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dior-and-dietcoke · 2 years

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⠀⠀ ⠀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍 𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍!

RIDDLE, LEONA, AZUL, KALIM, VIL, IDIA, MALLEUS ‧₊˚⊹

18+, sizekink, NONCON, DARK CONTENT, toxic relationship, toxic behaviour, threats, fingering, they are all overblotted its just not explicitly mentioned (kalim too), vaginal sex, drugging, yandere themes, mentions of violence, rough sex, kidnapping,

The house wardens as yanderes

all chars are over 18 ⊹ reader's skin color is not mentioned ⊹ mdni

VIL

Vil loves you, so, so, so much! He thinks you're so pretty, maybe even just as pretty as him..and that says a lot coming from him.

You two met at night raven collage, of course. But once you started dating, he got angry at everyone who even took a glance at you. How fucking dare they look at his jewel?! His one and only?? HIS QUEEN!?

Vil spent restless nights of thinking about what he should do about others getting to look at his perfect future wife, only he should be able to look at you.

Then he got it. He needs to lock you up in his home.

So he invited you over like every other day to drink some tea with you, but your tea was spiked.

All you remember is talking with vil and the next thing was that you were in a place you've never seen before. It was a beautiful and huge bedroom. You guessed it was vil's but..where? Did he take you home?!

"My love! You're awake.." you heard next to you "I almost thought rook put in the wrong poision.." he sighed in Relief. You were still really dizzy and as you tried to sit up..you couldn't.

You were tied to the bed by your wrists and ankles "v-vil?..what.." vil just smiled like he always does "oh, don't panic, my love..you're safe now..from all those peasants who don't even deserve to take a look at you. You're all mine now, you don't have to worry about them" he seemed beyond happy but you were about to burst out into tears.

Vil suddenly got on the bed and traced your body with his perfect hands, "don't look so frightened..my doll.." he kissed you softly, his once sweet and warm lips tasted like poison to you now. He disgusted you.

"You're safe with me.." he breathed against your lips and his soft kisses quickly got needy and sloppy. He moaned into the kisses and then pulled back "my perfect doll..so perfect.." he smiled and just took all of your clothes off, you tried to fight against it but it was no use.

his thumb slid over your exposed nipple "s-stop, vil! I-i'm begging you!" Vil frowned "my dear, please be quiet..or I might have to shut your mouth." He thought his threat will shut you up but you just kept whining and begging him to not do this.

He just groaned and took the last article of clothes off that he kept on your body, your pink lacey panties, and stuffed them into your mouth. You resisted so he had to pry your mouth open to get it inside.

"Way better, isn't it?" You shook your head and cried, but your tears only made him harder, seeing that makeup that you spent hours on run down your cheeks was such a sight "oh my dear..look at what you're doing to me.." he blushed and bit down on his index finger as he pushed his clothed erection against your pussy. The only thing separating your sweet cunt from his cock was his thin, red, and silky robe.

"I want to finally feel my doll around me.. I've been thinking about this ever since I met you.." you clenched your eyes shut and kept sobbing, looking like an angel to him. You should be happy that vil schönheit wants you all to himself, most people would kill to be in your Position!

"Mein geliebter Engel..Du bist so wunderschön.." he whispered against your lips before he kissed you again, mixing both of your lipglosses even more

"Du wirst für immer mir gehören.." he moaned between kisses. And you suddenly felt his hard, dripping cock against your entrance "oh..you're not wet yet..don't worry" he leaned down to your pussy and spit on it before licking up your folds to your clit and giving it a quick suck, to then let it go with a lewd Pop.

"That felt good, didn't it?" He smiled, spreading your pussy lips

"s-so pretty.." he completely lost his composure once he took a good look at your beautiful pussy. He doesn't like getting desperate, it's unattractive. But he can't help it.

"I'm going fucking make you pregnant, you'll stay with me forever then! Won't you? Say that you will, say it."

KALIM

It isnt like kalim to be controlling.. by his own will no less..

But Kalim has trapped you in his huge mansion for 10 days now "you won't leave right? You will stay right?" He asked with a bright smile on his face. You nodded nervously and Kalim laid back down on your soft chest, with his arms around your waist.

"No..you wouldn't..you love me. You wouldn't lead me on like that, I know it." He kissed one of your tits and giggled happily "if anyone would take you away from me, they would be killed on sight. You wouldn't want that for anyone right?" You slowly shook your head and Kalim hugged you tighter

"And that's why you need to stay here, right here..in my arms..forever. for as long as we both live!"

AZUL

You been together with Azul for only a month now but you already knew it wasn't going to work out, but anytime you confronted him about him being too possessive he suddenly freaked out and said horrible things like "how could you even think of leaving me? Why would you do this to me?" So you always just apologized and he went right back to being normal.

Suddenly one day azul pulled you out of the Halls into an empty classroom, to slam you against the wall

"A-Azul what-" "shut up!" He interrupted you and suddenly ripped your panties down your legs "AZUL!" You yelled but he slapped you to shut you up "Floyd told me how you were talking about breaking up with me." He quickly sucked on his fingers to then ram them into your pussy, you moaned loudly into your hand and felt tears starting to form.

"Didn't know azul could get that angry~" you suddenly heard floyd say, followed up by jades giggle

You started crying and gripped onto azuls shoulders for dear life "y-you know I would never do that, Azul! please!" The eel twin grabbed your face harshly "you sayin' that I'm lyin? I know what I heard." Jade then slowly took Floyd's hand away from your pretty face and said "don't get too worked up, she probably knows what she did wrong"

Azul just ignored them and continued talking with you "you know that I wouldn't want to live without you! Do you want me to suffer? Do you want me to die?!" His Fingers sped up and you let a moan slip

"Look, she's getting off on watching poor Azul in pain" Floyd giggled, your eyes widened and you shook your head "n-no! No! I-i-" Azul slapped you again and dragged you over to the tables to slam you down onto one of them, the three men looked down at you..looking almost disappointed.

did you really Do something wrong?

Are you a bad person for wanting to leave azul?

The white-haired man started to walk to the door "make her feel like I feel and shut her mouth..that slutty mouth gets way too loud, don't want anyone to know what a bad person you are, right?" His last question was directed at you. Then azul left you alone with the two hungry-looking eels.

You should have never wanted to break up with azul..

LEONA

Leona isn't used to doing his wrongdoings on his own, but you're worth it. You're worth taking a break from his laziness

He took you back home and locked you up in his room, with your ankle chained to his bed.

"Herbivore, it's all your fault." He rasped as the lion laid beside you, fingers pinching your clit looking your beautiful form up and down, he sat up and looked down at you

"Getting all handsy with Jack of all people..you brought this upon yourself." As said before, Leona doesn't like handling things on his own. But he had no other choice.

No one will find you here anyway, because who would think that Leona of all people had a dangerously possessive crush on you? "L-Leona..please..let me-" before you could end your sentence Leona slapped you before going back to rubbing your clit and driving you closer to yours.

you stopped counting how many times you've came..you don't even know how to count properly anymore

"You speak when spoken to from now on, herbivore.." he sighed and caressed the spot where he slapped you "you need to realize what you have done wrong..only then can I take those chains off of you." You whimpered desperately, but that only Set the lion off.

Your little whimpers and cries are just awakening his primal desires of mating with you, with his little prey..he has full control over you. He might even become King if he'd breed you over and over again..but truly..he doesn't even think about not being King when you're by his side.

RIDDLE

Riddle has been in love with you ever since he met you, you even agreed to trying to oblige the Queen's rules!

But you arent his yet..because you've still been talking to some students in a flirtatious manner..he didn't like that. At all.

It makes him furious, jealous, murderous even..

He needed them to be gone, so its off with their heads, literally..

He had enough of people talking about his rose like she was an object, he needed to end it. He didn't care about consequences..he just needed you all to himself, riddle would kill everyone he knows, just for you to be his own.

"You understand, right?" He asked caressing your cheek, staining it with the blood of all of the heartsylabul students. The beautiful redhead put the axe down and stared into your terrified eyes, so lovingly. Riddle seemed so calm, so happy..even though he has just killed so many innocent people, including his friends.

"May I kiss you, my love?" He asked softly, you had no choice but to say yes. He would kill you too if you said no..so you nodded and his soft and warm lips kissed your own "I did all this because I love you..you love me too, right?" He asked, kissing you again

You just mindlessly nodded and riddle just started to cry tears of Joy "I'm sorry, my love.. I'm just..so happy to know you love me too.." riddle hugged you and picked you up

"Now let's get you cleaned up, my love..i don't want these waste of spaces blood on your perfect skin.."

IDIA

Idia wasn't used to his crushes actually liking him back..most thought he was creepy, a perv or just a shut-in.

But you liked him back! The prettiest and most caring girl he has ever seen!!

He can't afford to lose you, he needs you to stay. He is too anxious that you'll leave him for someone better than him..but..he's the best for you, right?

"Y-you're gonna stay with me, right?" He asked as his fingers were buried deep inside your pussy, you couldn't answer though. Idia stuffed your mouth to keep you from wailing.

Idia made a potion just for you~ making you unable to move unless he said so, isn't that great?! You won't be able to fight against his love for you.

Idia smiled at you and kissed your forehead "I know you will.. I'm the only person for you anyway.." his Fingers sped up and the wet squelching got louder. This was better than any hentai ever!

You wanted to slap yourself for liking the feeling of his slender fingers fucking you open for him.

Idia got closer to you and snuggled his face between your tits to Listen to your heartbeat "my lovely girlfriend~ ehehe~" he chuckled feeling your cunt spasm around his fingers.

Knowing you were about to cum he slid his fingers out, grinning at how you started crying from the empty feeling inside you "m-mhh..so cutee~" idias eyes switched from his dripping and sticky fingers to your pulsing cunt. He has never seen such a pretty sight.

"I'm gonna take you home..marry you..and impregnate you ehehee~!" He giggled with a crazy and horny look on his face. "Gonna impregnate you over and over again~" he kissed you but as you needily kissed him back he pulled away, giggling at you whining.

"Nuh-uh~ don't get so needy now~ wait 'till we're home!" He said in a fake embarrassed tone.

Idia hugged your trembling body again but then got lower and kissed your sensitive clit while holding onto your thighs "my girlfriend..you're all mine~"

"Mine, mine, mine!" He said between kissing all over your pussy

"My wife, my girl, mine!"

MALLEUS

It's malleus's natural instinct to protect and seal his most valuable treasures. That treasure being you, of course.

He doesn't tie you up though, he has no reason to. He knows you can't and won't flee his castle.

malleus would fall apart if you left him, his screams of pure agony could be heard everywhere..and as much as you want to leave and live a normal life again..you still loved malleus.

The horned man has dressed you up in a long, off-shoulder pink dress..the color always made you look so innocent..he loved that look in your eyes when he had you in a mating press, that dress all ripped apart and tears of pleasure streaming down your beautiful face..it was his favorite sight. Knowing that he, a big bad dragon, has captured and defiled this innocent princess makes him absolutely feral

Because thats what you are to him, a precious, innocent little princess..

"You can take more, right, my love?" He muttered softly in your ear before he kissed your cheek to then lick your tears away with his long and split tongue.

"N-nouuh- s-aah..full!" You babbled mindlessly

He loved it when you lost all of your clear thoughts, leaving nothing in your mind but him, him, him!

You only thought of malleus and his huge thick cocks both penetrating you, it was a wonderful feeling..for the both of you, it's like you were made for him! And you were, you were sent into this World for him..he is convinced that had to be it!

You are so perfect, it makes him want to desecrate you even more..he wants to breed you until you both die, you will bear all the Kids that he can give you. The thought of you being pregnant with his children drives him mad

"You can take more..you always do, my love..just..just take it for me..i know you want to."

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hyperfixationsporfavor · 6 months

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True Form Sukuna/Reader: A Moment in Time (Part 4- Fateful Warnings)

Author’s Note: Hello people! I’m back with a new chapter of this fic. It’s super short but I wanted to ease back into writing since it’s been awhile. I just started a new job so I apologize for the lack of updates. Hopefully I’ll be able to drop the next chapter sooner. Enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of blood, implied sex, referenced infidelity, sexism, Sukuna

“Recite it again,” Tengen instructed.

A young Ryomen Sukuna let out a sigh, holding the parchment in his hand closer to his face to make out the text in the dim candle light.

“When ending the life of a hostile sorcerer one must be wary that they will not come back as a curse, you must kill them with the usage of cursed energy.”

Tengen stood up from her spot behind the table to stare down at the unruly nineteen year old.

“Correct, so why did you fail to do so earlier?”

Sukuna tossed the parchment on the stack of other scrolls and leaned back with a shrug.

The instance she was speaking of had happened earlier that day. A curse user had been causing trouble in a small village up north, leading to the deaths of a few families. This is why they had personally reached out to Tengen in a plea of mercy, for the landowning lords could care less about the lives of a few peasants.

She had decided to send Sukuna in her place, noticing how restless he was becoming these days, only for her protege to carelessly allow him to bleed out.

“I had every intention of going back to finish the job,” he huffed.

She glared at him. “Yes you did, as soon as you got back from desecrating his wife.”

He brushed off the claims of infidelity with a wave of his hand.

“She invited me inside while the ugly bastard was out, believe me the little whore was singing my praises joyously.”

Tengen blew past his odious sentiments with contempt.

“Yes, only for her to meet her end when he returned as a vengeful curse to slice her throat.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes.

“I was there.”

“Which is precisely why I’m failing to see how you don’t grasp the severity of the situation!” she snapped.

“What situation?” he argued back. “I used cursed energy to exercise him. It’s over.”

“After a completely preventable loss of life.”

Sukuna crossed his arms. “Are you talking about the wife? She was warming the bed of a man you wanted me to kill. Who cares if she lived or died?”

“It’s not just that Ryomen, it’s the way you’ve been handling everything as of late. Aggressively doing the tasks I give you with little regard for the wellbeing of others, blatantly ignoring my teachings, disrespecting my writings. How am I to trust you as my successor?”

Yes, the original reason she had taken the then young boy into her home. Being a woman, even as powerful as she, could only get Tengen so far. So she had begun relying on the presence of a male figure to act as a stand in for her.

Played the part of Tengen while she operated from behind the curtain. Currently she had been using a fellow she had met decades ago by the name of Kenjaku, a person she had come to trust, but he was aging rapidly, feeling the affects of old age settling throughout his body.

So a replacement was necessary, and that’s where Ryomen Sukuna came in.

When she had first encountered him she had sensed a powerful presence, verging on becoming predatory. Despite Kenjaku’s protests she decided to take him on as a student, perhaps she could harness his cursed energy and make him useful.

But now, standing in front of him, Tengen was beginning to realize that not even she could control Ryomen Sukuna, and she feared a time would come when no one could.

Sukuna stood up, glaring at his instructor.

“I am not some puppet like that old bastard you have to keep around! And I’m tired of you holding me back!”

“Ryomen, your reckless actions will lead to your eventual downfall.”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “Are you threatening me?”

“No, I’m warning you. If you stray I will no longer be able to help you.”

He let out a bitter laugh and stormed out of the room, out of the house, out of Tengen’s life.

“I’ll never require your help.”

From then on Sukuna strived to grow stronger, and he did, evolving beyond a human body with an appetite that could only be appeased by the taste of human flesh. He lived how he wanted, ate when he wanted, and entertained only those who he found interesting. And at this current moment the one he found the most interesting, was you.

“Damn him! Damn him!” the lord of the house howled.

His personal physician worked quickly to stop the bleeding while he screamed in agony. The other residents and staff stood around him anxiously, waiting to see if he’d live through the hour.

The young servant boy was the only person whose mind was still on you and the terrified expression you wore as Sukuna had whisked you away. He trembled as he reluctantly approached one of the palace ladies who hovered next to the physician, the same one who had scolded you.

“My Lady,” he managed to force out. “What is to be done about (Name)?”

She peeled her attention away from the grotesque scene to face him. “Who?”

He blinked in disbelief. “The maid…scheduled for execution.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “What do you think you imbecile? Nothing. Her fate is sealed.”

The palace lady turned her attention to one of the noblewomen next to her.

“Better a low status maid than one of us.”

“You!” the physician called.

The servant boy looked up to find it was him who he was speaking to.

“More rags. Go now.”

The End.

#sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #true form sukuna #ao3 fanfic #hyperfixationsporfavor

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4izawas · 2 years

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— 𝐢’𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 ; 𝐳𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢, 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 !! — it had been a long time since the dragon king had seen a human so beautiful that they caught his eye, but two within a month? yes, zhongli had to consider himself more than lucky.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 !! — zhongli/f!reader, childe/f!reader, zhongli/childe.

𝐰𝐜 !! — 8.05k.

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 !! — nsfw ; minors dni.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 !! — dark content (kidnapping, dubcon ), bondage, pet names ( pet ), dragon!zhongli, anal sex, vaginal sex, crying, biting, licking, wrestling ( sexual ), mild predator/prey play, scratching, mxm, mxf, fxmxm, slapping, blowjob, gagging, choking, cum swallowing, creampie, breeding kink, begging, pheromone aphrodisiacs, overstimulation, dragon cock!zhongli, mentions of rut season, mentions of egg laying, zhongli doesn’t know how human reproductive systems work, mentions of hibernation.

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

A cool wind blew into the mouth of the vast cavern that Zhongli called home, and he rumbled lowly in appreciation as it rolled over his overheated body. Living in a volcano was the best case scenario for any beast of his species, and as the king of his territory he was more than well off when it came to dens, but sometimes the heat was just too much, even for him. Coupled with the fierce feeling of loneliness he’d had since he’d woken up from his twenty year hibernation a month ago more or less kept him restless and uncomfortable in both the cavern and his mind.

Perhaps a flight would soothe me, he thinks quietly, and he slowly begins to push himself to his feet. Despite his monumental size, his head still doesn’t near the ceiling of his cave, and he absentmindedly gets a rush of pride; he’d picked a good den when he’d finally finished leading the seventy or so dragons to this vast continent from the one that mortals had destroyed across the sea. That had been a few hundred years ago, and the others had all gone their separate ways with the intent of finding homes of their own. Those that had mated with one another over the course of the long journey shared dens, but most who mated after the fact that had found mates of other species either did or didn’t.

His massive wings stir up ash beneath him as he takes off, and the wind beats against his face in a way he’d found pleasant for years; the feeling of the batterringly cold breeze against scales heated by the volcanic cave he called home was always soothing. His eyes close as he glides high above the treeline; he knew this land like he knew his own scales, so he ran no risk of crashing like a hatchling taking their first flight.

His eyes shoot open in surprise as a woman’s voice, soft and lilting with an accent he hardly recognized, reached his ears after being carried his way by the breeze; turning away from his intended flight pattern, he dutifully follows it, staring down with his eyes roving over the softly distant ground below him in search of the source. After ten or so minutes of rapid flight, he soars over a small lake and discovers a beautiful village woman singing to a small group of three glaze lilies that had grown alongside each other on the bank of the lake.

Enamoured by the sound of her voice and the sight of her beauty, Zhongli’s eyes glow a sudden gold, and a surge of desire fills his massive form so suddenly that he doesn’t even notice the singing stop or the woman looking up at him once the sun is blocked out by the massive shadow of his body. She was absolutely beautiful, her hair braided so nicely and her figure slightly on display due to her peasant’s clothes… He wanted her, he had to have her — there would be no excuse should he just leave her here! Besides, she’d be better off with him anyway, safe and warm, her stomach always full…

He doesn’t even realize that he’s dove down and snatched her up like a bird of prey does to a field rat until her screams of fear shake him from his lustful stupor. He’s snatched her up in one clawed hand that’s bigger than her body, and she’s wailing and sobbing and struggling to escape his grip, her hands pushing at his sharp claws in a fruitless attempt to get him off of her. Concerned that her hand will slip and she’s accidentally cut herself badly on the sharp edge of his claws, he carefully tightens his grip, cutting off her panicked screams with a pained wheeze. Guilt fills him for but a moment before leaving his mind, because obviously this was for her own good, and a little pain never killed anyone, it just put things into perspective.

“Stop struggling, jewel — you won’t escape my grip, you’ only hurt yourself,” he growls lowly, and with a hiccuped sob she goes limp in his grasp. Regardless, he doesn’t let up his grip on her until he reaches his den when he lands at the top of the largest mountain that, by the sharp inhalefrom the village woman, was the largest she’d ever seen. It’s circled by active volcanoes spewing up surge after surge of lava than scalds the ground it rolls across before flowing into a vast lake of the same stuff that encircled the entire area; there is no plant life to be seen anywhere, all of it destroyed by the heat and fiery conditions, and as she’s takig it all in the air in her lungs is forced out as he drops her down onto the ground outside a vast cave entrance.

It takes a moment for her to catch her breath, her heart racing as she gasps for air, but once she gets it back she leaps to her feet and tries to run, letting out a shriek when she nearly falls off the side of the mountain. There’s nowhere for her to go, and the wicked beast behind her just noses his new pet closer to the nearby cave until finally she’s pushed inside, screaming all the while and crying. She scrambles away once he stands back up at halfway to his full height, trying to figure out how to navigate the cave when she didn’t even know where exactly she was.

Mountainous heaps of gold and jewels, silver and crystals — the smallest being taller than she is — fill the room, and she rushes to hide behind one of them, her entire body shaking and tears of fear running down her cheeks.

“Come now, little treasure, don’t hide where I cannot see you,” Zhongli purrs softly, his eyes locked on the crystal she was behind. “It does you no good to hide when your scent fills my senses — I can already taste you on my tongue.”

A shrill wail follows his words, and Zhongli chuckles softly to himself when he realizes how what he’d said sounded; he had no intentions to eat his newest prize, she was far too beautiful to be rid of so quickly. With a deep yawn he stretches once, twice, then lays down at the entrance, forcing himself to ignore the sounds of her crying while thinking to himself that she’d get over it soon.

Contrary to his expectations, she does not get over it. Not soon, and not at all.

In fact, a month or so later, she’s even worse off, and it’s worrying him. She’s refusing to eat, hasn’t bathed on her own without him carefully cleaning her tiny body himself, and is completely depressed. His rumbled urges for her to take care of herself go either unanswered because of choice, or because she’s beyond terrified. Even when he hunts for her, sure that she won’t try to escape due to high up they were on the volcano, and drops his catches before her, she refuses him. The various animals he hunts for her specially get tears and trembling bottom lips as she just shakes her head, tears rolling down her cheeks at the sight of the bloody chunks of flesh awaiting her. Scorching them with his flames only makes her scream in fear from the heat, and she refuses to go near the charred meat he offered up — and it’s straining Zhongli’s last nerve.

“YOU NEED TO EAT!” he roars on the sixth day of her refusing food in a row, unable to hold himself back. “IF YOU DON’T EAT, YOU DIE, AND I DON’T WISH TO THROW YOUR LIMP CORPSE FROM THE MOUNTAINTOP!” The strength of his voice shakes the walls and makes his already trembling treasure burst into tears. The salty liquid he’s licked off her cheeks more than once in the past few months that he's had her glitters prettily in the light from the cave entrance, and he lets out a snarl of frustration that makes her cover her jewel-like eyes and sob into her hands, whimpering about him ‘eating her’ that made him yell, “I’M NOT GOING TO EAT YOU, YOU STUPID GIRL!”

With another stray snarl he storms out of the cave and takes flight, the sounds of her crying slowly getting farther and farther away the further he flies from the den. The entire time he’s shaking his head violently and growling, furious that she refused to understand him. Were all humans like this, or had he just picked one who was far too simple of mind? All he truly knew of her was her looks and her voice, it wasn’t as if he’d quizzed her on the wonders of the cosmos before bringing her home — but there was no way he’d made a mistake, she just wasn’t used to him yet. Then again, she’d never be able to if she refused to eat like she had been for the past week.

The majority of his thoughts run this way, to the point of him not noticing just how far he’s flown into the Coldlands until the snow falling onto his nose startles him mid-flight. Looking around, he pauses; even at top speeds, reaching the Coldlands takes at least a full day of constant flight should he take no rests… had he truly been so caught up in his thoughts that he’d flown this far?

His golden eyes peer around the land blanketed in white; as one would surmise from the title ‘Coldlands’, the air was colder than he was comfortable with and the muscles beneath his hide twitch at the prickly feeling of the temperature setting into his body. It was triggering his senses for later in the year, the thoughts of hibernation that were far in his mind were now slowly tickling at the corners of it — unlike the dragon that claimed these lands, The Tsaritsa, he was not built for the cold. He wasn’t even built for the heat; the only reason he could stand the heat from the volcanoes was because that was all molten rock, and he was most comfortable surrounded by the earth.

Soft crunching reaches his ears somewhere to the east, and he rapidly focuses on that should it be some sort of predator ( though few could ever manage to bring down a dragon of all creatures, he wouldn’t doubt some would try ). He discovers it’s somewhere in the slightly distant forest, and with one side of his brow raised in curiosity he flies over, as quiet as death during sleep.

He lands carefully just outside the small smattering of trees, large to a human but small to a dragon of his size ( then again, he was the largest considering he was the oldest and dragons never stopped growing ), and looks around curiously before the small crunch-crunch! of footsteps on snow reaches his ears again. Zeroing in on it, his eyes lock on a small human figure — clad in a heavy fur coat with a hood over his face, and much larger than his treasure back at the den, but still so, so small. His eyes follow it almost predatorily, watching as it gather various nuts and things in a basket over its shoulder ( though Zhongli wondered what on earth he could possibly be gathering, since little grew in the Coldlands this time of year — the Tsaritsa herself had complained the lack of food that came with her territory to him when they’d met up around fifty years ago, and he’d hunted her a rather sizeable amount of flesh to take home with her, which had put him in her good graces. She still called for him to visit her sometime; maybe he should today? ). Looking into the basket, Zhongli did make note that it was mostly empty, a few groundnuts rattling around in there along with some mint and three sweet flowers that were half-wilted; it really was a pathetic little catch.

The sudden movement of the man drawing a bow he’d had over his other shoulder and aiming it against the base of a distant tree had Zhongli glancing over to it; a snow hare was snuffling around at the tree’s base, no doubt also scavenging for food. A sudden thump and the arrow hitting the tree just above the hare’s head and in between it’s ears send it racing off into the white plain. The human who had tried to capture it lets out a shrill whine of a groan and mumbles something to itself, pulling off its hood to get cool air to its no doubt now frustration-heated neck and ears.

Zhongli’s pupils dilate at the sight before him. The human had pulled down his hood to show him reddish-orange hair, which was fine, but he had turned and looked around tiredly to reveal a beautiful face with glittering blue jewels for eyes. His cheeks were pinkened from the cold, and soft puffs of steam filled the air from between his lips whenever he breathed. Zhongli watched him, his own breathing shaky, and as the man tried to decide what to do, Zhongli came to his own decision.

This human would join his precious treasure back at the den, whether he liked it or not; maybe with human companionship she’d have the urge to eat something — and it wasn’t like this human was ugly! No, he’d be a fine addition to his collection of jewels back home. He’d send the Tsaritsa an apologetic kill for stealing one of her subjects later.

Still, he waited patiently, never taking his eyes off the human man until finally, finally the man stepped out from the woods, which is when he took off and glided over. The shadow overtaking the man on the white tundra made him turn back for a moment to look up, and with a startled scream at the sight of Zhongli flying directly in his direction he starts sprinting back to the trees. Zhongli reaches a clawed fist out and makes a try at grabbing him, only just missing when the human makes it back into the trees.

Following along with the scared human’s running form, Zhongli figures where that he will try to make his escape from and leaps over to it. “Little gemstone, surely you don’t think you can hide from me in there?” Zhongli purrs lowly, locking eyes with him. The man shrieks again and falls backwards onto his ass, throwing a fistful of powdery snow into his face before scrambling away. Zhongli just chuckles, shaking the powder from his nose before walking over to cut off the human’s other means of escape. “Come now, you know your resistance is futile — just come to me, precious, it won’t hurt.”

“FUCK OFF!” the man screams, but this time he doesn’t run fast enough to escape Zhongli when he reaches one fistful of claws his way, and he’s scooped up rather quickly. Holding tight to his prize and drawing the man back to cradle him against his chest, Zhongli watches through an amused gaze as the human tries his hardest to throw himself from his grip despite knowing that he was so high up he’d break bones — and Zhongli hadn’t even taken off yet.

A loud, earth-shaking thud sounds behind him as a creature of a similar size to himself lands behind him, and Zhongli tears his gaze from the human and looks straight forward, listening carefully. His muscles are tensed and he’s ready to defend himself and his newest little pet if necessary, but the sound of familiar steps have him relaxing.

“I was wondering when you’d come to visit me, Morax,” a smooth, enchantingly feminine voice murmurs behind him. He grins softly, baring his teeth in a way that makes the human screech again and try harder to escape his grip.

Zhongli turns around, still smiling and carefully holding his pet. “Ah, Tsaritsa — it’s been quite a few seasons, hasn’t it?”

The lighter toned dragoness ( every dragon was lighter than his black and gold frame, though ) behind him grins just as brightly and nods, a wicked glint in her eye as she takes notice of the struggling human in his grasp. “Ah, Morax — you’ve captured one of my devotees, I see.”

Zhongli looks down at the human, whose chest is heaving with the exertion of fighting off the touches of a being so much bigger than him. It seemed he was listening closely to the crooning voice of the Tsaritsa, most likely expecting her to save him.

She would not.

“His name?” Zhongli asks, running one claw over his hair absentmindedly.

“Ajax, though I renamed him Tartaglia when he came into my service amd he works under the name Childe. What business do you have with him?”

He begans speaking. “I took on a life mate earlier this year—“

“Congratulations!” The Tsaritsa interrupted, looking surprised.

Zhongli nodded appreciatively. “Thank you. She’s mortal, though, and I'm afraid she’s been so nervous and afraid after moving into my territory that she can't bring herself to do much of anything. We got into an argument, however one-sided, and it seems I flew through the lands where our territory overlaps and ended up passing through your tundra,” he explains, noting that the Tsaritsa didn’t seem upset in the slightest ( and looked rather interested ). “I spotted this human, Childe, while passing through and watched him for a bit, intending on leaving once I was done — but then I truly laid eyes on him and was positively enraptured. I decided I would have to take him home with me — after all, he is not only beautiful, but perhaps he could also raise my mate’s spirits, you know?”

The Tsaritsa hums thoughtfully. “Hmm, you may be right… but then again, you’d be taking one of my closest devotees away from me…” Childe looked hopeful for a second, wide eyed and silently pleading in the direction of the Tsaritsa as she thought it over. His hopes were crushed when she shrugged. “You know what? It’s fine with me.”

“No!” he wails, “Please, Your Majesty—!”, but he is ignored as she continues speaking.

“I have many servants, and you’ve been good to me Morax — you may have him. There will be no need for return gifts, either.” Her voice is simple as she looks over her claws, clear and glittering like the finest ice as Childe struggles even harder to escape Zhongli’s hold.

Zhongli chuckles. “Unfortunately, you could not stop me from sending you something in return — I will send you some fine pieces from my personal hoard in thanks.”

The Tsaritsa’s eyes glitter sharply at the phrase ‘personal hoard’, and she dips her head in acknowledgement. “In that case, thank you very much. Would you like me to fly with you back to the border?”

“I assure you I know the way, but I wouldn’t be opposed to company should you have no other duties to attend to,” Zhongli replies warmly, and she grins again. Her fangs are longer, Zhongli notes absently, and her bite looks even more dangerous than before. It’s a good look for her.

“Then let us go — You have quite the distance to fly, after all.”

The entire return flight to Zhongli’s territory Childe is fighting against his grip, kicking and screaming and making such a fuss that for a moment ( just a single one! ) Zhongli wonders if this small human was even worth it. The journey to the den took longer than the journey away had due to the ferocity of his struggles, even accidentally dropping him as he struggled out of his grip. Zhongli let Childe fall around a hundred feet before diving after him and catching him again as he fell screaming through the air. Childe was much more still after that, and an hour later Zhongli has finally made it back to the den. He’s pleased to see that, instead of a rotted carcass, bones of the creature he’d ‘cooked’ for her are licked clean and she’s waiting for him. The thin skirt that he’d fashioned for hee out of shed hide whipped around in the wind, and he could see tears in her eyes as he landed.

He plops Childe down in front of her, the man landing with a grunt on his ass ( yet again ) as he’s winded from the short fall, and they just look at each other in surprise. Y/N’s eyes sparkle with unshed tears, and Childe doesn’t look away from her figure as he tries to catch his breath again. His eyes rove over her body, her half bared breasts in the hide top Zhongli had fashioned her to go with the long skirt, her feet bare and hair loose, her bottom lip trembling and tears running down her cheeks.

Shaking himself from the stupor he’d fallen i to at the sight of the captive woman before him, Child regains his senses and whirls around to stand protectively in front of her while yelling at Zhongli. “LET US BOTH GO AND TAKE ME BACK TO THE COLDLANDS, YOU MONSTER!” Zhongli just rumbles out a laugh, more than amused at the spectacle before him.

While the dragon is distracted, Childe looks around frantically for a place he can escape to and, while doing so, locks eyes with Y/N again. He can feel himself begin to get lost in the depths of her gaze, as he’s absolutely captivated by her, but he shakes his head to clear it again. He runs to her and grabs her hand before yanking her away to hide amongst the gold, their feet slapping against the heated ground beneath them as he leads them away from the beast at the opening to the cave.

Zhongli doesn’t mind and lets Childe get away with yelling at him, letting them both run deeper inside the den. He knows that there’s no way for them to escape unless they went through the only entrance while he slept, and even then he’d wake up before they got far enough for it to actually matter. He lays down slowly; in the distance, further in the cave, he can hear Childe sweetly comforting Y/N. He was asking her questions while telling her that everything would be alright and no doubt holding her close, and Zhongli smiles at the fact that his pets are getting along. Taking Childe from the Tsaritsa’s territory had been the perfect idea! He slowly eases into a light, light sleep, dozing off to the sounds of Y/N actually talking to her new companion, and a smile flicks up the corners of his mouth and ever so slightly reveals his teeth.

This was perfect.

“Are you sure we can do this?” Y/N asks quietly, playing with the sleeve of Ajax’s long coat. He’d long taken it off, right after introducing himself to her actually, and he’d told her it was more than okay to touch it when she’d pensively asked; she’d not let it go since.

Ajax paces before the spot where she’s knelt with his coat over her lap, trying to figure out the best course of action. His gut is telling him not to do this, but his brain is arguing against it — and Ajax prides himself on his quick thinking, so he listens to his head. They needed to escape, end of story — and he’d make sure they did.

“Y-Yeah — we can do it,, Y/N — and I mean no offense, I promise, but I’m not gonna sit on my ass in this cave and wait for him to eat us,” Ajax replies, voice earnest.

Y/N sighs. “He — He won’t eat us, I don’t think,” she admits quietly, and Ajax turns to look at her in confusion. “I’ve been here for months now, and he told me two days before he came back with you that he wasn’t going to eat me.”

“Then what else could he possibly want from us?” Ajax asks, sounding urgent. Y/N just trembles a little when Zhongli lets out a snore at the cave entrance then shrugs.

“I don’t know,” she admits, but Ajax isn’t paying attention. No, he’s peeking around a heap of gold at the titanic form of Zhongli at the entrance, watching the way the shoulder and back of the beast rise and fall with each inhale and exhale. Once he was certain that the monster was asleep, he turned back to Y/N and extended one of his work-roughened hands.

“C’mon, he’s asleep — now’s our chance,” he says urgently, but she doesn’t look so sure.

“I don’t think we should,” she murmurs, but he just grabs her wrist gently and pulls her up. She doesn’t let go of his winter coat, which he appreciates; he didn’t want to leave it behind.

“We have to,” he says sternly, before leading the way and tugging her along — then he pauses. “You’re barefoot,” he says, and she nods. Sighing, he carefully balances himself on one leg while he pulls off one shoe, then does the same with the other before handing them to her. “Put those on, the ground’s gonna be hot.”

“But what about you?” she asks weakly, and he just smiles boyishly at her.

“I’ll manage,” he says, sounding so sure of himself. He begins leading the way once again, and as they approach the dragon, Y/N could almost swear he was awake — she just couldn’t prove it.

And unfortunately, he was.

Just as he’d expected, they try to escape while he sleeps. Zhongli wakes to the sight of Childe hurrying towards the exit, his hand tight around Y/N’s wrist as he tugs her along behind him insistently. She’s slowed down a little because she’s wearing his too-big shoes ( apparently Zhongli’s little gemstone had given his pair to her since he noticed she’d been barefoot, something that warmed him up inside ). After such a long journey to fetch Y/N company, though, Zhongli was too tired for this, though, and didn’t feel like yelling so he groggily slaps a clawed down on top of them both. The sudden strike doesn’t hurt them in the slightest, though, and they scream in unison since they’d thought he was asleep. Zhongli ignores this and just sleepily wraps his hand around their bodies and pulls them close to his chest before falling back asleep, and this time there’s no way for them to run.

No, all they can do is listen to the skull-shaking thump-thump! of his enormous heartbeat next to their shaking bodies and hold each other.

The next day Childe talks to Y/N again, and he tells her that from then on out they’d need to wait until they felt like they couldn’t anymore. After being caught like that, the monster that held them captive would definitely expect them to run again, so they lay low for a long while. He just urges her to eat and build up her strength so she’d be able to keep running once they got down from this gods-forsaken volcano.

Zhongli does in fact suspect that they are planning to run away, which is why he keeps a close eye on them both, which how he learns Childe has been sweetly convincing Y/N to eat by hand-feeding her cooked bits of whatever Zhongli brought them back from hunts. Slowly but surely he begins taking longer and longer flights out, leaving his living treasures back in the den and allowing them to entertain themselves. Quietly he preens over how good an idea it was to fetch Childe; along with the human man convincing Zhongli’s little treasure to eat, he helps her keep a strict bathing schedule ( they do so together, even! ), lets her cling to him at night to sleep, and makes sure she’s always well-rested and healthy, and it makes him more than pleased.

But as always, good things do tend to come to an end.

Over the past few months Zhongli had been beyond pleased with their behavior — they even allowed him to lay nearby the hot spring that he took them to and watch them bathe ( human bodies were ever so curious looking ), which was more than a win in his book. Because they’d given him this clear sign of trust ( or so he thought ), he was more than willing to trust them in return — which was why he told them that he was going to be gone for a few days to go see the Tsaritsa as he’d promised.

After all this beautiful behavior paired with the long months they’d been together made Zhongli more than comfortable leaving them there alone, which was why when he returned because he’d forgotten a gift and found them halfway out of the den in a new escape attempt he’d been furious. Once they’d been discovered, Childe had thrown a massive stone his way, and when it had slammed into his eye almost painfully that had been the final straw. Enraged, he’d dove down, scooped them both up, and practically thrown them back in the den, not caring about whether it hurt them or not and roaring at them all the while. The two humans do indeed get a little scraped up, but considering he could have killed them they count it as good luck.

Zhongli stalks towards them angrily, fangs bared and claws sparking against stone, and Childe once again grabs Y/N by the hand and drags her through the endless piles of treasure that Zhongli had collected over the centuries, finally stumbling upon a crevice in the stone wall that there was no possible way for Zhongli — as massive as his frame was — to fit through.

He advances on their hiding place regardless, scales around his crotch, neck, and wrists practically vibrating as they assault glands beneath the hard plating and expel an invisible, earthy-smelling mist through the den with the intent of his treasures breathing it in; this pitiful display of stubborness had gone on too long, and he was beyond sick of this repetitive behavior.

As he paces around in front of their little crevice, Childe and Y/N hide in there and hold one another close, both shaking at the sound of roaring and snarling and the sight of massive feet pacing outside. Their noses itch as the air becomes noticeably thicker and their heads begin to feel like they’re filled with cotton, but they ignore it in favor of screaming in fear when the dragon that held them captive dips a razor sharp claw inside to fruitlessly scratch at them. Sparks fly off the hardened magma as the claw slides across it before withdrawing, and the sounds of what seems like leather ripping and bones snapping echoes through the cave outside, what looks like blood dripping down slightly through the opening.

Y/N lets out a startled cry when a strange looking handsome man appears and forces his way inside, his golden eyes flashing with a fury unmatched, and grabs them both by their shoulders, dragging them from the crevice and throwing them down on the ground at his feet. Childe, stunned from being thrown, doesn’t notice the fangs revealed as the handsome man throws a snarl their way, but Y/N does, and it makes her shriek again.

Zhongli grabs Y/N by the wrists, wrapping beautiful golden chains around them and binding her before casting her aside and doing the same to a still shocked Childe, whose head is still spinning from when it cracked slightly against the inside of the crevice as he was forced out. Unlike with Y/N, a weighty golden collar and an attached leash of the same golden chains as were wrapped around their wrists clicks shut around his neck as Zhongli speaks. “You know, I tried my best to do right by the two of you. I tried so hard — but you still chose to fight me. Why? Why, when I’ve shared with you more riches than any mortal man will ever know and have granted you safety beyond your wildest measures?” The man’s voice is a smooth, velvety croon despite the anger sparking in his eyes, and he continues, “I didn’t want to resort to something as… primitive as this, you know, but I’m going to — and you can only blame yourselves. My patience can only run so thin before it snaps.”

The air grows thick again, this time even more so than before, and Y/N’s head begins to feel fuzzy. Her pussy clenches around nothing as an unusual heat settles in her abdomen, and she lets out a soft whimper as she rolls her hips against nothing but the empty air.

Childe isn’t doing much better; he’d only just gotten his wits about him again when his cock began to harden in his pants, his hips twitching up slightly as it strains against his pants buttons. He was so hard it was almost painful, and no matter how much he clenched his thighs the stiffness didn’t abate. he needed something, but he just didn’t know what.

Both of them are so wrapped up in their own arousal that they don’t notice Zhongli’s own, the beast-turned-man’s massive cock lifting the loincloth that had been hiding his crotch — and judging from the size of of the bulge, it isn’t a normal cock. Gasping and drooling slightly as he approaches them, the two gemstones he’d added to his collection struggle with their arousal, too focused on themselves to notice the sound of Zhongli ripping his loincloth away to reveal his lengthy cock, a longer than average thick thing with scales at the base that were a shining mixture of black and gold with only a few smatterings of red that faded up his length and gave way to human flesh.

He stands with his legs spread before Childe and yanks the chain leash, jerking Childe up into a kneeling position. His cock slaps the human man across the cheek and leaves a soft wet patch of precum there, and before Childe even knows what he’s doing he has a good several inches of the monstrous thing in his mouth, slobber dripping down the length of it as well as his chin.

Snapping his fingers, Zhongli calls Y/N over, and she crawls on her hands and knees before listening aptly when the dragon king rumbles, “Worship your god,” and sucking his hefty balls in her mouth, sucking and nipping at them greedily until she finally sidles up to kneel next to Childe, who pulls off the cock for a second to breathe only to let out a complaining whine when she sucks Zhongli’s tip into her mouth. He pushes her away and she responds in kind, the two of them going back and forth before Zhongli discards the chain leash and fists a hand around a good amount of both of their hair and pushes their head back down to his cock at the same time, his displeasure made known through a low growl.

Shivering and clenching their thighs, they kneel next to one another, each running their mouth up and down one side of his massive cock, their tongues curling around the heated flesh and their misty eyes shining up at him as he moans appreciatively at the proper behaviour. Thrusting up into their hot tongues, he succeeds in sinking his cock into Childe’s mouth. The ginger man gags and whimpers, but his complaints go ignored as Zhongli basks in the feelings his mouth was giving him and forces the human man further down onto his length. His cock penetrates Childe’s throat and has him moaning around it, the human’s nails scratching at Zhongli’s thighs as he rests with his cock all the way down his throat, before he slowly pulls out then begins thrusting into the wet heat. Childe chokes around Zhongli’s thickness, gagging as it bullies its way down his throat and whining when the heavy balls at the end of it slap his chin hard. With the speed the dragon was going, there was no doubt Childe’s throat and chin would be bruised come tomorrow.

“Hnghh — So good, Childe, so hot ‘nd tight for me,” Zhongli groans. Tears spring up in Childe’s eyes at the abuse on his throat, but Zhongli doesn’t give a damn — the dragon can feel his balls tightening, can feel the knot that had been growing in his abdomen under the touches of his beautiful little pets about to snap, so he doesn’t stop fucking Childe’s face — even despite the way the man was grabbing at his ass and scratching him in desperation for air — until he’s finally, finally cumming, and a pleased roar leaves his lips and echoes through the cave. Gods, he’s waited months for pleasure like this — and it was more than worth the wait.

Childe chokes again on the hot cum being forced down his throat even as Zhongli pulls out, so much of the thick cream being shot down his throat that it pleasantly fills his stomach, giving the man a soft little roundness that’s barely noticeable to the human eye but more than pleasing to the dragon that put it there.

Leaving Childe to gasp for the air he’d been denied, Zhongli turns to a whimpering Y/N, who was rubbing at her pussy through her panties needily. He rips them away, eyeing the slick cunt the cloth being torn away revealed before circling his thumb around her swollen clit just enough so that when her pussy clenches again it forces even more of her precious slickness to bubble out of her, dripping down the rest of her slit and coating her thighs and ass in it.

His eyes flashing, he climbs up the length of her body before pressing his length against her entrance, ignoring her whimpers and cries that it’s, “T-Too big! It won’ fit — too big!”, in favor of pressing inside all the same.

“It’ll fit — it has to if I’m gonna breed this soft cunt,” he growls, then watches greedily as her eyes roll back at the feeling of his thick cock forcing its way inside her tight, plump pussy, which tightened around him for a moment in an attempt to get used to the sudden stretch he’d forced upon it.

He pulls out slowly before pushing back inside, growling lowly at the feeling of her gummy walls stroking his length before he begins hammering his cock into her cruelly, his eyes wicked and teeth flashing in the faint light of the den, saliva dripping from his fangs and dripping down her bouncing breasts. Leaning back, he rears a hand back and slaps her across the face before gripping her by the chin and staring into her sexdrunk eyes. “You keep those pretty fuckin’ eyes on me while I fuck you stupid,” he growls. He can’t fit his entire length in her pussy, so his balls don’t slap against her ass like he wanted to feel, but that doesn’t stop him from fucking her until she’s limp and shaking, cream oozing out around his cock to form a frothy, milky-white ring around his cock where he couldn’t force any more in.

“Oh — yes, my love, so good — you’re being s-so good for me,” he moans, the muscles in his ass clenching with every thrust and the feeling of her long nails digging into his back spurring him on. “F-Fuck, treasure—!”

She’s wailing for him, begging for more, and he can’t resist the urge to bite down on her shoulder mid thrust, ushering a shrill scream to fall from her lips and a sudden orgasm to overtake her body as blood begins to drip down her arm. He releases her shoulder and cums again with a second roar, his hot cum filling her up so much that it’s forcing itself out around his cock and soaking both of their thighs.

Her chest heaves in exertion as he pulls himself out quickly and watches with dilated pupils as his cum comes pouring out of her swollen, abused cunt, drool threatening to drip down his chin at the sight of her clenching pussy forcing out more of his cream. He can hear Childe whimpering behind them and the sounds of the human desperately fisting his cock at the sight of them fucking, but whining when he can’t find release on his own. He ignores it, however, in favor of using two clawed fingers to carefully push his cum back inside her, only to watch it all drip out all over again. He grins at the sight, licking his lips, and finally turns back to Childe. His pupils dilate further at the sight of how quick his fist stroked up and down the length of his cock, but when Zhongli went over to him to help him out, Childe pushed him away. Pausig and tilting his head to the side in surprise, Zhongli raised an eyebrow, then tried again, only to be met with the same result — so he pushed forward unrelented, churring happily when Childe began wrestling with him while rolling his hips and grinding his cock against Zhongli’s muscled thigh. Childe was playing with him!

He growls appreciatively, grinning down at him as the struggle between them continues until Zhongli ‘manages’ to flip Childe over so he’s presenting his plump ass to him, his ass is in the air and his legs slightly spread as Zhongli spreads his asscheeks with. orh thumbs and runs his tongue up from between Childe’s taut balls along his asshole, swirling the spit-slick appendage around it before carefully pushing it inside and starting to tongue childe’s asshole open, the long non-human appendage swirling around viciously in the man’s insides and making him shriek and writhe in pleasure at the feeling of the rough forked length stretching him out and toying with such a hidden place.

Two fingers, clawed but careful, slide into him alongside Zhongli’s tongue and begin stretching him even more, the dragon not wanting to rip up his toy with the pretty pink cock unless Childe asked for it. The human had to be prepared to take him if he wanted to stuff all eleven inches of his cock inside and breed him until his stomach was that much rounder; Y/N was still regaining her own strength after their earlier romp, so Childe could certainly have all of his attention for the time being.

Scissoring his fingers deep inside, Zhongli watched with lust darkened eyes as Childe moans and pleads beneath him, bagging for more and pushing his ass back into the dragon king’s touch.

“Please — please, fuck-!” he whines, his entire body shaking, and Zhonli removes his fingers from Childe’s already sensitive hole with a loud, wet shhlk!, his own saliva clinging to his fingertips and connecting them to the quivering entrance before him for just a moment before snapping. Zhongli props himself up on his knees behind the ginger haired human, running both hands across the globes of his ass before squeezing each cheek twice; his hand releases one cheek, trailing down his own body before gripping his cock at the base. He slaps it against Childe’s twitching hole, grinning wickedly at the whimpers the man let out before he carefully lined himself up and began applying pressure carefully. It takes a second ( and several whines from Childe ), but eventually his thick length pops into the tight entrance. He groans lowly, his hands flying back down to Childe’s hips as he sits there for a second and soaks in the warmth, then gently pulls out. It takes a second, but before long only his tip remains inside the hot, quivering hole before him, and he can’t hold himself back from fucking into it aggressively.

His balls slap harshly against Childe’s pale ass, heavy and full of cum that he was more than ready to pump the human man full of. Childe was crying out and moaning beneath him, letting out loud, “Ah — Ah — Ah!”s with each thrust, his noises picking up the pace whenever Zhongli did the same with his thrusts. The man from the Coldlands was anything but on the inside, burning hot and so slick thanks to Zhongli’s saliva, and he took all of him so well…

Cum spurts out of Childe’s smaller cock in several quick, sudden ropes, puddling messily on the cooled magma floor beneath him. Zhongli doesn’t stop fucking into him, set on filling him up as he pleases, and Childe lets out a shrill cry at the overstimulated feelings taking over his body; the dragon’s fat cockhead was beating against his swollen prostate relentlessly, not granting him a single moment’s reprieve, and as his arms gave out beneath him and his ass remained in the air, Childe watched through tear-filled eyes as the bulge in his abdomen appeared and disappeared repeatedly.

Childe’s screaming at the top of his lungs from the overdrimulation, thinner spurts of cum making their way oht of his poor cock as Zhobgli fucks him like a rabid beast. His throat feels beyond raw and black dot’s swim in the corners of his vision as he cums a third time, and when Zhongli doesn’t show any signs of stopping he whimpers desperately, “Please, no more — I can’t cum again, if I cum again I’ll die!”

Zhongli ignores him, instead reaching over and dragging Y/N over to him by the leg. He plays with her sloppy, used, sensitive cunt with one hand, slapping it hard twice so he can hear her scream, as Childe goes completely limp beneath him; it seems that the dragon has fucked him so good that he’s fallen unconscious.

Fresh cum shoots from the tip of Childe’s cock even in unconsciousness, and Y/N wails as Zhongli brings her to two orgasms within a few minutes of each other with just his fingers alone. His cum still dribbles from her sore cunt as her body shakes violently in orgasm, tears springing up in her eyes and rolling down her cheeks until she too is completely limp, more of his cum oozing out of her. The sight of his seed making a reappearance is what sends Shongli over the edge the final time, and his claws prick deep into a still unconscious Childe’s hips as he cums hard. His thick seed floods Childe’s guts, making the man whimper into the inky blackness of his lack of vision as Zhongli pumps him as full as he had Y/N.

Dragging Childe over to Y/N and letting him plop down on top of her with the human man’s face in her tits and Y/N’s back on a glittering pile of gold — which was no doubt uncomfortable, but it wasn’t as if they were aware of it as Zhongli’s cum bubbled out of both of their used holes. They rest there together easily due to their exhaustion as Zhongli pulls some silks and furs together to form a makeshift nest, which he finishes all while thinking, Hmm, my rut is to start soon — I’ll have to break them in before then or they’ll die… or maybe the job is already done?, then proceeds to carry them both to it. He’d never allowed them in this area of the cave before, but it’s a good thing he’s got a head start on setting his little mates up for egg laying season with this early breeding. If he’d been successful, he wouldn’t be going into rut at all — and maybe he’ll even have hatchlings to wake up to after his upcoming hibernation. After all, with them both so swollen with his seed and dripping with it, there was no doubt in his mind that they’d surely both be carrying a clutch each within a few weeks, a thought that filled him with a pleasant warmth; now that he had his little mates safely secured and filled to the brim, he was beyond glad that he’d held out on breeding through season after season.

Yawning loudly, Zhongli settles himself between his two little mates and closes his eyes, a purr rumbling up in his throat. Yes, picking them both up during flights was the perfect plan after all.

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐭𝐰𝐨, 𝐨𝐜𝐭. 𝟗 ; 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 } 𝐛𝐲 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐀. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

#zhongli x reader #childe x reader #morax x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #rex lapis x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x you #childe x you #morax x you #tartaglia x you #genshin impact x you #kinktober22.neptune #deep ocean.🦑

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elegantwoes · 1 year

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LMAO you have just completely lost the plot. That's so embarrassing. What is Sansa DOING in the Vale ?? It’s about to be book 6 out of 7 and she can’t even rule or command 3 flocks of peasants. NOTHING about her arc is about learning how to rule, not like Jon and Daenerys. Sansa doesn’t know how to tax, she's bad at maths, she doesn’t know how to negotiate, battle strategies or how to command armies. She’s NEVER had any experience in ruling much less run a household. Her biggest achievement is throwing a lavish feast and tournament for nobles (while winter is on the horizon and with it starvation) while Petyr hoards food to gouge prices and she does nothing about it and doesn’t even ask him about it. Do you think Elizabeth I, Wu Zetian, Margaret I of Denmark, or Catherine II of Russia were traditional, soft and delicate ??

Ah, sorry, I forget, Sansa also thought about Mya Stone, “She could be pretty, if she would dress up like a girl.”

Sansa’s narrative arc is a slow, subtle and steady one. Clearly she’s a dark horse character who is meant to take the reader by surprise. In order to enjoy her story in heart’s content you have to have a patient mind. The fact you can’t do that sounds more like a you problem rather than a Sansa problem. Secondly, running a household is what Sansa does in AFFC and the fact there hasn’t been problems indicates that she has been doing a good job. GRRM doesn’t have to spell everything out to you in order to get that, like are you a child? Read between the lines, anon.

I don’t know all the women you mentioned but I know a thing or two about Wu Zetian and Elizabeth Tudor. Are you seriously comparing Sansa to women who accumulated majority of their power in their mid twenties? At Sansa’s age Wu Zetian was a maiden still living at home and doing her homework like a good girl.. Elizabeth was being sexually abused by pedophile Thomas Seymour (just like what Sansa is enduring right now. Sansa shares similarities with her too, not just Eleanor of Aquitaine).

Thirdly, Sansa doesn’t need to learn everything for you to understand that she has a political arc and is groomed by GRRM to become a ruler. Like Jon has his pit falls too but that doesn’t take away his political arc. All that tells me is Sansa is exceptional in area where Jon is lacking and Jon’s strongest area are Sansa’s weaknesses. It’s almost like GRRM is setting them up to combine their skills and work like a team. Funny isn’t it. Fortunately they will likely meet in TWOW and then Sansa can learn what she lacks from Jon. So I say wait till the book comes out before judge Sansa’s TWOW sample chapter (which by the way is likely only a draft). Patience is a virtue, anon. Exercise some.

I fail to see what that random quote about Mya Stone has to do with the point you are making, but since we sharing quotes I will share one too:

By the time all the new knights had been given their sers the hall was growing restive, and none more so than Joffrey. Some of those in the gallery had begun to slip quietly away, but the notables on the floor were trapped, unable to depart without the king's leave. Judging by the way he was fidgeting atop the Iron Throne, Joff would willingly have granted it, but the day's work was far from done. For now the coin was turned over, and the captives were ushered in. (A Clash of Kings, Sansa VIII)

Sansa at the age of twelve can listen to hours of court hearings without feeling bored or restless, something what adults twice, or even thrice, her age cannot do, for some of them quietly leave court. In this scene Sansa is on the gallery (Sansa leaned forward, her hands tight around the gallery’s wooden rail) and she could just easily leave without being noticed, but she doesn’t. She stays till the very end. You what this tells me? That Sansa can handle the day to day boring bureaucratic work that is required from a ruler. In fact she loves it. I mean she voluntarily decided to attend the court that Ned held in AGOT and then excitedly told everything that happened in court to Jeyne. Miss. War Criminal on the other hand grows bored of holding court. So who exactly is not suited to rule here? It certainly isn’t Sansa.

#answered #sansa stark #anti daenerys targaryen

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

Text

Tempestuous

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, object insertion, some violence and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The king and his court visit Storm’s End, bringing chaos with them.

Characters: Jaime Lannister

Note: Why did I right this? idk.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like a hobbit love second breakfast. Take care. 💖

"The king has come home to Storm's End," Delia says as you pull down a stiff sheet from the line, stale from hours in the rare summer sun of the otherwise overcast city, "you shoulda come see. Oh, but he is a rather large man."

"Did he have his hammer, then?" You taunt as you take down another linen sheet, "the one he cracked the old prince's skull with?"

"Don't say that," she hisses with a frantic wave, "it is not only the king who's visiting. He brought half his court and them ears as well."

"Is it treasonous to wonder? To speak of the past?" You frown and drop the swathe of cotton into the basket, "Deli, why d'you even care about the king? He's not come to see buncha shepherd's daughters."

"What else is there to care about?" She sighs as you lift the wicker basket between you, made heavy by the lengths of fabric, "his wife, oh, she's so beautiful. Definitely a Lannister, golden and shiny."

"Don't let pa hear all that," you warn, "you know how he is."

"Must be where you get it from," she sticks her tongue out, "can't never be happy about anything."

"I'm happy. Happy for a roof and a plate," you shrug, "happy for my family and the hens. What happiness can I spare for fancies and dreams?"

"What's so wrong with dreamin'?" She pouts.

"Nothin', so long you're content with disappointment."

"There's to be a tourney," she declares gaily as you come in site of your father's house.

"In this season?" You glance up at the yellow sky, fluffy clouds certain to turn grey.

"Ugh, you must see the worst in even the best. We may never see the knights and ladies again in Storm's End."

"The Lord Paramount frequents often enough. Is he not noble enough for your tastes?"

"That isn't my meaning," she bemoans, "I blame this rainy land for your similar tiding."

"Do you think father would let you sneak into the pits and watch?"

"Why, do you think to sneak with me?" She brightens.

"Hm, perhaps I might be in the mood to see a rabble," you sigh as you pass through the low gate, sheep chewing lazily at the long grass, "but you should be more concerned if pa would let us."

"Pa loves the king," she huffs, "so why wouldn't he?"

"I hear things of the king's friend he mightn't be so fond of," you turn your hand up, "but I cannot say if they are more than rumours. If father allows it, I will go, if only to keep you in hand."

"Claim whatever you like," she chimes, "but I can see you are as curious as I to see the knights."

You grumble and give her no further words. There is more to worry about than jousts or showy combat, the event will be no more than a speck in the dull eye of any peasant.

⚔️

Your father mulls his decision despite Delia's impatience. Your mother leaves it to him, offering no word against or for, but you see the concern in her eye. Delia has always been careless and bit impulsive.

Your shared straw mattress is restless as your sister tosses and turns, babbling about how she might convince your father. Despite your pleas that she sleep and not worry so much, she does not cease. Each time you are close to dozing, she grabs your arms and wakes you for another ramble.

"Del," you sit up and shake her off at last, "whatever father decides, no amount of shearing or sweeping will matter to him. It is on his shoulders now, let it rest there... and let me sleep!"

"Oh, but I cannot stop thinking and imagining it all. What if I was to meet a knight and he were to see me and--"

"Rats, Delia, rats! You drive me mad!" You push yourself to your knees and groan as you get your feet under you and stand, "I would rather sleep on the silt."

"You don't think it could happen?" She bats her lashes.

"Tell me, sister, which knight would fall so fervently for a sheep's minder? Hmm? If that is the reason you seek permission, I will not be your comfort when it does not happen. You've cost me enough sleep as it were."

"Oh, you always were so dire," she falls back and drapes her arm over her face, "fine, go sleep with the sheep. See if I care."

You roll your eyes but let her to her wallowing, alone. You hardly think it'll keep her from chattering as you've caught her more than once at a dialogue with herself. You descend from the loft over the common space of your fathers house and tiptoe in the dark. You take your mother's heavy shawl from the hook by the door and shove your feet into a pair of leather clogs.

Restless, you know sleep is lost to you for some time, if not entirely. You curse your sister as you emerge into the damp residue of the evening's storm. You hear the waters off the coast, loudly ebbing and flowing, but not stirred by malice. The sea is as calm as it ever is in Storm's End.

You pass the pen and let yourself out the gate. The moon gleams over the water, reflection swirling in the mist. You follow the winding path down the hillside, soles gritting across the rocky shore. A chill stirs the tails of your sleeping shift and you hug the shawl closer as you look out at the water.

You find a place in the stony sand, just beyond the reach of the waves, and watch the sea. It is eerie to be there alone but peaceful. You take a handful of dirt and let it go, watching it cascade back over the ground. You stare up at the silver face off the moon and think.

How can Delia act as if all has changed and yet nothing has? The king and his men can hardly change the order of things, even with crown and title. No, every day is just as the one before and after. You can already hear your sister morning their departure and its insignificance.

You lay back in the sand as the noise of the water calms you. You close your eyes, knowing you should go back and sleep in the barn as Delia suggested. You don't, instead letting the night waft over you.

The sound doesn't disturb you at first. You think it's crabs or some creature scuttling, but then it grows louder, steady, heavy. You look over at the silhouette of a horse, it's rider glowing gold against the moon light.

You frown and stay flat to the ground. You watch with bated breath as he dismounts and lead the horse to the water. The salty foam is not fit to drink and the horse does not try. The man bends as he wiggles off his glove, dragging his fingers through the shallows.

You roll slowly, carefully, and lift yourself on hands and knees. You carefully begin to crawl towards the shadows of the hills. You hear the water and the sand, not daring to glance back at the soldier.

"You there," his deep voice carries over the coast, "halt."

You don't obey. Not at first. You go faster, hoping to evade him up the hillside where his horse can't go.

"In the name of the king, I said halt," he repeats.

That time, you must. Knowing he's a king's man, it would be next to treason to do otherwise. You hang your hand and sit back on your heels.

You turn as you hear his footfalls, his cape flapping in the wind as he nears. You watch with dread, knowing the gold silk can only mean one thing; king's guard. You can't wonder why he's there, more so detest that he is.

"My lord," you get to your feet and give a clumsy bow, "apologies, I was wandering--"

"Hiding," he stops and rests his hand on his pommel. He wears no armour, only tan leather to match the hue of his cloak, "and why's that?"

"No reason, lord, I did not mean to disturb so I was--"

"And if you are wandering," he interrupts, "why here? Where do you hale from? Some brothel or street corner?"

"N-no," you say stunned, "no, Ser, I am only sleepless."

He harrumphs and pushes his head back, "you peasants, so simple."

You swallow and stare at the high collar of his jacket. He's agitated as he shakes out his hand, only to once more grip his sword.

"I don't know how my brother finds you all so endearing," he mutters, his golden locks catching the moonlight as his square jaw is cast in shadow, "suppose it's more about what they give him for his coin."

"Ser, I am not a--"

"Course you aren't," he dismisses with a flick of his fingers, "what man would pay for you? I dare say my brother may even turn his nose up."

You furrow your brow and dip your head, "my lord. May I go now?"

"Where?"

"Home?" You reply, perplexed.

"And where's home?"

"My father's. He's a shepherd," you point up but without clear direction. You know this man, of his reputation. There is no other king's guard of the same cut. Jaime Lannister, the king slayer.

"Back to your sheep," he scoffs, "perhaps that is who my brother is paying for his lusts while I await him like some servant."

You clamp your mouth shut and shrug.

"Certainly, you wouldn't know. What do you know?" He waves his hand and turns away, "fine, go home to your father and his sheep."

"My lord," you keep your head down and spin on your heel.

She noise of steel on leather sounds as he unsheaths his sword and you stop. The tip of the blade rests on your shoulder, a good and dangerous weight.

"You know who I am?" He asks and you nod. "And you know what I've done?" Another nod, "so you have the sense not to speak of this encounter?"

"My lord," you whisper.

He pulls the blade off your shoulder and lets the tip brush along the shawl, "very well."

You don't move until you hear him stride away. He laughs to himself, his voice echoing up into the sky as a distant rumble rolls over the sky, as if to join in. You scurry up the sand, back to the path, without looking back.

Who would think to meet a Lion of Lannister down in the sands? Certainly not you. And you daren't mention it to Delia for fear of stoking her hopes. Even if she were to meet some knight, you doubt him to be any better.

⚔️

It's the same old answer. 'You may go, if your sister does.' While you agreed to the outing prior, it does not make that statement any less edged. As always, you are you sister's keeper, tasked with being a chaperone, rather than companion.

Delia nearly squeals at the circumstantial acquiescence. You thought your father would refuse and had no intent of truly watching the men pretend at battle. Still, your sister is not entirely incorrect. It is like an experience that will not come twice.

The frenzy that seems contagious spreads beyond your household. The other farmer, the merchants, even the beggars are alight with anticipation. Your own is restrained only by the memory of that peculiar night, the encounter with the king's guard which you could hardly believe was more than a dream. Perhaps it was. You don't worry either way as he would be unlikely to recall a commoner, nor to meet you again amid the hordes of unwashed.

You let the thought fade into the monotony of your daily toil, all as Delia is agog in her fantasies. She tells you aloud how she will meet a fair knight and no longer be the shepherd's daughter. You withhold your cynicism as you sweep what she's left untouched by her own broom.

You long for when she no longer is distracted by her fanciful delusions and so you count down with her to the first day of the tournament. She wears a yellow dress with a braided belt, her nicest, and you pull on your usual undyed cotton, beige and unremarkable. Amid the crush of the crowd, you expect to be muddied up, though she believes she will be a shining star amid the miniscule.

You follow the train of peasantry, old, young, and in between, along the winding streets and past the silken tents erected for the knights and their squires. You can't help but marvel at the blowing banners of houses, dyed in every colour and shade. Horses nick impatiently and servants run between canvas and wood at their duties.

The stands are made of thick logs, to be destroyed upon the departure of the royal party. A waste like anything else the rich indulge in. You don't think much on it, it isn't your trouble to worry for.

As you stream into the crowded pits, the shouts of vendors erupt, selling pies and watered-down ale, as the higher rows fill with nobles and merchants, dressed in bright tones and glittering jewels. The furor is deafening as bodies press together and push you to the limit of the pit.

"Oh, there are so many," Delia groans and you hold onto her arm, afraid to lose her.

"I told you--"

"Oh, you always tell me," she fans herself with her hand, "must you always be so right?"

You tilt your head wryly but say nothing. If you had, it would've been smothered by the blare of the trumpets. The horns are joined by beating drums and plucking strings, all before the crier announces the arrival of the king, to sit in his box to watch the entertainment. Too old and fat to sit a horse himself. Too vaunted to lift his hammer against blade.

Delia latches onto you and shakes you as she cheers, trying to see over the masses to the distant dot of the king as he waves to his subjects. You hardly feel beholden to him. So lowly that you doubt you have any effect upon him or him you.

A figure beside him, slender, tall, with golden hair to her waist, mirrors him in his greeting. His wife, Cersei Lannister, plays her part gracefully. There are two others, to either side, golden and still. King's Guard, though you cannot make out which.

"Can you believe it, sister?" Delia breathes in her ear, "we're really here."

You smile at her. She is happy then and you won't spoil it. Even if after you will have to live in her disillusionment.

⚔️

Delia loses you in the rush to disband from the pit. The prospect of free ale at the expense of the crown has the people thirsty and thoughtless. You’re nearly trampled as you lose sight of your sister, swept up in the futile flow of the swarm.

Finally, you come into open air, breaking free and turning to watch the train of spectators. You don’t see Delia, only the blend of bodies moving across the grasses, sandals, clogs, and boots crushing the wet grass. The tumult of the tournament lingers, booming in voices and jostling with playful punches and nudges.

You feel lost and a bit scared. She can find her way home and likely will but what if she wanders too far? You’re both full grown but that doesn’t make it any less dangerous. Drunkenness is hardly a parent of good behaviour.

You wait until much of the flock are in the tents before you follow. Outside, you hear horns and laughter from those tents further down, those reserved for nobility. There are those who mill about, covetous of the event, soldiers with sword on hips but eyes on cups.

You enter to the ribaldry, the flow of foam topping bone cups. You walk the parameter, dodging out of the way of fellow celebrants, searching, sweeping over every step. If Delia is there, you cannot find her.

The heat within the canvas grows stolid and sweat mingles with humidity to coat your skin. You elbow your way to the long flap and let yourself out into the evening. The darkness descends as the moon rises to its apex. The day has run by like a river.

You peer down the rows of tents, horses tied at posts and torches stuck into the dirt. You could wait there until she is forced out. It could be hours but it may be the best way.

You resign yourself to the tedium but a trill tweaks your ear. You tilt your head and listen. Hushed voices float in the air. There’s some rustling as you follow the noise, a sudden shriek shaking you.

Your heart lodges in your throat and you look around. Shadows pace lazily between tents, soldiers making their watch heedlessly. They do not seem to hear the shout. Another rises and you race past the ten without a thought. You know it’s Delia, she screams like that when she sees caterpillars in the house.

“Come on, girlie, just a taste,” the gritty voice growls, “stop squirming, eh? Pull your skirts up.”

You stop short as you see their silhouettes, skin pricking, head buzzing. The golden arm glints in the moonlight. What do you do? A soldier, a King’s Guard of all people, it is a crime to even challenge him, yet he is groping and grabbing at Delia. Was he not sworn to protect the king and abstain from all else?

Before you can find your voice, a light flickers from behind you. Footsteps near and a throat clears.

“Trant,” the deep timbre cuts through Delia’s whimpers, trapped behind the guard’s gauntlet, “are you truly going to do all this with a witness?”

The man, Trant, releases your sister and she falls to the ground as he squints as Ser Jaime. You step aside as he holds up the torch in his hand. His lips are crooked in a half-smirk.

“At least take her in a tent,” Jaime scoffs.

Trant chuckles and bends to grab Delia by the nape of her neck, “get up, wench.”

“Wai–” you lunge forward and Lannister stops you with an arm.

“Move another step and I’ll have him throw her in the sea,” he sneers.

“Please, ser, she is my sister–”

“I don’t care if she’s the Maiden herself,” he turns and shoves you as your sister squeals and kicks as she’s tossed over the other knight’s shoulder.

“Why–”

“You ask me questions, peasant?” He grabs your arm and shakes you, “how fate must delight in our meeting again. I believe it is a sign from the Seven, don’t you?”

You stammer and shake him off. He hisses and reaches for his pommel. You stumble, nearly bowled over by the venom in the noise.

“You think highly of yourself, like a queen,” he grips the sword, “that I, a knighted King’s Guard, dare touch you…” he closes the gap and grabs you by the chin, thrusting you close, “I could run you through and leave you for the crows to find. And who would care?”

You gulp and stare up at him, the dim grey of the night consumes you as he blocks out the moon.

“But what am I to do? The king is in his cups and shall have his queen, whether she wishes it or not. My brother has his whores, rented in gold, and I…” he inhales, “what do I have?”

You murmur, nonsensical as your fingers brush his sleeve. He tuts and throws you away from him.

“Don’t think yourself so special,” he snarls, “bend over.”

You stagger and face him, a quiver rattles your breath. He slides the steel slowly up from the sheath.

“Did I not give you an order?” he rasps as the metal shines in the silver moonlight. “Turn around and bend over.”

You wince and blink as your eyes burn. You move stiffly, your body resisting your mind. As you bring your back to him, he grips the back of your neck and pushes you down, nearly slamming you to your stomach before you can get your foot out to keep off the ground. You whimper as he pinches you meanly.

“This is what I hate about you peasants. You have nothing. You are nothing and you come and get your fill and go back to your sheep and your shit,” he drags his hand down your spine and tugs the top of your skirt, raising the hem as he gathers the layers into a bundle above your rear, “you don’t know what it is to matter… how absolutely miserable it is.”

He pulls his hand away and smacks your bare ass. You gasp and hear the steel against the leather as he frees it completely. You shut your eyes, is this how it happens. You wait for the sword to descend, for the pitiful execution in the muddy grass.

He steps behind you as you brace your knees. He tisks and presses the cold pommel of his sword to your bottom. He slides it across and down between your cheeks. You shiver, uncertain, as he reaches your folds.

He pushes against you. The hard round end strains against your tight entrance. He frames your hip with his hand and leans more weight into you. The metal stretches you, strangling a gurgle from your lips. The bulbous end slips past the last of your resistance as your thighs quake.

“You think you’re worth my cock?” He scoffs, “no, no, I am a man of the sword.”

He wiggles the sword and inches in further inside, the rough leather-bound handle scrapes against your walls. Tears trickle down, born of shame and pain, and the jams in the last of the pommel. He eases it back as you catch your breath, only to ram it back in.

Your pelvis rings with the force and you reach a hand to the ground to hold yourself upright. Your fingers graze the dirt as he thrusts again.

He fucks you with pommel, jolting you with each violent intrusion. Your tears well up and flow free, sobs hiccuped through your tight throat. You can barely keep afoot, barely think as he desecrates you. You throb and ache around the thick handgrip.

He stops abruptly and his hand crawls down from your hip to pinch your ass. He chuckles and bends over you, breathing down your neck.

“I had a funny thought,” he taunts, “as this is no man’s cock, though I must say it is as great as that weapon sheathed in my trousers, does that mean you are still virginal? Or perhaps you may claim you’ve been deflowered by The Warrior himself.”

He clicks his tongue and shoves the pommel deep, until your legs fold and he follows you down, descending to his knees as he keeps it buried inside you. You hide your face in the dirt as you wail, the vibrant clamour from within the tents drowning your cries.

“Say what you will, but you will never forget the King’s Slayer’s blade, will you, wench?”

#jaime lannister #dark jaime lannister #dark!jaime lannister #jaime lannister x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #one shot #game of thrones #got

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gemsofgreece · 1 year

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How was life during the Byzantine empire and how different was with the rest of Medieval Europe?

I am afraid this could be the content of a proper book as it is very generic. I was trying to find something that could help me make a short enough post and I stumbled over this gem

My new gender is "effeminate person that speaks to statues" from now on although "Small Greek" (Graecula?) might be just as accurate

Yeah anyway the Byzantine Empire was the most advanced European and West Asian state of the Middle Ages from the 4th to the 11-12th centuries, as after that its collapse and the simultaneous fast rise of the West begin.

The Byzantine Empire had the largest and very diverse and rich cities, so beautiful that they attracted travellers from all over the known world just to see them (medieval tourists in short 😝). Constantinople more than any other, which chroniclers of the time sometimes described as “glowing with gold”. It was the center of the world's trade at its peak, it traded products between the East and the West.

It had universities and almost all people were getting at least some level of education, even if basic, including girls. It likely had the lowest percentage of women's illiteracy. Of course there was serious inequality by today’s standards but Byzantium was still one of the best places to live as a woman in the middle ages. Women had properties, ran their own businesses, could ask for divorce (in extreme circumstances) and could remarry but they were not obligated to. Women also participated in all festivities alongside men. There are also a few instances of women being influential and strong minded creators, like authors and poets (ie the aforementioned Anna Komnene, and not Komnenos as it says above, surnames here are gendered guys, stop turning all Greek women into dudes)

Byzantium preserved and studied extensively Classic philosophy, literature and science at a time these were still unknown to the west.

While Byzantium is perceived as an extreme Theocracy, in reality the Patriarch (the Orthodox equivalent of the Pope) was subordinate to the Emperor (unlike the Pope and the western kings) and therefore the emperor could oppose to the patriarch if his decisions were getting too much against the secular state's benefits. While the emperor was viewed as a saint on earth, this view was rather superficial and full of pretense. The commonwealth could get very easily restless and agitated when the emperor didn't meet their needs - this is why peasants and the army would often collaborate and overturn an emperor. Therefore, in the Byzantine Empire anyone could claim the throne no matter how humble his background was as long as he was skilled, intelligent, brave, popular and ruthless (or at least determined) enough. In general, even though there were social hierarchies, it was a place where you could rise in power, wealth, education and status despite your origins if you tried a lot or had a fair amount of cunning. Oh and the Byzantine Empire was the only medieval state to have been ruled by four women (a few of them ruthless indeed) without a man (or with a man being just a consort, I believe). But also, all empresses were expected to temporarily rule if their emperor husband was at war or sick, therefore they were always involved in the empire's affairs and their opinion mattered hugely both with the emperor and the court. Some empresses had very humble backgrounds as well and, you know, that’s kinda a big deal when it comes to medieval women. Even women could rise in power despite their background.

The Byzantine Empire liked festivities, showing off, luxuries, having fun - because, again, the commonwealth had to be satisfied. Peasants didn’t eat meat often, however there was a considerable diversity in the cuisine and also feasts where meat was offered for free to all.

There were also some technological feats (like some early robotlike devices), weapon innovations and medicine advancements like some pretty elaborate surgeries (including the first separation of conjoined twins - it would be attempted again 700 years later). The hospital as we know it today (trying to cure the patients) is a Byzantine invention as up to that point a hospital was just a place to accomodate dying people. The Byzantines took better care of their hygiene (there are records of Western Europeans being confused at how often Byzantine princesses wanted to take a bath).

About the worse stuff, the Byzantine Empire might have been one of the most invaded or threatened states in history, even by medieval standards. A war was experienced by every second generation on average! Invaders attacked from all sides. However, the cities had very strong walls, the Byzantine army was pretty strong (and hired good warriors from all Europe and Anatolia) and Byzantine diplomacy was also pretty advanced, often offering taxes and tolls to avoid conflicts. Such measures could rapidly impoverish the empire and the emperor had to impose huge taxes and then as said above the peasants would riot and the emperor would fall and the next one would either fight off the aspiring invaders or hide the financial issues until the next riot or happened to be a very competent ruler that led the empire to a new era of development and financial prosperity. This happened so many times that it made the empire a hilarious rollercoaster in terms of the economy. Nevertheless, it always kept the façade of luxury even at its worst. With that way or another (even if it might seem at times a not very proud way), the empire lasted and flourished longer than any other Medieval state until its pretty gruesome downfall.

Everything I mentioned above was better than the respective conditions in Western Europe in the Middle Ages. However, excuse any potential inaccuracies because it’s hard to shorten such a big topic and it might have some generalisations. I do believe what I wrote is pretty accurate though.

#byzantine empire #eastern roman empire #byzantine history #greek history #anon #ask

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mareenavee · 11 months

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*standing at the counter like a McDonald's*

Uhhh I would like 🍓and 🍕for Nyenna and Tel

For Nyenna and Teldryn? But of course! (: Sorry it's taken me so long. I had chaos, which was then compounded by more chaos. And then I decided to ignore it all and write half a chapter. As one does. I appreciate the patience!

Without further ado:

ODD OC asks for Nyenna and Teldryn from my fic The World on Our Shoulders!

ask game is here.

🍓: Does your OC have any particular scents they like? Or hate?

Nyenna finds calm in floral smells. She's known how to make soap, skin care and hair care (such as it is) from flowers and plants for a very long time. In Whiterun, lavender is pretty easy to source and very inexpensive, so that's a favorite scent for her.

She is terrified of bunches of skeevers gathering around her, even though it's not the kind of fear that will make her run away from them. But they gross her out worse than even undead thralls, especially ones with all kinds of obvious rotting happening. So the unique stench of a pack of skeevers will definitely be something she hates probably above most other unpleasant smells.

Teldryn won't tell anyone this because he prefers to complain about smells rather than compliment them, but he likes canis root tea just as much as Neloth does. (In my hc, canis root tea is simply the Tamriel equivalent of chicory coffee.) Geldis pretty much always makes it for him whenever he's stuck at the Netch, but he buys the pre-ground stuff. Neloth's people make it all freshly ground, which smells infinitely better. But either way, canis root tea is the best smell.

He hates when anyone, even himself, starts to smell too much of the road -- so really, of unwashed bandits. I don't need to go into why. He once left a patron because the man refused to bathe!! The nerve of some people, really. The unwashed smell kind of lingers in certain slums he's been through, and it just does not sit well with him and he will absolutely let everyone know exactly what he thinks of their lack of personal hygiene once he gets annoyed enough by it.

🍕: How does an OC spend a lazy day?

Let's pretend Nyenna lets herself have a lazy day. Someone has hidden all her books and ledgers so she can't study or plan. They've stopped her from training or running errands, so she's not about to craft anything strenuous. Maybe she gets to stay home all day for once. IF that was the case, she bakes! She doesn't always stress bake. Sometimes she just likes to make good food for her friends and family. Generally her favorites to do are nice, easy peasant bread or snowberry crostata, but she's open to other recipes. (Like this one for Jazbay Crostata, for instance.)

Teldryn is similarly restless, but perhaps not to the same degree as Nyenna. He's pretty socialization-averse, so he'd certainly not end up in any kind of party, perish the thought. He doesn't have the time or focus generally to read much. Finding new material that isn't boring as hell isn't that easy these days, but when he gets to Whiterun, he finds some good things to steal from Nyenna's collection. I think he'll definitely read The Locked Room for kicks, though he's almost certain he read at least most of it before. (I swear I've seen someone write him reading it before lol so it's fanon now) And for the record, if Nyenna figures out he stole the book from her collection, she'd absolutely spoil the ending. He'd deserve it. But yeah, if the book is good enough and he is given the chance to actually rest, he'd read for once.

#AskMareena #MareenaWrites #The World on Our Shoulders #Nyenna #Teldryn #LDB/Teldryn Sero #Teldryn Sero #Nerevarine Teldryn Sero #Skyrim #Elder Scrolls #tesblr #fanficblr #writblr #writeblr

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thewriterowl · 2 years

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I saw a few fanfic where is Vader got Luke early or captures him, he dresses him in clothes that covers all the skin because no one should watch his child, I thought about how his also puts a dark veil on him to cover his face from peasants, they don't deserve to see him, and a spikey and beautiful crown on top, but one day Din somehow sees him, Luke is just in his garden and takes of his veil, Din was on a mission to kill the prince, really not a bounty, just revenge for his people, but then he sees Luke's face and, there is no way this is Vader son, he looks to pure, infatuated Din or Dark Din, he decides to take him as his spouse, but how to get close enough without Vader noticing or going after him.

He goes to visit Luke in the gardens in secret to try a woo Luke little by little (he still a polite gentleman after all), Luke is very happy that someone took an interest in him even though he is the child of a maniac, Luke gives him tips on how to have advantage of the Palace and probably Vader, Din realizes that he can't get Luke unless he is powerful, if he only had the darksaber, Luke tells him about Gideon having something like that, Din takes it, he reclaims mandalore and takes Luke away from Vader.

Vader is pissed, his son is away from him and doesn't know if he is safe, one day he sees his son with someone, the Mand'alor, and he is wearing clothes that reveal to much skin, but he can't do anything, he son looks so happy, he doesn't remember when was the last time he son smiled, so he leaves him, for now...

Oh no, I honestly love this so much....ugh I already have so many projects to dooooo....

Luke captured at Bespin and finds out that Vader has already killed the Emperor and is now the new leader of the Galactic Empire. He is forced to dress as a beloved prince, hidden in towers, shackled up with pretty Force cuffs, and infantilized constantly (cause I love me some of that). He is feeling exhausted but is doing his best to get information to the rebellion...he isn't able to do much, but he can do some. But he is caught and loses more and more of his freedom.

He remains in his very protect tower that the cannot get out from. He has a beautiful large wing that has everything he could need, including a very protected garden that he spends many hours in. But he is growing restless and afraid about ever escaping his overbearing and possessive father.

Din, maybe raised by Death Watch, is on a mission to take revenge for what the Empire did to his people of Mandalore and Aq Vetina. He is one of the best in the tribe and is thought to be a great leader and prime example of a Mandalorian (though he isn't sure he really cares too much) He just wants to get his vengeance.

He is able to do what no one else has, infiltrate the prince's garden and wing. He sneaks in and then finds a beautiful man, sitting on the grass, looking up at the sky with a forlorn and sad expression. He is in lighter robes than he wears in public and no veil and clearly has shackles on him.

Din is infatuated and curious instantly. He watches Luke for a while first and then begins to make his approach. Luke surprised someone could come in. Din sits and talks with him almost daily and knows he is going to marry this man and have him as his own.

But killing him and leaving his body and stealing him away were two very different things. He'd needed to be prepared. He needed to be stronger.

Luke, maybe a bit unaware of the implications or hoping he will take this to the rebellion, tells him all sorts of secrets and lets him know about the dark saber. Din then decides he is going to become Mand'alor so he can have Luke for his own easier.

He takes Luke and now the infamous Mandalore system and the Empire are at odds over one blond who really just would like to get back to shooting things from his X-Wings, thanks.

#owl inbox #dinluke

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merlot-and-chardonnay · 2 months

Text

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 47

Chapter 46

Masterlist

"What's all the commotion?" Aemma inquires of Ivan as the locals became increasingly restless by the hour.

"I fear this may turn into a riot," Ivan tells her, "it's about Saskia...and Prince Stennis. A servant has accused the prince of poisoning Saskia. The people are understandably furious. They want blood shed to avenge the woman."

"And....what is exactly stopping them at this moment?" Aemma asks. "The knights and the Aedirnian nobles mostly," Ivan answers, "though I'm not sure how much longer they can keep them at bay." "There was a peasant by the name of Kaltan on the council," Geralt explains, chiming in, "he didn't seem to like or respect anyone there." "If that's the case, he may very well be looking for trouble," Aemma says, "it's vital we maintain order, especially before we heal Saskia, which hopefully should be soon. We still have the ingredient yes?" "Short of one, I'm afraid," Phillipa chimes in.

"I...I don't understand," Aemma frowns in confusion, "you said we have everything we need, the herbs, the blood, the-" "The blood is no good," Phillipa shakes her head, "it...I checked the syringe. Long story short, your blood proved to be highly unstable, much like your power; we try giving that to Saskia, it may end up doing more harm than good. We'll have to look for another royal to draw blood from."

"Dammit," Aemma mutters, "I'm sorry, Phillipa." "Don't be," Phillipa assures, "you had no control over it's stability."

Right at that moment, the commoners became more vocal, led on by one man who was goading them in their anger. "Give us the prince!" One man demands, "Get the flails!"

"What is going on?" Aemma steps in along with Geralt and Ivan. "This need not concern you, girl," the second man, presumably Kaltan sneers at the princess, "Saskia has been poisoned, Prince Stennis is behind this. We demand justice!" Aemma looked towards the potential mob who were armed with various tools and torches, "this doesn't look like demanding justice to me."

"How would you possibly know, you little-" "STOP!" Iorveth's voice breaks through the crowd as he and several Scoia'tel join in the scene, "everyone who wants to leave this yard in one piece- keep your hands off your weapons. I don't care if you're a serf or a lord, I'll kill you all if need be."

"How are you to know Prince Stennis was the one who poisoned Saskia?" Aemma inquires. "The servant carrying wine said so," Kaltan answers, "It was Prince Stennis. We want justice!" "This isn't justice, this is a mob!" Aemma exclaims, "it's revenge. Who's to say the right person dies in the process?" "We don't care!" Kaltan exclaims, "Saskia has fallen as if dead, while the poisoning prince and the noble lords rush to herd us onto the field and sell us to Henselt. We won't let them!" "You lie, Kaltan," one noble accuses, "nobody is being sold out. The poisoner must be caught and tried by law." "Whose law? Yours?" Kaltan scoffs, "He'll pay a fine and then get spanked on his arse? We'll spank him alright- with an axe to the throat!"

"Where is this servant?" Geralt asks. "Safe," Iorveth assures, "The Scoia'tel are keeping an eye on him." "Why is the prince hiding in his house if he is innocent?" Kaltan sneers. "That is enough!" Aemma insists, "if Prince Stennis is guilty then we'll find out-" "Stay out of this you little bitch!" Kaltan threatens to shove Aemma aside, but Iorveth, much to everyone's surprise, stops the man in his tracks. "I would not do anything hasty if I were you," the elf warns, "this little bitch is Aemma Silverlark, lest you forgot she was named Saskia's heir in the council. You lay a hand on her, I will shoot you where you stand. Than heads will start falling." Aemma kept her surprise hidden as Kaltan backed off along with the rest of the mob. She had no idea Saskia had already announced that Aemma was to be her heir. Did Saskia anticipate that Aemma was actually considering this offer.

"We need to act quickly," Iorveth insists. "We?" Geralt says incredulously. "The mob's akin to a forest after a drought, one spark and the fire will be unstoppable," Iorveth explains. "I'm no peacekeeper, and definitely no judge," Geralt lightly scoffs. "We're all in it whether you like it or not," Iorveth tells him. "Iorveth is right," Aemma interjects, getting both men's attention, "The common folk demand justice for Saskia's poisoning, and if Stennis really was the instigator, we need to find evidence and fast."

"Where do we start?" Ivan asks. "Question the nobles and the peasants," Iorveth instructs, "and talk to the dwarves. Maybe you can get to meet Stennis. And find the servant who started talking so suddenly." "I could talk to Stennis, see what he has to say," Aemma suggests, hoping maybe her powers will come to her when she does talk and she could see into Stennis' past for clues about his potential connection to the poisoning. "Even if he is guilty, it's likely he's come up with a suitable alibi," Geralt points out. "You'll be able to sort out the sheep and the goats."

"Alright then," Aemma nods, "Geralt, you should question the locals, you know how to speak their language. Ivan, you go talk to the servant. I'll talk to Stennis. Iorveth...you'll keep the peace?" "I'll do my best," Iorveth nods in assurance. Aemma stayed behind momentarily while Geralt and Ivan split up. She looked to the elf almost questioningly, which didn't go unnoticed. "Did Saskia...did she really name me her heir?" "It would appear she had during the meeting," Iorveth nods. "Did you know anything about that beforehand?" Iorveth only shook his head in response, "she never told me. Frankly, it is still a mystery to me why she would choose you of all people."

"Why do this then?" Aemma asks. "Why did you stand up for me against that knight? Why get involved in the first place?" "...I'm doing it for Saskia, not for this rabble, that is certain," Iorveth answers quietly; as stoic as the elf usually was, there was a certain look of longing in his eye. Aemma recognized that look once before when she saw glimpse's of Iorveth's past with Ivan's mother. Did Iorveth have similar feelings for Saskia?

Iorveth in contrast was trying to make more sense of Aemma. What did Saskia see in this young woman, who descended from a dynasty of inbred conquerors who believed themselves to be exceptional and above respite? Was this really who Saskia felt was mist suited to help oversee a free realm that would see to it that humans and non-humans alike could live freely and without fear? So far, though, it seemed Aemma was already taking to a leadership position in the way she instructed the Vhatt'ghern and the in'hiede to locate the true poisoner and avoid a mob trial. Maybe there was something there that the elf couldn't see.

Aemma walked over to the house Stennis was supposedly hiding in. She convinced the guards to let her in, playing her new card as Saskia's Heir Apparent.

"Aemma Silverlark," Stennis greets, "welcome. What brings you here?" "I want to talk to you about Saskia?" Aemma folds her arms, acting serious. "I see," Stennis nods solemnly, "So the mob has gotten to you? Convinced you it was I who orchestrated her being poisoned?" "Hardly," Aemma narrows her gaze, "the people are scared. It is clear they adore and look up to Saskia, as if she were one of the heroes from the time of the First Men. Their hero is possibly dying, and they want answers. She wanted me to be her heir. I want to help. If you could give me something to do go on, Prince Stennis, I am certain we could work together to find the true poisoner. Consider it an act of cooperation, from a princess to a prince."

"Ah, that is right, you are a princess," Stennis agrees, "A foreign princess, but still a princess. We speak the same language in that regard." "What can you tell me, exactly?"

Stennis gave his alibi. As he did so, Aemma subtly clenched her wrist, trying to concentrate on the incantations Phillipa taught her when trying to access and control her powers the first time around. Maybe she use could them to help breach into Stennis' mind and give her glimpses of his recent past.

For a moment there, it seemed to work...but not in the way she had wanted. The moment she breached Stennis' mind, she found herself in another town; she saw Stennis arguing with other men, dressed similar to the nobles who were determined to see that Stennis be given a fair trial. The argument was intense and started to escalate, but she could not hear her them talk, their voices muted for some reason. So Philippa's incantation worked but only to a certain extent.

Stennis saw the confused look on Aemma's face, "You don't believe me, do you?" Stennis scoffs. "No, no, I do," Aemma assures, "I believe you. I'll take it into consideration." Stennis only gave Aemma an incredulous look.

"Why are you even here in the first place?" Aemma decides to change the subject. "Why are you here?" Stennis asks back. "I...Saskia asked for me, I wanted to know why," Aemma answers, "I am a princess of Westeros, I have nothing else to my name except my title. But you, prince...you're the son of Aedirn's late king. By that logic and reasoning, you should've been crowned the next king." "Well sadly, my position is not strong there," Stennis admits, "My father emboldened the nobles. The great families have decided, in this hour so critical for the realm, to revolt." "Are you not the next heir?" Aemma asks, "should that not have been disputed." "Odd question coming from a princess whose own realm has saw its first woman be name heir to it's throne," Stennis lightly scoffs, "all this despite the fact that your own king uncle has at least three sons of his own by now, his eldest son having children of his own. I know something about Westerosi politics, I've been keeping track of such matters since the time father send proposals in an attempt to betroth me to King Viserys' oldest daughter. Back to the matter at hand, Aedirn has become a lawless country, ruled by those who wield might, by those whom people follow. I intend to show just how worthy I am of the crown and thus claim what's mine."

"So that's why you aligned yourself with Saskia then," Aemma realized, "you help her take Upper Aedirn and defeat Henselt's armies, you would be welcomed back a hero...and one fit to sit the throne." "Precisely," Stennis nods in confirmation, "So, you understand then why any attempts on Saskia's life on my part would be antithetical to my own ambitions." "I...I suppose so," Aemma says, not so certain if this still could be Stennis' way of coming out of this whole thing as a hero, if he happened to have the antidote hiding somewhere which would be given to Saskia right when all hope seemed lost. "I don't appreciate your tone," Stennis admonishes.

"If you would be happy to indulge me, Prince Stennis, just of curiosity, what else do you know of my family and Westerosi politics?" "...I know your uncle King Viserys naming his oldest daughter Princess Rhaenyra heir to the Iron Throne, and refusing to officially name his oldest son Prince Aegon in her steed has been a contentious subject among the Westerosi nobles since the boy was born," Stennis answers, "I also know there are whispers at court that the sons of Rhaenyra by her late husband were actually sired by another man, though her father has yet to confirm if those rumors are true by declaring them bastards. I know that before all that, there were others on the Continent vying for Rhaenyra's hand aside from myself; Foltest was among them as were the king of Redania and the Emperor himself. I know Radovid had expressed desire to secure an alliance with your family by wedding you, though it appears such talks never went anywhere. If I recall, you, princess, had been meant to wed your cousin Aegon."

"My aunt the Queen, she felt we were not the best match," Aemma tells him. "I suppose not, especially when he had a sister to wed instead," Stennis says, the disgust in his tone noted from that particular concept. Aemma decided to let it slide, he was not the first person she's met who found the Targaryen tradition of wedding brother and sister to be indecent.

"Well then, I better be on my way then," Aemma says, "thank you for your time, prince. Oh, before I go though, might I request some of your blood?" "Whatever for?" "Phillipa needs royal blood in order to save Saskia's life." "I am yet to be crowned." "But you come from a long line of royalty." "As do you, why not you give the witch your blood instead?" "My blood was a little too strong as it turns out," Aemma admits, "Unstable." "Likely from your incestuous bloodline," Stennis sneers, "be that as it may, I do not consent to having my blood taken." "Even if it will save Saskia? We need it for her." "I NEED it to live. Now if you don't mind, princess, I'd ask that you leave. Don't want Saskia's heir to overstay her welcome."

"...very well then."

----------------later---------------

Once Aemma walked out of the house, he saw the mob was starting to heat up again, clearly getting impatient and wanting to see justice carried out for Saskia's poisoning.

Geralt called out over to Aemma, "I don't suppose you found anything useful," she says. "Not quite," the witcher admits, "yourself?" "I questioned Stennis, he had an alibi," Aemma confirms, "even if he wasn't the one who put the poison there, it doesn't mean he didn't conspire to harm Saskia."

"Either way...we appear to have run out of time," Geralt grimly says as some of the rabble pushed their way past the dwarves and nobles with the intention to break in and drag out Stennis so as to dispense their brand of justice.

"Stop this at once!" Aemma calls out, drawing her sword. "We've wait enough!" the man Kaltan exclaims, "we want justice! Bring out the prince!" "Vergen is not a cesspit for anyone to shit in," Geralt scolds, "There are laws to abide and uphold. Any fool can prejudge and condemn. It's easier to accuse then to provide guilt."

"A peasant servant claims that Prince Stennis supposedly attempted to kill Saskia," one of the nobles points out, "Why would the prince do such a dastardly deed? Bear in mind how eminent is his lineage!" Aemma held her tongue in this moment as the nobles and the common folk bickered among one another of Stennis' innocence; no matter how renown Stennis' bloodline is, that wouldn't stop him from doing something so villainous; Aemma also thought about how Stennis was determined to prove he was worthy to sit the throne of Aedirn as the next king. If he was desperate enough, it wouldn't have been so far-fetched if he thought to poison Saskia with the intention of saving her life at the last moment, making him a hero in the eyes of the common folk in the process.

This was still speculation; if Aemma were to convey that theory outright, evidence would be demanded of her, and she was certain what little she could garner from Stennis' past with her powers may not suffice.

As if on cue, Stennis walked out of the house, determination written on his countenance, "Your Highness, this is dangerous," the noble warns. "I am not afraid. Fear is a commoner's trait, unfit for one with royal blood running in his veins," Stennis assures, "What do you want? To judge me? Is a prince a common thief who steals a dozen eggs at the market? You stand before royal majesty! And you raise your hands against it! In this world, there are crimes that can be forgiven, and there are crimes that, by any means, cannot. Just as a mother killing her own child or a man slitting his own brother's throat cannot be forgiven. A crime against one anointed by the gods also cannot be condoned! He who raises a hand against divine right is not worthy to walk this world."

"And what about he who poisons the Virgin of Aedirn?" Kaltan sneers. "Firstly, Saskia is alive, so no one can blame me for her death," Stennis points out, "Secondly, you have no proof that it was I who tried to murder her! And thirdly, I assure all who gather here I won't rise above the law. However, only she, the Virgin of Aedirn can judge me." "Canny! And if Saskia won't get well, who's gonna judge you?"

"What of Saskia's heir?" one dwarf speaks up, nodding towards Aemma, "surely she holds the power to judge Stennis where he stands." "Oh uh, I suppose..." Aemma felt herself go pale; she may have been named Saskia's heir and knew how to fight with a sword and possess special powers, but what did she know of being judge jury and executioner?

"I no doubt Princess Aemma would be sufficient in passing judgement on her own in the future," Stennis speaks in, "however, as it stands, she is young, and still has much to learn in matters of ruling. I on the other hand am the one you should to for guidance. Let my deeds be the flame that lights up your darkness." "Spoken like a true sovereign," the one noble declares.

Aemma felt herself fuming, realizing Stennis was trying to upstage her and talk down over her before she could even get a word in edgewise. Geralt was about to speak up, but Aemma beat the witcher to it, "Prince Stennis, you are accused of poisoning Saskia. There is credible evidence against you, however speculative it is, it is sufficient enough to hold should there be a trial." "Pfft, hearsay, empty words," Stennis sneers, "no credible witnesses or physical evidence." "There's Saskia chalice, and the wine she drank that can be analyzed for poison," Aemma points out, "And the dwarf who made the chalice, and the servant who served the wine." "And just where is this servant who suddenly spoke out?" the noble supporting Stennis points out.

"Hold!" Ivan's voice breaks through the crowd. The knight in question pushes through with a servant in bonds and presenting the person to Aemma, "the servant who served the wine," Ivan announces placing a knife against the servant's back, "tell them all what you know." "...I served the wine to Saskia," the servant answers, "before that, I laced the poison onto the chalice, the same poison...that was given to me by Prince Stennis."

"He lies!" Stennis was to quick to deny. The mob suddenly jeered and erupted in fits of rage, calling for Stennis to be hanged. "Enough!" Geralt silences the crowd with his booming voice, "The prince has a right to a fair trial, no matter if he is guilty or not. We can't deny him that."

The noble turned to noble, "What say you, Silverlark?" Aemma, realizing the noble addressed her by the name she used to introduce herself to Saskia turned to Stennis, a certain look in her eye, "take Prince Stennis to the dungeon. He will remain there until a trial is set. If he is found guilty...he will be sentenced to death by beheading." Two of the dwarves apprehend Stennis and escort him to the dungeons. "Ser Ivan, have the servant placed in the house and put guards under his protection. We need him alive, he is key witness for the trial." "At once, princess," Ivan nods.

While some of the crowd booed at jeered at Stennis, others looked towards Aemma, a sense of adoration in their eyes. "Silverlark has proved she is a capable heir," the noble announces, "one who cares of justice. You are to be commended for this." "Thank you," Aemma nods, her voice not quite matching her confidence, or her lack of it. "Hail Silverlark!" a dwarf exclaim, "Hail Saskia's heir!" Those who remained in the crowd cheered in agreement, "Silverlark! Silverlark! Silverlark!"

---------------------------

"The peasants are furious," Iorveth stated as he rejoined, "though it seems their ire has been tempered for the time being, part in thanks to the princess." "They hadn't mount a frontal attack," Geralt points out. "But they won't forget about Stennis and won't," the elf points back, "it'll remain that way until Saskia regain consciousness." "We still need royal blood," Aemma says.

"I though you already donated a healthy amount," Iorveth says. "Turns out it was a little unstable for Phillipa's liking," Aemma admits, "it may make Saskia's condition worse then it is now. We need to find another donor for royal blood."

"Five quarts go to waste in the dwarven dungeon at the moment," Iorveth crosses his arms. "It's too risky getting anywhere near Stennis right now," Geralt points out, "not without enticing the mob."

"Who else can we go to?" Aemma asks. Geralt thinks on it before he makes his answer, "Henselt." "But isn't he-" "On the other side of the mist," Iorveth finishes for Aemma, "going through that fog is madness. Stealing Stennis would be easier." "No, Geralt is right," Aemma admits, "anything involving Stennis will cause a riot." Iorveth only growled in response, "I'm tired of the peasants and nobles barking. Saskia's the best leader I know, but she can't hope to beat Henselt's army with this rabble. Which is why I'm going to get reinforcements. Four Scoia'tel units await in hiding in the east. Time to summon them."

"You will make it in time?" Aemma asks. "I must," Iorveth says with determination before departing.

"How are we supposed to navigate the mist? Especially when it's crawling with those wraiths?" Aemma inquires of Geralt. "We'll need to consult Phillipa on that I'm afraid," Geralt answers. "Then we should go speak with her."

"You did well," Geralt says to Aemma as they walk in that direction, "the leading I mean." "Some leader I turned out to be," Aemma scoffs. "They listened to you," the witcher points out, "the nobles and the peasants when you gave out your orders." "But not before some of them tried to speak over me before Ivan produced the servant," Aemma says, "before that, Stennis tried to upstage me and insist he was most fit to lead, more so than me. He probably was...and I think some of the people might know that. He was right about one thing. I am young...and I don't know anything about leading or ruling. I never imagined I would ever have been in such a position."

"You are young," Geralt agrees, "but you have potential. Given time, and with the right guidance, that potential can be nurtured. You don't run before you learn to walk."

Aemma thought on those words, thinking about how much she had to learn about sword wielding and monster fighting. She had the potential, but it had to be nurtured by the right teacher, which she had found in Vesemir. Maybe if she stayed here after this, after fulfilling her quest and rescuing her mother, maybe she could learn from Saskia and become the leader these people would someday need when the time came.

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Geralt and Aemma walked over to where Phillipa was staying and presumably working on starting the antidote for Saskia. Geralt was about to knock on the door but stopped in his tracks.

"What's the holdup?" Aemma questions. "I...I don't think Phillipa is ready for us just yet," Geralt tells her, making Aemma frown a bit at that cryptic statement. "What are you talking about, surely she's been expecting us, we are still trying to save Saskia."

"Aemma I wouldn't-" Aemma ignores Geralt's warning and opens the door.

What Aemma saw, she didn't expect. Phillipa, a sheet wrapped around her naked body and riding crop in hand, was hard at work alright, but her sweat buildup was not from working on the antidote, but from using the crop on her assistant Cynthia who moaned in pleasure as Phillipa smack the crop against her backside.

The older sorceress stopped when she sensed the two weren't alone. She turned to face the princess and the witcher, no shame in her eyes whatsoever, but rather a sense of annoyance.

Flustered, Aemma stood there with her face red from embarrassment as Cynthia got up, not bothering to cover herself as she walked away to put her clothes back on. Geralt in contrast had more a smirk on his own face, though he did his best to mask it.

"I presume the two of you have come with news," Phillipa speaks up, placing a hand on her hip, and breaking the awkward silence. "Uh, I uh," was all Aemma managed to say, still flustered from what she just witnessed.

"I presume you've been working on the antidote," Geralt crosses his arms, "and locating Triss while you were at it." "I tried, I assure you," Phillipa answers, "but the mist disrupts the megascope. There's a weak signal nearby, probably on the other side." "In the Kaedwini camp?" Geralt asks to which Phillipa nods. "You'll have to pass through the mist." "There's no time then," Aemma says, shaking herself from her embarrassment, "how are we to accomplish this?"

"I'm continuously scanning the battlefield, I'll show the both of you through. I'll find you when you enter the mist." "What about Saskia?" Aemma asks. "She's still stable for now, I'm monitoring her vitals non-stop," Phillipa assures, "we still need royal blood if we are to save her life." "From Henselt," Geralt says. "We need his blood, NOT his death," Phillipa gives the witcher a certain look. "How many times do I have to say it, I'm NOT a kingslayer," Geralt exasperates.

"Okay, enough," Aemma interjects, "we're going. But if Saskia's condition does get worse, then please bring me back so I can give me blood again. I know you said it was unstable, but if it gets to the point where magic cannot keep Saskia breathing, we may not have any other choice." "Very well then," Phillipa states, "one more thing, Silverlark. The magic used to create the mist is powerful, should it mix with your own when you lose control such as before, it may create a volatile reaction. This is a list of various incantations to keep your gift in check. Use it ONLY when it is necessary. Do you understand?"

Aemma nods in response.

"Good," the sorceress says.

"One other thing," Phillipa speaks up right as Aemma and Geralt walk out the door, "when searching the mist, upon reaching the Kaedwini camp, friends of yours from Flotsam were detected." "...what friends?" Aemma frowns a bit. "The older knight that came with Ser Ivan, Criston Cole I believe is his name," Phillipa answers, "he was spotted with Vernon Roche and his Blue Stripes, as was the other one, the young handsome looking prince with the long silver blonde hair, discernible cheek bones...and an eye patch."

"...Aemond..."

Chapter 48

#hotd #the witcher #geralt of rivia #oc #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #iorveth #the witcher 2 #phillipa eilhart

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