Pairing: Baelor "Breakspear" Targaryen x F!Velaryon!Reader
Summary: The second wife of the Prince of Dragonstone is many things: healer, dragonrider, sea witch, mother. When a dream shows her what the tourney at Ashford will cost, she will unmake fate itself to keep what she has built. A story of power, grief, and a marriage that was never supposed to happen.
Content Warnings/Contains: vomiting, canon typical violence, period typical attitudes, implied pregnancy loss, grief,no y/n, no physical description of reader, second person pov, original female character, velaryon reader, canon divergence, baelor breakspear lives, fix it, dragon dreams, slow burn, political intrigue, found family, shadowcat companion, magic, eventual explicit content
A/N: Just another Baelor widow trying to cope. Dabbling in writing again after a veeerry long break but if anyone can inspire me it's Baelor "BreakMyBack" Targaryen. Second person POV throughout, she's you, you're her, we're all Baelor's wife here. Feedback always welcome. Let me know if you want to see more! Enjoy :D (P.S. This is my first time writing on Tumblr so any suggestions are appreciated!)
no because nobody understands how hard it was to find x reader fics of anyone in the gaang or atla fandom in general before this movie came out. now there’s new fics coming out daily. I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS‼️
when FIRELORD ZUKO takes a liking to AVATAR AANG'S mysterious new BRIDE.
TORN BETWEEN TWO ROADS ! — aang x reader x zuko
PLOT. republic city is finally at peace, and katara allows herself to hope that maybe now, after everything, she and aang can finally become something real. but when aang returns after eight months, he isn’t alone. he comes back with you at his side, introducing you as his wife. suspicious yet helpless, his friends do their best to welcome you, even as nothing about this sudden marriage makes sense. but while everyone else keeps their distance, one person doesn’t. and perhaps Zuko gets a little too comfortable with the avatar’s new wife.
CHARACTERS. AANG and ZUKO.
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, smut, angst, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps. reader is 21, dark themes, sexual assault, mentions of rape (not aang or zuko dw), established relationship, yearner aang, infidelity, depression, mentions of suicide, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not canon compliant to legend of korra, wip.
masterlist
art creds :: chamiii07, ilameys on x
CHAPTER ONE
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps. reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang but follows the characters, not canon compliant to legend of korra, not proofread.
CHAPTER TWO
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps. reader is 21, established relationship, mean sokka (no hate for him please, i am just a bitch hahah), little arguing (lowkey fight), fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER THREE
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, some 'arguing' with zuko, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER FOUR
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, smut, angst, hurt with comfort, small argument (i don't think it even counts), penetration sex, no protection (do they even have protection?), my own version of plan b used, pregnancy talks, slightly insecure reader (regarding katara), takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, kinda proofread.
CHAPTER FIVE
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, implied sexual assault, fight with zuko, zuko is kind of a prick ngl, protective aang, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER SIX
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, blood, stab wound, cauterization, lots of fire, a little tension, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER SEVEN
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, slight panic attack, a very bad injury (not detailed), takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, alcohol consumption, underage drinking (?) [idk their legal age for drinking, but in this fic it's 21], takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER NINE
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, kidnapping, restraints, sexual assault, character death mentioned, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER TEN
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, bad father, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, zuko spirals a little, multiple minor character deaths, ozai appearence, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER THRITEEN
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, blood, mentions of premeditated murder, angst, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, blood, mentions of premeditated murder, head injury, angst, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
After you were captured, you assumed your life would result in nothing more than weaving in a hut at the war camp until it killed you.
If only you were that lucky.
//
Read it on AO3!
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Noncon, Sexual Slavery.
//
I know it's been a while since I've written anything but I was rereading The Silence of the Girls and apparently Nolan knows I can't resist a man in a mask smfh. This will not be a happy story!
I spent the afternoon arranging our books by size and color (and it’s so satisfying and looks amazing) and my partner came home and stared in shock at the bookcase and then said “i’m a librarian, you can’t do this.”
it has occurred me during this process that apparently not everyone thinks about books by what color they are? like, literally when i’m looking for a book, i picture it in my mind. i have a very…tactile experience with the books i read and idk! i thought everyone did that lol.
my partner was like “how will i find [this book] for instance” and i replied “easy, it’s purple” and he looked at me like i was a witch.
This actually is interesting in terms of information-seeking behavior, which is a thing librarians think about a lot and often actually study (some library jobs require you to publish, and academic librarians, for instance, will often use the students at the college they work at to study how they search for information in order to figure out how to best provide them services).
When you go for an MLS (Master’s of Library Science, which is a thing, and which is usually required for “professional-level” library work [which is also a weird and contentious concept that I won’t go into here]), one of the things you study is the organization of information. This deals with how to determine what a book or other material is “about"—a concept we tongue-in-cheek call “aboutness"—and how to convey that to a potential user of the item and make it easy for them to find. Things like keywords and subject headings, do I put this book about how often wild birds attack aerial drones in with books about birds or with books about technology, if its a fictional novel do I put fantasy in it’s own section or mix it in with all of the other fiction, so on and so on.
OP is organizing books by how they would look for them. OP’s partner is thinking in terms of aboutness. This is a system that works for OP because it’s their personal library: they know basically what books they own and they only own books that are relevant to them, and if they know what the book looks like, that can be a quick way to find it.
In a library that assumes the public (or people who do not own that particular collection of books) are using the collection, that doesn’t work. Books are often re-issued in multiple covers, or re-bound in new covers when they get worn out, and if the user doesn’t know what the book looks like or is expecting a different cover, they’re lost. That’s why non-personal libraries used standardized cataloging systems like the Dewey Decimal System or Library of Congress System to organize a book by what it’s “about”, and then put books about the same or similar topics together, marked with labels and signage so a person unfamiliar with the book or collection can find their way to it.
Basically, OP’s system works for their own personal library, because it’s best suited to how the primary user—OP themselves—looks for books. OP’s librarian partner is coming from a background of thinking in terms of a public-facing collection, where aboutness is the key criteria and communicating it to a user unfamiliar with the collection is the priority.
unpopular opinion probably but I actually like that ao3 doesn’t let people take back their kudos.
unlike social media platforms (which ao3 is not) where people unlike stuff whenever they think or find out the original posters’ moral compass doesn’t perfectly align with their own’s or whatever, and “likes” can be taken back at any time, ao3 treats kudos as something sacred. once you give it, it’s the author’s to keep forever.
Best part is if someone deletes their account, the kudos remains, and it just gets swapped over to a guest kudos instead. The body is gone but the love remains.
Something neuroscience-y that helps with prose: attention is selective. A character will not notice everything in a room. They will notice what matters to their goal, fear, desire, training, wound, or obsession. A jealous character notices hands. a hungry character notices food. A soldier notices exits. A lonely character notices pairs. Description becomes character when attention has a bias.
Dancing with Ghosts - (nolan!Agamemnon x f!reader) Part Two
A/N: I hope y'all have a spare two hours lying around lol I'm sorry this is so long, I just got going and couldn't stop!! thanks for all the love on this story, i'm really enjoying writing it!!
Warnings: piv, sex in the armor, hand rests on throat but reader chokes themselves, biting, spanking, masturbation, ag being dramatic !! mythology canon violence and drama
Sleep refused you. Something more divine than dreaming commanded your attention.
Your eyes stared blankly at the stone wall next to your bed. You traversed the textures on the wall with your eyes again and again.
The king's hand had caressed your waist, squeezed there desperately. If you concentrated, you could still feel the warmth of his wide palm and smell the scent of his body.
Pulling your blanket closer, you could try to mimic the feeling of being wrapped in total and complete strength. Your hair carried the smell of the incense of the royal family and even though it was time, you were hesitant to wash it.
The deep baritone of Agamemnon's voice rang out in your thoughts, “Goodbye, my darling.” Had that word been saved just for you? How long since it had been given to Clytemnestra, his queen?
You tossed and turned in bed with a huff. Your eyes searched the interior of your family home, now bathed in a blue light of a new day. Your Father liked to sleep upstairs in the courtyard on cool nights so that he could feel the touch of Poseidon coming off of the nearby sea. The waves in the distance seemed to taunt you, the rhythm and crash, the build and the exhale, all reminded you of your night with the king.
You flopped onto your back and stared up at the ceiling.
“I will call for you when I need you.” He had said, but what about when you needed him?
You tried to talk yourself out of it. He did not love you, he would not disavow his queen to put a village girl on the throne beside him. There was no reason to allow him so much of your heart.
Despite your best efforts, the sweet nectar of hope filled you.
What if he was just as haunted as you were? What if he was laying in the bed he shared with the queen, wishing you were there instead? What if he wished to leave his kingdom to the deathless gods and bed down beside you for the rest of his life? Those strong shoulders filling your doorway, the dark form and the intensity of his eyes, all begging for you to free him of his gilded cage.
Unable to resist, your hand ventured under the thin blanket to lift your chiton to your stomach. Reaching down to the crux of your desire, your fingers were coated in warm, wet, need.
You thought of the hair from his belly button that lead down, down, and then the manhood that was befitting a king. You remembered clutching at his hips and feeling the delicious 'V' line of his defined muscles. Your eyes fluttered and you let them close, exhaling softly as you relaxed onto your hand. You followed your every whim of desire, building in speed and pressure just like the waves outside the window.
'Do I delight you too?' He had asked.
Gods yes.
Your free hand gripped your hip, just as the king had done. His face flashed in your mind and you tried to hold onto it amidst the building pleasure. His voice, the ripple of his muscled chest and shoulders, the way his mouth drank greedily from your skin.
You let out a soft whimper and then immediately clamped your free hand over you mouth. More, more!
Your fingers strummed as fast as you were able. Your teeth pushed into the skin of your hand over your mouth as wave of pleasure crashed into you. White, hot, blinding release coiled and then struck, casting you over the edge and into total delight. You could still feel Agamemnon inside you, the way he had brought more out of your body than you thought yourself capable of giving. Panting softly, you pulled your hand away from in between your thighs. Your legs trembled as you worked to slow your breathing. The feeling of desperation for more, for Agamemnon, to know that your needs would be filled by the one you wanted most, struck you right as you began to come down from the pleasured high.
Sexual activity, either alone or with a partner, separated mortals from gods, but if it was with a man like the king…surely the gods would honor you for it. With rouge in your cheeks, you sat up from bed and stretched. The sun made peach, sweet yellows, and pinks across the sky and you sighed in contentment as you peered out of the window. With a scratch to your messy hair, you arose and took wobbling steps to the clay vase sitting by the front door of your family house to clean yourself. By some miracle of the gods, the guard who returned it hadn't left a scratch.
The servants knew.
How could they not?
The king awoke while before Apollo had pulled his chariot fully across the sky and ordered for a bath to be prepared to clear himself of miasma. Before the morning rituals, before his morning meal.
If they didn't hear the king and his guest the night before, they knew for certain now.
Agamemnon sat in his golden bathtub and overlooked the soft light rising over the city. His city. He wondered which house was yours, were you awake yet, how your father was faring. He closed his dark eyes and took in a deep breath. He cupped the fragrant water of the bath in his hands and let it drip over his face and chest. None of those paths were worth traversing down. There was too much at stake, too much he owed his people, his brother, his wife, his children, the gods. A village girl would not change that. He wouldn't let her.
He sighed and let his head fall backwards to rest on the tub's edge. His body was slick with water still and glistened under the light of the morning, showing off every strong curve of muscle and thick tendon. He closed his eyes, the length of his eyelashes resting against his cheekbones. So much swirled in his mind that he couldn't hold onto any of them, but he spent several moments trying.
After washing, the water grew cold and Agamemnon grew anxious. Now purified, he dried off and dressed, then went downstairs to the altar above the hearth of the palace.
Servants were collecting to begin the morning ritual and their eyes kept catching on their damp king as he descended the stairs, then made his way to his throne and bowed his head to receive a veil upon his dark hair.
The servants whispered amongst themselves, "Why did he bathe so early?"
"It is to rid himself of the dirt of sex before approaching the gods."
"But the queen is in Sparta…"
One servant's eyes flicked knowingly to the other, and then both shifted to the altar where the ritual was about to begin.
"Why did you waste so much water today?" Your father asked as you cooked the morning meal for the both of you.
"Waste? I didn't waste any."
"The vase is almost empty, we've only just finished the morning ritual."
You swallowed tightly. "The guard who brought the vase back to you must have dropped some yesterday. I can…I can go get more today." Your father's blind eyes hid the blush on your cheeks and the water droplets falling from your hair.
"Mmm, yes, please do. Our herbs are wilting."
"How do you know?" You chuckled as you took a bite of a bright, flavorful plum.
"Their spirits are frail. Zeus must be jealous of my harvest and withholding rain." The old man laughed to himself and you shook your head.
"Oh yes, father, the god of gods is jealous of our wilting rosemary."
Sweat beaded at the back of your knees as you hefted the clay vase higher on your hip. Why did every living thing in the world require water?
A man, shorter than you with a dark, curly, beard rushed by you on the rock path, heading for the market square, "The king! The king is in the square! Agamemnon!"
Your heart leapt.
Others on the road beside you paused and looked at each other in wonder.
Instinctively, you looked at the palace further down the path and then behind you to the market square. Sighing, you gazed down at the clay vase in your hands and whispered to it, "Come on."
His voice boomed through out the open air market. What was once warm and intimate, warming your heart and your skin, now commanded the attention of every villager in attendance.
Agamemnon called, "Paris of Troy has taken my brother's wife, Helen of Sparta!"
He looked every bit the king he was, now suited in his battle armor. His tall body was accented by the dark, heavy cloak behind him. His strong shoulders and wide chest were contained in a strong, black, chest plate. Two lion engraved pendants fastened his cloak to his chest, matching the gold lined armor he wore. You had seen his helmet many times. After every battle it was displayed in front of the castle as a way to flaunt his prowess. It sat above his throne when not on his head. But now, with the ringing of his desperate voice accompanying it, the helmet was striking. Vertebrae from his enemies, cleaned and dipped in gold adorned the back. His dark curls wound their way out from the sides of the helmet and gave him a strangely boy-ish look.
"My brother, good king Menelaus, has called upon us, brave Mycenieans, to wage war upon the thieves!" He continued. "Those violators of Zeus's law need to be shown what happens to those that cross the House of Atreus! That kidnap our queen!" His chest was puffing, strong and proud with a bristled back.
You could make out his plush lips under the helmet and the dark of his eyes, but the rest of the man was in shadow. You waded through the crowd of shouting people, all rallying behind their king and the just cause.
Agamemnon surveyed the crowd and his smile faltered when he caught your eye. He held your gaze for a moment, then returned to the part of the king.
"Every able bodied man, form a line and draw your lot. It is the god's will that we take back what is ours! Do not let your king fight a war on his own." Agamemnon shouted.
Men of every size, shape, and stature herded towards the guards standing beside the king, holding a basket with carved lots.
You watched as the men formed a line. They were giddy, laughing and joking with each other. Excited for the prospect of dying by a foreign hand.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion just before a hand grabbed your upper arm. "My lady!"
You gasped and turned abruptly.
A palace guard stood there as men rushed around him. "Your presence is requested at the palace."
Your eyes flicked up to the knowing Agamemnon who was watching over the lots being chosen, but couldn't help but turn his head to make sure his guard followed orders.
You blushed and bowed your head. "Yes, sir."
Roses for Aphrodite. Peppermint to soothe. Lily because they were Agamemnon's favorite.
A servant sat perched on the side of a steaming bath, sprinkling flower petals and oils into the water. "The king requested we bathe and groom you. He will be along after lots are chosen."
You swallowed, looking up at the girl who was about your age. Her wide eyes and smattering of freckles.
If she revealed your and king's secret, she would die. And so would you.
You swallowed anxiously. "As he wishes."
The servant girl smiled and sat the bottles of flowers and oils beside the golden bathtub. She dried her hands on her chiton, then crossed the room to you. "Do you wish to disrobe or should I?"
"Oh! I will." You blushed and hurriedly began to untie your chiton.
She nodded and said, "I'll wait right outside the door. Just call for me when you finish and I will groom you the way he likes."
Smiling uncertainly, you watched her go and shut the door behind her. Once naked, you stepped into the bath and sank into it. The warm, fragrant water rushed up to your neck and you sighed heavily.
The feeling was incredible. You'd been in a body of water before, of course, but never warm water. Your muscles instantly relaxed and your eyes fluttered shut.
"Oh wow…" You said to yourself. This must be what heaven feels like.
For a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine that this was your home. Your bathtub. Agamemnon your husband. His bed was your bed. Your sons with his hair and your daughter with his eyes. Your father able to rest in comfort, with someone to take him down to the sea to feel the hand of Poseidon whenever he needed it.
You opened your eyes again and looked out of the window and to the city below. You could make out the king's helmet from where the bath sat on the upper floor of the palace. You snickered and watched him as he walked around the square. Your wet hair tracked warm tears down your back as you sat up to watch him. You had no idea he was looking for you, watching to make sure you made it into his personal bathtub, until he turned towards the palace and his arm reached up in a wave when he saw you.
Giggling, you lifted your wet hand to wave back.
He smiled up at you, flashing perfect teeth, and you could feel the 'thunk' of Eros's arrow land in your heart. It squeezed with the pain of affection.
You motioned with your finger for him to come here.
Agamemnon smirked and he turned his back to you, pretending to survey the lot drawing once more.
Lanterns cast the king's bedroom in a warm, intimate glow. The servant girl had burned incense just moments ago, giving the room a warm, earthy scent.
The servant had groomed and then dressed you in a translucent fabric wrap that exposed the whole of your skin. The way the deep maroon fabric clung to your body made you look as if you were flushed and warm to the touch. Your heart thundered in your chest.
Would he be happy with you this time? Would Artemis punish you for having sex with a man? Even if he was a king?
Before you could pray and ask her, you heard the scurry of the servant's feet as they fled the bedroom and hallway before it. Silence for a moment. Then heavy, armored footsteps.
You swallowed and felt your heart pound in excitement. You laid out across his bed, a blanket draped over your abdomen, the rest of you in the see-through fabric.
King Agamemnon of the Mycenae stepped into his bedroom and stopped as soon as he entered. His eyebrows lifted, his nose flared, and his eyes bore deeply into you.
The way he said your name was intoxicating and already so sex-drunk there was no way he could repeat it if he tried.
You gave him a soft smile and bat your eyelashes. "My king."
Agamemnon chuckled lowly, flashed that devastating smile again, and stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him.
He took off his helmet and set it on a nearby table before crossing the room to you. He took your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes, now a darker shade of brown from the desire pooling in his chest, studied your face.
"So beautiful." He whispered.
You couldn't stop the blush growing on your cheeks. It felt like your heart was stuck at the base of your throat. "I have missed you." You admitted.
The king smirked and pulled his gloves off, never taking his eyes away from yours. "You have?"
"Very much." You breathed.
"Show me." He whispered. He worked quickly to start to take his armor off, but you reached a hand out to press lightly on his arm.
"Can you leave it on?"
His cheeks pulled upwards as he chuckled, "You like my armor that much, my darling?"
"Mmm…" You nodded, your eyes drinking down the dark and battle-ready man you were craving.
"I'll try." He unwrapped the leather from his hands and took his sandals off quickly.
You stepped off of the bed and took his helmet from the table by the door. "And this too?"
Agamemnon chuckled, kicking his sandals away from the bed. "If you like it, give me that too."
Nodding, you handed it to him and climbed back into the expensive blankets and fragrant sheets.
Agamemnon climbed in over you, the armor clearly making his movements boxy and loud. He pulled the helmet on and you beamed at him.
"Like Ares himself." You praised.
The king shook his head and reached out, grabbing your waist. He pulled you across the bed so that your nearly naked body lay under him at the edge of the mattress. Naturally, your legs opened around his hulking form and the fabric bunched at your waist. You giggled and rubbed your hand up his breastplate, resting in between the two lion pendants on his shoulders.
Agamemnon rumbled lowly, his nostrils flaring. He studied your body from behind that huge helmet and swallowed eagerly.
"Can you still kiss me in that thing?" You asked softly.
Without another nudge, the king leaned down and captured your mouth in a deep kiss full of want and hunger.
You brushed your hand over the sides of the helmet, caressing each ridge and divot as your tongue slid past his lips and against his.
His hands moved over your open thighs, up to where the fabric collected. He breathed against your mouth "This is mine isn't it?"
Your heart lurched.
Before you could ask if he meant the fabric or you, his hand slowly rubbed over your bare folds. His thick fingers spread them and dipped into you before moving out again.
You looked up into his eyes in the helmet and you forgot how to speak momentarily.
He continued the slow torture, moving his fingers deeper inside each time. His mouth fell open and his breath grew shallow.
"Answer me." He whispered.
You nodded, for words had forsaken you. "Mmhmm."
The king bent down and sucked at your bottom lip, pulling it tight into his mouth before letting it go to swell. He kissed down your neck and jaw, his breath hot and desperate.
Your eyes fluttered shut and you moaned softly. "Gods…"
Agamemnon gripped the thin fabric on your body and clenched it tightly in his strong hands. With one groan, he ripped it off of you and threw it off of the side of the bed. He smiled and his hands rubbed up and down your naked sides. "Better."
He lifted your legs higher up before separating the pieces of the pteruges and pulling himself free of the wool underclothes he wore. Already hard and leaking, he gripped your thighs and pulled you against the cool metal of his armor.
Your legs rested on his shoulders and your hands reached for the leather around his arms.
Agamemnon leaned over you, his huge body pressing against yours and making the feather bed shift slightly. He looked down into your eyes, smirking, "Breathe, my darling."
You nodded and gasped when you felt the blunt tip of him push into you. Your hands clenched at his arms and he bit his lip, watching himself sheath inside of you.
He let out a low groan and closed his eyes as he began to move. "So tight…" He hissed.
You let your hands travel up to clutch at the dark curls of hair peeking out from his helmet.
He rested his helmet against your forehead softly and reached behind your head to cradle your neck as he began to move faster.
Suddenly, you forgot how to breathe. The connection was intense, strengthened with every jolt from his hips.
You whispered his name before pushing up to kiss him needily.
Agamemnon moaned and his hands fisted in your hair. "More?" He panted.
You nodded yes, whimpering pitifully.
"Need this off." He panted and yanked his helmet off, setting it haphazardly on the bed behind you.
His curls shook free and you couldn't stop yourself from cupping his cheeks.
"My king." You breathed.
He hummed in satisfaction and let one of his hands move down to gently rest on your throat. He began to move his hips faster and faster. The sound of your coupling filled the room with obscene noises.
You gasped, your eyes rolling back in your head. "Yes! Oh, my gods!"
Agamemnon whimpered as you tightened around him and he bent down to mouth at your jaw and neck. His stubbly face brushed against the smooth of your cheek and you cried out desperately.
"Come for me." He whispered against your skin.
Panting, you lifted your head up to look into his eyes. Your expression was desperate, needy for him to give you exactly what you needed. "Tell me again." You pleaded.
The king growled against your skin and pulled his head back to look down at you. His hips moved frantically, your body working and moving in time with his. "Come, my darling."
You reached up and tightened his hand around your throat.
A few more thrusts from him sent you over the edge.
You stopped your own breathing, your eyes rolled back in your head, and you squeezed him so tight Agamemnon began to see stars. He cursed and followed right after you. His moan was wild with abandon, pitiful and dire with need.
The both of you stayed there, panting and trying to come back down for a few moments afterwards. You smiled softly, "You might need to clean your armor."
He chuckled breathlessly and leaned down to kiss you. "You don't want to lick it off?"
"Give me a few moments, then I'll think about it."
The king smiled and gave your thighs a gentle squeeze before pulling out, making both of you whine. He turned you on your side and slapped your ass before squeezing it to soothe his spank.
He climbed off the bed, still panting, and walked to the water pitcher sitting on a nearby table. He poured himself a glass, drank it all, and then poured another.
He walked back over and handed you the cup, then started to take his armor off.
"Thank you, Agamemnon." You tested out the feeling of his first name in your mouth. Seeing how close he would let you come.
He turned from where he was pulling off his chest plate and chuckled, "Careful."
Smirking, you finished the glass and crawled over the bed to be closer to him. "Why?"
"If I sail to Troy and Hades finds me…you will wish you did not get so close to me."
Your throat grew tight, the only signal that his words had any effect. "I do not wish to think on that."
He took the chest plate fully off, exposing his muscled back and shoulders. "You should. It is all the gods have allowed me to think about since Helen was taken."
"What do you mean?"
The king sighed heavily. He yanked his ptergues off and stepped out of it. "Many years ago, my father, King Atreus, caught a man cheating with my mother-"
Your cheeks heated with guilt.
"He slaughtered the man's children, captured the man, then fed them to him."
Your face twisted in disgust and horror. "What?!"
"All I think of, every day, is the cost." The king turned to you, his brows furrowed and his eyes darkened. "The cost of being king, of going to war, of the god's favor…of you." His eyes met yours and then left again as he stripped out of his underclothes, finally naked. "Of absolute power."
Quietly you said, "Only the gods have absolute power."
For a moment, the man you knew, you held affection for, was gone. In his place was the war lord the Romans would come to fear. The man capable of atrocities that struck fear into Athena herself. "Absolute power is in my blood."
"Then what is in mine? Do we not have the same blood?"
The king stared, his gaze narrowing for a moment before relaxing again. "Rebellion."
You blushed softly. "Clever."
He nodded. "You are my rebellion, my darling." His eyes bored into yours and you nodded in agreement. His hand reached over to cup your cheek. "The queen returns tomorrow. Will you stay with me?"
"I will stay for as long as you will have me, my king."
TAGS: @br0ke-b1tch @milkysea-02 (if you want to be tagged for the next part (or two) let me know!)
Was thinking about how, in some sources, Clytemnestra had a husband named Tantalus and a son before Agamemnon killed them both:
"And Agamemnon reigned over the Mycenaeans and married Clytaemnestra, daughter of Tyndareus, after slaying her former husband Tantalus, son of Thyestes, with his child."
- Apollodorus Bibliotheca E.2.16
"Thyestes, son of Pelops, his children by Aerope — Tantalus and Plisthenes."
- Hyginus, Fabulae 246
What's interesting is that this previous husband not only shares the name of their great-grandfather Tantalus, the infamous ancestor whose crimes set the curse of the family in motion, but was the son of Thyestes by Aerope, the wife of Atreus, the father of Agamemnon and Menelaus.
In Agamemnon's perspective, this younger Tantalus embodies every humiliation suffered by the House of Atreus, from his name to being born from his uncle's adultery with his mother, the first domino that killed his father.
He could be thinking that he's correcting a mistake, ending the cycle, but by killing Tantalus, his son, and forcing Clytemnestra to marry him, he's simply giving her more of a blood debt to avenge, way before Iphigenia.
I DO, actually, like the addition that Odysseus was reluctant to come home because he was battling the guilt and trauma of witnessing, facilitating, and participating in the violent sacking of Troy. That maybe he felt like he didn’t deserve to come home. That maybe he felt like there was no point in it since he was so far removed from the Odysseus he’d been before he’d left. “How can I come home to be a king, a husband, a father, when this journey has only proved me to be a monster?”
And I ALSO, actually, like that Athena appears to Odysseus in the form of the human priestess of Athena he watched murdered in Her temple during the sacking. A poignant manifestation of Odysseus’s guilt haunting him throughout the narrative. A harsh reminder of his sins and failures as a leader, his passivity in the face of cruelty. She looked up at him and pleaded for her life, and he did nothing as three of his men held her down and beheaded her.
Finally, I ALSO, actually, liked how the movie made it clear that while the Trojan War was certainly kickstarted by the Helen debacle, Agamemnon personally was much more motivated to wage war on Troy because of the monopoly they had on the trade route than any real love for his sister-in-law. She was nothing more than a convenient figurehead for him, a moralizing agent he could use as an excuse to take out a close economic rival. Someone he could point to and say, “See? We’re waging this war to save an innocent, kidnapped woman. Isn’t that a worthy cause to send your sons to die for?”
Dancing with Ghosts - (nolan!Agamemnon x f!reader) Part One
A/N: let me start by saying yes I know who this dude is and yes I have read Elektra and am currently reading The Odyssey. This fic takes place BEFORE (spoiler) the sacrifice of Iphy. Let me also say that when I went in to watch the movie I tried desperately not to be into him but alas, the armor and the slutty little curls underneath it got me fucked up !! If I could write an entire fic about just a tall, broad, stranger in the armor, I would.
If we like this, I have a part two in the oven rn with spicy time in the armor lmfao !
Warnings: piv, cum eating, 'good girl' used, kind of a self degredation(?) idk what you would call it but it's mild imo, greek *drama*
Mycenae
Three years after the wedding of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, on the brink of the Trojan War.
The men are scared. You can feel it in the air. Their king-your king, paces at night at the thought of what is coming. He walks until his feet ache and the lanterns burn low.
Neighbors have passed by with bellies full of drink and stopped at the sight of him through the palace window. Agamemnon, the resolute and stoic ruler, is apprehensive for the ocean of blood ahead. The years of clanging swords, of agony, of leaden grief. But, by the gods, that will not stop him.
You had never seen Agamemnon in the flesh. Of course, you knew the legends. You had heard his decrees. Seen his huge, stupid helmet on display after every battle. But, life wasn't battle and adventure; cyclops and whirlpool for you. No, it was sun and rain. Olive trees, dirty feet, hair salty from the sea. Your heart and the goddess Artemis beating within it. And truly, for all the adventure and wild tales in the world, there was plenty in the mundane to enjoy too.
"The vase is low!" The sound of your father's voice tore you away from staring out at the glittering sea through your window. You climbed down from the windowsill and hissed softly as your sore feet held your full weight again.
You called back to your father, "I'll go fetch more, father, just rest."
With a sigh, you tied your sandals back on and walked across the room to the large clay vase resting near the front door. Before you left, you made sure to go over to your father's chair and wish him goodbye. Leaning down, you kissed his cheek, just above the dark stubble, and gently squeezed his shoulder. His blind eyes searched to no avail.
"Artemis protect you, beloved." He said, his voice warm.
"She will. I love you." You stepped away and hefted the almost-empty vase onto your hip before leaving your small family home. Apollo had begun to drag the sun back down towards the horizon, but the warmth of it dripped over your skin like honey as you began your trek towards the nearby freshwater spring. The two mile hike wasn't too hard, but the light was slipping away quickly.
Your path brought you dangerously close to the palace. Guards with horse haired plumes stared at the wandering townsfolk, their dark eyes hidden behind metal and arrogance. The hatred they had for the people they grew up around pained your heart in a way you'd never been able to describe. Your eyes took in the impressive structure of the palace. The tall walls and large windows to allow the royal family to enjoy the sea from comfort. You sighed as your feet crunched over loose rocks in the path before you. You'd never seen the king in the flesh, but you'd seen his battle armor plenty of times. Sleek, dark, metal straight from the fires of Hel…or so the men in town imagined. The helmet itself was bigger than your entire head and sat above his throne when not on the king's mess of dark curls. As you approached the palace, your eyes couldn't help but wander towards the high windows, wanting to catch a glimpse of the mythologized man. You slowed your steps, drawing the eyes of a nearby guard. An olive tree blocked your view partially as you continued forward, careful not to slip on the rock and shatter your water vase.
In that other world, past that thick, stone wall, Agamemnon stood. His dark eyes searched maps of Rome and the shores of Myceane. If there was something here he was missing, something he could do, anything he could do, to avoid the dread that was looming in his heart, he didn't want to miss it. His fingers pushed his plush lips together in thought. With a huff of frustration, his long fingers combed through his black curls. They seemed to dance in the lantern light.
As he lifted that long, tan neck up towards the roof to silently plead with Athena, he walked towards the window and you gasped as he came into your view. He was tall, with broad shoulders that tapered down into a slimmer waist. His sharp jaw worked and his brow furrowed as he paced back towards the table and frowned. You stood on the balls of your feet to watch him place two fingers down onto the map and your nose flared as you strained to keep your mind from running away from you.
A couple of the guards leisurely walked over from the side of the palace to make sure you didn't gawk too long.
An older woman, her cane catching on the loose stone as she walked, stopped behind you to gawk at the tortured, beautiful man in the window. "You think he's into women my age?" She chuckled to herself and threw her head back with a laugh.
You laughed with her and smiled as she continued to totter along behind you. Her wisps of silver hair still had streaks of black from a youth not yet disappeared. Her chiton caught on the sea breeze as it blew in.
The woman continued down the path, passing to now be ahead of you, and you turned back to the palace window for one last look.
Your heart froze in your chest.
The king, Agamemnon of House Atreus, was staring back at you. His dark eyes shot like arrows through your ribcage. The feeling of them on your skin seemed to burn, almost like a physical hand of fire.
Forgetting yourself, you smiled at the king and reached your hand up as if to wave before you remembered to bow your head.
Agamemnon felt a tugging at his lips that he did not allow to blossom into a smile. He reached his hand up to wave back at you and when your head rose again, rouge appeared on your cheeks.
You smiled and called out, "Blessings, my king."
He grinned, his smile breaking through the night in his eyes and the darkness falling upon the land around you. "Blessings to you too."
You felt your eyes crease as you smiled and then bowed again. "I hope I did not offend you."
He chuckled, a low and warm rumbling that filled the night air around you. "The opposite. You delight me."
Your head lifted from the bow and you took in his face. All sharp lines and sun kissed skin. His hair glistened under the light and the slight stubble on his chin made your mouth feel dry.
Agamemnon's eyes took in your figure, the hair sticking to your skin, the fabric tight across your breasts and hips, your legs peeking out of the folds of your clothing. He took in a deep breath and then released it as his wife and queen, Clytemnestra, walked into the room, three little children in tow. He turned from the window and smiled as they entered. Just as quickly as he was there, he was gone again.
"Daddy!" Iphigenia called as she brushed past her mother's skirts and ran towards her father. Her siblings rushed after her, but none were as excited to see their father as Iphigenia.
Agamemnon bent his knees and opened his arms to her. He looked deep into her eyes and his cheeks seemed to beam with love. He wrapped his strong arms around her and pressed kisses to her cheek and temple. "How is little Iphy today?"
Iphigenia giggled and squirmed in her father's arms.
Clytemnestra drew his attention back to her as she began to speak, but her husband's eyes drifted back out to the window, to the escaping sun and the woman now far in the distance.
"My lady! My lady!" A male voice shouted from behind you over the sound of someone running in armor.
Your brows furrowed and you turned, balancing the heavy water pot on your hip. Looking at the barren springs around you, you asked, "Me?"
The King's guard nodded, his chest rising and falling as he gasped for air. "The king requests your presence."
"The k-the king?!"
The soldier bent in half, his stubby fingers resting on his knees as he strove for breath. "You're the woman who spoke to him earlier, are you not?"
"Well, yes-"
"Come with me at once."
"I-…This water has to go back to my home. To my father. He is lame and cannot gather food or water for himself."
The guard sighed heavily. His armor shifted as he stood upright, caught his breath, and then stepped closer. "Give it to me." He extended his grimy hand and you hesitated before relinquishing the vase to him.
You watched carefully as he struggled to hold the vase and winced as he misjudged the weight and almost dropped it. The clay container told the story of your family through the paint you'd taken hours perfecting. The guard finally settled on keeping it on his hip as he walked. "Follow me, my lady."
Your heart pounded as you hurried with the guard back down the path.
Did I offend the king? The queen by speaking to her husband?!
The entire odyssey back towards the palace, your mind turned over and over what it was that may have offended the royal family and how you were going to talk your way out of it. You prayed silently to Artemis, begging for protection and mercy and the veracity of her bow if needed. Your hands were slick with sweat by the time you reached the palace doors.
The guard passed off your vase to another in the king's service, then he guided you inside.
You watched the vase as the second guard walked past you and back into town. "Last house past the market square." You called to him.
The guard sneered and rolled his eyes.
You silently said goodbye to your vase as you took your first step into the palace proper.
It was expansive, clearly harboring trophies from all over the conquered world. Beautiful tapestries decorated the walls alongside weapons from past battles the king had, of course, been victorious in. Fires burned in the lanterns swaying above you. Wind from the sea billowed in through large windows and turned the curtains into dancing ghosts before laying them to rest again and again.
"Wait here." The guard said and rushed out of the room, up a set of stairs, and to the next floor.
You stood in the middle of the throne room and banquet hall, gazing upon the mural adorning the wall behind Agamemnon's throne. It was adorned with paintings of him battling lions and tigers, even facing down Hades himself. You played with your hands anxiously, wondering if the last thing you would see would be that mural or the commanding helmet mounted behind it. You decided, if possible, you would try to turn to make your last sight the sea breeze coming in from the windows.
"Thank you for coming." The dark rumble of his voice shot straight down your spine.
You jumped, turning to look up into the dark eyes of your king.
"My king." You bowed low, averting your eyes. "My deepest apologizes if I have offended you or the queen in any way-"
"Look at me." His voice echoed through the stone room and resounded in your ears.
You swallowed tightly and then lifted your eyes to his.
Agamemnon stepped closer. His eyelashes brushed close to his cheekbones and his gaze looked over your face with something that felt like warmth. "I told you that you delighted me, did I not?"
Your heart pounded in your chest and he could feel it when he reached a big hand out to gently cup your cheek. You scarcely dared to breathe, "Yes, my king."
He smirked softly at the fluttering of your rabbit heart under his touch. "Are you calling your king a liar?"
Your eyes widened. "No! No, of course not!"
He chuckled and stroked his thumb over your skin and despite yourself, you stepped closer.
Agamemnon bit his plush lip and let it go slowly as he studied your face. "What is your name?"
Breathlessly, you answered.
The king stepped closer, his body so close you could feel its warmth. The smell of him was like a burning sacrifice. It was warm and earthy, but spicy as well. It tickled your nose and was elusive enough that you had to stop yourself from moving closer to drink down more.
The king spoke your name into the empty stone room, the warm light bathing both of you in fire. "Do I delight you too?" His thumb slowly drug over your bottom lip, his eyes watching the way your skin pulled and the tempting softness of your mouth.
"Yes." You whispered.
His hand cradled your jaw and he swallowed, his Adam's apple moving slowly. His eyelashes fluttered.
The king is not attracted to you, he's married. It's some kind of trick, he's going to kill you, snap out of it.
He said softly, "I am so lonely in this palace."
You could feel his warm breath on your skin, see the stress in the furrow of his brow.
"A war in Troy looms…the gods are against me, and I-" Agamemnon pulled away, putting his hands back to his sides and sighing heavily. He wore a leather doublet over his robes and a sword at his side.
Your eyes flicked to the weapon and then back up the dark curls of the man now walking towards the throne.
He stopped and turned back to you, his eyes wide and desperate like a child's. "Will you comfort me? Serve your king in this way?" His dark eyes searched your face, drinking in every bit of you.
Your voice caught in your throat. "I…My king, what of your queen? Your family?"
Agamemnon sighed and looked down at his sandaled feet. He was silent for a moment, then turned and walked leisurely towards the wall of murals and a standing floor lantern with dying light near it. He took in a deep breath, then reached into the lantern and took hold of a fistful of cooling embers. In one exclamation, he thrust them against the mural wall. It struck the painted king's face and left behind a swath of darkness.
You gasped, but forced yourself to stay still. You braced for a king's rage.
"The queen…is none of your concern." He said softly, studying his singed hand. He did not move, just took deep breaths while Hel burned in his palm.
"Yes, my king."
"You are unwed?" When his eyes met yours, they seemed to blaze with agony and adrenaline.
You nodded and quickly averted your gaze. You looked upon the open window across the way from you instead. "Yes, my king."
"Hmm…now, how can that be?" His voice became playful as he circled you slowly.
Your eyes jumped to his injured hand and then you looked away again. "I am my father's caretaker. I don't have the time or money for children. When he dies, I would like to be a wife."
Agamemnon nodded, pursing his lips and folding his hands behind his back as he walked. "No Mother to take care of your Father?"
"No, my king, she was taken from people from the sea when I was a child."
He towered over you as he walked, his footsteps resounding on the stone floor. A thick, black, curl fell across his forehead. "You are very logical."
"You flatter me." You bowed your head again.
"Do you have room for passion still with all that logic in your head?"
Your eyes met his just as a gust of wind from the sea blew out all the lanterns in the room; plunging you both into darkness.
You could feel the sharp metal of one of the king's rings as it cut into your skin. One of his hands gripped tightly at your waist and the other palmed your heaving breast over your robes. His mouth was desperate, needy, as it sucked at your throat. He groaned, a low ache from his chest, and pistoned his hips harder, taking your breath away with each movement.
You gasped and let your eyelashes flutter, the overwhelming desire pooling within you was one like you'd never felt before. No one you had ever been with before hungered like the king did. Tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck, you guided his eyes back up to meet yours.
He threw open your robe to reveal your bouncing chest, moving in time with his thrusts, and did not waste time before sucking marks on your skin. His lips pulled and drank deeply, tasting the very essence of you as if he could not get enough.
You whimpered softly and fluttered around him. Panting, you dug your fingers into his shoulders and tightened your legs around his torso.
Agamemnon moved a hand from your waist to cover your mouth. "Shh, my darling."
He fucked you faster, his body slamming into yours with a dull ache that was transformed into pleasure so deep it stole your breath away.
You met his eyes, shining in the darkness. The crevice under the stairs was pitch black and hidden. The queen and children were away visiting her sister. Servants had been told not to relight the lanterns. To give the king and his guest the entire floor to themselves.
Agamemnon's mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back in his head. "So good…" He gasped. His hand left your mouth and gently caressed your jaw. He kissed up your sternum and then moaned into your mouth before kissing you again. His cock reached deep inside you, pushing your back up and down the wall behind you with each thrust.
You reached down for his closest hand and brought it to your mouth, sucking on two of his fingers slowly.
The king moaned lowly, his face pressing against your cheek as his movements grew desperate.
You pushed two of his fingers into your mouth to the knuckle and echoed his moan with one of your own.
Agamemnon cursed and let his head fall backwards. "I'm going to come." He breathed.
Whimpering around his fingers, you nodded and batted your eyelashes at him.
He pulled his fingers from your mouth, pushed your legs away from his torso, and folded your body in half. He pressed you tightly against the wall behind you.
It felt like your entire being was being wrung out, tight and desperate to let go for him. It was a struggle to find your breath. In this position, his cock hit harder and deeper than before. With a pitiful, shuddering breath, you gasped out his name.
The king groaned again, louder this time than before. He grit his teeth, his brow furrowed, then he lifted you up and off of him. He stroked himself fiercely and came all over his hand and the stone floor below.
You panted, your naked body like a statue of a goddess watching him with ne'er waning desire.
He stepped back to catch his breath, his thick cock still twitching with aftershocks against his rippled abdomen.
Keeping your eyes fixed on him, you slowly bent to your knees, then to all fours, then low enough to the floor that your tongue could lap up the dropped come on the stone.
Agamemnon groaned and reached down to massage and knead your ass slowly as he watched. "Good girl." He bit his lip and gently guided your ass to push back against him; again and again.
After cleaning his mess, you sat up and looked back up at him; the dark lashes and the black curl over his forehead.
He let out a heavy sigh, then moved his hulking body down to kiss you, slowly and deeply. His tongue explored your mouth and you could feel one his huge hands palm your breast again. When the kiss broke, he studied your face for a moment. "You will return to me when I need you."
You smirked softly, "Yes, my king." A blush decorated your chest and neck as he helped you stand to your feet. The king brushed your hair back behind your shoulder, then placed a kiss to the dip there.
"Tell no one of this. I will send for you."
Nodding and smiling softly, you gathered your discarded cloak and sandals from nearby and dressed quickly.
The king straightened your clothes and smoothed down your hair before nodding curtly and giving you a smirk. "Goodbye, darling."
"Goodbye, my king." You took your leave soon after, walking home with sticky and soreness in between your legs.
they've deleted it now but I need y'all to know that the official IMAX account posted uwu catboy Agamemnon on twitter. it's lowkey the best thing I've seen in the last 24 hours.
(can't find it anymore but it was definitely real. not sure why they would remove something this glorious though BRING IT BACK @/IMAX YOOOO)
Me watching the Odyssey: wow the way they present Agamemnon is so killer, even if the costuming isn't historically accurate it's still totally sick, I kinda love that he's aura farming in like every scene and the choice to keep him faceless is pretty interesting. The softer tenor-y voice adds another level of intrigue, I'll have to see who it was, I bet it's like a hot, strong unknown making his big break, I mean the rest of the cast is so stacked that it would be cool to have someone new to play such a prominent supporting role.
Me watching the Odyssey: wow the way they present Agamemnon is so killer, even if the costuming isn't historically accurate it's still totally sick, I kinda love that he's aura farming in like every scene and the choice to keep him faceless is pretty interesting. The softer tenor-y voice adds another level of intrigue, I'll have to see who it was, I bet it's like a hot, strong unknown making his big break, I mean the rest of the cast is so stacked that it would be cool to have someone new to play such a prominent supporting role.
Me watching the credits: BENNY SAFDIE?????
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