#wise men still seek Him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neptuneiris · 9 months

Text

for the crown (02/03)

and then suddenly i cared even less, too broken to stay.

pairing: prince!aemond × lowborn!reader

summary: you gave yourself to him, you love him, he said that despite your low status at court, he will still marry you, because you are his, the woman who was his friend since childhood, until the war comes.

word count: 8.6k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

and here I am again, realizing that I can't anticipate that it will be two parts only, because if I leave it at two, the chapter will be extremely long, so there will be part 3 haha. thank you for reading, enjoy!🥰

warnings: sex content, angst, denigration, abusive behavior, possessiveness, infidelity, betrayal.

If Aemond thought he would have a perfect escape with you after he decided to take you with him to Harrenhal as well, he was wrong.

With only a few dresses, a few pairs of shoes and your night gown, you emerge from your chamber holding Aemond's hand, both of you having a firm grip on each other, ready to march to DragonPit and eventually fly to Harrenhal.

With the entire Prince Regent's army ready to listen to Sr. Criston Cole's command upon seeing Aemond's signal in the skies, your prince is interrupted in the middle of his action as he is basically stealing you away by his mother, his grandsire and also your father right at the gates to leave the Keep.

Your father watches you completely surprised, ready and willing to leave with the prince, while the Queen Dowager and Otto Hightower watch Aemond completely confused and alert.

Also both watching you basically not understanding anything.

"Aemond, what is the meaning of this?"

"What are you doing?"

His mother and grandsire instantly inquire, clearly disapproving of this madness, but Aemond couldn't care less, watching the three of them indifferently.

While you start to worry and basically hide behind him, not letting go of his hand.

"Y/N?"

Your father calls you softly, confused and uncomprehending, looking for your gaze.

But when you look back at him, he knows you've already made your choice, so he begins to get more alert and seriously worried.

"What are you doing?"

But you don't answer him, you can't.

Sorrowful, you seek more reassurance and support from Aemond, basically leaning closer to him, holding his hand a little tighter, revealing your nerves and your fear at having been discovered.

This Aemond notices instantly and stands in front of you with a determined and firm stance without letting go of your hand, facing this alone knowing that none of the three of them stand a chance against him.

"Y/N, come, please," your father pleads as he sees worried the prince's behavior, raising one of his hands in your direction.

"She will do no such thing, my Lord."

Aemond finally speaks, drawing the attention of the three of them as well as yours, watching him over his shoulder,

"Lady Y/N will come with me to Harrenhal. In fact we must leave now and this is not up for discussion," he makes it clear almost threateningly.

Your father immediately exchanges glances with the Queen, more than concerned and demanding that something be done about it, but the Queen Dowager also continues to stare at her son completely confused and as if she does not recognize him.

"Aemond, you can't do this," she tells him gently wanting to talk some sense into him.

"Have you forgotten about your betrothed? Lady Baratheon?" his grandsire inquires him seriously, "Her father is fully supporting you in this because of that betrothal. And when Lord Borros finds out you are enjoying the company of another woman he will not be very pleased and will call off his men."

"And that won't be very wise of him," he says completely disinterested, "It would be unwise for Lord Borros to no longer give me his support if he doesn't want all of Storm's End to burn."

"That's not how things work, Aemond," his mother tells him worriedly, watching him intently.

"I think that's exactly how things work, mother," he tells her in a more serious tone, "After all, I'm not breaking off the betrothal and eventually I'll have to marry his daughter or not?"

This immediately gets your attention, but right after Aemond says those words, he lightly squeezes your hand with his, as a signal.

He has told you that when the war is over, he will marry you and that he promised you. He's not meaning all this now, it's just a way for the two of you to finally leave.

"Aemond, you still can't do this, you're betrothed," she insists.

"And what about Lady Y/N?" his grandsire points out to him, "According to the news, she is also betrothed."

"I don't care. She's coming with me whether you like it or not," he says as a final word.

"My prince…"

Hour father quickly steps forward to speak, worried and almost anguished.

"I beg you not to do this, you cannot take her away, please," he begs, "Lord Hand is right, she is also betrothed. If you take her now her betrothed will not be pleased and will put her maidenhead in question. Because of this my daughter will probably not be able to find a good husband in the future."

His words and behavior makes you feel sorry for your father, as he is right. Basically Aemond will ruin you for all men by taking you away, that action already speaking for itself, as the two of you share a more intimate relationship.

What your father and his family don't know is that he has basically already ruined you by claiming your maidenhead. But of course neither Aemond nor you will say it out loud.

"Don't worry, my Lord," he tells him still disinterested, "I'm sure by the end of all this, you and I will come to a generous agreement for my indiscretion."

Still, this does not reassure your father at all.

"B-but, please my prince, you c-can't…" he begins to speak nervously, looking at you pleadingly, "You can't take her away, please. I have already come to an agreement with her betrothed, they'll be waiting for her to discuss the wedding, please—

"I've told you not to worry, Lord Y/L/N," Aemond tells him again seriously and annoyed.

"But…

"You dare to question your prince's order?"

Aemond inquires him instantly, watching him serious, threatening and expectant, while your father purses his lips into a thin line as Aemond continues to threaten him with his gaze, then looks at his mother and grandsire in the same manner.

"You are also against my own word?"

"Aemond, please," his mother pleads with him as well.

"Don't be a fool, Aemond. Enough of this nonsense," his grandsire tells him seriously, "You are making a big mistake that will cost you the battle if you lose soldiers."

"That will be my problem, not yours," he tells her in the same manner as he does, ready to resume his journey again, "Besides we are not going to lose anything and I advise you not to question me anymore, any of the three of you," he warns them.

These are the final words of Prince Aemond, the Prince Regent, the one who currently holds the crown and carries the weight of the entire Realm on his shoulders, with his other hand he takes your waist and begins to lead the two of you on your way out of the Keep.

The only thing you can feel at that moment as you walk away is the worried and anguished look on your father's face, while you feel sorry for him.

However, you don't want to marry this Lord Beesbury, you don't even know him and you know that your father blindly gave your hand in marriage.

But what you didn't expect is that you would have to walk away from your father, leaving him alone, when it has always been the two of you against the world, which is what really weighs on you and grieves you as you continue to walk away from him with no idea when you will see him again.

You also feel the stares of the Queen Dowager Alicent and Lord Otto on both of you, who probably don't even have any idea how to react to this, not even being in a position to do anything about it.

But Aemond doesn't even care about them and steadily and willingly continues his pace with you by his side, him leading you towards one of the horses that will take you both fast towards DragonPit.

Soon you both find yourselves flying towards Harrenhal, with Sr. Criston leading Aemond's entire army on the ground towards the cursed castle as well.

However… had you known what would await you later in that very place, a cursed castle where its curse never leaves and curses also the people who dare to set foot there, you would never have let Aemond take you with him.

Still, when your prince takes you with him to Harrenhal, you feel important.

You feel you are one of his complements to go on and win the war, like an incentive to gain motivation and strength.

At first, the black and dark castle scares you, knowing perfectly well its reputation and curse, but Aemond is the one who motivates you to stand by his side and help him in everything he needs.

He specifically asks you to settle in his chamber, where it will also be your room, while he once he takes over the castle, begins to plan strategies and move his entire army, alert to any threat and securing his position in Harrenhal.

You know very little about his planning because you know that his matters must be of no interest to you, so during the day, you can only find entertainment in books and learning a little more about the dark castle.

The only thing you attend to is your prince, waiting each night at the end of his exhausting days, as you can't really do much in these circumstances, only being available to him.

This fact does not bother you, but your boredom increases every day considering that you only see Aemond in the nights and very early the next day he is no longer by your side because he goes to attend to his duties.

In your loneliness, you often think about writing a letter to your father, just to let him know that you are well.

But you know that Aemond probably wouldn't be too pleased and you don't know if your father wants to hear from you after what happened.

You wouldn't be surprised if he was furious with you… after all, what you did was very unwise.

You could have stood firm with Aemond, you could have supported your father and attended to your duty properly, yet you did not.

And in the end the only thing that gives you comfort is that at least, by the end of these difficult times, you will finally marry Aemond. And by the time your father sees that, he will probably forgive you.

Today is another one of those days when Aemond has a lot on his mind, taking his position very seriously and getting frustrated when one thing doesn't turn out the way he expected.

It's a lot to handle even though he has Sr. Criston by his side, but that doesn't seem to be enough.

He constantly sends reports to Kings Landing with his position and what is currently happening, understanding that even though Aegon is injured, still his brother wants to be aware of everything, considering he is not at the Keep to protect them in case of anything.

There are countless times when Aemond does not rest properly as he has so much to think and do. And when he finally heads to his chamber almost at the Hour of the Wolf, you help him to get all that stress out of his system.

Aemond lets out a sigh as he lets his head fit all the way back, with his eye closed, as you begin to slowly move up and down his entire hard, heavy, swollen length, in need of release.

You moan and place your hands on his bare, firm chest for support, beginning to move your hips up and down in a more consistent pace, moving back and forth and even circling at times.

Aemond at all times lets you take control, which normally it is not usual for you to do as he prefers it to be him in charge, however this is another one of those nights where he is too tired not to let you ride him.

You groan and begin to move your hips faster and harder, as Aemond moans low and holds your waist firmly, watching as your bodies come together and as all of him repeatedly enters you.

You watch him in complete delight, his beautiful face contracted in pleasure, his brows furrowed and his lips parted, sighing and leaving marks on your skin with his long fingers.

You smile and lean fully into him, still moving, as you bring one of your hands to his hair, stroking it gently, and then bring your lips to his ear.

"Do you like it, my King?"

This only fills Aemond more with pleasure, who grunts and makes you increase the speed of your movements, as you moan loudly and feel him deliciously also ground on his feet and penetrate you harder.

The sound of skin on skin, your juices with his sweat and now Aemond claiming one of your breasts as he takes the nipple into his mouth, only makes you moan more in pleasure.

"Oh yes, my King. Just like that, please."

You whine, moaning and leaning further into him.

"Oh fuck—yes," he murmurs into your breasts, kneading them completely to his liking, "Yes, my Lady. Oh Gods."

You sigh and moan louder when Aemond suddenly takes all your hair in one of his hands, making it into a fist, to forcefully pull you down as he raises his hips in a firm upward motion, penetrating you hard and hitting exactly your nerve core.

All the air escapes your lungs and that explosion inside you begins to grow as Aemond penetrates you in that steadier way, not letting go of your hair, holding you tight.

"Are you going to cum?" he asks you in a deep husky voice.

"Yes," you moan, "Oh—fuck," you whimper.

"Cum, cum all on my cock, my sweet girl."

Then you are no longer thinking straight and become completely absorbed in the moment as he brings one of his hands between your bodies and begins to stroke his thumb over your most sensitive spot, causing you to close your eyes tightly, arch your back and continue to move with more fervor.

"Yes, yes, just like that," you moan, "Please, don't stop."

"Look at you," he grins, "Making a mess."

"Please, my King."

He grunts and increases his speed more as he again begins to suck on one of your nipples and then everything about you explodes in a delicious and more than satisfied way as Aemond fucks you hard across your peak, seeking his own release.

And by the end of the night, with one hard, strong, final thrust, he spills all of his seed inside you, filling you completely.

You let yourself fall completely on top of him, just as exhausted and breathing fast, catching your breath, as Aemond continues all soft and warm inside you.

You relax your lips and lazily raise your gaze to him, while still remaining on top of his hard, strong body, to see him also catching his breath, calming his heart rate and looking so tired.

You leave a soft kiss on his lips and move off on top of him to lie down next to him.

As every night, Aemond pulls your body to him and hugs your back as the two of you begin to be carried away by sleep, both of you more than satisfied, especially him after so much pressure and stress.

This is the way you can help him and be there for him. Honestly you don't complain, because as each time Aemond takes you, everything becomes more and more intense, already being more of a necessity.

Even during the day, one of his guards seeks you out and lets you know that the prince has requested your presence immediately in the room where Aemond plans his strategies and has meetings with all his advisors.

Arriving there, you expected anything but Aemond needing to fuck you right there in his chair and where it is a public place, even though only he and you is here.

"Try not to make too much noise, my love."

That's all he says to you and then makes you start riding him again, while you hold on and lean on his shoulders, moaning into his neck, while he listens to the sounds you make only for him and continues to demand that you move faster, harder and deeper.

You let your whole head fall back, closing your eyes in pleasure and you part your lips, as Aemond attacks and leaves marks all over your neck, grunting and holding you as if his life depended on it.

You move deep from front to back and he moans into your neck.

"Oh fuck—just like that, don't stop," he tells you hoarsely.

You gasp and muffle your moans as he desperately makes your breasts spring free through the collar of your dress and attacks them like a hungry man, as he brings both hands to the soft skin of your ass, kneading both your cheeks.

You cry out from the pleasure and continue to move deep from front to back.

"Yes, Aemond, yes," you moan.

"Always so responsive," he murmurs with delight.

He gazes proudly at your hard nipples, slightly red and swollen from his caresses, as he brings his hand to your center and strokes you with his thumb firmly, feeling all your juices sliding down his fingers.

"You like it, don't you?" he watches you with a grin, "You like it when I fuck you hard."

"Yes," you say as best you can, in a whisper.

He grunts and stops your movements abruptly to suddenly charge you and rise from his chair, as he sits you on the edge of the big table in front of him where the maps perch and begins to penetrate you faster and harder.

That time you had to drink moon tea again, considering that the dragon seed is strong and Aemond insists that always after every act, you must drink it, not even being able to let yourself forget it.

So the days go by when the unexpected news arrives about the battle of Lakeshore, where Aemond loses numerous men, all from the Lannister army, where they were attacked by a Northern army, being a major loss for the Greens and a victorious battle for the Blacks.

Aemond, furious, orders the death of Simon Strong and his entire family, as well as nearly killing the soldier who told him the news, blinded by his own anger and madness.

While you confined to your room, you can only wait for him to return to you when he has taken care of the whole matter, but with that great loss, Aemond and everyone begins to realize that they are losing the war.

If before Aemond didn't sleep and rest properly, with this news he doesn't anymore, to which you can only continue to wait, worried about him but unable to truly do anything, spending days in which you don't see Aemond anymore.

Until one night, the unexpected news arrives, but this time only for you.

"Where is Prince Aemond, Ellya?" you ask the maid who has been at your disposal since you arrived here, "Have you seen him? Do you know what he is doing with his men?"

She gives you a somewhat wary and curious look at the same time.

"You haven't heard, my Lady?"

This immediately catches your attention and you watch her completely attentively.

"About what?"

She blinks a couple of times, watching you a little surprised, to which this draws your attention more and alerts you, watching her intrigued, while she looks hesitant for a few moments, not quite sure if she is the one to tell you the new news.

"Ellya, what's wrong?" you urge her, beginning to worry.

She swallows hard, lets out a long breath and looks at you with some pity.

"The prince has approached the witch, the witch of Harrenhal," she lets you know, "For days now it seems the two of them started having their meetings."

You watch her more than attentively and confused at the same time, having no idea who this witch is, but instantly getting a bad feeling about the whole thing. You ask Ellya to explain who she is and she tells you everything.

Alys Rivers.

That's her name and apparently she's a bastard of Lyonel Strong, the once lord of Harrenhal who burned to death along with his son right here in this castle.

When you then remember… she is that same woman that Aemond did not give the order to kill and apparently spared her life when he killed Simon Strong and all his kin.

Instantly your assumptions are correct when Ellya tells you that this woman possesses dark magic and those kinds of abilities through witchcraft. And again you don't get that good feeling if Aemond has searched for her and is apparently having meetings with her.

Certainly after knowing this, you can't ask Aemond anything about it since you don't see him and don't dare go looking for him with all the duties he has to attend to.

However, the uncertainty lingers and all the time you think about it, feeling worried just imagining Aemond having encounters with her and also scared about what she might do.

Until one night finally the opportunity presents itself when you see the night through the small windows in comparison to the Keep, unable to fall asleep, when the doors open and you turn to see Aemond enter the chamber after so many days.

"Aemond?"

You call out to him in your soft, sleepy voice from trying to fall asleep but you simply can't, thinking all the while of him and her, the witch, as he watches you without at all expecting to hear your voice.

And even though you shouldn't, at that moment you feel sorry for him. You can tell he hasn't slept well in days, his whole face shows it to you, the extreme tiredness reflecting through his body as well, truly worrying you.

And that's why he actually watches you without having any expression on his face, leaving his sword on one of the tables and starting to take off his belts, preparing to sleep.

"Keep sleeping. I'll join you in a moment," he tells you just the same without much emotion in his voice.

"Where have you been?" you still ask him, carving your eyes, watching him closely, "I haven't seen you in days."

He lets out a long breath, turning his back on you and continuing to remove his clothes.

"Are you forgetting that we are at war?" he asks, "What do you mean, where have I been? Of course I have been leading all my men and attending to my duties as Protector of the Realm."

You press your lips together, instantly understanding that you must not upset and irritate him any more than he clearly already is. Still, like the stubborn one you are, you can't help yourself and again speak in his direction.

"I know, Aemond," you say softly, "But that's not what I meant. I meant that you didn't come here to sleep."

"I barely have time to sleep, Y/N," he tells you definitely more serious, alerting you, "And now that I finally have the chance, you're not letting me have my five minutes of peace," he tells you bitterly.

"No, Aemond, I swear that's not my intention," you instantly clarify, concerned.

"Then?" he looks over his shoulder at you, serious and clearly irritated, "You're going to let me be able to undress and sleep in peace?"

"Yes, of course," you tell him instantly, bewildered, "I-I just wanted…" you bite your lips, nervous, "…to know where you'd been," you mumble barely audibly.

And even though Aemond has heard you, he still doesn't say anything else, still taking off his clothes and with every movement feeling more tiredness all over his body, urgently needing to lie down on the bed and sleep as much as he can.

But you continue to watch him more attentively than before, Alys Rivers not leaving your thoughts and what he has talked or has been doing with her, that precisely not leaving you alone.

So in the middle of the silence, you dare to ask him in a soft murmur, watching him carefully.

"You were with Alys Rivers?"

Then suddenly Aemond stops his movements abruptly, slowly turning his head towards your direction, but only a part of it, barely managing to watch you over his shoulder, the tension in his whole body being more than visible.

When without further ado he resumes his movements, saying absolutely nothing to you and turning his back to you, while you continue to watch him attentively and expectantly for his response, whatever it may be.

And it is not until Aemond finishes processing your question that he finally answers you or rather answers you with another question in a serious and cold voice.

"Who told you that?"

You swallow hard, truly not wanting to give Ellya away.

"I heard it."

"From who? Where?"

He demands to know, more serious and annoyed, turning fully towards you. That's when you see his dark face, clearly annoyed, you stare at him bewildered, really not understanding his behavior.

"What's wrong? Why didn't you want me to know?"

At this he continues to stare at you annoyed, his lips pressed into a thin line and clearly irritated by your questioning, while you, starting to feel fearful, still continue to stare at him with your whole face soft but in confusion.

Aemond lets a few seconds pass, when he averts his gaze from yours for a moment as he licks his lips and finally lets out a long breath to turn his back on you again.

He reassures himself, having already taken into account from before that it would be impossible for you not to hear the name of the witch of Harrenhal and also how he would find himself in her company at times.

However, in a way I had hoped that you wouldn't find out and wouldn't question anything about it.

But with everything going on, him losing the war and resorting to desperate measures, there is basically no such thing as his patience and good humor.

"She's helping me with some war matters, nothing else."

He tells you coldly as you watch him and listen completely attentively, not understanding his answer.

"War matters?" you repeat.

"Yes, war matters," he repeats back to you as well, serious.

"And it's not something I can help you with?" you ask him without understanding.

He lets out a long sigh again this time, his patience again beginning to hang by a thread.

"No Y/N, you don't know all of Riverlands and the most convenient spots where I can send and command my men," he tells you serious, "Nor do you know the secret paths and where they might attack us by surprise, but she does."

At this you remain completely silent, watching him with your lips parted, thinking about his words.

This really continues to give you a very bad feeling, frustrating you because even though he has explained, you still don't feel convinced and can't do anything about it, not wanting to bother him anymore.

But it strikes you how he has been annoyed that you have asked him about her, that you have talked about her, so bringing up the matter again would not be smart on your part.

Still, you can't stay quiet.

"Nothing else?"

"Yes, nothing else," he tells you quickly and still in his serious tone.

You don't say anything else, watching him attentively, while he remains completely naked in front of you, as he usually likes to sleep. And still not feeling convinced, you decide not to bother him anymore and return to your same position as before to be lucky enough to sleep this time.

But you can't.

You continue watching the void, when you feel Aemond's weight sinking on the bed next to you, while you turn your back to him and think about his words, also about the witch and the two of them.

You press your lips together and finally close your eyes, needing to sleep to stop thinking.

However, this one night Aemond doesn't even come close towards you. Normally he always wraps one of his arms around your body and pulls you close to his body to sleep close, but nothing, he doesn't do anything.

And the next morning you wake up, he is gone.

Your days again pass without seeing Aemond, always being in your chamber and barely getting any news about what is going on with your prince and his side of the war.

At least you find comfort in your maidservants, with whom you talk and give you some company.

You also wander around the castle only a little during the day, not lasting long for fear that Aemond might find out and get annoyed with you not having any guards with you. But considering you don't have much to do, this comforts you as well.

When one day, the whispers in the cursed castle become too loud and rumors reach your ears: your prince is sharing a bed with the witch of Harrenhal.

This shocking and devastating news you don't want to believe, thinking that it is simply impossible because Aemond is yours, just as you are his. Or so you thought.

But even though you try to convince yourself that Aemond wouldn't do such a thing to you, betray you with another woman, let alone a witch, sadly it all starts to make sense to you.

He hadn't gone to sleep in his chamber, you also chambered, basically you didn't see him at all. And even though he told you he barely has time to sleep, he still must have… but not in the room you both share.

You really don't want to believe it, especially since he told you himself that she's only been helping him with war matters, nothing else.

But you knew all along that he wasn't being honest with you, you had that intuition and these rumors just confirmed it.

It is not until you see Aemond again after severe days without him being in your presence that you can finally confront him about it.

"You lied to me, didn't you?"

You ask him with your soft tone but sad at the same time, disappointed, with tears wanting to start coming out of your eyes when he watches you and he doesn't even need to ask you what you mean, because he instantly knows.

But it hurts you more when he lets out a long breath, it being another one of those times where you both barely see each other and he's already upset and annoyed by your behavior.

"See? This is why I didn't tell you, because of how you react," he tells you serious and watching you badly, tired.

"So you were planning to never tell me?" you ask sadly.

"You don't understand Y/N. You don't understand anything."

You look at him hurt.

"And how am I supposed to understand if you don't talk to me?" you ask confused, "Is this why you decided to bring me here with you? For me to stand here waiting for you while you enjoy the company of another woman?"

He lets out a huff as he rolls his eye in annoyance.

"You're getting it all wrong," he tells you serious, "I'm not doing it for my own satisfaction, I'm doing it because it's necessary and in order to win the war."

You continue watching him confused, not understanding what he is referring to or rather not understanding what that has to do with lying with her, to which Aemond, frustrated, explains to you in order to end this matter once and for all.

"Alys… she can see things, she knows things" he tells you, "Her power helps me to know what will happen next and what exactly I must do against the threats, what strategies to plan in order not to lose more of my men and thus win the war."

"And for that you must sleep with her?" you ask in pain.

"Getting that kind of information is not easy, Y/N," he tells you absurdly, "Of course she must have asked me for something in return and that is her form of payment."

You deny with your head, still watching him confused.

"But you don't necessarily have to pay her that way. You are the prince, she must obey you and in return for that… you can offer her gold or something else."

Crees que eso no fue lo mismo que yo pensé en ofrecerle?

"Do you think that wasn't the same thing I thought of offering her?" he inquires you annoyed, "Of course I did but she give me nothing."

And yet he decided to give her exactly what she wanted.

Your mind tells you, as you continue to watch him intently and pained, as he turns his back to you and you see him starting to take off his belts at the same time you feel that sharp pain in your chest, thinking about all the weeks he had been keeping this from you.

And when you asked him, he still lied to you.

"But…" you try to say, watching him sadly, "I'm sure you don't need her, Aemond."

He lets out a derisive, dry snort, shaking his head slightly, this hurting you instantly as well, but you continue to insist on changing his mind so that he doesn't have to do this… win the war through witchcraft.

"There are other ways that I know are more complicated and time consuming, but you can win and fairly, I know that," you observe him hopefully.

He laughs unfunnily, low and bitterly, as he turns to you again and looks at you as if you were a fool.

"How easy it is to talk when you're not the one serving the Realm and losing a war, isn't it?"

You watch him completely speechless, while he takes a couple of steps towards you watching you even in that way and completely upset and annoyed because you don't understand him.

You don't understand anything of what is happening and what he must be doing.

"What are you doing here besides warming my bed, hmm?"

He inquires you with a cruel tone, his words instantly being a dagger to your heart.

"Yes, it's true, I was the one who decided to bring you here with me and I made you a promise for the end of all this, didn't I?"

He asks you seriously and expectantly.

"But now the least you can do is to understand me and give me peace, whether you like what I have to do or not," he makes it clear in a threatening tone, "And what I must do now Y/N, for the good of the Realm and to secure my brother's Throne, is to keep Alys on my side because I need her and I need her very much."

This last is completely etched in your mind, watching it attentively, your lips half open and the first tear falling down your cheek, under the attentive and annoying gaze of Aemond, who in spite of this does not care and turns away to continue undressing.

Then the other tears run down both of your cheeks, feeling more intense that sharp pain in your chest, hurting you completely by his insensitivity and how even though you know he is sleeping with another woman, he still doesn't care about you.

When has Aemond ever needed you the way he has told you he needs her?

Never.

You thought that bringing you here with him was his way of telling you that he needs you, but now that you have to share him with another woman and he apparently doesn't care about your feelings, you think it was all a bad idea.

You swallow the tight lump in your throat and clear your tears as you avoid completely breaking down by being in the same place as him.

"Perhaps I should go back to King's Landing," you say amidst the silence and tense atmosphere, avoiding hearing yourself as broken as you really are, "Perhaps I should talk to my father, apologize and do my duty by getting married."

Again Aemond lets out an unfunny and completely incredulous laugh, again turning to watch you but with the difference that he is actually watching you slightly amused and expectantly at the same time.

"Don't tell me, Y/N."

He watches you intently.

"And who are you going to marry, hmm? Or rather who or who will want to marry you?"

He asks you still amused.

"Haven't you thought that I've already ruined you for any other man by the simple fact of having brought you here with me? Haven't you thought that with that alone people can assume an intimate relationship between the two of us? Although it's not really an assumption, it's a fact, isn't it? For a long time now."

Tears again steadily stream down your cheeks, watching him with all the pain in your gaze, as he again averts his gaze from yours and again shakes his head in disbelief.

And you know he's right.

But you don't think it's fair that he can get annoyed with you when you call the attention of other men, but you are in a much worse position, he doesn't care how you feel because he is the man, he is the prince and you must understand him.

So it doesn't matter that he can have as many women as he wants at his disposal, in any way, while you should be reserved only for him.

"Stop crying," he tells you cold and serious, without looking at you, "If you feel so bad for Alys, understand that this is just for the moment, it will all be over when I win the war, so stop this foolishness."

And there it is again… his insensitivity.

And after that… everything changes.

That night Aemond again doesn't try to touch you or hug you during his sleep, nor is it as if you would want him to, considering that he had probably been in her company before.

That is why now knowing that Aemond warms her bed, you no longer desire his touch or even his presence.

And not only because of that, but also because of the way he had made you feel with his cruel behavior and with his cruel words, and that painful feeling just won't go away, not even him realizing how much he did and does hurt you.

Fortunately you continue not seeing him very often, in all that time just locked in your chamber, not even having the courage to talk and enjoy the company of the maids as usual, wanting to be alone all the time, going back to your days of having no appetite and no mood for anything.

If Aemond notices, he doesn't say anything to you or do anything about it, just watches you intently every time he appears in the chamber, where you just greet him and nothing else, not really giving him attention like before, your whole gaze dull, empty, disinterested and sad.

You can smell a strong scent, like citrus and a bit sweet at the same time on his clothes sometimes when he comes to the chamber very late at night, certainly belonging to her and of course he must not even notice it.

And not only that, cautiously you can see some marks on his neck and chest as he begins to undress, to which you lie on the bed with your back to him and completely covering yourself with the sheets, letting a few tears fall without him seeing you and without making a sound until you fall asleep.

Now all you think of when you see him is him in the company of his witch, receiving everything she offers him, her visions and letting him know everything he wants to know, in exchange for sleeping with her.

It is not until days later that he slowly begins to approach you again to caress and touch you.

At first you didn't let him turn your back to him and he started to caress you by putting his arm across your stomach, trying to pull you closer to him.

But when you stayed completely still and with your eyes full of tears, he felt the tension all over your body and at the end he let out a long sigh and stopped touching you, resigning himself.

You didn't understand why he needed that from you when he certainly always gets that from her.

That went on for a few more weeks, until Aemond was beginning to lose patience with not being able to have you that he finally lost it completely.

And you had to give in to pleasing him, letting him make you his after a considerable time. However, he was no longer making you feel anything.

Just the thought that he had previously been inside her and now he's inside you looking like he can't get enough… it was too much.

Aemond doesn't notice your lack of disinterest as he begins to fuck you, nor does he notice how your heart breaks into pieces. And it's not until you stop being responsive to his touch that he's finally disconcerted.

Without feeling your juices that made penetration easier, he gasps and lifts his gaze to you, peeling his face from your neck, watching you intently and curiously, still entering you continuously.

"What is it, my lady? Doesn't it feel good?"

You don't answer.

You don't even look him in the eye.

At this, Aemond kisses you with need, moving in and out of you faster, needing your response, for you to feel the same as he does, as before.

But it doesn't feel good, not good at all.

After that night, unable to stand being cooped up in your chamber any longer for the whole day, you decide to go out into the hallways and eventually end up in the kitchens to offer your hands to the maids for whatever it is they need.

You can't even stand your loneliness anymore, so you finally enjoy the company of the maids and help out as needed, even taking your meals with them and even returning at night to the chamber, almost at the same time as Aemond.

Surprisingly, he notices this and questions you about doing maid duties as well, telling you that you have no need, to which you without much emotion tell him that it's all right, that you like to help, not to say anything else to him and clearly not to give more importance to the matter.

In those moments is when he starts to get tired of your behavior, when the truth is that even he doesn't understand himself.

Before it bothered him that you cared too much about him and that you questioned absolutely everything, but now that you have stopped doing it, it also bothers him your lack of interest in him when before you were always there at his disposal, also bothering him your cold behavior.

But it bothers him more that you don't even respond to him anymore when he makes you his.

However, he knows he can't blame you for her, for Alys, because you know what he is doing with her in the darkness of her chamber in exchange for what.

But it still bothers him.

Fortunately for you, he decides to give you time and not force you into anything again if you don't want him to, to which you could only feel relieved, although you still have to endure how he hugs you during his sleep but nothing more.

It is not until one night that you return to your chamber later than usual, since you lost track of time and were all the time in the company of the maids, that you think that Aemond must probably still be attending to his duties or that he must already be asleep… or that he must be in the company of his witch.

The latter is what you believe the most, not surprisingly. In the end, however, it does surprise you.

About to open the door to your room, you don't have to, as it opens on the other side and you find yourself face to face with a woman with pale skin, huge green eyes, long black hair and wearing a robe around her body, holding it with one of her hands.

Your eyes widen and you freeze completely, as she stares back at you with such intensity that it almost brings you to tears, but in the end it is not that, but the realization of what has happened here, in your chamber, which is in fact more yours than Aemond's.

You then watch behind her, where Aemond instantly watches you with an expression you can't really read, as he finishes buttoning his belt, with his entire torso naked and the clear marks on his neck.

Again… you feel that sharp pain in your chest, the sadness and humiliation hitting you hard, with your tears starting to want to spill out of your eyes and run down your cheeks, watching him with the most hurt look of all.

How could he dare?

You don't even expect anything else, you just run away from there, tears streaming down your cheeks instantly, as you hear Aemond say your name, quickly coming after you.

But you don't look back, not even wanting to look him in the eye, having no idea where you're really heading, but not in your greatest madness are you ever going to lie in that bed again, not even he having any respect for you in that regard.

Still Aemond is quicker and manages to catch up to you, grabbing you hard by your arm, demanding you to stop and watch him, pulling you closer to his body, to which you put up resistance and crying you try with all your might to get him to let go of you to get away from him, but he won't let you.

"Y/N! Look at me!"

You can't.

You don't want to.

He irritated, grabs you firmly with both hands, reluctantly stopping you, while you continue to cry and feel completely weak, everything about him, his grip on you when he had touched her on your bed before and that scent of hers also impregnated in him… it's too much.

"Let go of me."

You say pleadingly, sobbing, trying to pull away from him.

"Stop fucking acting like this!" he exclaims to you in annoyance.

You deny with your head.

"H-how could you?"

"Look at me," he demands.

"No! Let go of me!" you resist again, very hurt and very humiliated.

"I said look at me!"

He exclaims to you angrily, grabbing your face with both of his hands and making you look at him in a firm and demanding manner, his grip strong.

At this you stand completely still, but still crying and sobbing, trying to control yourself, but you cannot.

Thinking about it, about her and him already hurt you enough, but now having seen it… you can't stand it, as well as his touch now on you, finding it unpleasant.

And when you finally open your eyes and dare to look at him again, he is worried about noticing all that pain, rejection and displeasure.

However, he doesn't allow it and continues to hold you in that firm manner.

"Listen to me," he says seriously and firmly, "This was the last time, the last one."

You put up a resistance again, not believing his words at all, looking absurd in the midst of all your pain.

"Y/N!" he exclaims stopping you again, looking at you as honestly as possible, " It has been the last time, truly," he insists, "I promise."

You say nothing to him, just continue to cry almost silently, as he promises and assures you over and over again, wanting to reassure you, when the truth is you don't even believe him, so you make him believe that you do, to which he finally lets go of you.

"Go back to the chamber and wait there for me, she's gone," he tells you softly, but still firm and demanding.

And you are surprised how he dares in ordering you such a thing, while you just nod so you can finally get away from him and feeling relieved you do so, definitely not going back to that room, at all.

You find another empty chamber where you lie down on the bed right there and continue to let the tears flow freely from your eyes, trying to calm down little by little, feeling so lonely, so silly and as if you mean nothing.

It is not until after Aemond finishes talking to Alys and returns to the chamber expecting to find you there, but nothing.

He lets out a long breath, frustrated, only to later ask his guards where you've gone to find you in another chamber, completely balled up, asleep and with dried tears on your cheeks, your whole face suffering.

He lets out another long breath, running a hand through his face and hair, shuffling it in frustration, that he decides not to do anything else, just leave you alone to sleep, that being the least he can do for you after witnessing such a thing taking advantage of your absence.

Severe days has passed since that breaking point between you and Aemond, where neither of you have spoken about it.

He tried, of course, to explain to you so that he could properly ask for your forgiveness, but you never let him, not wanting or needing to hear anything from him, still too hurt and too humiliated to bear such thing.

Since then, you now sleep in that new chamber, this not being to Aemond's liking at first.

But acting so cold to him, not even being able to look him in the eye when he spoke to you and making you so tense in his presence, he understood that he could not force you to sleep with him if you did not wish to do so.

Aemond hated every moment when he did not wake up with you by his side, also when he could not touch you and make you his, or have the maids assist him in absolutely everything, when before it was only you.

If he kept his promise not to have any more meetings with Alys, you were no longer interested in knowing, only focusing on you and sometimes on him when he asked you for something, but always with that cold and indifferent behavior.

When the time of battle comes again.

He and his entire army prepares to march to a point where Alys had told him before that it would be where an army fighting for his half-sister would be and that is approaching Harrenhal.

Aemond awaits the return of Sr. Criston with a small but efficient army that he prepared for him by sending him and those men to the nearest house settlements of Harrenhal to demand that they bend the knee for his brother Aegon.

Once he returns with those men, they can finish preparing and stop that army of Rhaenyra's, having him more opportunity to protect his entire army from the skies and burn as much as he can.

You along with some maids provide food to the men who will go to battle, you also help with their supplies, walking back and forth under the watchful eye of Aemond being so helpful to his men, this not pleasing him but not being able to do anything about it either.

When an ambush happens.

Everything happens too fast, as suddenly a not very big army surrounds all of Aemond's surprisingly with black flags, symbol of Rhaenyra.

And then a man grabs you by force, takes you to the center of the whole ambush and then puts a dagger in your neck.

#aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond

572 notes · View notes

forgeofthenine · 5 months

Note

Oooo if you’re still taking requests, how about how the boys would respond to coming home after a long day, resting against their partner, and their partner removes their hair tie for them and gives them a little scalp massage? I love how they all have their hair tied up it’s so cute :))

This request was absolutely adorable and I love seeing our tiefling men experiencing a little domestic bliss, I hope you enjoy the headcanons <3

The bachelors when you massage their head after a long day

Dammon

Dammon is no stranger to long days spent in his forge, sometimes the thought of you is the only thing bringing him inside

You can hear as he hangs his apron up by the door with a loud sigh of relief

Call him over, ask him to come sit with you on the couch for a bit, he can never say no to you

And he falls back into the couch heavily, fatigue sinking deep in his bones as he feels your hands pull him down into your lap

Bright blue eyes close as his head meets your thighs, feeling fingers deftly taking apart his bun and freeing his hair

"Spoiling me now?" He asks with a light chuckle, switching to a rumbling hum as your fingers run over his scalp

Dammons more than happy to lie there in your lap as you give him a scalp massage

He lets out little noises of happiness, small pleased groans and self satisfied purrs at the soft treatment

An simple way to draw pleased moans from the tiefling is to massage around the bases of his horns, a particularly sensitive part of any tieflings scalp

Dammon sees nothing wrong with letting out a low moan every now and then before slowly falling silent

It's easy to think he's fallen asleep with the way he melts completely under your touch

When you've finished helping Dammon relax he'll finally open his eyes again, grinning as he pulls you down for a thank you kiss

Zevlor

This paladin works so hard to protect the tiefling refugees, spending hours bent over his desk looking at maps

You barely get more than a "Good evening, my love" when you come in to see what's keeping your lover

His shoulders relax instantly as you rest your hands on them, leaning your front against him as you look over his shoulder at the spread of maps

As your hands move up to his head you can feel the way Zevlor tries to lean back into you, seeking your touch

The pleased sigh that leaves him as you pull his hair free from its tie almost sends a shiver through you

It's deep and quiet, the pleasant type of sound that settles in your bones

You can feel his soft, long hair pooling over your fingers as you start to massage him, Zevlor leaning back even more into you

He looks the most relaxed you've seen him in weeks, eyes fluttering closed and lips parting ever so slightly as you work your magic

All the wrinkles that are normally set in his forehead disappear with each passing second

As his head leans back and reveals the paladins face to you it's entirely too hard to resist pressing a small kiss to his brow, feeling the warm skin against your lips and long hair around your fingers

Zevlor gives you a sheepish smile as you pull back to look at him again, and soon he's speaking again

"It might be wise to retire for the night now, and maybe you'll let me repay your kindness."

There's no way you can say no when Zevlor looks at you like that

Rolan

Your darling wizard has tucked himself away in his study as he tries to catalogue and organise all of lorroakans many tomes

It's easy enough to slip past the large wooden doors and into the large room, your frame dwarfed by the massive bookshelves lining the room

You find Rolan hunched over his wooden desk writing on parchment, not noticing as you come to stand beside him

It's only when you use a hand to lift his chin and right his posture that you reveal the tieflings bleary eyes

It's a simple thing to drop into his lap, fingertips brushing over his jaw before you let his hair loose and watch it frame his tired face

Your fingers drag lightly through his hair, shifting to rub against his scalp as a loud purr breaks the silence

As you rub gentle circles near his temples you can feel a familiar tail wind around your leg, the very end of it thwacking gently against your thigh

Rolan soaks up all of your attention in his sleep deprived state, hands holding you firm on top of his lap

He loves feeling you work any knots out of his hair with only your fingers, murmurs of how pretty he is leaving his lips

It's one of the few times you see him so genuinely pleased, relaxed and tired enough to not put up any fronts

"I might slip off to sleep right here, trapping you with me at my desk."

Rolans voice has a light rasp to it, eyes cracking open as he chuckles

#bri answers #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon x reader #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #baldurs gate 3 rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader

336 notes · View notes

akutasoda · 3 months

Note

Hi, may I please request BSD men with an s/o who has the ability to regenerate and as a result, is rather reckless in battle because they're functionally immortal?

-Sincerely, 💋

confidence in conflict

synopsis - your ability gave you a great confidence in battle, but maybe that wasn't a good thing

includes - ranpo, sigma, ayatsuji, natsume

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight angst, hints toward death/getting hurt, wc - 601

ranpo edogawa ★↷

↪ranpo himself doesn't normally do field missions involving conflict to no ones surprise. the only times he really goes is if he needs something else for the case.

↪so normally most of the time he demands either you or a coworker you went with to know if you're okay, whoever he finds first.

↪ however because you could regenerate he would ask how reckless you were. he didn't really have to worry about you getting hurt but if you ever put yourself in dangerous situations because of your ability he would worry.

↪and he wouldn't hesitate to scold you. it wasn't really scolding, more making you feel guilty for making him worry. but atleast he could find comfort in knowing no matter how far you would be you would be okay.

sigma ★↷

↪sigma was rather indifferent about combat. he knew it would become unavoidable in some situations but he would also stave it off for as long as possible. it wasn't his favoured option.

↪but you were on the opposite end of the spectrum. your ability gave you a great sense of confidence in combat and didn't pick your fights wisely, opting to engage in fights whenever you had the chance.

↪and you were reckless in the fights themselves. this initially made sigma worry constantly, he had finally found someone he wanted to believe would never use him and he could trust - he didn't want to lose that, lose you.

↪but when he came to know of your ability he felt almost a false confidence. he could feel slightly better that you probably wouldn't be gravely hurt but he knew anything could render your ability useless - especially fatal wounds.

↪he would always tell you to be careful. he didn't want to lose the only person he could believe wouldn't use him.

yukito ayatsuji ★↷

↪ ayatsuji was a rather cocky man, that was no surprise to anyone. he didn't really enage in combat however as he found little use for it and anyone he wanted rid off... well his ability could take care of that.

↪and he couldn't help the smug grin that formed when he witnessed how reckless you were in battle. mainly because he knew why, your ability.

↪he found it rather interesting that you had such confidence because of your ability and he couldn't blame you, he'd probably do the same. but when it came to being closer to you he'd hide his worry.

↪he also had confidence in your ability to keep you safe but he knew life was cruel. there was nothing stopping something drastic happening that could render your ability useless and your recklessness would finally catch up to you.

natsume soseki ★↷

↪natsume lived most his life in the quiet solitude only found living as a cat. he knew he had quite a few undesirable people looking for him and so he preferred that life rather than seeking out the conflicts they'd want.

↪and while he'd urge you to do the same, he knew he couldn't stop you entirely from rushing into a conflict without a care in the world. perhaps he did actually like that about you, one of your charms per say.

↪he undestood that you had great confidence in your ability and he did too but he'd still scold you. everytime you threw yourself recklessly into battle would earn you a light scolding.

↪the last thing he'd ever want was for you to get hurt, or worse. he'd rather throw himself into a conflict with those who want him gone than see you get hurt.

#💋 anon↩#x reader #x gender neutral reader #bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #bsd ranpo #ranpo x reader #bsd sigma #sigma x reader #bsd ayatsuji #yukito ayatsuji x reader #ayatsuji x reader #bsd natsume #natsume x reader

142 notes · View notes

missglaskin · 1 year

Text

Perv!Yan Targaryen Men (Maegor, Jaehaerys I, Daemon, Baelon, Viserys III, Rhaegar, Aemond, Young Griff) with sister!Darling

Note-To be inclusive the reader is adopted, but has targaryen/velaryon blood. Also please do not report this

Tags: Filthy smut, somnophilia, spanking, choking, period sex (Daemon), teasing, masturbation, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, possessive/obssessive behavior, jealousy

Maegor

Maegor loved you. And you loved him. He was your brother. And if the years with him forced you to see the truth. Is that no matter how deeply and intimately you loved him. It’s not enough to stop him from inflicting harm on all those around you. Not even your brother Aenys was safe from his wrath. And finally, you understood why your father shielded you from him. As for all the ‘love’ Maegor held for you, it wasn’t enough to keep him from giving into his desires.

You consumed his every thought. Turning him into an almost state of madness. Depriving himself from you each second adds fuel to the already burning flame within him. It doesn’t matter if any of his wives bore a resemblance to you, if all the women he brought from the street of silk wore your face. If their mouth opens and your voice is heard. If the body they displayed was sculpted like yours. It didn’t matter. Because in the end nothing satisfies him, nothing will bring him to ease only his sweet sister could.

It was he who stole your first kiss. And if he wasn’t, you wouldn’t dare to tell him. As for Maegor, it didn’t matter who it was even if it was one of your lady friends fulfilling your curiosities. The first few kisses were as innocent as Maegor would have them be. But as time goes, the kisses become more and more passionate. Feeling his hands starting to roam and tug roughly on the fabric.

Many times you found yourself over his lap or on some table. Your ass left sore and bruised from the hand that strikes the skin over and over. His jealousy was not to be taken lightly. Daring to giggle at another’s jape, to enjoy yourself in their company, to even glance at them too long for his liking. Is all the reasons Maegor needs to remind you of your place. There’s an eagerness in punishing you, loving to hear your whimpers and pleadings.

His broad hands have become a sort of necklace. Often wrapped around your throat as a warning for disobeying him, the grip loose yet firm. But hearing your gasps for air, the hazy look in your eyes. The sight comes to arouse him. Tightening his grip, listening to your soft whines and groans. He does let go eventually.

It is when the full moon is shining in the night sky that he usually gives in to his desires. Awakened by the force of his thrusts as he snapped his hips against your ass in loud claps. Shivers run down your bare spine as the cold air blows. At the realization of your awakened state, a hand reaches for the nape of your neck and pulls your head upward. Forcing you to keep your eyes open on him.

If you are caught pleasing yourself in any way, you will be met with a harsh punishment. He is so possessive of your body that even giving yourself ecstasy will anger him. It results in you on your knees and hands, forced to endure the slaps against your pussy. You must remain still or the punishment will never end. But it’s not long before you feel his cock slide through your folds.

It doesn’t matter where the two of you are or when it is. There is no end to Maegor's lust. Whether he’s on the throne, having you on your knees. Whether it’s after coming after a battle, bloodied and wounded, seeking your comfort. Whether it’s in the company of his wives. Or the company of servants and knights, but Maegor will behead them afterwards as they dared to look at what was his.

Jaehaerys

Your brother was always told to be wise beyond his years. A man destined to rule from the day he emerged from his mother's womb. Fair-spoken, open-handed, as brave as he was chivalrous. Who could ask for a more ideal man? But even in the strongest of men, how could they hold against the worst threat of all; the yearning, the desire, the lust. If it was a lady or a servant, it would be much simpler. Exiled and never seen again, but what would one do if it was their own sister?

There was not a day where he didn’t feel such shame. He avoided you. Refusing to speak or look you in the eye. You thought your brother hated you. What other excuse would there be. But there was another reason for it. As Jaehaerys found his eyes wandering to any skin that was bare to him. A burning gaze mostly focused on your cleavage, only to forcefully tear his said gaze away.

Jaehaerys is often in denial at how he feels about you. There is an attempt to ease his guilt in thinking of you purposely teasing him, trying to seduce him. Perhaps for political gain. Why else would you visit him late at night, bend down to pick something up for him, to stare at him with those coy eyes of yours. No matter how many times he pushes you away, he never seems to stray away from your side.

There was once an incident. One that no matter how many times he tells himself, Jaehaerys cannot justify. His eye catching the white cloth that remained on the ground of your chambers. Your nightgown. His mind resisted the temptation, but his body caved into it. Through his fingers, the material was felt. Taking it with him. Finding it difficult to converse with you after without letting his thoughts wander to what he has taken.

Your scent is a drug to him. The moment you decide to switch perfumes, he's the first to notice. Whatever fragrance you wear, he has a servant bring it to him. Your scent permeated every nook and cranny of his chambers. Jaehaerys believed that doing this would subdue his urges, but all it has done is intensify his desire for you.

When Jaehaerys is unable to sleep, he knows that he can no longer resist. Not only have you consumed all his thoughts, but his every dream. Imagining you in the most compromising positions. He could just send you to dragonstone and put up with the suffering. But this is all becoming too much.

For one night. Just one night he indulges in his whims. His beard tickles your skin as his mouth is on yours. The length of his cock pushing up into your cunt, spreading out your thigh wide for him. He has fully lost himself in the feeling. After so many restless nights, Jaehaerys can rest, bare body on yours. He does not feel shame until the sun rises.

He tells you it's the last time. No longer should he long after you. Yet he repeats those words again and again. Till he no longer does because he no longer believes it. Finding himself joining your bed that his chambers have been hardly used. Jaehaerys thinks of you as a witch at times. Who casted a spell on him. A spell he's unable to break from.

Daemon

His possessiveness over you was nowhere endearing. Not when he stood over another lord’s son, bloodied fists colliding with the boy’s face over and over because he tried to ‘kiss you’. Not when he locked you in your chambers so you wouldn’t meet your possible betrothal. Not when he was covered in blood all to crown you the maiden of love and beauty at every tourney. Love was believed to make a better man, but not yours, as it made Daemon nearly a beast filled with lust and ferocity.

There was no one who loved to tease you more than Daemon. Chuckling when you grow frustrated at his constant badgering. Some of his jokes are far from appropriate, and the sight of you becoming flustered is all the more enjoyment. Daemon imagines seeing that expression on your face when he finally bends you over. His dick hard under the material just at the thought.

He behaves like a dog in heat. Pressing against you as he whispers all sorts of filth things to your ears. It appears to be a game to him. To see how far he reaches your limits. Having his hands squeeze your chest above the fabric or having them slid under the dress to go between your legs.

Daemon loves it when you scold him. When you smack his hand away. Push him away. Slap his face even. It makes the so-called "game" even more entertaining and, most definitely, turns him on. He adores your fire, and it's the closest you'll ever come to receiving Daemon's heart eyes. Further, your brother knows of your desire for him as well.

Daemon loved to dress you in tight and revealing dresses. For all his possessiveness, there’s a satisfaction in seeing a man's eye with lust, knowing they will never have you. But shall any other man try to approach you, they will come to face him. As well leading to you being bent down over his lap while you are forced to count every strike against your skin until it’s swollen, knowing damn well he put you in this situation.

Through the secret passages of the castle. Daemon is found in your chambers late at night. Where you are groped as his cock slams in and out of your gushing hole. This is all his. He murmurs to your ears. No one should touch you like this. To pin you down. To fuck you like the little greedy whore you are. Only your brother. Only him.

At your time of month. Daemon insists you didn’t need all the maester’s teas and medicines. He was your cure. Head buried between your legs since the pleasure helps ease the pain. His tongue soon replaces his cock. And soon every month, he has you come to him. But Daemon does offer a better solution, one where you never have to worry about such pain. To have his child instead.

There's not a part of you that Daemon doesn't wish to corrupt. He strives to make you want him as much as he wants you. To share his lust. Have you plead for the feeling of his tongue and fingers. Have you drunk on his cock as he's drunk on your pussy.

Baelon

Everyone assumed as the younger, you will be the one to follow Baelon wherever he went, but it was he who trailed behind you. As children, Baelon didn't like anyone interfering with your shared playtime, even Aemon got beaten with a stick for trying. To those nearby, it was all an adorable display. But as now the two of you are of age, Baelon’s possessiveness persisted more than ever. Any innocence that was once shared has been tainted by the desire at play.

Baelon loved to tease you, but it was only him who could do so. Your possessions are taken by him as he swings his arms around, forcing you to leap and lunge to regain them. You are at his mercy if you are ticklish. Pleading and whines escaping your lips. Presenting him your puppy eyes and pouty lips. A sight you didn’t know aroused him. Briefly pausing before quickly regaining his composure.

You didn’t wear a dress more than once. Not out of sheer wealth, but rather you are unable to find them afterwards. Your nightgowns in particular. Baelon felt guilty sneaking into your chambers. And as much as he wants to return them. It’s not much of an option with them mostly covered in cum stains from how roughly he jerked off with them.

Your brother kisses you often on the cheek as a greeting or to bid you goodbye. Though on some occasions his lips ‘accidentally’ brush against yours. The blame being that you moved suddenly. But it becomes harder to pin the blame, as after the first time. Baelon has it happen again and again. That you no longer blink. Even when you are napping and feel lips on yours-you are yet to react.

There is also no reaction to the hand that’s on your thigh. At first, it was subtle and brief. Baelon and you laying in the open fields, jesting and speaking with one another. Until you feel the hand reach under your dress, it rests near your feet only to go higher and higher. Violet eyes on yours as he watches your expressions.

On your name day, Baelon promised you a gift. You weren't given your gift until the evening. Instructed to sit on the table as Baelon moves with his upper body hidden under your dress. Hands reaching to grab into anything as you throw your head back from the pleasure. Certain that the halls resounded to your moans. There won't be much guilt if you come to want him as well.

As keen as he was to please you. Baelon too had his own urges. Your hand able to feel the hardness through the material. Don't you wish to help him. To ease him. Is all the convincing you need. Your brother knows how eager you are to please him. Baelon has you sock his cock many mornings to bring him luck, while stroking your cheek and praising you.

This is wrong and you know it. He always has a way with words that makes you forget about all the repercussions that will follow. And the sensation of his cock buried deep inside of you leaves your mind numb. Your brother knows he has ruined you. Ruined you for any other lord. Not even a knight will have you in this condition. But it's what he intends. How else will you be truly his.

Viserys III

There is no guilt in Viserys' lust for you. You belong to him. Already claimed. After all, you would have been wed in the traditions of your house. Even when only a few of you remain, even when the two of you are a continent away from your ‘home’. Viserys will still uphold his duties. So when his thoughts go to what your bodies will do for the other, why should he feel shame.

Your brother has seen you bare perhaps more than yourself. He hated anyone looking at it. The servants are commanded to turn their gaze unless they wish for their eyes to be plucked out. As he would undress you or take you for a bath, Viserys would examine your body to ensure it was ‘healthy’. Making passing remarks that it will only be truly healthy if your belly was swollen with child and if your tits had milk in them.

Your place was in his lap. Viserys detested you sitting anywhere else. While it was outside in the gardens, during dinners, or you in his chambers. Your back was pressed against his chest, straddling his thigh. Usually with a book in your hand, but it doesn’t last long before your brother throws it across the room because it distracts you from him. But perhaps that distraction was needed, feeling the hands that rest on your thighs and stomach dangerously close to your intimate areas.

Viserys even enjoyed feeding you fruits. Having Illyrio bring in many of your favorites. But with everything else, your brother has no good intentions. Loving the feeling of your tongue on his fingers as you open your mouth to take whatever he gives you. It makes him picture you doing the same to his cock, eagerly taking in your mouth as you do now.

The duty of cleaning him at his daily baths falls to you. Your brother ensures that every inch of his skin has been scrubbed clean. As soon as your hand reaches between Viserys' legs, his hips begin to move to your touch. Keeping your hand there as it’s not ‘clean’ yet.

It’s not long before your brother has you on your knees with his cock in your mouth. His hand on the back of your head forcing you to take all of him. You wish to please your brother don’t you. To make him happy, to make him proud of you. One day, he will become your husband and it is your duty to satisfy his every need. He’s just preparing you for it.

Every night, Viserys shares your bed. It started with touches. Hands resting on your stomach dangerously close to your intimate area. Then there were the hands squeezing your tits, rubbing his bulge against your behind. And then Viserys began to sleep bare. Soon, you came to follow. Waking up with your nipples sore and your body exposed to the chilly air.

When Viserys finally has you. He will seek you again and again. Saying that he has finally made a ‘woman’ out of you. Your back resting on a pillow as your brother breeds you roughly. He forces you to remain like this with the mix of both of your arousal leaking into the sheets behind you.

Rhaegar

Lonely Rhaegar was as a child, nose buried in a book, no interest in friends. Only you, his sweet, sweet sister was his company. And it remained such as that for the years to come. A man like your brother was believed to be valiant, honorable, noble. In spite of the customs of your house looming over you, the relationship you shared was considered admirable and ‘harmless’. Yet no one has ever peeked inside the head of the crown prince where his thoughts are nothing but pure.

For as sweet as your brother was to you, he was an opportunist at heart. For instance, when you are reaching to peck him on the cheek, only for him to turn just enough for your lips to brush his. Amusedly watching as you get all worked up before his hands are on your cheek, closing the gap.

With your mother often confined and your father the way he is. There was no one else to turn to other than Rhaegar. Hiding behind the covers, where an arm instinctively pulls you toward him. Singing you sweet lullabies, wiping away your tears. Your face covered in gentle kisses from your brow to your lips. And you feel his mouth on your neck to your shoulder. But he forces himself to stop as much as he wants to otherwise.

It’s easy to go to Rhaegar in any time of need. Flashing you a sweet smile as he offers his help. Tying the strings at the back of your dress. Tending to your bruised knee. Teaching you how to dance. And you either do not notice or not mind the lingering touches and how his eyes roam your body.

Once, wine was accidentally spilled all over your white dress at a feast. As he always does, Rhaegar moves quickly to assist you, removing you from the room. Protecting you from the prying eyes as he presses you against his chest. And when you are alone, he undresses your dress all while reassuring you that it's fine. Your body begins to feel warm as you watch him savor the scene before him.

As mentioned, you and Rhaegar often shared a bed. He would have you lie with him every night if it weren't such a scrutiny. Your scent was all that remained when you were to depart. When the sheets were removed by the servants, it secretly frustrates him. Helping him picture you underneath as he does unsavory things to your body.

Alone in his chambers, only for his eyes to see. Rhaegar urges to dress in his clothes. The sight of you wearing his shirt, thighs exposed and nipples poking through the fabric causes an uncomfortable strain in his pants. Pulling you to straddle one of his thighs. His hand on your revealed skin and face in your covered chest.

You are used to the roaming hands that rests on all places, your hips, chest, thighs. A new sensation hits you however when the hands move in between your legs. Long slick-covered fingers pressed into your cunt. All to prepare you for what's about to come. He has been patient for so long hasn’t he. Rhaegar has every intention of breeding you, seeing your belly swollen. In bounding you to him.

Aemond

The truth is, you don't know why your brother behaves the way he does. All you know is that despite his refusal to admit it. He was terrified of losing you. Either it will be to his brother, his nephew, some lord, or that knight that you once gushed over. Aemond made himself your ‘protector’. Too focused on shielding you from anyone would take you away from him, when he should be shielding you from himself.

Whether at court or dinner, Aemond is your shadow, following you wherever you must go. Even if you cannot sense him, Aemond is close by. Your every move is under his watch, as he believes it is his duty to make sure you are safe and well. Even as he watches you undress and bathe.

In the hidden corners of the library, you are seated on your brother’s lap. Either sharing a book or having one of your own. If Aemond feels your attention straying, a slap is given to your inner thigh each time you do so. Even when your attention returns to the book, the hand is still on your thigh. His fingers gripping the skin as a warning.

Aemond has a habit of his fingers reaching for your mouth. Either to wipe away the remaining food or to stop your habit of biting your lip. These touches are not purely out of looking out for you. The thoughts that appear in the back of his head cause him to squint with lust. As he pulls down your lower lip with a light touch of his thumb. Resisting the ever needing urge to push his thumb between your lips.

He breathed into your scent. Whenever he would embrace you, he would press his face against your hair or neck. Everything that smelled like you-your clothes-your perfume was taken. It is a dishonorable, repulsive habit he will never admit to. Throwing the things into the fire once they no longer smell like you.

Your mother tried to stop you and Aemond from sleeping together in the same bed, and for a while, she believes she succeeded—had it not been for Aemond finding the hidden passages. Watching you sleep while slipping under the covers. The feelings of his overwhelming love and intense lust entwined. In his desire to kiss every inch of your skin and in his desire to bury his fingers between your legs.

He needed to fulfill his curiosities. Pulling the nightgown down enough to show him tits or pulling it up to show him your cunt. If only he could be satisfied by the sight. If only Aemond was a patient man. Drowning himself in your taste. Your eyes open. Feeling the twitching of your legs the and pressure in the pit of your stomach.

This makes something inside Aemond snap. Even if you were already fully aware of his desire before. All of the frustration that he has been building up suddenly surfaces to meet you. In how little you are left unable to walk. In all the marks scattered variously on your body. In how he stuffs your cunt to the brim with his seed.

Young Griff AKA Aegon

There was no one who loved you any more than your brother. Aegon so thoughtful, gentle, loving, and protective. All things a brother should be. Yet your brother harbors a flame of jealousy and possessiveness that he shows only to those he deems a ‘threat’. There was no forgetting of the such thoughts that roamed your brother’s mind. Leaving him feeling ashamed and guilty.

Everything was done together. Only when the need arose did you rarely separate from one another. At night, the two of you further shared a bed. A practice that Jon himself frowned upon. Where underneath the sheets Aegon clutches you tightly to him. Limbs entwined, his face buried in your neck. Where a devil sits on his shoulder whispering to him to commit the most sinful of sins.

Your brother would kiss you anytime and anywhere. Addicted to the feeling of your lips on his. It was such an intimate act, but Aegon told you it was alright for brothers and sisters to do such things. Even when his tongue stroked yours, even when the kiss lasts more than seconds, minutes even.

He loved leaning into your body. At the open fields, found resting his head on your lap. But he loved nothing more than resting his head on your chest. Cheek pressed to the fabric covering your skin. He hopes you don’t notice the way his face and hands inch closer to your tits. Or his constant movements brought on by the discomfort of his tightening trousers.

You two like to wrestle‌. Though it’s all in good fun, with Aegon making sure to be careful as possible. Laughs are heard as you roll around the ground. But it quickly becomes intimate. When he feels you pressed against him, straddling his waist. Aegon swallows, taking the risk by lightly rubbing his hips against yours all while looking you in the eye.

A quiet moan escapes your lips from the movement. And it gives him the encouragement to further continue, low moans also escaping him. He's all the more reassuring when you tell him how strange this makes you feel. Hands-on your waists to move your hips as well. When the two of you reach your high, the embarrassment slowly seeps in, feeling the mess in his trousers.

You really make it all the harder for him. Watching as you take off your clothes, exposing yourself to him, then beckoning for him to follow as you sprint off to the lake. Aegon does, never wanting to turn you down. It surprises you when he swims up to you and wraps his arms around you before giving you a passionate kiss that nearly took your breath. Unable to contain himself any longer, your brother confesses his sinful desires.

Aegon is tucked between your legs with his face buried in your neck as you have your back against the stone ground near the lakes. He repeatedly professes his love. All of this must be a dream. Finally having you under him. Having you be his, body and soul. He withheld himself from you long enough. Taking a bite of the forbidden fruit, forever addicted to the taste of it.

=================================

Taglist: @alanybunnuewrites @notyour-valentine @mrsgrwy @gulnarsultan @violet2507 @hisaran @caramelcandescence @aerysa-targaryen @lazyotakujen @lammys-thinking @delicioustomatoes @genesis-minigoddess @itsmenaty @cookiecrushs @tatortotqueen @fuck-the-reaper @wisdomsunshine @oneandonlyizabelle @stupendousbakeryflapbiscuit @darby-d-lestrange @daydreamsandcurses

#yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #yandere game of thrones #yandere asoiaf #hotd x reader #game of thrones x reader #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #young griff x reader #baelon targaryen x reader #viserys iii targaryen x reader #rhaegar targaryen x reader #maegor targaryen x reader #jaehaerys i targaryen x reader

3K notes · View notes

rottenpumpkin13 · 2 months

Note

An old acquaintance asked me, "what if Vincent Valentine is actually Clouds father?". We know Canon wise, that'll be impossible but fandom wise, how do you think that would go?

Depressed after Lucrecia's rejection and subsequent revelation of her pregnancy, Vincent seeks refuge in Nibelheim's local bar. There he meets a young waitress named Claudia whose encouragement and conversation offers a sort of comfort amidst everything going on back at the mansion.

Vincent's visits to the bar become a ritual of sorts, an escape from his duties. But it's not the allure of drinking that draws him, but rather the chance to see Claudia.

Vincent and Claudia's bond deepens, their romance unfolding with a security and tranquility that Vincent only wishes he had with Lucrecia.

He still grapples with unresolved feelings for Lucrecia and knows he's using what he has with Claudia as a means to heal the past.

Things start to go south when the experiment happens. Vincent finds himself at odds with Lucrecia over the experimentation. Their conversations—when Hojo allows them—are curt, with arguments and Lucrecia's instability driving a wedge between them.

Claudia falls pregnant with Cloud, and this is the final straw. Vincent decides he needs to focus on his child and family now, but he can't let go of the thought that Lucrecia and her child are fated for a life under Shinra and Hojo's control.

He confronts Hojo, which ends very very badly.

Claudia is left to her own devices with Vincent's sudden disappearance, her heart heavy with grief. Meanwhile, Vincent remains in that coffin, his absence leaving Cloud to grow up only hearing about his father when his mother is strong enough to unbury the past.

Cloud grows up hearing about Soldiers and The Turks, and upon learning that his father was one, he makes it his life goal to join them.

So he leaves for Midgar in search for traces of a father who's been right by him that whole time.

Eventually with Wutai, the Genesis copies, the Nibelheim fire, and everything that happened after he was experimented on by Hojo, Cloud ends up back in Nibelheim.

An eerie silence cloaks the room the moment Vincent and Cloud lay eyes on each other. Vincent knows the moment he lays eyes on him. He's the spitting image of his mother. Cloud knows the moment he learns Vincent's name.

Both men don't address the glaring revelation at hand immediately because of the larger stakes at hand. Everyone's focused on circumventing the situation with Sephiroth, Shinra and meteor.

Cloud knows why Vincent disappeared, and why he grew up without a father, so he doesn't blame Vincent for anything, so much as his anger with Shinra is doubled because its yet another thing they took from him.

But even so there's still moments when they want to say something, moments where Vincent wants to tell him, moments where Cloud's fragmented mind allows him a few moments of his childhood yearning, the desire to have his father back. But it's not the time for that.

Additionally, Vincent is starting to wonder. It's haunting him. Every time he sees Sephiroth and Cloud together, at each other's throats, he wonders.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #ff7 crisis core #ff7r #cloud strife #vincent valentine #AU #writing

85 notes · View notes

leavesfallensparse · 5 days

Text

Cigarettes & Wine | M. Healy | 2

'I think I'll put you in another song, a little glimpse of you before you're gone.'

In which Sadie and Matty can't seem to get along at all. They refuse to see eye-to-eye, but Sadie is starting to find Matty's annoyed face a bit too hot. When faced with conversations about feelings, Sadie can't help but want to run away from it all.

warnings: implied alcoholism, implied panic attack (not in a written scene), smut (unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering), lots of arguing, they both just spew shite at each other <3.

word count: 6.7k

authors note: lalalalala sadie matty smut lalalalala. so what it's angry (lowkey heartbreaking) smut, its still smut. i rlly had fun writing this and i am sorry for the angst <3 (not rlly x)

Sadie doesn’t think she’s ever felt anger like she’s feeling right now. The band had just gotten back to their flat after one of their more hectic shows, and George had obviously had the smart idea to go out after said show. Sadie missed out on this night out, feeling like her body was about to collapse inwards, but when the band returned home, loudly, she woke up and immediately seethed. Her anger worsened when she fully woke, she knew what was going on in Matty’s room due to them sharing a wall. Cheap flat means paper thin walls. As each day passes the urge to ask George to switch rooms with her grows.

The pornographic moans and groans paired with the bedframe that is just about banging her bedroom wall down is enough to make Sadie roll out of bed and leave her room with a huff. She almost regrets it when she sees Ross and George basically rolling on the kitchen floor trying to put a frozen pizza in the oven, Adam was standing over the pair just laughing at them. Sadie smirks but then when she hears another bang of Matty’s bedframe come from behind her she mutters a string of angry swear words under her breath. “What does she look like this time?” Is the sentence Sadie uses to make her presence known to the three drunk men in the kitchen.

The boys all look up at her with grimaces on their faces which makes Sadie run a hand down her own, she knows they all want to say “You.” Which makes her reconsider her entire career. She is subjecting herself to something comparable to torture day in, day out. Ever since Sadie had started point blank refusing him sex he was acting crazy, actively seeking out girls who have something in common with her looks wise. She had only started closing herself off because the band was starting to gain traction and she didn’t want anything to end in a messy enough manner for them both to risk their careers. It seemed like a lost cause with the way they were both acting though.

“It’s okay though, we’re having a pizza party.” Ross had somehow manoeuvred from the floor to Sadie’s side, leaning his entire body weight on her. She grunted and moved so the pair of them were leaning on the counter, she looked in his eyes at his extremely slurred words and wondered how he could be this drunk after only being out for two and a half hours. She shook her head with a smirk and snatched the pizza from George, forgetting how much of his weight that Ross was putting on her until he keeled over onto the floor with a giggle.

“Oh my god, Ross.” George pretty much collapses on top of Ross in a fit of drunken giggles and Sadie busies herself with setting the timer on the oven. When she turns around, Adam is stood with his arms open, and she smiles up at him and accepts his invitation for a cuddle. He starts swaying the pair and she can’t help but breathe out a laugh at the song he’s attempting to sing, Sadie has no idea what song he’s actually trying to sing. She tries to pull away when he starts swaying a bit too hard but before she knows it the four of them are on the floor struggling to breathe through their laughs.

When they all sit down on the couch to indulge in their pizza, Sadie hears a door open and close from the hallway. She can’t help the way her eyes roll into her skull, and she suddenly doesn’t want to finish her plate. The way he gets a glass of water, silently, pisses her off beyond belief. He grabs a slice of their pizza and heads back to his room with the water, he notices the silence when he walks in, but he chooses to not make a petty comment. When his bedroom door practically slams shut, Sadie lets out a breath she didn’t know she was even holding in. “George, can I sleep in your room?” He nods with a mouthful of pizza and Sadie heads to her room to grab her water bottle.

Sadie can’t sleep for George’s excessive snoring, he always fucking snores when he’s drunk. She gets up to fill her already empty water bottle with a sigh, a chill comes over her body when she opens the bedroom door, she immediately connects the dots when she sees Matty hanging out the living room window, cig in hand. She sighs and turns her back on him, flipping the tap to cold and turning it on, she hears him clearing his throat behind her and has to stifle the groan trying to escape her lips. “Bored of your girlfriend in there?”

Matty’s chuckle tastes bitter on his tongue, he despises her immaturity sometimes. When he doesn’t reply, she turns to him and when he gestures her over with his head she sighs, she can’t say no to him, and she loathes it. Sitting down next to him she takes his offer of a cigarette, he also forces the glass of wine he’s cradling into her hand, which she happily downs. He looks at her, she looks out the window. “Can’t sleep?”

“George won’t stop fucking snoring.” Matty smiles at that and hands her his lighter. She hands it back and inhales deeply when her cigarette is lit. The silence between them is the calmest silence they’ve sat in for at least three months, anytime the two have been forced in a room alone the tension has been so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Probably due to the fact they’ve not had sex in three months either. She can’t help but study his face, she hasn’t properly taken him in for a while, she tends to avoid him whenever they aren’t shouting at each other’s faces. He looks exhausted, the way his eyes are heavy set into his face and his mouth is nearly permanently in a frown are the telltale signs, this makes her frown. She leans onto his shoulder and lowers her voice to a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“What? What for?” She shrugs and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, an attempt to protect her from the cold breeze wafting in through the open window. Hesitating slightly, he leans his head against hers, his lips meeting her messy hair before he does so. She sighs and shuffles a bit closer, having sat at a decent distance from him originally. “Nothing to be sorry for, Sades. I’m sorry.”

“Well, what are you sorry for?”

“I’m not sure either.” At his lack of attempt to actually apologise, she hums, nothing has changed. This conversation isn’t progress.

“I should go back to bed.” Sadie feels Matty’s head shake on top of hers and she snickers slightly, raising her head to face him. Their faces are much closer than they were before which makes Sadie’s heart pick up in pace ever so slightly. She pretends that it doesn’t though. He tries to sneak a glance down at her slightly dry lips, but her eager eyes notice, and she instinctively leans in, she swears she does it without realising. Before she knows it his lips are on hers and every argument they’ve had recently has flown out of her head, replaced by the way his hand feels when it falls to her bare thigh, practically coaxing the goosebumps out of her. Matty pulls away first and Sadie shakes her head. “We can’t. Shouldn’t.”

Silencing her with another kiss, a squeeze on her thigh, and his tongue against her lips, Matty groans into her mouth, begging to be let in. She denies him entrance until his other hand tugs lightly at her hair, drawing involuntary moans from her mouth, gaining him entrance. Readjusting so he’s no longer sitting cross legged on the windowsill Matty drags Sadie by the hips on to his lap. She feels so dirty, Matty had gone from being inside the girl in his bedroom two hours ago to making out with Sadie in the living room, but a sick part of her likes knowing that he’ll always come back to her. The same sick part of her grinds down into Matty’s growing erection, revelling in the way his head thumps against the window behind him. “Fuck, Sades.”

“Did that girl not do it for you? She might look like me, but I bet she doesn’t fuck like me, hmm?” Her hands find the seam of her pyjama top, but she quickly feels him swatting her hands away, wanting to take her top off himself. Doing so with fervour, his lips ghosting her nipples, blowing hot air over them and giving her reaction a sick smile. When his mouth closes around her nipple, a low groan ripples through her throat, she feels the need to get his clothes off of him as soon as possible. “Matty, please.”

“You’re filth. Desperate to fuck me when I’ve got a girl waiting for me.” Matty’s words hit Sadie right in her core, writhing on his lap, desperate for friction. The thin material of Matty’s boxers paired with the lacey material of Sadie’s panties was sending her wild, the feeling against her heat is delicious but she’s growing bored of it. He lifts his hips in a frenzy to rid himself of one of two clothing items keeping them apart, at the rapid friction Sadie moans loudly and squeezes her eyes closed. Letting out a dry laugh, Matty shifts her on his lap, her eyes cast down to his length and her hand automatically wrapped around it, like it was muscle memory. “No, need to be inside you. Won’t last long.”

Sadie feels like her lungs are being squeezed with how breathless she is, frantically shuffling her panties down her legs. Takes himself in one hand, Matty lines himself up and grabs one of Sadie’s hands with the other, she squeezes it as he pushes into her, a whine scraping the inside of her throat before tearing out of her mouth. Matty lets go of her hand and sticks two of his fingers into her open mouth, hissing at her, “You’ve got to be quiet, Sades.”

Whining around his fingers, Sadie bucks her hips into his harshly, Matty lets out a sound akin to a growl. She stops and raises an eyebrow at him, brutally shoving two fingers in his mouth. Feeling his mouth forming into a smirk around her fingers at her smug face, he starts fucking up into her to break her mean demeanour. The way her eyes roll into her head spurs him on, his pace relentless, his tongue licking up and down her fingers to match the pace of his savage thrusts. An urge to hear the noises that Matty clearly wants to make takes over Sadie’s brain, so she rips her fingers out of his mouth and sticks it on his knee behind her, leaning back in his lap to feel him hit her deeper inside. “Can fucking feel you squeezing me, so tight, missed this.”

The fake pout takes over her face without her permission, “Really meant it when you said you wouldn’t last long. Pathetic, I’m not even close.” She’s playing it up and he knows it from the way she tenses her thighs and squeezes his knee until her knuckles turn white. But Matty takes her words as the truth, holding himself off from finishing inside her, picking her up and throwing her onto the couch. Moaning at the way he man-handled her, Sadie can feel the loss of him inside her like he’d just ripped her arm from her torso, her blissed out face was quickly replaced by a glare at the two fingers re-entering her mouth, scowling as his hips snapped back into hers. When he leans down to give her neck an open-mouthed kiss, she snaps around his fingers, into his ear. “Fuck you.”

“I am.” The words uttered into her pliable skin make her arch her back into him. She hates the way he knows her body like he worships upon it everyday on the hour, almost as though he had studied her every atom under a microscope in a lab. Lifting one of her legs over his shoulder, she whimpers at the deeper angle, her walls flutter around him and she can feel the stutter of his hips. “Your filthy cunt is fucking sucking me in. You’re like some kind of witch. Come on, give it to me, Sades, fucking hell.” Staring down at the way a string of saliva connects her mouth to his fingers when he pulls them out at a tantalisingly slow pace gives him an idea. “Open your mouth.”

The compliant side of her does so immediately, moaning at the way his spit crawls down her tongue, he nods, she swallows. The wetness of his fingers immediately reaches between her folds and finds her clit, matching the pace of his persistent thrusts. Her left hand scrapes his spine and her right hand rips at his hair. She loathes the way his hands make her fold, feeling her climax take over her entire soul, her eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. “I fucking hate you so much.”

The tone in which she utters this word has him spilling inside her with a pained groan. The pair hold each other tightly as they both hit their peak, Sadie comes down almost immediately from the way Matty rides out his high inside her, she hisses from the overstimulation. “Fucking hell.” His body collapses on top of hers and she whines at the scraping feeling she feels inside. “Pull out, please.” A muttering of a few more swear words from her mouth pulls him from the cloud he’s found himself on, ripping himself from her. The boy inside of him peers down at the sight of his release spilling from her, she groans and steadies herself at the thought of standing up and cleaning herself up.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Her eyes fixate on the torn up skin of his back as he pulls his boxers back on and sneaks into the bathroom. When he emerges, he smirks at Sadie’s sleeping figure on the couch, her deep-set eyes gently fluttering as she gives in, her dark eyelashes resting upon the cheeks. The one word ringing in his mind, beautiful, is giving him a headache. He rubs at her bare thigh in a soft attempt to wake her up, between whispers of different variants of her name. “Just cleaning you up, darling.” She gently whines and rolls over.

“Why are you asleep on the couch?” George is hanging over her like a bad smell, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow, she groans and pushes his face away with a stretch. The sudden memories of the previous night climb into her brain and start to take over, sneaking a glance down, she smirks at the sight of the cushions propped up gently and her clothes on her body. The slight bliss that was beginning to take over her being is interrupted by an unrecognisable, shrill laugh at the kitchen island. George silently communicates at her to keep her mouth shut.

“Morning, Sades! Bacon roll?” At Matty’s chipper tone, George knows all he needs to know, cradling his forehead in his hand. She snorts and sits up, finally getting a look at the girl who was clearly not good enough for Matty. Sadie would describe the girl as ‘nice’, nothing more and nothing less. She looks nice. Matty doesn’t like nice. The other two boys are sat at the kitchen island too, stuffing bacon in their mouths like it’s going to make their hangovers magically disappear. Sadie circles round the couch to stand behind Ross, giving Matty a curt nod before sitting on the last spare seat, right next to this unknown girl.

“I’m Sadie. Who are you?” Adam covers his laugh with a cough, George groans into his hand, Ross is blissfully unaware, and Matty has to stop himself from whipping around to shout at the girl. The poor, innocent girl looks round at Sadie like she’d just shot her dog. A shit eating grin overtakes her mouth, smiling up at Matty as he places a bacon roll in front of her. “Thank you very much! Smells so good!” The tone of her voice makes Adam’s laugh finally escape his mouth, when Miss Unknown turns to him, brows furrowed, he panics.

“Oh, we have fun here.” Sadie opts for taking a bite so none of her laughter sneaks out. What a shit excuse, Adam.

“I’m Daisy, it’s, erm, nice to meet you?” No words. Sadie has no words. Daisy is basically Sadie rearranged. She politely nods at Daisy and turns to face forward in her seat, no longer wanting to interact with anyone. She feels a dull ache in her chest as she watches the way Matty talks to Daisy, a miniscule part of her brain is begging him to look at her. He doesn’t, instead turning back to the pan and humming a merry tune. Sadie is practically snarling at his back, knowing that her very nails have left marks on the hidden skin. That’s all it is. Hidden. Matty clearly has a sudden thought with the way his movements stop.

“Want any sauce, darling?” Sadie doesn’t know what happened, she’ll claim to have blacked out.

“No thanks, Matty.” Her eyes widen. Daisy nearly chokes on her breakfast, poor girl. As if on auto-pilot, Sadie’s feet drag her to her bedroom, completely abandoning her breakfast. She’s sure they all heard the scream she forced into her pillow.

The moon is the only thing lighting up Sadie’s room, the hopeful gleam staring right in her window. The Smashing Pumpkins ‘Oceania’ is humming into her ears as she edits a few photos from the night before, specifically avoiding the ones of Matty. A gentle knock on her door rips her from her daydream, pulling her eyes from the moon she murmurs a “Come in.”, shutting her laptop and turning round in her chair. But the sight of the man she’s avoiding draws a silent groan from her throat, she turns away.

“Hi. Can we talk?” He’s grovelling and she doesn’t know why. When met with silence he keeps talking. “We can’t keep dancing around this, it’s starting to hurt me. I can’t fucking look at you without wanting something from you, anything. I just want a sign of life, Sades.” She stares back out the window, wishing she lived in a house alone on the moon. But no, she’s here, face to face with everything wrong with her. All she knows how to do is shake her head.

“I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t have anything to say to you.” The way he takes a deep breath as he sits down on her bed makes her panic a bit, she knows that he’s about to hurt her feelings. It was just the honest truth, she didn’t have anything to say to him, what words could possibly come out of her mouth that he’d want to hear. Not a single thought in her head is something that should be said out loud to him.

“No, Sadie. What do you want from me? I am fucking sick of you, the sight of you, the way you’ll speak to the boys with no fucking malice in your tone, what did I do to you? And, what? Every two months you want me to fuck you and have it not mean anything? I can’t stand to be in your fucking presence everyday anymore, it’s draining me.” She zones out slightly, trying to will the lump in her throat to go away. Nothing that he had said warrants tears because he is also telling the honest truth.

“We’ve ruined it. Been friends eight years and fucking ruined it.” Shaking her head with a wet laugh she lets it fall to rest on her knee, a single tear slipping out. “Can’t believe there was a time we got on. Now you’re just horrible to me.” Bitter laughter takes over her ears and another tear falls. And another. Lifting her head she writes down the words, ‘wishing you could forget the present you’re living in’, in the notebook on her desk. The notebook is just full of shit, mostly angry shit, recently.

“You’re the horrible one. One day someone snapped their fingers and you turned on me. I can’t fuck around with you anymore, you’ve changed, and it makes me sick. To my stomach. And calling me horrible? Whatever.”

“You’re still talking if you weren’t aware.”

“Yes I was. Wasn’t done either.” Standing up and gesturing wildly, his bitter tongue still talks. She’s reduced to a pile of sobs on her desk chair, just watching, unable to make it stop. “I also find it quite frankly hilarious that you’re the first one to tell people that I’m the ‘worst person you’ve ever met’, it wasn’t that when we were shagging everyday four years ago.” Sadie sniffs a laugh at this, he’s contradicting himself by saying ‘she’s changed’ one second, then referencing a time Sadie actually liked him. “Oh! Another thing, telling George that I’m the only one you don’t say ‘I love you’ to is so strange. I’d like an explanation.” Walking over to her until he’s hanging over her, she has to look up and face his snarl. “Why? Why don’t you love me. I think you do and you’re just fucking scared of me, pathetic, by the way. I think you realised years-”

She interrupts him, unable to control the angry scream ripping from the depths of her lungs. “Stop! Just fucking stop! Get the fuck away from me.” He stills and cocks an eyebrow. “GO.”

A slam of a door and tears coming out in screams is all that’s heard through the flat.

The next time Matty’s on stage doing what he loves, he isn’t sure he actually loves it anymore. He’s considering hiring a new photographer. Sadie’s been dancing round his feet all night, apparently unable to take a single photo of Matty, she’s taken more photos of Adam tonight than she probably ever has. The way in which he is performing is growing slightly more aggressive, standing on the stage, seething, unable to do anything about it. Could you imagine what the crowd would think if he started shouting at his photographer mid-show?

She smirks as she comes round the back to take a couple photos of George, he shakes his head at her, and she lets out a laugh. Shrugging her shoulders as if she’s done nothing wrong, she quickly realises that coming onto the stage to take photos was a mistake, Matty turns his back on the crowd briefly and whispers in her ear, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What? Nothing? My job.” Turning back to the crowd with a scoff he keeps singing, Sadie takes a couple photos of the view from the back of the stage, looking out into the mass of people, she smiles at her camera knowing it’ll be a good shot. Exiting the stage from the left hand side she takes a minute to look through a couple of the photos she’s taken as she sips from her water bottle. The events manager approaches her and smiles.

“Why aren’t you taking as many photos of Matty?” The way her sickly sweet voice punctures Sadie’s ears makes her cringe a little bit. But she hides it with a returned smile in her direction and turns her body slightly towards her. Taking in her professional outfit she hides a laugh, how she’s not sweating is one of the wonders of the world. The way she was very clearly flirting with Matty before the show had pissed her off and Sadie knew she was only asking because she wanted to see photos of Matty.

“Don’t worry about it.” Walking all the way to the back of the hall with no more words said, Sadie scoffs when she’s no longer in hearing distance. Shaking her head she snaps a few more pictures before heading back to the dressing rooms, hearing the band finish the show she busies herself with looking through photos. She likes to pretend she doesn’t exist after the boys finish a show, they also like to pretend she doesn’t exist, mostly high on adrenaline. Since people had started taking the band more seriously, the energy at their shows has increased tenfold. So has their egos but Sadie never makes comment on it. Hearing the stomps of Matty down the halls has her realising that pretending she doesn’t exist isn’t an option today.

“What the fuck was that? You’re embarrassing yourself.” Slamming the door behind him, leaving just the two of them in the dressing room, Sadie rolls her eyes. She watches on as he grabs a wine glass and pours from the bottle, he takes a sip and groans, shaking his head. When their eyes meet, Sadie curls into herself a bit, intimidated. “Just utterly pathetic.”

“What’s pathetic? Me not wanting to see your face? Did you forget the things you said to me? Or are you going to blame that as a ‘heat of the moment’ thing like you always do?” The slam of his glass on the table makes her jump and he turns to her with nothing but malice in his eyes.

“No, you should be able to hold a level of professionalism that allows you to do your job no matter how you actually feel, Sadie. You’ve always managed to photograph me even if I have been in the wrong, but not today. I’m calling you pathetic because I thought you were more mature than you actually are. Turns out I was fucking wrong, hmm?” Matty is leaning over her, pointing a finger down at her. She stands up to defend herself.

“Actually, I think that you speak to me like I’m a piece of shit on the bottom of your shoe and then expect me to carry myself professionally when in reality just the sight of your face makes me want to punch it. And oh, I’ll just carry on taking my silly little pictures and pretend you don’t come off that stage and hurt my feelings. Every. Single. Day.”

“Oh, I hurt your feelings? Fuck off, Sadie.” With this he leaves the dressing room and slams the door behind him so hard that Sadie sees the mirror on the wall shake a bit. She has to hold her laugh in when he comes back in for the bottle of wine. She really struggles to hold it back when George comes in and gives her a look like she’s dumb.

“What?” When George just laughs at her she laughs too. She grabs the second bottle of wine from the table and takes pleasure in drinking straight from it. “Genuinely what was I supposed to do? Let him keep treating me like this?” George leans onto her shoulder when he sits down, his voice is sympathetic, and Sadie is having none of it.

“You could’ve gone about it a bit nicer.”

“Why would I be ‘a bit nicer’ after all he’s done to me?”

“Yeah, you’re right, fuck him.” With that George takes the bottle and starts drinking from it too.

They’ve somehow ended up in a sleazy bar in Soho, they’d played just round the corner at some hall Sadie can’t remember to name. Matty’s still pissed, Sadie is very drunk, some would call this a recipe for disaster, George would call this a recipe for entertainment. Sadie has linked eyes with a notably cute guy a couple of times this evening, but she’s waiting for him to be the gentleman and make the first move to speak. As Adam stands up to get the next round she hears laughter from behind her and sees Matty flirting with some girl. She turns to Adam, “Get me a vodka shot, too.”

Adam really shouldn’t be encouraging her to drink anything that strong, but after clocking on to what Matty was doing he immediately adds it to the list of drinks he’s ordering. When it slides in front of her it’s down her throat practically before it’s even stopped sliding her direction. Ross grips her arm and laughs but she pays no mind to him, distracted by the bitter taste in her mouth, she’d be convinced the bitter taste wasn’t coming from the liquor. Eyeing the way Matty’s arm slings around the girl and his shoulders look slightly less tense she turns to search the crowd of people, looking for the guy who was eye-fucking her earlier. She leaps out the barstool when she sees him, throwing everything about wishing he was gentlemanly out the window. “Hi, I’m Sadie.”

“Theo, nice to meet you. I was gonna come over in a bit but here you are, like a dream in front of me.” Sadie laughs probably louder than she should’ve at this, hand coming down on his arm. At this Theo notices the lack of drink in her hand and rests a hand on her lower back, “Shall we go get you something to drink? On me, of course.” She lets him lead her back to all her friends, narrowly avoiding them as he leans over the bar to order her an espresso martini. She does not like espresso martinis.

“Thank you. I noticed your accent, Australian, right? What are you doing in England?” The small talk flows quite freely between the two as they exchange careers and anecdotes, Sadie finds it easy to talk to him. Not as easy as any of her actual friends but it’s good enough. She has to hold her breath anytime she takes a drink but they’re free, so she isn’t saying anything. Matty catches her eye for the first time since being distracted by the girl on his lap, when he catches a glimpse of the blonde boy standing next to her he shakes his head. She scowls at him and turns back to the boy, a bit closer than she was before.

“Do you wanna get out of here? Maybe back to my hotel?” Sadie doesn’t really hear him, she sees Matty shaking her head at something the girl is saying and when she starts shouting at him Sadie knows he’d just been asked the same question she has. Matty makes fleeting eye contact with her, making a look that reads ‘I dare you’. Turning back to Theo she nods her head, smiling up at the smug look on his face, shoving his arm slightly. She finishes her drink with a slight gag and grips onto his arm as he leads her out the front.

“How far is your hotel?” She’d love to know why she feels guilty.

Sadie’s sitting on the doorstep to their flat building with mascara staining her cheeks. When she’d gotten back to Theo’s hotel she experienced something akin to a panic attack and basically ran out of there, he’d chased her just to make sure she was okay and when all she said was, “It isn’t your fault,” he knew that it was the other guy from the bar holding her back, the one from her friend group, “I just have to get back to my flat.”

Feeling nothing less than mortified, she couldn’t bring herself to go in, so she was sitting smoking on the doorstep with the entire evening playing on a loop in her head. Dropping her head to her knees with a sigh she let one more tear fall before putting out her cig with her shoe and opening the door behind her. When she opens the door to the flat she’s met with silence, unsure if anyone’s home until she hears George snoring and a strum of a guitar in the room next to hers. Upon realising he’s the only other person awake she admits defeat and heads to her own room.

After brushing her teeth in the bathroom and grabbing water and some painkillers from the kitchen, she opens her bedroom door to Matty standing, staring down at her. Shutting the door behind her she looks up at him with a fixed glare, silently wishing he’d brush past her and shut the door so she could sleep. But no, as she shuts the door behind her she finds herself slammed against it. “You’re so fucking pathetic, Sades.” It might be the slight buzz she still feels in her head, but his words paired with his hands on her hips hit her right in her core, feeling like her head is about to float right off her shoulders.

“Matty, you’re just here to fuck with my head.” She really tried to make her words believable but the way she trails off into a whine makes it seem quite the opposite. The way in which her body always reacts to him the way he wants will forever make her angry, staring up at him trying to keep her glare steady on her face. It proves hard when Matty’s face moves down to her neck, attacking it with his lips, practically taunting her by the way he leans back up to swallow the moan that leaves her mouth.

She fights her body, trying her hardest to not kiss him back, but the way his tongue is licking into her mouth makes her desperate for anything he’ll give her. “Think you can just go fuck anyone, hmm? You’re wrong, angel. Belong to me, don’t you?” The scowl that takes over her features makes him smirk down at her. “Pretty when you’re angry. Gonna let me show you who you belong to?” She doesn’t want to nod but of course her body is doing things without her brains consent. To be fair said brain is actively turning to mush and melting out of her ears.

“Matty, please. Hurting my head.” After a quick glance up from her neck, he realises she doesn’t mean that literally, but instead she means that his actions are confusing her. He’s too in the moment to care, dragging her to the bed to put her out of her misery. The feeling of the mattress on her back makes her sigh in pleasure, he smirks down at her, working his hands under her, way too big, jumper as he hovers over her, moving down at a teasingly slow pace. She writhes on the bed until his hands take a strong grip of her hips, dragging them to the bottom of the bed before holding her in place as he kisses from her knee to her thigh. “Fuck, why do you always come crawling back to me? Just told me you can’t fuck me anymore.”

“I can’t get enough.” Letting go of her hips to move her panties down her thighs, her hands whip to his hair as she feels a puff of cold air blown onto her clit, her heart stopping in her chest at the feeling. He growls into her dripping cunt, licking a stripe up it before feeling her thighs squeeze his face, moving his hands round them to keep them apart. “Be good. Keep quiet. Maybe I’ll let you cum.” The whine that leaves her mouth is involuntarily and goes against what he’d just said, she knows she’s fucking in for it now.

Lowering her voice to a whisper she leans up onto her elbows, “Matty, do something.” Brown eyes looking into her blue ones with a teasing glint he gives her another kitten lick and her elbows give out on her, back arching from the mattress. The teasing pace of his tongue is making the whole ‘keep quiet’ thing impossible for Sadie, her entire fist is in her mouth at this point and her brain is wondering where on earth he learned how to do this. Sure, he’s eaten her out many times before, but this is her first time realising how good at it he’d gotten. “Please, stop teasing.”

Humming into her wetness, he ponders on whether he should give her more or not. Does she deserve it? “Me stop teasing you? Oh, angel. Take your own advice.” Something about the way she whimpers spurs him on to, in fact, stop teasing. Giving in to her immediately, his tongue finds her clit and picks up the pace by the most miniscule amount. Unwrapping one of his hands from her thigh, his fingers find her entrance, ever teasing, but finding their way in after she hisses down at him to stop.

When he parts for a breather Sadie can see her slick on his chin and the sight brings out something carnal in her. She grabs his chin and pulls him up to her level, smashing their lips together as if they’re running out of time. Pulling away from her, Matty looks down at her, jaw slightly slack. “Like tasting yourself? What do you want, angel? Speak to me.” His digits still slipping deeper into her makes it incredibly difficult for her to formulate words, after whining at him and being met with a cocked eyebrow, she manages.

“Want you.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Just fuck me, Matty.” He doesn’t relent. Hands speeding up, kisses draped across her neck, his other hand finding it’s way up her jumper, squeezing her tits. Determined to pull at least one orgasm from her before giving in to what she wants. He groans into her neck when he feels how tight she’s squeezing his two fingers. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Let go then, angel. Give it to me, all over my fingers, gonna make a mess?” Frantically nodding, she feels her brain fading away into nothingness before his lips wrap around hers. Laying still, not kissing back, her orgasm takes over her being, Matty practically chews her moans with his teeth as if they were tangible. With a whine she rips his hand from between her thighs and finally gives in to the feeling of his lips on hers, kissing back with fervour. He pulls away to glance at his fingers, smothered in her arousal, the sight alone would’ve made him hard if he wasn’t already. Opening her mouth without having to be told to, she takes his two fingers into her mouth, sucking tiredly at them. “You tired?” Taking his hand out of her mouth to hear her reply, he smiles down at her blown out pupils.

“Fuck me, please.” Sometimes she can’t help but make the same mistakes.

Sadie had woken up hours ago. Some sick part of her is forcing her to stay in bed, under his arms, in his t-shirt. There’s an air of domesticity surrounding the pair, the way his dark eyelashes flutter slightly in his sleep has Sadie enamoured. Silently wishing things could be easier, with a sigh. Her brain starts to ponder on where things went wrong, and who might’ve been at fault, when she didn’t like the conclusion she came to she shut her eyes. Matty must’ve felt the way her body shook slightly, waking up slowly with a long stretch. “What you crying for?”

“I don’t know.” He squeezes his arms slightly tighter around her and wipes a tear from her cheek, unable to stop the concerned expression from taking over his features. Rubbing a soothing hand down her back, he shushes her until she’s calm, looking down at her slightly with an encouraging glint in his eye. “I just feel shit about the point we’ve gotten to. Wish we were 16 again.”

“Angel, don’t feel shit. I’ve been a dick to you recently and I’m sorry, I just don’t know how to speak to you anymore.” Sadie nods against his arm at his words, the soft smile taking over his face makes her feel at home. He looks like he’s 18 again in the mornings. It makes Sadie feel a bit sick.

“I don’t know how to speak to you either. We’ve spent everyday together for as long as I can remember, but it’s like you changed without me realising.” Matty hanging off of every word she says enhances the sick feeling in her stomach and she looks away from him. Grabbing her water from the bedside table she cradles her headache with her other hand and hears Matty laughing at her from behind. Putting her water back down she hits his chest and stands up. “I can’t have this conversation with you. I think I need to fucking find my own place. Then Ross and Adam can actually have their own rooms instead of being forced to share. Think it would be best for everyone.” Being met with a head of curls frantically shaking, she sighs.

“You can’t.”

“I will. Watch me.”

#dont ask why it took me so long to write this #sadie can do no wrong btw #matty healy #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy smut #cigs&wine #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #writing #george daniel #ross macdonald

90 notes · View notes

hastyprovocateur · 3 months

Text

I have seen many calling Akemi an annoying brat for running away from her father's guardianship. And I laud their critical thinking abilities on this because really, why would a girl whose father is forcing her to marry a stranger openly known for being a sadist and killing his first wife over an unhappy marriage want to do anything but jump gleefully into the union, right? Especially when all Akemi's father has to say for her life-or-death situation is "Hey learn these sex positions and keep him happy like your dead mother kept me happy lol."

Akemi loved Taigen for a set of reasons. First and foremost, he was the path she chose and finally got her father to agree with in part for his honorable stature, aware that Taigen, though imperfect, isn't as cruel or selfish as men in said period typically were. You have to understand that women were rarely afforded the choice to love without having underlying motivations. They have to choose the lesser of evils. Which in this case, is Taigen. Akemi has far greater chances of survival with him than any other man she knew. Marriage wasn't a tic-tac-toe game for her, she was ensuring her survival. To ensure she wouldn't get violated or killed or tortured or forcefully impregnated for not falling into the narrow set of rules aristocratic women especially had to follow.

Come to Taigen and Mizu's duel following which he loses his honour and possibly his engagement. Akemi stayed undeterred because regardless of what Taigen felt about his honour, Akemi didn't have a backup option that she knew would ensure her security as much as being with Taigen would. She tells him that his chonmage being cut is no obstacle as he can style it to suit other noble men, that she will convince her father to maintain their engagement and that his honour was intact as Mizu hadn't officially challenged him. Her sexual advances are a calculated move, she narrates to him a version of events where he defeats Mizu to massage his bruised ego. And while Taigen is her singular route out of her imminent marriage to a stranger, Taigen, ignorant of the same, claims he'd rather commit seppuku and sets out to trail Mizu.

With Taigen gone, she is in deep water, and naturally, her father quickly sets her up with a fresh suitor from a family he chose for the sake of furtherance of his political expansion over any concern for his daughter's life. When she tries to escape, Seki sees it as another funny haha situation, making it a teachable moment where he profoundly tells Akemi, already fearful of her bodily autonomy and life: that a woman has 2 paths "to be an improper whore or a proper wife." To which Akemi very wisely responds that they are one and the same thing, only one is shrouded with aristocratic niceties and huge houses that women are an extension of. Regardless of her (father's) wealth, status, and relative comfort in life, no woman deserves to be put in a position of ownership under a man, vulnerable to assault, coercion, intimidation just because "at least she'll be assaulted on a nice bed."

Akemi wasn't enjoying her round trip searching for Taigen, selling herself out to flesh traders and getting betrayed by Seki, her confidante, for funsies. Seki had seen her plight and only given her the singular choice to be a proper wife to a stranger after Taigen had already left her to her own fate. She was still determined to do right by him because she wanted to live. Her seeking out Mizu was key to saving her marriage. Thereby trying to drug and bring Mizu to Taigen so she could restore his honor and go back on their engagement and live somewhat peacefully. Which we now know wasn't going to ever be because Daichi Tokunobu had already schemed to compromise the Shogunate by wagering his daughter as an alliance.

I am convinced that most people can't understand complex female characters outside of "ruthless. fighter" or "perfect victim." Akemi's fault, it seems, that through her process of running from a dangerous marriage, a callous father, getting brokered by Goro, joining Kaji's brothel, seducing her first client, trying to subdue Mizu is that she didn't get brutally violated in any of scenarios. Because I'm sure if she had, not half of y'all would be crying about her being annoying and bratty or "having it too easy." As for her trying to attack Mizu, what else was she supposed to do? Be told that this stranger robbed her fiance's honor, ruined their engagement, and killed him, and what? Pat him on the back? Or was she supposed to have a prophetic vision that Mizu is going to save them from Hamata's men?

And no she did not resort to name calling, abusing, threatening after she was tied down, she was far more benign in assessing Mizu's disposition as opposed to Mikio or Taigen who straight up called Mizu monster, dog, beggar, scavenger and what not. Mikio sold Mizu's favourite horse to get back at her, abandoned her for the bounty hunters to get her, killed her mama. Taigen was a bully who accused her of digging through his trash and near damn killed her with a rock with his friends. Yeah, him being a kid makes no difference to the one who was traumatised because that'll last Mizu a lifetime. In both cases Mizu posed no threat to them as opposed to Akemi who truly believed that Mizu had killed her fiancé.

Taigen continued to be a bully in the present time (growth in latter eps aside), calling Mizu a dog, monster boy, whore mother, scavenger of Kohama's gutters, reminding her of her house burning down. He stalked her, threatened her to duel, gave her consistent trauma reminders. Oh btw- Akemi called Mizu "nothing special" and "angry" and yall decide she has mentally abused this woman after knowing her for a good 3 hours. Yall fr just hate women.

She didn't know about Kinuyo either, or anything about Mizu's past. Despite only knowing her in the worst way, she largely softens towards Mizu knowing she's helping save Kaji's workers. She could've easily stayed tight and comfy in the cellar. She doesn't know a thing about fighting yet stands by Ringo and later saves him. Not for her sake because she says "Now they have to get through the both of us." She didn't fear death either, only being helpless. "I'm not brave" she said "I've been a captive my whole life. If I die today, I die free."

She didn't stop there "Mizu can't possibly hold them all off" and then goes up to save Mizu when the assassins attested that "The samurai has been cornered." And yes Mizu was unconscious from being choked until Akemi intervened. She just had to stay low like the others and not give a FUCK, especially not Mizu, someone who shittalked her as far as she knew, but she did because she saw the honour in Mizu's actions.

Unfortunately, Akemi didn't magically mind read Mizu's ptsd and all the flashbacks she's been getting about her past betrayals, what happened with Kinuyo and made the mistake of trusting Mizu, WHO SHE THINKS IS A MAN, to fight for her when the guards come. All but 3 men. This isn't about numbers because Mizu totaled an army and has the plot armour of Jesus, it's not about being innocent, because Mizu killed that clawed dude she spared initially, not to mention Kinuyo who was just a means to get to Fowker. And some people talked about Mizu not wanting Daichi's men coming after her... um... are you sure you're watching the same show because as far as I know Mizu doesn't give a flying FUCK about being careful or who comes after her because she's recklessly creating collateral all down her path of revenge. That's the wholeass point.

Akemi wasn't ordering Mizu around, cuz she asked "I'm not going anywhere, right Mizu?" She wanted her approval, her support in that moment. To fight for her because she doesn't have the agency to fight for herself. What did Mizu do in this crucial moment? She doomed Akemi to an arranged marriage and made her choice FOR her. Especially being someone who's always been shown to do exactly what she wants and then fight whatever consequences come her way.

Mizu "thought" Akemi's better off with being married to a stranger because "atleast the abuser is rich, not everyone gets a rich abuser." And yes she assumed hella things because Akemi's reasons for chasing Taigen are literally so she can live by an iota of her choice and not because she's "begging to eat trash." And Mizu didn't consider the reputation of the Shogun's son, regardless of if he's a horrible person, how is being forced to marry a stranger justified?? Another day, another man Akemi trusted, dooming her to a path with no cognizance of how much apprehension of death or joyless life she actually faces in that position.

Mizu was no different from Daichi, Seki, Taigen in that moment. Akemi had no one. Despite doing all in her power to turn her fate, she was unsuccessful because she wasn't able to physically fight for herself and no one chose to step up for her. She was about to solve her own problems by throwing herself off the balcony, evident in how much she didn't desire the marriage. Takayoshi not being an outright brute chauvinistic killer is no justification for "hey didn't turn out to be so bad, huh." Would you rather she have gotten brutalised? Been treated like absolute shit? Would you then believe how scary the marriage could have been for her? Kaji herself told Mizu that "if you killed every man I've seen who couldn't come till someone bled... you'd wear your blade to a stump."

Ringo was justified in criticising Mizu. While Mizu doesn't care about anyone in her path of revenge, Eiji, her own father figure struggles to teach her that she NEEDS people to fight. To strengthen her blade and resolve. Mizu did return to save Akemi as her conscience would have it, Seki also came around and Taigen was finally ready to pursue a life with her over his honor and greatness but it was too late. I don't blame Akemi for asserting twice to Mizu that "We're not friends which Mizu showed too in her actions prior. I don't see it as Akemi being ungrateful but asserting the truth before Mizu slams it in her face. Mizu doesn't want friends so she doesn't get any.

I also don't blame her for rejecting Taigen, I too wouldn't ever wish to be blindsided like that again. It's better to choose your own reality than rely on love or friendship only to get betrayed. As for Akemi's new venture, I laud her for taking Kaji's word and to fight with the agencies she has even though I feel that Kaji shared Mizu's tone deafness in terms of seeing Akemi's (father's and now husband's) wealth as a neutralizer to the abuse she could face which could've been much worse than it was shown to be.

I do agree that having free choice, even after Seki tells her to pursue her own path, is a tad too idealistic for the place and time. She basically just complied to the choices Seki, Taigen, Mizu's made for her. So I loved seeing Akemi make the best of the cards she was dealt, choosing to use her body and mind to seduce, manipulate and progress. To make her choices whether she is loved in the process or not. . To exploit her meek husband's position, to subdue her scheming (now hopefully crispy) father and be great.

#don't speak on my girl unless it's praise #bes akemi #akemi blue eye samurai #mizemi #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x akemi #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai mizu #taigen blue eye samurai #hasty loves bes

95 notes · View notes

witchthewriter · 1 month

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆

ENTJ

Slytherin

Lawful Good / Neutral Good

Capricorn Sun, Cancer Moon, Libra Rising

The Mentor: A wise and experienced character who guides and advises the hero, providing knowledge, skills, and guidance.

The Cunning Strategist: this character is known for their intelligence, sharp wit, and ability to manipulate situations to their advantage. They excel in political maneuvering and outsmarting their opponents.

The Fallen Hero: The Fallen Hero archetype represents a character who was once noble or heroic but has fallen from grace. They may have succumbed to their flaws, made tragic mistakes, or been corrupted by power. The Fallen Hero often grapples with guilt, redemption, or the desire to reclaim their former glory.

I will always see John as some type of leader. A leader of a wolf pack, or the King's Guard. Even a team of immortals. His task force would shift between each universe, but his station always stays the same. Price is the eldest and the leader of the men.

𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑹𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒚

INTJ

Ravenclaw

Neutral Good

Capricorn Sun, Scorpio Moon, Virgo Rising

The Guardian: A character who protects or defends a person, place, or idea, often serving as a source of strength and support. I can see him taking stray kids under his wing, and taking care of them.

The Knight: Is a character archetype in stories that embodies chivalry, honor, and a strong sense of duty. I think the strong sense of duty is most previlent here. I think he would even be the King's Champion.

The Rebel: A character who challenges authority, norms, or societal expectations, often seeking change or liberation. After seeing all the pain and suffering from the villagers/those less fortunate around him, he would snap. Wanting to help them.

Simon reminds me of both Geralt and Sandor Clegane. I think he would do well both within a group setting (with his teammates) or going out and doing something indepedently.

𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝑻𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒉

ESFP

Ravenclaw

Neutral Good / Chaotic Good

Aquarius Sun, Taurus Moon, Sagittarius Rising

The Trickster: A mischievous and cunning character who uses wit and deception to achieve their goals or disrupt the plans of others.

The Wise Fool: The Wise Fool archetype is a character who appears foolish or simple-minded on the surface but possesses unexpected wisdom or insight. They often use humor and unconventional behavior to challenge social norms, offer unique perspectives, or deliver profound truths.

The Loyal Companion: The Loyal Companion archetype is a faithful and devoted ally to the protagonist. They offer unwavering support, loyalty, and may serve as a moral compass or voice of reason.

I think Johnny is a bit of a difficult one, because he's both humorous - which can place him in the archetype of jokester & comedic relief. But maybe thast just makes him ... a wild card? Hence I think that' why people often give him the hybrid of werewolf.

𝑲𝒚𝒍𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌

ISFP

Gryffindor

Chaotic Good

Gemini Sun, Virgo Moon, Cancer Rising

The Romantic Interest: A character who forms a romantic connection or relationship with the protagonist, often adding depth and emotional tension to the story.

The Underdog: A character who faces significant challenges or disadvantages but ultimately triumphs against the odds.

The Sage: The Sage archetype represents wisdom, knowledge, and enlightenment. Sages are often revered for their insights and serve as a source of guidance or counsel for the protagonist.

God this man could fit into so many archetypes. He is just ... the perfect character. He can still have character development, however, he can still be put forward as a fully formed character. Romantic, loving, intelligent, mindful. He likes to sit back and learn about others. He's diligent in that way (hence the Underdog). I also think he's so wise. Especially for his age. And he feels the most magically inclined out of the rest of the men.

𝑲𝒐̈𝒏𝒊𝒈

ISTP

Hufflepuff

Chaotic Neutral

Aries Sun, Aquarius Moon, Leo Rising

The Outcast: A character who is marginalized or rejected by society, often possessing unique abilities, insights, or perspectives.

The Beast: A character or entity often found in stories that represents the primal, untamed, and instinctual aspects of human nature or the natural world.

The Antihero: is an archetype is a character who lacks traditional heroic qualities but still engages in heroic actions. They often possess flaws, ambiguity, or morally gray motivations.

I think there are many different ways of looking at Konig. Physically he's a powerhouse - tall asf, a tad arrogant (only because of his voicelines), somewhat dramatic. But some have written him as toxic, others like to baby girl him. I think he's a bit similar to Simon but there's more distrust about him.

What would really be great is the task force as the Knights of the Round table. I think I could see Simon or Johnny as Arthur and Kyle or Price as Merlin (obviously Kyle as a young version like the BBC Merlin).

I can also see them as pirates! I actually want to write a Pirate! Task Force. Obviously Price as the Captain, Quartermaster is Simon, Kyle as Bosun (or Boatswain) and Johnny as the Gunner (makes things go boom!)

If I had to give the men shapeshifting abilities (into one mythical animal) I would go: ▪️ John Price | 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏 or 𝑪𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒖𝒓 ▪️ Simon Riley | 𝑮𝒓𝒊𝒎 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒓 or 𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 ▪️ Johnny MacTavish | 𝑾𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 or 𝑷𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒙 ▪️ Kyle Garrick | 𝑴𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏 or 𝑷𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒔𝒖𝒔 ▪️ Konig | 𝑩𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒌 or 𝑯𝒚𝒅𝒓𝒂

#witchthewriter #headcanons #aesthetic #moodboard #fantasy stories #characters #character archetypes #simon riley #john price #johhny mactavish #kyle garrick #konig #tropes #character tropes #dnd character #call of duty #cod #cod characters #call of duty x reader

79 notes · View notes

tinyshe · 1 year

Photo

#advent #christian #wise men still seek him

0 notes

imakemywings · 9 months

Text

Analysis of Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth

The Athrabeth is one of those things which spawns endless fandom discussion, but a lot of it seems to misunderstand what's going on in Andreth and Finrod's discussion, which is understandable. There's a lot going on and the language can be difficult. Athrabeth serves two purposes: 1) on a meta level, it is Tolkien exploring the differing fates and beliefs of the peoples of Middle-earth; and 2) on a textual level, Finrod is both having a cultural exchange with and seeking to comfort Andreth about the loss of Aegnor, his brother whom she loved. The two discussions are necessarily tied together, because Andreth's bitterness and anger over the mortal fate of Men (which she believes to be unnatural, imposed on them by Melkor) is tied into her feelings about losing Aegnor.

I want to focus on the relationship we're shown between Andreth and Finrod.

The Cultural Exchange

Finrod first engages Andreth, a wise woman among her people, in a conversation about the beliefs and mythologies of the Beorians. I have often seen Finrod criticized for being condescending here, and while I suppose you could read that attitude into it, I don't. When Andreth accuses the Elves of condescension, of considering Men beneath them, Finrod agrees with her:

"Alas, you speak near the truth," said Finrod. "At least of many of my people; but not of all, and certainly not of me."

He freely admits many Elves wouldn't bother with Men because they do consider them "creatures of less worth." But Finrod is among Men, asking questions about their culture and their belief system, because it interests him. From the very beginning, the story tells us Finrod's interest in Men and their culture is genuine, whether or not Andreth believes that.

Finrod (son of Finarfin, son of Finwë) was the wisest of the exiled Noldor, being more concerned than all others with matters of thought...and he was eager moreover to discover all that he could concerning Mankind.

And he seems to respect Andreth as a keeper of her people's knowledge, even if he doesn't always agree with it. The story very much sets them up both as respected individuals among their peoples, with even the Elves acknowledging Andreth's intelligence and knowledge:

[Andreth] was wise in thought, and learned in the lore of Men and their histories; for which reason the Eldar called her Saelind, 'Wise-heart'.

This exchange between them has always come off as one of deep respect on both sides, to me. It is precipitated by Finrod's grief for the death of Boron, a lord of the Beorians, and his struggle with the seemingly short lives of Men. He and Andreth compare the views of the world of their respective species and share beliefs that each side has in the nature of the world.

A number of things Andreth says Finrod knows are false, because he grew up in Aman, he's met the Valar. But even where he challenges her assertions--such as her belief that Men were not always mortal, but were made so by Morgoth--it isn't done with some effort to triumphantly prove her wrong, but rather advising caution or offering a different perspective.

"Beware of the chaff with your corn, Andreth! For it may be deadly: lies of the Enemy that out of envy will breed hate. Not all the voices that come out of the darkness speak truth to those minds that listen for strange news."

And there is a deep bitterness and resentment that arises around the notion that Morgoth robbed Men of their rightful immortality. It absolutely comes through in Andreth's tone throughout Athrabeth. It must be very easy for mortals to perseverate on this rather than taking mortality as the natural state of being and processing it through that lens. Andreth resents that she is mortal, and she sees her mortality (imposed on her by Melkor) as the reason she could not have Aegnor.

Andreth and Finrod like and respect each other enough to have a discussion/debate like this and still consider each other a friend at the end. Further along, Finrod even suggests Andreth may not be entirely wrong, but is deeply troubled by the notion that Morgoth could be powerful enough to do such a thing. In short, he is listening to Andreth, and while her assertions may not immediately make sense to him, he considers them and how they might impact a person's view of the world.

Andreth too, allows for some flexibility in belief:

"You speak strange words, Finrod," said Andreth, "which I have not heard before. Yet my heart is stirred as if by some truth that it recognizes even if it does not understand it."

While each of them already has their own ideas about the world and their species' relationship with each other and with death and hope, they listen to one another. They aren't simply arguing to prove themselves right--they are having a genuine discussion (which necessitates being willing to oppose each other on some things). Amid the discussion on mortality and the nature of death for Elves and Men, she says this:

"Hope, that is another matter, of which even the Wise seldom speak." Then her voice grew more gentle. "Yet, Lord Finrod of the House of [Finarfin], of the high and puissant Elves, perhaps we may speak of it anon, you and I."

There is some culture clash between them, as some of their views and beliefs are mutually exclusive, but although their discussion gets emotional at some points, it never, to me, feels mean or disrespectful. Here was a clear spot for Andreth to cut off the conversation if she felt talked down to, or upset, but instead she encourages it to continue. They may occasionally get intense with their discussions (Andreth does shed tears at a few points)--and Athrabeth implies in my view that this is not the first of these cultural discussions they've had--but they still like each other.

And that is part of the key to the Athrabeth for me--they are friends.

In the days of the peace before Melkor broke the Siege of Angband, Finrod would often visit Andreth, whom he loved in great friendship...

He comes to her in friendship, and goes out of his way to speak with her about the end of her relationship (whatever it was--the text isn't clear on that) with Aegnor. He opens this talk by asking her about things Andreth is known to be knowledgeable about--paying respect to her wisdom, and regarding her intellect highly enough to even have such a debate. He wants to understand her perspective on the world, and it does shape her reaction to her relationship with Aegnor.

Finally, Andreth, for her part, seems like she would be more than willing to tell Finrod to fuck off if she didn't like him or didn't want to talk or felt like he was being an ass. This is not a soft-spoken person; she is very upfront with Finrod when she wants to be. The fact that she continues to engage him both in the discussion about Mannish beliefs and about Aegnor suggests to me that she also considers him a friend, or at least that she feels generally amiable towards him

Explaining Aegnor's Choice

The other big criticism of Finrod that seems to come out of Athrabeth stems from this effort, which often seems to be a misunderstanding that Finrod is making an argument that Aegnor made the right choice, which is not at all how I read this discussion.

However, before that, I do want to say: Aegnor was not wrong to leave Andreth. There is, to me, an uncomfortable fandom attitude that Aegnor was obliged to stay with Andreth because she loved him, or that he somehow wronged her by choosing not to be in a relationship with her. No one is obliged to be in a romantic relationship they don't want, no matter what the reasons are. That Aegnor loved Andreth does not mean he was forced to be with her. There were other considerations in his life and I don't think it was invalid of him to place those first. Neither is it invalid of Andreth to be bitter about it--especially considering where she starts this discussion.

Andreth, early on, still believes that the reason Aegnor left her is because she isn't an Elf--that she isn't immortal. She talks about how she wouldn't have made herself a burden to him in her old age, how she would have only given him her youth, etc. She is 48 at the time of Athrabeth.

"I was young and I looked on his flame, and now I am old and lost. He was young and his flame leaped towards me, but he turned away, and he is young still. Do candles pity moths?"

You can see here her anguish over her own mortality, which ties irrevocably into her anguish over losing the love of her life. What Finrod tries to tell her is that it was nothing about Andreth that ended it. Aegnor's decisions were not based on his feelings about Andreth or her mortality, but on various cultural factors among the Elves (such as their disinclination to marry during wartime) and his obligations, in his mind, towards the war against Morgoth. Finrod tells her that "if his heart ruled" Aegnor would have run off with Andreth, but that he chose to put his duty above his desire for her.

"Adaneth, I tell thee, Aikanar the Sharp-flame loved thee. For thy sake he will never take the hand of any bride of his own kindred, but will live alone to the end, remembering the morning in the hills of Dorthonion."

He isn't trying to say "Aegnor made the right choice" or "Elves shouldn't marry mortals" but he is trying to give her context for a decision that's already been made. Aegnor is already gone; Finrod is trying to relieve Andreth of feeling that it was somehow her fault, or that she didn't live up to Aegnor's expectations.

"Then why did he turn away? Why leave me while I had still a few good years to spend?"

"Alas!" said Finrod. "I fear the truth will not satisfy thee..."

Here, he gives the explanation about customs of the Eldar and marriage, and about Elves and memory (specifically about how Aegnor, as an Elf, may prefer to dwell in the happiness of their memories rather than proceed to a grim future). Andreth does not seem especially comforted by this. It's understandable. Andreth is very bitter, and not unfairly: She's bitter that her people are mortal while Finrod's are not; she's bitter that this mortality (in her mind) cost her the man she loved; she's bitter that Aegnor left her. Andreth's life has been hard: it's very understandable that she's angry about it. So it makes sense that Finrod's words don't really reach her where she is now. She isn't ready for that; she's still dealing with all of these other feelings. But I do believe that someday, this conversation will mean something to her. Someday, when Andreth is older and has more distance, I think it will mean something to her that Aegnor loved her, and that it was duty, not contempt, that kept him from her.

Finrod does express belief that marriage between Men and Elves is destined to be sorrowful, but this isn't an illogical position from the half of the equation doomed to live on without their partner, or from one of a species who may literally die from grief. Naturally Andreth thinks of how she could have spent her youth with him at least, while Finrod thinks of how much pain Aegnor would have been in as Andreth grew old and neared death.

"I would not have troubled him, when my short youth was spent. I would not have hobbled as a hag after his bright feet, when I could no longer run beside him!"

"Maybe not," said Finrod. "So you feel now. But do you think of him? He would not have run before thee. He would have stayed at thy side to uphold thee. Then pity thou wouldst have had in every hour, pity inescapable. He would not have had thee so shamed."

It is also relevant that they both speak, on this matter, in ignorance. Neither of them has experienced or even seen a marriage of mortals and Elves (none occurs before Finrod's death in Tol-in-Gaurhoth). They are both speaking only from the heart, from what they feel would be true about it. It's also relevant to remember the decision has been made. Finrod is perhaps trying to explain how hard the marriage would have been in part to make Andreth feel better about its nonexistence, because he knows Aegnor will not go back on his choice.

And on some level, Finrod sees that he isn't going to radically change her view on this one visit, and that's when he backs off.

"And what shall I remember?" said she. "And when I go to what halls shall I come? To a darkness in which even the memory of the sharp flame has been quenched? Even the memory of rejection. That at least."

Finrod sighed and stood up. "The Eldar have no healing words for such thoughts, adaneth," he said... He took her hand in the light of the fire. "Wither will you go?" she said.

Athrabeth ends on such a tender note, it has always in my mind contributed to seeing the conversation as an overall positive: that Finrod looks forward to seeing Andreth after death, that he places himself--almost tentatively (and what is the meaning of that em-dash, Tolkien?)!--alongside Aegnor in her future. He knows her time on Arda is short, compared to his own, but he doesn't want this to be the only time their souls have together. It ends with his holding her hand in her grief and giving her this blessing:

"Wither you go may you find light. Await us there: my brother--and me."

This is why I've always seen Athrabeth as such an intimate conversation which speaks to a deep level of friendship and respect between Andreth and Finrod. It deals with a lot of emotionally volatile things, which I think makes people inclined to see either of them (Andreth especially) as upset by the conversation, rather than the issues that they are discussing in it. But to me, again, that they were willing to have such a raw, open discussion with each other speaks volumes about how positively they see each other. They are so clearly trying to reach out to one another from two very different places in the world.

"Yes, Wise-woman, maybe it was ordained that we Quendi, and ye Atani, ere the world grows old, should meet and bring news to one another...indeed, that you and I, Andreth, should sit here and speak together, across the gulf that divides our kindreds..."

"Across the gulf that divides our kindreds!" said Andreth. "Is there no bridge but mere words?" And then again she wept.

They don't always make it, and sometimes they wound, but they are trying. And that counts for something.

#Finrod #Andreth #The Silmarillion #meta #mine #okay I did it #this is really only concerned with the relationship between Andreth and Finrod #not an analysis of their actual beliefs #tolkien tag

147 notes · View notes