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#foundation 2021
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The three emperors in Foundation, Dawn, Day and Dusk, is an insane concept and I don't think I've ever seen a weird sci-fi government premise so compelling before??
You've got 3 clones of the same Emperor from centuries ago, perpetually cloned, a kid, an adult and an old man, and each will be all three within his lifetime. When you're kid, you learn from the older ones, when you're adult you rule, and when you're old you guide. The old one, Dusk, has had the two clones before him - his "brothers" from when he was Dawn - die, and now he's them, and he has new, younger brothers. Each Day sees his own past in little brother Dawn and his future in Dusk. Each clone has been raised by himself and will raise himself. They watch themselves be born just before they die.
They're triplets and son-father-grandfather all at once.
The cycle has repeated for centuries and yet each generation obviously has its unique distinctions, each clone his individual life. The first emperor's way of becoming immortal wraps around to being a constant reminder of mortality, because he's dying again and again and again.
Their love - and hatred - for each other is such a weird and complicated thing I'm going crazy. FINALLY SOME CLONING WEIRDNESS WHERE THE IMPLICATIONS IN IDENTITY ARE ACTUALLY EXPLORED BEYOND JUST 'HAVING THE SAME FACE'
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brotherdusk · 7 months
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foundation season 2 as popular posts: empire edition
season 1: empire / terminus season 2: empire / terminus & ignis
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anundyingfidelity · 4 months
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NO SECOND CHANCES — Brother Day/Cleon XVII
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Summary: A lonely space traveler happens to save from a certain death the most annoying person of the entire galaxy, the Emperor.
Pairing: Cleon XVII x female reader.
Word count: 8.1k. (oooops).
Warnings: well, spoilers for whole season 2. Language, angst (the reader wants to die, really). Talks about suicide, talks about suicide attempts, reader having nightmares, PTSD, reader is suffering too. Some hurt/comfort, some fluff? Filthy smut (included but not limited to hand jobs, unprotected sex, oral from both parts, dirty language, etc. etc.), and end of the world sex (to Beki's arsehole bitches yay🥂). Also Cleon refers to the reader as "woman" a couple of times lol. Reader has pierced ears? (wait for it). Bittersweet ending tbh.
Notes: just trying to make slow burn in a one shot because I'm a lazy fucker who doesn't like to write stories with chapters, otherwise I don't finish shit. Uh probably OOC Cleon??? I don't know. Fully inspired by my favorite trope ever: saving the bad guy and making him humble. I don't care we're four people watching Foundation, I need to write about this little piece of shit I love him so much. Cleon XVII is a himbo I said it. Not beta, we die like bitches of the Gossamer court.
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
Tagging: @curiouswildi hope you like it 🥺💘
GEN MASTERLIST!
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I. BEYOND
The last thing wandering his mind was Bel Riose. Fucking Bel Riose. That idiot. They had won over him; over him, who was Empire and still meant to be for years ahead. Next, the cold feeling of space was embracing him. But he felt he was not floating around anymore.
Cleon was tied to a surface. It felt like harsh, uncomfortable metal under his back. He slowly forced his eyes open, moving his limbs and trying to escape whatever it was restraining him to do so. His wrists and ankles, as his waist, were tied by a light blue particle field preventing the patient to move at all. He was met with the roof of a ship and equipment, but it wasn't any Imperial one. In panic, he moved until he was able to shake the surface he was on, panting and grunting, feeling some pain and sting resurging all over him. The headache was becoming unbearable and the sounds coming from his dry mouth finally transformed into screams. The room doors opened and a strange voice catched his attention.
"Finally, you're awake."
Cleon obliged to follow the shadow moving around, his eyes focusing to try and see who was talking. He heard steps and the sounds of metal and glass clinking around, probably looking for medication and tools as he was know fully concius. The figure finally came to view by his side.
"I will inject this, so don't move," you said, grabbing his bicep. Cleon was about to protest, but the needle was faster and the medicine was welcomed on his vurnerable system, easing the pain and calming down the headache. "Welcome back, Eminence," you smirked to him.
"And just so, who are you?" he asked chuckling to himself, licking his lips. "What have you done to me?"
"First, I saved your life and cleaned all your bloody wounds. You should say thanks at least," you sat down dangerously close by his side, on the same surface he was on.
"I did not ask you for mercy."
"Oh, but I did," you replied, a smirk on your lips. "Perhaps I shouldn't have, right?" you took a small pencil-like device in your hand from the pocket of your pants and used it to scan his vital signs. You touched his face carefully with your fingers, examining his eyes, his heartbeat, and any anomaly that might be on his system from head to toe, but the scanner found none. Cleon watched you doing so until he asked again, his voice softer this time.
"Who are you?"
"Just no one as important as you are," you said, saving the scanner back.
"Where are we?" Cleon asked, looking around. He observed he was placed in a small medical bay.
"In space, in the middle of nowhere I suppose," you shrugged, getting on your feet again. "It seems you're recovering quite well and fast. At least that's what my scanner says. So first, I think you should want some water, which I am leaving right here," you put a flask on the small table next to him. "And before I give you this to drink, I want to make sure you will not restrain or fight back at me."
He laughed, that narcissistic smile on his face. You wanted to punch him.
"You're no match for me, woman."
"Really? Then I could just throw you out there again, you know, it's not difficult. I'm spending resources on you, surely I won't oppose to that idea," you snapped back.
His smile faded slowly, thinking. If it wasn't for you, he would be dead by now, it was true. But he was so used to be immortal and undefeteable that the situation was kind of new. He only had been vulnerable and exposed to his doctors in the palace, and you were a complete stranger. And still, you had the heart to take him in your ship and save his life. He sighed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.
"Fuck, fine. What do you want me to do?"
So this was his way of cooperating, you thought.
"After I turn off the restraints, you will have to sit down on the stretcher. I will help you. Do not try to get up yet, you might feel dizzy."
With a nod he said to you the orders were clear. Next, the restraints disappeared in the air with a push on a button and Cleon felt a small relief. As you promised, you helped him to sit and he realized that the clothes he had before were replaced with a set of new pale grey robes that allowed him to move freely. You offered the flask to his lips, but he watched you with a questioning look on his face.
"Is only water, I swear. See?" you had a small sip from the bottle and he looked more at ease after you swallowed the liquid.
You offered the bottle again and helped him to slowly drink. Once he was done, you placed a small tray with fruits and dry seeds on top of the same table beside the stretcher.
"You might want to eat something," you said, breaking the silence under his fixed gaze. Even when he was sitting down and you on your feet it felt rather intimidating. "I'm still collecting supplies and food. You were certainly not part of the plan these days."
"So you travel alone," Cleon said, taking a small red fruit between his fingers and began to eat it.
"I do," you nodded. "Sorry if the taste of the fruit is not pleasant."
"You're doing your best," he said while eating, studying the room around him. You were not sure if he was mocking you or not. "What was your name again?"
You chuckled. "You're very interesting, Empire. Why don't you finish eating and rest before taking a bath?"
The next few hours, you left him to rest and escorted him to your quaters, the only place with a comfortable bed, so he could get proper sleep. Since there were no further questions from him, you got to your business and requested more provisions to the merchants. Traveling alone had made you some contacts and traders, from time to time you would request for food giving in exchange money or rare knick knacks, and within a day you had a small capsule with supplements heading to your coordinates with everything you needed. You just had to wait for now.
After checking the estate of your ship and confirming everything was working correctly, you went back to your quaters to see how the Emperor was doing. You were startled to see him sitting on your bed with a book between his hands. He looked like he just had a bath because his shirt was gone and his hair was wet, some droplets running down his skin. Quickly, you studied him. He was handsome, muscular, his skin had a beautiful tan, and he was tall and heavy as hell, something you noticed when cleaning his wounds and taking him inside your ship. The earring on his left ear was also interesting, you thought, for a member of the most important dinasty of the galaxy. Very rebellious for the emperor.
You also knew he heard you steping in but never looked up from the book because he was the first one to talk.
"Never I could imagine you would have books in here," he said, clearly interested on the pages.
"Yeah, not all of us are barbarians as you work so hard to convice yourself we are."
He chuckled to himself, looking at you for the first time since you entered the room.
"Are you from Korell?"
"The book gave it away, didn't it."
"This is very old," he said, closing the book. "You are for sure not allowed to have this in Korell."
"That is one of the reasons I left," you replied, looking around the place. It was obvious to you that he was pearing within your personal stuff because the old myth book was secured down your mattress. At least he didn't leave a mess and everything seemed in the right place. "I was a threat in my planet so Argo kept looking for me for some conspiracy shit and terrorism when all I did was oppose myself to his repression and freakshow," you continued, his eyes drew back to you. "They wanted me dead in Korell, but I am the only one to decide that, even when and where will it happen."
Cleon shifted on his seat, wondering why you were sharing a piece of your life to him when he didn't even know your name yet. Words and thoughts wandered his head on how would he answer to your words, compassion or empathy sometimes were difficult things to feel. But before he was able to speak, you interrupted his thoughts.
"I will leave you alone to rest for a while and will come back when it's around supper. I follow Kornell cycle of time, so you know... Just don't poke around my underwear, Empire," you dragged his title mockingly.
He laughed softly, going back to his reading.
"Thank you for the idea."
That was the first time you would hear him expressing gratitude.
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II. GHOSTS FROM THE PAST
Around more than a week passed, and Cleon was healing and his wounds were not so visible now. You made sure to inject him every day and gave your quaters and bed for him to sleep and recover. He had took a pad you had in the room so he could count the cycle of days in Trantor. Hardly to admit, he found himself missing home rather than hatred. Sometimes the rage mixed with sorrow, but he forced himself to try and understand that it was a normal feeling due to the sudden lose of everything he once had.
Cleon had been up from some time now as he counted the end of the eighth day on the pad, and wondered why your daily visit was taking so long. It was a habit you had, to come in and wake him up with the medicine, and after it was done, you would tell him to eat some of the fruits and food on the tray you brought for him. He got on his feet and put a shirt on before leaving the room to search for you. On the pilot cabin, you had an improvised, small stickable mattress on the wall that had saved your life before, so you used it to sleep and rest the past few days while he cured. Cleon observed your figure lying down on the mattress, walking slowly and sensing something was not right. He found you shaking and trembling, eyes still closed and chest heavily breathing as your hand held onto dear life what he realised it was a gun.
He felt somehow frightened and confused. If you wanted to kill him, you would already have done it. You had made yourself clear on that. The tremor of your body seemed it was increasing and Cleon, with a gentless he did not know he possesed, tried to soothe you with his voice, removing the gun from your embrace.
"Shh... everything is fine," he mumbled, not sure of his words, his other hand touching your shoulder in soft circles. He was able to withdraw the gun from your hands and placed it on the floating shelf near by.
Your eyes squeezed and some tears flowed down your face as you sobbed still in your sleep. Cleon hesitated on what to do next to wake you up. He leaned again, his hand slowly tracing the skin of your arm, like he did when his brother Dawn was a child.
"Woman? Wake up," he whispered, shaking you a little bit and pating your arm softly, and when he talked again, his voice was a little bit louder. "You're having a nightmare, wake up."
And as he repeated his words over and over, your eyes opened wide, feeling your lungs able to breath again. But your senses still were coming to awareness, and automatically you slapped the face of whoever it was touching your arm. You heard him groan in pain and you rolled over the mattres, until you hit the floor, taking out a small blade from below the makeshift pillow of fabrics you used. The blade pointing at him as you looked around the cabin to find out it was only both of you.
"What- are you okay?!" Cleon questioned with a frown, rubbing his hurting cheek as he remained on the other side of your bed, the only thing separating you from him was the mattress.
"Yes, I'm perfectly fine!"
He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Of course you are not."
"Then why the fuck would you ask that?! It's obvious I'm not fine!" you yelled. Your body was tense and ready to attack. You felt a knot on your throat, like if you were to cry again. Silence envolved you, trying to calm down. That inner voice in your head began saying it was just a dream, and you wanted to believe it. It was all in your head. It was not real...
"Do you want to kill me?" Cleon's gloomy voice echoed.
"What? No! I would never-"
"Then why are you sleeping with a damn blaster shot and a blade on your bed?!" he confronted, screaming at you, but not daring to move as you also remained standing in the same place.
"Because I wanted to kill myself!" you yelled back, pointing the sharp of the knife to you instead. His face became stern and you realised what you had said, and what was happening. Ashamed, you threw the blade back under the pillow. "Sorry, I don't want you to know that. Forget it."
You wiped the tears on your face under his piercing and concerning eyes. You forced your head to compose and burry your nightmares and memories deep inside before talking.
"I have to inject you," you said and walked back to the room, sure he would follow behind. Once you crossed the doors, you prepared the needle but Cleon remained standing near the exit of your room the whole time, arms crossed over his chest, observing you with utter worry on his face. Why? He really did not know. Probably because you were the only human and intelligent contact he had for days now, and you had the decency to keep him alive. Though he was not going to let that in his head - yet.
"Why don't you seat?" you most likely ordered. Cleon slowly made his way to you and remained standing, tall and kind of threatening. He was Emperor, after all.
"What is wrong with you?" he asked with a careful tone.
"Nothing, Empire. Just sit," you said, coldly, waiting for him to do as you requested.
"No, I need to know," he demanded, coming closer to you, jaw clenching. Anger started taking over your being and held his gaze as you replied.
"I have the right to decide whether or not speak about my personal life, I am not one of your subjects, so sit the fuck down so I can give you the last dosis of this shit."
"I need to know if I can fucking trust you after what I just heard coming from your mouth," his voice boomed around the place.
"You really want to know?! Fine, back in Korell I lost my family, my brother, my parents, my home - everything I had they took it from me! I was the last one alive and I escaped after they killed my brother in front of me and that day is still haunting me," you muttered and felt the tears forming on your eyes, but this time, of rage. "So if it concerns your own well being, like it always has been, no, I will not kill you. But you are no Emperor here, so stop that game. Some of us never gave a fuck about you or the Empire, or the Foundation and Hari Seldon, or the Church of the Galactic Spirit -I don't care! I'm tired, I just want to be free and live peacefully!"
You had not noticed you stepped closer to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body. His face was blank, as if he had been slapped again, but this time to reality. A reality he was not familiar with on his own bubble.
Quickly you grabbed his bicep and injected the dosis with him standing up. He whined in surprise. It was fast. So fast that you just removed the needle from his flesh and left the room.
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III. WHAT YOU REALLY KNOW
According to the Trantor cycle, evening should be now. When you left him alone in the room, Cleon spent the next hours by himself, and since he watched you looking up for garments and food around the ship before, he made sure to get those without speaking to you. Not that you wanted to talk either. He noticed you sitting on the main pilot seat, looking at the stars and the void through the glass the whole day. He got concerned for a moment, but decided to let you be as he, also, understood that some time alone was necessary.
However, Cleon thought to talk to you finally and say something. Anything to get you back to reality and forget your bad dreams. So he found himself making his way to sit on the other chair of the ship. He prepared the words to say inside his head, but it was more difficult to speak out loud.
"I think I owe you an apology," he finally said, taking in the view of space. You nodded slowly your head. Nobody turned to see each other.
"It's nothing. But apology accepted I guess."
"It's not nothing. I rarely thought about what other citizens and planets are going through... I'm so sorry it happened to you."
"I would like to say that was not your fault, but since the Empire withdrawal from Korell, living there definitely became so much worse," you confessed, very aware of the genetic dinasty and some of the things previous emperors did, which did not change much. They were the same man after all. Cloning again and again...
"Probably should apologise for that as well," he said.
"Yeah, it's too late, but thank you."
Cleon could still sense a feeling of resentment in your voice. He thought you were right to feel that way, but he was also going to try and make you understand him.
"I never had a mother, or a father, and my brothers are the same man as me, so it's hard to understand that some people lose their family and loved ones. I was born with that loss already... That's why I wanted to end the genetic dinasty."
"You are the eighteenth?" you asked, not knowing exactly why he was opening to you.
"The seventeenth."
"That's a lot of you though. Do you remember anything from the past?"
"I do not. But our memories are always saved. Everything that happens in Trantor is recorded and kept as data. If I want to know something about a previous Cleon, I would just request it."
You turned your gaze to finally see him, he looked in awe with space as he spoke.
"So what was your motive to destroy a planet?"
He turned his eyes to you. "I believe you didn't care about Empire or the Foundation."
"That doesn't mean I want to see a genocide, your Eminence."
Cleon stirred on his seat, with a strange feeling of guilt, sadness and regret. For some reason, the title falling off your lips made everything worse.
"You saw it," he said. "How? You're no part of the Foundation, at least you're lying to me."
"No, I am not! I did a stupid space jump without course and I ended here, unfortunately." You were growing tired of the conversation. "I don't know why we keep talking. We're both shitty people anyway."
Cleon chuckled, not to mock you, but because of the whole situation you were in together.
"I know you are. Brave enough to kill yourself, taking another life is nothing compared to your own."
You locked your gaze with his, thinking if he was he judging you or flattering you.
"And have you, like, tried to end with your life at some point? You must feel lonely, under the shadow of a clone, not allowing you to be, well, you."
He let out a deep breath, avoiding your eyes.
"I have not, but my genes are already compromised and adultered. No surprise if any of us dared to commit suicide before," he replied, looking to the void. "In any case, if something out of the ordinary is to happen to my brothers or myself, we have another clone with our same memories, same age, everything; prepared to be woken up and take our place. Like if we never existed."
"That's fucked up," you scoffed. "We are never trully free, are we."
You got on your feet to look up for something to eat and forget your small talk. You knew he had searched for fruits and dry food because you heard him moving around and then leaving a couple of times, but you had nothing through the whole day. Cleon followed your steps, leaving enough space between you both as you took a couple of apples, giving one to him.
"The jump, how did you do that?" he asked, taking a bite of the fruit. "You don't have spacers."
"The rebels are smart people. A lot of members of the Foundation replicated your technology."
"I thought you were not involved with them," he insisted.
"I am not, but I would never deny any help. That my support doesn't rely on them doesn't mean I will let a chance slide."
"You're not answering my question."
You pulled the sleeve of your shirt up to show your bare wrist to him. There was the same device Hober Mallow and the Clerics had, inserted on your skin.
"I use this.”
"This is a whisper ship," he mumbled.
"Smart. Yes, sort of."
Cleon scoffed. "So that means we can land somewhere."
"About that, uh, we can't."
He moved to throw the remainings of his fruit with a confused look. "Why?"
He heard your sigh as you covered your wrist again, looking away from his deep eyes.
"I- I threw myself to space because I wanted to kill myself," you started, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't care how long would take me, I just wanted to blow up my ship. Just end everything. But then I saw you, floating, dying... and for some reason I couldn't let you die. I didn't know who you were but I saved you. There's no energy or fuel to make another jump. I don't have that. We are far from what Terminus was now. From any planet, form of life or civilization... plus you are unarmed. You still are weak and anyone could kill you," you finished, and waiting for some reason that he could forgive you for giving him any sort of hope. "I'm sorry, Empire."
Beyond madness, Cleon felt you were worried for him. Not the kind of sentiment his brothers or palace workers would do, but a real one. Because you knew saving him was condemn him to death anyway. But this felt much better than dying alone. He had sins, past despiteful decisions and ghosts hunting him, as so were you. You just addressed your feelings and your life together in less than a day. And you were right, none of you were never trully free, but as crazy as it might be, being lost in space with you felt like freedom to him. Finally, he was far away from everything that was keeping chained to a life and responsibilities he never asked for, living under the shadow of an egotistical emperor.
There was a strong impulse growing inside him and before his rational voice began to scream it was a bad idea to continue, he had cupped your cheeks between his hands and his lips pressing hungrily against yours. You whined, surprised of the warm feeling of his mouth, his tongue hurriedly asking for permission to taste you. When oxygen was not enough you pulled away, shocked and panting. You barely noticed your hand around his forearm, recovering yourself from the best kiss you had in some time.
"Cleon," he whispered, kissing your lips one more time.
"What?"
"Just call me Cleon. I'm not Empire anymore."
You kissed him in response with the same eagerness he had before, heart beating strongly in your chest. His hands caressed every inch of your body, from your neck, breasts, your hips, your soft thighs, your ass... he touched you with desperate fire while you moaned against his mouth, liking where was this leading you, more than you wanted to admit.
That was the first time you gave in to him completely.
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IV. TO LOVE AND TO BE LOVED
You moaned against his lips, those that forcefuly broke the heated kiss you shared as he ruts into you desperately to reach his own climax. His flesh hitting against yours made an obscene harmony that echoed the confines the ship, far from civil and coherent noises fell from his lips as he sucked into the skin of your neck.
"Fuck, yes, right there," a broken whimper escaped your throat, your nails scratching his back, your walls clenching around his cock. "Cleon..."
The sound of his name being moaned by your sweet, raspy voice, caused him to slow down his thrusts just a bit.
"I still don't know your name," he whispered, bitting your bottom lip only to kiss you wet again.
"And yet you're fucking me, isn't that enough?" you teased, rolling your hips to meet his own.
He gave you a smirk, that fucking handsome smirk you hated so much. He took you with his strong arms, flipping you around so he was now on his back and you got control on top of him. You sinked down his dick setting a reckless rhythm, his thrusts matching yours every time you went down, his grip hard on your waist, marking and bruising your skin. One of his hands massaged your bouncing breasts, one after the other, pinching and then, you felt his mouth biting your nipples and chest, as he leaned your body to him for easy access, with slow grunts and groans that didn't sound human anymore.
His cock repeatedly hit that sweet spot from the position you were taking him, increasing the tension inside you. The sensation of his hands coming back to your sides and making its way to your ass cheeks to guide your bouncing hips became too much so soon. You cried as you felt drunk and high, muscles tense as you finally came. Cleon held you tight, fucking into you as you reached sweet release. His tongue traveled down your collarbone and breasts.
"Cleon," you moaned, your hands on his chest to support your body better. You felt him twitch inside you, knowing he was dangerously close too. Quickly, you slid off him, taking his girth, slick with your own wetness, between your hand you pumped him hard, easing his own release. His seed coated your palm, sprinkling on his abdomen.
"Shit, you're great," he praised, voice dark from lust. His fingers tangled into your hair, his forehead against yours as you recovered from the intense sex session you had for the second time that day. He kissed you sweetly, like a sweetness he only had discovered in the short time with you. "I wish I could know your name."
"You can call me your savior," you gave him a playful smile.
After a shared lazy kiss, you got on your feet, legs still shaking, and left the bed to clean yourself in the small place you called bathroom right next to the only room of the ship. Once finished, you threw the cloth away, and looked directly the mirror, or poor attempt of it. In the damp glass, you watched Cleon appear to embrace your body against his, your back touching his chest muscles and his hands roamed your abdomen while he left butterfly kisses on your shoulder. His big arms around you, pressing your figure to his own, huge in comparison entrusting protection.
The nineteenth day it was, and you spent it exploring your pleassures, talking nonsense and overall for Cleon, thinking he might love you. The confinement had flourished different kinds of feelings and sentiments inside his heart. He finally learned to feel something else besides hatred, power, or selfishness. The more you spoke to him, the more he grew to like you. You were far from perfect and so was he, and the way you opened your heart to him - the man who was to wed a powerful queen, govern thrillions of people around the galaxy and kill a few others - caused him to feel unworthy of anything coming from you. The man he grew up to be slowly disappeared as long as you had him under your light and spirit; his old self was fading away. And it scared him, but excited him at the same time. Even when he was very aware you were near the end together, he had nothing to ask for but to perish with you.
"What's in your head?" you whispered.
Cleon had no longer been tasting the skin of your neck, his chin pressed on your shoulder instead with his mind running a million thoughts by now. He took a glance at the damp and dirty mirror of how perfect you looked, bare and exposed in body and soul, only for his eyes to witness the true beauty of being alive. Of being human.
"You."
A loving smile curled up on your lips, looking directly into his enamoured gaze through the mirror. He decided he wanted to remember you like this in the afterlife.
You finished marking the last spot with an 'x', a wide grin over your face.
"I won."
"Yet again," Cleon chuckled. His laugh had grew sincere with you as he settled on the floor on the cold floor of the pilot cabin, just giving enough space for the board between you and him. "And what is your question, person-I-not-know-the-name-of?"
You just had finished playing another round of a silly game. It was an old Terran game, and you were surprised it made it this far across the galaxy. It was good to pass the time though. It kept you and Cleon thinking about other things besides dying. The fuel and energy, along with the water, were lowering on their levels. Food on the other hand was not a worry, you knew you could request to the traders as long as energy was functioning to make communication with them. However, the energy of your ship had to be loaded in land, just like fuel. And you had no place to go now to do that.
Being together as long as you had the resources was the main goal now. So many things crossed your mind as you talked about everything and nothing at the same time the past days.
"Have you ever been in love?" you asked after some time thinking.
You thought maybe it was the first time in Cleon's life that he was finally able to think and behave on his own, with no burdens about a dinasty to protect or pleasing his council.
He was taken by surprise as you spoke. He immediately remembered Demerzel, his loyal advisor. His relationship was merely sexual, but there were no feelings that would assimilate to what love is in reality. For sure, his own clone should have been woken up by now with no further consequences. For Cleon, it felt like he was actually erased from existence forever. He was disposable, just like his brothers. But thinking about your question, his answer was no. He never knew what love was. Not from Demerzel, certainly not from Dusk, Dawn was slightly different though, he did love Dawn but not the way you were referring to. He never knew the love from a mother or a father, nor family. Sareth hated him, so even if they got to marry he knew there would be no space for such sentiment. His own future children with the Queen of Cloud Dominion would have grown up without an essential part of being human.
"No," Cleon finally gave an answer, his gaze went soft as he realised what you just became to him in a matter of days. "However I sense something different when I am with you. And I don't recall to know what that is."
You smiled. "Isolation tends to create adjustments in those who suffer it."
"And have you?" Cleon asked back. "Have you ever felt it before?"
"I did... With my parents, my brother, my best friends, and a couple of assholes who broke my heart."
He chuckled, admiring the charm you had to brush off the hardships in your life. You smiled back at him. Gods you loved seeing him like this, like if he was happy and nothing had happened.
"And how is it?" he said.
"It's affection, it's addictive, not everyone can escape from it. You feel like you belong somewhere, that your life is strangely complete," you mumbled, locking your gaze with his own. "And it hurts a lot. But as you go through that path, you get to know the most beautiful kind of pain."
"Does it hurt now?"
You swallowed hard, that familiar knot on your throat. You were not expecting to feel this way. Not for the Emperor, not for the clone, not for Cleon. Yet one does not control love. You don't decide to love someone without a reason. And what else could two lost souls do in the middle of the galaxy with no purpose but to wait and die? You had opened your deepest fears and secrets to him, not expecting Cleon doing exactly the same. He trusted you and you trusted him. You slept in the same bed, ate the same food and fruits, fucked like animals everyday and yet there was an emotional connection in between you thought would never know again after so many years. How could you not fall for him when everything was crumbling? Finally, you nodded your head, feeling the tears burning in your eyes.
"I always have been alone, Cleon, but my soul seems to have a little love to give. In the end, love is what makes us human."
Cleon put the board of the game away and leaned closer to you, his hand caressed your cheek, cleaning the tears falling down your face as he pressed his forehead with yours. He kissed you softly, swallowing your pain, as a way to say he was hurting too.
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V. VOYAGE
It was the thirtieth day on the ship.
Your last try to get and land in any planet failed. As much as Cleon told you to stop, that everything was fine, you felt you had to keep trying until your last day. But the ship was basically to zero fuel and soon energy will follow. You used the control panel of the ship, hopefuly to find a near by land, but luck was not on your side. There was nothing. You don't know exactly how many miles you traveled with no course for a month. It was getting beyond bearing.
Frustrated, you pulled away the holo of the map and the calculations you did in the air, throwing a lose screw of your seat directly to the glass. It did nothing, but you were starting to hate the view of the stars and nothingness sorrounding.
"I told you to stop that," you listened to Cleon, who seemed just arrived to the pilot cabin.
"I had to try," you stood up, walking towards him. Your arms embraced his waist and he took you in with the same warmth.
"You're worried."
"I am not," you whined. "I should have sent for help with the merchants."
Cleon broke your hug and cupped your face between his hands, leaning closer to you.
"No, we should end this now," he whispered, his brows furrowed.
"No!"
"Why not? You wanted to do it even before you found me."
"Because now ending me is ending you too!"
Cleon felt your pain, but there was no other option to make than to blow up the ship anyway. Even if you were to land somewhere, what was for him? You were not able to go back home, and Cleon was discarded at this point. The throne could not have two of the same in the middle. Hiding and running away sounded like a good choice, but still, where? There was nothing left, but he found comfort with you.
"I am okay with this," he said. "I told you. You have to do it."
"Cleon-" you plea was cut by his voice.
"How much time do we have?"
"I don't know, a couple of days at last."
"Then do it. You said you were to decide when and how you would die, this is the time," he remembered with a stern voice. "Take it."
You let out a shaky breath and pushed him to press your lips to his own, like saying goodbye. But you still would not accept this fate. Not like this. You kissed him with hunger and need, your tongues tangled up as your mouths danced together.
"I just have- I can't yet," you mumbled once the kiss was over, leaving you both seeking for air. "Can we just fuck each others brains again and pretend none of this happened for a moment?" you asked against his lips, your hand now on his cheek, caressing the stubble on his face. You always remembered to help him shave and that was one of the most normal things you had to do since you found yourself confined with him. The most casual and mundane things to do became
He nodded. "Yes, my love.”
Cleon kissed your lips with the same hunger and desire, his hands caressing every inch of you until he lifted you up, your legs quickly went around his waist. With eyes closed, you let him guide you to the bar fixed against the wall of your ship.
He made sure to throw everything that was on the surface to the ground to place you in there. Once you were sitting, he pulled your legs apart to stand in the middle of them, and full with lust, his lips and teeth marked your neck and collarbone. You moaned sweetly, palming his groin still covered with the fabric of his pants. He traveled down your breasts, kissing over your shirt until he took it off. He was lucky you decided not to wear bra anymore. He sucked on your tits and nipples, grinding his hips against your hand.
You tried to pull his pants away, but he finished the job first, pulling away from your chest. After his pants were discarded, his shirt followed. He also got used to no underwear so he stood exposed all for you. A true god he was, looking perfect and like if every inch of his body was created for you to worship completely.
Cleon hurried in getting you out of your clothes, and in minutes you were naked and feeling his tongue dancing on your belly. His fingers and massive hands teasing your thighs, avoiding the place where you needed them the most. You moaned when he finally used a single digit to rub your slit, collecting your wetness. He rubbed your clit, mouth going slow and dangerously close to your pussy.
You laid your back on the bar and Cleon grabbed your thighs to have you exactly at the edge of the surface, ready to eat from your heat.
"Cleon," you cried out his name, your fingers tangled on his hair as his tongue licked your most sensitive parts.
He kept your hips in place, fucking you with his tongue and licking your folds, going to your clit. You couldn't help but whimper and moan, removing his hair to see just how much he yearned your cunt.
You tried to roll your hips but his grip was too strong. He looked up to lock his dark gaze with you, his humming creating strong vibrations down your core. He played some more, using a finger to tease your entrance. You were about to cum just by watching him.
"Cleon, please-" you gasped when he inserted a finger inside you, thrusting slowly. "Please, I want to taste you too."
He stopped, looking your flushed face for a moment. Your eyes were begging to suck him right now. He released your pussy with an obscene sound, pulling his tongue and hand away, but your wetness still shined on him. You got on the ground with his help and started to kneel down, kissing his skin, from his chest and then abdomen, licking and biting to leave your marks on his sculptured muscles. You made sure to adore and suck the skin of his navel, knowing he was insecure with not having a belly button. Still without it, he was more human than he could ever get to accept because you have seen that on him.
Cleon grunted once your hand wrapped around him, his hand on your scalp. You gave him a far from innocent look from your position before licking the head, rolling your tongue around it, lubing it with your saliva. His desperate groans led you to wrap your lips around him, pumping with your hand what you couldn't reach with your throat yet. You had to learn he was big for you, so a little of warm up for your mouth was a good start.
He cursed under his breath, thrusting his hips a little to go further, slowly, and you welcomed his cock with a small gag once he reached the back of your throat. He moaned darkly, your rubbed your thighs together when he started to fuck your mouth. Both his hands taking the sides of your head as you choked and gagged around his lenght. You felt him throbbing but he quickly pulled out, and left you empty and with drool falling from your lips, your pussy now aching and clenching around nothing.
"So beautiful," he purred, the touch on your scalp soft now. "But I want to finish inside you."
You nodded, obedient. Cleon helped you to sit down on the bar again, he stayed between your legs, spreading them wide, you held onto him, arms around his neck. He entered slowly, the warmth of your walls swallowing his cock, inch by inch, until it disappeared completely inside your dripping cunt.
You shivered, broken moans falling from your lips. Cleon muffled your low cries with kisses, waiting for you to get used to him.
"Fuck me, Cleon," you mumbled against his swollen lips.
He complied happily, thrusting and pounding into your heat, with a frenetic and brutal pace you had learn to love. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, yor nails scratching his arms and back. His cock touched all the right places inside you and he whispered sweet nothings into your skin, fucking you right under the light of the stars and the void of space.
He moaned along with you, wishing heaven or whatever it was after felt exactly like this. Like you, with your arms around him, your sweet voice calling his name lovingly and whimpering for more, giving your soul to him and only him. Your walls started to clench and his hips stuttered, aproaching a craving release. But in between, he heard a word against his ear you never mumbled before, turning his lustful eyes to you and slowing down his thrusts.
You repeated it again, he was visibly confused but kept ruting into you.
"My name," you said, fingers now caressing his hair.
He smiled. He knew it now. The stranger who saved him had a name after all. Cleon kissed you fiercely, repeating your name again and again between wet kisses. You were close to release, feeling one of his digits rubbing your clit as you moaned together. The wave of electricity took your body first, clenching your pussy around his cock. Cleon followed soon after, rhythm slow and tense muscles, until he spilled inside you, coating your sensitive cunt with his seed.
Catching your breath, you remained together. He sucked on your neck softly, your name was the only thought inside his mind. And as much as you loved his touch on you, you remembered there was something to do still.
"Cleon," you called, getting his attention and feeling he was pulling out of you with a low groan. He looked at you with loving eyes and you smiled. You brushed his hair with your fingers pulling him to yet another smooth kiss. "It's time."
He knew it was. In silence his fingers found his earring, twitsting it and pulling it apart. He took it from his ear and placed it on yours carefully. You were always amazed at his touch, how rough and yet soft and gentle he could be.
"So you can remember me," he smiled when he was over. You let out a laugh and curved your llps in a grin. "It suits you."
"Thanks, Cleon."
Cleon leaned down to kiss you one more time before cleaning both of you. You dressed together as if you were not about to meet finally death. For some reason, you saved everything that was not on their cabinets or initial positions, packing all you could, like if you could take those belongings with you, most of which were from your family. One day Cleon asked why you had clothes that could meet his height, being taller than a lot of people around. You told him it was from your best friend. You thought every piece of clothes or souvenirs would help someday, but it never crossed your mind that it was going to be this way.
When everything was was done, you and Cleon settled in front of the control panel, however, before you could start the holo, a loud explosion could be heard. You frowned, turning to Cleon.
"Did you-? Ah!"
The ship almost overturned as something heavy hit the side, making you trip and fall over with Cleon on the ground. Again, an explosion was heard, far from the ship but clear enough to say it was getting closer, and seconds later, the ship got hit but this time on the glass, almost breaking it over. Quickly, you both stood up and saw what was happening.
"A black hole..."
"Look, there are debris around," you pointed a huge piece that looked the size of your ship, but that definitely was part of a much bigger one. You saw the debris and metal being swallowed and destroyed by the black hole. It wasn't pacing fast, but wasn't slow either. It looked like it was talking its time for much bigger things to eat, such as your ship. Cleon called you, taking your hands and pressing his forehead to yours. You could feel he was shaking, and your skin grew cold. You realised it was really happening now.
"Do it," he said. "Destroy the ship."
After a moment of hesitation, you gave a nod. He kissed you deeply again. You turned the holo to activate the ship and program its own destruction.
"Self-destruction mechanism activated," the computer confirmed.
"We have sixty seconds," you mumbled, tears already forming in your eyes. He cut you off with a kiss. You would miss those warm lips on yours.
"That's enough for me," he said. You smiled and he did the same.
"I love you, Cleon," you embraced his body with a hug. "I am happy I met this kind of pain with you."
He cupped your cheeks, pecking your lips, smiling down at you, saying I love you too. You, the one who saved him and gave him a second chance. Or at least a moment of relief. A place and a person who allowed him to be himself and find things he never knew would have.
"We have more in common now," he whispered. "We are both alone and hurting somewhere in the galaxy.”
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raskies456 · 9 months
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“I’m my oldest brother Dusk, and I’m my middlest brother Day, and I’m my sweet baby brother, Dawn.”
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twinpainstar · 1 year
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the cleonic dynasty is actually so fucking funny cause whenever they have a problem they’re like. well guess i’m out of ideas. got any ideas, guy who is also me? 
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epuiseeparmedia · 8 months
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New hypothesis, how about a succession war between the Cleons with claims to middle throne:
- Queen Sareth/ Dawn with their offspring, fleeing Trantor to Dominion where they launch a rebellion
- Dusk, remaining at Trantor, sticking to the Cleon dynasty, making a coup against his disappointing brothers,
- Day, sticking with Demerzel ?, killed in the war with the foundation, Bel Riose sticking to him
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mercurygray · 10 months
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Started Foundation on Apple TV just...for something different, and because sci-fi, and why not, and I have to say, Lee Pace as a bored, overbearing space emperor is really doing it for me.
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occasionalmaven · 1 year
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Since it’s the Ides of March, Apple should have dropped a trailer for Foundation season two.
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catz4ever · 2 years
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Made a little bit of a Brother Day edit b/c I mean let's face it, he definitely has captivating BD energy...😏
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brotherdusk · 10 months
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ALL EMPIRES FALL!
FOUNDATION: SEASON 2 (2023)
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anundyingfidelity · 4 months
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INTERROGATION GONE WRONG – Cleon XIII/Brother Day
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Summary: Cleon XIII interrogates his statisticians about Hari Seldon's predictions. His in-turn maid remains there hearing the conversation, unbeknownst to him, knowing the answer - at least part of.
Pairing: Cleon XIII/Brother Day x female maid reader.
Word count: 2.9k.
Warnings: extremely dub-con, smut, abuse of power, forced orgasm, choking, fingering, degradation, p in v, creampie, not the soft aftercare you're waiting for. The author is also non native English speaker.
Notes: this is based on that scene of 1x04. This is the most non-con thing I've written ever. I gave my warnings. Also please watch Foundation lol, this show reminded me of how much I loved Lee Pace since like 2014. Once I'm in, I will never get out and I needed to write something for Cleon I love him he is an idiot.
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
GEN MASTERLIST!
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The man fell with a thud on the floor. You should be scared, surprised, trembling with fear, but this was not new behavior for you or anyone in the palace. Since Seldon's exile and the disaster shaking the Empire gradually, the response of the new Cleon was clearly expected after being a witness of a poor reunion and inconvenience with the staticians. More than a conversation, it felt like a judgment, a death one.
"Dining, now," he ordered passing by your figure on his way to leave the throne room. With a bow, you followed in an instant and ready to serve him.
Cleary, you could tell he was not in the good mood that day, already skipping the meal for breakfast with his brothers earlier; something that was out of the itineraries. Once a change of the routine happened, it meant something was off, so you thought. Demerzel was also not around, attending other meetings, so this left you alone with Empire, opening the door of the sole dining room the Brothers used privately, with the tall figure of Cleon XIII waiting impatiently for his midday meal and looking every move you made around the place to please him as fast as your feet allowed.
The cooks served the meal arranged from the menu after your order and they left as rapid as they came in, Brother Day dispatching them with a hand gesture once they were done. You took a couple of steps back, standing close to the table but ready in case he dispatched your presence as well.
"Not you, you stay," he commanded after sipping his wine for the first time, eyes focused on the plate he would eat.
"Yes, Empire."
You had to obligue, and that is what happened. You watched him from the corner of your eye, from time to time in silence, pretending to be unconcerned and collected, though that was far from being true. The whole meal time was eternal, specially that day. With no Brother Dawn nor Brother Dusk around for Brother Day to have a bland talk with, only the sound of fine cutlery clinking against porcelain as Empire ate. Boring, your head began to spin around, thinking in non-senses and theories of what you heard and read from Seldon's predictions of the fall. Empire was cruel, but it had you working, serving food to your plate, and probably that was enough. But it didn't stop your curiosity of learning further the philosophy of Hari Seldon.
When in front of Empire, your gaze seemed lost but your mind was working. You never said a single comment about studying Seldon's theory, of course. You were just a maid. Science and university never were a good pair for a woman who served the Empire. However, you still found the math behind his calculations as something intriguing and fascinating for some reason...
"Maid," the loud voice of the Emperor interrupted your daydream. "I said, wine."
The intense look on his eyes forced you to attend his order fast, serving more of the fermented liquid on the cup standing besides his plate.
His large hand took the cup when you filled it with wine and he sipped again, his eyes scanning you slow and deep. You knew he sensed something was wrong with you. Swallowing, you noticed he already had finished with his meal, so you finally you dared to speak.
"Can I retire your plate, Empire?"
"Is there something you want to share, maid?" he responded, blatantly ignoring your question and dragging your title like it was nothing but a shameful word to spill.
"At all, Empire," your voice came as a whisper.
Brother Day stood on his feet with such grace and started a slow walk towards your figure. You wanted to step away, but you feet were glued to the ground, so his tall and intimidating form washed over you soon.
"Speak," he instructed coldly. You started to tremble, unable to take off your scared eyes from him, bitting your bottim lip as he leaned. "Or do you want to be punished?"
His hand forced around your neck all of a sudden. As an act of reflection, you tried to pull back from his grip, but he was much stronger, having you in place and cutting your breath. "I know you hide enthusiasm around Doctor Seldon's theories," he whispered darkly on your ear. "I am not giving you a choice, speak!"
As he yelled down his last words, he pushed you harshly, body falling to the grown. Air filled your lungs once again and you coughed, sitting down and watching that he was coming closer with big steps. You dragged yourself on the floor using your hands and feet trying to not tangle yourself with the fabric of your dress. Fighting the tears on your eyes, your back touched the wall and sobbed. There was nowhere to go now. So you finally confessed.
"Your staticians would not give you a number because it's true!" you cried out. Brother Day stopped on his tracks just a couple of inches before you. "It's all true, Doctor Seldon is right. And it all began with the Star Bridge, I know you were a child when it happened because I was a child too when the crisis started. There is a probability, but is not zero," you said, recalling his words.
You saw his face changed. He was exhasperated already, but rage appeared in his eyes in a very visible way; a rage that you had yet to see from Empire. Fear took over you, afraid of what would happen next. Should you keep talking? Should you continue crying? Scream for nobody to come around for your sake? As you questioned yourself, he lowered himself to be at your level on the ground. Brother Day never sat down, but he was making sure to get under your skin. His powerful gaze had a quick effect to do that.
"Go on."
Too scared to speak, you opened your lips but no sound came out. Empire waited your words for a moment, scrutinizing your face. And still, nothing came. He grabbed your arm with a rough grip, forcing you to stand up, colliding with his body until your back hit the empty part of the table he had been eating in.
"You have ten seconds to continue or I will force everything that is in your head out of you, maid," Cleon threatened. "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three-"
"I said it was probability," you shuddered. "Life is a probability by all means and Seldon knows that," you breathed, aware that Brother Day was feeling your shaking body under his piercing eyes. "I studied Doctor Seldon's psychohistory and theory for the last four years, learning math and other sciences on my free time on the library. So even if I don't posses a title, I know his hypothesis was only that at the time; a hypothesis can be null, but also be provable, and thus now is not untrue."
He slowly leaned away.
"So you say there is no error on Seldon's ecuation," he concluded, jaw clenching.
"None that I could find."
Brother Day paced in front of you, back and forth, hrad processing what he just heard. You could tell he was getting what he wanted, but nothing was what he really longed for. And what you found was nothing but the truth. Maths don't miss, it was useless to lie.
"How do you simply fall into a conclusion like that? Prophecies of the Empire declining into a dark age after centuries of rising. Of our legacy!" he stopped again and went back to your figure, trapping your body between himself and the dining table. You felt his breath when he leaned close, the smell of wine and fruits mixing with his cologne was intoxicating your nostrils as the last tears flowed down your cheeks. Sooner or later, you thought he was going to end up with your life. You had nothing left to lose by now.
"It's simple history and logic. Everything that goes up has to go down, even empires."
All you felt was his big palm slapping your face, your back hitting the edge of the table. A hurted moan filled the room, and he forced you to look at him grabbing your chin with the same strenght he had used on you all this time, like you were nothing more than a doll to play with as he pleased.
"In other circumstances, I would find you amusing," he breathed gainst your lips. The touch of his thumb on your cheek, wiping away your last tears, contrasted the roughness of his words, his body between your legs and his weight pressing you to lie down on the surface.
"Psychohistory words, not mine," you whispered, your hands running to wrap around his wrist, but his aura repelled instantly your touch. It was useless to keep trying. So here you were, ready for Brother Day to end with your life in just the blink of an eye. "Maybe Brother Dusk made a mistake," you continued, giving up on leaving the room alive. "Make Hari Seldon stay instead..."
Brother Day pressed further against you, almost crushing you with his significant huge frame.
"Such a talented brain and mouth, why don't I put you to good use? I think I deserve it."
He forcefuly turned you around until you were bending over the table, a loud gasp falling from your mouth. One of his hands making its way between your legs caused your thighs to press together, trying to stop him, but it was impossible, so you had nothing to do but beg.
"Please, Empire," you felt like crying again at his touch, his fingers cupping your clothed pussy in a slow motion. "Stop, please-"
"Shut up, whore," he grunted, rubbing his crotch against your ass and slammed your face with his free hand so you had your cheek lying against the cold surface. "I had enough from you."
Heartbeat rising, you tried with no results to escape from his body cage. The sway of your hips caused Empire to grow eager. His slender fingers pushed your panties aside, coating them with your own wetness, and that was certainly something you did not expect to be down there. He hummed in response, rubbing your folds, and you exhaled once he entered one finger.
Your body responded to his ministrations, his growing erection pressing against the curve of your ass while he played with your cunt as he wanted, easing a second digit inside your walls. Probably you should just give in by now as you felt your muscles tighten, already reaching your high. Almost. The first moan of pleassure escaped your throat and you regreted the answer of lust coming from your body the following instant, your palms holding yourself on the table.
His long digits fucked you faster and your legs trembled, his thumb played with your clit so deliciously you thought you were passing out soon. He leaned down until you could feel his breath on your neck.
"Fucking take it," he groaned, feeling your warm walls pulsing around his fingers.
Almost not having control over your body, your legs further opened, like his voice just ordered you to do it.
"Please, please..."
Again, you cried and begged, not sure of the reason. For pleassure, shame, mercy... Anything was possible at that moment as whimpers and moans fell from your mouth.
The sensation grew stronger down your belly, feeling him exploring your insides too deep, touching a place no man nor your fingers reached before. It happened repeatedly, it felt so sweet and sinful. Like something you never knew but you were sure would leave you aching for more. His fingers making you so drunk and pleading for a release, and the seconds that passed by were endless until you finally blissed out with a loud moan, convulsing by the work of his hand.
Brother Day gave himself a wicked smile, watching you squirm and gasp. Such a strong orgasm he ripped out of you. He pulled his fingers away from your pulsing cunt and admired your wetness coating them before he raised the skirt of your dress and took off your panties until they were hanging between your ankles.
You grimaced at the feel of his big palms rubbing your ass cheeks, parting them to get a view of your throbbing heat, still clenching around nothing. You could listen to him undoing his pants. He hissed, taking his hard lenght to rub the sensitive skin of your ass and his thick tip teased your slit, sliding slowly inside. You gasped at the sudden intrusion as he stopped from filling you up completely, feeling your tight cunt embracing him.
"Empire, please not this-"
"This is how I prefer you," Cleon whispered on your neck, you stopped your plea. "Submissive and quiet. You are not so bold now, are you?"
And he slowly entered your pussy further. You whined, nails scratching the fine material of the table. You were so tight and warm. He had to control himself of not pounding into you right away. Being filled up by the Emperor shouldn't arouse your body like this, but your heat welcomed his cock like it was the perfect missing piece of a puzzle.
"Are you a virgin, maid?" he asked, hips giving a couple of shallow, slow thrusts. Your hips moved in sink with his own, your nipples were now hard and erect against the surface, scratching the fabric of your bra and dress, giving up into heavenly bliss. Sweet mewls left your lips as he stretched your cunt. And it was oh, so long since you felt this full.
"No, Empire."
Your response was the green light. He started to rut into you. Rough. Even if your answer was to be different, you knew Empire would not care. He used to get away with what he wanted, and right now he wanted you. His own grunts made eco along with the sound of his skin hitting your ass, your moans escaping without any shame now. The small amount of discomfort he caused was transformed into pleassure and arousal, keeping his hands firmly on your hips.
"Then you can take it, you've done this before," he mocked, increasing his rough pace.
His grip was strong on your sides, you knew his fingers would leave marks on your skin once you finished. But nothing mattered, you decided, the only on your mind was reaching sweet climax and release. You could not escape from him, not ever. So your body and mind could go through it.
Cleon's eyes found the perfect spot of view to see his cock entering and sliding out your perfect pussy, his shaft glistening with your wetness and his own precum. He stopped and pulled out for a moment, teasing with entering and pulling out, watching himself sliding inside your body.
"Oh gods," he listened to your broken moan, breath hitching.
He again cupped your neck with his palm, fingers roaming around your throat, forcing your back to meet his chest. Your moans were cut by his firm hand, air being a privilige as seconds passed by. He sucked and bit the skin of your neck, burying his cock until his balls met your ass repeteadly, finding that sweet spot of yours.
"Cum," he ordered. "Cum or you will not breath again."
You knew you were close, but you needed it faster. You needed to breath, as good as his cock felt, fucking you and splitting you open, you still needed to make it until the end. Your fingers found your clit and played with your bud as Empire bucked his hips fast and rough. Finally, your muscles tensed and forced a hard orgasm out of you, walls pulsing around his dick. He grunted, not slowing his thrusts, softening the hand around your neck allowing you oxygen again.
"Merciful am I?" he groaned and you felt his seed painting your insides, cock throbing as he also came from his high.
"You are, Empire," you breathed out.
Your back arched and you held yourself on his hands and chest. You heard the sound of one of the chairs being taken out, being dragged by him until you felt he sat down, you on his lap with his cock still burried deep inside you. His slick cum ran down your inner thighs as he parted your legs, touching your abused cunt and clit, feeling how you were still connected. He rubbed your pussy in slow, gentle moves, collecting his cum mixed with your juices. He offered his fingers to your lips, so you licked them as he wished, sucking them clean. Your walls pulsed again.
"So obedient now," Cleon purred.
His hands undid your dress to free your chest, groping your tits as he pleased. He played with your nipples, just like he had played with all of you in a few minutes.
"What will happen to me?" you asked in a murmur.
"Such a pretty cunt you are," Brother Day began, tracing kisses on your shoulder. His voice made you shiver. "You would please me a lot as a cuncubine of the Gossamer Court."
You swallowed hard, not capable of speaking or fighting back. He felt your body tensing so he continued his speech in your ear. "No worries, I can play with you some more before it happens. And you will tell me everything you know about Seldon."
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shootingstardc · 2 years
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Lee Pace ✨
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raskies456 · 8 months
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I think they’re just gonna keep adding a new body to the tide pool each new foundation ep
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Foundation isn't the most well written show but it's pretty enjoyable so far (I'm 3 eps in) in all other regards. I'm going bonkers over the concept of the Emperors, I'll post something about that when I'm finished with the season.
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epuiseeparmedia · 8 months
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So have Gaal and Hari been plotting and playing with Tellem since episodes 6-7?
That’s my working theory for now.
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mercurygray · 10 months
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When Empire Was Young -Brother Day x OFC
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The business of the court persists, and Brother Day is bored with it. There is one petitioner more before they adjourn - and she seems to be taking especial delight in angering her Emperor…
Fandom: Foundation 2021 (Apple TV) Cleon XIII x Original Female Character.
Rated T - nothing explicit here (except maybe how very annoyed Day is.)
Brother Day was bored.
An inauspicious word, he knew - he would hardly deign to utter it aloud. The ruling of our worlds is never boring, dearest Brother! He’d heard Brother Dusk say it more times than he liked to admit. We are the Three-fold Throne, blessed with worlds beyond number to command and manage - the whole host of the universe! 
And yet they were here, and he was bored.
The business at hand would wrap up soon, he thought, and then he would be free to go hunt. The woods had been little disturbed of late and the game doubtless getting complacent. There was but one thing more and he could leave.
“The Ambassador from Kentos, Empire,” the hall-steward announced.
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Day took a deep breath and recalled the brief that Demerzel had served to them this morning - Kentos. A small world rich in oxygen and plant life, known for its flowers and gardens. It had developed a small popularity among travelers as a rest-haven on some of the longest haul flights between outer reaches of the universe - the air there was rumored to be especially restorative after too long in hypersleep. The first Cleon, in his younger years, was said to have enjoyed his visit - he’d placed some protections on it that meant to preserve the special qualities of the atmosphere. It was custom, too, that Brother Dusk, on his ascendancy, might visit for a fortnight or so to mark the time - a fact that Dusk had made note of himself, when Demerzel had given them their brief. They have revived an old custom to come with tribute for you, Empire, Demerzel had explained.  To celebrate the anniversary of Cleon’s Gift.
Day had mused, privately, that if they made time to mark every single anniversary they’d hardly have time for the business of the day, but Demerzel’s logic models were usually good and her judgement in these things was impeccable. It would be but a pause in the day’s business - a small moment of calm. Who could say no to that?  
The Ambassador was a young female, obviously specially selected to this post, wearing a robe of deep viridian that recalled forests and foliage, shifting with iridescence with each step in a way that made Day call to mind a particular species of beetle. Her attendants, in perfect step behind her, all wore brown - the better to let their leader shine the brighter, one assumed. She made a gesture with her hands like a flower opening up and bowed low to present her hands to the assembled thrones. “A thousand blessings bloom upon you, Empire.”
“Should it not be three thousand, Ambassador?” Dusk asked, his smile beneficent from the Evening Throne. “I should hate to split such a greeting among my brothers and it does not divide cleanly.”
Tired old man, Day thought peevishly, watching the Ambassador’s smile widen just a little at the bad joke. Must you really try to make every pretty girl smile?
“If it pleases you, Empire, a thousand thousands,” she replied with ease, her bow dipping deeper still. Oh, she’s well-schooled for this.  “May the Heavens smile always upon you and the Three-Crowned Throne.”
“You have a pretty manner for one so young, Ambassador - your leaders chose their messenger well. We recall well our own last visit to your homeworld,” Dusk continued. “Most refreshing and well-met. A splendid welcome.”
“We are honored that Empire’s memory esteems us so,” she replied. “We come with a gift for you, to celebrate the time-honored bonds between our world and your august selves.” The attendant behind her drew forward, and she undraped the object in the woman’s arms to reveal a chest, cunningly carved all over with vines and flowers, which she then presented before the thrones.
“A box,” Day said dryly, very underwhelmed and beginning to regret their decision to allow this audience. “Surely your leaders know we already own such things in quantity. A bouquet of fresh flowers would have been more novel.”
She made a small bow of apology towards the middle throne. “If I had known Empire’s preference for such things, Revered One, I should of course have brought them.  What I have is a small token, only. Our botano-historians and plantmasters have managed to resurrect a flower recently known to be extinct - a favorite of your august self when you made your first visit to our humble planet many centuries ago. In our language we call it kitri - it was traditionally prepared as a tea, which we have brought, along with its traditional implements, for you to prepare and enjoy.”
“Oh, splendid,” Dusk said happily, his joy almost childlike. “Your teas were of particular pleasure on our visit. A rare treat indeed. Have you sampled it yourself?”
She nodded, turning towards the Evening Throne. “I have, Empire. It has a pleasing aroma, when prepared properly, and a mild stimulating effect. There was of old a ceremony for the serving of this tea, which I have also been instructed in - should Empire direct me thus, I will be happy to oblige.”
“Oh, yes, of course. It would be instructive for Brother Dawn,” Dusk said fondly, looking over at the Morning Throne and the youngest of the three, pale and spotted in his robes of light blue. (He, too, looked rather taken with the prospect of having this enchanting creature all to himself; Day made a note that a visit to the Gossamer Court might finally be in order. ) “Tradition and ceremony are a good part of any young man’s education. Have a quantity of it brought to my chambers, Demerzel, after the usual checks.”
“Instructive - and potentially dangerous,” Day cut in. “Have the Ambassador come to my rooms first. She will perform this thing for me - and my personal taster, of course. We have some time this afternoon, I think.” He looked over to Demerzel, who gave an efficient nod. “See that the Ambassador has what she requires.”
“Of course, Empire.”
The three of them raised their hands as one, making the ancient sign. “Respect and enjoy the peace.”
The whole court bowed as they made their exit, and the Three Thrones retired away to lunch, Dusk and Dawn now sharing stories of Dusk’s time on Kentos before Demerzel interceded with pronouncements about the rest of the day’s schedule.
At the end of the meal another senior servant came and made a bow to the table. “The Ambassador has been assembled in your receiving room, Empire, and awaits at your pleasure.”
Day briefly considered - would it be better to make her wait? The hunt was calling his name again. But then you’ll need to do it later, he reflected. Better now and have it done for good.
The regular furniture of the receiving room had been cleared away, and in its place was a small, low table, placed atop a carpet of grasses that the Ambassador must have also brought with, the table arrayed with a startling variety of tools that Day could neither identify or name. On one side of the table, the Ambassador knelt, her green robe from earlier pared down to a much simpler dress that left her shoulders bare, her headpiece also removed and her hair loose so that she appeared in a much more informal mode.
She gestured to the place opposite, where a circular cushion was arranged. “As the honored guest, you have the cushion, Empire. A show of hospitality and welcome.”
“Is your world such a poor place that your people can ill afford furniture, Ambassador?” Day asked, folding himself down onto the cushion and surveying the table and its implements, all laid out in pristine order. “How very dull for you.”
“Like all ceremony, Empire, it has its roots in an imagined reality - a humble host who gives all she has for an honored guest. But before your esteemed person I need not pretend poverty - who can contend with the riches of the Triple Throne?”
Day made a sound of agreement - that, at least, was true.
There was some small interest in watching the scene play out in front of him - the ceremonial striking of a flint three times over the cup before it was brought to the neat pile of coals under the brazier, the fluid motion of her hands as she scooped back the gauze of her fore-sleeve to pour the water into a second vessel to observe the steam. The flower itself, an uninteresting and wizened little ball of brown, made an appearance in the palm of her hand, placed with precision in the bottom of the cup. 
Day, meanwhile, was growing restless again. The hunting grounds were growing more appealing by the minute, and this was verging on blinding tedium. He could see the appeal to Brother Dusk, passing his time leisurely until the end, but the Middle Throne had business to attend to. “If this is your marvel, Ambassador, then your leaders had a wasted journey,” he said, making little secret to his annoyance. “I see little to astonish.”
“The marvel comes with time, Empire,” she responded evenly, pouring water over the little brown ball and covering the cup with a flat circle of wood. “On my world, we say often that as it is with flowers, so with joy - that the best things come to those who wait.”
“Some people would consider that message an impertinence, to a king.”
“And perhaps it is,” she acknowledged, finally raising her gaze to meet his own. “Our historians record that my ancestor and yours drank kitri together, once. When the Empire was young.”
When the Empire was young - a clever phrase. She meant when the first Cleon still walked the halls of this palace, or at least, a younger version of the bloodline. It would be impossible, of course, to commit to memory every single happenstance in a chain of thirteen lifetimes. Client states and planets came and went with dismissable regularity. There would be something in the archives about it, if he had the need for exact details later.  “Oh, really.”
Her eyes held his gaze carefully, hair curtaining just so across her face in what he could only assume might be regarded as modesty. “I was told I am very like her, Empire.” 
Day stared for a moment until he realized what he was seeing – she was trying to seduce him. 
It almost made him laugh - seduction! As if he could be so cheaply bought.  That was a scheme from long ago, before the Genetic Dynasty made such things irrelevant. A pretty face, sent to tempt their king, to offer an alliance built on blood and the promise of an heir. One of many, of course - everyone believes they wish to wed an emperor. But no one ever just wants us, Day thought to himself. They want our power. That is what keeps the threefold path alive and unspoiled – we are our own continuance. No need to parse or delegate or scheme to keep ourselves alive. “Do you think you’re somehow clever?”  he asked, scoffing at her across the table. “What you’re doing has been done to me a hundred times before - and shall be done a hundred times again when you are dust.”
Somehow this observation did not wound her – still she smiled, her gaze direct. “No cleverness, Empire. You asked for this instruction and I gave it. That was the intended purpose of the gift.”
“Thus offering us the opportunity to be alone,” he said, pointedly. She made no reply, and he continued. “In older days the seduction of the king might mean getting one of his by-blows – but such things gain you nothing here. Our geneticists and doctors see to that.” If you came looking for Cleon’s bastard, I’m afraid you’ll go home looking still.
“But the act itself is still a pleasure, is it not, Empire? Cannot pleasure be its own end?”
That made him pause. She was pretty, after a fashion, though hardly remarkable. (Hadn’t Brother Dusk observed that already? They were alike in their tastes in this regard – the cloning kept them so.) “I can easily get that pleasure elsewhere.” I have the entire Gossamer Court at my disposal – why should I look to the likes of you for that?
A careful nod. “Of course, Empire. Your word and will are law and should not be denied you.”
His breath was sharp, catching on the deliberation in her words – deny me! The very suggestion galled him. He should have her right here, on this gods-damned table, and to hell with these charades. It would be simple - she could not hope to stop him. “You think you can deny your emperor?”
“Of course not, Empire. I am a mere subject and accede, always, to your glorious will. But it is possible to still play the game, is it not?”
Play the game! What, that he was not the Three-Crowned Throne and could kill her with a word? That she was somehow not entirely within his power? How did she know precisely how to vex him? “You think your Emperor a man for gaming?” Have I not better uses for my time? These are not simple matters, woman! It was for this my house was born! 
“I think palace life is predictable,” she replied. “And as I said – sometimes a thing is better after one waits to taste it.” She reached down to the table, her hand elegantly removing the cover from the cup. “Shall you summon your taster so we may have our tea?”
It was the last straw – he would not give her the pleasure of seeing his full discontent. “Get out,” he snapped. “Your presence tires me.”
If this unnerved her, she did not show it – her movements were still full of fluid grace as she rose from her seat and made her bow, the tea things still in perfect, untouched order on the table. “As Empire commands.” 
He leaned back in his chair, still fuming at the thought. A game! What use had he for games? If he wanted a thing, he would have it - the simplest kind of calculus. A game! His blood was fairly boiling at her and every fiber of his body cried for war – to run, throw, crush and maim. How would his hands feel wrapped around her perfect little neck, mm? How then? Would she be so gods-damned calm with all her air choked out?
He rose swiftly from his chair, energy coursing through him, and his eye caught sight of something - a flash of color in her tea things, still set upon the table. Inside the cup that she’d prepared, a perfect flower bloomed below the water, striking yellow against the white, the tendrils of steam framing it just exactly how she had described. The brown thing of before was gone. Sometimes a thing is better when one waits to taste it.
It was too much – he picked up the cup and threw it against the wall, grossly pleased at the sound of its shattering. How’s that for your priceless antique, then, Ambassador? His hand hummed a little with the pain of the hot water, nanobots working tireless under his sky to heal the burn away, but that hardly signified – in a moment it would be gone. The flower now lay lifeless on the floor, surrounded by shards, the tea running, in sad rivulets, down the wall behind it. He sneered at it a moment and then looked back at her empty place - before he heard her voice again with stunning clarity, a woman unamused by petulance.
Well. I guess you won’t know how it tastes, then. Your loss, Revered One. 
Day stared a moment longer and gave an audible snarl.  “Obrecht!” The Shadowmaster appeared at the doorway in an instant, ready to do whatever his lord commanded. “Send word to the Gamemaster I want to hunt - something larger than ghilliehawks today. His Empire is sanguine today.” And after that the Gossamer Court - or else our prisons. If the hunt goes poorly I may have a need to whip something.
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