bluefox-13

[bluefox-13]

Little Crow

Mother Miranda X Fem! Reader

TW: Near Death, Experimentation, Panic Attack, Nightmare, Manipulation

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The biting cold of winter gnawed at Y/n's consciousness as she lay on the brink of death. A veil of darkness enveloped her, and the frigid wind whispered it's icy lullaby. In the stillness of the night, Mother Miranda discovered Y/n, a fragile soul on the edge of oblivion. The woman, shrouded in mystery, cradled the unconscious figure and spirited her away to the eerie confines of her hidden laboratory.

When Y/n awoke, the sterile scent of antiseptic assaulted her senses. Confusion etched across her face as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. Mother Miranda loomed over her, a haunting silhouette against the backdrop of medical equipment and arcane symbols. The ethereal figure explained how she had saved Y/n from the clutches of death.

With a furrowed brow, Y/n questioned the circumstances surrounding her rescue, seeking answers in the eyes of Mother Miranda. "Where am I? What happened?" she inquired, her voice a fragile echo in the sterile air.

The cryptic woman revealed the truth, stripping away the illusion of benevolence. "You were on the brink of demise. I saved you. You are in my domain now," Miranda declared with a dispassionate certainty that sent shivers down Y/n's spine.

A chill settled in Y/n's heart as she asked when she would be able to leave. The response was cold and unyielding. "Never," Miranda stated, her voice echoing through the sterile room.

Confused and indignant, Y/n protested, "Why? I didn't ask for your help, and I certainly didn't agree to be your prisoner!"

A smirk played upon Miranda's lips as she revealed her true intentions. "You are mine now. A subject for my experiments. Your destiny is entwined with mine," she asserted, her words a haunting melody that reverberated through the room.

Y/n recoiled, defiance in her eyes. "I am not some property for you to claim! You can't just take me and do as you please!"

Miranda's smirk deepened, and her eyes gleamed with an unsettling confidence. "That's where you're wrong, my dear. In this domain, you are nothing but mine to control and use. Welcome to your new reality."

Days melded into a nightmarish blur as Miranda's relentless experiments continued to unfold upon Y/n. The sterile walls of the laboratory bore witness to the suffering etched across Y/n's face. In a desperate attempt to grasp the reasons behind her torment, Y/n mustered the strength to question Miranda.

"Why me?" Y/n's voice trembled, a plea for answers in the midst of agony.

Miranda responded with cryptic prose that offered no solace. "The tapestry of fate is woven with threads of sacrifice. You are but a pawn in a grand design," she murmured, her gaze fixated on the swirling concoctions in her hands.

A cold shiver ran down Y/n's spine as Miranda injected her with a sedative, the world fading into a hazy dreamscape. As Y/n fought the impending pull of unconsciousness, she struggled to voice her questions, each attempt drowned in the intoxicating numbness.

The next awakening brought little respite. Y/n found herself lying on the sterile bed once more, Miranda meticulously recording notes from the latest experiment. Desperation clawed at Y/n's chest as she summoned the strength to speak once more.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Y/n's words wavered, the echo of her plea lingering in the sterile air.

Miranda glanced at her with an indifferent gaze before resuming her work, the answer elusive as ever. Y/n, tired of the ceaseless torment, reached the precipice of despair. In a voice laced with weariness, she begged, "If I can't leave, if there's no escape from this nightmare, just end it. Kill me and free me from this agony."

A chilling silence enveloped the room as Miranda paused, her expression unreadable. The weight of Y/n's plea lingered, the room suffused with an unsettling tension, as if the very air held its breath, awaiting a response from the mistress of this macabre domain.

Y/n's eyes fluttered open once more, the stark reality of her captivity settling like a heavy shroud. In a desperate attempt to break free from this nightmare, she pleaded with Miranda once again, her voice tinged with both desperation and frustration.

"Please, Miranda, let me go. I beg you. I can't take this any longer," Y/n implored, her eyes searching for a hint of mercy in Miranda's gaze.

But Miranda, unmoved by the plea, shook her head. "You are destined for something greater, my dear. I won't let you go," she declared with an air of finality.

Confusion and fear gripped Y/n as she questioned, "Destined for what? Why won't you just tell me the truth?"

Miranda, ever cryptic, revealed her grand design. "You will be the fifth lord of the village, ruling over your own domain. The cadou will be implanted within you, granting you unimaginable power," she explained, a twisted sense of pride in her proclamation.

Y/n recoiled at the revelation, a surge of defiance rising within her. "I won't be part of your twisted plans! I won't let you turn me into some monster!" she protested, her voice laced with determination.

Miranda's gaze remained unyielding. "As long as you don't succumb to the lycan transformation, you shall rule over your domain with power and influence," she stated, as if sealing Y/n's fate with the utterance of those words.

Despite Y/n's fervent resistance, Miranda stood firm, her decision unwavering. "The procedure will take place tomorrow evening. The other lords will bear witness to your ascension," Miranda declared, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.

The weight of impending doom settled upon Y/n's shoulders, the realization that escape was futile. The once-vivid hope for freedom now flickered, threatened by the encroaching darkness of Miranda's ambitions. Tomorrow would unveil a twisted destiny, and Y/n could only brace herself for the unknown horrors that awaited

The night of the ominous procedure descended, casting a shadow over Y/n's fragile hope. Miranda led her to a dimly lit chamber, where the other lords awaited—Alcina Dimitrescu, Donna Beneviento, Karl Heisenberg, and Salvatore Moreau. Their presence intensified the air of dread that hung over the room.

Alcina, statuesque and commanding, fixated her gaze on Y/n, a predatory glint in her eyes. Before the procedure began, she approached with an air of casual flirtation, causing Miranda's envious ire to flare.

"Well, well, Miranda, you've found quite the interesting specimen," Alcina purred, her gaze lingering on Y/n. "Quite a pity to subject such beauty to your experiments."

Miranda, barely containing her jealousy, shot Alcina a warning glance before dragging Y/n toward the cold, metallic operating table. The restraints clamped around Y/n's limbs, rendering her immobile as Miranda prepared for the procedure.

In a hushed tone, Miranda informed Y/n, "I won't sedate you. The pain will be excruciating, you may pass out if it becomes too much. Do try to endure it."

Terror etched across Y/n's face as she pleaded, "Please, Miranda, don't do this! I beg you!"

Ignoring her pleas, Miranda proceeded with the surgery. Y/n's back lay exposed as Miranda carefully opened it, revealing the vulnerability of her spine. The cadou, an otherworldly entity, awaited its integration.

As the cadou attached itself to Y/n's spinal cord, an indescribable pain erupted through her body. Each invasive touch sent waves of agony coursing through her, and the room spun in a disorienting blur. Y/n's cries of anguish filled the chamber, the torment escalating with each passing moment.

Alcina observed with detached interest, a smirk playing on her lips. "Fascinating, isn't it?" she remarked, her tone betraying a hint of sadistic pleasure.

Y/n, on the brink of unconsciousness, gasped for breath between tortured sobs. "Please, make it stop!" she begged, her plea lost in the sea of agony.

The room echoed with the unsettling sounds of the unholy procedure, and as Y/n succumbed to the unbearable pain, the darkness claimed her consciousness, leaving her at the mercy of Miranda's experiments.

As the procedure unfolded, Y/n's body underwent a miraculous transformation. The wound on her back healed before their eyes, revealing the regenerative capabilities bestowed upon her by the cadou. Satisfied with the apparent success, Miranda covered Y/n with a blanket and gently laid her on her back, allowing her to rest while she conferred with the other lords.

As Miranda engaged in conversation with the remaining lords, Alcina couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that something was amiss. Her sharp instincts led her back to Y/n's side. The sight of her serene form beneath the blanket belied the turmoil within.

A few minutes passed, and Alcina's suspicion deepened. She leaned in to examine Y/n more closely, her hand gently brushing against Y/n's forehead. Alarmed, she realized that Y/n was burning up with a fever.

"Something's not right," Alcina muttered to herself, her concern deepening as Y/n began to stir.

Y/n's eyes fluttered open, her gaze unfocused and delirious. In a weak voice, she mumbled, "Am I dying?"

Alcina, kneeling beside her, brushed the hair from Y/n's face with a soft touch. "No, my dear. You're going to be okay," she reassured, trying to offer comfort amidst the uncertainty.

The three other lords had departed, leaving Alcina alone with the ailing Y/n. Concern etched across her elegant features, Alcina made her way to Mother Miranda to share her discovery.

"There's something wrong with your experiment. The girl has a fever, and she seems... weakened," Alcina stated, her gaze unwavering.

Miranda, initially dismissive, turned her attention to Alcina. "It's merely a side effect. The transformation is taxing on the body. She will recover," she asserted, though a flicker of uncertainty crossed her face.

Alcina, not entirely convinced, kept a watchful eye on Y/n, determined to uncover the mystery shrouding the girl's newfound existence in the village of shadows.

An hour passed, and Alcina vigilantly watched over the delirious Y/n as Miranda continued her cleanup and note-taking from the procedure. The room, once filled with the unsettling sounds of experimentation, now echoed with an uneasy silence.

Y/n stirred once more, her eyes clouded with confusion and her words a desperate murmur. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." she repeated, the weight of remorse heavy in her delirium.

Alcina, attempting to make sense of the apologies, leaned in to question Y/n. "Sorry for what, my dear? What troubles you?" she inquired, her concern etched across her regal features.

Before Y/n could respond, a sudden and violent seizure gripped her, her eyes rolling back, and her body convulsing. Alcina reacted swiftly, rushing to Mother Miranda to alert her to the dire situation.

Initially skeptical, Miranda tried to dismiss Alcina's concerns, but as the severity became evident, her cold exterior cracked. Panic flashed in Miranda's eyes as she rushed to Y/n's side, abandoning her usual composure. "What is happening?" Miranda demanded, urgency replacing her usual stoicism.

Alcina, maintaining her calm, swiftly procured a sedative and a needle, handing them to Miranda. "She's having a seizure. We need to sedate her," Alcina asserted, her eyes locked on Y/n's convulsing form.

Miranda, finally acknowledging the gravity of the situation, nodded and carefully dosed the sedative before injecting it into Y/n's arm. The seizure subsided, leaving Y/n disoriented, her gaze searching for something to anchor her faltering consciousness.

Miranda, an uncharacteristic gentleness in her touch, carded her hand through Y/n's hair, trying to comfort the distressed soul. "It's alright. You're going to be okay," Miranda murmured, her usual air of authority replaced by genuine concern.

Y/n, still caught in the throes of delirium, continued to murmur apologies, her voice fading as the sedative took effect. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to..." she whispered before succumbing to the soothing embrace of unconsciousness, leaving Miranda and Alcina to grapple with the uncertainties of her tortured existence.

Y/n lay in peaceful slumber in a quiet room, the traces of the recent ordeal evident on her exhausted form. Meanwhile, Miranda and Alcina retreated to a dimly lit corner to discuss the unsettling events that had unfolded.

Alcina, her piercing gaze fixed on Miranda, couldn't resist probing the woman about her unexpected display of gentleness. "I never took you for a caretaker, Miranda. What is it about this girl that softened your resolve?" Alcina's tone held a curious edge, her eyes searching for the cracks in Miranda's composed facade.

Miranda, initially dismissive, tried to deflect the question. "It's merely practical. She's a valuable asset, and her well-being is crucial for the success of my experiments."

Alcina, undeterred, continued to press. "Practicality, Miranda? I've seen you deal with subjects before, but I've never seen you show such concern. What's different this time?"

Miranda's gaze drifted towards the sleeping Y/n, a subtle smile gracing her features. Alcina, noticing the uncharacteristic expression, couldn't help but smirk knowingly. "Ah, Miranda, it seems you've developed a soft spot for the girl. How intriguing."

Rolling her eyes, Miranda attempted to maintain her stoic composure. "Don't be absurd, Alcina. I have no sentimental attachments."

But Alcina persisted, her smirk widening. "Oh, spare me. I can see it in your eyes. There's more to this than practicality. Admit it, Miranda, there are feelings involved."

Miranda's stern facade wavered, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her features. She glanced back at Y/n, still peacefully asleep, and finally conceded, "Fine, there might be... something. But it's irrelevant. She's a means to an end."

Alcina, satisfied with her victory, chuckled softly. "Love can be a powerful force, Miranda. Don't underestimate its influence, especially in these peculiar circumstances."

Miranda shot Alcina a warning glare, but a hint of uncertainty lingered in her eyes. As they continued to observe the slumbering Y/n, the room held an air of unspoken complexity, leaving the emotions between them shrouded in the village's lingering shadows.

Days passed, and Y/n's recovery unfolded slowly. The room, once filled with the tense atmosphere of experiments, now echoed with the soft sounds of her mending breaths. Miranda and Alcina, though each harboring their own thoughts, found themselves drawn back to the side of the convalescent.

Y/n, still in the embrace of healing dreams, remained oblivious to the silent conversations that transpired between Miranda and Alcina. The air hung thick in the room, as both women navigated the uncharted waters of emotions they were reluctant to acknowledge.

Miranda, ever the stoic figure, observed Y/n with a mix of clinical interest and an unfamiliar tenderness. Alcina, however, couldn't resist the opportunity to tease the usually unyielding Mother Miranda. "I must say, Miranda, you're becoming quite the caregiver. Who would have thought?"

Miranda shot Alcina a withering glance. "This changes nothing. She's still a tool, a means to an end," she asserted, though the conviction in her voice wavered.

Alcina, undeterred, circled the topic like a predator circling its prey. "And yet, you smile when you look at her. I never thought I'd see the day when Mother Miranda, the cold and calculating, would show such vulnerability."

Miranda's gaze flickered towards Y/n, who stirred in her sleep. The small smile that graced Miranda's lips went unnoticed by her, but not by the persistent Alcina.

"I wonder, Miranda, are you starting to care for her in a way that goes beyond your experiments?" Alcina's voice held a teasing lilt, testing the boundaries of Miranda's carefully guarded emotions.

Miranda sighed, her defenses momentarily crumbling. "Feelings have no place in my work. This is merely an unexpected complication."

Alcina, satisfied with her playful interrogation, leaned against the wall. "Time will tell, Miranda. Sometimes the unexpected can lead to the most intriguing developments."

As the room returned to its hushed stillness, the unresolved tension lingered in the air. Miranda, with a final glance at the resting Y/n, left the room, her thoughts trailing in her wake. The delicate dance of emotions within the village of shadows continued, shrouded in mysteries that even the formidable Mother Miranda couldn't fully unravel.

Y/n awakened in an unfamiliar bedroom, the soft glow of an early dawn filtering through the curtains. The room felt both foreign and oddly comforting. Wrapping a blanket around herself, she ventured further into the unfamiliar space. The mirror above the dresser caught her eye, and as she glanced into it, a shiver ran down her spine. Staring back at her were piercing yellow eyes, a stark contrast to the familiar gaze she once knew. 

A sense of disquiet settled in her chest as Y/n made her way through the house. The walls adorned with paintings told tales of a history she couldn't quite grasp. As she ascended a staircase, she found herself drawn to the dim light seeping through a partially open door. Pushing the door open, Y/n discovered a room bathed in the soft glow of lanterns. Books lined shelves, creating a haven for knowledge. It was a library, a vast collection of forgotten stories and untold secrets. 

As Y/n continued to explore the depths of the library, she stumbled upon an unexpected sight. There, on a cozy couch, sat Mother Miranda, appearing surprisingly domestic. The ambient light revealed the striking features that had been concealed by the formidable facade—piercing blue eyes, defined cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and long, flowing blonde hair. Y/n found herself momentarily captivated by the unexpected beauty of the woman. 

Lost in her observations, Y/n failed to notice Miranda rising from the couch and silently approaching. The sudden presence startled her, and Y/n turned to find Miranda standing before her. With a teasing smirk, Miranda directed Y/n's face up by her chin, forcing her to meet those intense blue eyes. 

"Well, little crow, did you enjoy the view?" Miranda's voice dripped with amusement as her fingers traced lightly along Y/n's jawline and down her neck. Y/n's breath hitched, the unexpected intimacy causing a blush to creep across her cheeks. 

Miranda, reveling in the effect, continued to tease. "You seem quite taken by the beauty that's been right in front of you all along. Did you think I was only capable of cruelty?" 

Y/n stammered, attempting to regain composure. "I... I just didn't expect to see you like this." 

Miranda chuckled, the sultry sound echoing in the library. "Expectations can be deceiving, little crow. There's more to me than meets the eye." 

The teasing continued as Miranda leaned in, her lips grazing Y/n's ear. "You know, little crow, you're quite enchanting when you're flustered. It's a sight to behold." 

Y/n, now thoroughly flustered, turned away, attempting to hide her embarrassment. Miranda's sultry chuckle filled the air, and she whispered something that made Y/n's blush deepen. 

"Such a delicate little thing, aren't you? Easily rattled." Miranda's voice was a sultry purr as she continued to playfully torment Y/n. "But there's a certain allure in vulnerability, don't you think?" 

As the teasing dance between them unfolded, the library became a stage for the interplay of emotions, leaving Y/n caught in the intricate web that Mother Miranda seemed to delight in weaving.

Y/n, still slightly flustered from Miranda's teasing, attempted to regain her composure. Clearing her throat, she decided to address the pressing matter at hand. "Mother Miranda, can you please explain what happened during the experiment? I need to understand."

Miranda, with an air of mystery, simply responded, "All in good time, little crow. Right now, you should focus on resting." Her tone left no room for negotiation, and Y/n, unaware of her own fatigue, reluctantly agreed to heed Miranda's advice.

Guiding Y/n back to the room she had awakened in, Miranda spoke softly, "You'll find everything you need in here. Rest well. I'm just across the hall if you require anything."

As Miranda bid her goodnight, Y/n couldn't shake the sense of vulnerability that lingered between them. A step forward from Miranda closed the distance, and Y/n instinctively took a step back, her back meeting the door. A question caught in her throat, silenced by the unexpected proximity.

With a tenderness that contradicted her usual demeanor, Miranda placed a gentle kiss on the corner of Y/n's mouth. "Goodnight, my dear," she murmured before retreating to her own room, leaving Y/n standing there, stunned and breathless.

The closing of Miranda's door jolted Y/n back to reality, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The woman's unexpected gesture left Y/n grappling with a newfound awareness, a whisper of desire lingering in the air of the village of shadows. As Y/n settled into the room, the mysteries surrounding her and Mother Miranda only deepened, leaving her with more questions than answers as she succumbed to the beckoning embrace of sleep. 

Miranda, having concluded her work in the lab, was making her way back to her room when she heard a faint murmur emanating from Y/n's room. A subtle hesitation gripped her, but an inexplicable concern propelled her forward. Something compelled Miranda to check on the younger woman.

Upon entering Y/n's room, the sight that greeted Miranda was disconcerting. Y/n thrashed in her sleep, as if caught in the clutches of an unseen adversary. Miranda, suppressing her usual stoicism, approached the bedside with a mix of curiosity and worry.

She leaned in, her voice a gentle murmur, "Y/n, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

Y/n jolted awake, eyes wide and frantic, scanning the room. When her gaze finally settled on Miranda, relief and fear mingled in her expression. Her body trembled violently, and it was evident that the nightmare had left its mark.

Miranda reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Y/n's shoulder. "It's over now. You're safe," she murmured, attempting to ground the distressed woman.

However, as Miranda spoke, Y/n's eyes seemed to lose focus, the distant look of derealization clouding her gaze. She shook uncontrollably, caught in the aftermath of the vivid dream that still haunted her subconscious.

"Y/n, can you hear me?" Miranda tried to connect with her, concern etched on her features. Y/n's distant gaze met hers, but the glazed-over look persisted, as if she were trapped in the remnants of a fading nightmare.

As Y/n struggled in the grip of derealization, her trembling hand reached out blindly, seeking something tangible to anchor her in reality. Miranda, attuned to the vulnerability of the moment, gently intercepted Y/n's searching hand, clasping it in her own.

With a tenderness that belied her usual demeanor, Miranda held Y/n's hand securely, occasionally squeezing it as if to reassure her. "Come back to me, little crow," she whispered, her voice a soothing melody cutting through the disorienting haze.

Miranda continued to speak softly, coaxing Y/n back to the present moment. "You're safe. Focus on my voice, on the touch of my hand. Breathe, my dear. In and out. In and out."

Y/n, still caught in the aftermath of the nightmare, slowly started to respond to Miranda's gentle guidance. Her vacant gaze began to regain focus, and Miranda maintained a steady presence, offering a lifeline to the shaken woman.

As Y/n gradually returned to the present, the tremors persisted, and Miranda adapted her approach. She guided Y/n to hold a piece of ice, the sudden cold a sensory shock that could help ground her. "Feel the cold, little crow. Focus on the sensation. It's real. You're here."

Miranda continued to talk Y/n through the grounding process, her voice a steady anchor in the tumultuous sea of emotions. "You're strong, my dear. You've faced nightmares before, and you'll conquer them again. Breathe with me. In and out. In and out."

Miranda, her concern evident, gently asked Y/n, "What happened, my dear?" Y/n, still recovering from the nightmare-induced haze, responded in a detached manner, "Nightmare. Don't wanna talk."

Miranda nodded understandingly, respecting Y/n's need for silence. "That's okay, my dear. Take your time," she reassured, her voice a soft whisper.

Sensing Y/n's need for grounding, Miranda delicately broached the topic of physical comfort. "Is it okay if I offer a bit more comfort, perhaps some physical contact?" she asked, her gaze steady.

Y/n, still shaken but willing to accept solace, nodded in agreement. "Yes, please," she replied, her voice a fragile whisper.

Miranda, with a tenderness that defied her usual demeanor, wiped the lingering tears from Y/n's cheeks. She then cupped Y/n's face, her touch gentle yet firm, providing a stabilizing anchor for the distressed woman. Y/n, seeking solace, leaned into Miranda's touch, finding a momentary refuge in the connection.

As the warmth of Miranda's hand enveloped her, Y/n felt a fleeting sense of security. Miranda, respecting the delicate balance, continued to caress Y/n's cheek, offering a silent reassurance through the language of touch.

In the quiet aftermath, Miranda broached another option. "Would you like to stay here, or would you feel more comfortable in my room?" she inquired, her concern unwavering.

Y/n, craving the presence of the person who had become an unexpected source of comfort, hesitated before answering, "I want to go to your room."

Miranda nodded, accepting Y/n's choice without judgment. "Very well, my dear. Let's go," she said, guiding Y/n toward her room, the shadows of the village concealing the complexities of their connection, woven through shared nightmares and moments of vulnerability.

Miranda guided Y/n to her room, a space that held the echo of enigmatic secrets. As they entered, Miranda ensured Y/n was comfortably settled in bed. The room, bathed in a soft glow from a small lamp, retained an air of serenity.

Miranda excused herself briefly to get ready for bed. Before leaving, Y/n, with a quiet vulnerability, whispered, "Please don't leave." Miranda, stroking Y/n's hair soothingly, assured her, "I'll be right back. Just getting ready."

True to her word, Miranda returned after a brief moment, finding Y/n still awaiting her presence. She dimmed the bright overhead light, leaving only the gentle illumination of the lamp on her side of the bed. The room now held a subtle warmth, a sanctuary against the shadows that lingered beyond.

Miranda slipped into bed, opening her arms in an unspoken invitation. "I'm here, only if you're comfortable," she whispered, her voice a soft reassurance.

Y/n, grateful for the offered comfort, responded by snuggling close to Miranda, wrapping an arm around her waist. She rested her face in the crook of Miranda's neck, finding solace in the reassuring scent that enveloped her – spicy, warm, and infused with the subtle allure of amber.

In the quiet intimacy of Miranda's room, Y/n found herself grappling with the intricacies of her emotions. She hesitated for a moment before expressing her inner turmoil. "I don't understand this," she admitted quietly.

Miranda, lying beside her, propped herself up on an elbow, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "What do you mean?" she inquired, the dim light of the room casting a gentle glow on their faces.

Y/n sighed, her gaze fixed on an indistinct point in the room. "I should be mad at you for what you did, for everything, but I can't seem to be," she confessed, a hint of confusion in her voice.

Miranda, understanding the weight of Y/n's words, reached over and gently covered them both with the comforter. With a tenderness that belied her usual stoicism, she traced random patterns on Y/n's back while her thumb caressed the younger woman's cheek. "Emotions are complex, my dear. Sometimes, it takes time to unravel them, to understand the why and the how," she offered, her voice a soothing murmur.

Y/n, comforted by Miranda's touch, hummed softly in response. They lingered in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, the unspoken understanding between them weaving a delicate tapestry.

Breaking the quietude, Y/n finally spoke, "Thank you, Mother Miranda."

Miranda, her eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and curiosity, gently corrected, "You can call me Miranda, dear." She quirked an eyebrow, prompting Y/n to explain her gratitude.

Y/n hesitated for a moment before answering, "Thank you for saving me."

"You're welcome, my dear," Miranda responded, her gaze softening as she continued to trace patterns on Y/n's back. "You were worth saving, and the reason goes beyond what I had initially thought those weeks ago."

Y/n, looking at Miranda with a mix of curiosity and confusion, questioned, "What do you mean? What's the reason?"

Miranda, her expression momentarily contemplative, sighed softly. "It's a complex matter, emotions. I find myself quite taken with you, more so than I had anticipated. The reasons, the nuances, they extend beyond the boundaries I had set for myself."

Y/n's brows furrowed in genuine confusion. "Taken with me? But why? After everything that happened..."

Miranda, still tracing comforting patterns on Y/n's back, met her gaze.

 "Emotions don't always adhere to logic, my dear. There's something about you that intrigues me, something that defies the usual calculations of my mind."

Y/n, grappling with the unexpected revelation, asked, "What do you mean by 'taken with me'? What are these feelings?"

Miranda, her usual enigmatic facade momentarily replaced by a hint of vulnerability, admitted, "I'm not entirely sure. It's a puzzle even I haven't fully deciphered. But there's a connection, a fascination that goes beyond the confines of my usual pursuits."

Y/n, despite the confusion, felt a sense of warmth in Miranda's admission. "Taken with me?" she repeated, a small smile playing on her lips. "I never thought I'd hear Mother Miranda say something like that."

Miranda chuckled softly. "Nor did I, my dear. But here we are, entangled in the complexities of emotions that neither of us fully understands."

Y/n, feeling a surge of confidence, sat up in bed, facing Miranda. The older woman's gaze fell on Y/n's now yellow eyes, and she couldn't help but comment, "Quite the vibrant change in eye color, my dear."

Y/n, embarrassed, buried her face in her hands. Miranda, true to her nature, seized the opportunity to tease. "Oh, come now. Don't hide those captivating eyes. They suit you, little crow."

After enduring enough of Miranda's teasing, Y/n playfully exclaimed, "Enough, Miranda. Seriously, stop."

Miranda, ever the provocateur, quirked an eyebrow and smirked, clearly enjoying the reaction she was provoking. But before she could respond, Y/n decided to take matters into her own hands—quite literally.

In a surprising move, Y/n shut Miranda up by leaning in and capturing her lips in a kiss. Miranda, initially caught off guard, quickly reciprocated, the tension between them shifting into an unexpected yet charged intimacy.

When they finally pulled apart, Miranda looked at Y/n with a mix of surprise and intrigue. The room was enveloped in a comfortable silence for a few moments, both women seemingly stunned by the sudden turn of events.

Miranda, not one to let a moment pass, pulled Y/n closer until she was straddling her lap. Y/n gasped at the sudden closeness, locking eyes with Miranda. The older woman smirked, reveling in the effect she had on the younger one.

As Y/n began to question Miranda, she was promptly cut off mid-sentence. Miranda, with a devilish glint in her eyes, decided actions spoke louder than words.

Their lips met again in a fervent kiss, the air thick with a newfound tension. Y/n, lacing her fingers through Miranda's hair, surrendered to the unexpected yet irresistible pull of desire, the village of shadows bearing witness to the unfolding of a connection that transcended the boundaries of reason and expectation.

In the months that followed, Y/n had embraced her role as the fifth lord with a fierce determination, earning a reputation for being cold, calculating, and intimidating. The powers granted by the Cadou had transformed her into a formidable force—rapid regeneration, the ability to shapeshift into a crow, mental manipulation, superhuman strength, speed, biological immortality, and unwavering durability. These powers mirrored those of Mother Miranda, forging a dynamic partnership that became the talk of the village.

The relationship between Y/n and Miranda had evolved into a public affair, sparking fear among the villagers. Disobeying any of the lords now meant facing not only the wrath of the individual lord but also the combined might of Mother Miranda and Y/n. The village quivered under the weight of their influence, and the dynamic duo maintained order with an iron grip.

Despite the fear they instilled, Mother Miranda and Y/n worked tirelessly with the other lords to resurrect Miranda's long-lost daughter. The process was intricate and delicate, requiring the combined powers and knowledge of the lords. Y/n, serving as a steadfast support by Miranda's side, became an integral part of the resurrection plan.

The relationship between Mother Miranda and Y/n deepened as they navigated the complexities of their roles, both in the village and in their personal lives. The shared goal of reuniting Miranda with her daughter forged a connection that surpassed the surface-level fears and rumors. Together, they faced the challenges posed by their powers, their duties, and the intricate web of emotions that bound them in the village of shadows. 

[bluefox-13]

Happiest of birthdays, Fae! 💋 Please may I request some mommy kink with Cersei? Thank yooouuu 💕

*mwah* Thank you, Ange (I know the day has passed, but this still gives me the warm and fuzzies). This request is top tier and I had a lot of fun writing this one

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: Light primal/knife/blood play, mommy kink, spanking, sensual wlw times, mocking of religion, and delicious Domme Cersei

*comments/reblogs are appreciated

A shiver of anticipation ran through you while your bare feet padded against the smooth stones of the dark hallway.  Your pace quickened as you navigated deeper through Maegor’s Holdfast, which housed the private quarters of Queen Cersei.  The flickering flames from the torches on the walls cast eerie shadows and painted the corridor in diluted hues of amber, gray, and ochre.  

You heard the soft thud of boots behind you before you turned a corner, pressing your back against the cool, stone wall.  Your heart thumped in your chest, the sound flooding your ears. You wondered if the Queen could hear it.  No, ‘twas most impossible, yet…dragons used to roam the skies.  The notion of that–true though you knew it to be–seemed much more unlikely than a lioness being able to hear her prey’s fear. 

“I’m getting close, little cub,” the Queen taunted, before inhaling deeply. “The air is thick with your scent. Jasmine with just a hint of sweet vanilla. Reminds me of the cream you love to lick off cakes,” Cersei’s voice echoed down the hall, seeming to bounce off every crevice.

You cursed yourself for donning your favorite oil before the chase; you should have been wise enough to rinse it off, and now it only served to betray your hiding place.  However, lionesses loved their cubs; mayhaps she would show you mercy.  You were her favorite lady, after all, and the blessing of your Redwyne name kept her drowning in her favorite wines. You could taste your pulse in your throat as it pounded, thudding heavier and heavier with each of your shallow, fearful breaths.  The potent jolts of panic made your head spin, causing little white stars to dance behind the shadows of your hooded eyelids.  

The priceless bauble around your neck–a gold choker inlaid with large rubies that you had snatched impulsively, triggering Cersei’s sadistic game–suddenly felt constricting and heavy.  Even if you were the Queen’s favorite, you should not have been so bold as to don her jewelry without her permission. And now, you would pay the price.

“Found you, little cub,” Cersei hummed when she rounded the dimly lit corner. Her crimson lips, stained their unnatural shade with pomegranate juice, twisted into a scornful smirk. “Silly little cub, believing she could hide from me.” You heard a soft rustle before the glint of light off the dagger caught your eyes.

The cold steel of the dagger traced over the curve of your cheek before caressing down your jaw and neck, the tip of the sharp blade eventually pressing against your heaving bosom. An intense shiver rippled through you and fear twisted in your throat, yet your eyes were surely blown wide with lust–for you loved any type of attention your lady deigned to show you, even if it was torturous.  

One hand gripped the vibrant, blue silk of your gown as you swallowed hard, before bravely flickering your gaze up to meet the Queen’s. She regarded you with disdain, a sinister look in her aqua-hued eyes, golden waves toppling down her shoulders and framing her devastatingly beautiful face. For this occasion, she had forgone her typical attire. Instead of one of her gowns of sumptuously stitched brocade, the Queen wore a ribbed, black tunic that hugged her body tightly,  accompanied by black breeches, leather boots, and a shimmering, steel breastplate affixed over top.  

 She was every inch a dangerous huntress–a ruthless lioness ready to pounce and snap the neck of her prey.  The blade pressed harder against your exposed skin, and a sharp bite of pain bloomed through your body as a few warm droplets of blood burst forth.  The cut was superficial, but enough to elicit a whimper from your trembling lips.

“I beg for mercy, Your Grace,” you pleaded.

“Pity, little cub,” the Queen hissed. “For I have none to give.”

“Naught an ounce? Even for your precious cub?” You batted your lashes as a rivulet of blood trickled down over the tantalizing swell of your breasts, pushed up by the tight lacing of the gown. “Mayhaps… if I appeal towards the Mother?”

Cersei’s breath hitched, red lips twitching.  ‘Twas her one weakness in this world–her role as a mother, as the fierce lioness who would gladly watch the whole world burn in order to protect her cubs.  

And you were one of them, weren’t you not?  You might not have burst from her womb, but she had nurtured and protected you from a young age, even allowing you to suckle at her breast from time to time. Apart from Jaime, you were her favorite little plaything–always easy to bend to her will and perpetually eager to buckle to her whims.

“The Mother is most forgiving, sweetling,” Cersei mused, before she removed the dagger from your bosom, slipping the scarlet-stained blade into the leather sheath strapped around her thigh.  Her thumb swiped across the blood left above the swell of your breasts before pressing the digit against your lower lip, leaving a smudge behind on the tender skin.  You began to greedily suckle her thumb inside your mouth, the sharp copper flavor of your blood and the salty tang of her skin mingling obscenely on your tongue.

She pulled her thumb away with a loud pop before her lips pressed against your own.  The kiss was sensual and skilled, bearing the mark of an adept woman who tended to get everything she wanted.  “Let us retire, then, little cub,” she whispered, the hot caress of her breath teasing against your kiss-bitten lips.

Her hand slipped into yours, guiding you through the hallways to the warmth and safety of her chambers; almost glowing in a yellow hue from the numerous candles placed all over the room.  ‘Twas the zenith of the long summer, according to the Maesters, and warm winds drifted through the parted doors of the terrace, ruffling the shimmering curtains of crimson and gold.

“On your knees, little cub,” she cooed, her saccharine command practically dripping honey but still bearing a hint of danger. 

You obeyed, dropping to your knees in front of her and clasping your hands together in an affectation of piety as she moved behind you to undo the stolen choker.  Neither of you were held tight to the Seven, but pretending that you were certainly made for fun games; though, you were certain that would be frowned upon. For a moment, you imagined your own Septa scolding you for such vulgar thoughts, a delighted giggle pouring from your lips.

“What is so amusing, little cub?” Cersei asked, peering down at you with a stern gaze after placing her jewelry securely away.

“‘Tis nothing… Mother,” you responded, cheeks hot with shame.

Without warning, she pressed two fingers into your mouth, gagging you on them as they became coated in your saliva.  “‘Tis much better when you are silent, little cub,” she chuckled, withdrawing her fingers a few moments later and wiping them dry on the sleeve of your dress. “Though, I do believe you are meant to be praying for mercy.”

“Gentle Mother, font of mercy, I do beseech thee for kindness and forgiveness, might you pity your ever-faithful servant. I promise to devote my life in service to thee,” you whispered obediently, eyes wide and pitiful, hands still clasped tightly in front of you in a motion of prayer.

An amused smile danced across the Queen’s face.  “Hmm, that was quite virtuous, little cub.  You have appealed to my generous nature–that is, if you’re willing to delve deeper into offense with me.  I promise it shall be worth it.”

“I would do anything for my mother.”

“Then come, little cub, and undress me.”

You stood and took great care to remove Cersei’s shimmering silver breastplate first before the rest of her clothing until she stood bare in front of you. She was divine–her body full and perfect, even after birthing three children.  The golden tendrils of her hair spilled across her creamy, unclad skin, brushing enticingly over her rosy nipples.  

You removed your gown next, allowing the Queen to take in the sight of you, naked and ready for her to devour, before falling into the bed, the two of you becoming a mess of tangled limbs and sharp bites.  Warm flesh molded together as you rutted against her smooth thigh, leaving a trail of mess behind.  Your mouth sought out a rosy nipple, drawing it between your lips as your fingers curved inside of her.  She wiggled beneath you, arching her back as a moan spilled forth from her red lips.  A fainter red flush spread through her body as you worked her to her peak.  In this moment, she was not the Mother, but the very image of the beautiful Maiden, flushed with youth as she soaked your fingers.

You released your mouth and withdrew your fingers, lewdly sucking them clean as she watched, one dark brow arched.  She then moved quickly and with stealth, much like the animal of her family crest, to trap you on your belly.  You savored the sweet sting of pain that followed, making you gasp and mewl as her palm connected with the tender skin of your rump several times, until a sweet burn settled across it.

“Such a naughty little cub,” she scolded, hands kneading the abused flesh of your backside, “tasting the Queen is a favor with which few are blessed, yet you shamelessly indulge yourself like the spoiled little brat you are.” 

Hmmm, she would know. You could not help but chuckle to yourself. 

“A good mother knows when to have a firm hand,” she whispered as she admired her handiwork, and surely, she could see the arousal glistening between your thighs.  Her fingers slipped teasingly over you until she found what she sought–your sweet little pearl.  

Your toes curled as the soft pad of one finger soothingly stimulated the bud, pressure building deep within your belly.

“Mother…. ah…. Mama! Mummy!” you mewled out.  That latter term you had not uttered in many moons–not since you were a very small child.  The power Cersei held over you had reduced you to a whimpering little mess of a girl.  You nearly begged for a thrust of her fingers or her tongue, but knew you’d be denied.  Instead, you were thankful for her touch as you rode out the delicious high as you released.

“If you ever steal from me again, I’ll ensure you feel every bite of the cane, little cub,” she whispered into your ear.

General tag list: @borikenlove @targaryenbrainrot @valeskafics @aemondx @willowbrookesblog @watercolorskyy @oneeyedvisenya @silverwinged @megatardisbaby

[bluefox-13]

Painted in Red (Lilith x Reader)

Hi all, after having the brainworms for Diablo 4 for a while I really wanted to write something like this :) I hope you all enjoy.

Content: Lilith x Reader, violence, dubcon kissing, descriptions of blood, biting Words: 7.1k After being ambushed by Lilith's forces while investigating demonic activity under order of the Cathedral of Light, you wake up a prisoner, the Daughter of Hatred your captor. No amount of training could prepare you for what she had planned.

(and you can find it on ao3 here!)

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The first thing you feel when you come to consciousness is pain. Twisting, excruciating pain, exploding across your chest. You don’t have enough energy to open your eyes, so you decide to focus on breathing instead. You crawl through your memory, trying to find where everything went wrong.

The Cathedral of Light had heard whispers of demonic activity in the west, and decided to investigate. At the behest of Prava, you and several other commanders were instructed to organize squads and march to the last reported site of activity.

Upon arrival, the first thing you had noticed was how wrong the atmosphere felt. This place should have been temperate. Some of the finest drink in the region originated from here. And yet the sky was dark and churning, almost violent. The flora that you could identify looked wilted. Life itself seemed to have been sucked from the earth, and as your fellow captains took note, your grip tightened on your spear.

Being high up in the Church afforded you luxuries not seen by the common soldier — embossed armor bore the mark of the Cathedral, providing both ample comfort and a powerful defense. Your holy weapons, forged on blessed anvils, almost hummed with their purity. But nothing could be created to defend your mind against its own worst enemy: fear.

You heard several of the men behind you begin to fall behind as whispers broke out among them. You almost couldn’t blame them. Most of the common knights Prava had sent with you hadn’t seen anything resembling battle outside of drunken brawls in the late hours of the night on Kyovashad’s streets; the mere thought of demons was likely shaking them to their core.

You held up your hand and turned to face them.

“Men. You must believe in the Light. We have been blessed by Inarius and the Light to remove scourge from this land. Remember your honor, your faith. We press forward.” You took note of the deep breaths your words inspired, calming and reassuring the young soldiers.

And so you and yours continued on, until one man fell to his knees.

The squad leader next to you turned, marching towards the fallen soldier who was clutching his head in his armored hands. Was he… trembling? Your senses heightened as your heart began pumping into overdrive, sending adrenaline coursing through your body.

The soldier removed his helmet. His eyes were missing the spark you expect to see in a man of faith. It was then that his voice reached your ears, loud enough to hear through your helmet.

“She is here. She is come. She is here. She is come.”

Stabbing your weapon into the ground, you closed the distance between the two of you in three massive steps — not a difficult feat for you. Part of your election as commander was due to your physical stature. You towered nearly a head over most. Your body was covered in muscle, scarred and burned by the fifteen years of combat you had seen.

Those fifteen years hadn’t prepared you for what was about to come. And those soldiers who didn’t have that experience were afraid.

Clutching his face in your hands, you shouted through your helmet at the soldier.

“Who is coming!”

“Our… Mother.”

Any remaining words were drowned in the blood that began pouring from his orifices and he collapsed to the ground.

The third commander reacted quickly. “Formation C, now!”

Training took over as the remaining men formed a defensive circle around you all. Searching the horizon yielded nothing, except — had the sky always been this dark?

And then you remember a flash of red light, and screams. Horrific, piercing screams. And then darkness.

Now, sitting against what seemed to be a stone wall, with your hands chained above your head, you managed to blink open your eyes.

There was nothing holy here.

Viscera was scattered in varying corners of the room, whose only light shined through several iron bars dotting the top of the wall. You spotted another captain, his armor pierced through. He was dead.

Nearly overcome with anger and fear, you managed to still yourself and began to think of escape. Tugging on the restraints proved useless; they were bolted directly into the stone above you and offered no movement. You were flexible enough to get your feet under you, but trying to stand to was futile — your torso protested and you collapsed back to the ground with a scream. You’d been injured sometime between blacking out and being taken to this dungeon. A seven inch gash across your armor exposed your bare chest as fresh blood began to seep from the wound.

That scream caught something’s attention, and a solid iron door across the room swung open. Whatever walked in wasn’t human, and you wracked your brain, poring over the mental notes you’d made over the years of different demons. What was it? Wings, exposed skin, long hair, she was almost…

A succubus. It was a succubus.

Your eyes narrowed and you bared your teeth, ready to defend yourself against her attacks that never came. Instead, she hissed at you and left the room with the door ajar.

The encounter had stirred a body from stillness in another corner. It was one of the soldiers, his eyes bloodshot and heavy. He made eye contact with you, mouthing words you could not hear.

You called out to him. “Speak up, knight!”

He took a deep inhale before trying again, and you barely caught pieces of his speech. “-her … she is — Queen — coming,” he uttered, before his head fell backwards and his chest grew still. You cursed every deity you could think of. Queen? Which Queen? And of what?

Heavier footfalls echoed outside the door as their owner walked down the hallway towards your cell. Footfalls and… the dragging of chains?

Your previous questions were answered as soon as you caught first glimpse of who had entered the room with you. So that’s what he had meant by ‘Queen’.

The Daughter of Hatred, Queen of the Succubi, the ‘Mother’.

Lilith.

The demon stood in the doorframe, her presence commanding every cell in your body to give into fear and anguish. But you were strong. Inarius himself had given you his divine blessing to protect against such incursions into your mind.

She extended her wings, spanning nearly the width of the room, and raised them to block the light coming in from outside. Here in this blackness, the only light came from her multicolored eyes. It was a sinister light, a devious one. Lilith had plans for you.

“I see that our…” She paused, glancing over at the dead soldier, “sole survivor has wakened from his slumber,” she spoke. Her voice was as smooth as the finest spirits you had drank. The words emanated from her, enveloping you in a near-suffocating embrace. You shook your head in protest.

“The Light protects me, demon. You hold no power over me.”

Lilith clicked her tongue and stepped towards you. As she drew closer, you noticed a long, thin tail dragging along the floor behind her. Spikes extended from its tip as it rattled along the stones in her path. She had gotten close enough to nearly stand directly over you.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, little Light. Who is protecting you here now? Certainly not your Inarius. There is no light here,” she said, her lips curled into a sneer. “There is only me.”

Lilith’s tail had moved, poising itself to the side of your face. She brought it down on your cheek in some twisted caress you could only assume brought her delight.

“Don’t worry. I won’t kill you, yet. Answer my questioning, and I might let you live.” She stepped back, and the spikes on her tail dragged down your cheek, cutting it open. Lilith smirked at your pain as she stepped out, leaving you with a new cut and in complete silence.

Your eyes flicked open once more as the door rattled before flying open. Two of Lilith’s succubi were standing at the entrance; one holding a key, and one holding what looked to be a plate?

You almost laughed at the idea. Lilith, the Daughter of Hatred, taking care of a prisoner? You might as well be dead already.

That ‘idea’ was anything but. The two drew near, and the one holding the plate set it aside for the moment, before stepping onto your outstretched legs and holding you still. Her skin was colored like ruby and her green eyes pierced through into your soul. You looked away, gritting your teeth as her clawed feet tightened their grip on your armored joints, causing the metal to groan. The second reached above your head to the chains holding your arms in place, brushing her upper thigh against the throbbing cut Lilith had given you the day before.

Were they trying to taunt you?

The shackles fell loose, and for a brief moment, the one standing on you relaxed. Ignoring the pain in your chest, you swung your arms with wild fury, catching the closest succubus in the navel. She collapsed to the floor heaving as you tried to push the one on your legs to the side to no avail. The surge of energy died as the pain exploded again, and you leaned over to vomit or pass out. You weren’t sure which your body would choose.

You didn’t have to.

The succubus standing on you held her foot high, kicking square into your head as your skull cracked against the stone behind you, and you fell to the floor barely clinging to consciousness. The two succubi whispered amongst each other, and one left. You aren’t sure how much time passed until she returned — you were struggling to stay awake as your chest and head throbbed with pain.

She returned holding a locking belt and roughly ten feet of chain, which was swiftly fitted to your waist and the wall. Better than having your arms bolted to it. Your body won against your mind and you gave into sleep once more.

The second day you awoke to an unknown substance sitting on a small dish in front of you. It didn’t smell bad, and your stomach protested the thought of not eating with a loud grumble. As you ate, you heard that familiar rattling again, and your body began to panic as Lilith opened the door once more. With the daylight streaming through above you, you could make out more of her details clearly.

She was nearly two heads taller than you, and her intricate horns increased that difference even more so. She wasn’t wearing armor, but rather a flowing, deep purple robe which seemed to meld into the skin on her chest. And the eyes — her multicolored eyes which saw through all veils. Your own eyes traveled downwards. She had mostly human-like features, with some notable exception being the length and sharpness of her nails. Her legs seemed to ripple with power as she took step after step towards you.

Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. “I see my daughters have taken appropriate care of you. Good.”

You regarded her with caution, but knowing that you were in no position to attack or provoke, humored her conversation.

“And why me, demon? Why save me?”

“Did my dear mate not tell you of me, when you received his blessing? I can sense it on you. His twisted Light,” she spat. “How like him to hide such secrets.” ‘Mate’? Inarius? She knew of Inarius?

“Yes, I know of Inarius. You Knights Penitent are sharp, yes? You can put the details together,” Lilith continued. Had she heard his thoughts? “We knew each other once, long ago. But that is irrelevant now. You shall tell me the plans of your Cathedral and your Order. Do not lie to me.”

You swallowed at her demands. “And how does the bitch of Hell not know that already?”

Her eyes squinted at the insult and she reared her hand back, before delivering a powerful slap to your face. As you stumbled, she shot out her other arm, gripping your neck in her hand. Her strength was powerful, more than you had expected. Lilith leaned close to you, her lips only an inch from your ear.

She whispered. “Now now, little Light. You don’t get to be feisty yet. Now answer me: why were your knights so far west?” Her hand around your throat tightened, and spots began to form in the corners of your vision.

“We were investigating demonic activity on behalf of the Cathedral,” you sputtered out. “Slain villagers. Missing men. Ritual circles scattered across the wastes. Markings of your kind,” hissing emphasis on the last four words. You felt Lilith’s skin touch yours as she grinned.

“Good boy,” she purred, pressing a kiss to your cheek as she released her grip. “Was that so hard?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and yet it lit every hair on your body on fire.

“Do not touch me, demon!”

“If you cooperate, I won’t have to.” Lilith, you realized, was cunning. Moreso than anyone you had met. “I do hope your face is alright — wouldn’t want the only pretty thing here to be ruined.” She pouted mockingly, raising her hand to the light to inspect it.

This caught you off guard. Speechless for several seconds, you struggled to find any appropriate response to what she had just done, before a brief smile flashed across your face.

“Not the first time I’ve been hit by a woman. Not the hardest, either,” you taunted. Perhaps challenging the most powerful demon in modern times was not a good idea, but if you were going to die anyways, why not have fun with it?

She smiled at your retort, before bringing her tail up to your chin. Your eyes watched the end warily, all too aware of the damage it can inflict. Instead, Lilith turned it onto its flat side, tilting your head to meet her icy gaze.

Whatever semblance of fun you thought you could have disappeared with the next question. “And, my dear, where is Inarius?” As she formed those words, something behind her eyes shifted and her eyebrows narrowed. A visage you had seen often danced across her face: hatred. Fear began to flow in your veins as you came up with an answer.

“We are not privy to that information.” A… partial truth.

Lilith bared her teeth at you as her hatred choked the atmosphere. “I told you no lies,” she hissed. She drew her tail back, only for it to sweep your legs out from under you, sending you crashing to the floor back-first. She stepped on your outreached arms, wrapping her tail around your armored legs, immobilizing you. As much as you struggled you were no match for her strength.

She squatted down to get close to your face once more, practically straddling your chest. Normally, you would have considered this intimate. Unfortunately, this situation was anything but.

“I did answer your question of his location, ‘Mother’,” you replied, injecting as much venom into her title as possible. Lilith smirked and grabbed the sides of your head with her hands, and your eyes darted to the edges of your vision as you tried to understand what was about to happen.

The Daughter of Hatred moved her mouth to yours, drowning out your sound of protest with a deep kiss. Your emotions swirled; on one hand, the desires and feelings you felt as a baser human beat against their cage, repressed by the years of training in the Order. On the other hand, the antithesis to all your beliefs and existence was currently trying to force her way into your mouth.

That concern grew smaller and smaller as Lilith held you still, almost savoring the forbidden, as her tongue mingled with yours and your mind went blank and time stood still. Your pulse quickened and your body grew hot as the reality of what was happening set in. Tugging your head back, you spit onto the floor, praying to the Light that whatever saliva of hers had entered your mouth was there no longer.

You panted, catching your breath. “Do you treat all of your prisoners like that?”

She stood, no longer crouching above your chest, stepping off your hands and unbinding your feet.

“Only the ones that amuse me,” she said. “We are done for today. Unless, of course, you feel comfortable answering more… questions.” She raised her hand, holding a small orb of blood in stasis above her palm, before clenching her fist together. You gasped in pain as the wound on your chest reopened and Lilith’s temptations swirled in your head.

Give in to me. It will all be over. Return to your origins. Reveal the truth. Set yourself free.

She let out a chuckle. “Unfortunate that your body betrayed your beliefs, isn’t it? Such is man. Simple creatures. But don’t worry, little Light. Mother is here to save you all.”

The last of your controlled conscious slipped away as Lilith slipped into your mind. She wielded your thoughts and actions with finesse. You had let her get close enough to ingest her saliva. You never had the possibility of being a match against Lilith. It was over before it even began. Before you woke up in this forsaken cell. You were playing right into her hands the entire time.

And you wanted to.

Lilith’s smirk turned into a grin as the last pieces of you lost their battle to her willpower. You, a knight who once stood proud before Inarius the Father, had been reduced to no more than a plaything for the Daughter of Hatred. And it was good.

She stepped towards you, inches away from touching your chest. She raised a hand, laying it on the cusp of your armor, before wrenching it off of you piece by piece. Your chest was bared to the world, angry and inflamed as the flesh tried its best to heal.

“You should keep still while your body repairs itself. Don’t want to get hurt, do you?” she said. As she spoke, Lilith was winding the slack in the chain between yourself and the wall into her hands, trapping you between the stone and her overpowering form. Was it a trap, or a luxury? Your mind hadn’t yet decided.

With imperceptible quickness, Lilith tugged the chain from its socket in the wall, swinging her arm above your head and impaling it into the stone above. Her lips curled in a smile as she took your hands in front of you, wrapping your wrists together with the remaining chain.

She leaned in close to your ear. “Now be quiet, dear. I like to work in silence.” You nodded in acceptance (or was it willingness?) as she dropped her mouth to your collar, sinking her canines into your weak and bruised flesh. You moaned quietly in pain, and her eyes flitted to your face as she pressed a finger to your lips.

“Hush.”

Lilith recreated the bite on the other side of your body, stepping back to admire her handiwork. She stood before you, your blood smeared across her lips, and you felt desire to submit. Your only purpose was to serve Mother, was it not? You were willing to give her the power over you she needed.

Some voice in the back of your mind screamed and raged against the very idea, and you stifled it. Lilith had noticed and pressed you between her and the wall, your arms high above your head. Her body was warmer than it looked, you realized, as the tapering slit of her dress pressed her bare skin against your chest.

Her tail had snuck its way into your lower armor, and coiled around your upper leg with pressure. “This last one will hurt,” she said, licking your blood from her lips. There was a mischievous gleam in her eyes, but you didn’t see it.

Lilith traced her fingers along the surface of your chest, skirting down to your stomach and back again. Her nails danced upon your skin as she locked eyes with you, before stabbing under your sternum and into your chest. The only noise you can make is a whimper as the pain radiates across your body, threatening to bring you to your knees.

She grabbed the back of your neck, cradling you against her as your body begins to shut down. “Give in, little Light. You’re so, so close.” Her scent whirls around your head and you nearly experience a twisted euphoria. A mix of sweat, perfume, hatred, and death. Sickeningly sweet.

You can only manage a whisper. “…Yes, Mother.”

“Good.”

You feel her finger hook onto something and tug. As she pulled it out, the room became illuminated with the dim yellow glow of an Angel’s wing fragment. Her eyes narrowed as she squeezed, screaming with her last might of strength, before the fragment shattered.

Whatever voice was in the back of your head was gone, scattered across the bloodied floor beneath you both.

Lilith let out a subtle sigh before she began to work her magicks. You briefly remember learning of her powers in the Order. But she was helping you, wasn’t she? Showing you the path to salvation. Yes, that must be it.

The last thing you remember of that day is catching her gaze as she licked her canines, tasting the essence of your life, and giving you a cruel smile.

Day three. Or was it four? You had lost track of time. But time didn’t matter now. She did.

She. The Queen of the Succubi was standing before you, her wings folded in tight to her back.

“Good morning, little Light,” she cooed. “I have something to show you today.”

For the first time in a long while, you felt… normal. No weight in your chest. There was no feeling of being forced into something. You felt free. Standing to your feet, you lightly rattle the chains around your wrist, smirking at Lilith.

“What about these?”

She grunted and your arms came free from the wall. Your eyes didn’t see it the first time, but as you brought your hands back down towards your body, her tail skittered across the stones back towards her. Your eyes widened ever so slightly in fear. Had she always been that fast?

“You need not be afraid. Come along, now.”

For the first time in several days, you stood up to your full stature, spreading out your chest and legs. Even still, Lilith towered over you, dominating your vision.

“Where are we going, Lilith?” You asked.

“The Gardens,” she paused. “Do you remember yesterday, my knight dearest?”

You nod in affirmation. Lilith sneers.

“Good.”

The rest of your walk is done in silence. You arrive to a massive pair of wooden doors, and Lilith flicks her hand lightly, swinging them open. She knelt down to your height, placing her hands on your shoulder, and you felt her horns press into your head.

“Grown just for you.”

Lilith’s manipulations and destruction of your mind unraveled as you processed the scene before you. All of your men, every single one, sat dead in the field before you. Some were missing limbs, while others hung gruesomely from massive stakes rammed through their bodies. At first, you feel nothing. The anger, the hatred, boiled up from the pits of your stomach, exploding out of you into a scream so fierce that even the Daughter of Hatred stepped back in surprise.

Your rage rapidly gained direction as you spun to face the demon once more. “What have you done,” you mutter through clenched teeth.

“What I needed to!” She hissed back.

You felt her tail hit you before you saw it move. The force of the impact knocked you down spinning, and you lay on your stomach trying to process what had happened. Lilith took no pause moving to your incapacitated body, placing a single leg atop your back, extending her claws into the skin around your spine.

You cry out in pain as tears begin to form in your eyes and pour down your face. She took note of your pain, wrapping her tail around your torso and lifting you off the ground as your head lolled forward.

“You had done so well, little Light,” she said as she lifted a hand to your face, wiping the tears from your skin.

“My name is not ‘little Light’, it’s—“

Her hand dropped from your cheek to your lips, pinching them shut as you writhed against her. She lets your mouth free when you slowly return to silence.

“I will ask you again, knight,” venom dripping from her voice. “I can sense if you lie. Where is the Angel Inarius?”

You swallowed hard, blinking the wetness from your eyes as you and Lilith stared into each other’s eyes.

“We were blessed in the eastern peaks, but that was months ago. I swear on my life.”

“Then I will hold you to that,” she growled, dropping your weakened body to the floor. Your legs crumpled as they hit the stone and you tattered on the edge of consciousness. There was a low snap, and two succubi appeared from the doorway to the ‘Gardens’, holding a small chalice. Lilith spoke to them in what you can only imagine was demonic, and your strength failed you once more, leaving you unconscious on the stones beneath her.

She waved her hand towards the two succubi, before extending her wings to their fullest, and took flight with her army to the east. She had an angel to hunt.

You awoke, head and back pounding with pain. There was a dull taste in your mouth, one of iron and sweetness. You’re in restraints once again, this time exposed to the world: your arms and legs are chained diagonal from each other, forming an X. Your armor has been removed and taken, and you’re covered in only simple linens.

The chains holding your limbs are so tight you can only afford mere inches of movement as you tug on your bindings, trying hopelessly to twist yourself free from your prison.

Lilith’s demons open the door to your cell — it’s the same two you punched days ago. You growled, spitting onto the stone in front of you, challenging them to live up to their Mother’s punishments.

This time, they did not bring food. This time they brought whips.

You chuckled, gritting your teeth for the coming torture. It hadn’t been your first time being whipped; no, the Order made sure of that. Their “training”, they claimed, would pay off one day. And here you were, Lilith’s toy. The irony of the situation nearly made you burst out with laughter.

The first whip strike was light, almost playful. You gave a wicked grin to your tormentors. “Try your hardest, hellspawn.”

They snarled back, unleashing a flurry of strikes that scathed your flesh through the shirt. The protection, or lack thereof, of your linens rapidly deteriorated as hit after hit cut through the fabric and into your skin.

The two were smart. They took breaks, paused between whippings, exchanged tips on their weapons. All to break you. Sometimes they would give you water — just enough to keep you awake for the next round of attacks.

Your body screamed under the pain of hundreds of cuts. It had been hours since they had started. Blood had pooled on the ground beneath your feet, crusted and drying. Some were shallow and stung; others reached deep, gouging open your skin. Your voice had given out long ago. You protested the torture, of course, but no longer could you voice the screams of pain.

You closed your eyes as they continued again. Your body had mostly grown numb to their whipping; likely from the amount of blood you had lost. You wanted help. You wanted it to stop. So you asked, begging, in your mind, for the torture to be over.

You hadn’t expected an answer.

The Daughter of Hatred entered, her eyes trained not on you, but on her daughters. Their attitude changed immediately, quickly morphing from pleasure at your pain into fear of upsetting their Queen. No words were exchanged, but the two succubi immediately left the room, exiting behind Lilith whose glare at them sent shivers down your spine.

They’d left their whips behind.

In your current position, you were lifted off the floor enough to be eye to eye with Lilith. At this level you could see her face clearly in the light. She was slightly smiling; not the loving, concerned smile of a Mother. Her smile concealed angered amusement. You were completely, utterly helpless before her, at her beck and call.

Lilith sighed, glancing down at the dried blood beneath your feet. “Always so eager to please their Queen, they are,” she said. She nearly looked… disappointed?

Raising her hand, the redness scattered across the stones slowly reconciled itself into a bubbling liquid, hovering in the air between the two of you. You raised your eyes in confusion, and then surprise, as she pushed the orb of blood into your chest. Its contents were absorbed through you, invigorating your body as the blood you had shed entered you once again.

“The succubi have never been skilled at torture,” she continued, running her hand along the length of one of the whips. Lilith hadn’t come to save you. She’d come to do the job herself. She stepped closer, with only a foot of distance separating you two. In the light, you could clearly tell that she had been fighting. Her wings were covered in dust and gunpowder, and blood spattered the bottom of her dress.

“I take it you didn’t find Inarius.”

Lilith held up her hands, inspecting her nails for any imperfections. She ignored, you noticed, the blood caked on her palms. “No.”

Her gaze settled back onto you as she unfurled the whip in her hands. Fuck.

Her first swing lacerated your chest, cutting down from your shoulder to your sternum. The second echoed the first, this time on the other side of your body. And so she continued — like an artist painting on her canvas, Lilith carved her hatred and fury into your body as symbols and icons. First on your chest, and then she moved onto your arms and face. Once she was satisfied with her work there, her strikes aimed for your thighs, your muscles jumping every time the whip sliced through your flesh.

You never bled. She was keeping your body from doing that, her twisted magic ensuring that you were awake for all of the pain to come.

Her onslaught eventually slowed, the time between each lash of the whip increasing until she dropped it from her hands. You look up in a haze, your eyes barely able to focus as every square inch of your body is on fire, eyes searching for anything to focus on. They land on Lilith’s.

Her eyes, normally sharp and blue and grey, were blurred by both your tears and hers.

“You do not deserve this, little Light,” she says quietly, gazing at your red and raw body hung broken before her. Her shoulders lowered as the tension and sadness evaporated from her body.

Lilith’s voice swirled, containing an amalgamation of despair and anger. “Did you know that I had a son once? Not your mankind,” she continued with a sigh, “but a real son. My son. Rathma.”

“And your Father, Rathma’s father, killed him where he stood. All in the name of returning to Heaven.” A single tear fell down the her face. In this moment, Lilith was not the Daughter of Hatred, but a mother broken who lost her child.

Her visage hardened back into its cold and unforgiving self, but there were cracks now. Chinks in her armor, weakened by the death of her son. She stretched out her hand towards you, and a surge of warmth filled your body as cut after cut slowly seal themselves closed.

You look up from yourself in disbelief to find that Lilith’s face is directly in front of yours. You flick over her features: the weariness in her eyes, the edges of her jaw, and the red of her lips. This time, you do not struggle as she kisses you. This time, you are willing to afford her the twisted, grieving comfort she desires.

The restraints on your legs fall to the ground, leaving you dangling by your arms. Lilith pulls away from you, her tail wrapping around your chest as she undoes the remaining clasps on your wrists.

As she sets you down on the ground, your brows furrow in confusion.

She grasped your head in her hands as you looked up to maintain eye contact with her. There was no malice here, only gentleness.

“I want this war to end. I want to free humanity from its chains. No longer will you all be pawns in the Eternal Conflict,” she replied. “Follow.”

This time you followed, not in acceptance, but curiosity. You trailed Lilith into another stone room, this one larger and more elaborate than your cell. There were small glass windows dotting the walls, and several wooden chairs and tables were scattered across the room. She stopped, raising her hand and twirling in a small circle.

The air in front of you cracked and hummed as the energies of Hell surged out from the rift that she had opened in space. A small portal whirled in front of you as Lilith turned around.

“This will return you to Kyovashad.” She paused, smirking, raising both hands to your face. She took the sharper edges of her nails, slowly cutting from the tops of your eyebrows and down to your cheeks, barely missing your eyes.

“That is for my own amusement. And this,” she continued, dropping her palm to your navel, “is for you.”

Lilith’s skin glowed hot against yours as you grunted in pain. Her hand pulled away, leaving a small sigil stamped into your skin. “You’ve piqued my interest, knight. Not many of my… captives have been as amusing as you,” she says.

You can only stammer out a single question.

“Why?”

The Daughter of Hatred gives you a low bow, her wings extended. “I was curious to see what would happen. Now go, little Light.”

With that, you stumble backwards into the portal, facing your captor the whole time.

And so you returned to as normal a life as you could, your body bearing the sins and beatings of your imprisonment. You told Mother Prava what you had learned, but pieces of you were in doubt of the Cathedral and the Order. Had Lilith been right? Had Inarius’ lust for victory been fueled solely by selfishness and vengeance? Had you suffered and your brothers died just to become stepping stones for some higher power?

Your doubts took root silently, at first, before their growths began to blossom in your head. Over the next several months, Inarius’ conquests grew more and more daring. Each mission came back with fewer and fewer men as your numbers dwindled faster than knights could be trained. Soon, those remaining were Inarius’ most loyal. Or perhaps, his most fanatical?

Winter came, bringing its sharp winds blasting across Kyovashad and the surrounding area.

And then He made his announcement. The Order would be marching on Hell, to conquer its fiery threats once and for all. To slay Lilith and put an end to the madness. The night before that final march, you didn’t sleep. Your mind was swirling with conflict. Perhaps she had been right. Inarius never deigned to ask about your capture; he’d never listened to your concerns about his mission plans. He had forged ahead, disregarding anything Man had told him.

He was an Angel, after all. How could he be in the wrong?

But hadn’t he always been wrong? Falsely leading so many men to their deaths under the guise of permanent remembrance and salvation, only for them to be torn limb from limb while their great leader pursued his true goals? This war would not end under Inarius.

Your stomach burned hot and you winced as the sigil Lilith had placed months ago glowed faintly. You could almost feel it all again: the beatings, the cuts, the… kisses. And so you stand, walking outside your barracks, and stumble blindly into the cold until your feet can pull you no further.

If you go just a little further, you could reach her.

You press both hands to the mark, and that warmth surges once more as the surrounding air cracks and hums with her energy, forming a portal that sends you hurtling through inky blackness.

You land roughly on your knees, the skin bruising as your body comes to a halt on the stone floor beneath you. The air is hot and dry, and a warm glow is emanating from outside of the expansive room you appeared in. As your eyes drift around, you find her. Her.

Your Holy Mother, Creator of Sanctuary, sat, legs crossed on her throne at the end of the room.

You stood slowly, walking towards Lilith. Step after step, second after second, until you were close enough to make out the grooves on her horns.

“And so the little Light returned to the darkness to illuminate it once more,” she teased, giving you a devilish smile before she turned serious. Lilith lifts herself to her full height and walks slowly towards you. “What brings you back to me, knight?”

You’re silent for several seconds, trying to come up with an appropriate response to that question you knew she would ask.

“After your… internment,” you growl, “of me, I expected to return to as much normalcy as I could. But I was scorned. Shamed and discarded by our Father. Watching him lead my brethren into pointless death was too much for me.”

Lilith arches her brow, circling you as she inspects your body. You continue on, watching her smile grow as she sees the scars left upon you by her and her spawn.

“Your goal is true, Lilith, but the lengths that you go to in order to achieve them is too far for one to respect. But if your dream will finally free these men, not knights, men, from this perpetual slavery and demise, then I shall support it.”

She leans in close to your ear, one hand snaking its way from your shoulder and down your chest. “You didn’t answer my question, little Light. What brings you here?”

You grab Lilith’s wrist, wrenching it off of you and tugging her down to your level.

“He’s coming. He knows.”

A blink of emotion flashes across her face — disgust, hatred, concern — before being replaced with a snarl. Moving her hand to your chin, she tilts your head upwards to watch her as she stands to her full height, extending her wings and unleashing a buffet of wind around the two of you.

Her thumb drags lazily across your cheekbone. “And what will you do, knight?”

You grit your teeth. There’s no other way. You can’t go back to the angels now, only the devils. There is no god that you can pick and pray to any longer.

“Submit.”

The Daughter of Hatred almost seemed excited.

“And finally, the children begin to understand. Let’s do this properly this time. Do not resist, little Light. Soon you will be free.”

Lilith draws a nail along her palm, slicing it open, letting the blood pour out of her wound. “Drink,” she commands.

Her blood drips into your mouth from her open palm. It is bittersweet, thick and metallic. Like old wine that had been sitting out for too long. Yet you obey, drinking, swallowing, until she pulls her hand away.

“My turn.”

Lilith wraps the two of you in her wings, putting you in her own little bubble, bringing you close to her. She leans down towards your collar, where she first bit you months prior. She smirks as she closes the gap between her mouth and your skin.

“I’ll be gentle,” she purrs.

The Queen of the Succubi breaks your skin with her teeth, pulling her tail up to your face in a twisted caress. You feel a weak suction as she drinks from you. Converting you into what you always should have been. There is no pain. Only bliss.

She removes her teeth from your flesh and holds the back of your head in her hands. Lilith pulls your forehead to her lips, and then your nose, and then your mouth, staining each with your redness. Her wings pull you in even tighter, pressing you into her as she holds you in her loving embrace. And you submit.

Lilith’s kiss is returned by one of your own as you push each other back and forth, tongues meeting and hands exploring. Her nails scrape down along your back as your fingers dance across her dress. Your hesitancies fade away as she grabs your head tight, almost pressing you into her so that you can be consumed, devoured by her, and become a part of her as much as she becomes a part of you.

She pulls away, curling her wings back in as you stare into her very being. Of course Lilith had been right — the Creator of Sanctuary would know what is best for her children. You laughed at the irony of it all: the belief in the Order, in Inarius; in man believing that they can break the cycle through their own powers, and always spiraling back into conflict; and in the realization that you were finally and truly free.

Lilith reaches her hand out into the space between the two of you and twists, squeezing her fist in the air. Your body feels light as you drop to your knees before your Mother. She bends down to sit behind you, pulling you into her chest as your strength wanes. It is almost serene, you think, as your mind is fogged by her scent wrapping around your body.

She speaks into your ear. “You did so well, little Light. But now you shall serve the darkness.”

Your pulse races as Lilith’s blood and saliva begin to course through your body, breaching every defense you held against Hell’s sick allure. Your body twitches as it fights to its very last protective breath, until it finally comes to peace with Lilith.

She releases you as you both rise from the stone floor, newfound strength in your limbs. The Daughter of Hatred speaks to you in a language you haven’t recognized, yet one you perfectly understood. So you respond in kind.

And she smiles.

“Come then, dearest Penumbra. We have an angel to kill.”

end

[bluefox-13]

BONUS:

I am OBSESSED with Mon Mothma's outfits in Andor 🔥💯

[bluefox-13]

Sweet Thing — Alcina Dimitrescu x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Praise, biting, marking, spit kink, drink play (red wine), thigh riding, blood kink, etc…

Word Count: 6.2k

© Do not copy, repost, or modify any of my works.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were too focused on finishing the final touches of your dessert to notice the tall raven-haired woman glancing at you from across the room as you held your breath to ensure the icing along your cake was precise. Your bottom lip was tucked between your teeth as you examined your hard work with the intricate lines that formed the most beautiful pattern atop the cake.

It was one of the other maids birthday's and you took it upon yourself to help her celebrate as you and your fellow workers were the closest to the young maid as she had no family left. When you thought of the idea to make something special for her, you were surprised to hear from Alcina that she was allowing you to do such a task in her castle, as it was your place to care for her, and not anybody else, but the tall woman had her eye on you as you were the newest hire in the castle.

Although you had only been there for nearly a month, she noticed the way you were quick and efficient at your job. Rooms got cleaned without a speck of dust in sight, and she took note of the way your gentle hands moved her expensive decorations around, only to put them back in their exact position after they were thoroughly cleaned. You were never one to pry into Alcina's business unlike the other maids when one would suddenly go missing or there was a new bloody mess to clean after Alcina's daughters were done snacking. You kept to yourself, and that was something that intrigued her.

You knew of the Dimitrescu family's inhuman abilities but didn't dare ask questions out of respect, and with that, Alcina never laid a finger on you. . . That was, until a large pale hand found its way to your shoulder just as you had finished your task.

"Is it finally finished?" Alcina's sultry voice rang in your ears as she blew smoke past her lips from her lit cigarette that sat delicately in its elegant holder between her fingers.

"I think so—" You eyed the finished product, refusing to bring your eyes to the woman towering behind you as she slipped one of her black gloves off.

"Then I think it's time we taste it." Without hesitation, Alcina leans forward, her clothed breasts just barely touching the top of your head as she dips a slender finger into the frosting covering the cake, making you stand completely still in shock at both of her actions.

As Alcina brought her icing covered finger to her face, your head tilted up and eyes lingered on the way her darkened red lips wrapped around her pale finger before swallowing and contemplating for a moment.

"It's lacking a bit of. . . sweetness." She admitted with a frown.

"Oh– perhaps you need to wash it down with some wine! I've heard the other maid's talk about the wine cellar, I could go fetch–"

"No!" Alcina immediately cut you off, catching herself by surprise with her quick response.. "I mean. . ." She quickly looked around before catching sight of an unopened bottle of red wine to her left and picking it up to show you. "This will do just fine. Be a dear and grab two glasses for me." She pointed towards the glass cabinet that contained her favorite wine glasses, hoping to distract you from her fast response as she herself just realized why she was quick to begin with. You mentioned the wine cellar. There were things that happened down there that she didn't want your innocent eyes to see. There was a reason why the Dimitescu family was always in need of a new maid, but for some reason, the second you walked through her grand doors, there was something that stopped her from wanting to harm you, and it was at this moment that she realized she had a special liking to you, and she couldn't control her wandering thoughts any longer.

"Two glasses?" You eyed her curiously.

"For the two of us, of course. I thought you could use a break, unless you'd rather go back to cleaning–"

"Two glasses coming up!"

Alcina held back a smirk as she took a step back, allowing space for you to move freely around her and nab two glasses from the wooden cupboard.

"Where would you like me to serve you, Lady Alcina?"

"What have I said about the formalities, darling?" She tilted her head slightly.

"To call you by your given name. My apologies, Alcina." You bowed your head in respect.

"You're too sweet for your own good. . ." Her gaze immediately softened as she tilted your head back up with the point of her finger under your chin. "That's why you're my favorite." She smiled for the first time at you, and you felt your cheeks heat up at her words. "Now come, it's been a long day and I can't stand another moment in these infuriating heels." Alcina dropped her finger from your chin and clutched onto the wine bottle as she aimed for the door. Due to her height, Alcina had to bend forward to step under the doorframe, completely filling your view with the curvature of her lower body as her rear end was at eye level as she bent her way into the next room with you just behind her, a slight blush creeping onto your face when you noticed your lingering gaze on the woman's body and had to force your eyes away.

"Where are we going?" You question, when you two walk past the parlor where she normally drinks her beloved wine.

"To my chambers. I have a proposition for you."

"Why not ask me here?"

"It's more of a. . . private matter."

"Right. . ." You nodded your head in response as if she could see you with her back turned as the two of you made your way up the grand staircase and down the dimly lit hallway leading to her bedroom. She entered the same way she had to leave the kitchen, with the slight bend of her body, clouding your view once more with her backside.

Your eyes immediately scanned the elegant room surrounding you, as it had been your first time ever allowed into Alcina's private quarters. Her furniture was larger than a regular humans, to be more accommodating of her larger physique. She sat at her vanity with a small huff as she freed her feet from her black stilettos, tossing them to the ground as you just stood quietly at the entrance, fixated on the way her fingers were gentle with every move she made. Even as she was sitting down, her posture remained perfect.

"You can come in. Close the door behind you and pour us some wine." She chuckled when she caught sight of your nervous stance.

"Okay. . ." You immediately came to her side after closing the door behind you and setting the two glasses on her vanity before popping open the wine bottle and gently pouring the dark liquid into each glass, careful not to make a mess with the way your hands were slightly shaking.

"Thank you, dear." Alcina swirled her wine before taking a large sip, quietly humming at the plethora of flavors reaching her taste buds.

With hesitation, you picked up your own glass, and did just as she did, swirling the beverage around before taking a small sip. You hummed to yourself once you got a taste of the wine, as you immediately took a liking to it.

"Good, isn't it?" Alcina asked, before tossing her gloves on her vanity, followed by her large black hat that always shaded her face, freeing her pin tight curls.

"Very." Your eyes were trained on her as she looked at herself in the mirror, taking the pins out of her raven colored hair, and running her slender fingers through her curls.

"Good. I knew you would like it. After all, I do make the wine myself." She states matter of factly as her golden eyes meet yours through the reflection.

"You're very good at it."

"That's very kind of you, thank you." She smiled softly, and you gave her one in return. "Will you be a dear and unbutton my dress for me?" She asks politely.

"Oh- of course." You set your glass down next to hers before standing behind her, bringing your shaky hands to the back of her white dress and carefully unbuttoning the fabric little by little, slowly revealing her pale back until each button was undone. "There you go."

Alcina took another sip from her glass before she stood up, towering over you. "Would you like to hear my proposition?" She asked calmly, slowly sliding her arm out of her sleeve.

"Yes. . ." You eyed her curiously, slightly knitting your eyebrows, and forcing yourself to not tear your gaze from her glowing eyes. "You said it was a private matter?"

"I did, yes." She slid her other sleeve off, and slowly dropped her lush white dress down past her curves, revealing her slightly see-through black laced lingerie set that barely covered her luscious curves.

Your heart immediately started beating faster, and Alcina immediately caught on as you cleared your throat and tore your eyes away from her, instead taking another sip of your wine to cover the rising heat in your cheeks.

"If I'm being completely honest, you're one of the best maids I've ever hired. And I know you've only been here a month but I've noticed how hard you work. It's quite impressive." Alicia admitted as she bent to take another swig of her wine, thinking about her next words carefully.

"Thank you—"

Alcina lifted a finger to your lips, silencing you, before sliding that same finger down to your chest, walking you slowly backwards towards her bed. "And so I had this thought, that since you do so much around here, perhaps I could do a little something for you in return."

The back of your knees bump into her bed frame, sticking you in between both the bed and Alcina.

"Is that okay, doll?"

You nod your head, throat going dry at her sudden closeness.

"Use your words."

"Yes— do what you want. Please." You instantly caved, words coming out as more of a beg than you had originally planned, but with a bit of liquid courage, and a half naked Alcina towering over you was all it took for you to completely give into her control without a second thought.

"Good girl." Alcina smirked, and revealed her long and sharp claws in nearly an instant, making you freeze in place with wide eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to tear this little dress off your body, is that alright?"

"Yes. . ." You were soft spoken and didn't dare move as she gently used her claws to rip your dress open from the front, it fell straight to the floor in the blink of an eye, leaving you shocked that she left you completely unscathed.

"I've been very curious what you've been hiding under that little maid outfit of yours, and I will say that I am pleased with what I see." Alcina admits, yellow eyes scanning your body from head to toe, as the only garments covering your body were your bra and panties. She returned her nails back to their normal red polished fingers and used a gentle hand to push you down at the edge of the bed. An idea ran through her mind as you sat below her, Alcina turning around without saying a word to grab the now half empty wine bottle from her vanity. As her body faced away from you, your eyes couldn't help but land upon her rounded ass and admire her luscious curves as her thong sculpted her ass perfectly, and not noticing how long you were staring until she spoke out.

"You know how I knew you were different from the others?" She questioned, bringing your focus back up to her face. "You look at me with those bright beautiful eyes with pure admiration. Whether it was close or from afar, I could tell you weren't gazing out of disgust or hatred. It was different. . ." She smiled faintly at the thought as she made her way back to standing in front of you. "It was the kind of look you gave me just now. Like I wasn't just some kind of tall hideous monster."

"I mean, look at you. You're not hideous, nor are you a monster. You're beautiful, Alcina. Truly. How could I not look at you with anything other than 'perfect' on my mind?"

Her gaze fixated on you, only sensing the truth in your words, and you swore you saw her cheeks turn just the slightest shade darker than her usual bright porcelain skin.

"And this, my dear, is why you deserve a special treat." She tucks loose hair behind your ear.

"Which is?" You slightly raise a brow out of curiosity.

"Why me of course." She grazed a slender finger along your jawline. "That is, if you'll have me. I won't force you into anything you're not comfortable with." Her face softened, full of sincerity, almost begging you to agree. "Let me show you how grateful I am."

You looked up at her through your long lashes, taking a moment to think about what she was offering, and what you were about to agree to. You knew she meant every word she said. She had respected you from the start, and it was a surprise to both of you that you each had an eye out for each other, and unspoken feelings were mutual.

"Show me then." Her eyes lit up at your words, and Alcina wasted no time in gently pushing you all the way back against the plush mattress, your body falling softly onto the sheets, and holding yourself up by your elbows.

Alcina carefully crawled her way above you, straddling your hips with her meaty thighs, and ensuring she didn't add her full weight to the pressure against your hips, as she didn't want to squish your small human body.

"What do you say we finish this bottle up, hmm?" Alcina flashed the bottle in front of you, and you nodded your head in return. A smirk toyed at her lips just before she took a swig at her new thoughts. When you thought she was going to bring the bottle to your own mouth, she brought it back to her signature red lips, but this time you notice she didn't swallow, but instead set the bottle down on the floor, bringing her attention back to you.

You licked your bottom lip slowly as Alcina placed both hands on your cheeks, and leaned down, hovering her face just inches from yours, causing your back to arch as you attempted to reach up to kiss her lips. Alcina pulled away ever so slightly with an arched brow, wanting words of affirmation before she continued.

"Please. . ." You instantly begged her through your parted lips.

She slightly chuckled before pulling your face completely to her own. Her large hands gently squished your cheeks, causing your mouth to open, your tongue sliding out past your bottom lip just as Alcina spit her wine carefully into your mouth which you took without hesitation. She gave you a moment to swallow before smashing her lips against yours, both of you humming at the new contact.

Her tongue swiped against your bottom lip, asking for more access, and in return your lips spread. She immediately dove right in, her large tongue dominating yours. You completely fall back against the sheets, Alcina keeping her body pressed against yours as her hands roamed your body.

You snuck a hand down to her large breasts, grazing your thumb against her hardened nipple, eliciting another hum from the woman.

Alcina was the first to pull away for air, only to bring her lips to smother your jawline with wet kisses, using a light hand under your chin to tilt your head, giving the woman access to your open neck. She immediately attaches herself to you, sucking and kissing along your neck, holding back the urge to sink her teeth into you once she reaches your pulse point.

"Mmm, you smell divine." She admitted between kisses, slowly working her way down your skin, and leaving soon to be marks along your flesh.

"Thank—" Your words got cut off with a gasp when Alcina nibbled your collarbone before soothing it with her wet tongue.

When she reached your chest, Alcina lifted her head with a slight lick of her lips, bringing her golden eyes to yours.

"I see we still have more fabric to get rid of. May I?" She asks politely, pointing to your bra.

"Yes." You were quick to give her permission, which she took with a small smile, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra before sliding the thin fabric off of you, and throwing it to the side.

Her eyes landed upon your bare breasts almost instantaneously, gazing at their fullness with hunger in her eyes, watching as your chest rose and fell with your quickened anticipated breaths, loving the way you slightly squirmed under her gaze.

"My, my, even better than I imagined, little one. . ." She placed a gentle hand on your chest, cupping her breast softly, and grazing her thumb over your nipple, repeating the same action you did to her before.

She raised a small brow when you sucked in a breath, taking her sweet time in lowering her face towards your chest. Your back impulsively arched, pushing your breasts quicker towards her face, eliciting a deep chuckle from the woman.

"So impatient. . ." She looked up at you through her mascara filled lashes just as she flattened her tongue over your hardened nipple before attaching her lips to your breast. Alcina was gentle with her mouth movements, not wanting to graze her teeth against your sensitive skin, or accidentally harm you in any way.

A hand slid through her soft black curls, just barely keeping her head in place as her mouth worked wonders along your bud before kissing across your chest to pay attention to your other breast.

She slid a hand up to cup your other breast, fingers toying with your nipple and giving it a slight pinch, earning a small whimper to escape past your lips.

She then leaves wet kisses down your sternum, golden eyes watching every little movement of yours, whether it was your quick breathing or the slight arching of your back when she kissed a spot that felt ticklish.

As she kissed lower and lower, her kisses became faster and more needy as she went past your navel. Alcina, while lowering herself down, had her back arched, pushing her rounded ass in the air.

That view.

It was the kind of view that would be etched into your brain and never be forgotten.

She truly had the most beautiful curves you had ever seen.

Her teeth grabbed the thin lace, slowly sliding your panties down your legs, leaving you completely bare in front of her. Alcina's lustful gaze never leaves your lower half as she tosses your panties behind her. Her slender fingers glide past your glistening entrance, spreading your wetness around before bringing those same fingers to her mouth, and sliding them past her lips.

"Mmm. . ." Alcina uses her tongue to lick her fingers clean of your juices. "You have the sweetest little pussy." She hummed, leaning her face towards your wet center and licking a strip up your folds with her flattened tongue. Her hands held your hips down, not wanting you to move from her touch.

Alcina had never truly enjoyed herself as much as she was in the moment with you. She never thought she would've taken a liking to anyone, let alone one of her maids.

A quiet moan escaped past your lips when she flicked her tongue against your sensitive clit. Her fingers kneaded at your hips as she used her full mouth to pleasure you. Chills ran down your spine when she sucked your sensitive bud. She thought to herself how she couldn't possibly get enough of you and your taste along her tongue.

Alcina slid a hand between your thighs, slowly inserting a finger into your cunt. Her pace started off gentle and slow, before slowly increasing her pace little by little. Her pace matched the suction along your clit, and your moans couldn't help but grow louder.

"Be as loud as you wish, dear. I love hearing those pretty little moans."

Your hips begged to buck, wanting to push yourself impossibly closer towards her, but her strong hand kept you pinned down against the mattress.

"M-more, please. . ." You begged, gazing down at the woman between your legs.

Alcina slid a second finger past your entrance, eliciting a small whimper from you at the fullness of her fingers against your walls.

"You're so tight— just relax for me, Angel."

Your eyebrows knitted as you adjusted to her curled fingers, mouth agape as Alcina was giving you all of her attention. With every movement, your sweet spot got pleasured by her slender fingers, expertly curved just for you.

You did your best not to pull on her tight curls when your eyes rolled to the back of your head as her pace quickened.

"Yess, just like that—" You whined, head lulled back against the soft mattress.

Alcina felt your legs quiver around her, as you felt yourself quickly reaching your climax.

"You're close, aren't you?"

"Mhm. . ." You softly moaned out, hands clutching onto the comforter beneath you.

"Cum for me."

Your breath hitches in your throat, legs threatening to close around Alcina as not a moment later, you find yourself reaching your sweet release, coating her fingers with your juices.

"That's my good girl." Alcina cooed, keeping her relenting pace, wanting to see if she can get another one out of you.

Eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as Alcina never faltered, her slender fingers putting in their work and stretching your walls.

As she went to adjust her positioning, her round ass jiggled ever so slightly, the sight immediately being etched into your brain. It made you wonder how one could be built so perfectly, and it made your cheeks red when Alcina's gaze fell onto you, catching sight of you checking out her ass.

Her small chuckle sent vibrations through your core, your breathing picking up as you felt yourself getting close once more.

You tried, but failed to hide a whimper as Alcina quickly switched her fingers out with her tongue, wanting to get an extra taste of you as you came for a second time. Your orgasm hit you harder than before, toes roughly curling as she used her tongue to lap up your mess. She hummed when your climax reached her tongue, savoring every little taste she could get of you.

Her movements slowed as you came down from your high, gently licking a strip up your folds to taste you one last time before sitting herself up, allowing you both to catch your breath.

You watched as Alcina sat on her knees, fingers gliding past her lips to suck off the cum from her now messy fingers, yellow eyes closing for just a moment as she licked them completely clean.

Your eyes fell upon her large breasts as she leaned herself forward to hover above you, hands relaxing on either side of your head.

"You're just the most delicious little thing I've ever had. . ." Alcina spoke softly, her gaze fixated completely on you. "Where have you been all my life?" She asked, fully not expecting you to answer, but was shocked when you did.

"Waiting for you." You admitted with a slight blush to your cheeks, eliciting the most beautiful smile you had ever seen form on Alcina's face.

"Fuck, you're perfect."

Her lips smashed against your own, engulfing you in a quick but fiery kiss.

She rested her forward against yours, both of you relaxing into the other's touch. You never thought she would ever be this close to you, but her touch comforted you, it made you feel safe.

However, your clean thoughts didn't last long when she pushed her full breasts against your own as she peppered your face with small kisses.

"I wanna go again." You blurted out, when her kisses reached your jawline.

"What?" She lifted her head to look at your face.

"I said. . ." You lifted your thumb up to swipe over her bottom lip. "I want to go again," You gazed at her with lustful eyes. "Please, Alcina."

"I see I severely underestimated you." Alcina smirked.

As she attempted to lower herself back down, you quickly grabbed her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.

"I want to be on top this time."

"Really?" She lifted a high brow, her smirk not leaving her face.

"Yes." You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked at her with your best begging eyes.

"Okay. . ." She was hesitant at first, as she had never dealt with anything like this before, and never, ever, had anybody even want to spend this much time with her. It was all new, and part of it scared her, but the other part was relieved that she no longer had to worry about crushing your smaller body.

Alcina repositioned herself to sit next to you, eyes never leaving your body movements as you gently moved yourself to her lap, but only straddling one of her thighs, which she instantly caught onto.

"Ahh, I see now. The little maid just needed something a little bit more physical, hmm? Such a needy little thing."

Due to her height, her breasts sat directly in front of your face, and you had to tilt you head up just to look at the woman in the face.

You run a hand down her chest, fingers stopping at the small clip at the front of her bra that held it closed.

"I also need to take this off. You got to see mine, I think it's only fair I get to see yours too."

Alcina smiled and playfully rolled her eyes at your response, loving the bit of confidence that you had to admit what you wanted.

"If that's what you want. . ." Alcina brings her hands to her chest, carefully unclipping the small clasp and sliding the thin lace off her body before throwing it to the side, freeing her large breasts from their holder.

Your eyes couldn't help but wander across her chest, your bottom lip tightly being pulled between your teeth as your gaze fixated on her breasts.

Alcina watched as your eyes lit up at her bare chest and reached a hand down to your own, bringing it up to her chest, and allowing you to feel her.

Her pale skin was soft and smooth like butter, and your hand slowly slid over every bare inch of her. As you lowered your hand, your thumb grazed over her hardened bud before pinching it between your fingers, eliciting a small gasp from Alcina at the unexpected pleasure.

Her hands slid down to your hips, kneading at the soft flesh as she slowly began to glide your cunt along the length of her thigh with ease as your wetness was still very prominent.

You cup her breast gently and toy with her nipple as she keeps a firm grip along your waist. Your hips start a gentle rhythm, slowly working your way across her thigh, softly moaning as you attempt to push yourself farther down.

Alcina watched with fascination at your neediness for her, and how quick it was for you to be completely at her mercy.

Before you knew it, your free hand had slid down her sternum, past her navel, and landed upon her thin lace panties that had been soaked since she made you cum for the first time. Your gaze fell upon hers, Alcina immediately knowing what you were asking for, and nodding her head reassuringly.

Your hand slid underneath the fabric, fingers gliding over her wet cunt as your hips rocked back and forth against her thigh. A soft moan escapes when your fingers circle Alcina's clit, gently giving pressure to her sensitive bud.

You bring your mouth to Alcina's chest, sending wet kissing all along her voluptuous pale breasts, following the slight pattern of her veins.

"Just like that my sweet girl." Alcina cooed, followed by a deep moan eliciting from the woman.

You do your best to fit her tit into your mouth, flicking your tongue against her nipple. Alcina's grip only grows tighter along your hips now that you weren't the only one getting pleasured, her trying to hold back her long line of deep moans at the contact she's been craving oh so much. Your fingers were doing wonders for her, pleasure coursing throughout her entire body in a way that had her going feral on the inside.

Alcina's hunger for you only grew stronger when you curled your fingers inside her needy cunt, her head lulling back at the sensation. Your movements, now turning slightly erratic as you felt a knot in your core.

"Alcina. . ." You softly moaned out her name, feeling yourself quickly spiraling towards your third orgasm.

Your soft moans harmonized perfectly in sync with her deep ones, both of you getting lost in the mountain of pleasure you were giving each other. You only gave her a moment to adjust to your fingers before you matched them with the pace of your hips, her wetness quickly dripping down your fingers and into the palm of your hand.

"Fuck— just like that." Alcina moaned out, eyes reopening and gazing back down at you, watching your frantic movements along her thigh and your lips wrapped around her nipple.

Her eyebrows knitted just as your breath caught in your throat, both of you completely on the brink of an orgasm.

"Cum with me, Y/N." Alcina tried to order but it came out as more of a beg, but she didn't care. All she wanted was for the two of you to finish at the same time.

You nodded your head frantically, vision going blurry as you came along her thick thigh. Not a moment later, Alcina deeply inhaled as your palm hit against her clit, causing her to cum just a moment later with a drawn out moan.

"Fuck—" You whimpered, legs shaking around her thigh as you calmed your erratic movements, trying to catch your breath.

Alcina was breathing heavily by the time she got through her orgasm, and deeply sighing as your fingers slipped out of her. You brought your hand to your mouth, flattening your tongue against the palm of your hand, lapping up her juices before shoving the same two fingers in your mouth to clean them from her release.

You hummed when your eyes met with hers, loving the taste of her along your tongue. But, before you got to enjoy it for too long, Alcina gently grappled your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth to make room for her lips, engulfing you in a passionate kiss. Her tongue slid past your parted lips, begging for a taste of what you had.

After a long minute of making out, you both broke the kiss simultaneously to catch your breath as neither of you had the chance to catch some air.

"You didn't have to do that, you know." Alcina finally spoke after a minute.

"I know, but I wanted to. You pleasure me, so I pleasure you, it's only fair." You said playfully.

"Then I guess next time I won't be so fair." Alcina toyed, forcing you to smile followed by a small chuckle.

She tucked a stray hair behind your ear before her face had suddenly changed its emotions, as if she was thinking about something. Her eyes had glued to your exposed neck, gazing at your veins and listening to the fast beat of your heart.

You watched her swallow with a distant gleam in her eye. Following her gaze, you realized what she was staring at.

Your neck.

"Alcina—" You gently cupped her cheek, pulling her out of her trance.

"What is it, dear?"

"You're thirsty, aren't you? And not for wine."

"Well— Yes, but that doesn't matter." She waves her hand, standoffish. "I have some old blood bags in the fridge—"

"You can drink mine." You immediately offered her.

"No, no. I'll find something or someone else." She averted her gaze, wanting to avoid the conversation of you being a potential victim.

"You won't hurt me." You repositioned yourself and tilted your head to the side, completely opening your neck to her. "I know you won't."

Alcina deeply exhaled, knowing she was dying to have a taste of you, but having a fear of taking it too far to the point where it was lethal. After all, she had a special liking towards you, and wouldn't forgive herself if something bad happened to you because of her being reckless.

"I can't—"

"It's okay." You took her larger hand in yours, interlacing your fingers with her long ones, and giving her hand a gentle squeeze, hoping to reassure her. "I trust you, Alcina. Let me help."

"Fine. . . But just this once." Alcina sighed, hesitating to move. She licked her stained red lips before slowly leaning her head towards you.

You felt her hot breath along your neck, and her hovering just over your skin.

"I trust you." You repeat yourself for her to encourage her to continue.

Her hand reaches for your jaw, holding your head still as she quickly takes in your scent with a deep inhale.

"You smell divine. . ." She admitted, her nose immediately sensing the fading of your perfume with the lovely smell of sex.

Once she found the right spot, Alcina was careful when sinking her fangs into your flesh. You grew silent as you did your best to remain still, sucking in a breath at the sharp sting along your skin. Her thumb stroked your cheek to help keep you calm and at ease.

The pain was mild, and was quick for you to get used to. Alcina hummed when she finally got a deeper taste of you, knowing that you were the sweetest thing she had ever had. Her eyes closed as she got her fix of what she needed most.

After a few minutes, your vision started to grow a tad blurry, and you instantly felt relieved when Alcina slowly took her fangs out of you as carefully as she could. She used her tongue to soothe the faintly reddened area, completely cleaning your neck of any blood.

"Thank you. . ." She licked her lips with a grateful smile and her cheeks slightly flushed.

"You're welcome." You smiled back.

"Let's get you cleaned up, darling." Alcina offered, gently lifting you from her lap and setting you back down on the bed beside her.

She left you alone for a minute as she grabbed a wet rag along with some supplies to take care of your wound. The two of you sat in silence as you used the rag to clean yourself off while Alcina tended to your neck, cleaning the area completely and placing a bandage on top. She gave your neck a small kiss before returning everything to the bathroom.

Once she came back out, Alcina noticed the tired look on your face, and smiled weakly.

"You must be exhausted, why don't you sleep in here tonight?" She offered, making her way back towards the bed.

"Where would I sleep?"

"With me of course." Alcina chuckles as she makes her way to her side of the bed, and takes her thong off before sliding under the lush sheets behind you. "Come on, lay with me." She lifted the sheets next to her, making room for you to slide in at her side.

The two of you faced each other, gazing into each other's eyes silently before Alcina broke the silence.

"Don't be shy dear, come closer." Alcina opened her arms for you.

You didn't hesitate to scoot closer towards her with a small smile, tucking your face into her neck and intertwining your legs with hers. You yawned just as Alcina wrapped an arm around you, pulling you flush against her warm body.

Sleep instantly took over you, exhaustion hitting you like a stack of bricks and you soon found yourself falling asleep in Alcina's arms as she gently traced patterns along your bare back.

She let herself enjoy the peaceful moment, waiting for you to be completely asleep before she allowed herself to fall into a deep slumber with you tucked safely in her arms.

[bluefox-13]

Stood Up (Part 2) (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x Fem!reader

A/N: Thank you SO MUCH for all the love you showed to the first chapter of this fic! I was honestly so overwhelmed, I just had to write a second chapter which I hope you’ll enjoy as much as the first one!

Just a quick reminder that my requests are open and I would love to write for any of Gwen’s characters <3

~2k

You didn’t want to admit it but since meeting Larissa at Ellen’s you had barely stopped thinking about her. After leaving the restaurant you’d told yourself that it had only been a one-night stand and you probably wouldn’t see the woman again, and you were sure Larissa thought the same about you.

And yet, the tall woman had been on your mind almost constantly. Even as you were composing a bouquet of white lilies, you couldn’t help but smile as you wondered if Larissa liked receiving flowers. You shook your head a little. You should not be having this kind of thoughts, who ever thought about giving flowers to a one-time lover? Or perhaps…No. No, it wasn’t anything more than that. You wouldn’t allow it to be more than that.

You couldn’t help it. When you sat down at your usual table at Ellen’s on the next Friday, you couldn’t help but wonder if Larissa would come. You had no way to find the tall woman. You knew she was a school principal but that was about it. She, on the other hand, knew you would dine at Ellen’s every week on the same day.

“The usual ?” Lydia asked as she stopped by your table. You nodded absentmindedly, your eyes glued on the booth where the tall woman had sat the previous week.

“Thinking about the lady ?” Your friend pushed a smile and you rolled your eyes in response. “Don’t be ridiculous, Lydia.” You groaned before quickly adding “Has she booked a table, though ?”. The waitress shook her head and told you that she had not, but you never knew, she could show up to the restaurant without a reservation.

And it was ridiculous really, to feel disappointed when after over an hour the booth had remained empty, and you had just finished eating your food. But then again you couldn’t help it.

Switching your attention back to the cheating man who was, as expected, dining with his mistress, you wondered if the young woman knew that he was married. Had he told her that he was divorced? Or perhaps he had promised her that he would, that he didn’t love his wife anymore and would leave her so the two of them could live happily ever after. Foolish girl.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when a hand landed on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, your breath hitching in your chest as you noticed the perfectly manicured fingers.

“Is this seat taken ?” Larissa asked with a soft smile and all you could do was shake your head in response. She took her jacket off before sitting down in front of you, your lips pulling in a smile as you contemplated her beauty.

“You came.” Was all you could say, earning a small chuckle from the tall woman. “Of course I did. The wine is exquisite.” Larissa waited a few seconds before adding “And I knew you would be here.” And that alone was enough to make you melt.

Lydia appeared by your table to take Larissa’s order. A glass of wine, she had already had dinner. The waitress gave you a wink as she turned around and walked away after scribbling down on her notepad.

“So I take it that you came back for more ?” You asked and took a sip of wine. “More ?” Larissa raised an eyebrow. “More what? Sex ?” She grinned a little seeing your pupils dilating, how good it made her feel knowing you wanted her.

“Yes, sex.” You nodded, biting your tongue at the thought of asking if maybe, just maybe, she wanted more than sex. You doubted someone like her would ever want to be seen with someone like you. And it wasn’t just about the age gap. No, Larissa was simply so much more than you, in every way. But perhaps you could settle for this, casual sex with the woman, no strings attached.

There was a flash of something in Larissa’s eyes, it was quick but not quick enough for you not to catch it. She seemed almost…Disappointed? No, you were probably imagining things.

But you weren’t. Larissa pushed a smile but her heart squeezed in disappointment and she mentally scolded herself for being such a naive woman. You had spent the whole week haunting her mind, your voice whispering in her ear when she was typing out emails late at night in her office, the ghost of your hands brushing up her thighs when she was in an important meeting.

Larissa had stopped believing in love a long time ago when she was still a teenager. But you had looked at her in such an intoxicating way, like she was the most beautiful woman you had ever laid eyes on, and she had thought that maybe…But of course not. You were too young and she was far too old, you were pretty and full of life and she was-

“Hey!” Your voice snapped her out of her thoughts and you leaned in a little, gently placing your hand on hers. “We don’t have to.” You said “Have sex. We don’t have to. I will gladly sit here with you for hours, just chatting and learning to know each other as we empty a bottle of red wine.”

And that’s exactly what you chose to do. For a little over an hour you two talked about everything and anything, Larissa asking most of the questions, seemingly eager to learn more about you but also not divulging too much about herself.

The hands on the clock were close to midnight when Lydia approached your table again. She apologized for interrupting your conversation but the restaurant was about to close. “The bar next door is open until two, though.” She added as she handed you the bill and you paid for both Larissa and yourself.

-

“Night Lydia, see you next week!” You waved at your friend and pulled the door open for Larissa before quickly following her outside.

“So, where is your car parked ?” You asked, burying your hands in your pockets. “Oh just a little down the road.” Larissa gestured with her left hand and you start walking that way.

“It’s late, I don’t want anything happening to you out there in the dark.” You simply said. Truth be told, you knew Larissa would have no problem overpowering a potential attacker, but you didn’t want this moment to end.

“Let me drive you home ?” She offered once you’d reached her car and you immediately declined, it was late and you didn’t want to bother her. “I live nearby.” You said. “Really, I will be home in less than-“ Your words were suddenly cut off by her hands on your cheeks. She grasped your face in her hands and knotted her fingers in your hair, tipping your head back to press her lips against yours.

She kissed you hard, her mouth was hot and urgent and needy. It was a desperate kiss, her lips hungry against yours as she drew your bodies together. And you took it back: you wouldn’t settle for casual sex with her. It would never, ever be enough.

Larissa eventually pulled back from the kiss, breathing heavily as she pressed her forehead against yours. You could feel her chest moving up and down, butterflies blooming below your navel when she started laughing.

“Let me take you home.” She whispered, and it wasn’t a question this time. “Fine.” You agreed “But only if you come in for a minute.” You added, making Larissa laugh again. She gave a nod, you had a deal.

————————————

You barely had stepped foot inside your apartment when Larissa was all over you once more. Her eager mouth back on yours. She knew she was kissing you too hard, going too fast, but she simply couldn’t make herself slow down. She’d been hurting too much for too long and she wouldn’t take the risk of letting you slip through her fingers.

On any other day, or with any other woman, Larissa would have been embarrassed by her behavior. But there was something about that night, or about you, that made her feel confident. Beautiful. Invincible.

She had you pressed against the wall, one of her hands snaking down between your bodies until she made quick work of unbuttoning your trousers.

“Say it,” She whispered. “Ask me to fuck you.”

You caught her mouth in a kiss but she pulled away, leaving you craving for more. “Say it.” She said again, more demanding this time. “Please, please, fuck me.” You whispered barely audibly, a wanton moan escaping your lips when Larissa’s fingers slipped between your folds and slid right into your soaked sex.

“Look at me.” She demanded and you obeyed, finding her blue eyes unabashedly filled with lust. She pulled her fingers out only to push them back deeper inside you.

“God!” You cried out when she curled her fingers inside your cunt and raked her fingertips against your g-spot. The tall woman let out a low chuckle and reminded you that her name was Larissa, she wouldn’t let God or any other man take credit for the pleasure that she was giving you.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you ?” She purred as her free hand pushed your shirt over your head only to let it fall to the floor. She nipped at your neck, leaving lipstick marks on your jaw and slowly moving down to your chest.

Her lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking on it almost painfully and making you whine, writhing against the wall.

“Please, Larissa…” You begged, hips bucking against the tall woman’s hand to meet her thrusts. “I need, please…” You mumbled, knowing your words weren’t making much sense.

“I know, sweetheart.” Larissa purred in your ear, her thumb coming to draw lazy circles on your clit, making you whine even louder. You were close, so close you could feel yourself contracting around the woman’s fingers.

“Look at me.” Larissa demanded again, grabbing a handful of your hair and giving it a gentle tug so you would look up at her. “Will you cum for me ?” She whispered against your mouth, capturing your lips in a heated kiss to muffle your moans as you were pushed over the edge.

Slowly you came down from your high, moving your hips away from Larissa’s hand when your sex throbbed from the overstimulation.

“Let me tuck you into bed.” Larissa smiled and pressed a quick kiss on your lips. “But-“ you started, ready to argue about wanting to make her cum. “Another day.” She said, carrying you to your bedroom. “I need to go back to Nevermore. But we will meet again, plenty of Fridays to come.” She whispered as she tucked you in and kissed your forehead.

You tried your best to keep your eyes open, wanting to keep Larissa by your side as long as possible. But exhaustion and alcohol had worked their magic on you and you fell asleep in less than a couple of minutes.

Larissa took a last look at you before walking out of your bedroom. You looked at peace, she noted, like you had really enjoyed your time with her.

She pulled a pen from her handbag and borrowed a sticky note from your kitchen. Thinking for a moment before writing you a note.

“Here is my number, use it wisely! To (hopefully) many more Friday evenings spent together. Yours, Larissa. Xx”

————————————

Tags @weemssapphic @larissaoftarthweems @mistressweems :)

[bluefox-13]

pxelo | tonowari x reader x ronal [nsfw]

masterlist

pairing: tonowari x fem!human reader x ronal

word count: 10k

warnings: nsfw, threesome, human x na'vi, oral sex, p in v sex, v slight femdom (ronal is bossy), size difference

summary: As a human on Pandora, you are used to feeling like an outsider. You cannot bond with the flora and fauna the way the Na’vi can, but that doesn’t mean you can’t watch and admire. You’ve always been fascinated by the Na’vi and their ways of life, and the newness of the Metkayina is equally as captivating as everything else you’ve seen so far. But there’s one thing that has really caught your attention in Awa’atlu. Or, perhaps more accurately, two things. And it seems like you've caught their attention right back

read it on ao3

Awa’atlu is a wonder.

The white sand shores and bright turquoise ocean is reminiscent of a tropical paradise, and the way the Metkayina interact with the world around them is nothing short of beautiful. You watch it all in awe, appreciative and slightly envious by turn. 

As a human on Pandora, you are used to feeling like an outsider. You cannot bond with the flora and fauna the way the Na’vi can, but that doesn’t mean you can’t watch and admire. You’ve always been fascinated by the Na’vi and their ways of life, and the newness of the Metkayina is equally as captivating as everything else you’ve seen so far.

But there’s one thing that has really caught your attention in Awa’atlu. Or, perhaps more accurately, two things.

You had come to the ocean-side village alongside Norm to care for Kiri after she had suffered from her episode, and after the other humans had returned to their outpost among the Omaticaya, you had chosen to stay. Initially, your presence among the Metkayina was met with suspicion. As far as you’re aware, they’ve never actually encountered a human before. They watch you with sharp gazes and narrowed eyes, and maintain careful distance from you. You can’t blame them; you represent the people that have invaded their planet.

But over the few weeks that you’ve been living in the village, there are two particular gazes that weigh heavier than any other. 

Tonowari and Ronal carry the responsibility for the whole clan on their shoulders, and you understand that your appearance sets them on edge. The way they watch you so closely is understandable, really. 

But still. Their stares fluster you in a way that is absolutely mortifying.

They’re both so tall and beautiful, the perfect picture of a united front working together for the good of their people. With the classic azure skin and big blue eyes that are so characteristic of the Metkayina, they’re almost supernaturally attractive. Even though they’re looking at you because they are suspicious, their close regard makes you feel hot and itchy underneath your skin. It might be easier to be watched by them if they weren’t so goddamned attractive.

For the most part, you stay out of their way as best you can. Your presence amongst the clan is disruptive enough – you figure the best thing to do is keep a low profile. 

For the most part, that works just fine. You keep close to the Sullys when you can, The whole reason you’re staying in the village in the first place is so you can keep an eye on Kiri, and that involves living among the Sullys in their marui pod. It can be a little uncomfortable, at times – you are the only human, and it can lead to you feeling terribly out of place living with them, especially since you know Neytiri is not particularly pleased with your presence. Despite this, sometimes you find that the clan leaders watch you just as closely when you’re around Jake and Neytiri as they do when you’re alone.

The Sully kids, at least, don’t mind your presence in the slightest. They take to dragging you around the place, which keeps you occupied. Tuk especially seems to relish hanging around you; perhaps it’s because you’re roughly the same size, despite the age difference.

She drags you swimming with her, laughing joyously as she splashes around and explores the reefs along the village. You follow her contently, relying pretty heavily on your exo-mask in the water as you go diving or sitting on the wooden pier leading out into the water.

“Watch me dive, watch me dive!” Tuk cheers, showing off her form as she goes running off the platform and leaps.

It’s not particularly graceful, and she hits the water with a splash that has you wincing from where you’re sitting just outside the Sully marui pod. Still though, when she resurfaces you make sure to clap and smile in approval. 

“Wow!” You call, grinning. “So impressive, Tuk!”

Your legs are dangling into the water from the edge of the marui pod, and you feel your skin beginning to warm and dry beneath the sun. You have no proper swimming attire and the clothes of the Na’vi are too big for you, so you’ve taken to swimming in your cotton underwear and old bra. They’re pale purple and covered in delicate little white flowers, and you might be embarrassed about it if the Na’vi weren’t so comfortable with their own bodies. You know they really don’t give a shit about what you wear.

Tuk is grinning, swimming back closer to you with her ears flicking in delight at your praise. “Do you wanna see me do it again?”

“Oh, I would just love to.” You say, lips twitching. 

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Kiri floating on her back in the water, her eyes closed and head tilted back towards the sky. She has been quiet since her episode, though you are pleased to see that she looks much brighter and healthier than before. 

Tuk has just started to wiggle her way out of the water in order to jump in again when a shadow falls across you from behind. Startled, you raise your head. 

Behind you stands the tall, broad form of the Metkayina clan leader. Tonowari cuts an intimidating figure, with his broad shoulders and many tattoos and his neutral, even expression. His ears are lowered and his jaw is clenched, and he stares at you with those bottomless blue eyes in such a way that your heart is sent galloping wildly in your chest. 

“Oh!” You choke, startled by his presence. “I- Hello!”

Your grasp on the Na’vi language is pretty good, but your accent sounds thick and clumsy thanks to your nerves. Tonowari tilts his head, watching you closely. The Metkayina are built differently to the Omaticaya; this close, you can really admire the broadness of his shoulders, his strong chest, and his huge biceps. 

It takes a moment for you to realise that he’s watching you right back. It appears his focus is on your clothing, however. His brow is slightly furrowed as his eyes trail over your cotton bra and somewhat skimpy underpants. They’re still damp from the water, clinging to you in a way that has turned them slightly transparent. They’re not nearly as revealing as some of the Na’vi coverings, and yet you feel embarrassingly exposed all the same.

You shift, and try to bring your arms up across your chest in a way that is casual. When Tonowari doesn’t immediately respond, you decide to try again.

“Um… are you looking for Jake?”

That finally gets a response from him. He takes a step forward, and you try not to flinch as he lowers himself down to one knee in front of you. You have never been this close to him before, and it feels as though his gaze is burning a hole in you.

“Yes,” He says, and his voice is so low and rough that it sends a shiver down your spine. “I am looking for Jakesully.”

“He-” Oh god, your voice is cracking. How mortifying. You clear your throat hastily. “He is out on his ilu, with Neytiri.”

Tonowari dips his head in acknowledgement. You notice his eyes straying towards your chest again, and you feel yourself grow warm under his gaze. Does he even realise what he’s doing? He must find your human form and clothes completely bizarre. You try not to shrink under his stare.

“I see,” He says, and his eyes dart away from you towards the water, where Tuk is now floating around Kiri. “You have been left alone with the children?”

That rankles a little, despite your efforts to remain calm. You know that both he and Ronal have been eyeing you mistrustfully from the start, but you resent the implication that you are not trustworthy enough to have around the kids.

“I care for them.” You say, and your tone is a little sharper than you had intended. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to them.”

His ears lower, and you wonder if you have upset him. 

“You are small.” He points out. “You are not likely to be able to stop anything from happening even if you wanted to.”

Ouch. That one hurt.

You straighten your shoulders, before clambering your way up to your feet. Slowly, Tonowari mirrors you and stands as well. Even at your full height, you barely reach his navel. It’s a fight to keep your expression neutral when faced with the sheer size of him.

“Well,” You say a little stiffly, momentarily distracted by the sunlight reflecting off the glass beads that dangle around his chest. “Jake and Neytiri trust me. I’m enough for them.”

Tonowari raises his chin at that, his mouth turning down as his ears pin back. He doesn’t appear pleased with that statement at all, staring down at you with his lips pressed tightly together. You feel pinned under his gaze, and try not to shift around anxiously.

It’s Kiri’s voice that breaks the tension between you.

“Dad will be back soon,” She calls from the water. When you turn to look at her, you can see the way her eyes dart between you and the Olo’eyktan. “We can tell him to go and see you as soon as gets home.”

For a long moment, Tonowari says nothing. He just keeps looking at you. It’s a little overwhelming, and you find yourself struggling to maintain eye contact. Eventually though, he gives a little rumble deep in his chest and steps back.

“Yes.” He says, his voice a little louder now. “Tell him.”

You nod cautiously, and he nods once in return before turning on his heel and striding away. You’re left standing on the bouncy floor of the net bridge that connects the Sully marui to the rest of the village, wondering just what on earth all that was about.

You can’t help but wonder if you’ve done something to offend the chief’s family. After that one little interaction with Tonowari outside of the marui, it seems like his and Ronal’s staring is upped a notch.

Now, it’s like you can’t leave the marui at all without being under some sort of surveillance. You can feel their intense stares from all the way across the village. While Tonowari’s stares are rather obvious, Ronal’s gaze is more subtle. She watches you from beneath her dark lashes, casting looks in your direction anytime you’re wandering the beaches or following after the Sully’s in the village. 

The tsa’hik even watches you when she comes to visit the Sully marui to check on Kiri. It would be easy to miss the way her eyes slide over to you after she examines Kiri, but you are beginning to grow familiar with being watched. It feels like a weight settling over your skin, and you fight not to fidget as you help Neytiri cut up fruit.

“She is doing well.” Ronal says, a little stiffly. “She is strong.”

The relationship between her and Neytiri is still a little strained, but they have established something of an understanding. 

Neytiri nods, her ears flicked back in gratitude. “I thank you for your help. Will you stay for food?”

Oh god, please say no, you think in a panic. You don’t know how you would cope sitting in such close quarters with her for so long, especially not if she keeps looking at you like she has been. Her regard is intimidating, but it also makes you feel clumsy and stupid. She’s probably one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen, and having her stare at you like that is driving you a little crazy.

“No,” Ronal says, much to your relief. “But I have brought you summauti.”

She proffers a basket of fruit, and Neytiri’s expression softens a little in acknowledgement of the gesture. She takes it, and maintains careful eye contact as she nods.

Ronal’s head turns then so that she is staring at you head-on. It is the first time that she has looked at you properly, not just out of the corner of her eye, and you find yourself startled by the intensity of it. 

“Does the sky demon eat with you?” She asks.

You try not to shrink under her gaze, and instead tilt your head up to meet her stare. To the side, you can see Neytiri beginning to frown, glancing between the two of you in clear confusion.

“Yes,” says Neytiri. Though you know she is not pleased with your presence among her family, her shoulders square and she sounds defensive. “She watches over Kiri.”

One of Ronal’s ears twitches, as though that’s not the answer she was hoping for. Still though, she appears to lose interest in both you and the conversation. She just clicks her tongue, before stepping back out through the marui pod and disappearing without another word.

In the ensuing silence, Neytiri turns to you with an almost comically bemused and suspicious expression.

“What was that?” She demands, eyes narrowed.

You’re still watching the entrance to the marui, the fabric of the tent flapping slightly from where Ronal had pushed it aside on her way out.

“I have no idea.” You answer honestly, completely bewildered.

The Sully kids settle into Metkayina life slowly, but steadily. They are learning well, adjusting steadily, and they begin to grow happier and more comfortable with their surroundings. It is heartening to see, especially since they’re such sweet kids. 

It’s all going so well. Perhaps it’s inevitable that a wrench is thrown into the gears at some point. 

The wrench comes in the form of Lo’ak and Ao’nung arguing, once again. It’s not unusual, and it’s certainly not the first time that it escalates into shoving each other. The problem comes when you decide to try and step in and try to keep them apart.

God, what a stupid thing to do. They’re both bigger than you, and they don’t even really see you as you shout at them to stop. It’s Ao’nung that ends up knocking into you, though it’s not really his fault – it’s his tail that gets you, long and wide like a fin. It smacks into your side and knocks you back into the ground.

You hit the sand with a slap, your head knocking into the ground and sending stars blooming across the back of your eyelids. There’s a sharp burst of pain in your shoulder, and you wince as you reach to grab your arm.

It’s painful and embarrassing, but at the very least it ends their argument pretty quickly. Lo’ak yells louder, calls Ao’nung an asshole, but then crouches by your side quickly to check that you’re alright.

Ao’nung has paused, and watches Lo’ak kneel down beside you to check you over with an odd expression on his face. You’d like to think it’s guilt, but you really don’t think he cares that much.

“You could have seriously hurt her!” Lo’ak snarls, his lips peeling back off his teeth. “She is not like us, her bones break easily!”

“Stop that,” You snap, irritated by all the arguing. “That’s enough.”

Ao’nung’s tail is coiled between his legs, his big blue eyes watching you with an odd sort of heaviness. “I will take you to my mother.”

Well, that damn near knocks the breath out of you all over again. 

“What?” You practically yelp, taking Lo’ak’s hand as he hauls you to your feet. “No, no, I don’t think-”

“You are bleeding.” Ao’nung interrupts, reaching out to point towards the arm you had landed on.

You follow his gaze, only to find a tiny scratch on your forearm. You must have landed on a sharp little stone or something. Though it’s oozing a little blood, there’s no pain at all.

“What?” You say again, distracted and a little bewildered. “No, that’s nothing. It’s a little scratch, I don’t need-”

“Oh man,” Lo’ak interrupts, his own brow furrowing. “Fuck, you’re bleeding. Should I get dad?”

“Stop being so ridiculous!” You hiss at both of them, covering the little scratch with your hand. You know that the two of them have gotten worse scratches in their training, nevermind the injuries they’ve given each other. Their overreactions would almost be comical, if it weren’t so embarrassing.

“My mother will wish to see to you,” Ao’nung continues to insist, frowning. “Especially since I was the cause of this.”

The contrition is odd, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to take no for an answer, especially as he reaches out to grab you by the arm. His grip is strong and rough, and you yelp as he tugs your shoulder painfully in its socket.

He whips his hand away from you immediately, clearly startled by your noise of pain. Lo’ak leaps forward to push at him again.

“I told you she’s easy to break!” Lo’ak snaps.

To your surprise, Ao’nung does not argue back. He just glares at Lo’ak, before looking back at you. Instead of grabbing at you again, he settles for attempting to herd you back towards the village using his outstretched arms like you’re an animal.

It becomes clear that you don’t have much of a choice pretty quickly. Lo’ak soon joins in with trying to herd you towards the tsa’hik’s marui. You have no idea what’s going on but when you try to dig your heels into the sand, Lo’ak loops his arm around yours and pulls you on. 

“It’s just a scratch, it’s hardly even bleeding!” You hiss as you get closer and closer to the marui, your nerves flaring as you realise that you’re going to be presented in front of Ronal in a matter of moments.

It’s Ao’nung that answers; his ears are low and his tail is curled between his legs. “We were told not to fight. If my mother finds out later that I disobeyed and also drew blood…”

He trails off, though his meaning is clear. You find yourself confused. They have drawn more blood than the measly scratch on your arm in their past scuffles, so you can’t imagine why they are so contrite about this now. Does he mean that he shouldn’t have drawn your blood? Lo’ak’s concern isn’t entirely surprising, but Ao’nung? You don’t even know the kid, but you can tell that he’s not sold on the idea of having a human around the clan. You getting a tiny little scratch shouldn’t phase him in the slightest.

When Ao’nung marches you to the marui, you shrink into yourself a little. 

Ronal is sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of coral, and she’s crushing it down into a fine powder. When Ao’nung pulls aside the fabric covering the entrance of the marui and steps in, her head snaps up to look at him.

“Mother,” He says carefully, before reaching behind him to draw you forward. “The sky demon was hurt.”

The speed with which Ronal stands is startling, especially considering her swollen belly. You try not to flinch back too obviously.

“What happened?” She asks tightly, her nostrils flaring. 

Oh man. Ao’nung is braver than you are, because if you were on the receiving end of that sharp glare you think you would crumble to dust. As it is, Ao’nung just ducks his head repentantly. 

“I knocked her over. It was an accident.” He mumbles, his ears flat.

“Accident.” Ronal hisses at him, furious. “You were warned-”

“I am sorry.” Ao’nung winces.

Despite yourself, you actually feel sorry for the kid. You were a teenaged idiot yourself once, and it really was an accident on his part. You shouldn’t have inserted yourself into their stupid bickering the way you did.

“It’s not really his fault.” You manage not to quail under Ronal’s gaze when she turns to look at you. “I was underfoot.”

That doesn’t seem to appease her very much, and she just bares her teeth at Ao’nung and Lo’ak once more. “Your father will deal with you later. Out.”

The boys don’t wait to be told twice. They turn on their heels and flee the hut, leaving you alone and nervous as Ronal approaches.

Good lord, she’s tall. As she bends down on one knee to look at you, you start to sweat. Shit, she’s probably the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen in your life. Her elegant features and enormous round eyes are sharpened by the dark tattoos that decorate her face like rippling waves, her face framed by a cloud of soft dark hair. In the privacy of her own home, she is wearing a woven top that is significantly more simple than her usual decorative clothing, and it does almost nothing to cover her breasts. You struggle not to look, cheeks burning.

“Show me.” She demands, her voice husky with aggravation.

You stick your arm out immediately – you value your life far too much to argue with her right now. She reaches out and closes her thick four fingers around your wrist, pulling you a step closer so she can peer at the damage. Honestly, the cut is so minor that you’re embarrassed to even be wasting her time with it.

“It’s really nothing-” You begin, but she doesn’t appear interested in listening to your protests.

“I have a paste that will fix this.” She says instead, pushing herself to her feet.

You’re expecting her to move towards the table further into the marui where there are bowls of pastes and herbal medicines lined up in neat little rows, but her next move takes you entirely by surprise. 

She tucks her hands beneath your arms and picks you right up as if you weigh nothing. Even when you yelp in shock, she hardly looks at you at all. Fuck, she’s lifting you so easily that it sends an electric little jolt right down your spine.

With you dangling in the air like an idiot, Ronal steps over to one of the large woven chairs and sits down in it. Bizarrely, you end up sitting on her lap like a fucking child.

You’re frozen, staring up at her with wide eyes. You can’t figure out why on earth she would have put you in this position – how the fuck is this conducive to healing?

She must notice the look on your face, because her brow raises and her ear flicks. 

“You are too small.” She points out. “You think I should stay on my knees hunched over just to treat you?”

“No.” You say hastily, still flushed and embarrassed. 

Oh god, okay. It’s just so she can reach you. That makes this okay, doesn’t it? There’s nothing weird about this. You’re just… You’re just straddling one of her wide thighs so that she can reach your arm, that’s all. Maybe you’re the one that’s making this weird just by getting awkward about it?

You have to fight not to squirm as Ronal dabs a cooling clay-like paste over the abrasion on your arm. It soothes the light sting, but you hardly notice. Your attention has narrowed down to the point of contact between you and Ronal; you’re still wearing the thin underwear you had been swimming in earlier, which means that you feel mortifyingly bare and exposed where you straddle her single thigh.

When she grips at your bicep, you wince. You’re pretty sure your shoulder is bruising, and Ronal’s little grimace confirms your suspicion.

“You were watching the children when my son knocked you down?” Ronal asks, her voice low.

“Uh.. yes.” You say a little awkwardly. “Kiri, mainly. That’s why I’m here. I’ve got first aid training, so if she has another seizure I might be able to help. Not that you can’t help too of course! I, um, I know that you’re quite skilled-”

Oh god, you’re babbling. The only thing that saves you from total humiliation is the fact that Ronal nods at what you say. Her face is settled into grim neutrality but she seems satisfied with your compliment to her skills.

You can’t help but glance down. The Metkayina are built differently to the Omaticaya – their lower legs and arms are wider, the tails larger, their upper bodies stronger. Their thighs are a little wider than that of the Omaticaya as well, and you glance at where your own legs are sprawled awkwardly around her upper leg, your skintone contrasting oddly with the ripple-like blue stripes across her skin.

When your eyes fall on her stomach, you swallow. You’re so stupid – she has a mate, she has a whole family. You are almost certainly reading too much into this whole thing. You need to get yourself under control.

You clear your throat. “Will your baby be here soon?”

Ronal doesn’t look at you, but hums quietly beneath her breath. “A few more months to go.”

Ah. You had thought that she was closer to the end than that. You try to shift your weight, before realising that there’s no way of adjusting yourself without rubbing yourself awkwardly against her. You don’t want her to get the wrong idea, so you go still.

After a beat, she looks at you from beneath the fan of her dark lashes. “I am big now. It makes moving difficult, sometimes.”

You seize on the opportunity for regular conversation with both hands. Now that you’re this close to her, she hasn’t sent a single glare in your direction. Her gaze is as watchful and intense as ever, but it doesn’t seem to be fuelled by hostility. You’re determined to keep on good terms with her, so you smile as brightly as you can through your mask.

“I can imagine,” You say quickly, relieved with how well this entire interaction is going. “If you’d like, I can help out! I can… I can collect herbs, or gather coral, or whatever you want.”

You don’t think you’re imagining the way the corner of her mouth twitches, but it’s such a small movement that you nearly miss it entirely. She’s still looking at you through half-lidded eyes. This close, her stare doesn’t seem hateful or distrustful at all. It’s enough to have you growing warm and embarrassed where you’re sitting on her thigh.

“It is not just movement,” She says, and her tone has turned very casual. “I am too large now to comfortably be intimate with my mate in the way I would like to be.”

You freeze. That is absolutely not what you were expecting.

“Oh.” You say. It sounds as though you’re being strangled.

“Tonowari takes care of me and my needs, of course. He is a generous mate.” Ronal continues, as though this is a perfectly normal conversation to be having with someone she considers a demon who is currently splayed across her lap. “But sometimes I miss getting fucked properly, like before he put the baby in me.”

It feels a little as though you’ve just been clubbed over the head. Had Ao’nung hit you harder than you realised? Are you absolutely losing your mind right now? There’s no way the woman who has been watching you with a narrow-eyed glare ever since you got here is talking to you so casually.

She looks up from your arm, eyes piercing. “You understand what I mean, don’t you?”

“What?” You breathe, lost.

“You are lonely here, no?” Ronal asks. She has no mercy; it doesn’t matter that you’re obviously confused. “When was the last time that someone touched you? Was intimate with you?”

There must be some translation issue going on here. Maybe your grasp on Na’vi wasn't as good as you thought it was. Or maybe you’re just imagining the undertones that seem to be going on here. Still though, while this is bewilderingly out of your comfort zone, you attempt to match her casual tone.

“I-” You swallow thickly. “A while.”

Ronal hums again. Your arm has long since been treated, but she has not yet let go of you. She is too busy watching you as though she can read every thought in your head from your face. You wonder if she can tell how flustered you are – it must be obvious. Oh god, does this mean that she’s noticed the way you’ve been looking at her and her husband? Noticed the way you’ve been admiring them? You thought you were being subtle.

“Jakesully does not touch you?” She asks suddenly. “Neytiri does not touch you?”

You nearly choke. “No! No, I just- I’m staying with them to help out, that’s all.”

Something in her face changes at that. It’s subtle enough that you nearly don’t notice, but upon closer look you see that she looks pleased.

“You must be frustrated.” She says lightly. 

 You feel more aware than ever of your position. You’re wearing nothing but your still-damp underwear, straddling the thigh of the large, beautiful woman who is now asking you whether or not you are sexually frustrated. Surely you can’t be imagining this? This can’t possibly be an ambiguous situation.

You should probably be cautious with your answer. You’re in a precarious position as a human within the clan, and you should really think carefully about your answer here. The last thing you need is to cause a diplomatic incident by accidentally offending the Olo’eyktan’s family. But as it stands, you’re feeling reckless and stupid and yes, a little frustrated.

“Yes.” You breathe. “Kind of.”

Ronal begins to smile for real then. It’s not a soft smile; her lips pull back from her sharp teeth in a way that is honestly very intimidating, and her hands come down to land on your hips.

“How long?” She asks, leaning forward to murmur against your ear. “How long have you gone without relief?”

You shudder a little as her breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your throat. It feels like you’re going crazy. 

When you don’t answer, she clicks her tongue impatiently. “A few weeks? Months? Years?”

“Over a year.” You say shakily.

 It’s not like you didn’t have options – the outpost for humans living among the Na’vi were full of people looking to get busy with each other, but there was no one that really caught your eye and the old vibrator you kept locked in a chest under your bunk did the job just fine. Or at least, you thought it had. Judging by the growing sense of yearning in your lower belly, you’re beginning to suspect you’re more touch-starved than you realised.

Ronal makes a soft noise, her wide hands flexing and tightening around your hips. “Poor thing. So neglected.”

Her next move surprises you so much you nearly jolt right off her lap. She uses her hold on your hips to pull you further up on her thigh. You slide along her taut skin, your clothed pussy grinding against the corded muscle.

You squeak, throwing your hands up to grab onto her shoulders. When she does it again, a shudder tears its way through your spine. Heat is building fast in the juncture between your legs, and your hips jut forward along her outstretched thigh as she encourages you to rock against her.

She keeps pulling you to rock your hips with one hand as she raises her other hand to tug at your bra.

 “Remove this. I wish to see you.” She orders.

You scramble to reach the clasp behind you immediately. Maybe you should think this through a little bit more, but you’re horny and desperate and running on pure instinct right now. You tear your bra off and throw it to the side, taking a breath as Ronal’s hand runs across your bared breasts.

“Oh god,” You breathe, clutching at her shoulders as she encourages you to rock against her thigh. 

Sweat is beginning to build around your brow as your panties grow almost uncomfortably sticky. You’re certain she can feel how slick you are even through the cotton of your underwear, but she doesn’t seem to mind. 

In fact, it seems to delight her. When the hand on your hip slips from your waist down lower, her thumb comes to rest against your clit through the soft cotton of your panties. You let out a breathy moan of surprise, your nails digging a little into her shoulders as you clutch her for leverage.

“They have not been taking care of you,” Ronal says, right as her fingers dip inside your underwear. 

When she rubs a careful circle around your clit you whine, desperate for some relief. She runs her fingers experimentally along your slit. You’re so damn horny that even the slightest touch has you rutting your hips forward into her hand, desperate for her to touch you more, harder.

“Who?” You ask hazily. Your thoughts feel clouded and stupid – her fingers are big, and your head spins when her thick index finger begins to press inside you.

“Jakesully. Neytiri. The forest people.” She rumbles, her ears twitching as you clench around her finger. “You are so wet. You have been wanting this, yes?”

“Yes, but-” You gasp when another one of her fingers enter you, the stretch stinging for a moment before easing into warm pleasure. “Jake and Neytiri have been taking care of me. They just would never- they are mated.”

Ronal snorts a soft chuckle, her fingers curling lazily inside you as you shiver against her. “So? It is not unusual for a mated pair to court another.”

That is news to you. You know little about Na’vi mating practices; polyamory had never crossed your mind.

“What did you think was happening?” She murmurs, fingers twisting. You jerk against her chest, and she huffs another soft snort of a laugh. “You have watched over our children. You accepted the offerings of fruit that I brought. When we watch you, you watch us right back.”

Those sound like pretty normal things to you, but she says them with such weight that you realise pretty quickly that there’s some meaning behind those things that you’ve missed at some point.

There’s a soft scuffling sound at the entrance of the marui pod, and you feel yourself jolt back to the present. Ronal’s hands on you remain steady and firm, which means you can’t move too much, but you still manage to twist round to see who just entered and- oh fuck.

It’s Tonowari. 

He stands in the entrance of the pod, his eyes flared wide in obvious surprise and his lips pressed firmly together. You jolt on Ronal’s lap, mortified. Oh shit – he’s just walked in on you in a rather compromising position with his wife. 

Fuck, her fingers are still inside of you, and you’re pretty sure you’re dripping all over her hand. Is he angry? Is he going to kill you?

“Ronal,” He rumbles, taking a slow step further into the pod. “We said we would take this slow.”

“She is so eager to help.” His wife says, before turning to look at you with those pretty big blue eyes. “Aren’t you?”

“I-” You choke, looking back and forth between them. What the fuck is even happening?

“She says Jakesully and his mate do not touch her,” Ronal says, her voice low and husky and rumbling in her own chest – it reverberates down through her body which in turn has you clenching tighter around her fingers. “Look at how desperate she is, my love. You would deny her this?”

Tonowari’s deep blue eyes drift over your exposed chest and belly, and down to where his wife’s hand is stuffed down your cotton panties as you straddle her leg. You’re sure it makes quite the sight – you can see the way his gaze lingers around your thighs, where they’re quivering around Ronal’s. He takes another step forward, then another.

“Come and touch.” Ronal encourages him when he gets close enough, her gaze dark and lidded. “She is soft. Softer than you would believe.”

Tonowari reaches out immediately, as though he’s a slave to his wife’s commands. His hand lands across your chest, splayed out over your sternum, and you shudder at the sheer size of it. Fuck, it spans from shoulder to shoulder and down to your tits. It should probably put you off, or at least freak you out a little, but instead you’re sure that Ronal can feel you squeezing around her hand.

He leans down so that his chest is plastered against your back, the heat of him searing against your bare skin. He’s huge, his large hand keeping you tucked carefully against the bulk of his torso as he leans in to murmur to you.

“You want this?” He asks, his breath ghosting against the shell of your ear. 

Ronal’s thumb rolls over your clit and your hips jerk, pleasure throbbing up your spine as you take a shaky breath behind your exo-mask.

“Yes.” The word practically comes out on a sob.

You can feel him grin against your throat, and then a big beefy arm is looping around your waist and you let out a startled little sound as you’re hauled into the air again. Just like before, a surprising little shock of arousal shoots through you. They manhandle you so easily, it’s difficult not to get affected by it. 

As he holds you against his chest, your legs dangling mid-air, Ronal rises from the chair she was sitting in and tugs your panties off you entirely. She tosses them carelessly to the side before taking the opportunity to assess your naked body as it’s held tight to her husband’s. She must approve, because she shoots a sharp smile over your shoulder towards Tonowari.

When Tonowari’s hand reaches down to cup your pussy, you make an odd strangled noise in your throat. Fuck, his hand is even bigger than Ronal’s – it encompasses your pussy entirely, his thick fingers rubbing curiously at the dampness that has collected between your thighs. He lets out a little rumble of surprise, the sound vibrating into your back.

“You are so wet.” He says, one of his big fingers pressing inside of you just like Ronal’s had only moments ago.

His wife makes a quiet sound of amusement, before reaching to remove her own woven chest covering and small loincloth. As distracted as you are by Tonowari’s touch, you can’t help but gape at her revealed breasts and cunt, shiny with what is unmistakably slick from her own arousal. For some reason, it takes seeing the physical signs of Ronal’s arousal for you to realise that this is real, this is actually happening. 

Ronal steps forward, and takes your chin between her thumb and index finger, holding your face firmly so that you’re looking right into her ocean-coloured eyes.

“Tonowari will fuck you,” She says, and you have to fight with everything you have not to moan at the words alone. “Like I said, he is a generous mate. We will make sure you are cared for.”

“Oh, fuck.” You say, like an absolute moron.

Ronal just grins, sharp-toothed and a little bit vicious, before sinking down to the floor. Tonowari follows her as if it’s some unspoken signal. Ronal lays back, her body reclined across the pretty woven rug that covers the spongey, bouncy floor of the marui. When her legs spread, your eyes are drawn to her pussy, blue and glistening between her thighs. You’ve never seen Na’vi anatomy up close and personal like this, and you find yourself cursing your need to breathe through your exo-mask with everything you have. You think you’d give anything to get your mouth on her right now – you’d bet she tastes just like the ocean.

Tonowari settles on the floor in front of her, then pushes you gently onto your hands and knees right in the middle of them. You’re trapped between Ronal’s legs, and you look up at her with wide eyes as Tonowari shifts behind you. She’s watching everything so closely, her eyes following her husband’s every move as he pulls your hips up, causing you back to arch as you’re forced to your elbows.

It takes a moment for you to realise that Tonowari is waiting for Ronal’s guidance, and you look up at her pleadingly. You don’t even know what you want, but you know that if someone doesn’t touch you somehow, you’re going to self-combust.

Under her stern veneer, you can see what is unmistakably amusement lurking in her pretty eyes. She nods at Tonowari; it must be some sort of signal that you don’t understand, because the next thing you know there’s an overwhelming, searing wet heat being pressed up against your cunt.

You almost squeal in shock, and it takes an embarrassingly long moment for you to realise that it’s Tonowari’s mouth that’s been pressed against you.

Truthfully, there’s a pretty big chunk of your brain that can’t believe this is happening. You’re on your elbows and knees with your ass in the air as the chief of the clan kneels behind you and suctions his mouth to your cunt, right there in the cradle of his pregnant wife’s thighs. You wonder if you’ve just lost your mind and are maybe hallucinating. They’re two of the hottest people you’ve ever seen in your life, and you’ve somehow ended up in an alien threesome with them? You don’t even know how this could have happened.

When his tongue starts to prod at your clit, your whole body jerks in surprise. His tongue is rougher than you had expected, textured like a cat’s, and it feels startlingly good as it rasps over your clit. Your hips twitch and chase after his touch, but he keeps you firmly in place with his grip on your hipbones.

“Oh god.” You whimper, head swimming. Without even really knowing what you’re asking for, you whisper, “Please.”

Ronal has reached a hand down to toy with herself, and she watches your expressions eagerly. Occasionally she will look back at Tonowari, as if she’s assessing his performance.

“Suck on her.” Ronal intones. She sounds perfectly neutral – if you couldn’t see the slick coating her fingers as she rubs at herself, you might think she was entirely unaffected by this whole thing.

Tonowari takes direction like an absolute champion, which isn’t something you expected from the Olo’eyktan. On his wife’s orders, he licks and sucks at your clit so eagerly that your back bows and you let out a genuine, overwhelmed sob. Your hips twitch away from him and then back into his mouth by turns, unsure of what you actually want. It’s overwhelming, but it feels impossibly good.

You’re already so keyed up from your earlier grinding on Ronal’s thigh and then her subsequent fingering, so it’s not a surprise at all to feel that familiar coil of heat beginning to build in your lower belly. Maybe it’s down to the situation, but you swear it’s building faster than any orgasm you’ve ever had.

Tonowari’s big, flat tongue rasps over your clit once more, and the coil snaps. You whine pathetically, gasping as your hips hump back against his face as you come, burying your face into your arms. Ronal isn’t having any of that though, and you feel her fingers wind into your hair before she pulls your head right back up – it seems she just wants to watch your face slacken and jaw hang open stupidly as you’re rocked by your orgasm.

As soon as Tonowari realises that you’re coming, his tongue begins to move faster. He laps frantically at you, drawing your orgasm out until you’re gasping and swearing and twitching against his face. 

You’ve practically gone cross-eyed by the time your orgasm has shuddered its way through you, and Ronal begins to pet at the side of your head. 

“Good,” She says, humming in approval. “You are relaxed?”

“Yes.” You mumble, but it comes out winded and stupid-sounding.

Ronal nods, clearly pleased. “You are ready for him, then.”

Yes, you think, toes curling in anticipation. Oh god, yes. You’re definitely ready for him – you’re so horny, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so desperately empty in your whole life. You’re clenching around nothing right now; the thought of having someone fill you up sends a tingle of anticipation racing through you.

You’re still a little spaced out right now after your first orgasm, so you don’t notice when Ronal disappears for just a moment only to reappear with a little wooden jar filled with something. It’s only when you feel liquid being dribbled over your pussy that you raise your head, squinting.

“It’s oil,” Tonowari says from behind you. “To help with the stretch.”

It’s the first thing he’s said in a while, and his voice is rough and husky and makes your toes curl. God, he sounds so good. Is he breathless from eating you out, or is it from the anticipation of what’s to come? You wish you could see him properly, but being spread out with your ass in the air for him is a pretty exciting position, too.

Ronal repositions herself in front of you once more. It seems like she’s trying to get the best angle for watching, and she ends up pulling you a little bit further up so that you’re leaning against one of her thighs for support. 

The tip of Tonowari’s cock presses against you, far slicker than you had expected, and you feel your mouth drop open. Shit. You can’t see it, but it feels fucking huge. You had known on some level that it would be, of course. Tonowari himself is enormous, it only makes sense that his cock is proportional.

Your eyes flick up to Ronal’s, a little panicked. “Will it fit?”

She grins; an intimidating baring of her sharp teeth. “Yes, little thing. It will fit.”

Tonowari starts to press in, and your brain blanks out at the sensation of the slow, wet slide of him stretching you open.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You chant, breathing heavily. 

The pressure of the stretch is intense, stinging a little despite the copious oil and fingering. He takes it slow, rocking into you in little increments as you clutch onto Ronal’s thigh like your life depends on it. She just hums, watching with avid interest as your mouth falls open and your eyes widen with every little twitch of Tonowari’s hips.

You’ve never been stretched so full before, and he’s not even fully seated inside you yet. You wonder if you’ll feel the ache of this for the rest of your life.

With one last little rock, Tonowari is seated as far inside you as he’s going to go. You have no idea if he’s all the way in, but you swear that you’re drooling inside your exo-mask as you struggle to take what you’re given. 

Tonowari grunts. You’re sure that you’re squeezing him like a vice, despite all the stretching they’ve done, and his big hands flex where they’re holding your hips. You can practically feel the effort he’s currently exerting to restrain himself, to wait until you adjust to his girth.

“How does she feel?” Ronal wonders. Your face is buried in the softness of her thigh, and when you roll your head to the side you’re greeted with the sight of her rolling her clit between her fingers as she bites her lip.

The sight causes your pussy to flutter a little, and Tonowari swears softly as he drops his head down to rest across your shoulder.

“Tight.” He grits out, an odd sort of noise torn out of his chest right alongside the word. It takes a moment for you to realise that it’s an odd sort of purring.

“Fuck!” You cry out, his rumbling vibrating right through your body. 

You’re shuddering around him, your hands flailing desperately around – you don’t know what you’re even looking for, whether it’s stability or comfort that you’re looking for, but you end up finding both. One of your hands is clasped by Tonowari’s enormous paw of a hand, pinning it against the floor (while being so careful not to crush you) as he hunches over you, and your other hand is taken by Ronal’s and held tight by her leg as she rubs at herself with her free hand.

"Breathe, sweet little thing." Tonowari rumbles in your ear.His voice is low and raspy, which makes you tighten up around him mindlessly. The bastard sounds amused. "You're taking it so well."

It takes more effort than you might think to follow that order. Your breath comes in shuddering gasps inside your exo-mask, sticking in your chest everytime he pulls out, dragging along the slick flesh inside you and setting your nerves alight as he presses inside of you inch by excruciating inch.

“Careful.” Ronal bites out, squeezing lightly at the hand she’s holding against thigh as she touches herself.

Tonowari just groans in acknowledgement as he humps into the slippery heat of your pussy. “Talk to me, little one,” He grunts into your ear, pulling you back against him. “Let me hear you.”

“I’m good,” You wheeze, burying your face into Ronal’s thigh. “I’m so good.”

That makes him laugh, throaty and deep as it rumbles against your back. He leans forward so that the entire long line of his torso is pressed against your sweaty naked back, the sheer size of him absolutely dwarfing you. He’s hot against you, the thick length of him inside setting your nerves alight and filling you more than anything you’ve ever experienced.

When he pulls out and ruts into you properly, it nearly drives the breath right out your lungs. He pulls out again, carefully, and then in again. 

"Fuck!" You gasp again, squirming a little as he starts up at a steady pace.

Ronal snickers, reaching out to brush some of your sweaty hair off your face. “You see? I told you that you would be cared for. It feels good?”

“It-” You begin, but then Tonowari presses in and the force of it pushes you further up Ronal’s leg, your sensitive breasts dragging along her smooth skin. You wheeze, and try again. “Yes, it feels.. I feel-”

"You do feel good," Tonorwari murmurs into the side of your throat before biting at it, his teeth scraping lightly against your soft skin, "So tight around me. Oh, yes, that's it."

Each thrust pushes you further up Ronal’s thigh, clutching at both her and Tonowari’s hands as though they’re your lifelines as you’re rocked back and forth by turns, like waves on an ocean.

The burning stretch has melted into a hot, liquid sensation that begins pooling in your stomach as you push back to meet his hips the best that you can. It feels so good, and you smile dazedly up at Ronal as you tighten up around Tonowari’s cock; he makes a soft sound of pleasure and wraps his arm firmly around your stomach to keep you close to him.

“Oh,” Ronal coos, cupping your face with one hand, right under your exo-mask. Her voice itself is a little condescending, a little mean, but her touch is so gentle. “Look at that smile. Such a happy girl.”

Goddamn, you should probably be a little annoyed at being on the receiving end of that tone, but to your surprise you find yourself shivering pathetically under her stare. 

You just feel so full, and Tonowari’s thrusts keep pressing up unrelentingly against that one squishy spot inside of you that makes your legs go completely weak. If not for Ronal’s thigh beneath your chest and Tonowari’s hands holding you up by your hips, you think you would have collapsed in a puddle on the spongey marui floor.

Tonowari’s hips are rolling into yours at such a rapid yet effortless pace that your breath is catching in your chest and your eyes are rolling wildly. When Ronal slips a hand under your belly to start playing with your clit, you make a soft, broken-sounding moan and throw your head back eagerly.

You can feel his heavy balls slap against your clit with every thrust, and you don't miss the way they begin to tighten and draw up as his thrusts get faster. He adjusts his angle just slightly, but it's enough to have you dropping bonelessly against Ronal’s thigh as you moan.

"Fuck, there, don't stop!" You gasp, the words coming out on a wheeze. You sound as desperate as you feel, all fucked out and stupid.

You’re met with soft chuckles from the mated couple above you, as though they find it absolutely adorable that you’re making demands.

“We’re not going to stop, little sky demon,” Ronal snickers as Tonowari presses a sloppy kiss between your shoulderblades. “Go ahead and let go.”

The combination of his cock rubbing and grinding against the soft spongey part inside of you and the messy stimulation of your clit has your legs trembling and heat growing rapidly in your belly. It feels like you’re being strung tighter and tighter as your orgasm draws closer, and your breath begins coming in rapid pants.

You just manage to get out the words "Oh, yes-!" before the pleasure growing in your belly crests and your back bows as you start to cum. It feels like the most cathartic orgasm ever, like all of the pressure that's been building up in your body is set free with the sweetest release, made all the sweeter by the fact that Tonowari keeps rocking into you the whole way through, the heavy head of his cock grinding hard against your G-spot the whole time.

Ronal makes a sound of deep satisfaction – she has abandoned the rubbing at her own clit in favour of leaning down to press a little kiss to the side of your head. It’s such a soft gesture, so far from what you would have expected from her given her usual stern demeanour.

Tonowari hisses so violently that it almost startles you – you’re guessing that you must be clenching hard around him. Perhaps that’s what sends him over the edge. The purr he lets out is more reminiscent of the roar of a chainsaw than anything else, and you feel the slick gush of his cum inside you as he chokes out a moan.

Tonowari continues to fuck you through his own orgasm until you turn into an oversensitive, whimpering mess. Finally, finally, what seems like the longest and most drawn out orgasm of your entire life begins to peter out. Your chest heaves and your lungs burn as you try to get your breath back, and you wonder absently if the way your heart is thrumming so desperately in your chest is cause for concern.  You feel like you’re moments away from a  heart attack. Your hips ache and your muscles burn, and your brain  feels as though it's been liquefied. 

You still feel as though you’re mentally miles away when Tonowari gently pulls out of you, before gripping your hips and flipping you around so that you’re on your back. For a long moment, all you can do is stare at the top of the marui as your chest heaves. There’s not a single thought in your damn head – it’s like there’s been a damn factory reset done on your brain.

It could be moments or hours that you lay there; you lose track of time. But soon hands come to lift you, and you allow your head to fall limply against the chest of whoever’s picked you up. Your eyes are still closed, but you feel yourself being carried and laid down somewhere. Hands are still petting you like you’re a damn cat, but you don’t bat them away – it’s nice, in a way. You feel cared for.

When you finally blink your eyes back open, dazed and exhausted, you find yourself almost face to face with Ronal. She’s peering closely at you, a little crease between her brow that smooths out when you open your eyes.

“Ah, you are awake.” She notes. “Sky demons have poor stamina.”

Her head is cushioned against a big blue shoulder, which causes you to look down at the big blue chest you’re laying across. It seems as though they had relocated all three of you to one of the big hammocks at the back of the marui. You’ve been draped across Tonowari’s big broad torso, and Ronal is tucked right up against his side with her hand resting across the small of your back.

“Go easy on her,” Tonowari chuckles, nuzzling at his wife’s temple. “We will work on her stamina.”

Your heart does a funny little leap in your chest, your once still mind leaping into overdrive.

“Oh, shit,” You breathe, wide-eyed. “I can’t believe that just happened.” A single thought pauses your descent into pure delirium, and you raise your head from Tonowari’s chest and squint at Ronal. “Wait, did you get to come-?”

“Yes,” she says simply. “While you were dozing.”

“Oh.” You say. You’re partly relieved that she was satisfied, but you’re mostly disappointed with the fact that you missed it.

Her smile grows sharper as she notices your reaction. “Next time,” She whispers to you. “You will watch.”

Your cheeks heat and you clear your throat as you grow flustered. Oh god, next time. They wanted to do this with you again. Holy shit.

“We will collect your things from Jakesully later,” Tonowari says, before moving to nuzzle at your temple. “For now, rest.”

“My things?” You repeat, blinking dazedly. “But- I’m staying with them to help Kiri.”

“Kiri is fine.” Ronal grumbles, her fingers moving in concentric patterns across the bare skin of your back. “You may check on her in the mornings and evenings. You do not need to stay in their marui.”

Maybe if you didn’t feel as though your brain had been literally fried from the way they had fucked you, you might have been better able to gather your thoughts. As it is, you do as Tonowari had suggested and rest as you flop bonelessly against his chest.

“Moving in together is a big step.” You mumble. You’re trying to make a joke, but you’re so tired that your tone mustn’t match. As it is, it seems to fall flat.

“Yes,” Ronal acknowledges, her fingers kneading at a knot in your lower back. You swear your eyes nearly roll back at the sensation. “Big step. We have discussed it much and watched you often. We will see how it goes.”

For all her ribbing at you about your stamina, she sounds sleepy herself. The severeness of her features have softened, and her stroking at your back turns lazy. Beneath you, pressed tight to your naked chest, Tonowari is still purring. It sends soothing little reverberations down your spine, encouraging you to relax into his big body. His own handsome face has slackened a little in obvious satisfaction, though he sends you a soft little smile when he sees you looking up at him.

We’ll see how it goes, you think to yourself as your eyes drift closed in the embrace of the two enormous aliens holding you. That sounds good.

[bluefox-13]

Aesop Sharp X Reader

Requested by the lovely @soul4death

"Professor Sharp x reader where the reader is hurt somehow and he makes her feel better? Maybe a kiss at some point?"

There's nothing good in Aesop's eyes as he takes in your appearance. You're dirty, tracking mud into his classroom and if it wasn't for the way you're cradling your arm against your chest he would have told you how simple it was to cast "Scourgify' on oneself. He will deal with it later, right now he's more worried about you.

"How many times have I told you to be careful?" He says, his voice tethering on the edge of being annoyed, as he stands and makes his way over to you.

"Far too many," you say, trying to be funny, but it comes out pained, the ache in your ribs far worse than your broken wrist. "In my defense," you let out a tiny little yelp as his fingers grip your elbow, softly pulling your arm to his, his fingertips gently holding up your wrist.

"I'm not in the mood to hear excuses, is it just your wrist you've broken?" Aesop says, watching as your eyes start to water when he prods at your swollen skin. He wants to be mad at you, wants to call you a fool but he can't bring himself to tear you down anymore, not when you've come to him for help.

"I think I've bruised a few ribs? I landed on my side rather bad. There's some swelling in my knee too, but it doesn't hurt to move it."

"Merlin, what did you do? Throw yourself off a cliff?" Aesop says, amazed that you've managed to hurt yourself so badly. "Sit down, I'll need to brew a bone melding potion, this is too much to fix with a Wiggenweld potion."

"Broom broke actually." you say, letting him lead you to his very comfortable and plush chair. "Snapped right down the middle while I was collecting some plants off the side of the mountain." It really hurt to bend over but you tried your hardest not to show it. Your body ached, your lungs burned, and you felt a terrible headache coming on. "That will be the last time I use a school broom."

Aesop lets out a noise, something between a chuckle and a harrumph, as he lets go of you, placing your arm on his desk. "When we're done here we'll go visit Black, see if we can convince him to replace those ancient brooms before we end up losing a student."

"Doubt he'll care." you say, watching as he walks over to his supply closet. " 'Pick a better broom' he'll say, as if they aren't all the very same ones." you mock the Headmaster, knowing how he was with having to actually care about the school, the students.

"Wonderful impression of him, now sit tight, I'll be right back to ease the pain after I gather these ingredients."

You nodded and watched him disappear into the room. "Would it be too much to ask for a headache cure as well?" you say feeling the pain intensify.

"Yes." He says loud enough that you can hear him from across the room. "Should have gone to the Medical Wing if you wanted to start making demands." Aesop re-emerges from the closet, carrying a small mortar and pestle, a few vials, and some dried herbs, a few other ingredients floated behind him. "But lucky for you, I happen to have just the thing for headaches." He begins crushing the herbs, combining them with a few drops of a clear liquid, and then handing you the small glass vial. "Drink this, it should ease the pain within a few minutes."

You take the vial, thanking him as you sniff it first and down the contents in one swift motion. The liquid is bitter and you grimace, but almost immediately you feel the pain in your head start to lessen. "Where would I be without you, Aesop?"

"Would you care to hear my theories?" He says, humor in his voice. He points his wand at his personal Potion station and you watch as it comes alive, fire licking at the bottom of the cauldron. You watch as he rolls his sleeves up, as he crushes scarab beetles and dried geranium fangs, as he pours a jar full of Picked Puffer Fish, and sprinkles a handful of Chomping cabbage leaves into the bubbling cauldron. While its always extremely entertaining to watch him work, you can feel your stomach twist at the ingredients, at the awful smell that permeates the room.

"Please tell me I don't have to drink that." you say, horrified.

"I'm afraid so." He responds, stirring the potion counterclockwise two and a half times. "It's utterly foul, but will heal you in a matter of hours."

"It smells like rotten eggs and vinegar." you say, scrunching your nose.

"Ah, you have a good sense of smell." He says with a chuckle. "But it's a small price to pay for a healed arm, don't you think?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Either you drink it on your own free will or I'll force it down your throat." Aesop says, turning to face you with a serious look.

"How nice of you, bullying an injured person."

He smiles at you, as if he's not above using force to get what he wants, but there's a warmth in his eyes that makes you think he's not entirely serious. "Trust me, if I wanted to force you to do something, I wouldn't need a potion to do it."

You raise an eyebrow, not quite sure if he's joking or not. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

Aesop laughs. "Neither. Just a statement of fact. But in all seriousness, I only want what's best for you."

You purse your lips, watching as he scoops up an entire ladle full of the gross yellow potion into a glass jar. "Are you sure this is the only thing that will help?"

He makes his way over to you and hands you the glass. You slowly reach for it with your none broken hand. "Oh, I thought it'd be hot."

"The glass is charmed, trust me when I say its a million times better to drink it cold." He says, watching as you hold it out with a look of disgust. "Come on now." he says, tipping an imaginary glass to his lips "Drink it."

You take a deep breath and reluctantly bring the glass to your lips. The smell is overwhelming and you can feel your stomach churning in protest. "You know what," you say, holding the glass far away from you before you vomit. "I think I'll take my chances with the Matron."

Aesop lets out a small 'tsk' as he moves closer to you. "Don't be difficult. Drink it."

"I'm going to vomit all over your floors."

"For Merlin's sake." He says, frowning at you. "Just drink it quickly and be done with it. It's not going to kill you."

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes, and drink the potion in one swift gulp. The taste is even worse than the smell, and you feel like gagging immediately. You force yourself to swallow it and hand the glass back to Aesop with a look of disgust.

He takes the glass from you and sets it down on his desk, giving you a pat on the back. "There, now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

You shake your head, still trying to get the taste out of your mouth. "No, it was worse."

He chuckles and pulls out a single wrapped butterscotch from his coat pocket. "Here you go, for being such a good girl and drinking all your medicine."

You know that he's teasing you but you take it anyways and scoff. "Sometimes you can be a real jerk, you know that?" you use your teeth to unwrap the candy and pop it into your mouth.

He grins, unfazed by your comment. "What an uncivilized way to say thank you."

You roll your eyes and fight the urge to stick your tongue out. "Thanks for fixing me up." you say after a moment of silence. The candy is doing a great job of getting rid of the awful taste of the potion, but you wont give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

As you speak, Aesop leans in, his eyes flickering down to your lips for a brief moment. Suddenly, he closes the distance between you and presses his lips to yours, stealing the butterscotch from your mouth in the process. You're surprised at first but then melt into the kiss, the taste of the candy mixing with his own sweet flavor. When he pulls away, he smirks at you.

"I think I'll keep that as payment for my services," he says, going back to his work.

You feel the warmth on your cheeks as you lick your lips. "You can be so smooth when you want to be," you say, unable to hide the grin on your face.

Aesop chuckles. "I aim to please," he says.

"Mind doing it again?" you ask, smiling at him "I've heard nothing heals a broken bone better than a kiss."

Aesop raises an eyebrow at your request, but doesn't hesitate to lean in again. This time, the kiss is deeper and more intense, and you can feel your heart rate increasing as he pulls you closer to him. The taste of butterscotch is still present, but it's mixed with something else, something that makes your head spin and your stomach flutter.

When he pulls away, you're both breathing heavily. Aesop's eyes meet yours, and you can see a hint of something in them that you can't quite place. "Is that better?" he asks, his voice slightly husky.

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. "Almost" you say, feeling a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Almost?" Aesop asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Yeah," you say, tugging at his coat so he'll move closer. "I think we should try that again, just to be sure."

Aesop grins, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "As you wish," he says before pulling you in for another kiss.

[bluefox-13]

Hiiii!!

So i read your other yandere stories, and i love them, so I was wondering if you could write some yandere ronal/tonowari x reader, were reader is being forced to be there, but tries to make an escape. I just wanna see how that would end. But also I just don't feel like there's enough of those two on the internet.

But only if you want to ofcourse and if you have time. And I'm sorry if my English isn't perfect. :)

I always enjoy writing for Tonowari and Ronal (especially for Tonowari, that man hits right in my daddy issues). Also, thank you!

Not strong enough (Yandere! Tonowari x Fem! reader x Yandere! Ronal)

Content warnings: English isn’t my first language, this hasn’t been proofread yet.

General warnings: yandere behavior, yandere! Ronal, yandere! Tonowari, Tonowari and Ronal do hurt the reader,

[ Y/n’s POV ]

I felt pain go though my leg and up my body. I hadn’t gone that far, I could still see the village. But the ilu that bit my leg looked at me pretty consciously. I didn’t know they could do that.

I could see my own blood stain the transparent waters of the sea. “Y/n!” I heard Ronal’s voice holler my name. She was mad. Really mad.

I was stupid enough to underestimate their control over me. The ilu that caught me called to her. She was coming towards me. She didn’t look too pleased.

She grabbed me by my braid and lunged me over her ilu. “Dumb girl” her voice vibrated through her. “You can’t escape us, baby”.

She caressed my face. “Are you going to try again?” She asked, her smile softening. I didn’t respond, I started shaking. “Respond!” She demanded. Her grip tightened.

“I won’t try again!” I said, scared. She smiled and kissed my forehead. We reached the sore. Tonowari waited for us there. Ronal was angry and she tugged me along.

Tonowari hugged me. “My love, don’t try to escape again okay?” He said, his voice soft and his eyes watering. “I thought we would loose you. I love you so much I couldn’t bear it if you escapes”. He kissed my forehead and the crown of my head. “I know sometimes Ronal is a little bit rough, but I know you can get over it”.

I looked dumbfounded. He sounded scared “maybe I am the problem” he said, looking at my eyes. “Am I too clingy? Maybe I am suffocating you?” He started crying.

“No, no, there is no problem” I responded, trying to calm him down. Once he stopped crying I hugged him and followed Ronal into our shared marui. I didn’t see the growing smirk on Tonowari’s lips.

[bluefox-13]

#drawing

[bluefox-13]

#drawing

[bluefox-13]

If Y/N had a playlist

Okay, I've seen people make playlists for the RE8 characters, but I wanted to make one for our stupid ass Y/N. Now, all of the songs on here I love, but this is more about what I think Y/N would be into. Let's get into it!

Shimmy - System of a Down

I don't know, something about Serj Tankian singing "Shimmy shimmy shimmy through the break of dawn" in the middle of a Nu Metal song is just peak Y/N energy.

Stacy's Mom - Bowling for Soup

Y/N loves hot moms. That's about it.

Why Does it Hurt When I Pee? - Frank Zappa

A rock song about getting STDs from a toilet. Y/N would love this song, I'm convinced.

Don't Stop Me Now - Queen

Y/N aspires to reach the level of raw sexual energy that Freddie exudes... They'll never get there, but they can dream.

Pickin' Boogers - Biz Markie

Just a song about picking boogers. It's funny. My dad actually introduced me to this song. He said he heard it with a bunch of his Marine Corps buddies when he was in Bahrain and thought it was fucking genius. He's not wrong and Y/N would approve...

Highlander (The One) - Lost Horizon

Lost Horizon is an insane Swedish prog metal band. Highlander is the song with that incredibly iconic metal scream you hear in memes and stuff. Y/N would immediately challenge the Dimi sisters to a duel (and lose) after hearing this.

Blame it on the Juice - Lizzo

I just think Y/N would go crazy at parties and start screeching this song when they get drunk... Also, Lizzo's hot and they love her. (Bruh, imagine it. Lizzo. Cosplaying. As. Alcina... I think my heart just stopped T^T)

Beautiful Girls - Van Halen

Y/N listens to this song because it's about being surrounded by beautiful girls... Y/N lives in a village completely overrun with hot women. Y/N's a lucky bitch.

Superman - Goldfinger

Y/N listens to Ska. You really shouldn't be surprised. Plus, this song is forever burned into your entire brain if you played THPS 1.

[bluefox-13]

“Please don’t leave me”

The Grabber x Reader

A/N: and the grabber was too stunned to speak✨ I loved writing this and trying to figure out his character hahah, also if you catch my little pun, you’re amazing. I wrote “sh shh”s, at one point in the fic, and it’s mean to be like he’s saying “shh” multiple times without writing out every time he says it, sorry if it look weird lmao.

Warnings: kidnapping(obvi), Stockholm syndrome, abandonment issues/fear of being alone, he calls you “little thing” so objectification? Anxiety and nightmares mentioned

Fandom: The Black Phone

Unedited

Dark, cold, and lonely. This is what you knew now. The basement was dingy and dirty. You wish there was sometimes to do other than stare at the walls. It was so boring and so so lonely.

You hated being alone. Hated when people would leave you. Your anxiety would sky rocket and this was no difference. Honestly, you couldn’t tell if your anxiety was worse or better when he was in the room.

It was nice having someone else there, to hear someone’s voice. To talk to someone. Even if it was him. You shouldn’t feel this way. You knew that. Yet, here you were, hoping for the lock of the door to click open and see his silhouette in the door way.

Thoughts began consuming you. What if he just stopped visiting? What would you do? How would you live?

Your breathing quickened, and your eyes began to sting. You gently laid yourself back onto the bare mattress and bit your thumb. You couldn’t hold in your tears.

You awoke to a click. Your eyes shot open and you slowly turned to the door. Slowly the door opened creaking the whole way. You could make out the outline of the man before you.

A part of you felt some relief. You couldn’t help the soft smile that crept its way to your face. He came back. You felt disgusted. Why were you glad he was here? As hard you tried you couldn’t understand it.

“Hello little bird,” his voice was light and airy. He’s a good mood. You had to be careful to not make him angry. “Are you hungry?”

You opened your mouth to speak but no sounds came out. You shut your mouth and looked to the floor lightly nodding.

You dared not look up as you heard his feet, step step step, until they stopped right in front of you.

A tray came into your vision. A bottle of soda and a plate of eggs. What he always fed you. A small clack spread throughout the room as he set the tray down.

For a moment everything was silent. You closed your eyes, imagining a world where you woke up from this nightmare. Your fantasy smelled just like eggs. Someone was making eggs at your stove, their back turned to you. Your fantasy slowly fell apart as the figure turned, that sinister smiling mask met your eyes.

Your eyes shot open as you were suddenly brought back to reality. “What’s wrong, little Dove?” A voice filled with concern. “Do you not like what I’ve made for you?” His voice grew deeper.

You looked up at him, smiling. “Thank you.”

“For what?” His voice was soft once again, gentle. He knew he could break you if he wanted. Was that he was so gentle sometimes?

“Thank you, for-for always taking care of me.” Your voice grew quieter as you talked. Did you just... thank a kidnapper for taking care of you?

He chuckled and his hand found its way to your head. He carefully began to pet you. Head tilted, he said, “Such a special little thing.... you’ve lasted much longer than the rest.”

The feeling of his warm hand contrasted with your now cold blood. You wouldn’t say anything, couldn’t. “Hmph.” He grunted and pulled his hand away from you.

Your eyes widened as he walked away towards the open door. “Wait!” You screamed without thinking.

He stopped and turned to you, waiting for you to say something. You only collapsed over yourself. “Please-, please don’t leave” hiccup “me...” You choked out between sobs.

The only sound were your poorly muffled sobs. Eventually though, you weren’t sure when, a hand found it’s way to your head again.

His other hand wrapped around your shoulders and pulled back up to be sitting. You then fell into him, melting into his warm body. Your weak hands clung to his button up shirt. Your body was wracked with sobs.

He held you so so carefully. One hand rubbing your back while the pet your head. He rocked you back and forth so gently. His soft “sh shh”s, muffled by the sound of your wails.

He stayed with you, the whole time you cried. Minutes? Hours? You weren’t sure. All the while he softly cradled you in his arms.

————the end————-

Bonus cause I meant to stop but didn’t :)

You finally calmed. “My little dove, what’s made you cry?” His voice was soft and quiet, more so than usual. He was so caring... was he really so bad?

“I- I don’t know...” you said almost instinctively.

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice went deep. No, threatening.

Your fist gripped his shirt tighter, “I’m, I’m sorry, I just- I... I hate being alone...” your soft voice trailed off and you sniffled. He smelled nice. Comforting.

“Hmm, I’m afraid I must leave,” he pulled away from you. “But I promise I’ll come back. I always will.”

You let your hands slide off his chest as he stood up. He straightened his shirt and began walking to the door. You couldn’t help your small cries. It was so lonely. Why did he have to go?

Just before latching the door he turned to you. “Don’t cry, dove, I always keep my promises.”

With that he shut the door. The room was dark and cold again. You hugged yourself hoping for some semblance of his hug. Backing up against the wall, you curled into a ball and sobbed.

“Please come back...”

——-the actual end this time——-

[bluefox-13]

Tilda van der Meer

[bluefox-13]

My drawings. I am a Ferrari fan 😁🇮🇹🏎️

#mattia binotto

[bluefox-13]

Blessed, Damned Domesticity - An Alcina x Maiden Preview

Those who follow me might have noticed I have been essentially documenting the grueling process that is starting a new story. This little Fantasy AU - which draws inspiration from The Witcher, Dungeons & Dragons, and a hundred other works in the genre, and is written in the style of the love letters seen in Novitiate - is still a long, long way from a complete first draft, but I thought I could share a rough snippet to compensate for my whining keep up my motivation.

So, here it is - tales of glory and destiny as told by Lady Dimitrescu, the feared Vermillion Maiden herself.

Warning: Mature (18+) themes. Minors should skip this one.

...

“I understand that beggars cannot be choosers, but… Here, Alcina? Out of all places in this damned continent?”

You place your voice between a whisper and a growl.

It is obvious that a part of you wishes to spin this as nothing but my own fault, so that at the very least there would be someone for you to blame and, most importantly, to punish for our ungrateful circumstances. It is childish.

And yet here I am, doing the exact same thing to you.

“Yes, here”, I answer, happy enough to allow my impatience to bleed through my words. “Unless you would prefer that we continue our journey on foot, two horses in tow, for upwards of three days until the next town. While it is pouring.”

Past the cobbled path and the ground softened by the rain, we make it to about a meter or so from the front entrance of the tavern; though I could not tell you whether I was the one who lead us there as we silently argued, or if this was your doing despite the intent behind the words you have been saying.

Around us echoes the sound of clattering as we walk – my sword, the dagger strapped to my hip, the small diamonds of your earrings, and the hinges of the door to the cage. The two birds inside also make their displeasure at the situation known by cawing out of synchrony.

“Ha!”, comes your sarcastic laugh. I have witnessed it surprise guests before, those who mistakenly assumed that, because of the daintiness of your posture and the way you allow my hand to remain upon the small of your back, you are incapable of cruelty.

But you are, same as your laugh, quite taken to it.

“Very funny. You could have been a jester.”

I turn to you, then, because the time I have spent perfecting the art of socialization with the lesser breeds has never quite managed to teach me how to conceal my instinctual reaction to insults. A baring of teeth, flaring of nostrils, narrowing of the pupils. There has long been an understanding between us – that to purposefully attempt to drive a reaction out of the other means accepting the consequences of said decision. Consequently I seethe, nails digging into my own palms through the thick leather of my gloves, something between a curse of my own and a tired proclamation that I am not the miracle-worker you enjoy painting myself to be resting at the tip of my tongue. Yet the anger fades when you abandon the cage to the floor and instead place both your hands upon my plated shoulders.

There is something to be said about the way you undo me.

You bring yourself to me, so that the fine silks of your robes press against the treated leather of my chest-plate when I suck in the air sharply through my mouth, trying to organize my thoughts. You. The birds. The trail of slaughtered mortals we left behind. The inn right in front of us, from which the sound of brawling chatter, clinking pints, and cheap musicians penetrate past the stone walls. Cheap and unpleasant, their songs. Your thumbs come to my cheeks, nonetheless, and you wipe away the raindrops that keep pouring down on us. Thunder cracks a ways beyond, but whereas your tone was unrelenting but a few seconds ago, now you offer me genuine interest. That is something only you can do, my dear – notice that I have started to spiral towards the beast that lurks within.

“No, I meant… Can’t we fly?”

You ask me with so much sweetness, so much hope, I allow myself to laugh at our temporary misery and wrap my arms around you. We could dance to these peasants’ poor excuse of a rhythm as we now are, if you wished.

“Do not tempt me like that. The cold is making me lose my wits.”

Temperate-blooded as I am, my body does not offer you the warmth that you crave amidst spring’s tempests, but this does not stop you from nuzzling fully into my hold; you drape your arms and flowing sleeves over my shoulders, place your cheek against my collarbone, and with the weight of your soul on the tips of your toes, your gelid nose meets the skin of my neck, right above the high neckline of my undershirt. There is no hesitation as you let your frame rest upon mine, and the way we both sigh at the gesture makes it obvious that we need rest most desperately.

When you speak, I feel your lips moving on my skin. Your syllables dip into mumbles when I begin to rub circles upon your back.

“I could cast an invisibility spell and then you’d take us all the way to Lester. From there we can safely portal – we’d be home by the end of the afternoon.”

And it is painful, how much I wish to agree. I could transform right where we stand, destroying half the building and a perfectly fitted pair of boots in the process, only so that I could whisk you away back to where I can assure that we will remain showered in luxuries and free from harm. Regrettably, the sensible devil whispering to my ears makes a compelling point.

With care I tilt you by your chin, prompting our gazes to meet. I wonder if you can see what I feel of my own disguise. The faint wrinkles, I presume, made deeper by the dark undereye circles left as a courtesy by the nights we laboriously crossed while embracing on the ground, or the peeling skin of my bottom lip from the hours I spent chewing at it with my teeth. Regal stance turned slanted, with the aching back to match (an ailment I pray your whimsical hands may be kind enough to solve once we are inside this shithole and you have absolved me of my imposed faults). Eyes bloodshot due to the wind – to the point where I must take a pause to scratch at them before saying my piece.

“Maria, you are a brilliant sorceress, but an extremely poor strategist. Think about it for a moment, will you?”

I cannot help the patronizing lilt that washes over me. My saving grace is that you do not recoil at the words that follow my nickname for you, or grit your teeth, but merely hold onto me until I can hear your fingernails scratch the material of my garments. We are neither here nor there.

“That is what I have been doing for the past five hours”, you moan, letting your breath warm my lips as the rain begins to shower down with considerably more intent. I grimace at the clammy dampness of it all, while you tap into your delusions by nearly pleading, “A warm, scented bath in the hall of ablution. A fresh meal picked to suit your tastes. The chance to see our daughters, whom I know you miss so terribly, you have been agonizing over the notion that something tragic has happened while we were away.”

Long have I condemned the low plays you are willing to place so that the tides shall turn your way. This – catering to my own nesting instincts while making it seem like you are some helpless, willing damsel – is no nobler gesture to pulling my palm from where it rested by your cheek downwards to the fuller curves of your figure, to cup the flesh where the full mark of my fangs rests upon your beating heart. The thumping reverberates across my bones, leaves my fingertips tingling with the magic that blooms from you. I know this body of yours so well, I could sculpt the ever-healing dents that mar your soft skin with both my eyes closed and still perfectly capture the way my bottom dental arch left its impression along the underside of your breast, and how the two deeper punctures of my canines peek through the décolletage of anything you pick to wear, a thing done on purpose. As for the enticing bud of your nipple, caught at the center of my handiwork, I need only refer to the lingering sensation of it drawing tight between my thumb and index a thousand nights over. The scalding warmth of our chambers grants me this pleasure.

Even with the cloak between us, I can still smell my scent on your blood, rich and sharp underneath the saccharine ambrosia that is you.

And it is a weapon you use in my undoing, our bond.

“Our bed”, you enunciate in that twirling accent of yours, sure that the word alone will trigger some form of trained behavior in me. “With the down mattress and six pillows, which are so much more inviting than a patch of tall grass by the riverbend.”

Close, but not quite.

You forget that, though you may have your puppy eyes and intoxicating presence, I have a good memory of my own, as well as lips that can convincedly pout.

As I lean down to whisper to your ear, one of the rowdy patrons opens the door to the tavern and stumbles out.

It appears to be a mortal woman. A native, from the looks of the rough thread of her woolen blouse, and likely on her way home after an evening of unwinding with the help of alcohol and loosened inhibitions, if I were obliged to bet my fortunes on such an assumption. She whistles as she makes her way past us, and I believe we both realize at the same time that, to humans, this might be considered quite the compromising position. Theirs are the customs of false-instilled modesty, of artificial grace. Holy men making their prayers while kneeling between the knees of a king who pays them to fulfill that which no trained concubine seems to be able to satisfy, equally unkempt and inelegant. Alas, we are not humans, nor are our sacraments of affection matters we flinch away from when in the presence of strangers. I keep my hand where it is.

And if this peasant lass, in all her blissful ignorance, were aware of who we truly are… Then perhaps this encounter might be one she then goes on to retell to her grandchildren, with all the due adorations befit to our glorious bloodline. After all, it is not every mortal of low birth who is privileged enough to witness a moment of intimacy between a dragon and her mate, much less one as tender as our conversations so often turn out to be. Bards would be wise to commit our affections to song as soon as they are not so terribly occupied singing tales of our shared terror.

I feel tempted to ask you - what dragon shies away from flirtation?

Certainly not this one.

So do forgive me if the difficult journey and the bloodied blades I carry have made my thirst for you a little more untamed than usual. Blame my own monstrosity, If you must, while I shall place the responsibility on the pollen that clings to the air.

“But oh, my dear wife”, I call in a tone infinitely merrier than the one I presented you before, “I do recall you thoroughly appreciated what we did in the forest soil. So much so, in fact, you made us waste an entire day of travelling just to… Indulge in your fair moods.”

It was an implicit bargain to keep us from simply abandoning the mission and shouldering the Court’s wrath with a little less dignity than what we left with. A bargain I greatly enjoyed, mind you. Perhaps one I admittedly needed. Otherwise, my subconscious would not be presently clinging to the image that is you, half-dressed in that shimmering cream gown of yours, which is much too fine for you to comfortably wear anywhere but in the privacy of our quarters or the quiet solitude of a luscious clearing hidden from the merchants’ trails, lips swollen from how deeply I had kissed you and cheeks prettily painted crimson – not from the shimmering sun, though the natural light does suit your bared silhouette marvelously, but as the product of the valiant devotion you always display towards my true form. How you had wrapped your legs around me sticks in particularly vibrant colors at the forefront of my mind. The softness of your thighs, of your stomach. I cannot imagine it be an easy task, dearest, the way you compensate for our differences in physique by offering me twice the pleasure I would deem necessary to keep me perpetually at your mercy; so is our dance one of heartfelt desires, and I may only hope that ensuring that you are breathlessly uttering a chant composed of my name and the insults you are so fond of is fair enough a repayment for your caring nature (and the gown I, in the throes of my ecstasy, regrettably ruined for the foreseeable future).

The memory appears to leave a similarly sweet taste in your mouth, for you laugh and offer me an impish shrug.

“Keeping morale high is important.”

My goal is to strike a similar compromise now, you see, hence the indecency of my conversation. Not that my ability to satisfy your carnal needs was ever put into question – I do pride myself in being a generous lover, a fact I indeed do suspect you have not forgotten over this pesky dry spell our present situation has put us through – but the fragrance of the succulent fruit is more tempting than the mere mention of it. I need more than logic to convince you. And I need you to, in turn, convince myself.

Except that turning to promises of good sex is not the safe counterargument I intended it to be. You toss the building ahead of us a look of such disdain, I would not have been surprised if it had spontaneously combusted into plain flames the following second, or if lightening had struck from above to char its tiled roof into broken shards of ceramic. With a fidgeting motion you wipe the rainwater from your brow using the sleeve of your robes and, as you next speak, I cannot tell whether you intend to sound desperate in an attempt to tug at my heartstrings or if your affliction is as genuine as mine is.

“Please?”, you rasp as the corners of your lips pull enough to show your gums, “I will fulfill your most depraved whims for an entire month if you can spare me spending the night in a place that prides itself for being the only lodging, tavern, and brothel in a radius of a hundred kilometers.”

I must admit that I do flinch at the notion of what brand of patrons we may encounter inside. The hesitation must show in my expression, for you sink your claws at the opportunity to give me a knowing look.

“And do not pretend you are any happier about this situation than I am. That scowl you wear borders on hilarious.”

I sigh. Deeply. What else to do, I ask, when you make such a good point?

Good grief… I do want to go home. If not for all the material aspects I could spend an entire afternoon listing off, then for the simple luxury that would be letting my guard down for longer than a minute. That you have done your best to ward off my exhaustion does not change the fact that it is here, nested between us, chewing at my bones; startling me awake halfway through the pitiful amount of sleep I do manage to steal and leaving me to fantasize about abandoning my pride and asking for Miranda to come collect us. That, however, is a thought I pray you have not managed to listen to, frantic as it would make you.

“I asked you not to tempt me like that”, I instead say, gentle and tired and vulnerable in the way only you are allowed to witness. “Have you any notion how uncomfortable leather can feel on damp, sweaty skin? I am dying for a drink and a hairbrush.”

My eyes flicker to the sky. Flying above the clouds would be well worth the effort, in a weather like this.

Then again, the battle in Saint Buccan was held under similar unforgiving storms, and I suddenly recall how easy it was to turn the low visibility to my advantage.

“It would be an awful idea”, comes my inevitable amendment. “Rangers would spot us straight away and we would have to fight our way back to the castle.”

There is defeat in your motions as you let go of my hand.

“We would.”

“We are smarter than that”, I press, nearly apologetic.

“We are.”

A darkness crosses your features – directed not at me, nor at the establishment I quickly find myself forcing the proper lady in me to make her peace with; but rather at the two owls flapping their wings inside the cage dropped to the muddy ground. I can picture you clipping them off at the joint as you did to the songbirds our sweet Bela brought you in the previous summer. Would you allow me to add these fine specimens to my collection, troublesome as they were to obtain? Or will you opt to discard them as soon as their use is through?

You will have to give me a reply later, when we are sat by the hearth of our tower, legs entwined, and not in the chilling damp of this bloody rain.

Lifting the cage by the ornate handle, you offer me a look of quiet designation.

“But let a freezing, starving, wet-to-the-bones woman dream a little.”

“It will be our secret”, I reply whilst feeling your phantom agony upon my skin.

Yet the smile you then gift me is my own vital reassurance.

With the matter settled, I close the distance between us and press my lips to yours, taking from you a kiss that is both chaste and ravenous.

And another, gentler, to your cheek. “Come. I doubt there is an ancient dwarven bathhouse inside, but give me a warm fireplace to fight off the chill and a half-decent bed and I am sure I can work out a way to make the evening a bit more pleasant to the both of us.”

“Be as it must, my lady, for you have convinced me”, you say. I have long learnt it to be your nature to tease – I find them impossibly endearing, your teases, particularly when juxtaposed with the way you chew the inside of your cheek before looking up at me. “I do wish it didn’t take matters of life and death for us to be able to have some time alone.”

As do I.

But to say it aloud would come at the premium cost of acknowledging that the centuries we have spent in the solitude of our domain were dictated by the wills of the divine being we owe our lives to, not our own appetites, while whatever spare time not tainted by our vows frequently fell at the discretion of our lands and servants. That our idle years were never idle to begin with. Perhaps even unagreeable in nature. Truth be told, there have been days where I have caught myself wondering if I have nightly marital duties and their universal cultural weight to thank for being able to see you at all amidst the chaos of our routines.

The tangential line that sprouts from my recollections fills me with dread.

Luckily my instinct leads me to reject imperfections, so I opt for chuckling silently, dismissing the topic with a “Noblesse oblige, darling”, and finally lead us towards the inn’s entrance.

It is you who pulls my arm to rest over your shoulders, my own fur-trimmed cape shielding your petite frame from the environment, and it is not late before your own hand finds its righteous place on the small of my back, where your fingertips then go on to distractively toy with the harness of my sword. In this same pose I have walked you into hallowed halls and decrepit crypts alike, therefore it feels fitting that this is the stance we shall take as we slither past what is sure to be a cramped mess of bodies, coin, and ale so repugnantly stale, I can feel its unpleasant aftertaste on the back of my mouth already.

[bluefox-13]

INKTOBER 5 - Lady Masako, Ghost of Tsushima

My favorite GoT character, the story of Lady Masako is totally heartbreaking, from the death of her husband and children before the Mongol army and the massacre of her grandchildren, her daughters-in-law and her sister before an ambush by bandits just the same night of the Mongol invasions of Tsushima, where the only survivor of her clan was her and all she wants is revenge, in the face of the pain of losing her family.

In Masako's stories, we are helping the veteran of the Adachi clan to investigate who were the ones who planned the extermination of her clan and in turn avenge her family.

however there is a chapter of it called "A Mother's Peace" in which Masako wants to give a holy burial to his children who died in battle before the Mongol invasion and it is a chapter whenever I play it, it makes me cry and see the pain of Lady Masako .

Eme