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kwanisms · 1 year

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The Library of Illusion — The Woodland Guard

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➮ elven guard!Yeosang × fem!Reader wc: 6.9k summary: Of all the places the fantasy section could have taken her, Y/N ends up deep in a dense woodland. While traversing through the trees, she sets off a silent alarm and alerts the Woodland Guard who take her back to their tree house village where she learns they are in the midst of a week-long celebration. Though she's not allowed to join in the festivities, she finds her own fun when an elven guard named Yeosang takes over guarding her cell. genres/themes/au: angst, slight fluff, smut; fantasy, high fantasy; non idol au, elven au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @seonghwalover @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe

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a/n: sorry for this being late, I took an impromptu trip out of town and wasn't really able to focus on writing but I'm back hoke and ready to write again! I really like how this turned out. Initially, I hadn't planned on putting Y/N in a cell. She was originally going to join thr party but I like this direction better. Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. Header and banners made by me. Content and reblog banners made by my with a template made by @cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All my writings are ©️ kwanisms.

smut warnings: fingering (f receiving), edging (f receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it), use of pet names (baby, angel, sweetheart, princess, etc), unrealistic sex (multiple rounds, multiple f orgasms), dirty talk, dacryphilia, overstimulation, cumplay (Yeosang cums on her pussy & pushes some of it inside), and I believe that's all of them! Let me know if I missed anything.

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“You have to hurry.”

You pushed yourself up off the desk. “What are you talking about?” You asked softly, watching the way Seonghwa hesitated before turning to look at you.

“There isn’t much time left,” Seonghwa said again. “Not much time left for what?” you asked. “I didn’t think you’d take this long to get through the guardians,” Seonghwa started to explain. “You only have a small window to escape this place,” he added.

“A small window? What does that mean?” you asked again.

Seonghwa sighed, shaking his head. “From the moment you step foot into the Library, you’ve had exactly three days to get out,” Seonghwa continued, holding a hand up when he noticed you opening your mouth. “It’s been just over a day and a half since you entered this place,” he added.

‘A day and a half?’ you asked yourself. ‘How could it have been only a day and a half?’

“How?” you whispered. “How has it been only a day and a half?”

Seonghwa must have been waiting for this question.

“Time moves slowly once you enter the sections,” he explained. “Time in there progresses as normal but out here, it slows down. Almost to a crawl.”

You tried to wrap your brain around what he was saying.

“Like… a time vortex?”

Seonghwa nodded. “Exactly,” he replied. “Like a time vortex. You enter a section and time out here almost freezes until you return,” he added.

You looked around as you absorbed his words before an idea popped into your head.

“What about you?”

Seonghwa, who had turned away, turned back to look at you. “What about me?”

You gestured to him. “When time slows down here,” you started. “Does that mean you slow down too?”

A small smirk spread across Seonghwa’s face. ‘Uh-oh.’

“No,” he answered plainly. “I’m not a mortal. I’m not bound to your mortal time constraints. I can move about as freely as if time hadn't slowed down.”

You nodded quickly. “Right,” you answered. “I keep forgetting you aren’t human.”

The smirk on Seonghwa’s face spread. “If you keep forgetting, you’ll come to regret it.”

You looked up quickly to meet his gaze, his eyes flashing the same red color as they had before. There was something inherently dangerous about him but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“We’re wasting time,” Seonghwa said suddenly, turning away from you. “You have two doors left to choose from,” he explained. “Fantasy and adventure,” he continued before turning to look at you over his shoulder.

“Which do you want to visit first?”

Pondering on it for a brief moment, you settled on visiting the fantasy section first, looking up at the glowing purple sign above the door as Seonghwa moved to unlock it.

Turning the knob, Seonghwa opened the door for you. “Fantasy isn’t all fairytales and happy endings,” he started to say as you walked past him, stopping when he reached out to grab your arm.

You looked up to meet his gaze once more, the red gone and replaced with the usual blackness of his eyes you’d grown accustomed to.

“Fantasy is sometimes just as dark, if not more, dark than horror.”

His words were meant to be a warning but you couldn’t help smiling at him.

“I’ve faced aliens, spider monsters, bloodthirsty advisors, and criminals,” you explained. “I think I can handle what’s in here.”

Seonghwa hesitantly let go of your arm. “Just take care and tread with caution.”

You nodded and continued into the hall, not bothering to turn back as you heard the soft click of the door shutting behind you.

The dark and dusty aisle was lined with the usual wooden shelves full of books and papers as you walked, pulling your flashlight out to turn it on. The light barely illuminated the path before you but as you walked, you noticed the moment the wood started to disappear into damp soil.

‘Another cave?’

Continuing on, you noticed how the shape of the hall had become circular, the walls now packed soil as you kept walking, kicking small rocks and bits of dirt.

You noticed that the floor started sloping upwards and soon, you could see light filtering in where the tunnel seemed to turn upwards, almost like a—

“Is this a burrow?” you asked no one in particular. It seemed to fit the criteria and you suddenly were afraid of what kind of animal lived in this burrow.

Upon reaching the end of the tunnel, you glanced up and noticed the light peeking in from what you could only assume was the opening of the tunnel. You started to climb, grabbing onto roots sticking out of the dirt.

Climbing and clawing your way up the side of the tunnel, you got closer and closer to the opening until you finally pulled yourself out of the opening, blinking in the bright light of the sun filtering through the tops of the trees.

As your eyes adjusted to the light, you looked around, noticing that you were in some sort of forest.

Unlike the dense jungle of the Science Fiction section, this was an ancient forest with twisted trees, thick brush that sprung up out of the leaf littered ground. The trees were old with many roots that dug into the ground and disappeared.

Getting up, you glanced back and saw you had crawled out of a gap between the roots at the base of a massive tree with a gnarled and bent trunk. The tree extended up into the sky above you, the branches spreading out to cover the area with a massive canopy of leaves.

Sunlight filtered through the canopy as a breeze caused the leaves to sway and dance. Tearing your gaze away from the treetops, you peered around the area once more, wondering which way you should go.

Deciding it would be best to start forward, you did just that, scrambling over roots, broken branches, and half buried boulders as you looked for any sign of life or the key.

Continuing on your way, you came across a deep cut in the forest floor where a river raged a good 20 feet below. Glancing back and forth, you noticed a massive fallen log serving as a natural bridge and made your way over to it. The center of the log had been hollowed out, creating almost a covered bridge.

Each step took you further and further from the rabbit hole you’d emerged from and deeper into the thick forest.

As you walked, you could hear the sound of nature all around you. Bird song and the sound of bugs. Even the deep croak of frogs could be heard as you stumbled along. As you looked around instead of ahead, the toe of your boot caught on a stone and you tripped, stumbling into a tree trunk which you used to steady yourself and find your footing again.

“Way to go, grace,” you mumbled to yourself. “Walk much?”

Looking down, you noticed your clothes were covered in dirt, no doubt from the climb up the tunnel and you quickly brushed yourself off.

Once you were satisfied you’d knocked most of the dirt loose, you continued down an unmarked path, a strong breeze blowing overhead, the branches swaying and creaking above you as you stopped to look up.

The air seemed to change and even some of the sounds of the forest ceased. ‘Oh god,’ you said to yourself. ‘Not again.’

As you came to a halt, you listened closely for the sound of anything you hadn’t heard before. Hearing nothing, you decided to continue on but stopped once again when you heard a loud snap followed by a light thundering sound.

Looking up, you jumped back just in time as a dark shape dropped from a tree above you, landing on the ground before you and standing straight up. Your eyes widened as you looked at the figure, which was joined by two more, surrounding you on three sides, trapping you.

Your heart hammered as you looked around at them, taking in their features. Stoic expressions, unparalleled beauty and… wait, are those pointed ears?

‘Are they… elves?’

Your question was answered when one of the figures turned his head to speak to the person next to him, showcasing his pointed ears. ‘Yep. That’s an elf alright.’

You watched as they spoke amongst themselves in a language you couldn’t pick up. It was unlike anything you’d heard but at the same time, it sounded very familiar. ‘Is that elvish?’

You watched in awe as they spoke with one another before one of the elves turned to look at you. The elves before you were all beautiful of course, but there was something about this elf in particular that seemed to take your breath away.

He was more beautiful than the others. He had silky black hair that fell in soft waves, barely reaching his shoulders. His eyes were dark brown and despite the piercing stare he gave you, his eyes were soft.

“Who are you?” A different elf, one with blond locks, asked suddenly. You were surprised as you shifted your attention to look at him. “I’m just passing through,” you answered. “I got lost in this forest.”

One of the elves, a brunet with long straight hair, exchanged glances with the blond but the one with black hair kept his eyes on you. “We should just get rid of her,” the blond said softly but still loud enough for you to hear.

‘Get rid of me?’

The brunet shook his head. “Can we even do that without orders?” The blond shrugged his shoulders. “Who cares? She’s just a dumb mortal.”

The raven haired elf finally spoke up and you could have sworn you died and went to heaven. He sounded like an angel.

“No,” he replied softly. “We must take her back.”

The blond groaned, clearly annoyed. “You’re such a killjoy, Yeosang.”

You watched as the whispered amongst themselves before finally turning to look at you. “Can you walk?” the one named Yeosang asked. You nodded silently. “Oh great, she’s mute,” the blond said, rolling his eyes. You furrowed your brow.

“I am not mute,” you snapped back, surprising both the blond and brunet elves.

Yeosang smiled. “That will teach you to rush to conclusions Paeral,” he said, a hint of amusement to his voice. The blond looked annoyed but said nothing. “Since you insist we must take her back, we better get going.”

Yeosang nodded as the other two elves started walking ahead. Yeosang escorted you as more elves brought up the rear. “What is your name?” Yeosang asked as you were led to a stone pathway.

“Y/N,” you replied, scrambling over a massive root and following the path behind the brunet elf. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Yeosang said as he followed closely behind you. “I am Yeosang.”

The walk to the elves home didn’t take long and you were surprised by how close to their kingdom you had been before. Yeosang stayed behind you the entire time, more than once reaching out to steady you as you lost your footing on the uneven path.

“You are not the most graceful,” he noted with a chuckle as he helped you stand once more after you tripped over a stone path piece. You shook your head. “Normally I’m not this clumsy,” you replied. “I swear.”

The walk led you to a large wall made of trees and thick shrubs, standing at least 10 feet tall. A gateway in the trees opened up and you were escorted inside, your head turning every which way to try and see everything you could.

The gates were closed behind and you were suddenly left feeling nervous about your surroundings. You’d been brought to a man of power before though that had been a lord and not a king.

The blond and brunet elves led the way to the base of a thick tree where a spiral staircase began, winding around the trunk of the tree and climbing up. You followed them up, Yeosang bringing up the rear as you climbed higher and higher into the treetops.

The stairs finally stopped, a wooden landing that connected to a wooden rope bridge and led to another walkway. You looked around as you walked, noticing how there was an entire community of wooden walkways and what looked to be treehouses in the canopy.

You continued on, walking from walkway to walkway until you were being led to the largest treehouse, looking up at it with a mixture of apprehension and fear. Inside, you barely had time to adjust to the low lighting and register the interior before you were being led to a pair of elves who sat in ornately carved wooden chairs which you correctly assumed were thrones.

The King and Queen watched you with mild curiosity as the elves leading you knelt down, showing their respect. Feeling like you were sticking out, you bowed quickly, not entirely sure how you were supposed to act.

The bow must have been well received because the king began asking you all sorts of questions, ranging from asking your name and where you came from to how you found yourself in the forest.

You tried to explain everything to the best of your ability without sounding completely insane, opting to leave out the Library of Illusion altogether. Whether or not the King and Queen bought your story was another thing entirely.

“It’s an incredible story to be certain,” the King said, turning his head to look at his Queen who said nothing, merely nodding her head. “Incredible indeed,” she added. “And I don’t believe she is a spy.”

You relaxed slightly, glad they didn’t see you as a spy or a threat. “Still, to be safe, she will be imprisoned for the time being.”

‘Well shit.’

True to their word, the King and Queen had you imprisoned in one of the many treehouse cells. The brunet elf, who you learned was named Falenas, was assigned to keep watch over your cell.

After being led from the King and Queen’s treehouse, you noticed that far below you in the lower treehouses, as well as on the forest floor, a party seemed to be taking place. It took some convincing but finally, you got it out of Falenas.

You sat on the edge of the bed, head in your hands when you heard a voice and looked up.

Through the bars of your cell, which was really just a single room treehouse far from the others, you could see Yeosang speaking to Falenas. After speaking for a small moment, the brunet looked back at you through the bars before turning back to Yeosang and nodded.

You watched as he took off and disappeared while Yeosang take his place.

‘What is happening?’

You got up slowly and walked over to the door. Taking the wooden bars in your hands you leaned against the door and peered out to see Yeosang now sitting in the seat previously occupied by Falenas.

You let out a heavy sigh, drawing his attention. “What are you doing here?” you asked softly, looking at him. “I let him go join the feast,” Yeosang answered softly, turning back to what he was working on when you interrupted him.

“Don’t you want to join the festivities?”

You heard him scoff. “No,” he answered. “I don’t really care for parties.”

You watched him as he stood still, looking away from your door. “Parties aren’t that bad,” you murmured. Yeosang glanced back at you. “I find them dull,” he explained. “An excuse to get drunk and make a fool of oneself.”

You snorted, shaking your head.

Yeosang turned to look back at you. “What’s so funny?”

You looked up, meeting his gaze. “Have you ever been to a party?”

He nodded, looking mildly confused. “You must just be boring,” you said with a shrug. Yeosang scowled. “I am not boring,” he answered. You raised a brow at him. “Not boring, huh?” you asked, leaning against the door, pressing your chest against the bars.

You noticed the way Yeosang’s eyes darted down to look at your chest before back up to your eyes. Had you blinked, you would have missed it.

But you didn’t. ‘Interesting.’

“Can you prove it?”

Your question must have caught him off guard because he blinked at you expressionlessly. “Prove what?” he asked. You rolled your eyes. “Prove you aren’t boring,” you replied. “Pay attention, Yeosang,” you added playfully.

His cheeks turned a soft pink and he turned to look away again. “I have no reason to prove anything to you.”

You sighed heavily. “See? Booorrring~,” you retorted, pretending to yawn. Yeosang looked back at you. “How am I supposed to prove I’m not boring?” he asked, turning to face you, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the outside of your cell.

“Do something unexpected,” you answered. “Something you’d never normally do.” Yeosang watched you, eyes narrowing as he contemplated his options.

He was right, he really had no reason to prove anything to you. He didn’t know you and you didn’t know him. He could just ignore you until the end of time.

Then why did he feel so compelled to prove you wrong? Why did he feel the need to show you he wasn’t boring in the slightest. ‘I can have fun if I want,’ he thought to himself. Eyeing you, Yeosang sighed, pushing himself up from the wall of the cell and pulled the keys from his pocket.

“Get back,” he ordered, taking enjoyment in the shocked look on your face at the sudden gruffness of his voice. “Yes, sir,” you said softly, stepping back a few paces and watching as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

“Uh, I don’t think you’re supposed to be in here,” you said, fighting the urge to smirk as Yeosang looked at you. “They won’t care,” he answered, shutting the door and hanging the keys by the door. “Just don’t make a dash for the door. I’m putting a lot of trust in you right now.”

Sitting down, you leaned back against the mattress as he walked over. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered as the raven-haired elf slowly climbed onto the bed, hovering over you. “I sense you’re being sarcastic,” he said softly. You shook your head.

“No,” you replied. “I’m really not.” Not giving him a chance to reply, you reached up, grabbing the back of his neck and pulled him down, pressing your lips against his. Almost as soon as his lips met yours, his hands were on your body, pulling at your clothes gently.

Your back hit the mattress as he kneeled between your thighs.

“What is this?” he asked, inspecting your shorts. You propped yourself up on your elbows. He was running his thumb over the metal of your zipper. “It’s a zipper,” you explained, causing him to look up at you. “A what?”

“A zipper,” you repeated. “We call it that ‘cause it makes a sound like ‘zip’ when you tug the little pull up or down,” you explained, showing him the little metal zipper pull.

Yeosang leaned over you, forcing you back as his hands made quick work of your shorts, undoing the button and zipper. “For never having seen a zipper before,” you said breathlessly as his lips moved down the side of your neck. “You sure seem to know how they work.”

Yeosang snorted but continued to kiss and nip at the skin of your throat.

His hands pushed your shorts down, groaning when he saw you weren’t wearing anything underneath. “Is it customary for your people to not wear undergarments?” he asked, one hand moving up the inside of your thigh.

“I just forgot them,” you breathed. “Normally I wear them though.”

Yeosang smiled as he moved back to kiss you, lips hovering inches from yours.

“Lucky me,” he murmured before taking you in a messy, rough kiss.

You let out a whimper as you felt his fingers find your clit with expert precision, drawing slow but hard circles against the nub. “Spread your legs,” he mumbled against your lips.

You did as he instructed, spreading your thighs further apart. “And keep them there,” he added in a deep, gruff voice, fingers moving down to tease your entrance. Your hips chased his fingers as he pulled them away.

“Patience,” he muttered when you whined in protest. His fingers were back on your clit, dragging out slow, torturous motions as he watched your face, brow furrowing and your bottom lip being pulled between your teeth.

“There’s no one around us,” he whispered, tips of his fingers dancing back down to your entrance, spreading your wetness. “Let me hear you,” he added.

You let out a long sigh as his fingers sank into your aching core, exploring your velvety walls and curling against the soft gummy spot that had your back arching with each pull.

“That’s it,” he murmured when you let out a moan. “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

Another curl of his fingers had you moaning wantonly, desperate for him to move faster. The slow curling and rubbing was driving you insane. “Faster,” you begged, one hand moving down to grab his hand, your fingers encasing his wrist. “Please move faster.”

Yeosang chuckled in your ear. “Faster? You’re so impatient,” he mumbled, lips brushing against the lobe of your ear. “You want me to draw this out or stop?”

Your eyes shot open. “No, don’t stop!” you protested. Yeosang smirked at your reaction. “Then don’t rush me, Y/N.”

He continued to tease you with torturously slow drags inside your walls, curling his fingers slowly just to watch the way your lips parted as you begged him for more. “The more I tease you,” he said in a husky voice. “The wetter you get.”

“Yeosang, please,” you whimpered, unshed tears sparkling in your eyes.

“It hurts.”

His fingers stilled inside you. “It hurts?” he asked. “I’ve hurt you?”

You shook your head. “No,” you whimpered. “I just need to cum. The pressure,” you explained. “S’too much.”

Without warning, Yeosang’s fingers moved inside you, curling against that same gummy spot with a renewed vigor. The overwhelming intensity of the change in pace caused the previously unshed tears to spill, rolling down your temples.

“Fuck!” you gasped, grabbing his wrist as his fingers worked your cunt open with ferocity. “Since you’re so impatient,” he chuckled, stopping to scissor his fingers inside your wet walls. “I’ll just have to skip oral. When you whine about not getting any, remember that you asked for this.”

You didn’t care at this point. You just wanted his cock inside you. You wanted the tension to snap and for release. You’d been begging for it and he was finally going to give in to your pleas.

Yeosang was quick to rid you of the rest of your clothes, undoing the buttons of your blouse and pushing it off you and throwing it to the ground. “Take this off,” he ordered, tugging on the strap of your bra.

You were quick to do so as he pulled on the fastenings of his own clothes, shrugging off the jacket he wore and causing you to freeze. Whatever you had expected under his clothes was certainly not this.

The guy looked like he was very slender and maybe slightly toned under his clothes but what sat before you now was an extremely toned body, throwing your completely off guard as Yeosang's hands moved to undo the ties of his pants.

He looked up, noticing your frozen posture and glanced down before looking back up. “What?” he asked. “Something wrong?”

You shook your head and quickly rid yourself of your bra as he finally undid the last fastening of his pants and let them drop to the floor. Your eyes wandered of their own accord, taking in his physique. He looked incredible before the clothes came off but afterwards, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out, your fingers brushing against his toned stomach.

“You…” you trailed off, missing the amused smile on his face. “You’re like… jacked, holy shit,” you whispered. Yeosang tilted his head curiously. “What’s jacked?” You glanced up from your position to meet his gaze.

“It’s like saying someone is ripped,” you explained. You watched as his head tilted in the opposite direction, almost like a puppy which would have been humorous had you not been aching to have his cock inside you.

“Muscular,” you finally answered, eyes glancing down to his cock. You had to resist the urge to groan from the sight alone. It wasn’t the largest you’d taken but it was still an impressive size and girth. Your hand moved from his stomach, fingers wrapping around the shaft carefully.

Yeosang’s eyes fluttered shut, lips parting in a soft gasp as you started working your hand along his length. You pulled your hand back before spitting into it and resuming the same stroking motions, watching his face.

“What’s wrong?” you murmured, a smirk forming on your face. “You were so eager to have your cock inside me before,” you continued, slowing your hand and watching the way his chest heaved with each labored breath.

“What happened?”

Something snapped inside Yeosang. One second he was completely at your mercy the next he had you on your back, thighs spread as he kneeled between them, taking his cock in his hand and guiding the tip to your waiting core.

“I’ll make you regret those words,” he said in a low voice, looking up from where your bodies were about to meet to lock you in a heated gaze. “We’ll see,” you retorted, a smirk still on your face.

Yeosang held your gaze as he slowly sank his cock into your wet cunt. You broke first, eyes rolling back as he sank his entire length into you, your walls fluttering as they hugged him in.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, feeling his cock deep inside.

“You should probably hold on,” Yeosang said, his voice slightly strained. You opened your eyes to look up at him. “Why?” His expression morphed into a smirk.

“Once I start,” he began, pulling back to give you a shallow thrust. The feeling of his cock dragging against your walls slowly had your toes curling. “I won’t stop until we’ve both cum.”

Without another word or warning, Yeosang pushed your thighs against your stomach, rolling his hips and setting a heavy, relentless pace. Each thrust had his cock brushing against your sweet spot, the same spot he’d mercilessly teased earlier while fingering you.

It was clear he knew what he was doing, angling his thrusts for that spot specifically. “Holy shit, Yeosang!” you moaned, back arching as your first orgasm approached. The tension that had been building up to this moment finally came crashing down as you came with a loud moan, walls fluttering around the elf’s cock. He simply smirked down at you as he fucked you through your high.

You finally opened your eyes, breath shuddering as you made eye contact.

“I told you to hold on, Y/N,” he said. “You’re in for a long night.”

He somehow managed to pull more orgasms out of you, leaving you breathless and weak as he rolled you onto your back. “I’m so tired,” you whimpered. Yeosang leaned over your back, pressing soft kisses to your cheek. “Do you want to stop, love?”

You shook your head. “You haven’t cum yet,” you answered. Yeosang chuckled lightly, pressing a couple more kisses to your cheek before moving to kneel between your spread thighs.

“Lift your hips for me, angel,” he said softly. You shakily pushed yourself up enough for Yeosang to shove something soft under your stomach and prop your ass up. “This should be more comfortable,” he murmured as he scooted closer.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he added as he ran his hands over your ass and up to grab your hips. “Okay,” you breathed as you felt the head of his cock push into you, making you groan. “Just lie still for me, princess,” he murmured, taking your hips in his hands.

He resumed the same relentless and unforgiving pace from before, making you wonder where his stamina and self control came from. From behind, his cock dove even deeper than before. Your fingers curled into the sheets, burying your face in the linens as Yeosang pounded into you from behind.

Your moans and whimpers were muffled, allowing you to hear Yeosang’s groans and grunts. “Feels so good,” you heard him groan. “I could fuck you all night.”

You cried out as he thrusted a little harder. “Let me hear you, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “There’s no one around us.” You raised your head slightly, moans slipping out with each thrust, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the hut.

Your walls clenched around him as you came again with a keen, toes curling and fingers digging into the sheets. He didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you through it. “Y-Yeosang,” you sobbed, tears starting to spill from your eyes.

“Does it feel good?” Yeosang asked, voice breathless as he slowed his thrusts to rolls. You nodded, whimpering with each roll. “S-so good!” you moaned. “You gonna cum for me again?” Yeosang asked as you tried to shy away from his strokes, overstimulation taking a hold.

“I c-can’t Y-Yeosang,” you whined. “S’too much.”

Yeosang let out a little huff. “Do you want to stop?”

You shook your head again. “Don’t stop!”

Taking your confirmation, Yeosang resumed thrusting hard and fast, making you gasp and cry out. Your moans turned into screams of pleasure, tears still falling down your face. “Fuck, shit, oh god,” you cursed as another orgasm crashed over you, your thighs shaking as your walls squeezed and hugged Yeosang’s cock.

“That’s it,” you heard him grunt. “Keep doing that, baby.”

If you had been counting, you would have realized you reached a threshold of orgasms. Yeosang had given you sixteen orgasms, which was more than the previous guardians combined.

It wasn’t until you were crying, tears streaming down your face and screaming that he delivered your final orgasm before finally giving in to his own pleasure and chasing his high, cumming on your swollen pussy.

You whimpered as he used two fingers to push some of his cum inside your walls ‘for safe keeping’ he jokingly said. You tried to move but found your legs wouldn’t respond. Yeosang noticed and immediately reached around to lift your hips and pull the cushion out from under you, tossing it aside and lowering you to the bed.

You whined, wanting to roll onto your back but found you had no strength.

Yeosang heard your whines and chuckled softly. “Here,” he whispered. “Let me help.”

He rolled you carefully onto your back. “You need to sleep,” he whispered, leaning over to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I can’t sleep,” you murmured. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?” Yeosang contemplated for a moment before giving in.

“I will stay.”

You passed out not long after and woke up to find you weren’t the only one asleep. Sometime after you passed out, Yeosang had cleaned you up and put your clothes back on and had also managed to dress himself.

You looked around, eyes landing on his ring of keys hanging by the door. ‘Perfect,’ you thought to yourself as you carefully got up, glancing back to make sure Yeosang was still asleep. He was fast asleep, looking so peaceful and serene that you almost felt bad for leaving.

Almost.

Tiptoeing over, you took the keys off the wall as quietly as you could. Your eyes caught a glimpse of something that stood out on the ring and you smiled, realizing that Yeosang was indeed the Guardian as he carried the special key with an insignia for the fantasy section.

You removed the key and used the cell key to let yourself out. Closing the door, you reached in between the bars to hang it back up, glancing back to make sure the coast was clear.

Before you could withdraw your hand, a set of fingers closed around your wrist, making you jump and turn back to the door. Yeosang had a hold of your wrist, glaring at you. “What are you doing?” he hissed as you tried to pull free.

“I have to get back to my world,” you whispered. “I came for this,” you added, holding up the key. Yeosang’s eyes narrowed upon looking at the key in your hands. “That’s why you seduced me?” You looked up at him.

“I did not seduce you,” you replied. “You flirted with me and came into my cell. Just because I wanted it doesn’t mean I seduced you,” you added.

“If anything, you seduced me.”

Yeosang opened his mouth to retort but froze, realization dawning on his face.

“You’re right,” he finally said. He slowly let go of your wrist. “If you’re going to get out of here,” he added. “I’ll take you.” You nodded, watching as he pulled the keys down and let himself out.

“Where do you need to go?”

You wracked your brain before remembering the tunnel. “Do you know the giant tree with the burrow in the base?”

Yeosang nodded. “We call that Wyrm Burrow,” he explained. “That’s where you need to go?” You nodded. “That’s where I came from,” you answered.

The look on Yeosang’s face was a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “If I had more time, I’d explain,” you said, taking his hand. “But I really don’t have the time. If I don’t get back to my own world, I may never get home.”

Yeosang nodded, taking a firm hold on your hand and dragged you away from the hut, taking a different path than the one you were led in. “There’s a back way out of the village,” he explained as you peered over the railing to the forest floor where the celebration you’d heard earlier was raging on.

Yeosang led you to a set of stairs that spiraled down a tree, keeping a firm hold on your hand as you reached the base of the steps. You watched as he looked around before hurrying to hide behind a tree, dragging you with him.

You made your way from tree to tree until you reached the back wall separating the village from the forest around it. Yeosang pulled back a hidden door, pushing you towards it.

“Follow this path. When you reach the fork, go right. Then when you see the deer statue, turn left off the path and walk straight back. You’ll find the Burrow,” he whispered. “I cannot come with you. I have to cover for you.”

You took his hand as he looked away before looking back to meet your gaze.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

Yeosang grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you into a passionate kiss.

“If I had my way, I’d never let you leave,” he said after pulling back, handing you a small light. “Now go!”

He gave you a little shove before the hidden door fell into place, leaving you standing in the dark forest.

Despite the feeling in your stomach, you forced yourself to follow his directions, taking the path and keeping to the walkway until you finally reached the fork in the path like he said. Taking the right path, you continued, keeping your eye out for the statue he mentioned.

It took several minutes but you finally spotted it and turned to the left. The wood was dark, a light mist settling over the ground. ‘No turning back now.’

You started into the thicket, climbing over fallen trees and thick roots that twisted like snakes and disappeared into the dirt.

Leaves and twigs crunched under your feet as you walked, following the straight path you’d set on until the big tree finally came into view. “Finally,” you wheezed as you sped up, clambering over the logs and stones until you reached the base of the thick, gnarled trunk.

The hole at the base was dark and uninviting as you peered in, using the light to look around. As carefully as you could, you lowered yourself into it and slid to the bottom of the tunnel with a mild scream.

Once at the bottom, you got up, dusting yourself off and started the long trek back to the door. As you walked, you could hear a ringing in the distance and turned around to look behind you. As far as you could see, the tunnel was empty but the light only allowed you to look back so far.

You continued on, pressing forward and ignoring the piercing ringing in your ears.

‘Probably just the silence,’ you figured.

At least until you heard the rumbling shift and the ground beneath your feet shook. You tried to keep your balance as a mini quake shook the tunnel, dirt falling from the ceiling. “Okay,” you murmured as the quake subsided and you steadied yourself.

“Time to go!”

You hurried as fast as you could, not wanting to run and risk a cave in. As you walked, the soft thump of your feet on the dirt turned into a thud as you stepped into the wooden floor and you breathed a sigh of relief.

It only took a couple more minutes to reach the door and before you could open it, it opened before you. Seonghwa pulled you through the door, dragging you out of the tunnel and pushing you aside before slamming the door.

When he dragged you into the room, you’d lost your balance and fallen to your knees, the key falling from your hand and clattering across the stone floor.

“What is your problem!?” you shouted as you looked up at him. Seonghwa turned to look down at you, mildly surprised you were shouting at him.

“What’s my problem?” he asked. “Did you not see that thing following you?”

He held up a hand to silence you before you could speak. “No, don’t answer that,” he said suddenly. “Obviously you didn’t see it,” he continued, stepping over you and kneeling down to pick up the key. “If you had, I wouldn’t have needed to rescue you.”

You glanced over your shoulder at the door, the illuminated sign now off. You looked back to Seonghwa as he inspected the key before turning to look at you. He stood up straight and walked over, stopping just before you.

“Here,” he said softly, offering his hand. You looked up at him before taking it. He pulled you to your feet easily. “Are you alright?”

You nodded silently. “Good,” Seonghwa said, turning away and climbing the steps up to the desk where he placed the key next to the others, leaving one empty space.

You turned your head to look at the last Guardian door before you could finally access the restricted section and be free from the Library.

“I think I don’t need to ask where you want to go next,” Seonghwa said as he watched you walk over to the door.

You turned back as he walked over, pulling out the keys and unlocking the door.

“The final Guardian,” he said, hesitating. “Are you sure about this?”

You nodded, looking up to meet his gaze.

“Just open the door.”

#cultofdionysusnet #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez x reader #yeosang scenarios #yeosang imagines #yeosang fanfic #yeosang angst #yeosang smut #yeosang x reader #series: library of illusion

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cadere-art · 1 year

Photo

A collection of theropods.

Lesser spotted owlcat, a small, semiarboreal nocturnal predator. Like other owlcats, they hunt by ambush, targeting primarily birds and other flighted small prey.

Bell runner, a goose-sized dromaeosaur which favors small prey and insects. Although they do not hunt in packs, they are social and groups of bell runners can often be seen hunting together in grazed fields.

Bedejou, a large allosaurid native to the open, dry woodland straddling the Zaroub and the Great Lakes basin. The white rings around their eyes grant them a stare that legends describe as petrifying.

Antiole, a species of sapient theropods, the only sapient species of this setting. Antioles are true omnivores and highly social, forming complex societies with a wide variety of languages, social norms, and cultural practices.

#tritone #spec bio #speculative biology #worldbuilding #paleoart #ish #antiole world #antiole #owlcat #dromaeosaur #allosaurus #theropod

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cuffmeinblack · 10 months

Text

Career Perks

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader (Ominis pov with she/her)

3k words. Accompanying audio.

Summary: Ominis' career leaves little room for excitement or challenge, but his unique brand of legilimency makes for a more interesting job when he finds himself in the company of a lonely witch.

A/n: This is a sort-of sequel to Legilimens where his skill has made him bitter and jaded. Also just random stalking and hunting for shits and giggles I guess.

Ominis enjoyed his job as much as the next wizard, but lately he felt…unchallenged. Most of his clients were small businesses and affluent households who required some extra security on their properties, meaning Ominis would throw up the same wards and shields he did day in, day out, every day. Rarely did he sink his teeth into anything different, a large event or complex case. Whilst the staleness of his chosen career could be somewhat disappointing at times, his job did have certain perks. He'd made his own entertainment over the years, honing other skills amongst the drudgery.

His unique brand of legilimency came in useful, though years of hearing others' thoughts, whether intentionally or not, had made him somewhat jaded. He'd learned early on that most people were liars, the words they uttered in direct contrast to their judgemental thoughts. To his shock, he'd also found that the most common thoughts that seeped into his were of the more amorous kind. With years of practice, he found himself less likely to accidentally probe someone else's mind when concentrating on their voice, but sometimes the lure was too strong to resist dipping his toe into the murky waters of their consciousness.

Ominis had arrived at his most recent client's manor with the intention of keeping his curiosity behind lock and key—it had been causing too much trouble of late. The wizard who had hired him was influential; a politician with a good family name and heaps of ill-gotten gold lining his pockets. He'd paid upfront, requesting the very best magical protection and citing a need to protect his family; from what, he didn't venture, but Ominis had been in this game long enough to make an educated guess that he'd gotten mixed up with the wrong sort. He even wondered whether his dear brother was somehow involved.

The manor was an impressive building with gardens and woodland surrounding it, and very isolated. His smart shoes crunched along the gravel path as he approached, his wand making him aware of the vastness of his surroundings. He'd expected a servant, perhaps a house elf to answer the door when he rang the bell, but instead he was greeted warmly by a woman who's tone and well-spoken manner indicated her status as lady of the household.

"Mr Gaunt, hello. Please come in."

Ominis gave his best smile, the one he knew would charm her and put her at ease. Walking into the hallway, the echo of the hard floor underneath his heels pointed to the grandiosity of the estate. No doubt it was lavishly decorated by the woman standing next to him.

"Thank you," Ominis replied with a dip of his head.

"My husband is away on business but I can direct you to anywhere you need to go," she said sweetly. "Would you like a cup of tea whilst you work?"

Well, he was never one to turn down tea.

"Yes, please. I'll start on the external wards."

She departed, heels clicking and dress swishing, leaving Ominis alone with his thoughts. His wand was already out, so he started the basic defensive spells…Muggle repelling charm…intruder charm… The mundanity was interrupted by the return of his host. The waft of tea hit his nose and he perked up as he noticed the Darjeeling blend amongst the clattering of china.

"Do you not have a house elf?"

"No, I don't agree with keeping a…slave," she replied, somewhat bitterly.

Curious.

"So you take on all of the domestic tasks by yourself? It can't be an easy feat," he replied, gesturing to the house.

"Unfortunately, yes. I never intended for this to be my life."

Ominis suppressed a smirk; that would have been inappropriate, of course. These trapped housewitches were often the product of bad decisions and unhappy marriages. He sipped his tea as he heard her do the same, using the distraction to concentrate on the sound of her gentle slurping. There she was. She had a powerful magical aura, wasted in a place like this. Ominis reached out, finding her thoughts laid bare, ripe for perusing—she clearly hadn't expected his invasion, her guard was down, as they always were.

"Lovely tea," he commented.

"Thank you, I make my own blend."

Of course you do. The thoughts at the forefront of her mind were nothing to do with the beverage, in fact they were nothing short of scandalous. Oh, these housewitches had such lewd fantasies. She knew exactly who he was, and her daydreams reflected her particular wants. The wet slaps that filled his mind and her salacious moans were rather distracting, but Ominis continued to sip his tea and nod along to her occasional commentary. Every whispered command that he uttered in her mind had her keening, and the twitch in his trousers was a very real consequence.

"The wards are done," he said, draining the last of his drink and placing it on the table beside him. "Nobody can get in or out until I lift them. Not you, nor your husband."

The last few words were laced with insinuation, and her fantasy ended abruptly, her thoughts scrambling and fearful.

"Wha-?"

Ominis moved quickly, his body pressing her into the table behind her, hand around her neck as her teacup fell to the floor with a crash of breaking china. Her hand went to her wand, but Ominis had already thrown it to the floor.

"This is what you wanted, wasn't it?" he asked.

"He's going to kill me," her first thought.

"I won't hurt you, not if you do as I say. If you obey me, I'll give you exactly what you want."

"Why…?" she whispered weakly, and Ominis loosened the grip on her throat.

"Because I've heard your thoughts, and I'm most curious…," he whispered into her ear.

She could have used his slackened grip to attempt to break free, but she didn't, only writhed between his body and the furniture behind her. Her pulse pounded against his fingers and warm, hastened breath brushed his cheek, prompting a dark surge of hunger and a throbbing swell of his cock.

"Take me," her second thought.

Ominis cast a silent summoning charm on her wand, tucking it into his unused holster.

"Run."

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me."

The second teacup crashed to the floor as Ominis relented his grasp around her neck and she fell back against the table. She scrambled, and he listened to her frantic footfalls as she ran, her terrified thoughts fading as the connection to her mind broke. She seemed to be unsure just what his intentions were, but the faint flicker of excitement told him all he needed to know about this particular witch.

"Homenum Revelio."

Ominis muttered the incantation, his wand guiding him in her vague direction. He walked quickly, but she really had nowhere to go as long as his charms held. She was fast, always moving along the winding corridors that made up the large manor house. So many bedrooms and drawing rooms, and nowhere to hide.

Ominis concentrated once again on the creak of the floorboards and receding footsteps in front of him until he found her. She was too far away to be able to use his legilimency, but now he'd probed her mind once before, her presence stuck out like a sore thumb—it was almost another sense, like a familiar scent that he could follow. His heart raced as he stalked through the house, adrenaline pumping, providing the excitement that his job couldn't.

"I've heard what you want me to do to you," Ominis called.

No reply.

"Tell me—do you kiss your husband with that mouth? The obscenities that spilled from it shocked even me, and I'm far from chaste."

Ominis threw up more detection charms, getting closer as she slowed—intentionally, he was sure. His ears remained pricked for any movement, when he heard her inhale before shouting an incantation.

"Expelliarmus!"

Ominis shielded himself just in time, her wandless but nevertheless powerful spell glancing off the protective sphere. There was the feisty witch he'd sensed below the delicate façade. A devilish grin crossed his face as she broke into a run again and he followed. The slam and click of a door up ahead echoed through the hallway, and Ominis smirked through heavy breaths. He knocked on the door, the gesture absurd, but it got her attention.

"Leave, and I'll not tell anyone about this."

Ominis pressed his ear against the wood, his fingers sliding around the door knob as he held his wand steady.

"I don't think you want me to leave," he replied, unlocking the door with but a simple unlocking charm.

He'd half expected a barrage of wandless magic aimed at him, but then again he'd half expected not. She was waiting, silently, except the ragged breaths that filled the large room. Ominis kept a shield up, but his wand sensed no danger from the situation.

"Is this your bedroom?" he asked.

"Yes," came her breathy voice.

He dropped his shield and walked towards her, following the sound and reaching out with his mind once again.

"You led me here."

She remained quiet, but she confirmed it for him anyway. Into her mind he delved again, not bothering to be careful or inconspicuous as he waded through her present jumbled thoughts and tore into her memories. He saw every bad decision ever made, the regret and longing of a woman trapped, walking in the shadow of a man utterly undeserving of her.

"You want me to take you here, where your husband sleeps? Of all the rooms in this vast house?" he asked, his fingers finally making contact with her.

She hadn't attempted to conceal the reason she'd stopped running. Knelt at the foot of the bed, she let his hands roam over her lightly-clothed shoulder, the delicate silk blouse leaving every curve free to caress. She gasped as he once again skimmed her neck, his hand continuing its journey to her face. Her lips were plump, and as his thumb brushed against them he felt her warm breath that stuttered as he started to unbuckle his belt.

His digit parted her lips, slipping inside her warm and inviting mouth as she sighed and allowed the invasion. His cock twitched again in anticipation of filling her mouth, his barely disguised arousal springing free from his trousers as the last of the fastenings fell away.

"Open your mouth for me, darling," Ominis whispered.

She did as she was told, her hands tentatively gripping his thighs as Ominis felt her jaw slacken against his fingers. He muttered a praise as he lined himself up with her inviting lips, pushing the tip of his cock inside her waiting mouth. Perfect. Her tongue eagerly met him with a swirl around his head and he groaned, lacing his fingers through her soft hair that he just now realised hung loose and smelled pleasantly of vanilla.

He tightened his grip as she took more of him, guiding her head with a rhythm that sent his head spinning. Though muffled, her moans filled his ears amongst the sounds of her exuberant sucking. She felt fantastic, a little sloppy perhaps, but she more than made up for it with her enthusiasm. Whether or not the enthusiasm was genuine or a product of his threat, he didn't much care.

Ominis sighed softly as her head bobbed back and forth, deciding to move along to what she'd really wanted from him. He pulled her hair back a little harder than was necessary, her mouth popping off his length and causing a yelp of pain. A rush of affirmation flooded her thoughts, spilling into Ominis' as his control over his legilimency weakened, and he smirked down at her before lowering his head to meet her in a greedy kiss. Her tongue met his, firm and demanding, the taste of tea still lingering.

"Such a lovely mouth," Ominis praised as they parted, relinquishing the hold on her hair. "Now, strip."

"What are you going to do?" she asked shakily over the rustle of fabric.

"Exactly what you wanted of me the moment I stepped through that door."

Ominis stroked her face gently as she undressed, and when she wriggled out of her underwear he got to work on ridding himself of his own bottoms. His pulse raced and cock throbbed with need, desperately wanting to hear her keening again, flooding his ears and not just his mind.

"How do I compare to your filthy thoughts?" he asked, pushing her back onto the bed.

"You're…better. Much better," she sighed.

He positioned himself between her legs, running his hands over her soft skin pricked with goosebumps and towards his prize. She was already squirming by the time he pressed his fingers to her entrance, dipping a digit inside the well of slick arousal.

"Such a naughty witch."

She whimpered, her walls fluttering around his finger, pulling an amused chuckle from his throat. Retreating slightly, he dragged his finger between her folds and found her swollen clit, eliciting another pathetic whine as he began rubbing circles around the nub.

"You really are so needy," Ominis chided. "How long since you've been touched?"

"A while," she replied meekly. "Fuck…"

"There's that filthy mouth I've heard."

Ominis moved his hand faster, listening to her sweet moans as his hips instinctively rocked, his erection rubbing on the bed sheet and providing barely enough relief. He couldn't control his urges forever, and his patience was wearing thinner by the second, no matter how lovely the noises she made. His fingers left her clit to a protesting whine, delving back into her soaking wet entrance.

"P-please don't stop."

"Ah, no, I'm afraid your fantasies were quite specific about how you wanted to come undone."

Ominis pumped his hand, rougher than was needed as his lust threatened to overcome his waning self restraint. Once he slipped a third finger inside her, he knelt up on the mattress before withdrawing his hand and dragging her along the sheets by her thighs towards him.

"Shit!"

He was frenzied, rock hard and aching for her cunt. With no more than a flick over her clit with the tip of his cock as warning, he pushed inside her to the sound of her wails and the sting of nails scraping down his back. Ominis growled his feigned disapproval, seating himself deep inside her as his head dipped to the crook of her neck and kissed up towards her ear. He started thrusting, and his breath almost deserted him.

She felt incredible, as if she were made for him, and the way she gripped him felt as if she were clinging onto him with the intention of never letting go. Ominis moaned and muttered praises in her ear as a string of expletives dripped from her lips with every roll of his hips.

"Harder, fuck!"

"So needy," Ominis said, though what left his mouth was a high pitched hiss that made her wail and scream his name.

That's what she'd wanted, in her sick little fantasy of being ruined by the heir of Slytherin. Not a particularly inventive one, but he was happy to indulge when the product was such a beautiful cacophony of moans. He continued whispering parseltongue against her neck as he attacked her skin with his teeth and hands groped greedily at every soft handful of flesh he could reach. Her curves were truly delicious, and the smack he delivered to her backside as she drew her legs up reverberated around the huge room and only spurred him on. Faster and harder he fucked her, until she was practically hysterical.

The way she gripped his cock, he knew she was close and his own release was imminent. His arms shook as he lifted himself, kneeling above her and gripping her waist to pull her down deeper onto his cock. Ominis moaned as the tension built to unbearable levels, still continuing to pound into her relentlessly in the new position.

"Oh shit…oh fuck…"

She could only manage garbled words and to dig her fingers painfully into his thighs as her body turned limp. Ominis placed a hand on her abdomen, groaning as he felt his cock hitting her deep under his palm.

"Come for me," Ominis hissed, unable to hold back his own release any longer.

He wasn't sure who succumbed first, but as Ominis let his load spill inside her, he felt her contract around his length, teasing out ropes of cum with every pulse of her orgasm. They sighed and moaned together, his thrusts slowing and eventually dying as they came off their highs and the pleasure made way for the realisation of what had occurred.

Ominis' face fell back into neutrality, pulling his flaccid cock from her with a squelch. He worked quickly, scooping up his wand and cleaning the mess before redressing and throwing her wand from his holster into the bed.

"Was that okay?" she spluttered.

He almost laughed, that she were so eager to secure his approval after what he'd put her through.

"Get showered and dressed. I'll wait."

She mumbled something incoherent but slid off the bed and padded to the ensuite bathroom. Ominis heard the lock of the door and running water, only just disguising the soft sobs emanating from the room. He had no time to fuss over her emotional wellbeing, he had work to do—with careful and deliberate flicks of his wand, he removed the wards that trapped her in the house, recasting the protective enchantments just as he'd been requested to do. He even made the bed.

By the time she'd returned to the bedroom, he told her to dry her hair and make sure she was properly presented, not using the exact words to ask her to stop crying. In silence he led her back to the hallway where the shattered teacups lay, fixed with a simple Reparo. There could be nothing left out of the ordinary.

"What should we do now…," she directed towards him, unease in her voice.

She was panicking. Ominis didn't give her time to finish her sentence, pointing his wand at her and twisting his wrist slowly in the air.

"Obliviate."

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt smut #ominis gaunt x oc

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clangenrising · 26 days

Text

Month 15 - Newleaf

Battle With Razor Pt 1

Goldenstar sat alone in a small dip in the woods where the trees parted around the remnants of a very old, rotted tree trunk. Eyes closed, she took a deep, slow breath of the pungent, mulchy air and strained her ears to try and hear any movement within the forest around her. She didn’t like how much the trees and the spongy earth dampened every sound further away than a fox-length and stifled the breeze.

It was early morning, pre-dawn, and the forest birds were just starting to sing. Goldenstar couldn’t hear much else and it made her stomach twist nervously. She knew that was the point, that the cats hidden in the trees were supposed to be undetectable to anyone in the clearing but she couldn’t help but worry that they had all gone missing for some reason, that they wouldn’t come to her aid when she needed them.

That’s not gonna happen, she reminded herself. Just stay calm. You’re doing this for Scorch.

Taking Razor out of play would benefit everyone, obviously, but Scorch was the cat who kept coming back to mind. For her, for her, for her, she told herself over and over as the twilight inched slowly towards the morning. She reminded herself of the pawprints Razor had left all over her beloved and readied herself for the fight of her life.

The sound of a cat bounding through the trees in her direction pulled her from her thoughts. Springing easily around the roots and stones of the woodland, Orangestar came running from the direction of the thunderpath with her tail arched worriedly behind her. For the purpose of their ruse, she was serving as Goldenstar’s second and had been waiting on the edge of the forest to guide Razor and the other rogues into the trap. Goldenstar frowned and stood to meet her.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“They’re nearly here,” Orangestar said, pupils wide, breath scarce. “A lot more than just two.”

“More than we have?” Goldenstar whispered urgently.

Orangestar paused, glanced over her shoulder, then said, “Um, I don’t think so.” She swallowed and crouched down to try and catch her breath.

“Then it will be alright,” Goldenstar said, standing up to her full height in anticipation. “We were planning for this, remember? StarClan will see us to victory.” Somehow, with a more nervous cat there, she managed to believe it this time.

“Yeah, okay,” Orangestar said, nodding to herself. She let out a long breath and then moved to stand just behind Goldenstar. She could see cats moving through the trees now, hear the jingling of multiple bell collars. The crowd of cats wasn’t making any attempt to mask their presence. Suddenly, Goldenstar understood Orangestar’s jumpiness. No matter how many cats she knew were hiding just out of sight, the war party advancing steadily on her position was intimidating to say the least.

There were at least two dozen cats, maybe three, about a third of them obviously kittypets. Clearly, they were anticipating significant resistance. Most all of them were toms, many with scarred faces or torn ears, some with the distinctive notch of the Chaff. They loomed hungrily out of the trees, eyes glinting fiercely, teeth flashing in anticipation. They looked like a pack of starving dogs circling a meal and Goldenstar became acutely aware that she was the meal they were hungry for.

At the head of the group was a towering kittypet with a scarred muzzle, slim cheeks, and tufted ears. Even without the description Yarrowshade had given her, she would have recognized Razor from his resemblance to Mystique. The patterning was different but the features were all the same.

Razor tilted his head to mutter something to the ginger tabby next to him who Goldenstar recognized from the other day. The ginger tabby nodded and muttered something back which made Razor smile. Goldenstar’s hackles prickled instinctively.

“Well, well, well,” Razor called across the last few fox-lengths of space, “if it isn’t Goldenstar herself. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“This isn’t what we agreed,” Goldenstar said. “It was supposed to be just you and your second.” She just had to stall long enough for the reinforcements to arrive

“No, you see, we never agreed on anything,” said Razor with an airy tone. “My men said they would bring your offer to me and they did.” Halfway there. Razor himself was getting terribly close. “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t bring an army of your own. You wild cats really are as dumb as you seem.” He smiled a dastardly smile that curled up to show his upper gums on one side, his sharp and unnervingly white teeth bared dangerously. Those were the same teeth that had killed Smokyrose and worse.

Goldenstar bristled and puffed herself up to try and match him for size, at least a little. “I wanted to settle this peacefully,” she hissed, “but you seem determined to force my paw. You’ve given me no choice but to stop you with force.”

Razor laughed and turned back to his followers like a performer in front of an audience. “You hear that, boys? The little girl is going to stop me with force!” The group laughed along obediently. Goldenstar’s cheeks burned with humiliation despite herself. Razor turned his attention back on her with a dark, menacing rumble. His tail flicked left and then right and, immediately, the kittypets behind him started spreading around the dip to form a circle. Orangestar shuffled anxiously and turned to stand back to back with Goldenstar, claws flexing against the leaf litter.

Razor stepped in closer and took a deep breath of Goldenstar’s scent and she repressed a shudder of disgust. His grin slid off his face as he looked down at her, their chests a mouse-length from touching, replaced with a cold and pitiless glare.

“Tiger was right,” he growled, lowly enough that only she could hear. “Her scent is all over you.” Goldenstar swallowed. How had that detail slipped her mind?! Of course he would smell Scorch on her fur! They shared a nest! Goldenstar spent every waking moment trying to be near her! Razor smiled again at her paling expression but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Mm, so you knew,” he said, stepping forward again so she was forced to back up, bumping into Orangestar’s hind quarters. “You knew you were taking something of mine and you did it anyway.”

Anger burst to life like flames in Goldenstar’s chest. “She doesn’t belong to you!” she spat in the same quiet tone. “She never has and she never will!”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Razor snarled. He was so close she could feel his hot breath on her face. “I might have forgiven you if you truly didn’t know what you had done but I won’t stand by and let a filthy, backwards savage like you get away with corrupting my mate with your-” his words caught in his throat briefly, a small noise of disgust while he searched for the word, “perversions.”

Goldenstar didn’t know how to respond to that. She could barely process what ‘perversions’ he was even referring to.

She shook her head, discarded the thought, and raised her voice to address the entire crowd instead. “I don’t want to shed any unnecessary blood! Any Chaff who stand down or retreat will not be pursued!” Razor tilted his head back and laughed cruelly.

“You don’t get to set the terms here, girl!” He cried. “Your blood is the only blood being spilled today. If you beg, maybe your death will be quick.” In a flash, he swiped his claws at her face with enough force to knock her to the ground. Goldenstar ducked out of the way, stomach clenching, and bobbed back in to strike at his nose with her own claws. He pulled back, a look of indignation on his face, but she managed to nick one of his nostrils, drawing blood.

A few of the gathered rogues hissed disapprovingly. Razor held still for a moment. Goldenstar could feel how tense he was holding his body as he slowly and deliberately ran his tongue over his muzzle. He let out a slow, restrained breath.

“You… little… bitch,” he said through gritted teeth. Goldenstar ducked down into a defensive crouch in preparation for the dam that was about to break. Where are the others? She thought desperately.

Razor lunged for her, hissing furiously. She sprang into the air, and his teeth scraped her foreleg instead of closing around her neck. She bounced back onto her hind legs and lashed out with both paws. Most of her strikes passed harmlessly through his thick coat. One barely caught his cheek.

Behind her, Orangestar wheeled around and smacked Razor sharply in the throat. He coughed and turned on her, scoring a wound over her right shoulder. The look in his eyes was wild, like a rabid dog, lost in a bloodlust. Goldenstar bunched her legs to try and leap on his back, when a sudden yowling split the air.

Every head in the clearing turned outward as a wave of screaming Clan cats poured out of the trees around them. The circle the rogues had formed quickly collapsed as cats rushed to meet their foes or gave ground under the assault. Goldenstar’s heart soared hopefully.

“Look out!” she heard Orangestar shout and she just barely managed to twist so that Razor’s teeth sank into her shoulder and not her throat. She hissed in pain and rolled onto her back to rabbit kick at his face with her hind claws. Pain lanced through her as his claws wrapped around her torso and tugged at her pelt, then suddenly he released her with a shout and reeled back, blinking away the blood dripping into his left eye.

Behind him, Orangestar had sunken her teeth into the tendons of one of his back legs and was tugging as hard as her jaws would allow, dancing back as he tried to wheel around and claw at her. The noise of the battle was overwhelming now, a cacophony of tumbling bodies and wrathful screams. Goldenstar tried to block it out as best she could. Her one job was to kill Razor, her and Orangestar both. Only when he was dead could they refocus on the rest of the battle.

Baring her teeth, she lunged again, body singing with the thrill of righteous battle. For Scorch! her heart cried, burning with all the power of a shining golden sun.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #clangenrising #newleaf #Battle With Razor #swear warning #Goldenstar #Orangestar #Razor

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assortedseaglass · 28 days

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Borne & Bound - VI

[Masterlist]

Aemond Targaryen x OFC

(Mr Darcy!Aemond x Shieldmaiden!OFC)

Story Content: (This chapter in bold): Strong Language, Violence, Slow Burn, Smut, Canon-typical Sexism, Mentions of Incest¸ Mentions of Sexual Assault

Word Count: 6.6K

Notes: So, it’s been a few months…highly recommend reading the last chapter because I imagine everyone’s forgotten the plot. I nearly had.

I am so out of practice and this is not my finest – I read work of my friends here and marvel at the talent they possess. That you indulge my writing is a real honour, and reading your words is no longer intimidating but inspiring.

This was written for me to get back into the swing of things, and whether one or one hundred people read it, I am happy to be back.

The cold whipped Aemond’s face, harsh and blistering. Ice from the gathering storms clouds nicked his marble skin and the burn of the exposed air on his flesh hummed.

Any trace of anger, of anxiety or of rage had faded away. Amongst the clouds, high above the city, Aemond was utterly free. Free from what, he wasn’t entirely sure, but as he flew atop Vhagar’s scaled back he felt a peace the like of which he had never known.

For what felt like hours, the pair tumbled through dense cloud and bright sunburst in one endless day of freedom. He had no sense of duty, no eagerness to return to the Keep, no burden of family. Even Vhagar beneath him felt light and somehow far away. Still, she held him aloft in the sky, the steady beat of her wings taking them on, on, on.

After hours, or what could have been days, Vhagar descended below the clouds, and King’s Landing came into view. Beneath them, the waxy leaves of the Kingswood’s canopy gleamed. Aemond could just make out the world waking; the flight of birds from the trees, fires smoking from the townsfolks’ homes, a few traders making their way into the world to collect and sell their wares.

A lone rider cut a steady path along the woodland’s edge. Aemond watched a while as Vhagar’s enormous shadow followed behind them. The mane of the black horse rippled as it galloped, and even from Aemond’s position high in the sky, he could hear the thunder of its hooves.

Then, a great bell-like laugh rose into the air, pealing all around Aemond. Just as he felt, the sound was free. It warmed the very heart of him. On and on the gleeful rider laughed and Aemond found himself smiling in spite of himself. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest and beneath him, he felt Vhagar murmur too. With a gentle roll of her body, the great she-dragon leant into the wind and Aemond saw the black horse’s rider at last.

Strands of dark hair billowed in the wind, as did robes of burgundy, bronze and deepest blue. As he was with Vhagar, the rider was effortlessly attuned to their steed, moving gracefully across every furrow of the land. Another tinkle of laughter took flight into the air and Aemond leant forwards over Vhagar’s side. He reached out, as if trying to touch the rider. Vhagar’s flight was dangerously close to the ground now, and just as Aemond’s leather-covered fingertips skirted the edge of the rider’s robes, they turned over their shoulder to look up at him.

Her bonny face was flushed red, mud spattered across her cheeks, no doubt kicked up from the hooves of the immense horse. The dark hair that so exquisitely matched that of her steed still whipped about her face, but through it Aemond could make out the brilliant flash of a smile. Mischievous, wicked, taunting.

It was as though she had sunk her teeth into him with that smile. At once, the heat that filled his veins turned to ice. Vhagar’s great bulk vanished beneath him, and he fell, watching the girl laughing at him as he disappeared through the earth.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” Aemond barely heard the maid’s timid voice as he sat bolt upright in his bed. The girl stood by the windows of the chamber, a plate of fresh fruit in her hands, watching him.

Unruly blond hair swept in long strands in front of darkened his face. His naked chest, muscular and coated in a sheen of sweat, rose and fell heavily as he regained his ragged breath. One eye, unblinking and icy, stared forward, bright beneath his angry brow. The absence of the other made her shiver. She placed the plate of fruit on a table beside the window and stepped forward.

Aemond still did nothing but stare ahead of him. The gossamer curtains shrouding his bed rippled gently in the breeze from the open window. He looked straight through them, remembering the black hair of the horsemaiden and her steed.

“Your Grace?” The girl said again. A nightmare. She’d woken him from a nightmare, that was all. Or perhaps a dream. Maybe that was why he was angry. “I’ve brought breakfast, Your Grace.”

“Get out.”

Her steps faltered. Through the sweep of golden hair and fluttering fabric, she barely heard him.

“Pardon, Your Grace?” Her voice quavered, fear creeping into the words. Prince Aemond was a haunting man, that was true. The way he appeared like a spectre, his leathered boots having made no sound on the stone floors of the Keep. His unfeeling eyes, ever watching and unblinking. She had heard rumour of his fits of anger at the other servants. Still, in the ten months she had worked at the Keep, bringing food to him in the morning and lighting the fires, he had never raised his voice at her. Not yet at least.

Aemond’s hand balled into fists, the sheet beneath him crumpling. The girl stepped back. He was shaking. “Get. Out.”

“My Prince-”

“GET OUT!” The dragon within fired into life. Aemond stood abruptly, tearing at the bed’s curtains as he did so. With a squeal, and averting her eyes from the Prince’s near naked form, the maid tore from the room.

From beyond his chamber door, Aemond could hear her hurried footsteps and the shocked gasps of the Keep’s early risers. He was used it. On any other day, they did it to his face. Storming across the room, he dressed hurriedly in his riding leathers, shoved his eyepatch aggressively over his head and made to leave the room.

How dare she, the shit-shovelling little horse-wench. From the moment she arrived he’d known nothing but her condescension and disdain. Now, even in dreams, he couldn’t escape her.

Smoothing his hair beneath the leather, Aemond passed by his dresser, pocketing his dagger in its sheath at his belt and donning his great coat. Then, struck by the stranger staring back at him from the mirror, he paused.

Wisps of blond hair stuck out from his head like spun sugar. The skin around his brow was pink from where he’d roughly donned is eyepatch. The eye that stared back at him was wild, dark despite its violet hue and ringed by purple. The usual glow of his marble skin was gone, replaced by a dull grey. Even in dreams, he couldn’t escape her. He leant against the wood and inhaled deeply.

What in the seven hells had caused this great animosity? She wasn’t the first person to mock him, nor would she be the last. And he’d met plenty a noble from far off lands as they passed through the kingdom, never to be seen again. True, he had been less than welcoming. But hadn’t he tried? Asked about her kingdom, taken her letter to the rookery. He sighed. His efforts were less than poor.

Again he smoothed his hair and straightened. After his ride with Vhagar he would, once more, try to make amends. Besides, what better way to get the upper hand of the Braedel girl than with cordial superiority. The day was set. A smirk tugging at his lips, he left his chambers and the night’s awful dream behind.

He should have known better. Were the week’s recent events not proof that while the Keep was upside down with the council and its attendees, his plans would always be dashed. No sooner had he turned left from his chambers did the young prince encounter a small Braedel delegation. A few of the calvary’s riders, and none other than the enormous Ser Herumbrand.

The knight bowed slowly to the prince, as did the other Braedels, and allowed Aemond to pass. It was as they passed each other that Herumbrand and Aemond locked eyes. The knight’s mouth did not move, but something in the twinkle of his grey eyes told Aemond that deep down he was smiling.

“She had you ratted there, son.”

Herumbrand’s last words to Aemond instantly ran through his mind. As did the humiliation of his spar with the woman from his dream.

“Ser.” Aemond said flatly, turning on his booted heel to face the knight.

“Your Grace?” The three Braedels halted and watched the prince.

“Lady Geowyth, where is she?” Best to avoid her until he had a sure plan of action that would not result in further hostility.

Ser Herumbrand waited a moment before answering. He seemed to be assessing the man before him. Aemond let him, his eye never wavering.

“With her brother, I believe, as he prepares to return to Braedel.”

A flicker of annoyance befell Aemond’s eye. “Forgive me, Ser.” He took a step forward. “‘As he prepares to return?’”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Herumbrand smiled broadly. “Lord Geodred will return to Braedel for his wedding. Lady Geowyth is to stay as the Princess’ lady-in-waiting for a time.”

With nought but a rumbled hmph, Aemond turned on his heel and stormed down the corridor. Maids and grooms parted with bowed heads at his coming and he ignored each one. Beyond the Keep the skies were blackening. He would ride Vhagar later. Deep with in the chasm of his chest he felt her settle towards slumber. She knew he would come for her by day’s end. Flying through the storm clouds was what she loved best. Better to let the clouds gather so they could really relish their time together.

Instead of making his way to Vhagar’s rocky outcrop as he had planned, Aemond treaded the well-worn stone towards the training yard, every step remembering the parries and attacks Geowyth dealt him during their spar. The way she exhausted herself trying to prove she could keep up with him, a man. He could almost feel the gentle press of the dagger she’d held at his ribs, and see the self-satisfied smile she wore when he realised its presence. And now she was to stay.

There could only be one person so scheming. Only one whose machinations would permit the young horse-maid to stay. And so it was that Aemond, on his way to sharpen his swordsmanship, burst through the ornate oaken doors that led to the queen’s ballroom.

“MOTHER!”

On the other side of the Keep, in the guest quarters, Geowyth watched with undisguised agitation as her brother and a few groomsmen packed his belongings into various trunks and bags.

From her position on the bed, she could see that he was anxious to get back to Braedel, and just as anxious to leave.

“I don’t see why you must go so soon if eam (uncle) is not so unwell. Did you not say that if he were, you would send for me? Why not take me with you?”

Geodred sighed, not looking at her as he tidied away the small writing desk covered with his studies of the mainland. “Don’t be childish.”

“I’m not being child-”

“Then trust me and stop with your pettiness,” Geowyth huffed and he ignored her. “He isn’t so unwell. Not more than when we left him, and I will send for you the moment he so much as coughs. But I am to be married, remember sweostor (sister). I may not be a husband yet, but I owe it to Folchild to prove what kind of man I will be. Thus far she has been stuck on Braedel with a sickly cynge (king), a fussing mother and a conniving father, all the while preparing singlehandedly for our marriage.”

Damn him for being so kind-hearted, Geowyth thought. Still, she couldn’t help digging in her heels and making him feel her annoyance at his abandonment. He was her brother after all.

“I wonder what sort of wife Folchild will be?” she said innocently. Geodred hummed to signify that even if his hands were busy, he was indeed listening. “When she first came to Braedel I, like you, was dazzled by her beauty. But what have we learnt of her since then?”

“I have learnt a great deal,”

She ignored him. “I cannot claim that I know her as a sister well enough to give my good opinion, but she makes you happy and that I suppose will have to do.”

“Geowyth,”

“Do you know, eam’s last letter said she has become more reserved with every visit to Braedel since we came here. No doubt your arrival home will cheer her. I’ve seen the way the women here look at you, maeg (brother). You should have come to the mainland to find a wife first. Imagine the noble ladies you could have claimed! I’ve seen even the queen giving you the once over when she thinks no-one is looking-”

“Geowyth,” Geodred said warningly.

“You could have inherited another title! Instead you get, as you say, a fussing mother-in-law and a conniving new father. No doubt he heard of eam’s ill health and descended on him like a vulture, throwing the only thing that Stanas Isle has of worth at you; Folchild herself.”

Geodred suddenly dropped the volumes of books in his hands upon the desk and interrupted her at last. In three silent strides he was at the chamber door, whispering something to one of the Keep’s servants. When he said nothing, Geowyth continued. She knew he was getting annoyed at her now, yet she couldn’t help it. It was like scratching an itch.

“And now you are to leave me here,” she said dramatically, disguising the fact that she was still hurt by this. “Drop your duty to the kingdom for duty of another kind.”

“Duty is duty, sweostor,” How could he still be so composed?

“If you say so. But I was under the impression we were sent here to make alliances and do right by Braedel. Instead, you are hurrying home so you may put your end in as soon as possi-”

“ENOUGH!” Geodred slammed his hand on the wooden poster of the bed. Geowyth flinched. “Enough.” He ran a hand over his handsome face and looked down at her. “I have done my duty here. I have impressed the king and, more importantly, the queen, for we know full well it is she running the order of things. I have made friends with the princes and demonstrated the value of our considerable calvary. And now I must return to strengthen other alliances.”

Geowyth opened her mouth to retort.

“Yes, Geowyth. I am well aware that my marriage to Folchild is to strengthen bonds with Stanas Isle and keep her father on our side. But have you stopped to think that perhaps I may love her too? Have you stopped to think at all?”

“Geodred, I-”

“If you spent your mornings with the other visiting young ladies, rather than gallivanting with Mearl, which you can do any day at home, you might understand. If you listened and learnt from our hosts rather than stirring up gossip as you did at the feast, you might understand. If you stopped of flirting with the princes and making a fool of yourself in the training yard-”

“I am not flirting!” Geowyth shouted, feeling flushed and sick in equal measure.

“-THEN YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND!” Geodred roared over her. “You are staying here because eam sees that you are a liability to our kingdom.”

Geowyth flinched like he had struck her. She needed to hear it while she was hurt, there was no other way.

“You have charmed the princess, true, but you have ruffled feathers also. How in the name of all above and below do you expect to command the renward (cavalry) when I am king? How can you expect us to trust you?” Geowyth’s eyes were watering an Geodred’s heart broke. With a shaking voice he continued. “You are hot-headed, quick to temper and to judge. We would be at war the moment you struck out on your first charge. You must learn! And staying at the keep will ensure this.”

“Geodred, please-”

“I mean it, Geowyth. The day that eam passes is growing ever closer, and I cannot afford to have such a wayward leader take my place. It is about time you realised your duty.”

“Lord Geodred,” Geodred’s head snapped to the door. Ser Herumbrand loomed in the doorway, bedecked in ceremonial battle dress. “The horses are ready.”

Geodred nodded. Herumbrand cast his eyes over the siblings. Geodred, red-faced, a little tiredness eking onto his face. Geowyth knelt on the bed with her head bowed, her face hidden by her curtain of hair but not containing her sniffles. Herumbrand left the pair as Geodred places both his hands on his sister’s shoulders.

“Come, we are away.”

“Stand up straight,”

“I am,”

“Straighter then. Our guests, your guests-”

“Father’s guests.”

“-our guests our leaving.” For the second time that week, Aemond stood on the barbican steps in the heat of the afternoon, listening to his mother and brother bicker.

All the royal family were in attendance this time. His mother, beautiful in the green of her house, auburn hair dancing in the gentle breeze, stood proud at the centre of the steps, watching with interest as the Braedel cavalry jostled with excitement; the horses eager to be on the road, their riders ready for home. Aegon looked surprisingly clean and well slept. The dark circles around his eyes were still present, and it was clear to all that he was still drunk from the night before, but he looked handsome nonetheless. Like their mother, he wore green, though darker than hers, and Aemond thought that while he might not quite pass for a prince of the realm, there was no denying his nobility.

Aemond tried not to look at his father. A crumpled heap of cloth and sallow skin had been propped up in a chair beside the eldest prince. His mouth hung open slightly, the gold mask covering his face flashing in the sun and agitating some of the horses. He could barely hold his head up to look his guests in the eye.

Only Helaena was not stood with them. The best of them, she had ventured into the crowd of warrior men and women to stand at Lady Geowyth’s side. Ser Herumbrand and a few older members of the renward watched with jovial smiles as Geowyth introduced the princess to her immense horse.

Aemond stilled with taut anticipation as Lady Geowyth took Helaena’s hand and moved it to the horse’s thick neck. Beside him, his mother shuffled on her feet. Both watched nervously. Helaena’s head was turned awkwardly away from the animal, as though trying to put some distance between herself and the horse. Lady Geowyth brushed her own dark hair from her face and whispered in Helaena’s ear. She looked just the same as when Aemond first saw her. Dark hair long and unkempt, amber eyes watchful. Her face too was just as flushed, though Aemond had put that down to her long days’ ride. Today, her cheeks were blotchy, as though she’d been crying.

It would take a fool not to see how she and Helaena complimented each other; Helaena in her light blue and gold silks, Geowyth in her dark blue and burgundy velvet. Helaena’s golden hair and Geowyth’s black. Helaena flighty and faraway, Geowyth earth-bound. When Helaena still retreated from Geowyth’s mount, the shieldmaiden took her hand and gently placed a kiss on it, murmuring something once more. Even from where he stood, Aemond could see that a small smile was playing upon Helaena’s face. Nodding at whatever Geowyth had said, Helaena allowed her to move her hand back towards the horse’s muscled neck and run it along the smooth hair there.

Aemond heard his mother exhale. He turned is good eye towards her and she smiled, proud and relieved. The corners of his mouth twitched and he turned back to the women. Geowyth had produced a shining red apple from her skirt pocket and given it to the princess. Helaena tentatively held it up for Mearl to sniff. When his bristled nose brushed her hand, Helaena giggled, and even jumped a little with glee when he began to eat it.

If it pleased his sister, Aemond supposed there was at least one good reason for Lady Geowyth to stay.

“Geowyth, astandan (come).” Geodred was standing before the king and called his sister back to her temporary position in the royal household.

“Helaena,” Alicent called gently. The two came at once. Helaena near gliding across the barbican, Geowyth following dutifully in her wake. Her role as lady-in-waiting had begun. She bowed before the king and queen when she reached the steps upon which they stood, then settled behind Helaena, now nestled between her brothers. All in the barbican and on the steps watched as Geodred approached the royals, Ser Herumbrand a step behind him.

A ripple of pride ran through the renward when their leader dropped to his knees before Viserys, so that the king may look upon him. Taking is frail hand, Geodred kissed his knuckles then covered it with his own.

“My King,” he began gently so only those closest to him could hear. “A thousand thanks for your hospitality this last week, and a thousand more for your council. I have learnt more than you can know. I shan’t forget this kindness.”

At his words, Viserys leant forward. A small gasp escaped Alicent’s lips and Ser Harrold stepped forward, ready to catch the king should he fall. Viserys raised a hand to quell them, and Geodred bowed his head closer to the king’s. This time, none could hear the whisper that passed between them, but when the king was finished, Geodred stood and bowed his head. Herumbrand followed suit, then clasped the hand of Ser Harrold in friendship.

The rest of Geodred’s goodbyes were easy. The queen beamed at him as he made his farewells and thanked her for allowing his sister to stay. All looked at Geowyth, but still her head was reverently bowed. After bowing to Aegon, Geodred patted the prince on the shoulder jovially. Heir to heir, young man to young man.

His deepest bow was bestowed upon Helaena. “Good princess, I shall not speak for my sister, but will say this. I am certain your friendship will do more for our kingdom than our cavalry or your protection.” Watching her eyes to make sure she understood, Geodred took her hand in his. He did not kiss it but held it a mere moment before letting go.

“Prince Aemond,” Geodred nodded and Geowyth, glancing up, noticed that Aemond did the same. He was the only who had. “My deepest thanks for your tutelage. Were it not for your direction, I would not have known where to begin. I only wish I could know more-”

Aemond hummed in gratitude. A warm, gentle noise. Helaena turned to look happily at her little brother, and Geowyth wondered if this sweet sound was usually reserved just for her.

“-and if you ever want to try your tongue at Braehic, or find yourself flying west, please do visit. We have plenty of land for your Vhagar, and livestock too.”

“Thank you, Ser.” Aemond held out his gloved hand and, without hesitation or worry for etiquette, Geodred grasped it in his with a broad smile. It was only then, when he’d addressed all the royals, did Geodred make his way back along the line. Helaena had already stepped sideways towards her brother-husband to reveal Geowyth.

She was looking up now, waiting for him to address her. She was the lady-in-waiting of a princess, and he a visitor of the family. In this setting he was no longer just her brother. He outranked her, and then some. Geodred sighed and stepped forward. Helaena turned away, pushing Aegon towards their parents. Aemond too bowed his head, but he could’t help but listen.

When Geodred took Geowyth’s hands, it was only then she felt able to speak.

“What did the king say?” Her voice was hoarse and quiet.

“I cannot tell,” he said solemnly, looking at her hawk-like eyes. They were not so bright as usual, their argument having dulled their colour. Pain welled in his chest and he took her face in his hands. It was just them now. Geowyth, he and their uncle Galan.

“I sorry, Geowyth,” he whispered. Aemond’s ears pricked with intrigue.

“You were right to say it,” Geowyth whispered, her voice wobbling. Say what? Geodred sighed again.

“Beon til, beon waeren (be good, be dutiful). I will send for you when the time comes.” Geowyth nodded fervently as she attempted to keep her tears at bay. “Deos forhtlic (who’s afraid)?” Geodred brought his forehead to his sister’s.

“Not I,” she said firmly. They paused a moment, their foreheads pressed together, savouring the feeling. This was the moment everything would change. Their next meeting would be the dawn of Galan’s death, and Geodred’s ascension. Who would take from them this last moment of normality?

With a swift kiss of his sister’s cheek, Geodred hurried down the steps towards his mount. Hurried, so he didn’t change his mind and drag her back to Braedel with him. Aemond watched as Ser Herumbrand fleetingly placed his forehead against Geowyth’s too. It was surely some Braedel tradition. He imagined pressing his forehead to Ser Harrold’s. He let out a sharp laugh and all but his father looked at him.

“Renward,” Geowyth called from atop his mount. Ser Herumbrand mounted his own horse beside him and placed the helmet adorned with horsehair atop is head. Just as when they had arrived, the Braedel cavalry displayed their kinship with the horses that gave them their name. This time though, Aemond did not scoff. Owing to his growing fondness of Lord Geodred, he found it admirable of the small island kingdom. Just as Geodred tired to learn about the ways of the mainland, Aemond found himself wanting to know more about Braedel.

A great clatter of metal and horses’ hooves echoed across the stone walls of the barbican; the delegation from Braedel had begun their slow journey home. At Aemond’s side, Helaena shuffled to stand beside Geowyth, holding her hand tightly. Tears were gathering in Geowyth’s eyes, her jaw set as her lips trembled.

It was as Aemond looked from Helaena and Geowyth’s entwined hands to the latter’s eyes that she looked at him. Wild and childlike in her sadness, the amber of them shocked him, as they had done the first time he saw her. He looked away quickly and instead caught the eye of his mother. She smiled knowingly and he tutted.

“Geowyth,” Helaena’s sweet voice was tender with concern. “You may have today as your own. Go, now.”

Geowyth hesitated. She cast her eyes towards her retreating house then, at Helaena’s insistence, curtsied to the royal family and made her way up the steps and into the comfort of the Keep.

“Aemond.” It was Helaena, speaking lowly to him.

“Helaena,” he smiled softly at her.

“I think you should have the day as your own too. You have not been of sorts. Perhaps the three of us could ride later?” Aegon looked briefly over his sister-wife’s head at his brother and shrugged noncommittally.

“If you insist,”

“I do,” Helaena smiled as the rest of the royal household made their way inside, the thunder of the calvary now a mere rumble.

Peace at last.

Aemond daredn’t say no to Helaena, certainly not when she had commanded him to take the day as his own. Not even their mother could refuse. She was so frequently flustered by her daughter’s odd pronouncements that she found saying anything to her a difficulty.

Still flushed with happiness at Geodred’s assessment for him, Aemond strode through the Keep with renewed vigour. After Helaena, the relative stranger from Braedel was the only person to see him as he felt. As he was.

Buoyed by the praise, Aemond made for one of the Keep’s many libraries. There were plenty to choose from. The large one favoured by his father, full of old tales and dusty tomes. The bright and airy one that his mother and sister frequented in the royal apartments. The myriad of others scattered across different floors and corridors. Today, before heading towards the outskirts of the city where Vhagar rested, Aemond made his solitary way towards his favourite since he was a boy. Where he came to hide from his brother and nephews after a day of merciless teasing.

Tucked between White Sword Tower and the goldcloaks’ barracks, the small study that was Aemond’s preference looked out over Blackwater Bay. It was midday now and Aemond imagined the water lapping at the city’s walls below the window he favoured sitting in.

No-one else came here. Not the white or goldcloaks as they were always too busy. His family stayed in the royal apartments and guests had their own library in the west of the Keep. It would be silent except for the gulls over the bay and the breeze through the window. Trays of confectionary will have been restocked by the maids, the windows opened to air the old books, golden light flowing in from the sun beyond. All Aemond needed to relax. It was also one of the few libraries he had not looked for knowledge of Braedel. Perhaps one of the guards had family from the small island and kept volumes of its history in there as a nostalgic reminder of home. Or maybe a Maester had produced a long-forgotten biography of the kingdom that no-one thought of interest enough to keep in the main library’s stores.

Whatever the reason he had not checked, Aemond all but bounded (as much as princes are allowed to bound) towards the small door at the top of the ill-used spiral staircase. A few goldcloaks bowed to him as he passed and, feeling that normality had returned to the Keep, Aemond threw open the door to his secret hideaway.

A chair screeched across the stone floor and clattered to the ground with a loud thunk.

The curtains were indeed open. The confectionary had been refilled, and Aemond could see that beyond the window seagulls were soaring and the water glistened. But before the window, in what would have been his usual seat, stood Lady Geowyth.

Her eyes were wide with shock but rimmed with red and shining brightly. She’d been crying. She stood frozen for a while, a mixture of horror and shame playing across her pale face.

A flash of recognition lit behind Aemond’s eye. He had seen this expression before. Minus the tears, she had looked just the same when she startled him in the royal library. The repetition of this event made him chuckle, almost imperceptibly. The noise seemed to remind Geowyth of where she was, and she hastily dropped into a low curtsey.

“Your Grace.” Aemond watched as she wiped her face with her sleeve and turned to the window. The chair she was sat in had overturned in her shock, and she bent to pick it up. Aemond’s eye followed the swoop of her frizzy hair as it fell towards the floor. The action exposed the back of her neck, and the midday sun on her pale skin glowed. It was almost Targaryen in its brilliance. He cleared his throat and moved forward awkwardly.

“Let me,” he reached one hand out for the chair and swiftly righted it. He was certain she could have done it herself, and he was still unsure of his feelings towards her. Whether indifference, curiosity or dislike, he had been raised a prince. Decorum, chivalry and honour above all.

Geowyth sniffled a quiet “thank you” and picked up the book upon the windowsill. Aemond read the spine. Philosophies on the Flora and Fauna of the Crownlands.

“This is one of Helaena’s favourites,” His voice was a little flat, a little stunted, but it was a start.

“Yes,” Geowyth sniffed again. “Forgive me,” and she wiped her nose once more. Aemond looked away. How are you meant offer comfort but also give privacy? His mind raced and he tried to think of what to say. The wrong thing might ignite her sarcasm, as anything he uttered seem to do. He might even offend her, as he had done on occasion. And he certainly didn’t want to make her cry more, what on earth would he do then?

As Aemond fretted over his next move, Geowyth watched him. Through her tear-blurred eyes, she watched him awkwardly look around at the books. He had removed his leather gloves, and they creaked as he wrung them behind his back. The eye that so often piercingly surveyed her was almost purple in the sunlight, and softer that she had ever seen it. After their last encounter in the training yard, Geowyth half expected Aemond to want her head. In his stead, she found a somewhat lost and, dare she say it, shy young prince.

“Here,” his voice broke her from her thoughts. Aemond’s pale hand took another book from the shelves and handed it to her cautiously, as though she would bite if he moved too fast. Geowyth looked down at the book’s green cover. Gold leaves were embossed on the fabric and she ran her hand over it.

“Eseld’s Apohtic,” Geowyth said lowly.

“It’s another of Helaena’s favourites.” His tone was blunt, but not so cold as how he usually spoke to her. Geowyth looked at him. He was watching her intently, eye shifting occasionally as though embarrassed.

“Thank you,” though Geowyth’s voice was still small from crying, something of herself began to return. She took the two books in hand, sniffled once more and then stood to her full height. Enough of this wallowing. She looked back to Aemond. “I’ll leave you know, Your Grace. It is clear you were hoping to find this study unoccupied.”

Aemond opened his mouth to speak, faltered, then shut it again. Offering a small smile, Geowyth curtsied and made for the door. As she passed him, Aemond caught the scent of pine and rosemary in her hair and, just as she reached the door, he spoke.

“My lady,” his voice was desperate and he cringed. Geowyth half turned to face him, and he could see just how flushed she had become from crying as the windowlight hit her face.

“Your Grace?” Despite her sadness, and the unhidden resentment the two shared for each other, something about her calm patience as he fumbled with politeness soothed him. Suddenly, he saw a glimmer of what Helaena so loved about her.

“I came here in search of books on Braedel. It is one of the few places I hadn’t looked-”

A smirk quirked the lady’s lips. “You have been looking?”

Damn. “Your brother talked so highly of home, and I cannot deny your language and customs intrigue me,” he flushed. How common of him to admit to something so indecent as curiosity. “I thought, perhaps, well. I would like to learn more.”

Geowyth watched him a moment, and Aemond wracked his brain for what he could have possibly said to offend her.

“All you have to do is ask, Your Grace.”

Aemond’s eye flickered to Geowyth’s. Mirth, or maybe even kindness, was shining in them now. He swallowed. It was the expression she had worn in his dream.

“But if you are so determined to learn from your books,” she pointed to a shelf by the unlit hearth. “May I recommend Grennan’s Compendium of Republic Realms? I believe my uncle wrote the introduction-” Geowyth’s voice tailed away. She had suddenly remembered the missive her uncle wrote the day before.

“The heir apparent you say is a wastrel but bonny fellow, and Geodred tells me that Prince Aemond has been giving him private tutelage in mainland history. List me two more of their virtues with your next letter.”

She looked at the books around her, the one Aemond now reached for and the two in her hand. Helaena’s favourites. “You care for Helaena very much.”

Aemond looked at her curiously. “Yes,” he said, as though it were obvious. “Only a little more than you, I dare say,” he added with sarcasm.

Geowyth laughed that hearty laugh she shared with her brother. Aemond’s breath caught in his throat; he had almost smiled at the sound.

“I doubt even one so plainly open as I could care for someone the way you care for her.”

Aemond clasped his hands behind his back and smirked. “Perhaps it is the one thing we have in common.” He watched as Geowyth relaxed against the door. This isn’t too difficult, he thought. Perhaps he possessed some of his family’s charm after all.

“Helaena and sparring, how contrary we are.” Geowyth too could hardly believe the ease their conversation had found. This gentle teasing and care of his family; maybe she had misjudged him.

“I would hardly call it sparring,” Aemond said, his tone more confident now. “Batting your lashes and holding a dagger to my ribs? That move has been used more often in the street of silk than it has in the training yard.”

A potent silence fell between them.

Aemond knew at once he had said the wrong thing. Geowyth’s eagle eyes hardened and an electricity seemed to bristle around her.

“Well, I maybe be as common as a whore in your eyes, Your Grace,” she spat his title viciously as she whipped her dark hair over her shoulder and opened the door. “But last we met it was you who was flat on their back.” No sooner had Aemond begun to retort had the study door slammed, Geowyth’s angry footsteps echoing down the staircase beyond.

“She had you ratted there, son.”

Aemond ripped of his eyepatch and jammed his hands into his eyes with an angry growl. Throwing Grennan’s Compendium of Republic Realms across the study, Aemond too strode from the study, not caring whether he encountered the lady on the stairs. He’d push her down the rest of them for all he cared.

Hours later, as he and Vhagar flew above the Crownlands, Aemond watched a lone stallion thundering across its grassy plains. Air-borne and earth-bound, the riders rode their mounts ferociously, testing them to their limits. It was as Aemond and Vhagar tumbled from the sky, flying perilously, exhilaratingly, exquisitely close to the ground, did the rider look up at him. With fierce determination, Lady Geowyth kicked her heels at Mearl’s side and tore away from the dragon.

From high above them, sat upon a rocky ridge, Helaena and Dreamfyre watched.

Note: The next chapter will have Sexual TensionTM, I promise!

Tags: @arcielee @mefools @bladeofdreadfort @glitterandgoldfinds @heimtathurs @ewanmitchellcrumbs @babyblue711 @wingeddeliciouscanonrebel @greenowlfactif @fantasias-creativebubble @httyd-marauders @sirenangelroyal* @theoneeyedprince @fyeahhotdfics* @persephonerinyes @humanpurposes @exitpursuedbyavulcan @elizarbell @el-is-green @booghostii @myfandomprompts @castellomargot @trashcanrat @boundlessfantasy @aemonds-fire @barbieaemond @bookwyrmsblog @herfantasyworldd @unheardnerd @targaryenrealnessdarling @chattylurker

*unable to tag

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond kinslayer #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #ewan mitchell x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #borne and bound #geowyth beridan #hotd fanfic #assortedseaglass

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musings-from-an-elder-goth · 12 days

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Lisa Frankenstein Filming Locations

“It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.” ― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

As promised, here are some of the filming locations for Lisa Frankenstein. As I just saw Kathryn Newton at Spooky Empire in Orlando this past weekend, I decided to stalk filming locations for some of her cooler movies.

Not to be overly dramatic, but it is a minor miracle I found any of these. Not kidding - this was crazy difficult. But after finding most on my own, I received an early copy of the locations list from an member of the film's production team, who shall remain nameless! This confirms the locations I'd already found, plus gives the school & party house locations, which I'd never have found on my own, so a huge thank you to that lovely person!

***Spoilers below***

We'll start with Lisa's home which is located in Marrero, LA. The shed in the back yard for the tanning booth is really part of the property, & can just be seen from the street (circled in red in second image).

Now, if you go there, remember, THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY. Perfectly fine to admire it from the street, but do not trespass, do not knock on the door, do not ask for a tour, & do not ask if Lisa is home. Please. Now, if the folks living there say 'Hey' & invite you in when they see you in the street taking selfies with the house, that's another thing entirely - but otherwise, low profile it.

Although they filmed a little bit inside the real house, at least for the scenes where Creature first arrives, most of the house interiors were filmed on a sound stage which I know thanks to Zelda Williams posting this photo:

And that sound stage is The University of New Orleans Nims Center Studio located at 800 - 824 Distributors Row in New Orleans. I know this because of this picture from a behind the scenes video showing the entire cast & crew taking a group photo with two distinct architectural features circled. The next image is a Google street view of the same location with those features also circled.

Per the locations list, the party house Lisa & Taffy go to early in the film is located in New Aurora, which I've confirmed via location detail on Google maps:

And the high school is Belle Chase high school in Belle Chase, Louisiana, which I've also confirmed via architectural detail:

The exteriors for Bachelor's Grove Cemetery & the woods around it, the wooded paths, & the bench scenes all take place in Brechtel Park, which is located in the Algiers neighborhood of New Orleans.

The park offers roads for driving scenes as well as thick woodland with vines & dense ground cover for the cemetery set - which, sadly, was entirely fake. Below are the two large areas of trees in Brechtel Park, one of which is where the cemetery set was located. I'll be driving to New Orleans soon to do just that for a video.

If you'd like to visit the real Bachelor's Grove Cemetery, which was Diablo Cody's inspiration, that is located at 5900 W. Midlothian Turnpike, Midlothian, IL 60445, just outside Chicago.

Below is a random photo of what the woods in Brechtel Park look like, and just by chance, this is the exact location they used for the Bachelor's Grove set. I can tell by the slightly crooked tree on the left and the dark leaning tree on the right.

Moving along, the scene at 1:17:37 in the film where Creature goes to retrieve Janet's (Lisa's step-mom's) car and kills the mean old man who is harassing the kid who can't start a lawn mower, was filmed at the south dead end of Dede Street in Marrero.

Rather pleased with myself for finding that one - not easy.

Creature then returns to just outside Bachelor's Grove, which again was filmed in Brechtel Park, with precise location circled in the third image.

Lisa & Taffy arrive there & Lisa psychs herself up to go into the cemetery to kill Creature:

This is still in Brechtel Park, they just moved the cars about 30 feet to the west & spun the camera around - the dead giveaways are those posts along the road & the two small hills in the background.

Lisa then runs down a wide, woodland path.

This photo of one of Brechtel Park's wide, wooded paths is probably not the same path, as there are several candidates...

...but they're all located on the west side of the park, circled below, so if you go there, you shouldn't have much trouble finding the exact spot.

When Dale, Lisa's dad (played by Joe Chrest, who also plays the Wheeler's dad on Stranger Things), & Taffy visit Lisa's grave at the end, they are standing in the southern section of Carrollton Cemetery in New Orleans, right about where I have the red circle placed.

The reason they used this location is because Carrollton is one of the few New Orleans cemeteries that has a large section where all the graves are below ground, as this movie is supposed to be taking place near Chicago.

As for how I know they used this specific location, I have a wine bottle shaped tombstone to thank for that. In the below image, we see that odd tombstone from the front.

And here we see it from the back, as I wasn't able to get a clear image of it from the same perspective of the above image:

Also rather proud of that find.

And the final scene on the bench is likely (I would only know for sure if I went there in person) also in Brechtel Park at the location circled on the map.

The reason I think it's that precise spot is because they were already filming in Brechtel Park anyway, so why not use it for the bench scenes? Plus, those benches are fake. While the park does have benches, they don't look the same. Another giveaway they're fake is there isn't any 'wear' in the grass around them, indicating no one actually sits there. These were brought in and placed at that spot just for filming. I'm 95% sure that's correct, but I could be wrong - if you live near New Orleans and want to double check, please do & leave a comment.

So the only significant filming location I can't find is Michael's red brick colonial, but whatever. Found Michael's house, too! I'm so good, it's scary!

Anyway, here's to hoping we all find that special someone who was reanimated just for us. 🦇🖤🦇

creaturesfromelsewhere 5-23-2024

#Lisa Frankenstein #Kathryn Newton #Diablo Cody #Bachelor's Grove Cemetery #Brechtel Park #Carrollton Cemetery #Marrero #New Orleans #nola #darkly inclined #goth #Zelda Williams #Spooky Empire #creaturesfromelsewhere #musings from an elder goth #Creature #Joe Chrest

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milfjagger · 9 days

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posting this on its own as well :) template and idea from @trollmaiden and full guide/sources under cut

"La Belle Dame sans Merci” by Henry Meynell Rheam

by Ayami Kojima

“The Fairy Lovers” by Theodor Richard Edward von Holst

Gnomes from the novel The Little Grey Men, written and illustrated by “BB” (Denys Watkins-Pitchford)

Nyform Norwegian troll

“Little Red Mischief” by Amy Brown

Faery from “The Hallow” dir. Corin Hardy, SFX by John Nolan

Ariel from Shakespeare’s The Tempest, illustrated by Jane Ray

The Beast from Over The Garden Wall, created by Patrick McHale

“Morgan Le Fay” by Clive Hicks-Jenkins

Unicorn foal sculpture by SovaeArt https://www.deviantart.com/indigo-ocean/gallery

Faery from Good Faeries, Bad Faeries by Brian Froud

“Dusk” by Stephanie Pui-Mun Law

Honeythorn Gump from “Legend” dir. Ridley Scott

Oona from “Legend” dir. Ridley Scott

Flora, Fauna and Merryweather from “Sleeping Beauty”, art direction by Eyvind Earle

Bilbo Baggins from a Dutch edition of JRR Tolkein’s The Hobbit, illustrated by Kees Kelfkens(?)

Selkie depicted on a Faroese stamp

Chortlebones from Bella Sara, illustrated by Lynn Hogan

Huldra from the game “Year Walk”

The Sprite from Fantasia 2000, segment directed by Paul and Gaëtan Brizzi

and 23 Costume designs for Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream by Robert Courtneidge

As above

Tinker Bell from Peter Pan (2003) dir. PJ Hogan

Hoggle from Labyrinth, designed by Brian Froud and created by Jim Henson’s Creature Shop

Mr Tumnus from The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe dir. Andrew Adamson

Tom Bombadil from JRR Tolkein’s The Lord of the Rings, illustrated by Tim Hildebrandt

The Green Man (source unclear)

Illustration for Terry Pratchett’s The Wee Free Men by Robyn Haley

Truffle from Adventure Quest

Littlest Pet Shop fairy

Woodland Furby made by me :) Please do not call him cursed

The Psammead from the BBC’s TV adaptation of E Nesbitt's Five Children and It, dir. Marilyn Fox

Thranduil, King of the Wood Elves from The Hobbit, dir. Arthur Rankin Jr. and Jules Bass

Nøkken by John Bauer

Gizmo from Gremlins dir. Joe Dante, creature design by Chris Walas

Gollum from JRR Tolkein’s The Hobbit, illustrated by Tove Jansson

Soot Sprite from Spirited Away dir. Hayao Miyazaki

Gonk

“The Junk Lady” from Labyrinth; concept art by Brian Froud

Domovoi by Vladimir Chernickov

Falkor from The Neverending Story dir. Wolfgang Petersen, creature design by Patrick Woodroffe

Cherry Fairy from Webkinz

Titania from Vertigo Comics, illustrated by Matt Dixon

Wind Drifter, My Little Pony G1

#idk why the resolution is so bad but anyway

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cryptidclaw · 7 months

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RoC Playlist!

Ive been listening to my RoC Playlist for the vibes tm and I realized I have never shared it with yall, so here it is!

Warriors: Rise of Change Playlist

Below are all the songs on it + what characters they correlate to in no particular order (i just added them in this order)

You can easily tell who my blorbos and fave bands/artists are thru this playlist lmao

Hurt- Nine Inch Nails: Brambleflower

My Kind of Woman- Mac DeMarco: Leafpool + Mothwing

Just Take My Wallet- Jack Stauber's Micropop: Fire, Gray and Dust morning Raven after he is presumed dead/a run away

Graveyard's Full- The Growlers: Starclan and the Dark Forest vibes

What Do It Mean-Lord Huron: Ravenscourge (I want to make a PMV for this so baddd)

Drops in the Lake- Lord Huron: Crowfeather + Squirrelflight & Leafpool + Mothwing

Vampire Reference in a Minor Key- Will Wood: Ashfall

The Main Character- Will Wood: Firesight (also just any of the main characters lol)

Dear God- XTC: Mothwing (also Leafpool)

Can't Go Back- The Crane Wives: Shriketail

Never Love an Anchor- The Crane Wives: Mothwing and Leafpool about their kits (I want to make a PMV for this but not for non-RoC Mothpool heh)

Woodland- The Paper Kites: Firesight growin up <3

Suburbia Overture/ Greetings from Mary Bell Township/ (Vampire Culture)/ Love Me, Normally- Will Wood: Ravenscourge

Poor Isaac- The Airborne Toxic Event: Leafpool

The Milk Carton- Madilyn Mei: Firesight or the Order ancestors from the Great Sickness era

Bitter Water- The Oh Hellos: Leafpool + Mothwing

The Moon Will Sing- The Crane Wives: Mistyfoot abt Leopardpelt (I would love to make this a PMV to tbh)

Crop Circles- Odie Leigh: Jaywing/ whatever i decide to name him lol

The Yawning Grave- Lord Huron: Blinding Moon vibes

Helplessness Blues- Fleet Foxes: Willowfeather (Feathertail)

Oliver James- Fleet Foxes: Creekstorm (Crookedstar)

Jazz on the Autobahn- The Felice Brothers: the whole plot, i just like imagine a montage to it

Don't Let's Start- They Might Be Giants: Hollyleaf

Second Child, Restless Child- The Oh Hellos: Tawnyclaw, Willowfeather and Squirrelflight

The Ghost on the Shore- Lord Huron: Fallen Leaves & Rock

Just a Girl- No Doubt: Leafpool (Squirrelflight a bit, tho that fits far better for canon)

Rusalka, Rusalka/ Wild Rushes- The Decemberists: Mapleshade + Goldenflower (Rusalka is abt them being WIVES; Wild Rushes is abt them and their exes)

Your Ghost- The Decemberists: Mapleshade

Dear Arkansas Daughter- Lady Lamb: Hollyleaf

My Love Mine All Mine- Mitski: Leafpool + Mothwing

Sarah- Alex G: Crowfeather abt Squirrelflight

#there are like more than 5 MothPool songs on here lmao #i am cringe but i am free #cryptidclaw's warriors au #rise of change #spotify #spotify playlist #RoC Playlist #Warriors Playlist #warriors #warrior cats

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rehfan · 2 months

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La Belle Dame avec Merci - Chapter 2: Keeping Up Appearances

Eddie Munson x Unpopular!AFAB!fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ readers only please - minor children DNI! – No Upsidedown; SLOW BURN; Eddie & Reader are both over 18; fake dating/relationship; reader is technically a virgin; mutual pining; Eddie has trust issues; emotional hurt/comfort; masturbation; emotional manipulation; reader is kinda shitty to Eddie; reader gets better; angst; more angst; Eddie’s mom is dead; small act of accidental physical violence; Uncle Wayne is the best

Tagged: @bluestuesday / @ali-r3n / @winchester-angel / @iletmytittiestitty-russ / <— let me know if you want to be added!!

DO NOT POST TO ANY OTHER SITE. My words are mine and mine alone.

Inspired by @/hard-candy-writing ‘s ORIGINAL POST — I sincerely hope I do this justice.

Chapter 1 Tumblr Link -- AO3 LINK — Masterlist link

Eddie was still in a state of shock until the second bell rang and he was officially late for English class. He crept in and sat near the back, your kiss still tingling on his lips, your thighs still in his hands, the weight of you in his lap causing other things to wake up. His knee thrummed under the desk and he could barely pay attention to the creative writing assignment that Mr. Hutchinson was talking about. It was all he could do to try and think of serious things to calm his dick down: accidentally slamming his fingers in the van door, Wayne chewing him out about cigarette burns in the carpet, things like that. The last thing he wanted was to pop a boner during class.

Please, dear God, not here.

The next campaign, buying more guitar strings for Sweetheart, slamming his fingers in the van’s door - again. Any thought he could manage that had nothing to do with the taste of your watermelon Chapstick would be a good thing right now. Because he should definitely not be focusing on how you smelled and whether that was your shampoo or your soap or a perfume you used. Yep. For sure should not be dwelling on what underwear you had on underneath that prim skirt with the slit all the way up it.

Fuck.

He was going to see you again in biology. That was in forty-five minutes. Would you want to sit in his lap again? How could you? You were whole lab tables apart from one another. There was no way to move seats without it being a big deal. Jeff would feel abandoned and who was it? Gail? Gail who shared the lab table with you would probably be put out. But then, he may not even have to worry. It was highly likely that you’d freeze him out. After all, that little display was just improv for the party/jock crowd in the library. He wasn’t stupid. He knew the score.

Sighing deeply, he decided to write a story about an errant knight who had been seduced and charmed and then completely dumped by some woodland fairy.

Was he really going to allow you to run the show, though? To push him this way and that just to satisfy your own strategies? He didn’t want to be used. Not like his uncle’s last girlfriend had used Wayne. Not like his father had used his mother.

He changed the ending of his story. The knight was under a spell. It was broken when he saw her true reflection in the water of the lake. That wasn’t a woodland fairy. That was a witch who wanted him as a blood sacrifice. He threw her in the water and she fizzled, melted, and drowned, screaming in agony. He’d be damned if some deceitful witch was going to get the best of him, no matter how attractive.

~080~

Meanwhile, you sat in your French class, your head swimming with thoughts of brown eyes and curly hair. The scent of him clung to the edges of your brain, a blend of smoke and spice, mixed with the smell of his shampoo.

Well this was inconvenient. You really needed to pass Madame’s pop quiz or you’d ruin your perfect A grade for the semester so far. 90 percent or better or you were a loser. No compromise. You tried your damnedest to focus on the correct past tense conjugation of rêver without focusing on its ironic meaning; all your brain wanted to do was dream.

Those brown eyes… you had never in your life gone for a guy with dark eyes. You had always been a sucker for crystalline blue eyes and maybe some dark lashes, like Brian Bloom has or blond with blue-eyes like John Schneider. Eddie Munson was unlike either man. Not that you were holding your breath about meeting either Brian or John in your lifetime. But Eddie was just SO NOT your type and his sudden presence in your awareness was jarring.

What the hell had you done?

You finished your quiz, but re-read it just in case. Walking it to the front to drop it on the teacher’s desk only to sit back down and sigh, you felt every inch the tragic figure just waiting for class to end. You had probably fucked yourself over. There were only ten questions. You knew you probably screwed up more than one. Boys were clearly nothing but a distraction and here was your proof.

The bell rang again and you gathered your things only to stop in mid-motion at the realization that it was biology next. Would he expect more of the same? You sure as hell left him with a good indication that you were expecting to see him again. See you in biology, lover. Ugh. You cringed at the words.

Maria walked down the corridor with you speaking French like she always did when class was over. It was as if she thought the extra three minutes between classes was supposed to increase her knowledge of the language or something. Internally, you rolled your eyes, but kept smiling at your friend, replying in short answers. Jesus. You weren’t even kind to your actual friends. Who were you?

As you made your way down the hall, some of the kids were staring at you strangely. There was giggling as you passed a gaggle of preppie girls. Word was spreading. It hadn’t reached everyone yet, however. Maria would have pulled you into an empty classroom along the way just to interrogate you. No, it wasn’t everywhere. But it was building. You could feel it, thick in the air, like forest fire smoke. Like the cigarettes you had smelled on Eddie.

Fuck.

Get your head on straight!

Locker first, then class. You were almost late. That wasn’t like you, which showed how reticent you were to actually get to class. If you had the guts, you probably would have skipped. But you were as faithful as a bird dog; you couldn’t be devious. Not to a teacher, anyhow.

The class was almost full with kids coming in around you as you made your way to your normal lab bench. Gail wasn’t there. Was she sick today? You looked to the door in a blind panic for her. If that seat was empty, Eddie could sit there. Or worse: one of the jocks or party kids.

The teacher walked in. The door was going to close. Still no Gail.

“Uh, let’s break it up back there and get to work,” called Mr. Harris. You looked behind you to see Eddie and Jeff standing on either side of Gail who looked like she just lost an argument. You saw her nod at Eddie and take something from his hand. Eddie just grinned and snatched up his book and notebook.

You didn’t know if you were happy or sad, sick or well, dead or alive when Eddie Munson - with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face - plopped his things and himself right down beside you. He folded his arms on the lab table top and put his head down, face angled toward you.

“Hey, lover,’ he said, his voice a low rumble.

Why was there suddenly no air in the room?

Fucking hell. Get a grip!

Somewhere you found the fortitude to banter back. “Hey, cuddle-puppy,” you cooed sardonically, miraculously sounding like a human person with actual confidence. But you had to remind him that this wasn’t really real. Or were you just reminding yourself as his brown eyes melted you from the inside? “How’s my favorite co-conspirator?”

Eddie snickered a laugh. It was born of a nervousness he felt just sitting next to you. Jesus, he just called you ‘lover’! It was a bold move, even for him, but he had to show you he wasn’t scared of you. And when you called him a co-conspirator, that built a knot in his stomach he couldn’t explain. You wanted to continue this? Really? The knot turned sour. He didn’t need you or your lame-ass attempt at calling the cool kids’ bluff. Didn’t matter how pretty you were.

Mr. Harris cleared his throat and started the lesson. Today, you were dissecting frogs. But before you could begin, he had to make sure all of you turned in your permission slips. Eddie reached into his jacket inner pocket and drew his out, opening it up and waiting for Mr. Harris to come around. You noticed the signature.

“Your dad’s name is Wayne?” You were just making conversation. No harm meant by it. Still, you saw Eddie pause and side-eye you, clearly judging you and how best to answer.

Finally he said: “Uncle, actually.”

“Why didn’t your mom sign it?” Again, it was a natural enough question. Your mother had signed your slip and you had turned it in last week. Maybe his parents didn’t want him dissecting frogs and he had to go to another relative for assistance. You didn’t know. How were you supposed to? Eddie Munson was a stranger, really.

“She couldn’t,” he said as Harris took his slip from his fingers. “She’s too busy.”

“Busy? What does she do?”

“She’s the opposite of a helicopter parent.”

“Huh?”

“She took off when I was nine,” he said, watching for your reaction. Watching for the reaction that everyone gave him when they found out about his mom leaving him high and dry. And then dying. Of course, he could have just told you that she was dead, but plenty of people knew that: the school, the cops, Wayne. But no one knew that she died while running away from a man who used to beat the shit out of her. Died because of him chasing her in his car in the middle of winter. Died because she was brave enough to break away and just fucking run. But she couldn’t outrun a Buick. Wayne said she had had plans of coming back for Eddie, but that was a more complicated situation and too big a subject to cover just before the beginning of class.

“Oh.”

And there it was: the look Eddie was so familiar with. The wide eyes, raised eyebrows of a person who couldn’t fathom that a mother could abandon their child. A certain satisfied cruelty settled inside him. His history with his mother was none of your business. This would keep you away from her, and therefore away from him.

“I’m so sorry about that, Eddie.”

And there was the predictable follow up: pity. Sad mournfulness for the poor orphaned boy whose mommy left him all alone. He nodded and continued to quietly regard you. He was watching you, observing like a scientist, distant and evaluating.

To break the awkwardness, you began: “But what about-“ You didn’t finish. You didn’t want to ask any more. His face was placid, but his eyes were still boring into you. You didn’t have the will to continue. Besides, class was starting and you had to pay attention. Prep trays and equipment were being passed around the class by Mr. Harris as well as some hand-picked students and you wanted to make sure you got what you were supposed to for the lesson.

“But what about what?” Eddie prompted you. He was curious but cautious. Was this the witch plotting to spot weakness? He put up his mental defenses and waited.

“No, it’s none of my business. Sorry,” you said.

He leveled his gaze at you for another millisecond. Okay. Maybe you were still the fairy princess. He reached into his mental bag of holding and wielded the shield of humorous deflection and the cudgel of bravery. “Hey now, if we’re going to be co-conspirators, we’ve got to do a little soul-bearing, cupcake.” He tilted his head toward you briefly. “Go on, fire away.”

“What about your dad?” you asked, meekly. The next words poured from you and you felt yourself falling over yourself to navigate the situation and not make him angry. “Or am I getting too personal? I don’t mean to. Sorry if I am. I’m just curious. You can totally tell me to shut up now.” You could feel the blush creep up your ears.

Eddie smiled and ducked his head, cupping a hand to the back of his neck to hide it from you. God, you really were adorable. What in the everloving fuck was Eddie going to do with that?

“My dad couldn’t sign the permission slip because he’s busy being a guest of our fair state,” he said. He took in your puzzled look and whispered, smiling, “He’s in jail, babe. For a long long time.”

“So you live with your Uncle Wayne,” you concluded.

“Boy, you really are as smart as they say,” he said, his tone almost truly proud. Almost. That grin was back and you gave one back at him. Eddie liked that grin. He liked it a lot.

The dead frog was the last thing to be deposited on your wax tray. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, removing his jacket and draping it on his stool before being seated once more. He pulled up his three-quarter sleeves to the elbow.

Tattoos. He has tattoos. You were NOT ready for tattoos. Jesus fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck. You wanted to lick them. And then you remembered where you were.

“See something you like, sugar?”

“What? No! No. Just- I’ve never seen a kid our age with tattoos. That’s all.” The blush you felt pinking your skin could be seen from space. You were sure of it. Jesus.

He leaned in again to talk to you. It seemed he always leaned in when he thought he had something clever to say; it was annoying and alluring at the same time. “Well I do have a few more years on all of the children here,” he said, “or don’t you remember that about me?”

You did. You just… forgot. Something about that niggled in your brain. “Wait. If you’re well over the age of consent, why did you even have to get a permission slip signed?”

He tilted his head. He had to admit, that was a really good question. But he shrugged and countered: “Why did you? Aren’t you eighteen already?”

“Huh, true,” you said. “Maybe it’s a school thing.” you shrugged back at him.

“Heh. Looks like the Establishment has managed to brainwash us already.” He shook his shaggy head. “Well, I feel foolish.”

You had to smile at that. “You are very anti-establishment, aren’t you?”

“You really are getting to know me, huh darlin’?”

“Well,” you replied, whispering conspiratorially again, “what kind of a fake lover would I be if I didn’t get to know my pookie-kins?”

He looked at you with a comically critical face. “I don’t know about you. You may be too smart for me. I usually go for the empty-headed bimbo types.”

“Ah yes… like a jock, only a girl? Body by Jake, brain by Mattel?” you asked. His eyebrows raised and he let out a laugh, short and sharp.

Mr. Harris cleared his throat. “If I may begin?” he asked. The lesson started. Eddie handed you the scalpel with a wink.

You twirled a finger in your hair and looked comically puzzled. “The pointy end goes in the frog, right?” you asked him, giving him your best bimbo impression. Eddie couldn’t help himself; he giggled. He actually fucking giggled. He knew there was more to your game. There had to be. He couldn’t ignore his instincts. But he also knew that you were funny. And smart. And beautiful. And funny, smart, and beautiful totally worked for him.

Fuck.

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