradles his head to the side as he lowers his mouth to his vulnerable throat. He hovers there for a moment and marvels at the way his lover’s body surrenders so sweetly to him. Guillermo is soft and loose in his arms, the perfect victim. Nandor banishes that word from his mind. Guillermo, sweet, sensitive, competent, strong, scary, loving, powerful Guillermo. He is not a victim. He plunges his fangs into his human’s soft neck and takes from him the sweetest gift Guillermo has ever given.

Nandor’s terror and anxiety melt away as the blood pours over his tongue and down his throat. He has always known that Guillermo would taste delicious but this is ridiculous. He tastes like the joy of riding John over an open plain, he tastes like the excitement of watching the Dream Team do battle on the basketball court, and, most of all, he tastes like Guillermo. Like fuzzy knit hats and secret smiles and quiet evenings playing chess. Like longing and hunger and wistful pain. Like strength and desire and the thrill of conquest. Nandor drinks deeply, memorizing the flavor as his lover goes more and more limp in his arms.

He listens, once more, to the beating of that heart, just as Nadja said to do. He waits like Guillermo used to do, listening to the pops while he was making his corn kernel snack in the multiwave machine. Once the rhythm begins to slow Nandor pulls back, licking his lips and scrambling for the jar of blood on the nightstand.

He gathers Guillermo into his arms and the human moans low in his throat. Nandor feels unadulterated joy at the sound. He is still here . But when he looks down at his human’s pale, ashen face, a sob tears free from his throat. His lustrous, brilliant Guillermo diminished to such a drab reflection… Nandor mentally slaps himself and unscrews the jar, bringing it to Guillermo’s pale lips.

“Time for your snack now, Guillermo,” Nandor’s voice shakes. He strokes his fingers through the human’s curly hair as he lifts his head and begins to tip the contents of the jar into his open mouth.

Nothing happens for a small eternity. Nandor watches the blood pool in his lover’s mouth and spill out the sides of his lips with a feeling of increasing helplessness.

“Guillermo? Can you still hear me? It’s time to start drinking so you can become a cool vampire just like me and your friend, Armand…”

Guillermo’s eyes are closed and his body is unnaturally still.

“Please drink, Guillermo! I’m going to be very cross with you if you do not!”

His skin looks waxy and he feels heavier in Nandor’s arms. The vampire tugs him further into his lap and clutches him to his chest, tears falling onto the eerily calm face.

“Guillermo, you said you wouldn’t leave me again, please! ”

Guillermo swallows. Nandor watches with a giant, goofy grin on his face as the man’s throat bobs and the blood disappears from his mouth. He brings the jar back up to his lips and continues to hand feed him, taking comfort in the way Guillermo’s lips purse as he drinks down the vampire’s life-giving blood.

“That’s it, my cherished one,” Nandor says, slipping into endearments he used several lifetimes ago. “Drink, sweet honey. And don’t ever fucking scare me like that again !”

Guillermo snorts as he drains the dredges from the jar, blood bubbles forming on his lips as they curve into a smile. Nandor watches, his eyes wide and wondering, as Guillermo’s eyes flutter open and he feels a sense of intense relief when he recognizes that smile as the same one he fell in love with eleven years ago. Only...you know...with the fangs and the blood stains…

---

“So, I’d say it was a marked success!” Nandor shouts into the camera a few nights later. “Of course, there was a lot of vomiting and achy-pains in the beginning...but once that passed and he drank some human blood everything was OK-A! Isn’t that right, Guillermo?”

The camera zooms out to include Guillermo in the shot. He’s sitting next to Nandor on the chaise, their hands clasped together between them. His skin tone is very much the same although without the lively blush that used to grace his cheeks. He’s noticeably in tact, no pointed ears or deformities and seemingly in full possession of his brains.

He smiles and the camera zooms in on his newly minted fangs.

“ A-OK , Nandor,” he corrects in an affectionate tone. He leans over and kisses the immortal warrior on the cheek.

Nandor, still unused to public displays of affection, smiles nervously and answers with a roll of his eyes, “As I said, Guillermo!”

#nandor x guillermo #guillermo x nandor #nandermo #nandor x guillermo fanfic #wwdits #wwdits fanfic #smut

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