29 Days of Smut 2016

[aftanith]

A self-imposed challenge of my own creation, running from February 1, 2016 to February 29, 2016. I only plan to start these stories (producing around a thousand words for each), not to finish them within the month.

 

1.	[100moods] 92. Surprised | Sparrow x Frost, last-name basis	2.	[15pairings] look who's on top | top!Simon x Frost not during groupsex	3.	[50harlequins] Spoiled Rich Girl and Poor Boy | Circle!Sparrow x Victor!Frost	4.	Alduin x F!DB x M!DB, corruption & Shout!Sex	5.	[15pairings] indecent exposure | Galen x Frost, seduction
6.	Avery x Rylan x Jackson, dubcon & sex pollen	7.	Caderyn catches Charon x Adrasteia	8.	[15pairings] men | Simon x Sam, first time	9.	[citrus-taste | Kinkier Table] 44. masturbation | Sparrow x Frost	10.	[alphabetasoup] Hades | Sparrow x Frost
11.	Dark!Hera x everyone AU	12.	demon!Rylan x Avery x Ion, dubcon (Susanne & Myles Die AU)	13.	Dom!M!Dragonborn x slave!Ancano x slave!Ondolemar, mindbreak	14.	Domme!Esmeralda x slave!Scorpius x slave!Octavius, noncon & mindbreak	15.	Dom!Sigurd x slave!Charon x slave!Caderyn x slave!Zephyrus (+ Adrasteia)
16.	[citrus-taste] K-2. table | Sparrow x Simon x Nadia	17.	[citrus-taste] 26. harems | Harem/Parabellum Crossover	18.	[paranormal25] 23. writer's choice, tentacles	19.	Malene x Ancano, fantasy AU & arranged marriage	20.	[Maze of Fiends] Mate or Die AU
21.	M!DB x M!Werewolf, hentai physiology & urethral penetration	22.	[over-look] play dead | Izzy x Octavian, necrophilia roleplay	23.	[smut-69] oil | Sparrow x Frost	24.	[smut-69] orgy | Sparrow x Frost x Simon x Nadia x Loretta x Izzy	25.	[lover100] S-61. secret | Sparrow x Frost
26.	[lover-100] S-27. threesome | Sparrow x Frost x Galen	27.	[citrus-taste] K-47. in public | Sparrow x Frost x Galen	28.	Zevran x Lyna x King!Alistair, roleplay/raceplay #1	29.	Zevran x Lyna x King!Alistair, roleplay/raceplay #2

 

 

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[15pairings] look who's on top | top!Simon x Frost not during groupsex

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: Look Who's On Top
Pairing/Rating: Simon/Frost NC-17
Challenges: T1-4 (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/12045.html?thread=22797#t22797). Look who's on top! [15pairings (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/12045.html)]
Summary: top!Simon not during a threesome/foursome

Look Who's On Top [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

How long had it been, Simon wondered, since Frost had actually spent the night without Sparrow? There was one time, Simon recalled, back in the very beginning of this, only a few weeks after the Culling, perhaps only a few days after he'd met Sparrow himself, when Frost had let her spend the night in the second room of the suite with Nadia while Frost took Simon to his bed instead. And, he realized perhaps a bit begrudgingly, this entire relationship could be traced back to that night, couldn't it? That was the night Nadia had persuaded Sparrow to try masturbating, and that was the night Frost had first gotten it in his head that Sparrow would get off on the idea of the two of them together, and from there, it'd all been downhill. One threesome turned into another, which turned into a foursome, which turned into whatever the hell was happening now.

And try as he might to pretend otherwise, Simon knew exactly what this was. Frost was being an idiot, as usual, but this time, he was being downright reckless. Letting Sparrow alone with Seth Reinhold was the worst idea Simon had ever heard--the only thing he could imagine that could possibly be worse was the thought letting Octavian have her, and this was just barely a step above it. Seth Reinhold was dangerous, as likely to kill her as to fuck her, and Simon would do damn near anything if it meant persuading her to sever ties with him once and for all. Frost, being Frost, knew that damn well.

So here he was, glaring at the door to Frost's bedroom while he tried to persuade himself to knock on the door and make his presence known. Frost had already explained to him what was going on--to an extent, at least, and Simon had been able to infer from there. Sparrow was spending the night with her new boy toy in the spare room, taking for granted that she wasn't going to end up dead by morning, and Frost fully intended to use it as an opportunity to try to sway Simon into going along with his batshit crazy schemes.

For Frost, of course, this was a win/win situation. By letting Sparrow spend the night with her new lover--who, from all that Simon had heard, wanted nothing at all to do with Frost and violently refused to touch him--a refusal that was only tolerated because of Sparrow's interference, Simon knew--Frost would be winning Sparrow's favor, however slightly. Meanwhile, he'd have the chance to go to work on Simon, trying once again to present the idea of a more... permanent relationship as something that wasn't an utterly horrifying prospect. And even Simon could admit that he'd have a better shot at it than usual, though he certainly wasn't about to actually let Frost convince him of anything. Frost, Simon knew, was going to keep reminding him that Sparrow and Seth were next door, doing who the fuck wanted to know what to each other, and Frost was going to try to present this--the idea of replacing her romance with this latest, most insane victor with an ongoing polyamory between Frost, Sparrow, Nadia, and himself--as the best alternative. And while Simon certainly wasn't going to argue that it was certainly a better idea than letting Sparrow keep fucking Seth... he wasn't about to give up his own freedom, either.

And so, of course, Frost knew that even if he failed to convince Simon tonight, he would at least get a solid fuck out of it. Simon wondered if the same could be said for himself, or if that was to be his punishment for refusing. He wouldn't put it past Frost to leave him hanging.

With a sigh, he reached out and knocked on the door--and waited.

The door opened within a few seconds, and Simon was distinctly unimpressed to find Frost standing on the other side of it, dripping wet and wearing only a white towel wrapped tightly around his waist. He raised a brow as he walked past the other man into the room, trying to make sure his up-and-down glance was as judgmental as he could make it. "Did I catch you at a bad time or something?" he asked as he headed toward the bed. "Because if you're too busy, we can always call this off."

Frost just gave him a sly little smirk. "I was in the shower, Simon. Well, we were."

[50harlequins] Spoiled Rich Girl and Poor Boy | Circle!Sparrow x Victor!Frost

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: Inverted
Pairing/Rating: Sparrow/Frost NC-17
Challenges: 23. Spoiled Rich Girl and a Poor Boy [50harlequins]
Summary: And now for something completely different: Sparrow is a Circle debutante, and Frost is a victor. (It's funnier if it's still him who's obsessed.)
Warnings: background noncon/dubcon

Inverted [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Note: I considered a straight reversal of Sparrow and Frost's roles--i.e., making Frost a victor and Sparrow the Chancellor of Parabellum--but ultimately decided it doesn't fit with what I feel is the core of Sparrow's character. While she's not an apolitical person, she's not one to desire (at least in canon proper and at the onset of this story) the role of a political figurehead. In both her canon incarnation and this version, she's more a surly anti-government type at first (and will only later begin shifting into something of a philanthropist).

I also briefly considered putting her in a Loretta-esque role in which she would manifest as the daughter of an OC Chancellor, but I felt that came too close to the "never a self-made woman" stereotype (should I decide for her to become more political later) and also risked introducing another strong male figure (presumably but not definitely a sympathetic one) that could too strongly influence both her character and the plot. So, what I'm going with here is that Sparrow has a very Frost-esque background; she was born to an elderly man in the Circle (a previous Chancellor, in this case) and his much younger "trophy wife".

Their romantic roles, however, will be much the same. Frost is obsessive, aggressive, and much more sexually open, while Sparrow is cold and distant and though lacking in childhood sexual trauma still suffering from the unwanted affections of Octavian Donahue, who no doubt intends to use her as a way to strengthen his campaign for Chancellor.

So let's see how this works out.

---

Sparrow had been surprised when she'd heard the news. She wasn't one to pay much attention to the Culling normally; honestly, the entire thing sickened her, and it would probably be more merciful to simply let everyone that entered the arena die there. For every Isadora Bitya, there were five Nadia Sens, wide-eyed and innocent and scared and wholly undeserving of the fate they would suffer for the rest of their lives. The men and women who could, like Izzy, actually enjoy their new lives could be counted on one hand.

But the number of men and women like this one, on the other hand... well, she was sure there must have been more, but there weren't any she could recall. The Circle had a type when it came to the Culling, and that type hadn't varied much in the last few decades, as far as she knew. There was a bit more leeway with women, a healthy range of colors and sizes, though there of course wasn't an unattractive specimen in the bunch, but the men were held to much stricter roles; they all had the same dark features, the same fair skin, the same general build. And yet somehow this newest victor bucked the mold.

He wasn't even young she realized. Certainly, he wasn't as old as the current generation of patriarchs--no one that far along in life stood a chance of winning the Culling, after all--but he was probably about forty, more than old enough that she doubted the Circle had actually chosen him, and wasn't that a laugh? How long had it been since their plans to pick out the new victor had failed?

And, more importantly, what did it mean for the poor bastard who had the gall to win instead of whatever pretty little thing they'd chosen?

Sparrow sighed and stood, setting her glass of wine down on the coffee table, barely touched. German was up in an instant, setting his book aside and rising from the armchair diagonally across from the couch. "You can take it," she said reluctantly, gesturing toward the glass. She would've prefer to stay and finish it, of course, but there wasn't going to be any getting out of this tonight; it wasn't just a Debut she could "forget" to RSVP to. The Circle begrudgingly tolerated her disinterest in their system because of who her father had been and the rewards one of them might reap one day if they she so completely lost her mind as to marry, but they wouldn't let her avoid a Victory Ball. If she didn't come, her absence would be noted, and there'd be hell to pay.

And she certainly had no time for that.

Dragonborn/Alduin, Shout!sex + corruption

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: Slen Kreh Zaam (http://elderscrolls.wikia.com/wiki/Dragon_Language) alternately, Hah Kren Zaam
Pairing/Rating: F!DB/Alduin, M!DB/Alduin, F!DB/M!DB NC-17
Challenges: Inspired by Flesh, Feral, Mercy (http://skyrimkinkmeme.livejournal.com/1639.html?thread=1011559#t1011559).
Summary: Alduin Wins AU of the Rival Dragonborns idea, in which shout!sex a la Flesh, Feral, Mercy leads to corruption/addiction.
Warnings: noncon, corruption/dubcon, fantasy bestiality (dragon/human)

Slen Kreh Zaam [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

This was a genuine nightmare. If only that bastard Alarik hadn't sided with Ulfric, Morgen had little doubt that Alduin would be dead by now--or at least, she'd be that much closer to killing him and fulfilling her destiny of saving the world. But no, after Parthurnaax had helped them send Alduin running back to Sovngarde with his tail between his legs like a frightened wolf, Balgruuf had refused to help them trap this Odahviing creature in Dragonsreach while the war still raged, and Alarik and his beloved Lydia hadn't wasted a moment fucking off to Windhelm, eager to help the Stormcloaks take Skyrim once and for all.

He had laughed in her face when she suggested a peace council, and when she'd tried to approach Ulfric directly, he had the one making sure she wasn't let in the front door, even after all she'd done to protect the people of frozen, racist nightmare of a city from the Butcher. Some gratitude, that was.

In any case, it had become very clear by now that Alarik and Ulfric and the rest of these imbecilic "Skyrim is for the Nords" types had no issue with wasting their one opportunity to strike at Alduin, preferring for reasons she couldn't even begin to understand to focus all their attention on driving out the Empire. And so, after rather smugly delivering the confirmation to Balgruuf that his golden Thane had abandoned his senses and joined the rebellion, no doubt intending to unseat Balgruuf if he himself didn't do the same, Morgen and Jenassa had headed out toward Solitude. It appeared that, in spite of every ounce of common sense she had, the Civil War would have to take precedence. She could only hope Alarik's obstinacy didn't get them all killed.

---

High in the palace of the city of Windhelm, Alarik paced his room, listening to the crackle of the fire burning on the other side of the room. Lydia was still in the bed, naked as the day she was born and deeply asleep; she hadn't stirred when he'd gotten out of bed, and if she woke now, he had no intentions to tell her of his troubles. In all his years, Alarik had learned that there were few things more inadvisable for a man to do than tell his lover that he was thinking of another woman, no matter how platonic--how hateful--that thought might have been.

And, damn it all, he was thinking about her. Why Akatosh had seen fit to bestow the gift of the Dragonblood upon another--upon a milk-drinking elf-lover like that damn woman--was beyond him, and more to the point, it was counter-productive. There couldn't have been two more opposite and contradictory people than himself and his fellow Dragonborn; while he held Skyrim's best interests at heart in all things, whether it be the prophecy of Alduin or the tyranny of the empire, the woman seemed to simply view Alduin as the empire's only hurdle to retaking the freedom of Skyrim's people and subjecting them all to the whims of Aldmeri Dominion. What good did she think defeating Alduin would be, he wondered, if they simply found themselves enslaved to the elves instead?

He should have killed her when he had the chance, he realized. And he'd had the chance, over and over, and yet not once had he thought it was something he would ever actually need to do; the woman was a Nord, not a damn Imperial or one of those elf-begotten Bretons, and surely, he had thought, the woman would open her eyes up to reality sooner or later?

But now time was running out and she hadn't. He had thought that perhaps she had come to her senses on that day a few weeks ago, when she'd shown up at the palace, freezing cold and red-faced from the wind with that greyskin woman in tow, but it had been just another disappointment. He'd had to run her from the palace to keep her from harassing Ulfric with her peace council nonsense, as if she actually thought the Stormcloaks were going to deal with the likes of General Tullius and Elisif the Puppet Queen.

No, the Stormcloaks weren't going to lay down their arms until this war was over. They were going to free Skyrim from its Imperial occupation, and then they would drive Alduin from Mundus. And then, if the Thalmor dared to show their faces in the north again, the Stormcloaks would drive them out, too.

[15pairings] indecent exposure | Galen x Frost

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

This was originally going to be Hybrid Theory, Voyuerism

Title: Spy
Pairing/Rating: Ares/Rowan + Jack NC-17
Summary: Jack watches Ares/Rowan.
Warnings: nonconsensual voyeurism and the title's a pun

Title: Are You Ready?
Pairing/Rating: Galen/Frost NC-17
Challenge(s): T1-10. indecent exposure [15pairings (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/12045.html)]
Summary: Galen tries his hand at tempting Frost.

Are You Ready? [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

The young man was getting very forward. Galen Freed's interest in him had been obvious from the start, but Frost had to admit that the hadn't paid much attention to it until now. It was fairly common for the recent debuts to try attracting the most high-ranking lover they could, and the young man certainly wasn't the first to set his eyes at the top--and Frost was sure he wouldn't be the last. But in Frost's own experience, at least, Galen's persistence was second only to Loretta's, and there was little doubt that the man was taking Loretta's eventual success, however short-lived it had been, as inspiration.

Galen had certainly picked up on one thing before Loretta had, and that was the issue of Sparrow. Perhaps the difference was merely that they were married now, or perhaps it was that Loretta had given her young friend some more accurate advice in the past few weeks; Frost had certainly seen the two of them together often enough to entertain the idea of it. Perhaps Loretta, having surely noticed long ago that Sparrow's own preferences skewed more toward Galen than herself, thought the Freed boy might have better luck than she did.

Galen was certainly more persistent than Loretta had been, in any case. Loretta had only gained enough confidence to pursue what she wanted once she had her father's scheming on her side, and she'd given up with surprising ease after the revelation of her part in Octavian's scheming had brought Frost's temporary wrath down upon her. Galen, on the other hand, had at least no such advantage as either Donahue or his own parents' scheming. By all appearances, in fact, the Freeds seemed to have no inkling of their youngest son's obvious ambitions, and for the meanwhile, Frost was content to keep it that way; he still hadn't ruled out the possibility of going through with this. After all, there remained the chance, however slim, that Sparrow might eventually change her mind; the young man might seduce her yet.

On the other hand, Frost rather doubted Galen, as he was now, would have much luck in that department. For all Loretta may or may not have tried to help clue the young man in to status of Frost and Sparrow's relationship, he still didn't seem to quite understand what it meant for his attempted seductions--nor how to go about achieving them. Galen was still rather missing the point, by all appearances still failing to see that Sparrow was more than simply the spouse with whom he would have to make peace if he wanted access to the actual object of his affections. Sparrow, instead, was the key; the moment Sparrow consented to Galen, he could have whatever he wanted of Frost--and not a moment before.

But in the meantime, Galen was still focusing on Frost, his pursuit of Sparrow secondary and unfocused--better than Loretta's initial efforts, of course, but still a long way from anything that would bring him actual success--and yet his antics toward Frost were getting more daring by the day. Lately Galen somehow seemed to be in the Theatre whenever Frost and Sparrow were themselves, and if that meant Galen was spending all his time there on the off chance that the two of them might decide to visit, it only made things more amusing; tonight, Frost had spotted him the moment they'd walked into the dimly-lit room, and the sight that greeted him had brought a faint smirk of amusement to his lips in an instant.

Frost steered Sparrow away from him, determined not to make things too easy for the man, and the two of them settled into a little table in a dark corner at the back of the room, Frost's chair pulled up right beside Sparrow's to keep him within her range. And then he sat back and waited.

It didn't take the man long to spot them, and Frost's smirk widened at the way the young man's posture transformed as his gaze fell upon the two of them. In an instant, all pretense of nonchalance fell away, and Frost watched him work up the courage to head in their direction, slipping into that confident swagger and seductive smile just before he started toward them. Beside Frost, Sparrow followed his gaze, glancing in Galen's direction for just a moment, and Frost was almost sure he saw the faintest flicker of amusement on her face, too.

Avery/Rylan/Jackson sex pollen

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: Aliens Made Them Do It
Pairing/Rating: Avery/Rylan/Jackson NC-17
Summary: Avery, Rylan, and Jackson are exposed to something--be it a chemical, a spell, or a creature--that works, for all intents and purposes, as sex pollen. There's no resisting; the three of them are going to fuck in one configuration or another, and while Avery begrudgingly comes to terms with the idea of having sex with Rylan to make this nightmare end, Jackson keeps pushing his boundaries further and further. (And, hell, maybe it was Ion's idea all along.)
Warnings: dubcon (sex pollen), forced homo/bisexuality

Aliens Made Them Do It [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Agreeing to take Jackson along was quickly proving to be the stupidest thing Avery had ever done, and that was no small feat. But in the long list of ignorant, reckless decisions Avery had made at the various points of his life, this indeed was undoubtedly at the very top and growing more deserving of that position by the moment; if they didn't find some way to get out of this soon, Avery was never going to forgive himself for this.

And he certainly wasn't going to forgive them, either.

For their part, Rylan and Jackson were doing just what he'd told them, sitting down in opposite corners of the room and very purposefully avoiding the mistake of looking at each other--or, God forbid, him--while Avery kept working at the door, kept battering the hinges and the doorknob and even the bulk of the metal itself, but nothing seemed to be working. The damn thing didn't want to budge.

Finally, he had to pause to catch his breath, and he forced back down yet another wave of panic that threatened to quickly plunge him into hysteria if left unchecked, because how the fuck had he managed to get himself involved in this? They shouldn't have taken this case in the first place; he shouldn't have listened to Rylan and Jackson's arguments in its favor, because what the fuck did Jackson know about this? (And it couldn't have been more clear that Rylan was only going along with what her precious boyfriend wanted.) The idea of people being abducted by aliens was ludicrous, and while it certainly seemed now that Jackson had been right that there was a real case here beneath the bullshit--though Avery wasn't about to admit it, nor would he ever--they should have just walked away when they had the chance.

But no. They'd felt the inexplicable need to investigate the fucking aliens, and so here they were now, locked in a seemingly inescapable metal room while what was perhaps the world's most suspicious chemical flooded in through the vents. Avery was going to kill Jackson for this, on the off chance that they actually made it out alive.

And there wasn't any mistaking exactly how suspicious this whole thing was. The room was filling up, the air growing more contaminated as each moment passed, and the most disconcerting bit of it wasn't just that it was happening but that it had clearly been designed to frighten them before it did anything else, to poison their last few clear-minded minutes with the terror of anticipation--as if Avery needed to be any more afraid of that than he already was. If he was right about what that gas would do, he might actually have just preferred to die.

"Avery," Jackson's impatient voice cut through his frenzied thoughts as he paused to rest against the cool metal slab, "we'd stand a better chance of actually getting out of here if you'd let us help."

"Stay," Avery repeated, his voice tight and loud with barely restrained fury, "there. I don't want either one of you anywhere near me."

Rylan's eyes were wide as she looked back at him, and he wasn't sure if it was because she didn't know what he was so scared of--or because she did. "Then move away from the door so one of us can try," she argued. "You're tired, and you're not going to get through that door on sheer determination. Let Jackson try."

Avery swore under his breath. "Rylan, we are not supposed to get out of here. No one else has; they're not going to let us out of here until after... until after they're done with us."

Jackson gave him the most skeptical look he'd seen yet, and Avery's nerves were already so on edge that it nearly set him off even before the other man spoke. His muscles twitched, anxious and overwhelmed, and he closed his eyes, counting down from ten as Jackson began. "What exactly do you think they're going to do to us? They're not going to kill us; people know we're here. They'd have their whole... whatever this is exposed."

"What the fuck do you think?" he hissed, glaring at the other man. Christ, he was sick of him. Why couldn't this bastard do what all of Rylan's other boyfriends had done and keeping their fucking noses out of his job? Why couldn't Rylan hurry up and ditch this guy? "They're going to do to us exactly what they did to everyone else."

Charon/Adrasteia + Caderyn voyeurism

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: Out of Sight
Pairing/Rating: Charon/Adrasteia + Caderyn R
Challenges:
Summary: Caderyn catches Charon and Adrasteia having sex in the old throne room.

Out of Sight [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Caderyn wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes--if he wasn't staring it at it, mouth agape in utter horror, at this very moment--and the more responsible side of him was currently making a valiant attempt to muster up the willpower to put a stop to whatever twisted thing was going on here. And yet the rest of him, the side of him that was still a young man and a warrior and very much not a king, could put together no such will. He stared blankly--numbly--and watched.

Not five minutes ago, the world had made sense. Caderyn had been looking forward to seeing Elizabeth or perhaps to seeking out Adrasteia to talk before dinner; they didn't speak nearly enough these days, not since he had taken his brother's throne and she had left with the tyrant himself in tow, taking him as far from the palace as she could in some vain hope of keeping him out of trouble while Caderyn tried to rule and Sigurd tried to search for the remnants of his people. But now that she was back--even if it meant that his brother was there, as well--he intended to spend as much time with her as possible, hoped to reassure her that she had his friendship if not his heart. Hoped to reassure himself that she didn't hold his marriage against him--that she understood it had only been for the good of their kingdom and that he would have gladly married her if he could. (Elizabeth, he knew, wouldn't have been thrilled to hear that part.)

But then the servant had come in, some mousy young maid he didn't recognize, a girl he might have seen every day without truly noticing or might simply have never laid eyes on before in his life. Either way, she came to him with wide, panicked eyes and a deeply flushed face while she quite vehemently insisted that she'd seen the former king breaking into the now-forbidden wing of the palace that had once been his throne room. And while Caderyn had rather doubted that veracity of such a claim, he had resolved himself to checking nevertheless; if Charon was skulking around up there, that was something Caderyn needed to know. The day had long since gone when he would put anything past his brother.

And so he had gone upstairs, had climbed staircases and opened doors that hadn't been used in two years, and he had indeed found his brother in the dark, dusty rooms that had once been the seat of his power. And within them, Charon was not alone.

As Caderyn neared the massive expanse of the intimidatingly dark and sinister room where Charon had once held court--where he had been defeated and dethroned two years ago by Adrasteia and Caderyn himself--he came to a sudden halt. He could hear unmistakable noises coming from the room beyond; the former king was quite clearly in flagrante, and Caderyn could only roll his eyes as he thought back on the request the man had made only a week before. He had asked for his mother's wedding ring, of all things, and had been at the time particularly reluctant to discuss why he wanted it--or who he wanted it for. To say Caderyn's interest had been piqued would be a vast understatement; the notion that Charon had somehow managed to convince a woman--no doubt some vapid noblewoman or class-climbing peasant who failed to understand just how far his brother's position had fallen--to marry him had a certain note of absurdity. From what Caderyn had seen the past few weeks, Adrasteia had him as firmly under her thumb as possible; he was still defiant and abrasive and generally the same rather uncharismatic man Caderyn had always known him to be, but Caderyn had been shocked to detect a note of genuine submission about him, a deference to Adrasteia's leadership that could only have shocked him more if he hadn't known just how magnetic Adrasteia could be. The woman inspired people, drew people to her like moths to a flame, and so perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised that his brother fell to the same trap they all did; Adrasteia had tamed Charon just as she'd done with Caderyn, Erynis, and all the rest of them.

But Caderyn hadn't appreciated, apparently, just how she'd managed to do that to his brother.

[15pairings] men | Simon x Sam, first time

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

This was originally going to be Cailan/Grey Wardens gang-bang, poss dub-con, humiliation.

Title: The King's Dream
Pairing/Rating: Cailan/Duncan, Cailan/Alistair, Cailan/Lyna, Cailan/Warden(s)
Challenges: Prompt (http://ift.tt/1ZUyGRU)
Summary: Trapped in the Fade (http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Fade#Chantry_teachings), King Cailan relives the hours preceding the Battle at Ostagar in a very different fashion.
Warnings: dubcon (magical impersonation), humiliation kink

Title: Flexible
Pairing/Rating: Simon/Sam
Challenges: T7-11. men [15pairings (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/12045.html)]
Summary: Simon's first positive/consensual experience with a man is with Sam Noble.
Warnings: mild consent issues due to outside circumstances

Men [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

A body collapsed into the armchair opposite him, but Simon paid it no mind. It would be Sam, no doubt; it was certainly too bulky to be Gwen or Izzy, and the rest of the older victors at least had the luxury of getting the fuck out of this perverse little apartment complex right off the Circle's goddamn "Theatre". And it wasn't like it was going to be any of the bastards in the Circle; if there was one good thing about this place, it was that they at least left him the fuck alone here.

"You okay?" came the unavoidable question, and Simon just rolled his eyes as he brought his tepid can of beer back to his mouth. Of course he wasn't fucking okay. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

Sam Noble was victor #120 to Simon's own #123, and for all the years he'd been here, reduced to nothing more than a plaything of the Circle, Simon would've thought he'd know better than to ask if another victor was "okay"--or at least to take no for an answer when it came to talking about why it distinctly wasn't. But, perhaps rather expectedly since the rest of Simon's life had already gone to shit anyway, he didn't; the other man pressed on, a look of concern on his face that might have been subtle if Simon didn't already know what game he was playing at.

But Sam Noble was not going to make him feel better. The idea of feeling better was a pipe dream at this point; there were few things more unlikely than that.

"Who were you with?" he asked, playing the role of pushy bastard perfectly. A qualified therapist he was not. "Not Donahue?"

Simon shook his head, fully intending to put as little effort as possible into this. Perhaps if he was sullen enough, Sam might just go away.

He had no such luck. "Who, then?"

For a moment, the words "go fuck yourself" were right on the tip of Simon's tongue; Sam neither needed nor deserved the answer, and Simon didn't have any real reason to share his shame with this veritable stranger. But, in the end, he was only trying to help; he'd been here for years, after all, and he hadn't gone insane yet. Perhaps there was something Sam knew that Simon didn't; he should probably put a bit more effort into hearing him out, at the very least.

"Frost."

Sam nodded. "Ah. New Chancellor. That explains why you're looking so..." He gestured vaguely toward Simon's person, and Simon raised a skeptical brow.

"So what?" he demanded, not really caring to hear the answer but put off by the accusation nonetheless.

"Shell-shocked," the other man answered simply.

"And how does that explain it?"

Sam shrugged. "He just jumped to highest position of power in the entire Circle. Of course he's taking advantage of all the little... perks of his new job. At least it's not Donahue."

"He's not much better," Simon said bitterly, staring down at his can. "Donahue's a bastard, but this guy's almost worse. Donahue just uses you; Frost..."

"I know. Though he hasn't taken as much interest in me or Gwen as he has you and Izzy. I'm sure it's that he knows I'll be leaving soon, assuming nothing goes wrong with the next Cull; you, though... well, I suppose I'm not really helping anything pointing that out, am I?"

Simon took another drink. "I don't suppose you are."

"I would try to say 'look on the bright side'," Sam said with a sigh, "but that's bullshit. We can look on the bright side all we want, but that doesn't change a thing. Even if a few of them bother doing things we don't mind--even if one or two of them lets us do what we enjoy--we're still being raped. We're still fucking slaves. The only bright side here is that once they start to lose interest in us, they'll eventually let us go."

Simon let out a tiny, derisive snort. "And then what?" he demanded. "What am I supposed to do after that? Pretend this never happened? Pretend they can't just call me back here whenever they want, do whatever they want to me all over again. There isn't freedom after this. How many victors end up married to the Circle or become some kind of... kept lovers, anyway?"

[citrus-taste | Kinkier Table] 44. masturbation

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: Erotica
Pairing/Rating: Sparrow/Frost NC-17
Challenges: 44. masturbation [citrus-taste (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/30759.html) | Kinkier Table]
Summary: Imagine B [Sparrow] finding an erotic novel in A’s bookshelf. While A [Frost] is busy, B lays on the couch and starts reading it. The novel is a little boring at first but then, B starts to get aroused as they keep reading and end up masturbating, thinking A won’t notice. A hears a little whimper and stops doing what they were doing to look at B. A touches themselves while looking at B doing it. B throws the novel away just few pages before finishing and ends up having hot sex with A on the couch. source (http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/128926839051/imagine-b-finding-an-erotic-novel-in-as)

Erotica [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Sparrow was undeniably bored. Hyde had taken the day of, which normally wouldn't be a problem; Sparrow would just spend her day with Simon and Nadia it one of the other, but today found both of their schedules full, and so here Sparrow was, sitting once again in Frost's office with absolutely nothing to do.

The last time Sparrow had found herself in this situation, she had occupied herself with Frost, had ordered him onto his desk and fucked him, but she was loathe to do it again; she still recalled what he'd said afterward, so recalled the fantasy need explained to her, and she rather suspected that this time, he would actually want to see it fulfilled. It wasn't that she was particularly adverse to the idea--punishing him like that certainly had its appeal--but it wasn't what she wanted now. She would prefer to save that little scenario for another day.

But that left her with nothing. She couldn't pass the time with Frost, and he was just about the only interesting thing in the room; she could always break out her handheld, but she still barely trusted herself with the thing, and that left just one source of potential entertainment in the room: the bookshelf.

It wasn't often that Sparrow saw Frost read, but it was clearly a hobby of his--albeit one that had apparently taken a backseat to his much more prominent interest in her--and the immodest collection of books in his office, not to mention the overabundance in the study, were a she sign of that. Whether he had actually read most of them or if these are merely here's for show, meant to impress his vapid Circle friends and political contacts, she didn't know... But whatever the case, that didn't mean she couldn't take a look at them herself, did it?

"Mind if I read?" she asked, rising from her chair and heading toward the nearest shelf.

"Not at all," Frost said, not even glancing up from his tablet, and Sparrow paused a moment, listening to the quiet scritch-scratch of his pen across the page as he jotted down handwritten notes like an utter caveman. Shrugging, Sparrow turned back to the shelf and started to read the spines.

There was a method to the madness, she quickly discovered. One shelf was devoted to nonfiction, a wealth of topics ranging from politics and law to the history of art and literature to whatever the hell "antiquated astrology" and "spiritual psychology" were. The shelf beside it was much the same, covering world history and sciences she she had actually heard of before, but the two topmost shelves of the structure were occupied by fiction, and it was here that Sparrow decided to begin.

Sparrow made it through only a few titles before she picked up on the trend, and she car a skeptical glance back at Frost. He didn't notice. What Sparrow had noticed, however, was that the selection of books on the most important office in the world was not exactly what she had imagined it to be... though not particularly surprising in retrospect, either. Frost had what looked like two shelves of not the contemporary or historical fiction she'd been expecting, but rather dozens of what she was fairly sure was erotica.

Neither particularly disbelieving--because she wouldn't put this post anyone in the Circle, let alone Frost himself--nor entirely convinced of what she was looking at--because who the hell put this kind of nonsense in their office?--Sparrow reached out, plucked the nearest book from the shelf, flipped it over, her eyes scanning the back cover blurb.

Yes. This was definitely erotica.

Eying the other books suspiciously--surely they couldn't all be smut--Sparrow hesitated a moment before admitting that she had to know, if only out of morbid curiosity--and it certainly wasn't as if she had any real reason to resist. One by one, she pulled books out, skimmed their summaries, and replaced them, and every single book she tried was the same; it was all erotica, verging more into the realm of outright porn than anything resembling romance, and Sparrow cast yet another bewildered glance back at Frost.

What the hell.

[alphabetasoup] Hades | Sparrow x Frost

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: The Rape of Persephone
Pairing/Rating: Sparrow/Frost NC-17
Challenges: H is for Hades [alphabetasoup (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/14967.html)] | 30. innocent [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Chocolate Chip Mint (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/19351.html#chocolatechipmint)] | 4. terror [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Chocolate Chili (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/21793.html#chocolatechili)] | 23. picking berries [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Strawberry Banana (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/22106.html#strawberrybanana)]
Summary: Surely, Sparrow thought, she was safe; even a man as perverse and insatiate as her father wouldn't sink so low as to touch her. It's a pity, then, that she forgot her uncle. [see (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Incest_in_folklore#Greek) + this (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melinoe) and this (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zagreus)]
Warnings: noncon/dubcon, forced marriage, forced incest (uncle/neice)

The Rape of Persephone [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Note: This is going to be a very loose adaptation of the Persephone myth (plus a few others) with Parabellum characters assigned to the various roles. The largest difference I can state up front is that Zeus's role in the plot will be combined with Demeter's.

The main roles will be played by Sparrow (Persephone), Frost (Hades), and Octavian (Zeus/Demeter). Minor roles will be played by Simon (Adonis), Nadia (Aphrodite/Artemis), Loretta (Aphrodite/Hera), Izzy (Athena), Idris (Poseidon for lack of a better option), and possibly Seth (Ares).

So we'll see how this works out.

---

Nadia sometimes pitied her youngest sister, and it was for the very same reasons that she envied her. The girl was naive, young and innocent and still untouched, and she was utterly confident in her safety, even as their father watched her like he did; somehow it had simply not yet occurred to her that she was in the same danger that the nymphs and the mortals were, didn't yet realize that even her sisters weren't immune, as they had led her to believe.

At some point in the near future ,they all knew--save Sparrow--that they would finally learn whether this deception, committed of Nadia and Loretta's own volition but eagerly encouraged by their father, had been the right thing for the girl. After all, Sparrow was the skittish type, strong-willed and liable to run once the danger became clear, and while Nadia and Loretta hoped to keep their sister innocent and safe for a long as they could, Octavian hoped to keep her there.

And eventually, their father would finally make his move. Nadia could only hope that once he did, Sparrow didn't make the wrong decision. Octavian's wrath was not something she wished to see again. Not against another of her sisters.

---

Sparrow had never met either of her uncles, and if her father had his way, she wouldn't meet them tonight, either. For the first time in centuries, generations in the fleeting lives of mortals, the three of them--Octavian, King of the Gods and Lord of the Earth; Frost, Lord of the Underworld; and Idris, Lord of the Seas--were gathering together in the Hall atop the Mountain, and while both of her sisters had been invited to attend the feast on their honor, Sparrow's own request to join them had been summarily denied. Octavian had all but forbidden her from joining them, and what Sparrow couldn't begin to guess was why.

Perhaps there was a good reason for it. Sparrow knew very little about her uncles, after all--knew nothing more substantial than their respective names and domains--and it was entirely possible that her father might in fact have a perfectly valid, noble reason to separate her from them. But if it existed, she couldn't name it, and her sisters weren't willing to supply it, either. Try as she might to get the answer from them, her efforts to persuade them bore no fruit; both Nadia and Loretta seemed determined to keep her in the dark, holding to their silence so thoroughly that in spite of all her efforts in the weeks leading up to the festivities, Sparrow was no closer to understanding than she had been at the start. And she wasn't about to stand for that.

From high in her tower of the Hall, hidden away behind more guards than she could count and doors she didn't have the skill or the strength to unlock, Sparrow knew the moment her father's guests arrived. It wasn't as if anyone was keeping it from her; quite to the contrary, her uncles were announced by a veritable explosion of fanfare, lightning and thunder and the deep rumble of the Earth, and Sparrow's tower shook. Which of them felt the need for such drama, she couldn't begin to guess, but tonight she was grateful for it. It was her cue.

Once she had watched them all disappear into the Hall, far away from any point that would let them see her tower or what she might be doing in it, Sparrow moved. Out the window, down the ivy, and onto the roof she scurried, heading toward her eldest sister's empty room. Loretta would already be at the feast by now, so she had nothing to fear as she dropped herself onto the balcony, landing hard on her feet but pleased with her success, and she slipped silently into first the room and then the hall beyond.

Dark!Hera/everyone AU *no Terra!*

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: Dark Energy source (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quintessence_(physics))
Pairing/Rating: NC-17 Hera/Ciel, Ciel/Kalani, Hera/Lysander, Hera/Volkan, Hera/Thane, Thane/Volkan, Lysander/Thane, Lysander/Volkan
Summary: Dark!Hera AU. Like in canon, Hera and Ciel get together. Unlike in canon, Hera 100% approves of Ciel/Kalani. In fact, she's inspired (she really wanted that orgy, after all).
Cue a super dark AU featuring: dom!Hera/dom!Ciel, dom!Ciel/sub!Kalani, and various permutations of dom!Hera/slave!Lysander/slave!Volkan/slave!Thane. (Ciel may or may not get his hands on the guys, too. Can't say I really care.)
Warnings: noncon, dubcon/mindbreak, imprisonment/slavery, incest (brother/sister, cousin/cousin, brother/brother), forced homo/bisexuality

Dark Energy [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

The lot of them were prudes. Hera had known it before--known it of her cousins, at least--but she had assumed that the impending spiritual apocalypse would be enough to get them over that particular personality flaw. It hadn't. The moment she had proposed that the six of them try to make the best of what was very likely to be their last night among the living, she had been met with incredulity and sneers. The only one who had seemed remotely interested in the idea had been Ciel, and so it was to him that she gravitated later, after it became clear that it had not, in fact, been the night of their demises.

It was with him that she fought against the encroaching tide of the spirits and drove back the horde of the dead.

It was with him that she stormed the Temple of the Spirit and drove the Spirit Herself back to the Otherworld.

It was with him that she ensured their parents would not be returning to reclaim their thrones now that the crisis was over.

And it was with him that she brought the rest of them, those prudish fools, to heel.

Hera could still see it in their eyes sometimes. It had only been a few weeks, of course, so she wasn't the least bit surprised by their resistance--truth be told, she suspected she would have been a tad disappointed if they had rolled over for her too easily--but she looked forward to seeing it fade from them until at last they knew their place.

The Spirit had sought to change the world, and while Her plan certainly didn't come to pass as She had intended, the world had been changed nevertheless; Hera and Ciel had seen to that. It was only a matter of course that the empire had bowed to the Quintessential in the end. Now if only she could make them do the same, all would be as it was intended.

Hera walked through the halls of the palace, her heels clicking on the smooth stone floor as she ascended into the tower. It had been several days since she'd been upstairs, her duties having seemed to pile on all at once, and while she was inclined to blame it on the incompetence of her new host of advisers, she instead welcomed the distraction. It wasn't that she particularly wanted the work; quite to the contrary, she found herself using the work merely as a distraction, a way to keep her busy enough that she would have a genuine reason to avoid the tower for a few days and leave the care of her pets to her husband.

She didn't doubt they would be pleased to see her today.

Unfortunately, it had meant that Hera had been forced to spend the last few days in very close proximity with her sister-in-law. Normally, she didn't mind Kalani in the least; the girl was as docile as docile could be, submissive and well-trained and a general delight to be around. But when it came to trying to run a kingdom, the woman had a tendency to simply get in the way, and while Hera would have loved to send her away so she could get her work done without the distraction, part of her work for the past few days had been to keep Kalani distracted. If she didn't, the woman would inevitably end up at her brother's side, and the last thing Hera wanted was for Ciel to hand off the tower's caretaking to his sweet sister. Her boys wouldn't learn a thing under that woman's care.

Hera slid the key from her around her neck and unlocked the door to the tower, then locked it again securely behind her. It wasn't the most necessary thing in the world, given the other precautions in place, but there was no sense in tempting fate. She doubted anything could turn the people against their Quintessential now, but she had little interest in testing that; the less her people thought about the princes, the better she would feel.

Hera slipped the key into its hiding place, the one she was sure even Ciel knew nothing of, and then slid the false key onto the chain around her neck before removing that, too, and stashing it away in a much more easily found cubby hole. It Ciel or Kalani or any of the others went poking around, it was this key that they would find. And whoever was fool enough to use it would quickly learn of the tower's other fortifications.

Buzzing with anticipation, Hera walked quickly to the next set of stairs and raced to ascend. It was more than time for her to see her boys.

demon!Rylan x Avery x Ion, dubcon (Susanne & Myles Die AU)

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: Evermore
Pairing/Rating: Rylan/Avery, Rylan/Ion, Avery/Rylan/Ion
Challenges: 2. dark path [50-darkfics (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/9751.html)]
Summary: When Myles and Susanne are mysteriously killed, Avery is convinced that Ion was behind their slaughter.
Warnings: protagonist journey to darkness

Evermore [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Note: The original draft of this section was written quite a while ago. It has been expanded and edited for 29 Days of Smut 2016.

When he had first heard the news, Avery's rage had burned white-hot through his grief, and his mind had been set in an instant. Myles and Susanne were dead, not six months after Rylan's resurrection, and there was no pretending that he didn't know why. For all he had hoped--had just short of prayed--that the game had ended with her loss, that he could even begin to dream of moving on from the deaths of the two women for whom he'd ever cared, Ion would never let that happen. In his anguish, Avery had strayed from the path Ion intended for him, and now his only other friends were dead.

He could only hope that Rylan hadn't been the one to do it.

---

The journey to the Pine Barrens took two days, and Avery made his way across the country fueled by only caffeine and fury. Once and for all, he was going to kill that fucking bastard, and if Rylan or any of the rest of those monsters killed him for it afterward, so be it. He probably deserved it at this point. Heaven knew he'd already let everyone down.

The forest took no pity on him, and it was another two days of water, drugstore sandwiches, and wandering before he managed to replicate the path he'd seen Rylan take so many times. Too many times.

But finally, even as a man who couldn't hear the Call, Avery made it to the Otherworld, and whatever qualms he may have had about his plan disappeared as he passed through the barrier into what might as well have been Hell. Ion was going to die, no matter what any of these people had to say about it. No one was going to be able to stop him.

And yet, as Avery marched toward the cottage where he'd last seen the two of them, he could feel his own resolve fading away. There were countless eyes on him, innumerable demons watching him pass through their midst, but they let him go on unimpeded. No doubt they recognized him by now, even if they hadn't expected to see him again.

Much to his surprise, Avery found Ion within minutes--or rather, Ion found him.

"Avery," he said in greeting, acting for all the world at of they were just estranged friends. As if what had happened with Rohan had somehow changed things between them. "What a surprise. I honestly didn't expect to ever see you again. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Try as he might to harness the burning hatred and wrath that he'd been steeped in for days, it failed him now, drained away by the Otherworld. Perhaps, he thought, he had best leave before it took any more than that; perhaps he could lure Ion out of the Other Realm somehow, so it would at least be slightly fairer fight.

"Myles and Susanne are dead," he heard himself say, succumbing more to the disassociation as each minute passed. "The last two people in the world I cared about were just murdered. You know exactly why I'm here."

Ion just looked at him with laughter in his eyes, as utterly dismissive as be could be. "We didn't kill your friends, Avery. In fact, the reason we're here, Rylan and I; she wants me kept very far away from anyone she might still happen to love." His lips curved into a small smirk. "She isn't going to be happy to see you like this."

Avery hesitated. The urge to see Rylan... the Other Realm was drawing it out of him, and he was having a hard time suppressing it. Dear God did he hate this place. "Will she try to kill me?"

Ion had the audacity to roll his eyes. "Please. She wants you alive--you specifically and your little friends to boot. She won't be happy to hear your news... And as a matter of fact, unless you are inclined to break it to her yourself, I fear I may decide to simply... forget it. A century from now, it'll hardly matter anyway."

Avery was about five seconds away from deciding he'd had enough and fleeing this Eldritch nightmare while he still had a chance. But he couldn't do that to Rylan, not even after what she'd become. She had to know about Susanne. If anything could get through to her, it was the thought that Ion had broken his promise. And the monster undoubtedly had, even if he seemed surprisingly reluctant to confess.

"I won't let you do that."

Dom!M!Dragonborn x slave!Ancano x slave!Ondolemar, mindbreak

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: Altmer Beware
Pairing/Rating: M!DB/Ancano, M!DB/Ondolemar (M!DD/Estormo?)
Summary: Non-serious/pure kink harem fic inspired by this DA kmeme prompt and Etienne Sailor Beware. I'm looking for filth here. Absolute goddamn filth: harem/slave kink, m/m noncon/dubcon, maybe muscle kink for the dom, and emphasis on resistance/dislike from the subs toward the dom and one another.
Warnings: noncon, imprisonment/enslavement, fantasy racism, humiliation, mindbreak(?)

Altmer Beware [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Note: This is actually the second take of this prompt. I drafted a bit less than a thousand words for another take on it, but it was going nowhere fast, so it ended up scrapped. That draft can be found here (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/47903.html?thread=215583#t215583).

Erich was a King the likes of which Skyrim hadn't seen for generations. He was noble and brave, willing to do for now people much more than either Elisif or Ulfric would have in his place. And he was much more powerful than either of them could have ever dreamed of becoming, his powers granted to him by Akatosh himself. Erich was the King Skyrim deserved, and as he walked upstairs into the highest rooms of Castle Dour, Erich intended to get what he deserved, as well.

He knew they weren't going to be happy to see him, because they certainly never had been before. But they would do as terms, would do anything and everything he asked of them because their lives and their wellbeing depended on it. And, really, what he had to offer them was much more than they deserved. Had Ulfric become High King instead, they would both be dead.

Erich walked into his chambers with warm buzz of anticipation that he could only partially blame on the wine. He had been away for days, checking reports of activity near the old Thalmor embassy, and he had sent a few dozen more of their agents off to Aetherius. He was more than ready to take a night to relax, and he couldn't think of a better way to do it than this.

Neither of them turned when he entered, their expressions sullen and their eyes downcast. Truth be told, he was a bit disappointed; they clearly weren't surprised by his arrival, so it seemed one of the servants had let slip that he'd returned. A pity. Catching them off guard would have been the perfect way to start the fun.

Shrugging of his cloak, Erich neared the shrine of Talos in the center of his room, and his slaves watched him warily as he approached. They were changed at the statue's feet, the thick leather collars on their necks bound by heavy steel chains to the god's stone wrists. The cuffs on their own wrists made sure they couldn't escape their bonds until he wished it--and that they couldn't use their magic even after the poison wore off.

Smiling to himself, he appraised them as he stripped away his clothes. Ondolemar and Ancano were still sitting far away from each other, as far as their chains would allow them to go, and there was a certain amusement in that. Two years ago, back when he'd first brought them to heel and introduced them to their new lives, Erich had expected the opposite response; he had assumed they would band together, unite against him and commiserate in the face of their shared fate. And yet even now, even after all he had made them to do both himself and one another, they still could hardly seem to stand each other. A pity.

"You've been well taken care of while I've been gone, I hope?" Neither of them answered, and Erich grinned. "I won't stand for the servants neglecting you. You need your strength, at the very least."

They both still refused to look at him, especially now that his clothes lay in a pool of fabric at his feet, and Erich squatted down in front of them and to hold off the younger Mer's chin. "I'm talking to you, elf," he said, though he wasn't quite as put off as the words made him sound. "I'm gone for the days and you forget how to treat your master?"

Ondolemar's eyes flashed at the reminder of his ownership, a deeply ingrained negative reaction from a man who was taught his entire life that he was meant to own slaves, not to be one. Erich still hadn't quite managed to break that from him, though the elf at least had the sense now to hold his tongue against the urge to protest aloud. That alone has taken quite a while.

"Answer me."

His eyes burning with hatred, Ondolemar's jaw moved in Erich' s hand as he finally did as he was bid. "No."

Erich's brow arched toward his hairline. "No?" he repeated, finding a particular amusement in the sudden panic in the Altmer's eyes. "No, the servants haven't been taking care of you? No, you haven't forgotten anything while I've been gone? Or no, you won't answer me?"

Domme!Esmeralda x slave!Scorpius x slave!Octavius, noncon & mindbreak

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: And Despair source (https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/796225-instead-of-a-dark-lord-you-would-have-a-queen)
Pairing/Rating: Esmeralda/Scorpius, Esmeralda/Octavius, Octavius/Scorpius
Challenges:
Summary: Inspired by this DA kmeme prompt (http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15866.html?thread=59884794#t59884794). In a reversal of the Untitled Scorpius/Octavius/Esmeralda AU scenario, Esmeralda returns to Geneva Colonia and does to the Tiber brothers what they (or at least Octavius) would have done to her. Scorpius is as fucked as ever, no matter who's in control.
Warnings: noncon, dubcon/mindbreak, forced incest (brother/brother), villain protagonist

And Despair [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

It was nothing more than what they would have done to her. She had suspected it all along, but now that she had them within her grasp, she had gotten the confirmation she had wanted all along. The elder brute didn't bother pretending he was anything but; he had worn a malicious smile on his face while he told her what he had planned to do with her--and with his younger brother--as the other man, bound and broken and brought to his knees just like the elder, looked on in horror.

But that had been months ago, and they warmed up to her considerably since then. After almost two decades of oppression, the Tiber brothers had truly been put back in their place.

Esmeralda yawned as she stretched beneath the silken covers of her bed. The moon was rising outside, and as it did, so did she. The tunnels had changed her, instilled in her a pointed dislike of the daytime sun, and so she had clung to her nocturnal routine upon her return to the surface. She heard the whispers, of course, heard that the peasants and the servants and even her father's old advisers had taken it as a sign that she had really with the demons deep within Gatelin to reclaim be throne, but she couldn't pretend she minded a word. It was best they knew, best they understood what she had gone through and sacrificed to free then from the tyranny of the Empire, and best by far that they recalled whose power kept then safe.

She wasn't hiding anything from them anymore.

Esmeralda rose, naked in the dark room, and walked to the fireplace. With pointed fingertips, she lit the flames and smiled to herself as she turned back to her audience. She remembered the first time the brute had seen what she could do, remembered the way he had raved and ranted about demons and witchcraft and magic he couldn't begin to understand, and all that she had done that day, too, had been to light the fireplace for them. At least he had learned to kept his condemnations to himself after that.

Her eyes scanned over the both of them, the younger still fast asleep in her bed and the elder glaring at her from the confines of his cage. She gave him an innocent smile that he met with the same look of utter hatred he had worn for months, and she laughed as she walked back towards the bed.

"Scorpius, darling," she said softly, running her fingertips through his short golden hair, "I need you to get up."

His eyes flickered open immediately, glazed with sleep at first until they settled on her and focused sharply. She remained quite pleased with how alert he was, even now; she had created in the beginning that she may have to come too far into his mind to earn his complacence, might ultimately risk taking too much of his will and leaving him broken and empty in the wake of her manipulations. But he had done so well, had bowed to her demands with surprising ease, and perhaps in the end, being married to him wouldn't have been the worst fate in the world. Even before Gatelin, she suspected this was a man she could have brought to heel.

His brother, however... Octavius was a man used to his own dominance, a man who expected others to submit as a matter of course, and so even now she was still struggling with him. As with the younger, she was loathe to break him; though as the weeks went on, she was beginning to suspect that it might be her only course of action. Eventually, much as she hates to think of it, the man would need to either submit to her sovereignty or face his execution. He couldn't be permitted to challenge her throne, and while he was certainly no match for the powers of Gatelin, if his army descended upon her lands, she couldn't be entirely sure some fool wouldn't try what her mother had, wouldn't descend into Gatelin out of panicked desperation and inadvertently break her covenant. She certainly wasn't about to let that happen.

Scorpius sat up on the mattress, the sheets sliding down his torso to pool around his narrow waist. His gaze fell upon the cage at the far side of the room, but he made no move toward it yet; he knew much better than that, had long since learned the importance of waiting for her permission. From behind the iron bars, Octavius glared silently at the both of them, whatever hateful words he would have tried to utter locked securely behind his gag.

Dom!Sigurd x slave!Charon x slave!Caderyn x slave!Zephyrus (+ Adrasteia)

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: Draconian
Pairing/Rating: Sigurd/Charon, Sigurd/Caderyn, Sigurd/Zephyrus, Sigurd/Adrasteia, Charon/Caderyn, Charon/Zephyrus, Caderyn/Zephyrus NC-17
Challenges:
Summary: The last Draconian is not who they thought he was. Non-serious/pure kink harem fic inspired by this DA kmeme prompt (http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15866.html?thread=59869434#t59869434) and Etienne Sailor Beware (http://exhentai.org/g/697756/5731cc3bb0/). Emphasis on resistance/dislike from the subs toward the dom and one another, with background Sigurd/Adrasteia.
Warnings: dark!hero, noncon, forced homo/bisexuality, forced incest (brother/brother), racism/speciesism

Draconian [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Charon had warned them all, had dedicated his life to driving the dragons and the draconians from his kingdom, and his idiot brother had seen fit to destroy it all. He had brought this beast into the heart of the palace and let him tear down everything Charon had accomplished, and his only consolation was that the beast had made sure Caderyn and his little friends got exactly what they deserved, too.

Though, unless he was much mistaken, two or three of them had escape the worst of it, had been allowed to walk away and flee the palace with little more than a warning that they should never return. The women, he was fairly sure, had been mostly spared; it was only the one, only the leader of them, the one who had tricked his weak minded fool of a brother into following her insane plan to help the draconian, who was still with them now. And he doubted she was suffering what they were; he certainly hadn't seen her since that day, so if she too was being tormented, she at least had the luxury of privacy. He wondered if he should actually envy that.

His own torment, unsurprisingly, had been and remained horrifically public, his humiliation laid bare for all the world to see. And try as he might to keep it from happening, there was nothing he could do to stop it. Charon was nothing if not a proud man, and when it had become clear what was going to happen to those of them who had not been ushered from the palace in the wake of the beast's takeover, Charon's mind had been set immediately; if he couldn't win, if he couldn't prevent the creature from doing this to him, couldn't prevent it from taking not just everything he'd built but everything he was, then Charon would die. Charon would provoke the monster into killing him, or else he would die by his own hands--whichever was easier.

And yet the creature had stopped him. The dragonkind had laughed in the face of his attempts at provocation, had met them with not a killing rage but cruel, malicious, outright sadistic wrath, and then Charon had seen his agency taken away completely. He had no access to weapons anymore, wasn't even allowed the use of his hands now the creature was keeping him either preoccupied or bound; trying to starve himself had been met with force-feedings, and any further attempts to provoke a reaction had only resulted in a gag that hadn't come off for more than a few moments a day for what had surely been weeks. Nothing Charon tried was working, and he hated the lot of them for doing this to him, hated the creature for violating him like this, hated his brother for making it possible, hated the women for escaping this fate, and hated that damn spy most of all, if only because he seemed to enjoy what the monster was doing to them. That, above all else, was most absurd.

Even now, he glared at the creature as it sat in his throne, addressing his human court as confidently as if the dragons had never fallen, and there was a part of Charon that wondered if the damn beast knew something he didn't. Where there dragons he had missed, after all, or was Charon merely paranoid? And if this Sigurd really was the last of the dragonkind, what did that mean for the world? What would happen when the monster died? Did draconians die like mortals did, or was he like a dragon and would need to be slain? And, perhaps worse than any other idea he could imagine, did this creature have some way to bring the others back--and what would happen to Charon and the others if he did?

Charon glanced at his brother, hate burning in his eyes. There had been a day, weeks or perhaps even months ago now, when Charon had simply reached his breaking point, had gotten his hands around his brother's throat and squeezed as hard he could until the monster pulled him off and tossed him like a ragdoll across the room. That was the last time he'd been allowed out of his restraints, but he didn't regret it for a moment; what he regretted was having failed to kill the little upstart.

And mark his words, he would make Caderyn pay if it was the last thing he ever did.

[citrus-taste] K-2. table

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: currently untitled canon Sparrow scene
Pairing/Rating: Sparrow/Simon/Nadia NC-17
Challenges: K-2. table [citrus-taste (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/30759.html)]
Summary: Simon and Nadia persuade Sparrow that they're not being coerced into consenting to the upcoming foursome. by which I mean they fuck her on the dining table
Warnings: consent issues all around

[citrus-taste] 26. harems | Harem/Parabellum Crossover

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

This was originally going to be Emily x Marik, switching, but I opted for something Parabellum instead.

Title: Duel
Pairing/Rating: Emily/Marik NC-17
Challenges:
Summary: Imagine person A [Emily] is usually more submissive during sex, but one day they are feeling aggressive and physically fight person B [Marik] for dominance. It gets pretty intense, with biting. Does B enjoy it? Who wins the fight?
Warnings: dubcon (Stockholm syndrome), minor violence

Title: Untitled Harem/Parabellum Crossover
Pairing/Rating: Frost/Sparrow/Nadia/Simon/Izzy/Suri + Loretta
Challenges: [citrus-taste (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/30759.html)] 26. harems
Summary: Frost takes the role of Gareth, while Sparrow takes the role of Soleil as his new bride. Nadia, Simon, Izzy, and Suri round out the rest of the marriage/harem, while Loretta and Octavian also play prominent roles.
Warning: dubcon (arranged marriage)

Untitled Harem/Parabellum Crossover [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Note: In order to preserve as many of Sparrow's for character elements as possible, I'll be leaving her background quite different from Soleil's. Unlike Soleil, who is the daughter of either a duke (assuming Gareth is still a king by the time I get around to beginning the story), Sparrow is a peasant who gets married to the king (Frost) through some very Cinderella-esque circumstances. And in Frost's own background, he also quite different from Gareth; while Gareth became an unexpected king via his successful duel with his brother, the Circle in this universe revolted against his predecessor (hell, I can even imply it's Gareth if I want). And while Octavian Donahue expected to be his successor, the Circle supported Frost's claim instead.

---

Everything about this was absurd. Had someone told Sparrow even a word of this a month ago, she would've laughed in their face. The sheer thought of being married at all was absurd, but finding herself struggling to find some way to turn down the King himself as to absurd to be believed even now. And yet here she was, being whisked away in the most extravagant carriage she had ever seen in her life by a group of terribly unfriendly palace guards who clearly weren't going to take no for an answer.

Sparrow's hands moved restlessly in her lap, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her short brown dress while she tried to repress the urge to bolt. Nothing good was going to happen when she made it to the palace. Either what the guards had told her would turn out to be a mistake, in which case she would no doubt find herself abandoned in the heart of the city with no way to get home, or else--or worse, it would prove to be true. She had no idea what she was going to do in that case. How exactly did someone to about trying to deny a king?

The carriage rolled on through the night, the incessant sound of hoof-beats from the horses stationed all around them like a mobile wall of flesh lulling her to sleep in spite of her growling stomach and rising dread. By the time they reached the city itself, the warm morning light slipping through the open window of the carriage had woken her from a dream she couldn't recall now that she was awake and so thoroughly distracted once more, plunged immediately back into her earlier dread. She knew they were in the city now, the unbelievable din and the stench of animals and overcrowding familiar to her by now, though she'd hardly spent any time here at all, and she longed to get back to the relative quiet of the town she left behind.

At best, it would take weeks in this city to earn enough money to travel home; at worst, she would never get out of this city again.

The farther they traveled into the city, the worse it all became. Everything was unbelievably loud and impossibly crowded, and the carriage slowed to a crawl as the guards ushered the peasants from its path. But as they finally neared the palace, it all started to fall away. There were lots people and more guards, a veritable army of them--more uniformed men and women than Sparrow had ever seen... until that night a week ago when she had first stepped foot in this terrible city.

As the guards opened the palace gate to let them in, Sparrow's heart started to race, pounding in her chest with all the frenzied panic of a caged beast facing its doom. This was a mistake. It had to be a mistake.

But as they ushered her out of the carriage and up the palace steps, no one have any sign that they even so much as suspected they might have gotten the wrong girl. If anyone was at all surprised to see a shabbily dressed, embarrassingly dirty peasant woman with wild, terrified eyes walking up the steps while looking for all the world as if she would've much preferred to run and hide, they said nothing. Everyone must kept acting as if somehow everything was normal. As if a bit of this made any kind of sense.

Sparrow was ushered away as soon as she stepped for inside the palace. But instead of being taken to the ballroom she had seen before, a tall, dark-haired man met her in the hall just beyond the foyer, and the smile he gave her was disarmingly pleasant. And yet she didn't doubt she was about to wipe it right off his face.

Avery/Jackson, Avery/tentacles/Jackson, Rylan/tentacles (+ Avery/Rylan/Jackson???)

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

This was originally going to be , but some kmeme reading prompted me to go for something a bit smuttier. *shrug*

Title: All These Voices
Pairing/Rating: F!DB/Mikael NC-17
Challenges: Prompt (https://www.evernote.com/shard/s216/nl/25672064/892b049a-8bcc-4545-9617-e4cf47a70f8a).
Summary: F!DB has been traveling with Erik “the Slayer” for a few weeks now, and while she really likes the kid, she's encountered a bit of a problem: she really likes the kid. Specifically, she really likes his (ie, Jason Marsden's) voice. But she's not about to take advantage of a guy that's, what, a few weeks past eighteen? Enter that sleazy bard, Mikael.

Title: Nameless Thing source (http://www.cryptopia.us/site/2010/01/nameless-thing-of-berkeley-square-england/)
Pairing/Rating: Avery/Jackson + Rylan
Challenges: [paranormal25 (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/10166.html)] 23. writer's choice (The Nameless Thing of Berkeley Square)
Summary: Give me Avery and Jackson, both captured by a tentacle monster and filled with its seed, desperately rutting against each other. And mind controlled into loving it. --Ripped off from this (https://www.evernote.com/Home.action?offer=www_menu#n=67053b1a-3ea8-4814-9a07-ccbbcc6898d5&b=12a1590a-efa3-4560-8289-c5e94bbcc094&ses=4&sh=1&sds=5&) dragonage_kink post.
Warnings: dubcon (mind control), forced bi/homosexuality

Nameless Thing [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Rylan still wasn't entirely sure what was going on, and the more she saw, the more baffled she was. This, whatever it was, was not a demon--or if it was, it was certainly unlike any she'd ever seen before. And whatever this thing happened to be, it seemed to have some kind of disturbing ability to mask itself; Rylan was looking right at it, and she still had the distinct sense that she couldn't see it. She was just as foggy now as she'd been in that hotel last year, when she and Avery had come into contact with something as unsettlingly other as this thing as now, and only now was it really sinking in to her mind that they hadn't come to any real conclusions on that case, either. The hotel had played with their minds, made them hazy and complacent, and sent them on their way with more questions than they'd had when they'd started out.

Rylan knew she wasn't going to leave here with any answers, either. If she left here at all.

Fighting a rising tide of panic, Rylan tested the thick wire mesh of the security door that had slammed down between them a few minutes ago, when they'd been all but convinced that there wasn't anything unusual about this warehouse at all. Before they'd been proven so very wrong. Though everything else in the building had seemed to dilapidated and easily overcome, this wall of metal between her and her boys was the first obvious anomaly in the place--if one neglected to count the creature, of course. It was shiny and seemingly new, no hint of rust or even dirt, looking as if it had been put into place hours before they'd arrived instead of decades. And yet from what she could see of this creature--a shapeless mass and writhing, prehensile tentacles--it wasn't as if it could've put the door in place itself; even if she couldn't seem to wrap her mind around what this was, it clearly wasn't something that could walk into a hardware store. And that meant there had to be someone else at work here--a man behind the monster.

Whoever the fuck that turned out to be, Rylan was going to take considerable satisfaction in blowing that person's brains out of their skull.

Rylan covered her ears, wincing as Avery started firing again, unloading his gun into where she was fairly sure the bulk of the creature stood. But if he managed it hit it, there was no obvious sign of its pain; there were no sounds of its agony, no visible injuries, no rush of blood over the concrete floor, just the continuous sway of the tentacles, thick and black and glistening wetly beneath the dim lights. When he finally stopped, Rylan seized the gate again and shook it with everything she had, and again she heard Avery scream for her to, "Stay there, goddamn it!", as if she planned to go in instead of letting them out.

Beside him, Jackson cast an uncertain glance back at her, and somehow that was the thing that tipped her past the breaking point into genuine fear; even after all the shit she'd drawn him into, even after all the horrible ordeals the three of them had endured so far, Rylan hadn't seen Jackson lose his cool once. If Jackson was frightened, it was only because he no longer believed they were going to win. And he'd thought them so infallible until now.

When it finally happened, it happened all at once. Rylan felt something slam into the back of her, hitting her hard just above her rear and slamming her face-first into the gate, and it was her own panicked scream that drew Jackson and Avery's attention from the creature in front of them for the first time since the gate had fallen. To his credit, Jackson's first instinct was to move, rushing toward her as if he actually had a plan--but he didn't get far. A tentacle the size of a boa constrictor grabbed him just as it had grabbed her, seized him around the waist and pulled him back so hard she feared he'd been hurt; and beside him, a series of smaller limbs descended upon Avery, coiling tightly around his wrists and his ankles and squeezing until the empty gun dropped from his hand and hit the concrete floor with a depressing finality.

If this thing planned to kill them, there wouldn't be anything they could do about it now. And yet Rylan still had the unsettling suspicion that it wasn't planning that at all.

Malene x Ancano, fantasy AU & arranged marriage

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: White and Gold inspired by the White-Gold Concordat, obviously
Pairing/Rating: Malene/Ancano M (NC-17?)
Summary: Imagine the members of your OTP are young royalty from different kingdoms and are arranged to be married from a young age. Neither of the two really like the idea of being forced to marry somebody for political reason but understand the situation and need to join their two kingdoms. The two finally officially meet a little before their wedding and person B ends up going on a small rant about the arrangement. Person A [Malene] suggest that they treat their marriage as it is, political, and continue to date other people. Person B [Ancano] likes this idea and both think of their marriage as nothing but political. After a while of living with each other, however, they wind up finding the other quite charming and later both develop feelings for each other. After a few different break ups on both of their ends they wind up realizing what they want is what those people could never give, each other. Later on the two decide to have a real wedding ceremony, designing it themselves and everything.
Warnings: racism/speciesism, dubcon (arranged marriage)

White and Gold [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

This wasn't what she wanted, and her only consolation was that it wasn't what her father had wanted, either. They had been forced into the White-Gold Concordat, the damnable treaty that had ruined her life and sold her to the Altmer like livestock. In a single, long swoop of her father's pen, Malene had gone from the heir to the Septim Empire to the powerless bride of some self prince she had never met, and she would live every day of the rest of her life in the Aldmeri Dominion. She was under no delusion that she was anything but a hostage now, a prisoner meant to keep her father in line. She had never had a bad thing to say about any of the Mer before, but now that they had stolen her life from her, she had a few choice words about the Aldmeri Dominion. And her new husband was going to hear every single one of them.

---

Ancano hated his father for this. The Altmer reproduced slowly, so slowly that in the man's nearly five hundred years, he had produced only five children; of them, Ancano was oldest and had for some time been considered his father's inevitable successor. But the man had lived five hundred years, and at over three hundred himself, Ancano was already pushing the expectations of his lifespan; people had by now begun to suspect that Ancano may die before his father, and that the throne may in fact pass to his sister Elenwen instead.

That, of course, was the reason for this farce. The White-Gold Concordat had been drafted to end the war between the Aldmeri Dominion and the Empire, but more importantly, its purpose had been to get the so-called "Dragon Princess" off the field. And the only way they could do that, the only way they could arrange to make sure she could no longer fight on her father's behalf--or, Auriel forbid, inherit her father's Empire and unite it under the rule of a Dragon Queen--had been to marry her off to one of the princes: Estormo, Rulindil, Ondolemar, or him.

That they had chosen him was the clearest dismissal he could imagine. If nothing else, it proved would never lay claim to his father's throne.

---

Had there been a single way to get out of this without causing the war to reignite and the Dominion to lay ruin to her father's kingdom, Malene would have taken it. Nearly anything would be better than this, for this was easily one of the worst things she could imagine happening to her. Few things, indeed, would so thoroughly take so much of her happiness from her at once; she was losing not just her home, her culture, her family, and her friends but her purpose itself. She was the Dragonborn, the protector of Skyrim and the Empire, and unequivocally understood to be the next Empress. And now, far from that, she would be the bride of some elf who hated not only her people and her gods but her namesake. She was Ysmir, Dragon of the North, the first Dovahkiin born in generations, and the successor to both Talos' titles and his legacy, and that made her everything the Dominion sought to destroy. And this plan... if she went through with it, she would surely be destroyed.

But she had no other choice.

So Malene packed up her things, said goodbye to her friends and family, and mourned the loss of everything she'd ever known as she left it behind forever. All she had been permitted to bring with her on her journey, save her wardrobe, was her small entourage of personal guards: Lydia, Argus, Calder, Gregor, Iona, Jordis, Rayya, and Vladimir. Not a one of them was Mer, and for that, at least, Malene was grateful; at least she wouldn't be the only outsider in the palace.

The journey that followed took weeks. The Dominion had stolen much land from the Empire over the last few centuries, but Malene had been living in Skyrim for the last few years, and so it was through first Skyrim and then Cyrodiil that she had to travel before she could board the barge that would take her to Summerset Isle. And all throughout her journey, there was a part of her that wondered if any of this at all was true, wondered if her father hadn't simply sent her to her inevitable death or if the Dominion had any genuine intentions of letting her become the human bride of one of their supposedly superior Altmer princes.

[Maze of Fiends] Mate or Die AU

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: Queens
Pairing/Rating: Emma/Anthony, Prina/Anthony, Emma/others, Prina/others NC-17
Challenges:
Summary: ...in which the death of Abigail triggers some kind of mating season in the hive. (Perhaps Prina lives in this version, so it's not just Emma suffering alone?) May or may not include transformation (body horror presumably including some of the front teeth falling out to be replaced by a row of incisors), with Emma having become one of them (are they still aunna? if not, wtf am I calling them?) by the end of it.
Warnings: character death (villain), noncon (gangrape), transformation/body horror

Queens [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

The most human sound Emma ever heard one of the fiends make was the horrible cry Prina let out of her lungs as the metal rod wall into her mother's chest. For a few brief microseconds, Emma mistook it for a shriek of anguish, a terrible wail of grief at the loss of the woman who birthed her. She was wrong.

Prina had a hold of her am in an instant, and Emma reeled on her, ready to defend herself however she could, but Prima had no such violent intentions. The fiendish woman pulled her down the hall at breakneck speed, fleeing from some danger Emma hadn't seen.

And then the exterior door slammed shut in front of them, and everything grew instantly worse.

Prina's father, the man her mother had referred to as Anthony back when she'd still been alive and furious and ranting about nothing Emma could have hoped to understand, stood in front of the thick metal slab, and Emma watched as he rolled the heavy lock into place. Prina, her hand still clutching Emma's upper arm, was visibly trembling. "Daddy, please." Emma had no idea what age was being for, but that she was terrified her. What could scare a monster?

"She killed Abigail," the fiend said calmly, clearly sharing in none of his daughter's fears. "You know what happens now."

Emma felt her eyes go wide, and while she wished someone would tell her what happened now, part of her was acutely aware that she didn't want to know.

"Then let me go," Prina begged, her nails curling into Emma's skin. "You don't need both of us."

The man have his daughter a sad smile, as if he wished he could have given her what she wanted. Emma fought a rising tide of panic behind her. "You know it's better for the hive if we have you both."

"Daddy," Prina asked again, her voice cracking, "please let me go."

Emma stared at the back of the blonde woman's head, horrified to hear the monster's fear. She was begging like a child, apparently so afraid of whatever she expected to happen after her mother's death that she was willing to beg her father for freedom, willing to seize her intended victim by the arm and try to lead her to safety--though Emma was also acutely aware that the woman was decidedly not asking her father to let her go, too, not now that it seemed the both of them were trapped in this god-forsaken maze of nightmares.

For a single, terrible moment, Emma wondered whether there was any point in trying it herself, in falling to her knees and begging for her freedom with all the earnest desperation of the fiend that had killed Ethan less than an hour right before her eyes.

And then the shrieking started, and Emma couldn't think about that anymore.

It was the high-pitched, ever-rising shriek of pure nightmare that Ethan had described to her two days ago, but it was so much worse than what he'd said. When he'd heard the noise, it had been Prina outside his door, signaling the beginning of her twisted game of hide and seek, but now Emma could hear so many more voices than that; there had to be dozens of them, perhaps a hundred or more voices joining together to form one terrible, incoherent tide of primal, alien noise, and this time, Prina looked every bit as terrified as Emma felt. She whirled on her heels, turning her back on her father to stare into the darkness behind Emma, where Emma was much too frightened to look herself.

"Wha--?" she started, and then the word was gone, crushed from her lungs as Prina's body slammed into hers.

The other woman hadn't moved, not of her own accord; it was Anthony, her father, who had launched himself at the both of them, lunging forward like a wildcat and knocking both of them off their feet with the full impact of his body. Emma let out a single, harsh cry of pain as her back hit the concrete floor, and then she was being crushed, Prina's body pinned on top of hers while Anthony held them both down with the same inhuman strength his daughter had been terrorizing them with for days.

M!Character/M!Werewolf (Beastiality, sounding, and pretty disturbing even by my standards)

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Title: Howl
Pairing/Rating: M!DB/M!Werewolf
Challenges: Prompt (https://www.evernote.com/shard/s216/nl/25672064/cee8b2c5-a9e1-4920-80b7-2f620b5d8e2b).
Summary: ...in which a particularly twisted M!DB (or other male character) attempts to see if they can fuck a captured werewolf's urinary tract.
Warnings: noncon, forced sounding, hentai physiology/biologically impossible sex, fantasy bestiality (human/werewolf)

Howl [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Let it never be said that Vidkun made good decisions. Trying to join the Silver Hand had been stupid enough, but this made that fiasco seem downright sane in comparison. If Vidkun had even a single bit of sense, he wouldn't be out here now, tracking down a fucking werewolf.

But here he was, lost in the middle of some unnavigable forest in the Rift without even the slightest notion of where exactly he was or where in Nirn his prey had gone. No wonder the Silver Hand hadn't wanted him; he was a Talos-damned fiasco. Yet no matter how bad he was at tracking it, however, there definitely was a werewolf here. It was somewhere nearby, somewhere close enough that Vidkun was likely to cross its path sooner or later--assuming it didn't cross his path first.

That was a genuine danger. Vidkun was stalking this thing, tracking it down in hopes of eventually capturing the beast--and the Nine knew that would've been easier with the help of the Silver Hand, but perhaps it was best for his purposes that he was alone--but now that he has lost its trail, there was no guarantee that it wasn't doing the same to him. He couldn't be sure the thing wasn't stalking him beneath the cover of the dark forest even as Vidkun wandered aimlessly, hoping to pick up its trail.

By now, though, hours had gone by without either discovering it or being set upon by it, and the sun would rising in just another few. Vidkun would need to find a place to camp for the day, some cave or perhaps a fallen tree that he could use to block out enough of the sun that his tent wouldn't be flooded with light while he was trying to sleep. He would need his rest for tomorrow night's hunt if today's bore no fruit.

And it was just around the time that Vidkun was beginning to resolve himself to another failure--the sixth this week--that he heard the howl.

It was an ear-splitting thing, though far off, and it echoed through the aspen trees of the forest for a few moments before it faded in the night air. Vidkun took off in the direction from which it had come, racing as quietly as possible through the twiggy, leafy underbrush. That, at least, was one of the few things Vidkun could do; he moved with the speed and the subtlety of a stalking sabrecat, even if he didn't exactly have the actual tracking skills of one.

He knew he was getting close when he heard the growl: a low, dangerous, unmistakeably aggressive and animalistic noise that would have sent a lesser man--a less determined man--running. Vidkun drew his bow but didn't yet reach for an arrow; he would need silver to incapacitate this thing, and silver would be seen far too easily in the moonlight. He couldn't risk giving himself away; not when he was this close.

Vidkun kept creeping forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of the beast. Off to the right, he heard another low growl, much louder and closer now; he was closing in on it, and while the aggressive noises kept coming, he didn't think it had caught sight of him yet. It could probably smell him, though, and hear his footsteps; Vidkun wondered how close he would have to be before this thing would be able to hear even the heart beating in his chest. Werewolves were amazing creatures, really. Deadly, awe-inspiring, and beautiful.

To his surprise, Vidkun could actually hear the beast's breathing as he drew near, a loud, labored panting that spoke perhaps of some kind of sickness--but Vidkun was fairly sure the beasts couldn't take ill, so he rather doubted that could be the case. Surely by now he was close enough for it to hear him, though, and yet it still hadn't run. Perhaps something was wrong with it after all.

When the massive, shadowed body of the creature came into view, Vidkun felt himself go still, a kind of panicked paralysis that left his body frozen while his mind whirled. He needed to bring this thing down, not to kill it but to incapacitate it. He didn't want the thing dead; he just had to make sure it wouldn't be able to fight back.

[over-look] play dead | Izzy x Octavian, necrophilia roleplay

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

This was originally intended to be [Mice and Mages AU] Jowan x Cullen, noncon, punishment, bondage, torture.

Title: Bound Once More title inspiration (http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Bound_in_Blood_and_Magic)
Pairing/Rating: Jowan/Cullen NC-17 or Jowan & Cullen (gen, M for violence)
Challenges:
Summary: After the Blight, Solona finds herself fighting the Circle for custody of Jowan. In the meantime, though, the blood mage is locked away in the Circle's dungeon--and Cullen doesn't intend to waste this opportunity.
Warnings: noncon(?), torture/humiliation

Title: Play Dead
Pairing/Rating: Izzy/Octavian NC-17
Challenges: T1-5. play dead [over-look (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/12476.html)] | 15. silent [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Butter Pecan (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/19351.html#butterpecan)] | 16. superficial [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Chocolate Chip Mint (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/19351.html#chocolatechipmint)] | 13. wonder [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Cherry Chocolate Chip (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/20690.html#cherrychocolatechip)]
Summary: She chooses not to think about whether he's done this before.
Warning(s): necrophilia (roleplay)

Play Dead [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Izzy was painfully cold.

This was scene that took careful preparation and plenty of time. It was no easy task to get her body temperature down this low, at least not without risking causing her some permanent harm. And Octavian wouldn't do that to her, wouldn't do it even if the Circle didn't have their own rules against it; no matter what Simon, Nadia, and all the others said about him, Izzy truly believed that. Whatever his proclivities, he didn't wish her any harm; in fact, Izzy was sure that he cared for her, and quite deeply at that. It wasn't love, not exactly--even if there was a small part of her that wondered if perhaps what she felt for him was just that--but it was affection nonetheless.

She was, at the very least, the only one he trusted enough to share this scene with.

Izzy lay on the bed, limp and immobile atop the covers. There was only so much she could do to stop her body's natural impulses, but she'd gotten fairly good at suppressing her shivering. She wondered if he would be pleased to hear that she'd been practicing when she was alone, taking ice-cold showers and blocking off the heating vents in her room during the winter and pushing her limits against the cold whenever she found the opportunity... or if perhaps he might think her trying a bit too hard. Was there such a thing as trying too hard?

She could hear Octavian moving in the room, but he wasn't talking. He didn't need to talk to her, not when she was in this role; it wasn't as if she could return the conversation anyway.

When she felt the bed dip as his weight moved on top of it, Izzy felt her first thrill of anticipation. This was always a challenge, something she always had to work extra hard to pull off for him and thus something she was always particularly proud of herself for achieving. And he was thankful for it, told her so afterward every time they did this--both vocally and physically. Since coming to the Circle, there had been nothing Izzy had wanted more than to please him, and there was nothing that satisfied him more than having someone rise to his challenge.

She always tried, even if she didn't always succeed.

Izzy kept very carefully silent when he finally touched her, his grip irreverent and far from gentle as he shoved her legs apart. It wasn't that he lacked respect for her--he had plenty of that--but that he had none for the character she had assumed for this scene. There was no need to be gentle with a dead woman, after all.

The illusion, of course, was superficial--so superficial, in fact, that there were times when she was surprised it satisfied him. She was such a pale imitation of what she had meant to emulate. She flushed with blood and got wet when he touched her, struggled to suppress her shivering and the noises and the movements she normally would've made in response to what he was doing between her legs. But, perhaps more damning than anything else, Izzy was very clearly hard.

There was absolutely no denying, then, that she was very much alive. For all rigor mortis might achieve, there was no corpse on the planet who would respond to this stimulation--to any stimulation--with the kind of throbbing erection that was between her legs right now; and yet Octavian never seemed to mind that. It was, perhaps, the quality that she liked in him the most; no matter how demanding he was, no matter how hard he pushed her to rise to his challenges and pursue new goals as soon as the last was conquered, he always forgave her body its limitations.

That, she decided, was what the others didn't understand about him. She couldn't pretend that he wasn't harsh, but she liked to think he was fair, too.

Izzy struggled to keep quiet, tried to drown out the way he sounded and the way he felt as he used her; he made her achingly hard and dripping wet all at once, and she would have to thoroughly hydrate herself after this session just as she did all the rest. But for now, she tried to distract herself, letting her mind wander where it chose while he did as he pleased with her pseudo corpse.

[smut-69] oil | Sparrow x Frost

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Originally intended to be Pretentious Perversion 69] acokoinonia, or sex without passion.

Title: Acokoinonia
Pairing/Rating: Sparrow/Frost NC-17
Challenges: 1. acokoinonia [Pretentious Perversion 69 (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/12994.html)]
Summary:
Warnings: dubcon (Stockholm syndrome)

Title:
Pairing/Rating: Sparrow/Frost NC-17
Challenges: 12. oil [smut-69 (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/15406.html)] | 1. loyalty or trust [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Chocolate (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/19030.html#chocolate)] | 11. kneel [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Carrot Cake (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/20471.html#carrotcake)] | 19. domination [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Fudge Ripple (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/20471.html#fudgeripple)]
Summary: Inspired by this (https://www.evernote.com/shard/s216/nl/25672064/f14dd6a0-1c2b-4044-8fef-d11e3493ef8c?title=Prompt%3A%20Cullen%2FF!Inq%20or%20OC%2C%20slave%20(roleplay%20probably)).
Warnings:

Oil [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

At least she knows he trusts her now.

Sure, that would have helped more last year, back when she still had a concrete plan to get the fuck out of here before she sank into the inevitable complacency she knows she's fallen into now, but it's nice to see nevertheless. And he certainly wouldn't be doing this for her if he wasn't as utterly and completely devoted to her as he had claimed all along, and there's something comforting in that, too; so even though she knows that she shouldn't be doing this--still remembers the night when she told off Simon for even suggesting she might ever indulge in something like this--she lets Frost do this for her anyway. And she is every bit as thrilled as he had always promised her she would be.

He really is gorgeous like this, naked and kneeling in front of her on the bedroom floor; he looks downright sinful, collared and chained with every inch of his body well-oiled and flushed with arousal much more obvious than her own. He's playing the ideal Rough for her, reverent and submissive and above all else eagerly consenting; that this is merely a fantasy might ruin it for someone like Octavian--hell, might have ruined it for Frost himself, had he ever found himself in the position she found herself in now--but it's the only way she can participate. Had someone brought an actual Rough to her like this, Sparrow rather doubted they would survive the experience.

She seems to have Frost wrapped so tightly around her finger these days, in fact, that she might have been able to get him to enact that wrath for her. And whatever he did, no doubt, would be worse than anything she dared. First Lady she may be, but the Chancellor still has more leeway than anyone else in the world.

Right now, though, he doesn't have much at all; all he has is an erection, hard and eager between his legs, and that familiar look of anticipation in his eye that means he's dying for it. It's a look that means he'll let her take this as far as she wants, right up to the edge of the unforgivable, and he'll love every second of it. He'll beg for her to do it, and then he'll ask for more.

It's nights like this, really, when Sparrow is most happy with him. And it's not even that this whole scene is what she wants, not exactly; while she certainly does enjoy it, she knows there's too much relief wrapped up in this for it to be proper pleasure. As much as she enjoys her dominance, she's more satisfied in the realization that he's willing to give it to her; he's willing to let her set their pace and treat him the way she feared she would be treated here, and she knows every bit of it is designed to appease her, to soothe her ever-recurring fears and stave off anything that would get in the way of what he wants from her, anything that might have the power to break the bond he's forced between them before it inevitably becomes something indestructible.

Perhaps, then, she should really be afraid of nights like this, should not just recognize them as manipulation but put a stop to them altogether in hopes of keeping herself as whole and sane as she possibly can... but she doesn't. She lets Frost do as he pleases even as he lets her do as she does, and that's what they've become. That's what they're going to be.

She gives him what he wants, and he gives her the rest. Maybe it's not a fair trade, but it's the only one he's willing to make.

Tonight, of course, what he wants is pleasure, and, as always since the moment he set eyes on her, he wants her to be the one to give it to him. But more than anything else, he wants to be the one orchestrating hers, and so he tonight he intends to do whatever it takes to get her off. No demand or request will go denied tonight, not as long as it's in his power to fulfill. Tonight, he is her slave.

[smut-69] orgy | Sparrow x Frost x Simon x Nadia x Loretta x Izzy

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

This was originally intended to be Sigurd x Adrasteia, dubcon & impregnation.

Title: Plan B
Pairing/Rating: Sigurd/Adrasteia NC-17
Challenges:
Summary: Sigurd/Adrasteia, in which Sigurd is hiding his true motive--i.e., that he's hoping she'll conceive, since he hasn't been able to find any other living Draconians. Can ignore Charon's existence or factor him in somehow. (Poly, cheating, pre-relationship, post-breakup, whatever.)
Warnings: dubcon (hidden motive), attempted forced impregnation

Title:
Pairing/Rating: Sparrow/Frost, Sparrow/Simon, Sparrow/Loretta, Sparrow/Izzy, Frost/Simon, Frost/Nadia, Frost/Loretta, Frost/Izzy, Simon/Nadia, Simon/Izzy, Nadia/Izzy, Loretta/Izzy NC-17
Challenges: 25. orgy [smut-69 (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/15406.html)] | 7. touch [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Carrot Cake (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/20471.html#carrotcake)] | 21. pleasure [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Cherry Chocolate Chip (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/20690.html#cherrychocolatechip)] | 3. bed [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Coffee (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/19760.html#coffee)]
Summary:
Warnings:

Orgy [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Let it never be said that Sparrow never did anything for him. Sure, she'd had to take a small dose of Paraphine to get herself ready for this, but she wasn't about to let him find out about that anyway; as far as Frost needed to know, this was not only her idea but something she wanted--but just the once. The last thing she needed was for him to try to arrange this again as a surprise for her. She certainly hoped she'd managed to make it clear that this particular birthday gift was single use only; they weren't going to be doing this again.

When she'd told him what she had intended to "give" him this year, he'd laughed. He hadn't believed her in the slightest, not in those first few seconds; he'd taken it just as another of her sarcastic comments, a mocking little taunt he knew better than to let get to him, lest the travesty he was calling a relationship fall apart right in front of their eyes. But when he'd realized she was serious, his attitude had turned to a different kind of disbelief, and for the briefest of seconds, there'd been something more vulnerable about him, as if he was struggling with his desire to believe her and the caution that proved he still thought her affection might be too good to be true.

And so there had been the awkward process of convincing him while trying to mask her genuine reluctance beneath an eager veneer. It wasn't that she wanted to do this, though that's what she needed him to believe; it was that she wanted to do something for him (even if she realized that such a desire meant she'd thoroughly succumbed to the fate she'd been trying to avoid for two years now), and this was one of the few things she could think of with the proper balance between the extravagant indulgence the occasion warranted and her need to make sure his gift was a painless to her as she could make it.

What she was going to do next year, of course, was a problem she didn't intend to start worrying about until at least tomorrow morning.

For their parts, Izzy and Loretta had been incredibly easy to convince. Both women were eager participants in this, mustering up vastly enthusiasm than Sparrow or the others could have if they'd tried--and they were trying. Simon and Nadia, who had taken a bit of extra convincing--specifically because of Izzy and Loretta's involvement, Sparrow was well aware--were perhaps even less enthused than Sparrow herself, but they'd agreed anyway. So here they all were, going out of their way to give Frost yet another luxury he didn't actually deserve.

When Frost had finally been convinced that she was serious about what she offering him, he had been more than willing to help arrange it; in fact, she rather suspected he would've taken it upon himself to convince or bribe the others into agreeing had she not already gotten their consent before the night she'd brought it up to him. With that out of the way, though, he'd taken it upon himself to handle the rest, and so now Sparrow found herself not in the suite but in some dimly lit back room off the Theatre, in which she'd found the single most ridiculous she'd ever seen in her life. Heart-shaped and utterly massive, Sparrow was under no delusions that it wasn't there specifically for someone in the Circle wanted to do what they were doing now, and that was an oddly disorienting, guilt-inducing feeling. It was immediate, glaringly obvious proof that she was one of these people now, that she had learned to think like them and to act like them without even realizing that was an actual danger.

But what did it matter, she asked herself reluctantly; she truly was one of them, and this, at least, wasn't hurting anyone. If anything, they were all getting at least something they wanted out of tonight, and that would have to be enough to soothe her guilty nerves.

[lover100] S-61. secret | Sparrow x Frost

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

This was originally intended to be Steel x Rowan dubcon, heat.

Title: Holding Peace title inspiration (http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/SpeakNowOrForeverHoldYourPeace)
Pairing/Rating: Steel/Rowan NC-17
Challenges:
Summary: Steel takes advantage of Rowan's heat. Perhaps he thinks that if he gives Rowan what she wanted to begin with, it'll be enough to convince her to leave Ares. (How he gets her away from Ares during her heat, of course, is another question entirely.) Maybe it works, maybe it doesn't.
Warnings: dubcon (heat/rut), attempted forced impregnation

Title:
Pairing/Rating: Sparrow/Frost M
Challenges: S-61. secret [lover100 (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/11105.html)] | 9. distraction [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Fudge Ripple (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/20471.html#fudgeripple)] | 26. restraint [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Chocolate Chip (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/20690.html#chocolatechip)] | 25. perversion [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Dark Chocolate (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/21143.html#darkchocolate)]
Summary: It wouldn't take a genius to figure out what's going on, and the fact that it's easily the worst-kept secret in the room only makes it better.

Secret [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

He had made her a complete and utter pervert. But it could be worse, she supposed; this could have worked out the other way around, and Sparrow would be eternally grateful that it didn't.

If there was anyone left in the room who hadn't noticed what was going on, Sparrow would have been immensely surprised. These people--the entirety of the Circle--was so steeped in this kind of perversity that there was no way they couldn't see the signs, not when she could so clearly see them herself; sure, she knew exactly what to look for, being the instigator--however accidentally--of this whole thing, but she didn't doubt for a second that plenty of these men and women had done the same in the past. And when they had done it, she was sure, Sparrow had been the only one in the room who hadn't realized what was going on.

Not tonight.

For his part, Frost was clearly thrilled with it all. He'd said it before, told her three years ago what he wanted, though he'd practically made her drag it out of him at the time; if there was anything in the world that could clearly show the Circle that he'd won--that he'd made her feel something vaguely romantic for him, though she dared any single one of these fuckers to call it love--it was this. The rest of it could be written off, and it could be written off very easily at that. There was a good argument to be made that she had only stayed with him--only returned to him--out of fear and that she'd only married him thanks to bribery or blackmail or even something as base as greed. This, though... this proved that whatever there was between them, at least part of it was exactly what Frost had insisted was there all along. She wanted him after all.

And so it was rather odd, sitting there on the couch with her hand in her jacket pocket while Frost mingled on the other side of the room. That alone, of course, was the first giveaway that something unusual was going on; it was so rare for him to so much as step beyond her tight bubble of personal space, let alone let her out of his sight, and surely everyone here realized that if he was doing it tonight, it was either because they were in some kind of fight--which was unlikely, since neither of them seemed anything resembling upset--or...

Or they were doing something like this.

They really weren't being subtle, after all. For all Frost was more thoroughly ignoring her now than he'd managed even once in the past three years, Sparrow's attention was entirely on him, which even she could admit was rather suspect in and of itself; but more telling than that, of course, was what Frost was doing. The man was barely paying attention to anything, attempting as he was to carry on a conversation with a patriarch Sparrow recognized but still couldn't name after all these years; he was standing just a bit awkwardly, and if that wasn't a dead giveaway, the occasional slip in his careful restraint certainly was. It wasn't anything too obvious, but she could tell he was distracted even from across the room, struggling to pay attention to whatever was being said to him while she occasionally toyed with the dial. Once, Sparrow had even seen the other man glance in her direction, and she had to admit that she was rather pleased with the distinct hint of disbelief in his expression as he did. If the self-satisfied smirk she offered him in response didn't give them both away, Sparrow knew nothing else possibly could.

It was only when she watched Octavian Donahue break away from the conversation he'd been having and start heading very purposefully toward Frost, however, that Sparrow wondered if the latter had actually considered what he was getting himself into when he'd eagerly signed himself up for this one--and, perhaps more importantly, exactly what Donahue thought he was doing.

Eyes narrowing, Sparrow rose from the couch. Octavian, of course, knew exactly what was going on; the thought that he didn't was so painfully naive that she wouldn't even have entertained it three years ago, let alone now. But what exactly he thought he was doing, interjecting himself so purposefully into the situation, though, she had no fucking clue.

[lover-100] S-27. threesome | Sparrow x Frost x Galen

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

Originally intended to be Vaughan x Kallian, noncon & imprisonment.

Title: Never the Bride
Pairing/Rating: Vaughan/Kallian NC-17
Challenges:
Summary: The Bann takes Tabris up on her offer to take just her instead of the other girls.
Warnings: kidnapping/imprisonment, racism, noncon

Title: Three
Pairing/Rating: Sparrow/Frost/Galen NC-17
Challenges: S-27. threesome [lover-100 (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/11105.html)] | 14. scream [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Cookies 'n Cream (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/19351.html#cookiesncream)] | 27. worship [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Chocolate Chip (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/20690.html#chocolatechip)] | 28. satisfaction [runaway-tales (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/18484.html) | Milk Chocolate (http://norienchronicle.livejournal.com/21143.html#milkchocolate)]
Summary: Galen has finally gotten what he wants.

Three [1/?]

[norienchronicle.livejournal.com]

The man had been persistent, that was for sure. Sparrow was, of course, under no delusions that it had anything to do with her; Galen Freed's interest began and ended with her husband, and she knew she was little more than an afterthought to him. At absolute best, she was a bonus prize to cash in on if he ever found success; at worst, he thought her an obstacle just as Loretta had.

That latter, though, she had become fairly convinced was not the case. At the very least, he'd been trying to convince her of such for the past few weeks now; no doubt Loretta had assured him that his chances of getting what he wanted depended upon not Frost's opinion of him but hers. Frost was easy; he would have sex with damn near anyone, provided they were at the very least a few steps above hideous. For the past few years, at least, the bulk of his decision seemed to revolve around whether or not Sparrow was interested in the person in question.

She hadn't done much with that over the past few years; though she was well aware of the freedoms it offered her, they hadn't been freedoms she'd particularly wanted until now. Until last fall, after all, her life had seemed to be approaching something that looked like completeness; even without her getting over whatever qualms she might have had about the kinds of relationships Frost had clearly been trying to push her into all along, her love for Simon and Nadia had allowed her to indulge, even if it meant giving Frost what he wanted long before she was willing to do any such thing for him.

But then Simon had died and Nadia had withdrawn, and then she'd been facing not just Galen's unsubtle attentions but the uncomfortable presence of Kieran Bell.

Regardless of what she thought of the man in retrospect, she had to be grateful for what he'd done for her, loathe as she was to admit it. While the man was a pale imitation of Simon that had been more along the lines of salt in her wounds than a comfort, he had at least helped her get over the loss in some capacity; Kieran Bell had been the first person Sparrow had pursued herself, independent of Frost's own instigation, and even if it hadn't worked out as she'd hoped, there was something so undeniably empowering about it that she couldn't pretend she wasn't better off than she was before.

Had Simon lived, she would've gladly lived the rest of her life with him and Frost and Nadia, but in a world without him, Kieran had helped her realize a lesson she should've learned years ago--one she likely would've learned years ago if she hadn't known it was one Frost himself so desperately wanted to teach her.

So, in a weird way, Galen owed what was happening now to Kieran, and not in the way he intended. Their antics earlier this year had been vaguely amusing, surely, but certainly not the thing that had helped him get what he wanted--but Kieran had helped him nonetheless. They would all just have to hope this worked out better than it had for him.

For his part, Galen seemed more surprised by his admittedly unexpected stroke of luck than she'd imagined he would. Earlier, before they'd left the Threatre behind them in favor of the privacy of the suite upstairs, it had seemed like every set of eyes in the place had been on the three of them, watching with perhaps a hint of disbelief as Galen at least appeared to finally be getting exactly what he'd wanted all along.

Sparrow had approached him first, and he'd offered her that same overconfident charm he'd been giving her all along. It wasn't, however, the shallow attention he'd been affording her during those first few weeks; instead, ever since Loretta had claimed to have "set him straight", he at least seemed to be genuinely trying to sway her. He had at least been treating her as less of a complication and more of a person recently, and while his efforts to endear himself to her had still be a far cry from what the way he'd been acting whenever Frost was around, she had to appreciate the change nonetheless. She certainly wouldn't have been doing any of this if not for that.