#our mere presence is not a threat to you any more than yours is a threat to us

[transmascissues]

building off of this post, people love to say that “trans men want to keep going into in women’s spaces after they transition because they just want to have the best of both worlds!” but in my experience, there are four main reasons that a trans man might use a “women’s space” after they transition:

it’s an important resource that’s being arbitrarily gendered and we need to use it regardless of which gender is “supposed to” be using it.

it’s a public facility where we’d be significantly less safe in the men’s version and we have to choose our safety over our desire to not be misgendered.

it’s a social space that we’ve been in since before we transitioned and we don’t want to suddenly be cut off from our friends and support system.

the trans man in question is multigender and is also a woman, or maintains some other kind of connection to womanhood alongside their manhood.

do any of those sound like “evil men rubbing our dirty little hands together making plans for how we’re going to get male privilege without losing access to women’s spaces” to you? they sure don’t to me!

i think it’s pretty reasonable that we want to transition without losing the ability to access the resources we need, keep ourselves safe, keep up the relationships we’ve built, and express all facets of who we are. all of those are really, like, pretty basic parts of having good life and we shouldn’t be expected to give them up when we transition.

and honestly, if you claim to care about trans people, you should not be so attached to the gendering of these spaces that you’re willing to deny trans men those things for the sake of upholding gender restrictions. anyone who prioritizes the sanctity of gender segregated spaces over the safety, health, and well-being of trans men is a fucking transphobe. (yes, even if you’re trans yourself.)

and that’s what really gets me about all of this — the vehemence with which people are willing to defend those spaces being entirely and inflexibly gendered, despite how enforcement of gendered spaces has hurt trans people time and time again. gendered spaces have literally always been set up in ways that force trans people to break the rules; some trans men might break those rules in ways that don’t make sense to you, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong for us to do so! it just means you might feel weird about it and that’s okay, discomfort won’t kill you.

“but using women’s spaces after transitioning to male defeats the purpose of transitioning! the whole point of transitioning is to be able to live as a man!”

and who are you to tell trans men what the point of our transitions should be? what if the purpose of us transitioning is just to live the happiest and most fulfilled life possible, and forcing ourselves into unsafe spaces or denying ourselves access to important resources or cutting ourselves off from important people in our lives or pushing down the more complex parts of our genders would “defeat the purpose of transitioning” for us? what if being able to go where cis men go is just one part of a much bigger journey, not the end goal?

if you really want to talk about “defeating the purpose,” let’s talk about how policing which gendered spaces trans men can access defeats the purpose of trying to stop cis people from policing which gendered spaces trans people can access, because it allows the policing of trans people in gendered spaces to continue in some form instead of eliminating it altogether. let’s talk about how using “evil men invading women’s spaces” rhetoric against trans men defeats the purpose of trying to stop cis people from using it against trans women, because it allows the rhetoric to continue in some form instead of eliminating it altogether.

the point of saying “let people decide which gendered space is right for them” isn’t to make sure everyone uses the one aligned with their “true gender,” it’s to let people do what’s best for them without punishing them for their choice. sometimes the best choice is one that seems wrong from the outside, and you need to learn to live with that.

i just think we as a community need to be more hostile toward people who think upholding the sanctity of a gendered space is more important than giving trans people the freedom to move through the world without being punished for existing in those gendered spaces. that kind of thinking is fucking dangerous and it’s weird as hell that some of y’all are so comfortable with it being directed at us.

moral of the story: stop giving so much of a shit about where a trans man decides to piss or see a doctor or hang out or whatever else. even if you think he doesn’t belong there, he probably has a good reason to be there anyway, and that reason is frankly none of your damn business.

#im SO tired of this bro #like just shut up why are you so worried about this #i promise the big bad trans men arent here to hurt you. were just living our fucking lives #our mere presence is not a threat to you any more than yours is a threat to us #and even if you dont give a shit about us. this thinking leaves the door wide open for transmisogyny to join the party #so like. if you wont shut up for our sake do it for the trans women&fems who also get fucked over in the end #transandrophobia #transandromisia #transmisandry #virilmisia #virilphobia #anti transmasculinity #transmascphobia #trans men #transmascs

[kckt88]

The Lost Dragon III - Slip Away.

Summary:

Aegon makes a sinister threat, and Vaelys makes a choice.

Warning(s): Angst, Threats, Uncle/Niece Incest, Smut - Oral Sex (F-Recieving), P in V, Escape Attempt, Death.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 4149

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated

Vaelys breathed in the fresh air as she strolled through the gardens of the Red Keep, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin after being confined to her chambers.

The gardens were alive with the vibrant colours of blooming flowers, their sweet fragrance filling the air and lifting her spirits.

Aemond followed behind Vaelys as she meandered through the gardens. His gaze lingering on her form, admiring the way the sunlight danced in her silver hair and the gentle sway of her dress with each step she took.

He matched her pace, content to walk a few steps behind her, allowing her to lead the way through the path of greenery. Though he could have easily walked beside her, he found a quiet pleasure in watching her explore the gardens at her own pace.

Every so often, Vaelys would pause to admire a particularly beautiful flower or to reach out and touch the leaves of a nearby tree. Aemond would stop as well, his attention fully on her as she immersed herself in the natural beauty surrounding them. He couldn't help but smile as he watched the genuine joy that lit up her face, knowing that this simple moment brought her happiness.

As Aemond and Vaelys continued their leisurely stroll through the gardens, they were interrupted by the sudden appearance of Helaena.

"Vaelys, would you like to come and search for spiders with me? I've heard there are some fascinating specimens hiding among the bushes” exclaimed Helaena, her voice laced with a hint of eagerness.

Vaelys recoiled slightly, a shiver running down her spine at the mere mention of spiders.

"Oh, Helaena-I-I'll come with you” replied Vaelys, her voice hesitant. "But I think I'll be content to observe from a safe distance."

Helaena nodded, her smile widening. "Of course, Vaelys. Your company is all I need."

As they ventured deeper into the garden, Helaena's excitement was evident. Her eyes eagerly scanning the foliage for any signs of their arachnid quarry. Vaelys followed close behind, her gaze darting nervously from one shadowy corner to the next.

Just as they reached a particularly dense cluster of bushes, a young squire came running up to them, his face flushed with urgency.

"Prince Aemond," he gasped, "The King demands your presence at a council meeting immediately."

Aemond's brow furrowed in concern as he turned to the squire, his thoughts already drifting to the matters that required his attention.

“It’s ok brother-I shall keep an eye on Vaelys,” said Helaena.

“But-“ replied Aemond.

“I’m more than capable of keeping my good sister company. If it makes you feel any better Ser Charles is standing watch” replied Helaena.

Reluctantly, Aemond nodded, knowing he had little choice but to trust in Helaena's assurances. With a final lingering look at Vaelys, he turned and hurried off towards the castle, his mind already consumed with the matters that awaited him.

“A dragon across the sea, a bronze heart waiting to be free,” said Helaena.

“What does that mean?” asked Vaelys.

“You’ll find out” replied Helaena.

“When?”

“After the butterfly is born” said Helaena smiling.

"My King," said Otto tentatively, "The Velaryon fleet has effectively strangled our trade routes, and they've cut off all naval access to and from Blackwater Bay. Our coffers are dwindling by the day, and our allies grow restless".

"Restless?! They dare threaten the stability of the realm. This blockade is an act of treason!" snarled Aegon slamming his fist on the table.

"Your Grace, we must tread carefully. The Velaryon’s are a powerful house-“ said Grand Maester Orwyle, his voice a calm contrast to the King's fury.

“Who support my whore of a sister” snapped Aegon.

“Acting rashly could lead to further escalation” warned Otto.

"Escalation?!" Aegon rose from his seat, his violet eyes flashing with fury. "They seek to undermine my rule, to force me to relinquish the crown to my sister! They will learn that the blood of the dragon does not yield so easily."

"Your Grace, if I may, we could attempt to negotiate with House Velaryon. Find a peaceful resolution, offer concessions—" said Maester Orwyle.

"Concessions?!" Aegon's voice thundered through the chamber. "I will not negotiate with traitors! We will crush this blockade by force if necessary!"

“Your Grace we could-“ muttered Jasper Wylde.

"Enough!" Aegon's voice thundered through the room, cutting through the whispered deliberations like a sword through flesh. "We have wasted too much time entertaining futile suggestions. It is clear what must be done."

The council fell silent, all eyes turning to the king, his figure towering over the seated lords and advisors.

"We have dragons, my brother has Vhagar" Aegon declared, his voice low and dangerous. "And it is time we remind House Velaryon and all who dare challenge the Iron Throne of the power that resides within these walls."

A hushed murmur of apprehension spread through the room, at the mention of the dragons.

"Your Grace, the use of dragons in such a manner-it could have dire consequences. We cannot unleash such devastation lightly." warned Otto.

Aegon fixed his steely gaze on his Hand, his violet eyes ablaze with determination. "The Velaryon’s have forced our hand. They seek to starve us into submission, to bend the knee to my sister. But they underestimate the strength of House Targaryen, the strength of our dragons."

"Your Grace, we must consider the repercussions of such actions. House Velaryon may have set the blockade, but they are not alone in their allegiance to Princess Rhaenyra. She too commands dragons, not to mention Daemon has experience with battle”.

Aegon's expression darkened at the reminder, his jaw clenched with barely contained fury. "Let her bring her dragons," he retorted sharply. "We will meet them with fire and blood."

Your Grace, if you engage in battle with Princess Rhaenyra's dragons, it could lead to unimaginable devastation for both sides." warned Maester Orwyle.

"We must consider all possible outcomes, Your Grace. The sight of dragons locked in combat above the Blackwater Bay would strike fear into the hearts of our people. It could plunge the realm into chaos” said Tyland nodding in agreement; his gaze steady as he met the King's furious stare.

Aegon's fists clenched at his sides, for a long moment, the king stood in silence, his mind a tempest of conflicting emotions. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he relented, his voice weary yet resolute.

“Very well, of course there are other ways to force Rhaenyra’s hand” said Aegon as he looked over at Aemond.

“Your Grace?” asked Otto curiously.

“Vaelys-I want a child in her belly. Rhaenyra might think twice when we also have her grandchild as a hostage” snarled Aegon.

“These things take time Your Grace” replied Aemond, tying to keep his anger in check. The child that Aegon spoke so callously of would not just be Vaelys’ child but his too.

“Don’t fill me with falsehoods I know that you haven’t touched her since your wedding night” snarked Aegon.

“I will not force myself-“

“-You will do your duty brother and fuck your wife until she’s swollen with your child, or else I will take over and I won’t give two shits whether she wants it or not” demanded Aegon.

“Yes, Your Grace” muttered Aemond through gritted teeth.

“Good-now get out” snapped Aegon as he reached for a cup of wine.

Aemond bowed respectfully and then left the council chambers.

He stormed through the corridors of the Red Keep, not wanting to speak too anyone and he had barely closed the door to his own chambers before he punched the wall.

“FUCK!!” exclaimed Aemond as the pain quickly lanced through his hand.

Gods he was angry. He needed to get out of there before he did something stupid, like go back to the council chambers and beat the living shit out of his brother.

Ignoring the pain in his hand, Aemond quickly donned his riding leathers and went to Vhagar. A few hours away from it all is exactly what he needed.

As Vaelys and Helaena lingered in the serene ambiance of the garden, their peaceful interlude was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Ser Arryk.

"Princess Vaelys," he addressed her with a respectful nod, "The King has requested your presence in his chambers immediately."

Vaelys' heart skipped a beat at the unexpected summons, her mind racing with questions as to what could be so urgent. She exchanged a quick glance with Helaena, who offered her a reassuring smile, before turning her attention back to Ser Arryk.

“Where is Aemond?” asked Vaelys.

“Your husband has gone out with his dragon” replied Arryk.

"I guess we shouldn’t keep the King waiting then" replied Vaelys, her voice steady despite the flutter of apprehension in her chest.

With a nod of acknowledgement, Ser Arryk gestured for her to follow, and Vaelys fell into step beside him, her thoughts swirling with curiosity and concern. As they made their way back inside the castle, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over her.

Vaelys approached the door to King Aegon's chambers with cautious steps, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The summons had come unexpectedly, and she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over her. As she reached out to grasp the ornate door handle, she took a deep breath to steady herself before gently pushing it open.

The room beyond was bathed in the warm glow of flickering torches, casting dancing shadows against the walls. Vaelys stepped inside, her senses alert as she scanned the room for any sign of the King.

Aegon was seated on a large chaise by the window, his expression unreadable as he regarded her with a steady gaze.

“Do you know why I’ve summoned you?”

“No, Your Grace” replied Vaelys.

“The Velaryon fleet has blocked the Gullet-preventing all travel and seaborn trade”.

“What’s that got to do with me?” asked Vaelys, watching cautiously as Aegon rose from his chaise and walked towards her.

She remembered standing at the painted table with her mother and her council as Lord Corlys had informed her of his success in the Step Stones.

His plan to seal the Gullet had come to fruition.

So her mother had decided to lay seige to Kings Landing to force the Greens to surrender.

“It seems we’ve underestimated your worth as a hostage, so maybe Rhaenyra needs reminding of what’s at stake” said Aegon smirking.

“How?” asked Vaelys.

“A babe” said Aegon.

“I-I’m not with child”.

“Not yet-but you soon will be-I’ve told my brother that he is too fuck you until you are with child. If not, then I will have you for myself and my brother will not stop me. I might even make him watch” said Aegon.

“Y-You wouldn’t” said Vaelys.

“I am the King-If I want you, I will have you-“ whispered Aegon as he reached forward and began toying with a strand of hair that had come loose from Vaelys’ braid.

“-Please, don’t do this” begged Vaelys.

“Why not?” asked Aegon cocking his head to the side.

“It is not proper” muttered Vaelys.

“Like I give a shit-“ snarked Aegon.

“It would be a dishonour”.

“To who-you? don’t make me laugh-you’re the daughter of a whore”

“I am the wife of your brother-“

“None of that matters-you are what I say you are” said Aegon.

“As are you” replied Vaelys.

Aegon paused for a moment, smirking as he looked her up and down.

“-Ser Arryk, escort my niece back to her chambers” said Aegon as he stepped away and sat down.

“Your Grace” muttered Arryk.

“A man who forces himself upon a woman is no man at all, and neither is the one who stands idle and allows such behaviour” said Vaelys as she stepped into the hallway.

“He is the King” replied Arryk.

“So that gives him the right to treat women as if they are nothing-you know what I don’t why I’m wasting my breath, you’ve made it perfectly clear where your loyalties lie”.

“Princess-“

“Not if-but when my mother takes back the Iron Throne, you will die for your treachery” snapped Vaelys.

Arryk remained silent after that, his head hung low as he escorted her to her chambers.

It was almost dusk when he returned to the Red Keep, sometimes his old girl could be difficult to rouse but today she’d been more than ready to take to the sky.

In the weeks since their wedding, Aemond and Vaelys had developed some form of friendship, they dined together most nights, spent time in the gardens and spoke often of historical facts or whatever they’d done during the day.

As he arrived in his chambers he was greeted by a hot bath.

“I figured you’d want to bathe; the air seemed a little cool today” said Vaelys.

“Hmm” muttered Aemond as he began pulling of his riding leathers.

“I’ll go into the lounge-“

“No. Stay. There’s something I need to tell you” said Aemond.

 “Ok” replied Vaelys looking away until Aemond stepped into the bath and lowered himself into the hot water.

Aemond leaned against the edge of the bath and closed his eye. The hot water soothing his aching muscles. He almost forgot Vaelys was there until she cleared her throat.

“You said you had something to tell me”.

 “I’ve spent the last few hours practising this conversation and there’s no easy way to say this but-“

“For the love of all that is holy, just spit it out will you” snapped Vaelys.

“The King wants me to put a child in you” mumbled Aemond.

“I know-“ replied Vaelys.

“Y-You do?”

“Aegon summoned me to his chambers earlier, he said that he wants you to get me with child-if you don’t then he will have me for himself and he would make you watch“ muttered Vaelys.

“Did he touch you?” asked Aemond.

“No-he just threatened too” muttered Vaelys.

“I will not let him touch you. I give you my word” Aemond.

“He is your King. You can’t disobey him”  said Vaelys.

“I’ll think of something”  replied Aemond.

“You won’t always be here to protect me Aemond”.

“Vaelys-“ whispered Aemond as he began to look for a towel.

“Here, I placed it near the fire so it would be warm for you” said Vaelys as she handed him a warm towel.

“Who taught you that?” asked Aemond.

“My mother. Sometimes we’d go on family dragon rides and sometimes the skies around Dragonstone would be a little chilly, so she would always set towels in front of the fire to warm us up after we’d washed away the smell of dragon” said Vaelys sadly her heart clenching at the thought of Archonei.

“Sounds-nice” muttered Aemond.

Vaelys nodded slightly and then turned around to give Aemond some privacy as he dried himself and pulled on a pair of loose breeches.

“You can turn around now” said Aemond as he sat on the bed.

After a few moments of awkward silence Vaelys begins undressing.

“What are you doing?” asked Aemond.

“My duty” replied Vaelys.

“V-Vaelys. Wait” urged Aemond.

“You may have killed Archonei and brought me here, but I would rather be with you and carry your child. Than have your brothers child after he forces himself on me” exclaimed Vaelys.

“But-” muttered Aemond.

“This is MY choice and I choose you valzȳrys” said Vaelys as she began fiddling with the laces on her shift (husband).

“-ābrazȳrys” rasped Aemond (Wife).

“Let us pretend there is no war-that the house of the dragon is united, let this be for us. Now there’s no one watching” said Vaelys as she untied her shift and pulled it from her body.

“A-Are you sure?” asked Aemond.

“Your seriously asking me that as I stand in front of you as naked as my name day”.

“Just making sure” replied Aemond as he reached out and took Vaelys’ hand guiding her to the bed.

“Now, show me what it feels like to enjoy the touch of my husband”.

Vaelys had lost most of her senses the moment Aemond had pressed her onto the bed and knelt down between her open legs.

When he said he wanted to kiss her there, she never imagined this.

Vaelys’ eyes rolled into the back of her head as Aemond’s tongue swept across her slick wet folds.

Vaelys bit the back of her hand to keep herself from screaming as Aemond began using his long fingers to tease her entrance.

“Ivestragī issa rȳbagon ao” growls Aemond (Let me hear you).

 “A-Aemond. Oh god. Please” moaned Vaelys.

Aemond pressed two fingers inside Vaelys, moving them against a spot that made her entire body shake.

“I know your almost there. Let it happen my sweet. Come for me” whispered Aemond.

Vaelys arched her back and let out a scream as her pleasure erupted.

Aemond crawled up Vaelys’ body, placing gentle kisses on her skin as he moved higher and higher.

Vaelys blushed furiously when she saw that Aemond’s chin was shining with her slick.

“Calm yourself my little dragon” murmured Aemond.

“I-I’ve never-” mumbled Vaelys.

 “Was that your first peak?” asked Aemond.

 Vaelys blushed and nodded. Aemond smiled as he leaned forward and slowly ran his tongue along Vaelys’ bottom lip.

Vaelys jumped when she felt Aemond’s cock against her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go slow” whispered Aemond as he reached down and took hold of his hard cock rubbing it along Vaelys’ wet folds.

“Ok. I’m ready” replied Vaelys, her heart pounding. Aemond thrusts his hips forward and the entire hard length of him is buried inside Vaelys.

“Oh” gasped Vaelys. She had expected to feel pain, but this was something else entirely.

Aemond rolls his hips gently at first, allowing Vaelys the time to adjust to the feeling of his cock moving back and forth inside her, but when his wife begins issuing quiet yet insistent pleas of 'harder and faster' Aemond loses it and begins fucking Vaelys into the mattress.

Their hips pound together as Aemond thrusts hard and fast, his movements brutal and precise.

“Fuck” moans Aemond his cock throbbing with need.

“A-Aemond”

“What is it you desire, Princess?” asked Aemond, his thrusts becoming somewhat stuttered and messy, his singular eye screwed shut, he ready to burst at any moment. His silver hair stuck to his forehead, from the exertion of fucking his wife.

“You-Aemond-” gasped Vaelys. Aemond grinned, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, watching her body jerk with each movement of his hips.

He could feel her cunny fluttering around him, so he reached down to apply pressure to her pearl.

Vaelys let out a chocked moan as she felt is finger swirling around her, she buried one hand into his long silver hair and the other grasped his arm so tight her knuckles had turned white.

Aemond pulls back slightly to watch with excitement as his wife peaks again around his length.

With a choked, staggered moan of his own, Aemond grips her so tightly, she would surely bruise, as he spills himself inside her hot, wet cunny. Filling her with rope after rope of his seed, thrusting shallowly to ensure it was as deep inside her as possible.

Aemond collapsed on top of Vaelys, his face buried in her neck.

After he’d managed to catch his breath, Aemond slowly pulled his softened cock from his wife and laid down next to her, without thinking he enveloped her in his arms.

Vaelys felt warm and utterly exhausted. She shifted to look up at her husband, watching as his eye opened to look down at her.

“A-Are you ok?” asked Aemond.

“I’m ok” whispered Vaelys.

“Hmm” rasped Aemond as he leaned closer and pressed his mouth to hers.

“Thank you”

“For what?” asked Aemond.

“The wedding night, you were kind to me” uttered Vaelys.

“I am your husband it’s-“ stuttered Aemond as Vaelys leaned forward and seized his mouth in a kiss, her tongue slowly moving against his.

“Aemond” breathed Vaelys her fingers moving through the sparse hairs that graced his chest.

“Give me a few minutes ñuha dōna and I’ll be ready to have you again” (My sweet)

Aemond had a ravenous appetite that night, he kissed, licked, and fucked her well into the hours of the night.

Never fully satisfied until he’d filled her with his seed another three times.

Aemond was absolutely insatiable, even the next morning he had reached for Vaelys and had her again.

He muttered nonsensically as he thrust his hard cock into her, begging, and muttering filthy things in high Valyrian.

Afterwards, Aemond had wrapped his arms around Vaelys and held her close.

At some point Vaelys had managed to fall back to sleep, and she eventually awoke some hours later to find Aemond sitting at the table, eating his dinner.

“You should have woke me” muttered Vaelys as she kissed Aemond on the cheek.

“I didn’t want to disturb you” replied Aemond.

“I’m surprised Ser Criston hasn’t come banging on the door, as I assume you’ve missed your morning training session”.

“Missing one training session won’t hurt, besides I had other things to occupy my time” quipped Aemond.

“Glad to hear it” said Vaelys.

“Although I will be stuck in council meetings all day-“ muttered Aemond.

“I-I think I’ll stay in our chambers today-Helaena was going on about millipedes yesterday and I’d rather not be in the company of such-creatures” said Vaelys shuddering.

“Are you afraid of bugs?” asked Aemond trying to stifle a smile.

“T-They have their place in the world-just not anywhere near me” said Vaelys.

“Well, it’s a good job that I had some new books brought from the library-so you may read to your hearts content” replied Aemond.

“Thank you” replied Vaelys as she took a sip of water.

True to his word, Aemond was gone all day.

But Vaelys contented herself with sitting on the balcony and reading through the books that Aemond had brought.

As the sun began to set, the maids had delivered supper and Aemond still hadn’t returned.

Vaelys was about to ask the guard on duty if he knew when Aemond would be back when the door to her chambers opened, and Ser Arryk walked in.

“If your King has the gall to summon me again-tell him to go fuck himself” snapped Vaelys.

“I swore to ward the Queen, with all my strength and give my blood for hers. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I will guard her secrets, obey her commands, ride at her side, and defend her name and honour”.

“Ser Erryk?” questioned Vaelys.

The memory of the day her mother had been crowned by her father, the crown of Viserys reaching Dragonstone by the hand of Ser Erryk.

"Your father sent me. We must leave now” said Erryk gesturing for her to follow.

“But-Aemond-” said Vaelys.

“This is your only chance Princess-Come we must go” said Erryk.

“The guard outside-”

“As far as anyone knows I’m Arryk and I’m escorting you to the Tower of the Hand” said Erryk.

"I could write Aemond a note" said Vaelys, looking around the chambers for ink and parchment.

"Princess-we must go" urged Erryk.

There was a part of Vaelys that didn’t want to leave Aemond-but she longed for her mother’s embrace, she missed her father and his lessons with the blade, she wished to hear the laughter of her brothers and sisters again, and she knew that she would never get another chance at this again, so after taking a deep breath Vaelys followed Erryk.

Ser Erryk's heart raced as he led Princess Vaelys through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep. His armour clinked softly with each step, the weight of his mission pressing upon him like an invisible burden.

At the behest of her father, Daemon, he was to help Vaelys escape the clutches of her forced marriage to Aemond Targaryen.

The princess moved swiftly, her eyes wide with fear yet filled with determination. Erryk admired her bravery, even in the face of such danger. They reached the gate, their only barrier to freedom looming ahead.

With a silent prayer to the Seven, Erryk pushed open the heavy door, ready to usher Vaelys into the night and back to the safety of Dragonstone.

But their hopes were shattered as the gate swung open, revealing Aemond standing before them, his features twisted in a mix of fury and anguish.

Erryk's hand instinctively went to his sword, but before he could draw it, Aemond was upon him.

"Aemond, no" pleaded Vaelys, her voice trembling with desperation. But Aemond paid her no heed as he engaged Erryk in combat.

Steel clashed against steel, echoing through the courtyard as Erryk and Aemond fought with all their might.

Despite his skill, Erryk found himself outmatched by the rage-fueled attacks of the Targaryen prince.

With a final, brutal strike, Aemond delivered a fatal blow, and Erryk fell to the ground, his lifeblood staining the stone beneath him.

Vaelys screamed in horror as she rushed to Erryk's side, but Aemond seized her roughly, tearing her away from the fallen knight.

"No, Aemond, please," cried Vaelys, tears streaming down her face.

But Aemond's grip only tightened as he dragged her back towards the Red Keep.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond #aemond smut #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #hotd smut #hotd #aegon ii targaryen #arryk cargyll #erryk cargyll #helaena targaryen

[pennyellee]

CHAPTER III - ambience

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of God, sharp objects, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of death, overwhelming, violence, threats, drowning, gunshots

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 6,9K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II GAME OF GO CHAPTER IV

Ambience (n.) the strong urge to avoid someone or something

Her father was an intimidating man, or at least he wanted to be perceived as one. As a triad leader, he had a reputation to uphold. He needed to be feared. Despite being his firstborn, she was still a mere woman in his eyes.

There was a time when Y/N believed her father saw her to be more than just a woman. He had softened when her younger brother was born after she turned fifteen. Her brother’s name was Wang Bó Chéng, a name that carried the promise of great success. How poetic. 

According to the original plan, she would marry Yamamoto’s son, and her brother would inherit their father’s empire once he retired or passed away. However, the young kingpin had other plans. Yoongi would patiently wait for her father to make a mistake.

If you were to ask Y/N if she was loyal to her father, she would answer yes. If you were to ask her if she loved her father, she would say she loved him like she loved God — an entity she believed in but couldn’t see. At other times, this would be a devoted proclamation, but in her current situation, it was heartbreaking. 

The young leader believed God had led her down this path to him, and she strongly opposed His decision. Her faith was slowly fading, and all she could hear were the echoing cries in her head, tears of sorrow like a Lacrimosa.

“Tomorrow morning, we leave for Chosen. We’ll meet your father there,” said Yoongi when he returned to the garden. She had heard about the famous Chosen Hotel; there was no need for further explanation. The luxurious hotel served as a cover for his less legal activities.

“Can’t he come here?” She hugged herself, seeking more comfort. Yoongi approached her but didn’t take his previous seat.

“I don’t trust him enough to invite him to our home, sweetling,” he honestly admitted. This was his home, not headquarters. He had brought her to his home as his future wife, not a prisoner.

“What did he say?” she asked softly. She knew her father must be fuming, despite Yoongi’s attempts to fool him.

“He wants to see you. He wasn’t pleased that I proposed without his presence. He wanted to marry you off elsewhere—” he scoffed.

“—I had to persuade him that an alliance with our clan would be a better decision,” he spoke so openly. However, she remained guarded, not letting him deceive her.

“Apart from that, I’m hún dàn for halting his plans for you.” She couldn’t help but laugh. Her father could be quite amusing when he wasn’t behaving aggressively towards them. He had lighter sides and moments when she even smiled for him. All this was enough for her to cloud all the bad memories. ’Always remember the good ones’ her mother used to say, ’it will keep you sane’.

“I have work to do. Can I trust you enough to leave you in the garden?” he asked, his voice filled with seriousness. Can he? Let’s see. She simply nodded, and he stepped closer to her once again. He bowed down and planted a kiss on her hair, an endearing act of affection perhaps.

“Be good for me,” he said softly to her hair before leaving her alone in the garden. She wasn’t foolish enough to run immediately, even though the desire to do so burned within her.

An hour. That’s how long she waited, strolling the garden until she spotted a back door. Carefully, she requested a warmer blanket from a naive girl who had no inkling of her plans. She slipped the ring off her finger and dashed to the back door, slamming it open. She couldn’t risk running through the house to the front; that would be far too reckless.

As she stepped outside, she was surprised to find herself on a street. A few meters away stood a smaller hanok, next to it another, and another, forming what seemed to be a small village.

There was no turning back now. Guided by her heart rather than her brain, she chose to go left, as anyone would when faced with indecision, unknowingly altering her destiny once again.

The familiar sensation of fear and adrenaline flooded her veins as she desperately tried to find a way out of the maze. She dared not look back as she frantically searched for an escape route. So far, Y/N didn’t see anyone, and the sky was setting down. The sky was growing darker and darker every second, and there was no source of light anywhere apart from the homes she was surrounded by. Panic set in as she realized she was running out of time. Finally, she noticed a small opening in the wall and quickly squeezed through it, just as she heard someone call out her name. He knew. She knew she had to act swiftly.

She ran as fast as she could, her heart pounding in her chest. It was eerily quiet, too quiet even, only the sound of her heartbeat echoing in her ears. Y/N needed to find a place to hide and gather her thoughts.

Once again, she instinctively chose to go left, down the dark street. Doubts plagued her mind. Was this escape merely a trap? Did he already anticipate that she would try to flee? Her dress clung to her skin, just as it had when she crossed the borders a few days ago.

She stopped in some kind of courtyard, a little park perhaps, to catch her breath. Suddenly, she can hear footsteps and echoing laughter. Confused, she hesitated, unsure whether to stay or run.

The first one to spot her, from the couple walking in her direction, was the young girl that hitched and stammered, “Seokjin?” Her plea was barely audible. The doctor looked at his companion in confusion before following her gaze, locking eyes with Y/N. The Chinese girl’s heart sank as Seokjin sighed.

“I’ll be civil and will give you a minute before I have someone report your location,” he said, his tone deadly serious. Without hesitation, she ran as fast as she could.

“Aish—she is only going to end up broken to the core…” She heard his words like she would be still standing there, but she resolved in her mind that it wouldn’t happen today.

Another crack in the wall assured her that she might have a slight chance to flee unharmed. She skimmed through it, seeing no other hanoks, a smile and laughter of happiness escaping her lips.

The gunshot that landed just less than a meter away from her petite form put her joy on hold immediately. It couldn’t be. She had come so far in that vast maze of hanoks. The forest in front of her seemed inviting, but she knew that taking another step would provoke another bullet.

Y/N didn’t know how long it took her to get away nor how long it was till he got to know she vanished. It felt like minutes, but it might have been way more — the village was too large. He had brought her here because it was more difficult to escape. Now, she finally understood.

Y/N has to decide now. Would she run for her life, or surrender and avoid the fatal bullets that could strike her from behind? “God, I want to live, I promise—” whispered she. Another gunshot echoed, this one landing even closer. She screamed.

“Be careful, goddamn!” she heard someone yell in Korean. Was this her chance to escape? There was no time to decide. Her legs are already moving.

“Someone get her before she will get the bullets in!” Another yell. This one sounded frustrated, tired even.

“I can make it.” She declared, manifesting her freedom one more time. “I can.” Determined to succeed, blinded by the darkness, she didn’t hear or see another man approaching her running figure, until he tackled her to the ground.

“You’re one stubborn woman.” A voice she had heard before but couldn’t quite place.

“No!” she screamed, desperately kicking and punching the man that was now dragging her back to her limbo.

“Behave nicely, and just maybe he won’t slaughter anyone,” he warned her. ’Will he go on a killing spree?’ She wondered. ‘Will lives be lost because of her selfish desire for freedom?’ Only God knows if she will get her answers.

“Very kind of you to join me for dinner, Jagiya,” said the devil, his voice dripping with cruel and cold undertones of aggressive sarcasm. Y/N was forcefully thrown into a chair in the open room, overlooking the garden she had been occupying when she attempted to escape. 

There was an opening in a wall to enter the koi pond on which this room was atop. The lights were dim, but she could see his well-drawn face. The scar makes him beyond intimidating. 

She noticed a young maid kneeling next to the opening in the wall, her hands tied behind her back and tears streaming down her face, her mouth gagged with fabric. A pinch of anxiety and sadness stung her like a poisonous bee. This was not what she wanted. She whipped her head back to address the leader who never let his eyes leave her. Never again.

“Let her go,” Y/N venomously demanded. The leader smirked. “It wasn’t her fault—” she began.

“Oh, so she did not leave you alone, allowing you to fly away, my little dove,” he sang, his aura intensifying, causing her breathing to quicken and her heart to race.

“Deal with me,” said she. “Leave her out of this.” In her mind, she imagined grabbing the chopsticks laid out on the table for dinner and using them to wipe the grin off his face. But she could never bring herself to harm another person again. Even when it comes to him. A vulnerability within her.

“That’s not what I want to hear from you, pretty,” he replied. The young Kkangpae motioned his hand in command to the man standing next to the terrified girl. The man grabbed her and forced her into the koi pond. Y/N’s eyes reflected pure panic once she realized what is going to happen.

“Stop!” Y/N yelled as she tried to stand and rush towards them, but she was forcefully pushed back down into the chair.

“I’m waiting,” he taunted, clapping his hands together, instructing the man to submerge the poor girl in the water. The sound of raspy, wet gurgling sent chills down Y/N’s spine.

“Please stop!” she begged him. The girl struggled, kicking, and splashing, desperately fighting for her life. But the leader maintained an indifferent gaze, caring little for the girl’s fate. She let his fiancée escape.

“I don’t know what you want to hear!” she cried out. Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears. “Please let her go!” But he remained unmoved, patiently waiting for her to realise. She had to think quickly, or the young girl would die.

“Say it,” he urged, trying to coax the words out of her. Her eyes darted across his face, searching for a solution. And then it hit her. Há dún.

“I’m sorry…” she choked out, her voice trembling. Having his hands clasped together, pressed against his mouth, he smiled. He extended his hand, and the man pulled the girl out of the water just in the nick of time. Not a minute, seconds and she would have drowned. Y/N watched as the girl coughed and whispered her apologies.

“Thank God.” She prayed. What if she had her killed? The thought of that breach in her path terrified her.

“Next time, think twice—” For the first time, she felt enormous fear looking into his eyes. “—I won’t be so merciful.”

“You’re so lucky we’re not married, yet. Otherwise, I would have to discipline you more severely,” he spat at her sobbing figure. Y/N didn’t want other innocent people to be pulled into her mess. She hugged herself, shivering from the cold wind blowing through the open room and the water nearby.

The young leader sighed and pulled out a pack of Golden Bat cigarettes from his pocket alongside the velvet box that was hiding a ring she abandoned. Setting it in front of her with a loud thud that made her flinch. He gestured for her to take it as he lit his cigarette.

“If you take it off —” said he exhaling a cloud of smoke into the night air, “I’ll make sure you won’t be able to do so ever again.” His tone was cold, his gaze determined, piercing into her soul. He desperately wished to win her heart differently, but his methods had brought them to this point.

“So, where did you want to go exactly? To see your Sire? The cousin who betrayed you? Or are you still dreaming of sailing to the new world?” He mockingly mused aloud. She remained silent, allowing her tears to dry on her face.

“Your father is on his way to Seoul to negotiate with me. Now, I won’t let you go, and, as a matter of fact, I don’t mind putting a bullet right in between your daddy’s eyes.” Yoongi declared and Y/N stared at him with terror in her eyes. She knew very well what would happen to her family if her father was deceased. Slaves to whatever clan they would fall under. Her father has too many enemies around the whole of Asia.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Y/N won’t believe his words easily, desperately hoping he was bluffing, trying to get her to cooperate.

“Oh, I would. So, I suggest you’ll behave,” he said through gritted teeth. “That’s the only rule you must follow Y/N. Obey or face the consequences, or next time it could be your little sister in the pond.” He took a drag from his cigarette, attempting to calm himself down. Y/N swallowed hard and shook her head, signaling her disagreement.

“Now, be a good girl and put the ring back on.”

Morning came sooner than she wished for. Her ears were concentrating on the sounds outside of the room that was providing her momentary salvation. He isn’t to be seen, at least not yet. Y/N slowly sat in the bed, pushing the thick blanket away. The room feels cold, the fire has gone out sometime in the middle of the night.

“Good morning, Buin.” Said new voice. Y/N fixated her eyes on a maid she had never seen before. ‘Has he killed the girl after all?’ She was worried. Who wouldn’t be. This maid seemed to be older, more mature.

“Is the girl alright?” Y/N didn’t think twice to ask. The maid ignored her questions, opening the window on her left side.

“Sajangnim is requesting you to have breakfast with him.” Said the maid, with a monotonous voice.

“Is the girl alright?” she asked again, slowly and more carefully. The maid stopped whatever she was doing.

“Yes, Min Buin,” said the maid. It got Y/N to see straight again. However, she couldn’t pardon her entitlement.

“I’m not Min as of yet.” She said, more intimidatingly than she wanted. The Chinese woman wants nothing else but other people to not fear her. She ain’t her father, or Yoongi. Such a soft name for such a cold calculating man.

“Sajangnim ordered us to call you either Missus Min or Buin—”

“There is no need to call me either, Y/N it is or if you insist, I’m still Wang.” Y/N responded to their statement that her abductor ridiculously requested. She made a mental note to make herself clear to him about such matters.

“I understand, Buin.” No, she doesn’t, thought Y/N. She will continue to blindly listen to that calculating bastard that is probably sipping coffee right now, soaping his hands for her.

 “Today is very cold outside, I suggest you pick more warm clothing, Buin.” The maid addressed her again. The end of October is too close. If she will be lucky, Y/N shall be a free woman by next year. She just needs to whip a plan, without hurting anyone. There is still a very little, tiny hope inside her.

Y/N spends a minute recalling his words about this place. That it is his home, she knew. But that the whole hanok maze she ran through yesterday is in fact home for the closest and highest members of his clan, she didn’t realise. Y/N’s family lived far away from other members of the clan. Her father wished so. In case of treason or attack, they would be safe, as no one, not a single soul knew where exactly Wang’s family home is. Y/N doesn’t presume that Min thinks only of himself and his greater good. He might be selfish himself but aren’t we all. Wang Zimò was the most selfish man she ever knew. Unfortunately for her, she inherited this selfishness and couldn’t stop thinking whether she should attempt to run so soon.

“Please don’t try to escape Buin—” The maid was interrupted by another one entering the room.

“Buin, Sajangnim sent me for you.” The elder woman said. Y/N dusted her now clothed form and took a deep breath.

“Very well.” Said Y/N and took a first step outside the room.

It was still very early in the morning and all she wanted to do was hide under blankets and never leave. That wasn’t an option for her, not anymore. She needs to breathe this anxiety out before she sits by the table with him again.

It must be really cold that they won’t eat outside, nor in the open outside room on the koi pond. She was glad for the change of surroundings as seeing the place where the girl almost died because of her, could only benefit him in breaking her fighting spirit.

“Well, well, look who decided to join us!” She heard Seokjin’s cheery voice, and she was not even in the room yet. Y/N swayed her hips, walking to the low chair that was left for her to sit in. Her long black qipao dress with golden details is caressing the contours of her form.

“Sweetling, you gave my lady quite a scare yesterday.” Said the doctor, sipping on his cup of coffee. Y/N never tasted coffee. Her father was strongly opposed to the foreign beverage and strongly preferred tea. ‘We’re Chinese’ he was beating his chest, proudly. And now she is with the Korean enemy that has been fighting Japan's Yakuza rule for years now. Perhaps, her little being will bring peace to the clans after all.

“You angered this fella really good.” He continued.

“Send my apologies to your lady, it wasn’t my intention to startle anyone.” She said softly while sitting down diagonally from her so-called husband to be.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked her, voice low, filled with a hint of concern.

“Did you?” her tone capturing her sass. She refused to let him off the hook easily, Y/N has a full right to be angry at him for dragging the poor girl into this mess. Y/N will take it with the pain if she has to, but no one should suffer at her cost.

“I would sleep better if you were next to me.” Backfire, his words catching her off guard. Y/N did not expect him to be so open in the company of another person.

“I’m not your wife,” her voice steady but laced with a hint of defiance.

“But you will be,” he said firmly.

Her brow furrowing as if deep in thought. “Will I—?” She mused, drawing out the uncertainty. “It comes to my knowledge that it ends with ‘I do—’”

“If I have to hold everyone at gunpoint for you to say those words, I will.”

Y/N’s gaze pierced through him, a mix of frustration. “So romantic,” she finally uttered, her words dripping with sarcasm.

“Well, aren’t you a lovely couple, you two.” Seokjin chimed in, sarcastically.

Y/N rolled her eyes, drinking her tea. “We have to depart very soon, so eat, dove.” Yoongi said, making her roll her eyes yet again. However, as she could practically hear her stomach, after skipping dinner — having no appetite — she was indeed happy to eat.

Y/N felt tears welling up inside as she sat down in the Cadillac next to him. A scarf tied tightly around her eyes prevented her from seeing the world outside his secluded little kingdom.

“I’ll take it off in a minute, don’t worry,” he reassured her. But what use was it to take it off for only a minute? Wouldn’t she be able to see the rest of the journey? Y/N tried to make sense of his intentions, and her understanding came when he removed the scarf.

Darkness surrounded her as the car engine roared and echoed loudly through the underground tunnels. She couldn’t see much, but she knew they had already made at least three turns, left and right, navigating yet another maze. Her mind raced, trying to comprehend the nature of the place he called home. As if reading her mind, he provided answers to her unspoken questions.

“We cannot live right under the enemy’s noses. Nobody knows how to get here or where this place is,” he explained. She understood why it is so, her own family home was well hidden – but not unreachable.

“I was in a forest once I got out of the village…I thought we were—” she said, deliberating out loud.

“You’re a smart woman, my love, but that’s not quite true, —” said he and even in the dark, she could see him smirk. “—least, partially,” he added.

“There are several mountains around Seoul — under one of which we are now, but I won’t disclose the exact location,” he revealed. Y/N’s thoughts began to piece together, desperately trying to determine their whereabouts. And then it hit her.

“No…” she uttered, quietly, realizing that if her deduction was correct, she would never be able to escape unless she climbed high walls or discovered the secret underground exit. Yoongi laughed, fully aware of her epiphany.

“Yes,” he confirmed simply.

They were in a hidden valley, nestled within the mountains, providing sanctuary for him and his family. “I hope this puts a halt to the master escape plan you were for sure cooking up,” he remarked with a touch of sarcasm.

‘Motherfucker’ she thought to herself. Even if she had decided to run to the forest that day, she would have only ended up at a dead end instead of finding freedom. A tear escaped her eye right when the car emerged from the tunnel reaching its surface, the light outside shining through the front glass. Y/N had no idea how far they were from Seoul or Incheon. For the first time in forever, she wished she wouldn’t run from Shenyang.

“Is there anything I should know about your father before we arrive?” Yoongi spoke after a minute of tense silence.

“I don’t think there is something you don’t already know,” she replied.

“I know what others may know but is there something specific you know as his daughter?” he rephrased his question, seeking a more coherent answer from her.

“Don’t be fooled,” said Y/N simply, only seconds before the buildings of the city came into view. The young leader furrowed his brows at her statement but quickly understood its significance.

This ornate architecture stood as a symbol of luxury and sophistication in a changing world. The intricately carved pillars and balconies, the glistening windows reflecting the golden rays of the last of autumn sun. Y/N marveled at the grandeur of the scene before her.

“I want to speak to him alone first. I shall call for you once we’re done,” the young leader was keeping his hand on the small of her back once they arrived at the reception of the Chosen Hotel that previously belonged to the Japanese Yakuza. It was only later after the First War that the ownership shifted to Mins.

The polished marble floors, the grand chandeliers illuminating the lobby, and the sound of footsteps echoing through the vast space. Y/N heard about this famous hotel and its westernised luxurious style that combined several cultures around the world. It wasn’t so different from the hanok he resided in, but his house felt more like a home than this. She could hate him all she wants; this she can’t deny. Despite her hatred for him, she couldn’t deny the enchantment his home evoked, especially with the surrounding nature.

Y/N nodded in response to his words. There was no point in starting another fight. He led her to another part of the hotel to wait. Just as she thought she would have a chance to explore and search for a breach in his security, her plotting came to an end when she saw a familiar figure sitting in what appeared to be a sunroom.

“Mā…” Y/N said softly, tears welling in her eyes once her vision settled on her.

“Be good,” Yoongi whispered in her ear and left them alone. She did not take another second standing there and eagerly ran to hug her mother.

“Oh mā,” she cried in her embrace, listening to her comforting heartbeat. 

“What were you thinking, my child?” Y/N’s mother said softly, lovingly caressing her hair.

“Mā, I didn’t know it would end up this way, I promise. I thought… I thought—” she stammered.

“I know my child. I know,” her mother reassured, understanding her feelings all too well. “You have to stand even stronger now.” After they sat down, her mother wiped away her tears.

“You are not marrying the prince any more. You’re marrying the king.” Any remaining hope Y/N had that her father might not agree to Yoongi’s proposition and refuse the marriage dissipated. She knew her fate was sealed, and she wondered if death was her only means of redemption and freedom.

“He is intimidating but so charming at the same time,” her mother remarked after a moment, giving Y/N time to process the harsh truth while she was touching the white smooth pearl necklace that hung around her neck.

“He could be a good husband,” she continued with the words Y/N never wanted to hear from her.

“Mā, he abducted me—” Y/N tried to argue. She couldn’t believe her mother’s approval.

“Weren’t you running away anyway, my dear?” the older female interjected.

“Is Father going to punish Chan-yeol and Daiyu, Mā?” she pleaded for answers. All of this was spinning in Y/N’s mind heavily. She couldn’t understand why they would betray her father and give her away to the enemy.

“He can’t —” her mother began, “Chan-yeol was never loyal to our triad, to begin with.” Her mother confirmed her fears, making her realise that seeking solace with them was a mistake that had unintended consequences.

“What about the deal with Tokyo? Won’t you be in danger, Mā?” She wasn’t curious, Y/N’s worry for her family was genuine.

“I don’t know much, darling, you know your father,” her mother replied, gently caressing her cheek.

“But as it comes to my understanding, leader Min has an offering for your father that may solve this issue.” Her mother picked up a cup of freshly brewed coffee, taking a careful sip.

“Ugh, this tastes even more disgusting than I remember,” she exclaimed, prompting genuine laughter from Y/N.

“I’m happy to see you laugh,” said a voice coming from the entrance to the sunroom. “Sir?” Said Y/N standing up, not sure how to address the man speaking to her.

“Park Jimin—” The man introduced himself to her and her mother politely. “I believe we have already met when we arrived, Mr Park.” Her mother said, smiling softly.

“Yes, indeed,” he replied, returning her smile. It seems that Jimin runs this hotel, as she discovered in their small talk before, he said words Y/N wished he wouldn’t.

“I shall escort you to our leader,” he said, smiling softly at her with a tinge of pity. Y/N wasn’t ready to see her father yet nor Yoongi. She could feel a knot forming in her stomach. Reluctantly, she hugged her mother tightly, not wanting to let her go.

“He is different, my child. You are no longer a princess-to-be; he shall make you his queen.” She whispered in her ear to eliminate the chance that Jimin would hear her. The older woman gazed into her daughter’s eyes one more time and said quietly.

“Be a queen.”

Polished hardwood floors gleamed under the soft glow of the sun, casting a warm and inviting ambience. The air was filled with a faint aroma of cigarettes and hard liquor. A traditional screen, painted with scenes from nature, stood proudly against one wall. Soft rays of sunlight filtered through traditional hanji paper windows, casting gentle patterns on the room’s surfaces deep within the hotel. Y/N didn’t know how long they had been in the hotel, but it must have been right before lunchtime. The inhabitants of this living room were not a company she would voluntarily choose to be in.

Her father was seated with his back facing her, and on the other low cushion sofa, the young leader who just outsmarted the enemy. She could smell the cigarettes more intensively as she stepped closer. Yoongi smiled at her for a second, and once he saw Wang’s attention turn back to him again, he smirked.

“Y/N,” he said softly, encouraging her to sit with him. She needed a nudge from Jimin to make the steps toward him, sitting right next to him and facing her father. She stared directly into his eyes as the older male tried to read her and assess her demeanour.

“Who helped you?” her father broke into the silence. Y/N shook her head, smiling softly out of despair.

“Is this what you seek to know?” she replied with a tone he couldn’t recognise. Of course, she was the most rebellious child he had fathered, but he couldn’t overlook the change in her.

“Oh, I apologise. Are you alright my dear child?” he said mockingly, touching his heart. He did care about her, however he had never shown her the kind of love, to make her stronger. Or at least, that was Wang Zimò’s narrative of his truth.

The young leader carefully watched their interaction, sipping on his drink. “How long did you know?” her father asked her yet another ridiculous and ambiguous question.

“Know what exactly? I have no idea what you have in your mind,” she replied stoically, falling into her habit of speaking to her father this way. There was no use to argue with him.

“Are you playing stupid to protect someone?” said her father, smashing his drink to the conference table that divided them.

“She did not know, sir,” said a third party in the room, standing diagonally from her father. Kai. Her cousin. She did not expect him to be here.

“So, your mother did not reveal this wicked plan to her,” He spat out. ’Auntie?’ she thought in her head.

“What are you talking about?!” she raised her voice, an octave higher, drawing attention to her question. Her father laughed and scoffed in disbelief.

“My dear sister seemed to plot behind my back to marry you off to this bastard.” Yoongi only rolled his eyes at the insult thrown his way. In any other scenario, he would have his head. The young leader couldn’t do so. At least, not yet.

“I’m confused,” Y/N said, looking at all of them, searching for an explanation.

“She made a deal with him, and in exchange, you’re the peace offering to Min’s clan. She turned her back to Yamamoto’s without my knowledge,” her father explained angrily.

She would never marry that Tokyo boy. Her head started to spin. “Why wouldn’t she tell me…” she whispered, about to break down.

“If I knew she would abuse my love for her, I would never allow you to study and marry you off right away,” her father scoffed.

“You two were far too close to each other. Tell me the truth daughter, did you know?” he raised his voice at her, only forcing Y/N to shake her head yet again.

She’s not here anymore to explain it to her from point A to Z. Y/N was only instructed to run once her aunt rested her eyes for this lifetime. She only knew that with her aunt being gone, the arranged marriage to Yamamoto’s son would follow right away.

‘Don’t be fooled,’ echoed in her head, and she hoped that Yoongi remembered her words.

“Well—” her father clapped his hands, standing up “It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s said and done.” He moved closer to the fireplace, ready to approach his daughter.

‘Don’t be fooled,’ the voice in her head echoed again. “Are you alright, love?” Yoongi whispered to her. She shook her head in denial, trying to breathe but suddenly feeling suffocated.

“We’ll be on our way. The wedding ceremony will be held at our premises,” said her father, closing the distance between them and approaching her daughter.

“We’re leaving Y/N.” If she wasn’t confused enough, she was even more so now. Her mind was screaming inside.

‘Do not return to China’ her aunt’s words urged in her head. She knew it was a trap, if Yoongi would let her leave with her father, they would likely send soldiers the very next moment they would be out of the enemy’s territory. She warned her that her father wouldn’t give in without a fight. Perhaps, this is a trait she inherited too.

‘Don’t be fooled,’ she never prayed harder for him to realise what his father was doing. Damn the freedom, it could wait. By returning to China, she wouldn’t have a chance to escape again.

“We have not agreed on that. My fiancé will be staying with us,” the younger leader said coldly. Y/N looked at Kai with pleading eyes. Now or never. She stood up and ran towards Kai who expected her to pull such a stunt. Y/N never took it lying down.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get far, sadly. Her father grabbed her by her long hair in a tight grip, causing her to fall to her knees with a painful cry.

Y/N could hear the sound of guns being drawn too loudly. Panic overtook her body as everyone started screaming and aiming for each other’s heads. She was shredding inside. Y/N’s father didn’t release the grip on her hair, no matter how much she cried. The young leader wanted to murder him and paint the walls with his blood for touching her.

“Let her go, uncle,” she heard her cousin’s voice, which made her thoughts stop. Y/N could feel how her father tensed up when his kin put a gun to his head. She looked at Yoongi in confusion, tears in her eyes making her vision a little blurry.

“It was you! You fucking traitorous dog! You helped her!” her father screamed fanatically, his eyes wide and face red.

“You wretched little ungrateful rats!” her father screamed, tugging her closer to him. “I’m taking my daughter home, and once you come to your senses, we shall deal with the wedding.”

The leader didn’t lower his gun. “And I said, she is staying with me,” he stated, more determined than ever to keep his word. She could hear the music in her ears again as tears of sorrow streamed down her cheeks. Mourning herself.

‘Be a queen’ her mother’s words echoed in her head. She has to decide now.

‘God help me. I shall follow your testament if you help me one more time,’ she prayed. The shining silver blade lying on a stack of papers on the conference table caught her eye. The metal gleamed, reflecting the surrounding light. The blade, slim and graceful, tapered to a refined point.

‘Don’t be fooled.’

‘Be a queen.’

Voices screamed in her mind. She acted quickly, grabbing the sharp letter opener, and cutting her hair off right where her father’s hand was wrapped, holding them punishingly tightly, making contact with his knuckles.

Y/N felt her head freed from his grasp, and stood up quickly, stumbling into Yoongi’s awaiting form. A silence fell upon them all. Everyone stared with astonishment at the young mistress.

Wang Zimò was surprised too. Shocked even. He gazed at the black, soft hair that was still in his fist and slowly raised his eyes to his daughter and his enemy.

His daughter and his enemy.

“Is this your decision? You want to be a traitor?!” he said with venom in his words.

“I’m no traitor when my loyalty doesn’t lie with you anymore.” Y/N proclaimed, even though she knew it would only draw the young leader closer to her. He was indeed very proud of her at this moment — holding her with his free hand and covering her shaking body partially. Hearing her words, made him push her to his back even closer.

“Very well,” Wang Zimò seethed. He hated to lose, but he knew better than to start another fight right now. “I shall see you at the wedding, daughter,” he said coldly, letting her cut hair fall to the ground, and took the first steps towards the door.

“Kai let’s go. I shall deal with you at home.” He spat, not even looking back.

“You do not command me no more, uncle,” said Kai, standing his ground.

“What did you say?!” The elder Wang turned back to him.

“Mother’s dying wish was for me to stand with Y/N and Mins,” he said, not even looking into his eyes. Y/N’s breath hitched again. Now she understood Kai’s betrayal of her father. Firstly, when he helped her escape and now when he pointed his gun at his head for hurting her.

Her father was furious, but he couldn’t do anything about it. The dying wish was to be honoured by the family, no matter what. His sister had known exactly what she was doing in her lifetime and beyond.

He clenched his fist, his anger reverberating through the room as his knuckles collided with the nearby wall. The force of the impact made Y/N flinch within the firm grip of the young leader.

“I’m proud of you, daughter,” he unexpectedly said, his words hanging in the air, surprising everyone. Her father never uttered such words. Her eyes widened in disbelief. But his next words shattered any hope of genuine warmth.

“You escaped me and outsmarted me. I’m truly mesmerised by how you’ve finally grown to a person who can stand up to me,” his tone devoid of any affection.

“Shame you were born female,” he sneered, his words dripping with misogyny. Disgust flashed in her eyes as she stared at him.

“Will you outsmart and escape him?”

A question she doesn’t have an answer to.

A battle she had yet to fully think through.

I N T E R L O G U E

“You are a thorn in my side, Mr Min,” said the older man to the scarred leader of this territory. Yoongi stood by the window, a glass in his hand, his arm stretched out to touch the wall next to it. He was looking over at the Wongudan, the Temple of Heaven, which stood proudly just meters away from the hotel. A place he couldn’t wait to stand at the altar, tying the knot with his beloved.

“And I won’t be for much longer if you agree to my terms,” he positioned himself to face the Chinese triad leader.

“My own kin betrayed me. My sister,” the older male said in disbelief, as if he were talking more to himself than to Yoongi.

“Your sister was a very wise woman. She knew that this was the better option.”

“You slaughtered my men—”

“And you slaughtered mine. My father within them, may I add,” Yoongi interjected, growing angrier with each passing moment. He felt the pain in his chest, remembering the day his father passed away.

“I have every reason to kill you and your clan—”

“Y/N is part of our clan too, boy,” he retorted, attempting to ridicule him. Wang Zemo could not oversee the young leader’s affections towards his daughter. From the way he spoke about her to the visible tense of his body once her name was uttered.

“That would change sooner or later,” said Yoongi, his determination shining through yet again.

“She is hard to manage. Are you sure you want a wife who will constantly challenge you?” He pushed his round eyeglasses up.

“I have my ways to humble her,” he replied, knowing well that he would have to assert his authority to make her a fine wife. A loving one, perhaps, in time. She had been allowed to spread her wings too far for his liking, encouraging her to disobey any authority, not just him.

“You must have been in my sister’s favour when she gave you Y/N, knowing that she was betraying her clan.”

“Or saving you, Mr Wang. Her ulterior motive was to save your clan—”

“That could have been ensured in the treaty with Yamamotos.”

“Do you really think that would work out? They’re Japanese, too proud to be the ruling country.”

“—not for much longer. Least according to your master plan, you made with my beloved sister.” he said, mocking the entire situation.

The young leader remembered and strongly believed the words of the older female that loved his bride so dearly. She would never do anything that would hurt her, and he wished Y/N will understand that and come along once she will get the know the truth.

“If a single thing goes wrong in your little plan, Mr Min, you’re as good as dead.”

“The same goes for you, Mr Wang,” Yoongi replied, his voice filled with unwavering resolve.

to be continued

author’s note: uf, I hope you had some time to process the two previous chapters in and I promise I'll let you breathe out before I'll throw chapter four at ya ♥

Thank you so much for any comment, reblog or simply showing love to this fic. It means the world to me ♥ Let's join a hate train for Y/N's father together, he makes Yoongi look like the good guy here, whatcha think?

Also I tried to add everyone who asked to the tag list, and if you want to be in too or you ain't tagged properly, comment or dm ♥ For some undisclosed reason, I cannot tagg few accounts, if someone knows why, pls hit me up.

Sending a big shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta reading this chapter!

Love you!!!!

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love,

𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

taglist: @beautifulcloudfestival @chaoticpuff17 @honsoolgloss @jingerbreadoutofstock @moscow778 @januara26 @dinosolecito @yoongislatinagff @xyahrinx @hi12345567 @nochuel @deltamoon666 @bbkissme99 @darkuni63 @nansasa @sazsazsaz @missmin @strxwbloody @royallyjjk @jaiuneamesolitaiire @shadowyjellyfishfest @bbgniecyy @elayne321 @seojunandsoju @bun-27 @whipwhoops @wobblewobble822 @haneyyy @whofan88

©pennyellee. please do not repost

#bts #bts fic #yandere yoongi #yandere bts #yandere namjoon #soft yandere #mafia au #yandere seokjin #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #hard yandere #yandere #yandere kpop #yandere taehyung #mafia bts #lacrimosa #myg angst #dark!yoongi #min yoongi x y/n #bts x you #yoongi smut #haegeum #suga x you #suga x y/n #suga x reader #historical au #bts historical au #bts yandere au #fic:lacrimosa

[jokeringcutio]

Abijah Fowler x Reader – Finding out R is pregnant

Fandom: Blue Eye Samurai | Mature | Abijah Fowler x (f) Reader

Warnings: Angst, Drama, language, mature themes, Abijah is referred to as European Monster, Reader is referred to as half-breed, Reader is a maid at Abijah’s castle. Abijah might have feelings in this.

The drafty castle’s air brushed past your arms as you were on your hands and knees, the rough stone floor cold and unyielding beneath you as you scrubbed diligently. Despite the harsh task, you were grateful you were just scrubbing the floor today. Far too often had you been in a similar pose, but performing a different task.

Your movements were mechanical, a practiced ritual to keep your mind numb and your presence unnoticed. But today, Abijah Fowler's looming figure broke through your practiced invisibility. He materialized silently in the doorway, his shadow stretching across the polished stones like an ominous stain.

"Working hard, are we?" His voice was a low growl, barely above a whisper, yet it echoed off the walls with the authority of a war drum. In the past, you had thought his accent to be cute. Most women here had laughed at that, called you naïve, and warned you for the European beast.

They hadn’t been wrong.

Your heart thudded painfully against your ribs. You didn't dare look up, focusing instead on the gray water turning murkier with each pass of your rag. The silence stretched taut between you, heavy with his unspoken scrutiny.

“Always wondered why they let me hire these delicate young women. Suppose they’d let me do anything I want.”

You bit your tongue to keep silent and focused on the rag in your hand and the stones that were already polished until they glinted. You feared to feel his presence behind you, how he would flip your kimono and push himself inside whilst laughing about causing you distress. You tiny women couldn’t take a man his size, he’d say. But he’d make you anyway. He’d done so to you and nearly every pleasant-looking maid in his service. He was famous for that. A brute.

But instead of coming to stand behind you, he remained where he was. Merely watched you in silence, probably aware of your attempt to avoid him, probably suspecting why that was.

"Stand up," he commanded suddenly, and you rose to your feet, the bucket and rag forgotten.

His green eyes roamed over you, slow and deliberate—a predator assessing its prey. A shiver ran down your spine. You knew that gaze, knew the violence it cloaked.

His fingers curled around your arm, grip iron-tight, and he pulled you aside roughly. How many times have you seen him do similar things to former friends? Too often. Their names were no longer mentioned but the memories of them were not forgotten.

Not a word escaped his lips as he pulled you close so he could have a proper look at you. Just a chilling smile appeared on his lips, a smile that betrayed his intent more than any threat could.

"Something's different about you," he mused, his touch on your skin making you flinch.

The muscles in your stomach clenched, not from his roaming gaze but from the life stirring within you—a secret you had hoped to keep buried. Panic clawed at the edges of your composure, threatening to unravel you thread by thread.

"My Lord, I assure you, nothing's changed," you lied, the words tasting like ash in your mouth.

"Is that so?" he chuckled darkly, his fingers roaming past the bulge hidden beneath the layers of clothes. “Funny. I can’t remember you bleeding the past few months. Should have noticed, what with being inside of you so darn often.”

His roaming hands came to rest on your waist, fingers tightening.

With a sudden shove, he pushed you away. Instinctively, you stumbled forward, struggling to maintain your balance. His laughter followed you, a sound that carried the weight of a death sentence.

"Watch your step," he taunted, eyes glinting with malice. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to you…or our babe."

You caught yourself before you hit the ground, the fear inside you now a live wire, sparking with the urgency of danger. You knew the stories, the whispered fates of women who found themselves in your position under Abijah Fowler's roof. None had ended well.

"Ah, there you are. On your knees, at my feet, Just where you are supposed to be. Now,” he drew a deep breath, closing his eyes for a short moment as if he relished in this. “Let me have a good look at you.”

He ran a hand through his long oddly colored hair – the grey taking root and fading whatever bright color it had been before. Like the fading sunlight, you thought. Not a color any Japanese man or woman had ever shown. Something unique to him that you could have found attractive if he had treated you and the others better.

“You’ve done a pretty good job fooling me,” his words sounded firm, but his voice was softer than usual.

Every instinct screamed at you to run, to hide, but where could you go? This castle was a cage. Carrying his bastard child. If he wouldn’t kill you, the others in the castle surely would. As you crawled backward, away from your Lord and Master, you realized that even if you could get across these walls, his men were everywhere. Abijah’s influence reached far and wide.

And he had guns.

He didn’t need to stand next to you to end your life.

"I suppose you were going to keep this a secret?" The man who was your master whispered. His accent sent another shiver down your spine, the words sounded so delicate. Such a contrast to how the man really was.

"Of course, Master," you managed to say, your voice steadier than you felt.

"Good girl," he said, the two words slicing through you sharper than any blade.

Your heartbeat hammered in your ears. The cool stone walls pressed against your back as you tried to melt into the darkness, your breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps. But the heavy footfalls echoed ominously, drawing nearer. Abijah's voice cut through the silence like a knife through silk.

"Stand up," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.

The command left no room for defiance. With trembling legs, you complied, rising to face him.

This is it, you thought, fear filling your entire being. This is where I die.

His hands found your midsection, rough and unyielding, pressing against the subtle swell that betrayed your secret. You flinched at the contact, his touch igniting a firestorm of revulsion within you.

"Ah," he said, a smile curling his lips. "I enjoyed you. Every time we joined together. Should have known my seed would take as it did with so many others.” Then, a deep sigh. “A shame I'll have to miss our little rendezvous."

His words were a dark promise, chilling your blood. You stood there, frozen, unable to speak or move away from the invasive hands that claimed ownership over both your body and the life it carried. Even if he did let you live, he would only wait for the child to be born and tear its young life away from you. The babe would end up in the sewers, just like all your friends and their children had.

"Look at me," Abijah growled.

You lifted your gaze to meet his, But what you saw in them confused you. It wasn’t the expected malice, but something else. A mixture of something you couldn’t quite name.

Among the emotions you recognized pride. It glinted in his green eyes, a perverse satisfaction that he had been the one to start a new life within you. That his seed had caught not just in any of his maids, but in you specifically.

"You're a peculiar creature, aren't you?" he mused, his fingers tracing circles over your stomach. "You made it this far... A half-breed yourself… always so fascinating."

The words were murmured, his touch surprisingly gentle. His words hung between you, a twisted compliment that only served to deepen your confusion. Then, without another word, he broke away.

His hand disappeared beneath the layers of his robes, and the instant fear that he was going to draw a gun or knife to kill you took hold of you. But when his hand was revealed again he held a pouch in it.

Without a word, he stood, waiting, until you finally raised both your hands. Then he dropped the pouch, the softness of the silk and the weight against your palms surprising you.

Something in the man’s eyes glistened. But it wasn’t something bad. Just, something you had never really seen before. Unless it was in the eyes of the cook when he looked at his wife. Or the guard who recently married and had looked at his bride.

But surely, you must be mistaken.

In silence, Abijah turned on his heels and strode away, leaving you standing there, the ghost of his touch still lingering on your unborn child. Your heart pounded against your ribcage.

You waited until his footsteps faded before allowing yourself to collapse against the wall, sliding down to the cold floor. Your eyes slid to the pouch in your hands. Trembling, you pulled the strings to gasp at the sight inside.

Glistening and glinting. Enough money to last you and your child a lifetime. Enough money to bribe your way out and get away.

He's proud, you realized with a shudder. Proud of giving me this baby?

Had he done this to other women before? Was it just a trick? You didn’t know, but one thing was clear. He’d given you a small reprieve from death, and in your hands, you carried the promise for better times. A chance to keep you alive, whilst at the same time a death sentence if he wanted to get rid of you.

He could just say you had stolen the purse.

I need to leave, you resolved, the idea taking root deep within you. Before he changes his mind. For our child... I have to run.

~

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Taglist: @queenofcringe @samicte

#abijah fowler #abijah fowler x reader #abijah fowler x female reader #abijah fowler x you #blue eye samurai fanfiction #blue eye samurai

[aphroditelovesu]

Hi !yandere, can I have a love letter for Alexander the Great and Sultan Mehmet the Conqueror (a reader who ran away to his family)

Alexander the Great

My love,

I write these words with a heavy heart and a burning soul, because since the moment you left, my life has become an unbearable void. Each night, I lie in my bed, looking at the space you once occupied, smelling the soft scent of your hair that still lingers in my memory.

It is undeniable that in my quest to conquer distant lands and achieve eternal glory, I have lost myself in my own desire for power and greatness. I realize now that I neglected what mattered most: you, the sun that lit up my world.

I understand that you ran away from me, perhaps rightly so, to find security and peace. However, I can't help but implore you to consider returning. I'm willing to give up everything I've built, all the lands I've conquered, just to feel your warmth one more time.

I promise that I will be a better man, that I will treasure our moments together as precious treasures, and that I will protect you with all my might. My beloved, my heart belongs to you and no one else, and I will never allow anyone to separate us again.

Please think about it, as my existence without you is empty and meaningless. My sweetheart, I love you more than life itself and would do anything to have you back.

With eternal love and longing,

Alexander.

Mehmed the Conqueror

My beloved,

I write this letter with a dark mind and a heart filled with torment, for since you fled, my soul has been condemned to endless darkness. I remember the nights when your smile lit up my world and your presence filled my being with joy. Now, I am consumed by the absence you left behind.

I have committed terrible acts in my pursuit of conquest, but know that they were all motivated by an unhealthy desire to protect you, to keep you safe from any danger that might come your way. My beloved, you don't understand how much I love you and what I am capable of doing to have you back in my arms.

I understand that you ran away from me in search of freedom and security, but, my love, the world outside is dangerous and full of threats. I am willing to destroy any obstacle that stands in our way, to tear the world apart to find you and bring you back to me.

I can't live without you, my beloved. My heart belongs to you, and only you. I swear that I will be better, that I will do whatever is necessary to deserve your presence in my life. No matter where you are hiding, I will find you.

Please consider returning willingly, my beloved. I love you more than life itself, and our union is the only way to my redemption. Without you, I'm just an empty shadow, and my love for you is so deep that the mere thought of living without you is unbearable.

With the deepest love,

Mehmed.

#yandere love letter #love letter #history #yandere history #yandere historical characters #yandere alexander the great #yandere alexander the great x reader #yandere alexander the great love letter #alexander the great x reader #yandere mehmed the conqueror #yandere mehmed the conqueror x reader #yandere mehmed the conqueror love letter #mehmed the conqueror x reader

[blue-moonjelly]

Listen closely and stay Silent

MINORS DNI

Satan x nonbinary MC (obedience, sub/dom, master/slave, kinda public stuffs)

Authors note: Yeah so I kinda made this on a whim, um, just let me know if you want a part two cause this was already getting long enough as is, but if yall want it enough I'll gladly make a part 2, okay that's it, ENJOY)

“MC” Satan’s voice hummed as he nuzzled his warm cheek against your head, his hands stirring atop your lap as you somehow seemed to curl further into the grasp of him, “you’re so warm” he continued to speak in a hazed tone as he continued to engulf you in his grasp. 

You could only giggle and sigh at his words as you continued to snuggle up with him on the couch under the blanket that retained your shared body heat.

“Hey don’t distract MC” Levi was quick to argue as he focussed on the game you both were currently in the middle of, “you promised that you wouldn't distract them from completing this level with me if I let you stay, so I repeat, do NOT make us lose our progress Satan”.

And while normally Satan would be quick to react to Levi’s half-baked threat and show him what a true threat was, your presence had him under such a trance of serenity that he couldn’t bear to get up from his spot and disturb you both. So he simply muffled a response he had no intention of keeping and continued to settle his head in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your skin ever so softly that it could have simply been interpreted as a happy accident. 

Though you knew Satan better than to believe that excuse of innocence. 

“Hey Levi,” you said while continuing to click your fingers along the buttons of the controller you held, “I think the controller is starting to bug out a little bit,” you feigned while purposefully clicking the wrong buttons, “it won’t let me follow you into the next chamber.”

“No, no, no” Levi quickly paused the game on his end and ran to his room, you assumed to retrieve some sort of solution to the ‘broken controller’.

“That’s odd,” Satan said while fidgetting with the controller, “It’s working just fine for me right now”

You softly placed two fingers under the demon's chin and turned his gaze to yours, his lips mere inches from your own and already trembling at what you would possibly be doing with them next, “Satan, be quiet, not a sound can come out of you until I say so” you ordered with a soft tone of voice, a clear contradiction to the words that spilled from your lips. 

The order however seemed to be effective, though admittedly you couldn’t quite tell if it was because you were his master or if he was simply pathetic enough to not crave putting up a much of a fight. And while you wished to see right now just how obedient of a pup he could truly be, Levi’s steps and quickly sounded as he breathed heavily and entered the room with a new controller in his grasp, “I- I got the other one” he said between labored breaths as he hunched his body over and held out the controller. 

“Oh, thanks Levi,” you said in a cheery tone, “but I actually was hoping I could get a little break, my eyes are hurting from staring at the screen for too long, do you think Satan could play in my place,” you asked, using a tone of voice and pleading eyes that you knew Levi just couldn’t say no to.

Levi was more than reluctant to the suggestion of adding his brother to the game, but he couldn’t help but melt into your smile and begrudgingly handed Satan the new remote, “you do still know how to play right” he asked while sitting back down on another couch. 

Satan nodded to his brother, and though you could tell Levi questioned his lack of verbal response, you quickly interjected from any further questions being asked by starting the game back up.

A few minutes passed of calm gameplay, Levi was still leading the team perfectly, and Satan was actually doing quite well as an added fighter to the quest. While he wasn’t quite the gamer that Levi was, no one could deny that he was doing a pretty great job at keeping up with the pace. 

“You’re doing so well Satan” you carefully whispered into his left ear as you hooked your fingers along the waistband of his sweatpants, the soft comfy ones you had just bought him last week and adored to see him in, “keep playing pup” you continued to coo into his hear as you ever so slightly scratched at his lower abdomen with your sharp fingernails, the fresh manicure he had just bought you already being put to perfect use. 

Suddenly the controller that sat in his hands began to buzz violently and like clockwork, “SATAN NO” Levi suddenly screamed in agonizing pain, “you need to focus” he continued to yell while fixing his error in the gameplay before he went back to violently playing and rushing his focus to the screen. 

Your lips only curled into a devious smile as you fully snuggled into the warmth of the blanket that you and Satan shared, your hands once again coming to grasp at his waistband and tug ever so gently onto it as you traced a single finger onto his growing erection. “Make sure you’re paying attention pup, Levi will know something’s up if you don’t play” you cooed in his ear while placing a soft kiss on his cheek, “assist him while I take care of you”

Satan could only silently oblige, simply nodding his answer as he gripped at his controller.

You couldn’t help but adore your demon in this state, the demon of wrath a mere puddle in your palm, a higher being whose powers crumbled before your words and actions. Something as simple as a lick to his neck was enough to cause shivers down his back, a little scratch from your manicure could cause his hips to involuntarily buck into your grasp, and just one pull of his waistband could allow his hard erection to spring free and already begin to drip onto your hands. 

“You’re so obedient, albeit a little eager, but you’re listening so carefully” you continued to whisper, releasing a breath of hot air into his ear and using your free hand to tug at his hair, while the other continued to stroke him ever so slowly, enjoying the way he tried so hard to buck into your hands at a faster speed than you were willing to give. 

The sweat on his forehead continued to build up, and the corners of his mouth twitched while he tried so hard to focus on the game and not tip off Levi on what could possibly be happening under this blanket just a mere few feet away from him. But the feelings you were curating just for him were insane, and it wasn’t just the stroking of his cock that drove him to near growls, it was the way you put careful attention to detail in each of his senses. You knew exactly how to put each of his five senses into overdrive, in ways that he hadn’t ever thought to be possible, and yet you somehow discovered and did it all so effortlessly. 

“Satan”

Your whisper of a moan echoed so deeply into his mind that thoughts were no longer coherent, there was only one singular thought that shone brightly into his mind, and that was the image of the endless things you could do to him in privacy. The desire rang so deeply in his brain that without a second thought, he quickly pulled himself out of your grip, pulled his pants back up, tossed the controller to the side, pulled the blanket away from the both of you and carried you into his arms away from the room.

“SATAN WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU” Levi yelled from the top of his lungs while he tried to fight off the sudden swarm of enemies that were coming at him in the game, however as you were being carried away and looked at the screen from over Satan’s shoulder you could see it was to no avail as the words ‘loser’ painted the screen “NOOOOOOOO—”

Levi’s scream echoed through the house and was only muffled once Satan tossed you onto his bed and closed the door, quickly pulling off his shirt and tossing it to the side as he swooped down to your level and began to attack your neck in a flurry of kisses and bites.

And while tingles of pleasure ran across your body, you knew that your demon had disobeyed and for that, he needed to be punished. You lifted your hand and grabbed a full chunk of his hair into your grip and pulled it back hard, “Satan, what do you think you're doing,” he attempted to open his mouth to say something but quickly recalled through his efforts that you had banned him to use his words, “you’ve been a bad pup and bad pups need to be disciplined”.

His eyes were fogged with tears and overwhelming emotions, he swallowed hard as he got down and kneeled in front of you.

You thought it looked humorous, a demon kneeling before you as though you were the only God he could ever respect, especially when you both knew that you were, each word of yours rang like a hymn. His fingers twitched at his sides as the urge to touch your skin gnawed at him, but he stayed still, practically salivating at the mere thought of his endless desires.

“You’re such a beautiful demon, a statue of beauty” you spoke with authority, retaining your strong grip on his hair as you dipped down to his level and placed your free hand under his chin, caressing his jaw as the bottom of your foot gently stepped down on his erection, causing you to chuckle as he silently winced at the feeling of it, “It’s a shame I’ll have to break you down to ash”.

#obey me mc #obey me smut #obey me #smut #x reader #obey me satan #shall we date satan #satan #satan x mc #mc x canon #mc x satan #shall we date mc #obey me shall we date #om! shall we date

[gothbass]

(Images mostly from Pinterest)

One Of Us (Pt. 2)

★ Rhea Ripley x [afab] Reader

Warnings: 18+ [vamp!rhea x vamp!reader], praise, language, fluff, odaxelagnia, light smut (?) [sadist!rhea x masochist!reader], relative song mentions, smutty puns (comedy), silicone strap-on (mentions).

Word count: 1,817.

Rhea takes a moment to breathe before responding. “...Are you sure you want this?”

Your gaze into her eyes shows an overtone of desperation, though you immediately assume she's enjoying it anyway. (You're correct.) “I don't want this…” you start, before turning away and looking back into her eyes, “I need this… so much more than you think…”

Hearing your words, Rhea's eyes roll backwards for a second or two before her lids flutter her vision back into focus (onto you, of course). “Oh yeah?” her bold demeanor falls right back into place where it belongs. “Beg some more, and maybe I'll give you what you want so badly.”

Knowing your paths here, you take the one your impulses, head, and heart desire most.

“Please,” you barely whine, “I need you.”

“How badly?” She's merely testing your patience, by this point.

“So badly, Mami.” She allows a genuine smile to make its presence known when she hears this.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Then, tell me. Who owns you?”

“None other than you, Mami.”

“What was that? Couldn't hear you.” With each moment that passes onward, you figure she's enjoying every waking second she gets to tease you.

“You do. You own me.”

“Good girl,” she praises before starting to unbutton your vest.

Much as you're caught up in the moment, you happen to only notice a red flash. Auditorily, her words glitch out as she speaks. Your eyes feel like they’re rolling to the back of your skull (though they’re not), and you pass out into a state of comatose right then and there.

Trying to hear as best as you can, you overhear Rhea arguing with another person.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?!? You can't just do that shit!” Rhea's voice is composed, yet shows anger.

“Weren’t you ever told not to play with your food?” a passive voice responded.

“...What?”

“I suppose I should show you how a real individual of our species fulfills its life's destiny.” The voice approaches you, then stops as Rhea lets out a threat.

“Touch her and you're dead.” The voice only laughs in response.

“You can't kill what's already dead, sweetie, but you can sure as hell try.” The voice pins your motionless body down where it already was, and allows her canines to prominently shift into fangs.

As Rhea thinks of a game plan, the voice’s fangs sink into the flesh of your neck—draining your body of its blood.

“You’ve fucked up big time, little girl,” Rhea declares quietly before rushing after the voice. The voice threatens to drain Rhea's blood, but Rhea throws a few blows to the voice’s body and mutilates the living hell out of it.

“Go to hell,” Rhea mutters to the almost completely unliving voice’s body.

“Been there, done that,” the voice replies.

“Muy bien, pequeña mierda. (Alright, you little shit.)”

“Aww, ¿alguien está celoso? (Aww, is someone jealous?)”

“En tus sueños, pipsqueak. (In your dreams, pipsqueak.)”

Rhea steps on the voice's bodily throat until it suffocates enough to pass out and return to its unliving state. After having done so, she kicks the corpse off and out of the ring, returning to you soon after. (Meanwhile, the corpse dissolves from flesh into thin air.)

She quickly kneels beside your motionless body and checks for any sign of a pulse.

Thank your lucky stars, you (at least) have a low pulse. Even so, it's better than no pulse at all. Purely relieved, Rhea’s eyes water a slight bit, only to water a slight bit more when she sees you weakly rid of your state of comatose.

“What the hell did she do to you?” Rhea asks, muttering the question under her breath, only focused on her concern for your well-being.

You groan in an attempt to lift yourself up at least a little bit. “Don’t move too much, I don't want you to get any more hurt than you already are,” you can hear the heaving concern and slight panic within her tone of voice.

“Please, Mami, I'm fine.” As soon as she hears the word ‘Mami’ come out of your mouth, she smiles a little.

“It doesn't matter whether or not you think you're fine, it matters that you're physically okay—which you're not. You're weak.”

“Look who's gone all soft, Mami.” You tilt your head and smile, almost laughing.

Rhea’s canines become prominent as she bites into her wrist (True Blood [Bill Compton] reference) and forces it to your mouth, making you feed off of her nutritious blood in order for your body and blood to regenerate quicker.

Even through force, you willingly drink the blood from her wrist—your face flushing as you do so (totally because of the blood). Rhea bites her lip as she watches you take in her blood with such enthusiasm.

“Good girl,” you hear Rhea lowly state with a moan-ish tone. “Good fucking girl,” this time—it was moaned out.

“I try my hardest, Mami,” you almost whine after pulling away from her wrist, a mix of deep red blood and saliva forming a bridge between its origins.

“I know you do,” she smiles. “I know.”

Rhea pauses for a moment, thinking.

She lifts your head and neck in her direction, and slowly sinks her fangs into your neck—causing your breath to hitch mid-moan.

“Fuck—Rhea,” you gasp out in a quick whine, face flushing harder than ever. You try to grip the flooring of the ring, but just end up pressing your nails hard against it. Your head attempts to drop itself, though Rhea forces your head to lean back.

The feeling of a rush of blood courses through your body, the new blood replacing another three quarters (75%) of your old blood.

Rhea sets you down to let you rest. She makes her way out of the ring and into the women's restroom. After having acquired a roll of gauze from the women's restroom, she makes her way back to the ring. She kneels down by your side and carefully wraps the gauze around your neck where she bit you. She takes the opportunity to wrap her wrist with gauze, as well, before bringing the roll of gauze into her office and returning to you.

After about 30 minutes of allowing you to rest, Rhea lightly wakes you up.

“Feeling any better?” she asks you, the concern in her tone still visible.

“Mhm. A lot better, actually; thanks.” You smile.

“Do you think you’d be up for a little…” she pauses, searching for a fairly vague enough word, “unification?” You smirk a little as you hear this and sit yourself up.

“More than I thought I would,” you admit. You had a gut feeling that you'd get killed today, but you also had the intuition that you’d still be alive even if you died.

“Shall we, then?” She points over to her office, the door wide open for you both as if she had planned this well ahead of time. In admiration, you nod.

“We shall, Mami.”

After you've both exited the ring, you walk foremost into her office. Rhea follows behind you into her office and locks the door shut. Taking a bold opportunity, she pins your body against a nearby filing cabinet with her own—in an attempt to open a drawer to pull something out of it.

Your eyes widen nervously as you happen to notice what she pulls out (insert a few second long awkward silence here).

“Cat got your tongue?” she asks, noticing that you've gone nervously quiet.

You take a moment to take in its length, then another to wonder something. “Are you sure that's long enough? Looks below average to me,” you humorously protest.

Rhea reacts by raising a brow and forcing a forearm to your throat, causing you to choke for a moment. “Don’t you start dick-shaming the silicone unless you want it either shoved down your throat or shoved up your—”

“Maybe I do,” you cut her off, choking the words out.

“Oh yeah? Where?” She moves her forearm away from your throat, allowing you to catch your breath.

“Wherever you want, Mami.”

“That’s a good girl. And you'll take it like one. Am I clear?”

“Clear as the silicone isn't.” (FYI, the silicone is a solid black. Nowhere close to ghostcase.)

Rhea slaps you across the face, expecting a better answer.

“Yes, Mami. Crystal clear.”

She smiles, lightly grips the silicone, and pulls the swivel chair of her desk outward and sits in it—completely manspread.

[Here — Alessia Cara] “Shorts,” Rhea starts, staring at you a little uncomfortably. “Off. Now,” she commands, which you follow forth in obeying. You walk a little closer, just enough to stand dead center in front of her. “Perfect,” she eyes you up and down while muttering under her breath, almost in a sort of hypnotic trance. [dominatrix moment.]

In a pleasingly provocative manner, you make the move of slowly slipping your shorts down your legs and leaving them on the floor (insert [Porn Star Dancing — Darkest Days, Chad Kroeger, Zakk Wylde]).

Rhea shortly follows suit, syncing herself with the stripping of your clothing. That is, just enough for what's to come (wink wink).

Rhea, after having slipped perfectly into the silicone strap-on, pats her inner thighs as a signal. “Come. Sit,” she orders—commanding for you to sit astride her. Of course, you stealthily obey her command.

“Shh,” she covers your mouth with a hand despite your prepared quietness, “talk with your body, not your mouth.” A small torrent of heat rushes up your body.

“I—” you barely utter before being cut off.

“What did I just say?”

You respond with nothing as another little wave of heat courses through you.

About half a moment of silence occurs.

“There’s no going back from this, y’know,” Rhea states, as if concluding a contract, breaking the short-lived silence.

“And I suppose that's supposed to deter me—somehow?”

“Well, that depends. Do you think you're brave enough to face the brutality?”

“You mean your brutality?”

She rolls her eyes.

“Why else would I be here?” you ask in a rhetoric sense.

She shrugs. “Are you sure you want to follow through with this?”

“Of course, Mami.”

“I guess this means you're one of our kind now,” she says, “and you always will be,” she whispers.

“As long as I'm under your custody, I do not care what form I take.” You rest your hands gently around her neck, arms upon her shoulders.

She gasps slightly for a second as she thinks. “Do you care for position?” she asks.

“I’ll leave that up to you.” You tilt your head.

“Since I did fulfill you with endless life,” she says, “not only for your benefit,” she whispers, “would you do me the favor of doing me a favor?” she asks.

“Would doing you suffice?”

She eyes the silicone up and down.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Muy bien.”

[Series Masterlist]

Part 3

#rhea ripley #fanfic #light smut #wlw #wlw smut #rhea x reader #afab reader

[husbandyke]

I know all us sacrilege whores love a good priest corruption fantasy, but imagine if you will: a demon posing as a priest in order to corrupt you instead. never holy or well-intentioned to begin with, but oh so good at playing the part. 

the facade would be entirely pleasant: a handsome face, a soft frame clad in vestments and cosy cardigans and loafers, a soothing voice, an easy humble confidence, a calming presence. the opposite of a threat, a man that earns trust so effortlessly. some might think him too good to be true, if they didn’t like him so much—he always knows just what to say to get through to people, to gain their favour, to make them feel seen.

and see he does. he watches, razor-sharp observant, and learns every little secret, teases out every little bit of gossip, sees into the pits of everyone’s worst temptations. he finds everyone’s weak spots and cooks up a plan to exploit and exacerbate each and every one of them, and no one would suspect a thing. once he’d set his roots in your parish, it would be easy—a little comment here, a bit of advice there, specific guidance and unique penances in confession. he would need no weapon or tool but his words. 

there would be signs, if you were clever, that something wasn’t quite right. he would never actually say the word God, always Him or Our Father or The Big Guy if he was being nonchalant during the homily, which usually earned smiles from the congregation. no one would actually ever see him take communion, as he would prepare most of it with his back turned from the nave. he would never actually cross himself or others when giving a blessing, conducting his hand in the wrong order or wrong shape, his deliberately mumbled and muddled words mistaken for reverent whispers. he would never directly touch any crucifixes or rosaries or anoint with holy water with his bare hands, always using a cloth or a cup or those black gloves of his that everyone readily accepted when he'd casually explained his skin sensitivity, because why wouldn't they? they believed every word out of that mouth.

when he discovers your dirty little secret, he’s excited—lust is one of the big seven, but a delicate one to coax someone into. a slow burn, a long game. but he’s more than willing to go that road, especially given your specific perversion around holy men. he would be delighted that tempting you would require a more involved approach.

it would start simple and innocent—an extra squeeze when shaking your hand, a lingering glance from across the room, a quick warm touch on the shoulder in greeting. that would be more than enough to get your blood running hot, but it would pick up over time—compliments on your beauty and praise for your character & virtue, little jokes about being lonely living all by himself in the big empty rectory, locking his gaze onto you during sermon about depravity and carnality like you were the only one in the room. enough to make him consume your thoughts, your guilty daydreams, your dirty fantasies. 

but still never breaking through the artifice of mere association, maintaining total innocence, never advancing. just smiling that smile and saying your name with such headaching sweetness, waiting for you to break, as he know you will. it would only be matter of time. 

waiting until you’ve picked holes in your sunday sweaters and bitten your cheeks sore from holding back, until you two end up alone in the chapel or the halls of the church somewhere private enough, until one little playful joke snaps the last of your resolve. waiting for you to close the gap between the two of you, to grab him by the shirt or push him up against the wall and trap him in a kiss, needing more, needing him. and even lost in the heat of passion, you’d swear you’d feel him smile and chuckle against your mouth, quietly triumphant, before slipping back into character.

#queer nsft #heirophilia #blasphemy #priest kink #sacrilege #sacrilegeposting #demon #demons #monsterposting #husbandposting #writing #nsft writing

[unhallowedwitch]

You Can Always Call Me

Ever since I was a child I could feel his presence. 

I never knew who or what he was or what he wanted. He was just there… watching. His presence never felt threatening or malicious in any way, more like that comforting hug that holds you together when you feel your entire world is falling apart. It wasn’t until last year that I learned who he was and that he didn’t want anything from me, not really. All he asked was for me to be unabashedly myself, one of the hardest things for me to do, what with my people pleasing tendencies and whatnot. In that moment I was confused, maybe even cautious. After 24 years of being told that being myself was a problem that needed to be fixed instead of something to be celebrated, I was worried that maybe this was too good to be true. Maybe this was some cruel trick to get my hopes up only to ruin me at the last moment, something I unfortunately have a lot of experience with.

However, that moment never came.

What’s even more surprising is that this all-encompassing feeling of warmth, safety, and care, came from the least likely of places, as far as my religious upbringing would have me believe. For the presence that brings me so much joy and security, is someone who I’ve always been told is the embodiment of all evil in the world. However, my personal, life-long, experience with this being has proven to be the opposite. For those he chooses to be in his life, he is kind, caring, compassionate, and even downright protective at times, but he also wishes for us to learn by ourselves, make mistakes and grow from them, and overall better ourselves. He’s not really a being that wants to hold your hand through every single bad thing that happens in your life or even have complete say or control over it, more so, he’s there to be a guiding light to keep you on your path and help you when you get lost. He’s like, for me at least, the ideal parent. Someone who knows that you don’t like being coddled, or swarmed over when something’s wrong, and would just like the assurance that they’re there if you need them and that they care about you, but they also acknowledge that you want to be left alone to deal with your feelings. In many ways, he’s like the father I wished I had, however, he has never taken this relationship for granted. He’s never taken me for granted.

Not once has he asked for anything substantial from me. No offerings or even words of worship. Not once has he asked me to kneel before him and obey every command he gives without question, lest I burn for all eternity. Not once has he told me what I can and cannot do. Not once has he told me that indulging in the things that bring happiness into my life will taint my soul and damn me to eternal hellfire. From him I receive no threats, no impossible standards to reach or punishments for not reaching them. He’s always just been there for me. Throughout every trial and tribulation, throughout every up and every down, he’s been there, supporting me from the shadows even when I felt so alone in my suffering. In spite of this, he’s also difficult to describe in his complexity. He is both light and darkness, good and evil, powerful and vulnerable, kind and wrathful. In a way he’s like us, for we are all capable of anything, however it is our choices that define who we become, not the words of an ancient text written by men from a time long past, from a civilization long gone.

The only thing that I regret from being in his life has been that I didn’t know who or what he was sooner. That maybe I could have had some semblance of order and support in my exceptionally chaotic life, if I took the time to understand him and not just follow what I have been told by others who didn’t even want to hear something different. I know that the mere mention of his name will cause some heads to turn in abject horror, but know this, with him I feel more at peace, more joyful, and more safe, than ever before when I fought against who I am, trying so desperately to appease some high standard I could never meet by the mere nature of being myself.

With him in my life, I never again have to worry about not being good enough. For with him, I was born more than good enough. I know he is always there for me when I need him and that he trusts that I will always be the most authentic version of me at all times.

I know that whenever I need his help, Satan will say “You can always call me”

#theistic satanist #satanist #beginner writer #a little thing I wrote for Satan #you can always call me #semi ghost band inspired #my first time writing anything like this so please be kind 🥹

[strywoven]

@phytonomy has requested a story : 🔙   //   push  my  muse  against  a  wall . (for Verona from Knives)

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

A TWO-WAY sort of exchange , this connection , one innate to their kind and specific to t h e m ( bonds between plants are often individual , theirs is equally unique ; no-one else can infringe on the intimate space where their souls commingle ) .  Every part of her feels EXPOSED TO HIM ( seen , heard , at times even touched & made raw— ) .  In turn , there is a new vulnerability to Knives , one she understands he is not privy to , one that remains j u s t beyond the reach of his measures for ( desperate ) control.  And , for the most part , Verona’s re-exploration of him is always CHASTE , done with the r e s p e c t he is owed.  Never – or rather , not typically – does the Matriarch take more than she is given , than she is offered.  Such that is , sharing such a bond makes keeping secrets … RATHER DIFFICULT ( if not altogether impossible ) ; he ought to know , anyways , there is no hiding anything from her.  Not ever.

Slow , at first , as usual , the idle l e a k i n g feeling of her presence all but unraveling through his head like a GROWING ROT ; unfurling bigger , bigger still , reaching out to all corners of his head with her too-greedy claws to t o u c h and p r y at whatever she finds , dislodging both thought and memory , replacing it with a dull ache and a lulling melody.  If this were a human , one might accuse her of POSSESSION ; a demon’s magic , a CONSUMPTION .  But there is never any harm in merely looking , is there ?  For the moment , it feels as if that is all she does , traipsing about the halls and hollows of her companion’s mind just as he does her.

There is no real venture to find anything … And yet she does.  This is not her memory to reclaim , but Verona cannot help the way she seizes onto it ; he had a human , too !  Almost like a happy little family , the twins and this Rem.  Lo’ our messiah is not so p e r f e c t l y absolved , is he ?  Finally ⸺ !

⸺ The force of him rounding on her , shoving her into the wall , knocks her head back , sending everything momentarily OUT OF FOCUS alongside a dizzying pain.  But the damage has been done ; what she’s seen , cannot be unseen ( she remembers everything & this especially , is not a detail she shall be keen to overlook ) .  And even in the wake of Knives’ ire , Verona feels a swell of EGO & TRIUMPH for her little discovery , for this little s e c r e t he did not want her to know ( & why is that ? she wonders ) .  She shall SAVOR this feeling for a time to come , yes.

❝ Oh , dear , ❞ A pitying look is given , ❝ Strike a nerve did I ? ❞  More than a nerve , as it would seem !  How delightfully interesting !  His entire disposition has shifted ; the energy between them has become strained and volatile.  Yet what is also incredibly strange about this is – they both know – he could do her harm … But he refrains ( whyever for ? who is staying his blades if not the lingering memory of the strange girl he knew who would hold his hand ? ) .  Despite herself , Verona g r i n s at him , the bleeding remnants of her tearing into his memories still dripping all-too-proudly there off her hungered maw.  ❝ You ought to learn to keep your temper , my beloved brother , ❞ Noted how the taunting sentiment only stokes his irritation further.  Leaning forward , she presses into his space , nose-to-nose ; the air seems HEAVY & TENSE , choked on the struggle for power between the two ( where all too often knives falls just a few steps behind her devilry , each moment of bout bringing another occasion of being outmatched ) .  ❝ Else I may not think to keep m i n e . ❞  Less a threat , more of a promise , punctuated by the way she snaps her teeth at him.

#❧ ⸺ how can ( queue ) say there is no story here ? ❞ #❧ ⸺ ch. verona | answered ❞ #❧ ⸺ ch. verona | verse vii: trigun ❞ #phytonomy #me standing in the bg: ......... it did say or *aggression* soooo #i mean aggression for these two IS considered tension idk idk #they're hopeless and vile and despicable #and i hate them ( lying ) #also i wrote this BEFORE we set in the canon they already “met” #sooo #hm. i dunno it's still heehee haha anyways

[thisiswheremywritinggoes]

A couple of hours before I read this piece (which is gut-wrenching and infuriating, btw), I was looking at the Google reviews for the public library where I've worked for the past nine years, and I noticed that a couple of months ago, someone gave us a one star review due to the presence of people they perceived to be experiencing homelessness in and outside the library. They made sure to mention that library staff "wasn't doing anything about it."

I would like to ask this anonymous reviewer, what would you have us "do," exactly? What makes the public library any less theirs than it is yours? If you want to talk about behaviors, I'm ready to have that conversation, and I will tell you from (lots and lots and lots of) experience that we are quick to address patron behaviors which are disturbing to other patrons or could cause harm. Staff has received extensive training in this area, plus we have a social work consultant on staff AND a relationship with our local law enforcement's community resource officer who are ready to jump in and help when necessary. But someone's presence, someone having the audacity to merely exist in front of you, where they can be seen living their lives in a way that makes you uncomfortable or angry, does not require any action, and you're a complete piece of shit if you think it does.

Do I want our library to be a welcoming and safe place? Of course I do. This is my life's work! But being out in the world means that sometimes you're going to see things that make you uncomfortable or scared, not because you actually have a legitimate reason to be afraid, but because you have been conditioned to perceive a threat where none exists. It is not my job to act as the custodian of all you perceive so that you are somehow exempt from encountering "the public" at a public library.

The safety net is not large enough to hold everyone. I see this every single day. I am one librarian, but I will do my part to make you feel welcome, to provide you with a comfortable chair, an outlet to charge your phone, a toilet, a granola bar, a shower ticket for the YMCA, a computer to write your manifesto. I will be kind and patient with you, and not assume that since you're struggling, you're a useless piece of shit.

You see a "scary homeless person." I see someone who is struggling to meet their basic needs, to find a safe place to sleep, enough food to eat, relief from chronic pain, freedom from abuse. They come to us because they feel safe here, because this is a place where we will not allow them to be victimized or harmed -- not here, not on our watch.

Jordan Neely needed help. He deserved help, more than the folks on that train deserved to "feel safe" (whatever the fuck that means). To defend the actions of the man who murdered him, and the accomplices who were complicit in his murder by restraining him, is absolutely monstrous.

That's all I have to say.

#jordan neely #public libraries

[adamwatchesmovies]

Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters (2013)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

The Percy Jackson series got off to a wobbly start but a sequel had every opportunity to expand on what worked and ditch the rest. Now that we’d gotten over all the introductions, we’d be able to dig in properly. Maybe we could explore a more complicated story, get to know the characters better and see them grow the way the heroes in the Harry Potter series did with each subsequent chapter. Unfortunately, your hopes for Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters are dashed away by Marc Guggenheim's terrible screenplay. By the time it gets to a conclusion that promises “we’ve got even more coming in the third one!” you want to tell it not to bother.

Set some time after the events of the first movie, Percy Jackson (Logan Lerman) is the son of Poseidon, a demi-god who trains at Camp Half-Blood with the sons and daughters of the Greek Pantheon. His best friends are Grover (Brandon T. Jackson), a satyr, and Annabeth (Alexandra Daddario), the daughter of Athena. When the magical tree that protects the camp from attacks begins to die, the trio chooses to defy their elders’ orders and go on a quest to save it. To do so, they must travel to the Sea of Monsters and recover the Golden Fleece. Tagging along is Percy’s newly-discovered half-brother, a cyclops named Tyson (Douglas Smith). While Percy wonders if he’s up to the task or simply a one-quest wonder, the cyclops’ presence worries Annabeth.

The problems are immediately recognizable. Percy worries he’s not the hero of legend because he’s only saved the world once? How can anyone relate to his “woe is me” attitude? Similarly, Annabeth not trusting Tyson just doesn’t feel right. It’s pretty obvious her aversion to the one-eyed dummy stems from some past traumatic experience but the film fails to make us understand why she’s all secretive about it. We see cyclopses act villainous but those are big, adult ones that tower over our heroes. Will Tyson even grow up to be that size? He seems too stupid to pose any threat. She simply comes off as racist.

It begins on the wrong foot and from there, things don’t get much better. We learn of a prophecy. We're told a child of the three elder gods will either save Olympus, or destroy it (what’s the alternative?) while battling with Luke Castellan (Jake Abel), the villainous son of Hermes that served as the antagonist of the previous film. I could’ve sworn he was dead, but sure. Now I know what you’re thinking. Hmm. What a coincidence. Didn't we just meet a new son of Poseidon mere moments ago? I won’t say too much but let's put it this way. This is a baaaad screenplay that makes obvious mistakes. Tyson’s part in this story is one of them.

As our heroes travel outside of Camp Half-Blood, they obviously have to travel inconspicuously among Muggles, which means they have to disguise Tyson using a magic potion… that Annabeth brought along with her for no reason? Their means of travel is a discount-version of the Night Bus from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and the price of admission is a torrent of horrible jokes the film thinks are really funny. You tolerate them, always reminding yourself of that titular Sea of Monsters. "Once we get there, things will turn around." I’ve got some bad news for you. There aren’t a whole lot of monsters in this movie and when we encounter them, they’re kraken-sized disappointments. Every confrontation between the heroes and the villains feels like a piece of cake. At least the special effects are pretty good but this whole adventure feels like it’s missing something.

Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters is nothing more than a knockoff of the Harry Potter films. Whether this is the case with the books as well I can’t tell but if it was implied with the last film, it’s cripplingly obvious here. Percy Jackson 2 puts all of its weight on familiar tropes and plot threads like its left leg’s just been chopped off. It can’t even manage to do that right. Numerous plot threads and characters are introduced and given no purpose. This film's intended audience is too smart to fall for such a lacklustre sequel. (February 14, 2020)

#Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #Harry Potter #Thor Freudenthal #Marc Huggenheim #Logan Lerman #Brandon T. Jackson #Alexandra Daddario #Jake Abel #Douglas Smith #Stanley Tucci #2013 movies #2013 films

[only-we]

It was stifling, being among so many people. The streets stank of manure, and not only of the horses, but wolves and human chamber pots too. Her nose scrunched up and she firmly pulled her hood lower. For such a grand place it was filthy, and stripped bare of any natural beauty. There were few trees within the town surrounding the fire King's castle.

Anja waited among others. Some merchants. Most farmers. All seeking an audience with the King himself. It was a day for settling petty disputes and considering requests. By the time it was her turn to enter the throne room, he had already seen perhaps a hundred others.

She padded barefoot. Feet caked in mud and other undesirables, no doubt, and for a moment she paused to simply look around. His halls were larger than any building she had seen in her life. Befitting a King, she supposed, but it all felt so bare and devoid of any warmth. A place for business. Not a home.

"State your name and your business." Miller prompted.

Anja glanced back to him. Her eyes trailing away to instead focus on the King. She did not bow, nor did she curtsey. But she offered a smile.

"I bring a prophecy for him." Her head lifted in motion to the so-called dragon. "You will reduce the world to ashes, that I have seen. Your heirs will fall and your wards will be bled out." Anja shifted, showing both her palms. A small act to convey she meant no harm. "Cast your eyes where the flowers grow. You will find her there. A flower maiden, soft and small. She will break your fate."

Jacob gave little credit and attention to those who claimed to see the future. he always had. because there were more frauds among them than on the illegal markets that flourished in the darkest alleys of any bigger town. They harped on someone's fears and doubts. They fed into them. Nourished what was just small. And with that they slung their strings around their victim, making it their puppet.

Jacob did not intend to end up being a mere puppet to some little wretch.

So after she had finished her 'prophesy', Jacob sat still on his throne for a few more moments. He could hear the soft shuffling of little feet behind his throne. There were a few doorways, one leading to a room where the twins usually resided when he had business here. They read. By a warm fire. He called them sometimes to learn the ropes of leadership here. But they hadn't been called now. Still, they seemed to be drawn in by this woman's presence.

'Stay.'

The thought was an order and one that Jacob was never sure, whether it reached Ariadne and Vergil, but usually their ability grasped for every mind around them. So they better listen. They were safe back there. From attacks and from false fearmongering.

Slowly, Jacob stood to his full height, staring down on this stranger.

She was shrouded in her hood. Looking mysterious. Anonymous.

A sharp grin split his beard.

"A flower maiden you say? Soft and small? And she is to save all of our souls and lives?", he scoffed, his voice deep, resonating in his broad chest. Shaking his head, Jacob threw a brief glance to his sons, who witnessed this all from the sides. They were old enough to know such words meant nothing.

"You did not even state your name, stranger and yet you come here and try to harp on fear and threats of death. Towards me. And my family. That is very thin ice you step upon... and what would you have to gain from doing this, apart from trying to worm your way into a cozy position here as some kind of advisor? I bet you would be just great to find this flower maiden... no doubt a sister of yours. So. Tell me your true business. Your motivations to come here. Or leave without a further word. I have no time for charlatans."

@anjaofthewild

#anjaofthewild #AU | medieval

[suckerpunchfemale]

Chapter Thirty Six Below!!

Also on AO3 & Wattpad

Taglist: @andramoreaux

AEMOND

"I will not mourn you, Viserys," he whispered, his voice filled with pain and anger.

Aemond stood before the unburned pyre of his father, his eyes fixed on the wrapped body.

"You were blinded by love for your daughter, for far too long. You couldn't see past your love for her, to see the ruin she would cast the Realm into." His voice was barely above a whisper. Aemond was furious at the unfair treatment he and his siblings had received at the hands of their father. He couldn't believe that Viserys had been so biased, so blinded by his love for Rhaenyra and her illegitimate children, that he had completely disregarded his own wife and legitimate offspring. The anger and resentment boiled within him.

"You tore apart Mother's friendship with Rhaenyra and then isolated her from everyone," Aemond spat out, his voice filled with anger. "Once she gave you what you wanted, a Queen worthy of the realm, you tossed her aside like she was nothing."

"You placed such favoritism on Rhaenyra's illegitimate offspring, to the extent that you were unconcerned about the permanent injury I suffered at their hands. Your lack of proper paternal conduct, even in the face of such a grave injury to your own flesh and blood, is unacceptable." Aemond hissed, his voice dripping with contempt.

Aemond's heart ached as he spoke, his grief and anger raw and palpable. He was devastated by his father's betrayal. He had always hoped that Viserys would see the error of his ways and come to his senses, but it seemed that was nothing more than a pipe dream.

"You will no hear prayers of peace nor see any tears from me, Viserys. And when your favoured—preferred—daughter lives and dies on that cold island without knowing another kind word or gesture from the Realm you died for, you will know what comes from rejecting the family my mother built for you."

Aemond stepped away from the wrapped body atop the pyre, his heart heavy with grief and anger as he rejoined his family, mere feet from the pyre. He turned to Vhagar and said, "Dragonfire."

Vhagar reared her mighty head back and breathed fire onto the pyre. Aemond stood frozen, watching as his father's body was consumed by the flames. He felt a mix of emotions coursing through him - resentment for the way his father had treated him and his mother, pain at the loss of the man who had once meant to serve as a guiding presence in his life, and grief at the realization that he would never have the chance to tell Viserys exactly what he thought of him. When the ashes were finally swept into an urn, Aemond turned away, following the maesters in a daze.

But before he could take more than a few steps, his mother, Alicent, stopped him. "While you are welcome to grieve in your own way, I must as that you act as Helaena's sworn shield, if only for the day, and escort her through the city," she said, her voice firm. "Ser Criston will act as Aegon's."

Aemond nodded, understanding the importance of his role, to his family and the Realm. And so, he set aside his grief and anger and focused on the task at hand.

Aemond rode on horseback beside Helaena as they made their way through the bustling streets of King's Landing. The crowds cheered and celebrated Aegon's ascension to the throne, but Aemond couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach.

He knew that Rhaenyra still posed a threat to their rule. Until she submitted to their authority, the throne would not be secure. And yet, here they were, parading through the city as if they had already won.

"Why do they cheer?" Aemond muttered to Helaena, gesturing to the crowds lining the streets. "The war is far from over."

Helaena gave him a sad smile. "They want to believe that there is no war. They want to believe that our half-sister simply gave up her birthright in favour of the law of the land. Can you blame them for wanting to find a moment of joy in all that's to come?"

Aemond sighed. He supposed she had a point. But it still didn't sit well with him. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were celebrating too soon. Still, he did his duty as Helaena's sworn shield, riding tall and proud beside her as they made their way through the city.

The knights formed a diamond shape around the new King Aegon II and his Queen Helaena as they marched through the streets of King's Landing, fanfare playing as they moved. Flowers were thrown to celebrate their ascension, and the small folk who lined the streets cheered and offered gifts to the new Queen.

King Aegon waved wildly, accepting every gift offered with a broad grin on his face. His attendants placed the gifts in the cart that followed them, and the people who had come out to greet the couple cheered and clapped as the procession made its way through the city.

Among the gifts offered to the new Queen were baskets of fruit, bouquets of flowers, and handmade trinkets. There were even small children who offered their own toys, their faces filled with joy and excitement at the opportunity to meet their new queen.

Everyone was happy and excited, and the atmosphere was one of celebration and joy.

Ser Criston made his way over to Aemond as they entered the courtyard of the Keep. "Your dragon burned the pyre well," he said, a look of admiration on his face. "You shouldn't be so down about it."

Aemond shook his head. "Vhagar has never disappointed me once in our time together," he said, his voice filled with pride.

"Then what ails you, my prince?" Ser Criston asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

Aemond sighed, thinking of the exhaustion that weighed on him, and the restless night that had preceded the longest day he had come to know. Hunting Aegon down, crowning Aegon, Rhaenys escaping and nearly killing his family, the funeral pyre, and then the unnecessary parade.

"I didn't sleep well last night," he admitted. Without Aesira to warm his bed, he wasn't sure if he could ever sleep peacefully again. He hadn't realised how much he'd come to rely on the warmth of her body to cradle him to sleep until he embarked on this day without a wink of sleep.

Ser Criston remarked on the varied ways in which death can impact different people. However, Aemond was certain that his own sadness had nothing to do with his father's passing, and everything to do with Aesira's departure. He was unable to find any sense of peace or comfort in his lonely and frigid bed, his thoughts consumed by Aesira and the longing he felt for her.

Aemond couldn't help but reflect on the events of the previous night. He had made his rounds, checking in on Aegon and Helaena before heading to Aesira's chambers. When he arrived, however, he discovered that their tower in Maegor's Holdfast had been sealed off. In hindsight, it was clear that this was done to prevent anyone from informing Rhaenyra about Viserys' death.

Aemond was frustrated and hurt when he learned that Aesira had left without saying anything to him. He had been hoping to repair the damage to their relationship that had occurred in the dining hall and was disappointed that she had chosen to leave without giving him the chance to make amends.

He just couldn't understand why she would leave without at least discussing things with him, and the thought of her leaving him without a proper resolution just soured his mood even more.

Feeling dejected and full of remorse, Aemond headed to the Great Hall, where King Aegon and his Queen, were holding a feast to celebrate the start of Aegon's reign. Despite the festive atmosphere, he couldn't stop thinking about how he had let Aesira down and knew that he needed to find a way to reconcile with her and make things right between them.

As Aemond watched the festivities in the Great Hall, he noticed his mother and grandsire slip away with the small council members, leaving the celebration behind. Suddenly, Aegon approached him and gestured to a line of women standing nearby.

"These are the eligible women of note and stature in King's Landing," Aegon told Aemond. "I want you to find a bride. I can't have you moping around any longer."

Aemond looked at the eager faces of the women standing before him. He couldn't help but compare them to Aesira. One woman had hair that was too red, another had cheeks that were too plump, and a third had a waist that was too slender. None of them seemed to measure up to his wife in his eyes.

Just as he was about to reject them all, Ser Criston spoke up. "Your Grace, we are fortunate that Prince Aemond has not yet taken a bride. Perhaps your brother could be used to form a political alliance instead."

Aegon chuckled apologetically at the women who seemed genuinely disappointed about not being chosen by Aemond.

"Don't worry, ladies," he said, waving them off. "There are plenty of other eligible men in the kingdom. I'm sure you'll find someone just as suitable."

Aemond watched the exchange with a sense of detachment, his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of Aesira.

"Ser Criston," he said, turning to the knight. "I'm going to patrol the Blackwater Bay on Vhagar. After Rhaenys' escape, we can only assume that Rhaenyra will send a response soon. I'd rather not be caught unaware."

"I'll have a man posted in the watchtower," Ser Criston replied, nodding in agreement. "If you see anything, signal us."

"If you see Rhaenyra," Aegon called out to Aemond as he left the Great Hall, "use Vhagar to 'remove' the threat!" He chuckled at his own joke, but Aemond barely registered the comment as he made his way to his chambers.

He needed to change out of his finery and into his riding leathers before setting off on patrol. As he entered his chambers, he was surprised to see Alis setting up his small table with food from the Great Hall.

"I thought you might be hungry," Alis said, uneasily. "You didn't touch your food at the feast."

Aemond sighed and shook his head. "I'm not really hungry, Alis. I have too much on my mind."

Aemond almost ignored Alis' suggestion to eat something, but she insisted that he at least try the cranberries. Confused, Aemond peered over to the bowl of berries and noticed a small folded square between the berries and the flagon of wine.

Curious, he picked up the bowl and took the letter behind his room divider, placing the bowl atop his armoire. He unfolded the letter and began to read, his eyes widening with shock as he took in the contents.

"Lord Otto has taken Aesira and holds her in a place we know not where," the letter read. "We're scouring the Keep and aim to know her location within the turn of the moon. Hold fast, my Prince. She is not lost to us yet."

#blood of old valyria #aemond targaryen #aemond hotd #aemond x oc #aemond ff update #aemond fanfic #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic

[mprojects22]

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