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#since hes a servant who is post death
bet-on-me-13 · 2 months
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Reincarnation AU but it's not Danny
So! In basically every single Reincarnation AU I've seen, it's always Danny who gets reincarnated as a DC character. Sometimes it's Jazz, other times it's his Friends, but it never really strays from them. And I think we've been ignoring some people...
The Ancients! Danny is always reincarnated as a "Vacation" from his Ghost King Duties, so why not give the same courtesy to the other Ancients?
Specifically, Fright Knight.
Fright Knight has been a loyal servant and Knight of his Master for Millenia. Ever since he first formed as the Autumn Spirit, the Embodiment of Fear, the Fright Knight, he had declared his Servitude to the Ghost King, whomever it may be at the time. And he stayed in that position, through the passing of the Crown, through the Violent Coups, through every single Ghost King who had taken to the mantle. He was their Loyal Knight. Never Wavering. Never leaving their side.
Until Pariah Dark, but that situation was different. No previous King had even tried to take the human world before.
Thankfully, Pariah had only taken the Throne for a mere 5000 years, so he had not had to put up with him for long, and much of that time was with him stuck in his Coffin. That was the first time Fright Knight had ever left his Masters Side.
Then, that insolent Halfa he had met before came into the picture and Fright Knight had a new master.
King Phantom was...different.
Perhaps it was his remaining Humanity poking through? Or was it was the influence of the Human Realm that he still regularly visited? Or maybe he was simply just a Good Person, and there was no deeper meaning behind it?
Either way, Fright Knight noticed that he cared for his subjects in a far deeper manner than any previous king had. He had personal connections with as many Ghosts as he could, and often called the Ghosts he ruled his, Friends. It warmed his Long Frozen Core to see a King valuing his Subjects as much as he did.
He did not realize that the kindness Phantom extended to his people, also extended to himself.
One day, Phantom had been discussing his Human Life with some of his friends. Not his First Life, but his most recent Vacation. Over the Eons since he had taken the Throne, Phantom had been encouraged to take a Vacation every once in a while. It was not healthy for a Ghost to work non-stop like he did, especially for a Halfa.
It was not an uncommon practice in the Realms, many would take a break from the Endlessness of Death to embrace Life once more through Reincarnation. Although, many were too weak to retain their memories upon their second Forming. Mostly, it was Ancients or Kings who would use this as a Vacation, rather than a New Beginning.
There came a break in the conversation, and King Phantom turned his attention to his Knight. "Frighty, when was the last time you Reincarnated? Pandora did so recently, and it got me thinking."
"I have not taken leave of my post for thr Eons since my Forming, My Lord" Replied the Knight with Pride.
"What? You haven't taken a Break since you formed!? Frighty! That's not Healthy!" Exclaimed his King.
This lead to a whole conversation about how unhealthy his lifestyle was, which was another quirk of his Master. He cared for his Sunjects beyond their happiness.
"Fright Knight, as your King and as your Friend, I implore you to take a Vacation. It doesn't have to be forever, just a simple Human Lifespan, but please take a break, for your own Good."
And how could he refuse a request like that? One based in the kindness that his Majesty always showed his Subjects.
It took a few more years to finally iron out the plan for his Vacation, but what are a few years in the face of Eternity?
Finally, it came time to take his leave to the Mortal Realm, and to Life itself.
"Farewell, my Leige." Bowed Fright Knight, "I thank you for this opportunity."
"There's no need to thank me. Now go, and have fun, My Dark Knight."
...
That day, in Gotham General Hospital, a baby was born.
"What will you name him?" Asked the Doctor.
"I think I'll call him..." Began the need Mother, "...Bruce. Bruce Wayne."
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cartoonist-in-theory · 4 months
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You’re walking down a long quiet road. It’s winter, snow covers the ground, the sky fades gray. All around you are trees that have long since dropped their leaves, cold and dead, waiting for spring. You stop beneath one, eye caught by a striking sight. Amid the bare branches you see a round bundle of stunning green leaves. Hanging down above you are dozens of beautiful little pearly white berries. The fruit tempts you, but you don’t dare touch. Instead you simply admire them. Life among the dead of winter. Mistletoe.
@slocotion Hi, here is my design for slocotion's patreon dyo doll contest. Her name is Haustoria of the Pale. I was very excited to put this together once it struck me. I thought of all my favorite fruits I could have used but then inspiration hit me as I was considering less common fruits and fungi. Mistletoe is used medicinally by some but the entire plant, including its cute white berries, is toxic. Since this is a longer post, I’ll include more notes on my design under a cut but to point out the most important thing, I’ve combined the nature of the toxic berries with some historical+mythological inspiration that I think echoes it nicely.
In Norse mythology, a well known story is that of the death of Baldr. Baldr was the most loved god of the Aesir, so when a vision of his death reached his parents Odin and Frigga, they did all they could to protect him. Frigga sent her servants all over the world to make every creature and thing vow to never harm a hair on Baldr’s head. All but mistletoe promised, too insignificant or too young to make the vow. After it was done, Bladr seemed invincible. Since nothing was willing to hurt him, the gods would sometimes gather around and throw things at him, watching everything bounce off without injuring him. Loki, jealous of the love and affection that was always paid to Baldr, came up with a plan to get rid of him. He had an arrow made of mistletoe and brought it to Baldr’s blind brother Hodr. He gave it to him to throw at Baldr as all the gods pelted him with objects and weapons. Hodr threw the arrow and, since mistletoe had never promised not to harm him, it pierced his chest, killing him instantly... And so Baldr was delivered to the depths of the land of the dead, looked over by Hel.
specific design notes under the cut thank you for looking!
Mistletoe is a very interesting plant to me. It’s not a tree or vine or bush, but instead its an evergreen parasite. The sticky seeds attach themselves to the branches and grow into it with a haustorium, which is a structure that lets them sap nutrients from the host plant. Haustoria’s name is a reference to this structure. “of the Pale” is a reference to not only the color of the berries but the pale gray and white landscape of winter.
Mistletoe berries are heavily toxic but also exist in winter, when other plants may be barren and “dead.” Because of that and their parasitic nature I see them as a sweet little balance of life and death. In addition to that, I use the split colors of the face/mask of Haustoria to reference the goddess of the land of the dead, Hel, who is described as having a body that is half black as death, split down the middle.
The structure of the outfit is inspired by Scandinavian and specifically Norwegian folk dresses, since I’m borrowing old Norse history for more inspiration, it seemed fitting. I also felt the style would be good to accompany the botanical and berry designs attractively.
The twin peaked hood is to further split the design down the middle, with little charms to show life and death.
I included white beads all over the outfit to represent the mistletoe berries themselves so they could stand out.
The dark side of her face is adorned with thorns and has three mournful black tears leaking down from her eye, as well as a hollow half of the center heart.
The light side is blushed and lively with shiny eyes, leaves shaped like the mistletoe leaves, red petals like the mistletoe blooms, three white dots to be the mistletoe fruit, and the center heart is full.
Her cape is white on the inside to represent the white of the berries and also the white of snow.
To cap it off, I do believe mistletoe is fitting for a plague doctor as they are still used medicinally to this day. :)
Thank you for reading everything and looking at my design! I’m very proud of her and I hope she doesn’t stretch the theme. And definitely more than anything else I hope you enjoy looking at her!
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srjlvr · 6 months
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SEVEN ROYALTIES
7 brothers. 7 new kings. 7 new thrones. 7 love stories.
note. im a bit early to do this, but we’re getting closer to 1.5k followers so i decided to drop it! i cant believe i am able to reach this amount of followers honestly! this is a special series to show you how thankful i am. i wouldn’t be here without y’all.
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THE seven brothers of hybe’s kingdom will be getting each a new throne and kingdom of their own to rule, and each one gets a love story of his own too.
GENREs will be included in each member’s story and so are the WARNINGS and WORD-COUNTS.
TAG-LIST ; i’ll consider this tag-list to all members, send me an ask or comment on this post if you’d like to join.
PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz , @ohdudehesflirting
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lee heeseung x fem!reader genre: strangers to lovers , commoner and a royal , fluff , angst ! warnings: loads of curse words.
you always knew your short temper will be a disadvantage, but you never thought that moment will happen when it came to a royal blood.
“watch where you’re going!” you yelled at the person who just bumped into you, “my apologies madam, perhaps i can offer you some sweet cookies as an apology?” he smiled.
you laughed at the nickname and the cute offer, “people don’t offer here cookies just because they want to apologize, are you new in town?”
he then shook his head, “you keep your things to yourself if you don’t want people to keep asking you for favors”
you ran before the person could even reply, “didn’t she realize who is she talking to?”
STATUS posted!
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park jay x fem!reader genre: arranged marriage , one sided love at first , angst , fluff ! warnings: curse words , mentions of food (nothing serious, just dinner breakfast and all) , uhh dunno if it’s really a warning but just a rude behavior.
it’s been a few months since your huge wedding held in the castle, “i’ve married to you only because of the fact that i need to marry off to someone to get the throne” your newly husband groaned.
he’s been telling you the same sentence each time you remind him that you’re actually a married couple.
you’ve been taking care of him when he got sick, made him meals and even did most of the laundry, regardless of the fact that you have tons of servants.
jay has been ignoring you all day and all night ever since you first met, even ordered that you must have separated rooms.
but all it took for him to understand that he so longed for you, is to see you walk away. now, he’s determined to bring you back and love you all over again.
STATUS posted!
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sim jake x fem!reader genre: strangers to lovers , fake relationship , he fell first but she fell harder , runaway royals , fluff , angst ! warnings: mentions of pregnancy(nothing serious i promise trust me) , mentions of food (not specifically, just meals).
your beauty is beyond compare, and you know that. your parents knows that too. which is why they’ve been forcing you to go on dates with filthy princes who wants nothing but to use you and your beauty as a trophy.
you hate that, being treated as an object in the eyes of other people. so you ran away. where? you didn’t know, but you packed your bag and left the house in the late late hours.
what you didn’t expect however, was to get caught by another runaway prince.
“who are you?” you suspiciously asked. “i’m sorry madam, let me introduce myself, i’m sim jake, hybe’s-“
“hybe’s prince” you gasped, “and you are?” he shrugged off the fact that you just cut him in the middle of the sentence.
“i’m l/n y/n—“ “the runaway princess?”
STATUS posted!
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park sunghoon x fem!reader genre: childhood friends to enemies to lovers , one sided love somewhere into the story , heavy angst , fluff ! warnings: character’s death (not a main character) , curse words.
sunghoon has everything, wealth, power, a throne. but none of these matters when he can’t have you by his side.
“i hate you, park sunghoon” you spit out, nothing but hate is in your fierce glance at him. he just chuckled, “you don’t mean that”
“oh i do,” you nodded, “and i’m only doing it because i promised her it’ll happen”
“looking back at that promise, i realize why you used to believe that promises are stupid” you added.
“i’m sorry” he apologized, “sorry isn’t going to change anything, is it?”
STATUS posted!
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kim sunoo x fem!reader genre: mistakenly falling in love , strangers to lovers , fluff , a bit of angst ! warnings: none atm.
the ballroom was full with young royals who are there the celebrate ni-ki’s birthday, the youngest out of the seven brothers.
it was a NO ADULTS party and therefore, the king and the queen ( aka the parents ) tried to describe him who is he going to marry. it was a pretty obvious force marriage.
“you’ll know it when you see her, she’s awfully pretty” they said.
“i’m l/n y/n” you introduced yourself with a curtsy, sunoo took your hand and kissed the back of it, “you look awfully pretty, y/n”
“oh! her name is minju!” right after the party, the queen and the king reminded sunoo that the girl he’s off to marry is named minju.
STATUS posted!
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yang jungwon x fem!reader genre: childhood friends to lovers , promised to marry , fluff , angst ! warnings: none atm.
you’ve known jungwon ever since you can remember. his castle is considered your second home and your castle is considered his second home.
you were pretty confident in your friendship, until you became teenagers and things started to fade away between you two.
he knows you’re promised to him, so why was he so unconfident about it when he saw you talking to other princes?
and you know he’s promised to you, so why do you feel like crying when he’s being introduced to other princesses as well?
STATUS coming soon!!
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nishimura riki x fem!reader genre: troublemakers falling in love , strangers to lovers , dumb and dumber relationship , fluff , angst ! warnings: none atm.
you were some kind of the black sheep in your family, always breaking rules and doing what you’re clearly not supposed to do. you love your freedom.
you heard about a prince who’s just exactly as you are, and you’re more than eager to meet him.
“are you…?” in one of your usual sneak outs, you bumped into a familiar face, “am i…?” he mocked.
“never mind” you shrugged, “i thought you were nishimura riki”
“i thought you’re l/n y/n” he chuckled, it was too dark for the both of you to see each other. “so who are you?” you asked, “nishimura riki, you?”
“l/n y/n”
STATUS coming soon!!
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lyomeii · 1 year
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motherly figure
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-> warnings: yandere theme, platonic relationship, death threats, spoilers
->request by anon! May I get platonic yandere Callisto with a mother figure reader? Like hcs of him as a child with a mother figure who took care of him, also some with him aged up (the age difference is like 7 years)
->a/n: loved writing this one :) and sorry for not posting soon, got into a small discussion with my family, but that’s okay and we are doing great now. hope you enjoy this one!
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-> daughter of two servants of the royal palace, you knew the previous empress during her pregnancy, not because your mother or dad were closer to her, but you were quite a curious kid without much thing to do in your free time.
-> the empress knew that and not reluctantly or thinking twice, she grown quite closer to you, talking with you and teaching you how to write and read, something that you never told anyone not even your parents.
-> lovely the time you spend with the empress and when her baby was born, you were happy to see the boy whose appearance charmed you easily. golden hair and eyes that remember you of rubies, such unique looks that make you wonder if someone like him truly exist.
-> when the empress died and the emperor got married to a new one then another child came into the family, you began taking care of callisto on your own after you asked to become his personal maid, regardless of what your parents told you, you still at his side whatever happen in the future.
-> the little boy is grateful for having someone like you in his life, he hears stories from his biological mother from you and often stare at you with such admiration, you remind him of an angel, a guardian that protect him from the many dangerous he gets into.
-> raising callisto with the empress trying to kill him isn’t easy, but you managed to keep his innocent intact and made him thinking that his stepmother is just a different woman from his biological mother and prefer to be by herself with her son. He believed in that until the that hunter competition.
-> the murder attempt on him and seeing the faces of the people who he trusted are what make him realize how dark this world is. callisto can’t and will not trust anyone, yet you are the only exception.
-> you raised him, took care of him, cleaned his wounds and placed him bed when he couldn’t walk due to fear while reading stories to calm him down, just a mother does to her son. He even calls you that way when you are both alone, much to your dismay and to his happiness.
-> that little boy grow up to idolize you as his mother, someone who always cared about him since the beginning and will be there to protect him until the day he become the one to stand in the front as your guardian.
-> others aren’t dumb either, many knows how the crown prince is closer to you and are afraid to even standing in the same room with you, fearing for what might happen to them if they ever came closer to you.
-> lovely to say that none dares to attack you, not even the empress and her son, as much they desire to you gone, they know the consequences if they do that.
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@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost
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spacebarbarianweird · 2 months
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HC of Astarion x fem Elf Tav who’s a Druid, more specifically of the Circle of The Spores subclass. She wears skirts and dresses of dark teals and blacks with gold embroidery and legs round gold glasses, always travels with herbs and roots in her pockets and pouches, and is never afraid to raise an army of the fungal infested undead for the hell of it. Basically she’s the healer who puts on a neutral front but is begging for the chance to rightfully unleash chaos and destruction
Hi! Oh, this is a nice design of a character! And I am sucker for elf!Tav because they can live for many centuries. And Spore Circle is absolutely badass. It turned out to be weird, creepy and bittersweet and I hope you like it! I also tag @tolkien-fantasy since they love Spore Druids.
Astarion x Spore Circle Druid!Tav
There is a thing about Spore Druids.
Unlike your colleagues, you don't particularly hate the undead.
If anything, your magic is about death, too.
Mold and fungi transform lifeless material into something new and weird.
Death isn't the end, it's just a new stage.
The problem with the undead is that they often wish things would stay the same and never change.
Which is unnatural.
Life is about growth and death is about transformation.
You encourage Astarion to heal and grow.
The worst thing about his past was stability and the belief nothing was going to change.
But somehow he preserved his personality and now he slowly demonstrates his ability to "live" in his undeath.
Though, you scare him a bit.
You can resurrect the dead with spores, turning them into zombies, alive and dead, hungry and terrifying.
You infect the corpses and transform them into your loyal servants.
And you can use the same spores to make your enemies blind, deaf, or paralyzed.
Astarion calls you a walking hotbed of plague.
Though, of course, he is in awe - mostly because everything you do is between life and death, which is the stage he himself is stuck in.
But your magic is beautiful.
Mushrooms growing on dead bodies.
Mold desecrating the food.
Fungi bringing life to the most desolate places.
Post-game, Astarion doubts whether to go with you, but you assure him that the Spore Circle will accept him due to his ability to change.
You study the fungi to find answers to your questions and his problems.
The spores can make him more like a living person.
They can protect him from the sun, and they can let him eat normal food.
The prospect scares Astarion - he's seen the infected corpses. It's creepy.
And what if this magic fungi takes over his mind?
You don't insist. It's his choice, after all.
And you are an elf yourself, you have plenty of time.
But the life in the shadows and hunger take a toll on Astarion.
He doesn't want to be an undead. He wants to be alive.
And if his vampirism can't be cured, why not let nature change him?
At least, if you promise his personality won't be affected.
It won't, you are sure of that.
Astarion lets you infect him with the spores.
This transformation is nothing like becoming a vampire.
It's soft, gentle, warm.
Astarion feels like dreaming, sleeping in a warm bed.
The only thing he acknowledges is your presence. You check on him all the time sometimes meditating close to his "fungi grave".
It take almost a year for spores to finish their job, reconstructing his dead flesh.
A lonely year of being alone in your bed.
When Astarion wakes up, he doesn't feel the hunger anymore.
The sun doesn't burn him and he stays in the sunlight for hours before you come to take him home.
The symbiotic fungi has restored his organs to the point where they functioned as they are supposed to.
Astarion is scared to see himself in the mirror - but when he does he sees himself.
Though, there are some changes.
There are golden spots of spores in is eyes and barely visible cobwebs on his legs and arms.
And he is warm. He is so warm.
With his newfound "life", Astarion gets some new abilities, similar to the ones you have.
He can cast spores and rise up the dead, infecting them.
He can hear the fungi songs, connecting his mind with this ancient entity.
And he can feel you.
You know each other thoughts, each other intentions, and presence.
He always knows where you are. He feels your emotions, your sorrows and happiness and you feel him the same way.
You are more than thiramins, more than lovers.
But the best gift the spores gave to Astarion is mortality.
One day, the fungi will slowly take over his body and mind, transforming the flesh once again, bringing him mor, the final death.
And if you are still alive by this moment, you will let spores take over you so you can be together in this next stage of life and death.
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce
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Noncanonicals Tournament FINAL
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This final is between Han Ying from Word of Honor (shizun/mentor: Zhou Zishu) and Fang Duobing from Mysterious Lotus Casebook (shizun/mentor: Li Xiangyi / Li Lianhua)
Propaganda under the cut! (Warning: Propaganda may include spoilers about the characters and their media)
Han Ying:
He idolized and was mentored by Zhou Zishu to the point of recruiting other young martial artists to revive ZZS’s dying sect and willing to die live happily ever after for it.
#han ying wants to fuck zhou zishu SO BAD#han ying#shizunfucker tournament
#my sweet ying'er wants to fuck zzs so bad he's gagging for it
#HAN YING HANDS DOWN#would have licked his boots if he asked
#han ying wanted nothing more than to officially become zzs's student/part of his sect#it was literally his dying wish that his brothers in arms may get to do that#he says several times in the show to zzs's very face that he's 100% down for dying for him#he swears allegiance EXCLUSIVELY to zzs and not the prince they're all serving#he comes up with bangers like 'if there is anything you need I will lay down my life with no regret'#'if you were gone one day how could I live alone'#'a loyal servant wouldn't have two masters in his life'#he sneaks into zzs's abandoned residence and homoerotically-#-strokes the painting of a flower that symbolizes a) zzs himself b) zzs's grief for being the lone survivor of his sect#and he wanted to join siji so so badly#it was his life's dream and he died IN siji but before getting to have that 😭#listen he makes me insane#anyway they should have fucked sloppy style and zzs would have had an out of body experience if hy called him shizun#my final thesis goodbye
#it's HAN YING#you could power entire nations with the power of that yearning
#han ying saw zhou zishu and IMMEDIATELY dropped to his knees are you joking#wen kexing immediately clocked him
#ying'er my sweet prince#he wants the dick so badly
Fang Duobing:
Fang Duobing has most definitely had several fantasies of being dommed by his shifu Li Xiangyi! He is also equally invested in marrying Li Lianhua - travelling the jianghu, going on rooftop moonlit dates, incorporating looking after him forever and ever into his general future plans. This is even before he knows that Li Lianhua and Li Xiangyi are the same person. Oh there are Layers to the shizunfucking. Where's that post about being so devoted to someone that it breaks the pedestal they're put on and comes full circle to loving them for the person they are? (its here: https://www.tumblr.com/difeisheng/733133489565745152/the-core-of-fanghua-is-built-around-fang-duobings) When they finally do get to know each other 10 years later, after Li Xiangyi's identity is found out, Fang Duobing insists on being equals rather than master-and-disciple! Li lianhua is Fang Duobing’s guide in the Jianghu! He leaves his house, dog and the only records of his unique martial arts to Fang Duobing before running away!! Fang Duobing’s most important agenda is to save Li Lianhua from slow death by poison!!! He doesn't care if Li Lianhua keeps leaving him behind and lying to him and is 'at peace' with dying!! They live together. They'll never be equals. They've been equals all along. They're zhiji. They're master and disciple. they're married. They're everything.
#this man wanted to fuck his shizun under two whole ass different identities#this man was given one million choices between his shizun and his entire cushy rich boi life and did not sweat the decision even once#this man was engaged to a princess - who was COOL - and went “no thanks i’d rather follow shizun around in a fantasy china airstream’
#this cannot not be fang duobing let's be serious#polls#he's been drawing hearts around his shizun's name since age 8
#Fang Duobing going through it for what he thinks is two different people but is just one guy#so he gets my vote easy
#pls he is head employee at shizunfucker.co
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flurrys-creativity · 4 months
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Warrior
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Pairing: Choi San (Ateez) x Fem!OC Yeong-Ja
Genre: Joseon AU, Historical AU, Fantasy, Shifter AU, Werewolf AU, strangers to lovers, romance, angst, fluff, SMUT
Rating: nsfw, 18+
Warnings: concubines, hints of misogyny, somewhat sold off, inaccurate historical stuff, San from his special performance warrior video including the tattoos, shifter San with a very demanding inner wolf, mentions of sex, getting a tattoo the old style (which is probably inaccurate as well), mentions of uproars, death (minor ocs), san murdering them, graphic violence, graphic description of injuries, san being chained to his bed, SMUT -> rough sex, unprotected sex, marking, biting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, several positions, breeding kink, knotting, mating, pet names, mentions of softer sex... and that should hopefully be it 🤔
Wordcount: 11.482
A/N: Ever since that special performance video of Warriors by San came out, I'm a changed person!! I wrote this chonky one within one weekend while playing the video on loop. AND NOW I'm finally posting this!!! While it's an OC for once - which has still extremely vague descriptions - I still hope to get some interactions. So please have fun reading this and tell me what you think!
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Yeong-Ja got ushered into a room by several servants, who told her to stay there until the emperor would arrive. Before she could even ask when that would be the door got shut right in front of her nose, leaving her alone.
With a heavy sigh Yeong-Ja turned around and took a closer look at the room in front of her. While it definitely appeared luxurious - the room was basically as big as her old home - but except for a large bed there wasn’t much inside the room. It didn’t even have windows. There was only another sliding door, which probably led to the private quarters of the emperor.
Yeong-Ja stood in the middle of the room unsure what she was supposed to do besides waiting for the emperor. Should she stand somewhere specific or sit on the bed? She knew what was expected of her yet she couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact she had become a concubine in the span of only a few hours.
That morning Yeong-Ja had woken up and gone out to town since the market was open and she had hoped to buy a few things for her family. So while she bargained with one of the sellers, she got approached by a tall man in fancy clothes.
“Excuse me”, he said with an awkward smile, “I’d like to have a conversation with someone, who speaks for you.”
Yeong-Ja raised an eyebrow, forgetting the little quarrel with the seller as she turned towards the man and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I’m able to speak for myself, sir.”
A twinkle in his eyes and the soft chuckle revealed his amusement even after he focused himself again with a short shake of his head. “I’d still like to inform your husband or any kind of relative that you’re chosen to become a concubine.”
For a split second everything around Yeong-Ja stopped. She stared at the stranger with wide eyes, needing several seconds to register what he just said. Once the heaviness of the message fought through and settled into her mind, her whole world started to crumble. She nodded almost mechanically as she asked the man to follow her, cutting her time at the market short.
Even when she brought him to his parents and sat beside them in the small dining area, somewhat listening to the words he had to say, her thoughts had travelled to a different place. While Yeong-Ja wasn’t the only woman at her age unmarried, it was rather uncommon. Her headstrong attitude and the fact she came from a poorer family were the reasons why she hadn’t been married yet. Though it hadn’t been a problem in her family, Yeong-Ja was incredibly thankful for that since she loved her independence. 
“If you want to take something with you, Miss Yeong-Ja, now would be the time to get it.” The stranger, who had himself introduced as Park Seonghwa the head counsellor of the emperor, looked at her. A hint of pity and understanding swirling in his dark eyes. 
Her mother had followed her to the sleeping area, laying a hand on her shoulder. She had tears in her eyes as she pulled her daughter into her arms. “You’ll have a better life at the palace”, she whispered and caressed the back of the younger woman. “Please take this with you.” With that her mother let go of her and walked over to a small cabinet. She pulled a box out from the farthest end and turned back to Yeong-Ja. “This was a gift from your great grandfather to your great grandmother. It’s supposed to be a lucky item. Wear it to receive the blessings -” she swallowed the lump inside her throat, her voice sounding choked up - “and to remember us.”
Yeong-Ja hiccuped as she accepted the gift with trembling fingers. She looked down at the fine silver necklace in her hands, seeing one turquoise stone added as a pendant. She closed her hands and clutched them against her chest, whispering her thanks while tears streamed down her cheeks.
Now inside the luxurious bedroom Yeong-Ja fumbled with the dozens of layers of clothes to reach for the pendant. She wrapped her fingers around the turquoise and felt the calm energy spreading throughout her body. With no way back she could only look ahead.
She noticed a bowl of water and several towels on a nightstand close to the bed. Yeong-Ja walked closer to the bowl, leaning over it and staring at her own reflection. She barely recognised herself and a frown appeared on her features. 
That ghost-like face looking back at her wasn’t the woman she wanted to be. While the make-up looked magnificent and had been applied with the utmost care by the servants, Yeong-Ja couldn’t help herself but to hate it. She knew noble women liked to appear paler to show they didn’t work on fields in the sun, but Yeong-Ja was born and raised on such fields. She had a natural tan skin and any other colour made her look sick.
Without a second thought Yeong-Ja pushed the fabrics up her arms and dunked her hands into the bowl, cupping them and splashing water into her face. She rubbed her face meticulously and hoped to get rid of all the white make-up plastered on her skin.
Once she deemed her face clean, Yeong-Ja grabbed a towel and patted her skin dry. Her face already felt much lighter without all the make-up. Although the minute Yeong-Ja looked down at her body and saw all the layers of fancy fabric she felt like a fool again. Her face didn’t match this dress anymore. Yeong-Ja pursed her lips and brushed the sleeves of the fabric back down, feeling uncomfortable in all these layers. The young woman looked over her shoulder to the two closed doors, contemplating whether she should risk it and change or just stay put.
She swallowed and tried to listen intently to the sounds outside of the room. When she wasn’t able to pick up any words or steps, she decided to take the risk. 
Yeong-Ja fumbled with the fabrics and the knots that held everything in place. It took her every ounce of self control to stay patient and not rip everything apart. Once she finally got rid of every layer and only stood in the finest silk underwear in the middle of the room, Yeong-Ja thought she was able to breathe again.
She bent down and started folding all the fabrics, placing them neatly in front of the nightstand. Yeong-Ja only kept the outer piece and a few pins. She draped the fabric over her body and secured it with the pins.
When Yeong-Ja was brought into the bedroom, the emperor - Choi San - arrived at the throne room. He barely kept the sigh inside his lungs when he saw Seonghwa waiting for him.
“Another victory, huh?” Seonghwa stepped next to San, trying to contain his grin. He could read San like a book and knew how annoyed his emperor was already.
“Which means another concubine.” San plopped down on the throne. He pushed his hair back with his hand before he fixed his eyes on the older man. “Why is the court getting a concubine every time I come back from a battle? They’re running away in the end.”
“Now, now. You make it out as if every concubine has fled so far. You still have a thriving harem, San.”
San only rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, resting his chin on his hand. “Anything else I should know before I tell the servants to bring the new concubine to their quarters?” San only wanted to get a bath in peace, wanted to wash off all the grime and blood from the battlefield. He needed to rest and regain his strength again. San had used almost all of his power to keep the intruders in check and only with the help of his wolf was he able to overpower them.
“This one is different. Take at least a look at her.” 
San zoned back into the conversation and shook his head. Whatever Seonghwa had told him just now, San only heard the last two sentences. He grimaced but decided to wave it off for now. With a dismissive hand gesture San got up from the throne and walked to the hidden door behind it. “I’ll think about it”, he told Seonghwa before he bid his goodbye and followed the wooden path towards his private quarters.
A servant rushed to his side, offering their assistance. They nodded in understanding with each order - preparing a bath and bringing the new concubine to their quarters - they received. 
San opened the door to his private bedroom and closed it right behind him again. He trotted towards the bathroom and started stripping out of his clothes, which needed to be washed as well. 
A sudden scream followed by frantic yelling, interrupted San in his undressing. Without regard to his appearance the emperor rushed towards the disturbance. He slammed the door to the concubine bedroom open and hurriedly stepped inside, his eyes jumping from corner to corner. San was ready to fight but except for a servant and a woman he never saw before he couldn’t sense any danger. “Wha-”
“I am so sorry, my emperor. I didn’t mean to disturb you with my yelling. I just wanted to take the concubine to her quarters when I saw what she did.” The servant bowed deeply as they apologised over and over again.
“Please”, San only said in a stern voice, successfully shutting up the servant. He looked around the room again, trying to understand what the servant meant. He inhaled deeply when a sudden wave hit his senses.
‘Smells good’, his wolf hummed, forcing San to inhale again. He even closed his eyes, focusing solely on the sweet scent invading his nose. When he opened his eyes again, they immediately landed on the new concubine.
Yeong-Ja had crossed her arms in front of her chest. She felt embarrassed for screaming when the servant tapped her shoulder. She hadn’t noticed them coming into the room and yelped in surprise from the sudden touch. Yeong-Ja also felt embarrassed for being scolded so harshly. While she had expected to get scolded, she had pictured it to be the emperor himself.
Her eyes fell on the man who had entered the room as well. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks when Yeong-Ja saw the half-naked form of him. Involuntarily her eyes wandered over his toned upper body and well defined muscles. She took the tattoos adorning his body in as well, fascinated by the intricate painting of a wolf’s head on his left pec.
As her eyes continued to wander over his body she finally reached his face. The air inside her lungs nearly got stuck when Yeong-Ja saw the intense gaze on her. She locked eyes with him and the feeling of being a small prey spread throughout her whole body. 
San glanced at the servant, telling them they were dismissed, before his eyes landed on the new concubine again. 
His wolf rumbled inside of him, growling something about having found their mate. He eagerly wanted to cross the distance and get to the woman, wanted to touch her, smell her, scent her, take her and most importantly breed her.
San’s fingers twitched as he fought to keep control over his own body. Seonghwa’s words played in his mind again, while San stared at the woman in front of him. He noticed how she wasn’t turned into a doll-like human like all the other concubines before her. He also noticed how the clothes around her body weren’t as neatly placed. 
‘Easier access’, his wolf nearly howled, keen with the choices that were made.
Yeong-Ja could have sworn she was on fire from the intensity of his gaze but at the same time one ice cold shiver after another ran down her spine. She could feel her heart pounding inside of her ribcage.
“May I know your name?”
The soft voice of the emperor - even though it sounded slightly strangled - surprised Yeong-Ja. She would love to simply listen to him all day, every day. “Yeong-Ja”, she introduced herself, bowing slightly in hopes it was enough courtesy towards the emperor.
San repeated her name, same as his inner wolf, getting a feeling of it on his tongue. “That is a beautiful name”, he complimented her as he suppressed another attempt of his wolf to pounce on her. “Have you been waiting for a long time?”
Yeong-Ja blinked several times, thinking about the question. She wasn’t even sure whether she could answer it or not. Without any windows Yeong-Ja wasn’t able to see how high the sun was and therefore unable to tell the time. Yet she knew it had been enough time for her to change her appearance. “Long enough to wash my face and dress differently.”
San’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t expected such an answer and most importantly he hadn’t expected that she took the liberty to change her looks, disregarding everything the servants must have prepared for him. Before San could control himself, he let out a loud laugh. San held his stomach as he leaned back from the force of his laughter. The mental picture of the frustration from his servants and her just undoing everything that has been made, just got to him.
Yeong-Ja observed him silently, a small smile playing over her lips upon noticing the dimples on his face when he grinned brightly. 
Once San calmed down again, he wiped the corner of his eyes. He still grinned, the amusement apparent in his voice as well. “Make yourself comfortable in this room. If you’re in need of anything don’t hesitate to call for a servant.”
Yeong-Ja nodded slowly, trying to hide the confusion that filled her thoughts. She thought the emperor would want her to undress and get on the bed so she could please him. Therefore she hadn’t expected something like this.
“I’d like to have breakfast with you tomorrow morning. Is that alright with you?” San ignored the warning growls from his wolf, telling him to stay with her. But San wanted to be a little more careful with her. He hoped by getting to know her first and taking it slow, Yeong-Ja might not fear him like most of the other concubines. And most importantly she hopefully wouldn’t run away.
Yeong-Ja had to remind herself of keeping it together and actually answer the emperor. Everything she witnessed from him so far contradicted all the rumours surrounding him. It was a miracle that she wasn’t too stunned to speak with him. “It would be a pleasure.”
San smiled and nodded shortly, before he bid his goodbye and walked back into his private chambers. Much to the dismay of his inner wolf.
Over the next weeks San ordered to bring more furniture into the concubine’s bedroom. While he could have admitted Yeong-Ja to the special quarters for the concubine instead of the regular ones, his inner wolf insisted to have her as close as possible - and if sharing a bed wasn’t an option yet it had to be the room right next door.
Yeong-Ja still didn’t know how to properly act around the emperor. He was sweet towards her during the day and made sure every wish she could possibly have was fulfilled as fast as possible but he never called her for the purpose she was brought into the palace.
At night she would lie awake in the large bed, staring up at the ceiling, which she barely saw with the small night light on the stand next to the bed. At first Yeong-Ja wasn’t able to sleep because she constantly stayed on edge, expecting to be called for her duty at any moment. Though when it didn’t happen her thoughts started to tear her apart from the inside. She couldn’t understand why San never came to her at night, why he always kept his distance even when they met. 
Yeong-Ja couldn’t possibly know how much he suffered from not being close to her. His wolf rioted every chance possible - especially at night. A time where he wanted to take his mate and nothing else. 
San writhed in pain, trying to keep his cool. Yet the hard on he sported in his loose pants throbbed painfully. No amount of masturbating helped him and it slowly but surely drove him insane.
‘Go to her.’ His wolf whispered, the sly smirk prominent in his voice. ‘She’ll take care of us.’
“No”, San grunted breathlessly. He pushed himself up and walked over to the door. San stood in front of it, his whole body trembling as he fought with himself. It took all of his will power to go through the other door. 
He walked up to the concubine quarters. San needed a release and he couldn’t care less about who he had to fuck for that. As long as it meant he wouldn’t harm Yeong-Ja.
The woman struggled to fall asleep again. Therefore she decided to go for a short walk. She followed the wooden path to the centre of the palace, where she found a small koi pond and some greenery. Yeong-Ja sat down on the stairs that led down to the pond and stared at the water. The light of the flames from the lanterns around her reflected on the surface, almost dancing to a melody she wasn’t able to hear.
When she heard the sudden movements to her right, she cowered behind the handrail, hoping to stay hidden from whoever walked past in the middle of the night.
San pushed the concubine towards the special quarters since he couldn’t use the bedroom anymore. He got impatient with her stumbling and irritated with his wolf wanting to go somewhere else. Hopefully it would die down the second he stepped into the quarters with that concubine.
Yeong-Ja watched them silently, a lump forming inside her stomach when she recognised San with another woman. She wondered what this woman had that she didn’t have. Her shoulders hung down and she couldn’t contain the sigh that spilled past her lips. While being with the emperor had its perks, she still felt out of place. No matter how many tea ceremonies, breakfasts or evening walks she would have with him, Yeong-Ja still thought there had to be something wrong with her as she seemed to be the only concubine that wasn’t used for her original purpose.
Yeong-Ja winced when she heard the faint cries of pleasure. Swallowing the building lump in her throat she decided to go for a longer walk. There was no way she could just sit there and listen, nor could she go back to her chamber that was located right next to them.
On silent soles the young woman moved over the bridge of the pond and up the stairs towards the throne hall. She hoped the door behind the throne would be open, so she could sneak past. Even though she knew she’d be stopped at the main gate, she had a slimmer of hope within her.
“Miss Yeong-Ja?”
She squeaked and slightly jumped on the spot, her hand hovering above the handle for the sliding door to the throne hall. Yeong-Ja’s head turned almost mechanically to her left, where she saw Seonghwa.
He looked at her with concern written all over his face. Ever so carefully he stepped towards her, fearing she might bolt if he made too hasty movements. “Is everything alright?”
Yeong-Ja winced again, feeling incredibly exposed all of a sudden. “I just wanted to take a walk.”
“In the middle of the night?” Seonghwa finally reached her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He tilted his head, exploring her face in detail. His attention momentarily faltered when he heard the outcry from the special room. Understanding dawned on his features as his attention returned to the woman in front of him. “May I accompany you, Miss Yeong-Ja?”
Yeong-Ja nodded softly, a small smile playing over her features when she saw his awkward grin. “Can we leave the palace grounds for a while?” She asked hopefully, needing some distance to clear her thoughts.
“I’ll send for two guards to follow us”, Seonghwa confirmed and ushered her through the door. They crossed the throne room in silence and waited at the large entrance to the courtyard for two guards to join you.
For a while the silence continued as they walked through the streets of the upper town. Though as if Seonghwa was able to read her mind, he spoke up again: “Something is troubling you.”
Yeong-Ja sighed deeply, tilting her head back and looking up into the dark sky. “Is there something wrong with me?” She didn’t dare to look at Seonghwa, fearing his answer for some reason.
Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, observing her closely. “Why would there something be wrong with you?”
She shrugged with her shoulders, looking back down to the ground again. “It’s a little embarrassing to talk about this”, she confessed, her voice so soft nobody else but Seonghwa could hear her. “I just feel like the emperor doesn’t want me like he wants the other concubines. I’m not even sharing the same quarters with them.”
Seonghwa placed his hand on her shoulder again, chuckling softly. “I’m sure it is quite the opposite, dear.”
Yeong-Ja raised her head and looked at Seonghwa in confusion, a frown adorning her features while she tried to understand what the counsellor meant. “If the emperor wants me why wouldn’t he come to me at night?”
“That is something you should ask him yourself”, Seonghwa answered ominously, halting in his steps and turning around. 
Yeong-Ja followed his example, still confused about what he was hinting at. She noticed him staring ahead and followed his gaze. 
Her eyes widened in surprise when they locked with San’s, who stood breathing heavily in the middle of the street before them.
When she had left the palace, San had stopped mid-thrust. ‘She’s leaving!’ San’s eyes widened in panic when he realised his wolf was right and the scent of Yeong-Ja grew more distant. San growled almost animalistically as he pushed himself away from the concubine. “Go back to your chambers”, he ordered before he rushed out of the room.
He hurried to her bedroom first, needing to confirm what his instincts and sense of smell told him with his own two eyes. San momentarily stopped in front of her door, making himself presentable before he entered. His heartbeat accelerated when he didn’t see her inside the room.
‘Follow her!’ His wolf snarled and pulled San back.
The emperor barely snapped out of this, keeping control over his own body, as he ran towards the main gates. He ignored the questioning looks from the guards and only continued to run through the streets. San followed his nose for the most part but his eyes still frantically scanned his surroundings, making sure he wouldn’t miss her.
He stopped upon finding her - together with Seonghwa, who had a hand placed on her shoulder. San breathed heavily, his shoulders heaving from the sprint he just did. His eyes jumped between Yeong-Ja and Seonghwa, trying to figure out what was going on while his wolf wanted nothing but to rip Seonghwa’s hand off.
Seonghwa bowed slightly towards San and then turned back to Yeong-Ja. “I’ll leave you in his care now.” He smiled knowingly and squeezed her shoulder in reassurance before stepping away.
Yeong-Ja looked puzzled. Instead of finding answers to her questions, she only had more questions inside her head now. Once Seonghwa was out of her sight, her eyes landed on San. Uncertainty wafted off of her in waves and even San could sense it without his inner wolf telling him.
“Is everything alright?” He asked carefully, eyes exploring her expression. San feared she had attempted to escape and only got stopped by Seonghwa.
Yeong-Ja crossed her arms in front of her chest, slightly hugging her upper body even. “I just needed to take a walk.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“Yes!” She snapped, before looking away in embarrassment. “In the middle of the night”, she added more softly, “I needed to clear my head.”
San stepped closer - at least a little. “Is there something bothering you?” He tried to even his breathing, even though the fear inside of him made him want to gasp for air. His thoughts swirled around his head and the whining of his wolf to move closer didn’t help either to stay level headed.
Yeong-Ja watched him. She saw the fear in his eyes, saw him struggle and fight with himself but she didn’t understand why. She tightened the hold around her upper body. “Is there something wrong with me?”
“What?”
She was about to repeat herself, when San interrupted her: “No! Why would you think that? There is absolutely nothing wrong with you! You’re beautiful just the way you are!”
“And yet you always keep your distance.” Yeong-Ja mumbled to herself without knowing San’s heightened senses still picked up on her words. 
“I don’t want to hurt you.” San groaned and pressed his face into his hands, before running them through his hair. “I keep my distance because I don’t want to frighten or hurt you.”
Yeong-Ja looked up at him through her eyelashes, gnawing on her lower lip as she contemplated her next question.
San’s wolf begged him to cross the distance and scoop her up in his arms; begged him to litter her in kisses but San stayed put. He wanted to wait; wanted to hear what she had to say.
“So could we have a tea ceremony where you won’t sit across the room and far away from me?” The wavering in her otherwise hopeful voice was heartbreaking.
“If that is what you wish for”, San agreed with a nod, never moving his eyes away from her. He didn’t dare to let her out of his sight for even a second. “Let us do that then. Tomorrow. After a good night’s rest.”
Yeong-Ja nodded shortly. She still felt uncertain around him but having him agree on being closer felt like a small step in the right direction. The young woman walked over to San - momentarily surprised he didn’t step back, but incredibly pleased he followed through with his words already. “Then we should head back again.”
“Yes”, San breathed out and walked next to you. Relief washed over his whole body once he realised she hadn’t tried running away and was even willing to go back with him. He definitely had to work harder to keep Yeong-Ja by his side - even if it meant torturing himself.
~
San sat in the middle of his private chamber. He had his eyes closed, trying to mentally prepare himself for the close proximity he was about to have with Yeong-Ja. 
Behind him the tattoo artist prepared his utensils to create another mark on the emperor’s body. Hongjoong created every art piece on San’s skin and it hadn’t surprised him to be called again. He placed the small bowl with black ink to his right on a cloth of linen. Next to the bowl he kept the needles and a wooden piece he used as a hammer. To his left Hongjoong had placed a larger bowl of water and several towels. 
“Everything has been prepared. We can start now.”
San raised one hand, halting the artist in his movements. “Please wait a moment. I’m expecting someone to join us.”
Hongjoong’s eyes widened as he stared at the back of the emperor’s head. So far each tattoo session has always been just them. He leaned back on his feet, placing his hands on his thighs to wait.
A servant announced their arrival, requesting to open the door and let Yeong-Ja inside. 
Yeong-Ja played with the fingers of her hands behind her back. She stepped inside once the sliding door got opened enough for her to walk in. To her surprise the door got closed behind her right away. For a second it felt like a deja vu but when she turned her head and looked into the room, she noticed the two men sitting on the floor. 
Just like during the first night San only wore some pants, revealing his bare chest and arms. He looked up at her with a nervous smile. “I know this isn’t like our usual meetings”, he explained when he saw her tilting her head to the side and eyeing Hongjoong behind him. “Will you still join me?”
The woman nodded hesitantly and crossed the room to sit in front of San. She leaned a little to the side to get a better look at the second man, who nearly got devoured by San’s broad shoulders. 
“That’s Kim Hongjoong”, San told her, successfully getting her attention back on him. “He did all of my tattoos and will do another today.” San momentarily looked over his shoulder and told Hongjoong to start now.
At the mention of his tattoos Yeong-Ja’s eyes dropped to his chest, staring at the large wolf tattoo. She mused Hongjoong to be a great artist if he was able to create such detail of a wolf’s head with nothing but black ink. “Do they have a meaning or are you just having them for aesthetic reasons?” 
For a while only the slapping of the wood against Hongjoong’s fingers filled the room. San focused on the slight pain pulsating through his body to keep his wolf in check. The close proximity to her made his wolf run up the walls but he couldn’t let it be. “Some have meaning, others don’t”, he breathed out, his jaw clenching and hand twitching as his wolf made another attempt to reach out to her.
Yeong-Ja watched him silently, noticing how he tensed up and struggled to hold this conversation.
Even Hongjoong noticed the unusual behaviour of the emperor. He knew for a fact San didn’t react to the pain of the needle, so seeing him this tense surprised the artist.
Yeong-Ja turned her attention back to the artist while San continued breathing purposefully. “How are you creating these?”
Hongjoong momentarily halted in his movement to look up at the woman. A proud grin flashed over his feature before he continued to work and started explaining the process to her. 
While his inner wolf got jealous and wanted to bring the focus back to them, San felt some sort of relief that he could deal with his wolf for a moment as she listened intently to the process of tattoo making from Hongjoong.
After what only felt like seconds but probably had been much longer Yeong-Ja looked back at San. She noticed how he had already been watching her, making the heat rise up to her cheeks. Yeong-Ja quickly dismissed the feeling and cleared her throat. “May I see how he’s doing it?”
San’s eyes widened but he nodded nonetheless. He silently watched how she got on her knees and crawled past his left side. She stopped right next to him, letting only her head be behind his body to watch the artist creating the tattoo. Yeong-Ja stayed on all fours as she watched, surprised at the mess she saw on his back.
Hongjoong grabbed one of the towels and dunked it into the water bowl before wiping it over the fresh tattoo.
“Oh”, Yeong-Ja gasped when all the residue ink got wiped away and revealed what the artist had created so far. “How can you see with all the ink and blood being in the way?”
“Memory and constant cleaning.” Hongjoong picked the needle and piece of wood back up into his hands. He dunked the tip of the needle into the black ink and placed it on San’s skin before he slapped the wood against his fingers and pricked the skin in the process.
Yeong-Ja’s hand involuntarily grabbed onto San’s hand that had rested on his lap. She watched the tattoo artist with wide eyes, her hand squeezing San’s with every slap of the wooden piece. 
San had gone completely still, his heart nearly beating out of his chest while his wolf rumbled in satisfaction. The little electric shock waves that flowed through his body were so much stronger than the pain from the needle. He swallowed harshly and turned his head to look at her. His eyes roamed over her features and a soft smile spread over his lips. San turned his attention down to her hand and before he could get second thoughts he placed his free hand on hers and started rubbing his thumb over her delicate skin.
Yeong-Ja leaned back on her feet again, eyes now on San’s face. “Does it hurt?” She noticed how he had relaxed soon after she held his hand, she also realised - with a slight panic arising - how this was the first time she actually had skin to skin contact with San.
“Not anymore”, he answered softly, continuing to stroke her hand with his thumb. “It’s reassuring even. To know I’ll soon have another mark on my skin that shows I’m fighting for my people.” San easily continued to speak about his tattoos and their meaning now, when she asked him to tell her more about them. 
He would be laughing at himself, if it weren’t for the tattooing. San never expected that the simple contact with her skin was enough to keep his wolf somewhat satisfied and make him definitely easier to control. For weeks he battled inside of his mind with his wolf to take it slow. The constant suffering of being near her, having her scent and presence invade all of his senses without the possibility to act on it, turned San almost crazy. Yet, simple hand holding had been the solution all along.
“I’d like to have one as well”, Yeong-Ja announced suddenly, making both men freeze and stare at her with wide eyes.
Hongjoong was the first to break out of his stupor. “You want to have a tattoo?” He raised an eyebrow in question, looking at her and then at San before he looked back at her. “What would you want to get and where?”
Yeong-Ja’s eyes flicked to San, who still hadn’t moved, where she looked at the wolf tattoo shortly. Her eyes moved back up to San’s face, seeing how stunned he was with her statement. 
San barely heard any of Hongjoong’s question as his heart hammered inside his chest and pumped his blood like a raging stream through his body.
Yeong-Ja bid down on her lower lip, feeling suddenly nervous with the way both men stared at her. “I’d like something that shows what I am. Something that shows I belong to the emperor.”
‘She wants us to mark her!’ 
San could feel his dick twitch from the image of marking her. The excitement his wolf felt washing over to himself as well. He had to fight to keep his thoughts clear, needing several minutes before he could even speak again. “You want my sigil on your body?”
Yeong-Ja nodded softly, still gnawing at her lower lip. She had thought of a wolf at first but the second San mentioned his sigil - the moon - she knew it was the perfect tattoo to show she belonged to him. “Would that be alright?” Yeong-Ja looked up at San through her eyelashes, nervous to get a rejection from him.
“Yes”, he breathed out, squeezing her hand gently. “Absolutely!” San turned his head to glance at Hongjoong. “Once you finish my tattoo, prepare everything to make another.”
Hongjoong agreed quietly and got back to work, finishing the tattoo soon after. He cleaned San’s back one last time before he stood up and called for a servant, requesting fresh towels and water. When he turned back around, his eyes landed on the woman. “Have you thought about where you want to get the tattoo?”
“Somewhere where I can see it, if I want to.” Yeong-Ja looked down at her body, wondering which part that would be. She lifted her arms and turned them, quickly deciding against them and looking further down her body. Her gaze momentarily flickered to San’s chest, thinking she could have the moon tattoo on her chest just like him, but she already squirmed at the thought of revealing her breasts. Finally Yeong-Ja’s gaze landed on her lap. “On my thigh?”
Hongjoong nodded. “That’s a good choice for a first tattoo placement. It will hurt less.” He started to prepare everything again, thanking the servants that brought the things he requested.
San squeezed her hand and brought her attention back to him. “Are you afraid?” He asked softly, tilting his head to one side.
“Not with your approval”, she answered him, smiling shyly and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was more afraid of your reaction”, she admitted. Again she glanced up at him, gauging his expression to her words. 
San could only grin foolishly at her, his dimples appearing in his cheeks. He loved how she asked for his approval; loved how she wanted to do it with him in her mind. Before he could say anything of that though, Hongjoong requested Yeong-Ja to lay down on her side. San nearly whined out loud when she pulled her hand away from him to follow the request.
Yeong-Ja tried breathing naturally but her nervousness slowly got the best of her. She only followed the instructions of Hongjoong now, her head otherwise empty. She pulled the fabric of her dress to the side, revealing her right thigh. 
Hongjoong then grabbed her by her hip gently and pulled her back to his lap, so that half her body leaned against him. “If this position is too uncomfortable we can get you a pillow to support your upper body.”
San immediately scrambled closer to them. He offered his own lap as a pillow and grinned giddily when Yeong-Ja accepted and placed her head on his lap. The emperor grabbed her right hand as well, pulling her arm up over her head so it wouldn’t be in the way for Hongjoong and so he could hold her hand again.
‘We should be marking her’, his wolf growled. He felt conflicted watching another man putting a mark on the body of his mate - even if it showed humans she belonged to the emperor - and having her so close to him. On one side he wanted to smother his mate in kisses and licks and on the other he wanted to tear his teeth into the artist for touching her. Or take her in front of him just to show his claim.
San groaned silently, debating with his wolf inside his mind. He unconsciously closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, too focused on controlling his wolf.
Yeong-Ja, who had been staring up at San for the whole time, noticed how he tensed up again. She squeezed his hand and smiled reassuringly when he opened his eyes and looked at her.
“Does it hurt?” San asked and raised her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it before he could even think about the action.
“Not anymore”, Yeong-Ja answered, grinning at him as she saw the twinkle of understanding in his eyes. She didn’t just say these words to copy his answer from before, she actually barely felt the way Hongjoong tattooed her since all her focus had been on San only, making her heart soar and stomach flutter. This was the closest she had been to him and she liked the feeling, hoping it would only deepen in the future.
~
“Can I see your tattoo again?” San turned on his side, looking up at Yeong-Ja’s sitting form. He grinned innocently as he looked through his bangs, appearing almost boy-ish. 
Yeong-Ja giggled and leaned back on her hands, stretching her leg out. “You've been asking every day since I got it.” She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh air surrounding her. 
Ever since she got the tattoo, San kept her as close as possible. He still hadn’t taken her at night but during the day he became quite clingy, disregarding the looks from others when he stayed so close to her.
Though right now he didn’t have to worry about it, having taken Yeong-Ja out on a picnic to a nearby stream in the bordering forest. He told Seonghwa where they were headed and ordered the guards to stay behind. San wanted to be solely with her at least for a moment.
“And I’ll continue to ask every single day.”
Yeong-Ja opened her eyes and laughed softly. “I’m yours. Technically you wouldn’t even have to ask.” She licked over her lips and averted her eyes again, taking in her surroundings instead.
The sun filtered through the canopy of the trees above their heads, letting thin rays of light hit the ground around them. Some rays reached the water of the small stream, where the moving water reflected the light. Birds and cicadas chirped around them and somewhere up the stream even a frog croaked its mating song.
San pushed himself up and crawled over to Yeong-Ja, his body half hovering over hers now. He grabbed her chin with his forefinger and thumb and turned her head until she looked into his eyes again. “I will always ask for your consent.”
Yeong-Ja exhaled shakily and smiled up to him. “And I’ll always give you my consent.”
San grinned brightly and let go of her chin, his hand moving down to her leg instead. When he reached her ankle, he finally made contact with her skin. Ever so slowly San pushed his hand up along her leg now, moving the fabric of the dress to the side in the process. Once he revealed her bare thigh to his sight, he let his thumb brush over the dark tattoo. 
‘We should mark her right next to it!’ His wolf tried to order San and growled in frustration when he didn’t bud. ‘She’s ready for us! Take her, mark her, breed her!’ 
San swallowed harshly, trying to ignore the pictures floating into his mind. He grabbed her thigh, his large hand squeezing it. His eyes slowly wandered back up to her face, seeing how she stared at him with bated breath. 
‘She wants us! Wants us to breed her! Do something!’ His wolf roared in frustration when San only dropped down on her form, using her body as a pillow. 
San pressed his ear against her chest, listening to her erratic heartbeat with a smirk playing over his lips. He sighed in content and closed his eyes. It took all his strength to keep his wolf in check and simply relaxing in her lap helped him gain the power to keep it that way.
Yeong-Ja shifted her weight to hold her up on one hand, so she could card her fingers through San’s dark locks. She tried to ignore how her heart hammered inside of her chest, making her emotions incredibly obvious to the emperor. She tried to ignore the flutter inside her stomach and the heat pooling in her lower regions when he squeezed her thigh. While a part of her wanted him to take her in the middle of the forest, she couldn’t bring herself to ask him.
Yeong-Ja wasn’t inexperienced - not that she’d tell anybody about it - but now that emotions had joined the situation, it created a pit in her stomach and made a mess out of her.
A twig snapped in the distance, alerting San and his wolf. He tensed up before pushing himself into a crouching position in front of Yeong-Ja, ready to protect her at any cost. San barely held the growl inside him when he heard steps coming closer.
“What’s wrong?” Yeong-Ja sat up as well, placing one hand on San’s back and peering over his shoulder. 
“Someone’s coming”, San informed her with a low voice. He had his eyes still trained on the trees in front of him, listening intently to the steps. His nose twitched as he tried to use the sense of smell from his wolf, hoping to get a read on the person that was approaching.
“San?”
Yeong-Ja sat a little straighter than before, her mouth shaping an ‘o’ as she recognised the voice. She also noticed how San visibly relaxed and stood up, calling out for Seonghwa.
Soon enough the older man appeared between the trees with an awkward smile adorning his face. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt”, he apologised and bowed shortly in front of the couple. “But I have to ask you to return to the palace.”
San frowned and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Why?” Was the only word he said, slightly glaring at Seonghwa for even requesting something like that.
Seonghwa glanced towards Yeong-Ja, who slowly stood up too, readying herself to leave at any moment. He sighed deeply and returned his attention to his emperor. “Patrolling guards have stumbled on a camp of soldiers from the neighbouring region. They were able to overwhelm them without any casualties but now they insist on delivering a message to the emperor himself.”
“And that couldn’t wait?” San grunted in annoyance, but started to pack the few things he had brought along nonetheless. 
“The prisoners make the court nervous.”
“And a nervous court is a bad court.” San sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t want to leave Yeong-Ja’s side so soon. He turned his head and looked at her, contemplating his options. “Would you” - he paused, unsure about his own request - “stay with me?”
Yeong-Ja nodded and quickly stepped next to him, placing a hand on his upper arm. “If that’s what you wish.”
San thanked her quietly and grabbed her hand, leading her back to the palace and towards the throne room. His thumb rubbed slow circles to the back of her hand as his gaze was trained on Seonghwa’s back. He knew Seonghwa wouldn’t have interrupted them if it wasn’t necessary. He still cursed the older man for doing it though.
When they reached the throne room, Seonghwa stepped next to the throne as the head counsellor, looking down at the five soldiers that kneeled at the bottom of the steps towards the throne. 
San glared at them as he walked up the steps and plopped down on the throne. He still held onto Yeong-Ja’s hand and used the chance to pull her right into his lap. There was no way he’d let her go now while being irritated already. San wrapped his arms around her body and silently nosed her neck, inhaling her scent with closed eyes to calm himself down again. 
Yeong-Ja hadn’t expected to sit on the throne as well but she sensed how San needed her presence to keep his cool. She placed one hand on his chest, silently telling him she would be there for him.
“What is this message you have for me?” San opened his eyes again, glaring down at the five soldiers, who cowered away from his intense aura. Even some of his own guards shrunk down on themselves. 
“It’s more of a warning”, one of the soldiers spoke up, raising his head to look up and smirk at San and Yeong-Ja. “You might wanna keep a closer look on your concubines.”
San snarled loudly and tightened his hold on Yeong-Ja, leaning forward a little as if he wanted to attack at any moment. “Be careful of your next words or I will rip your tongue out”, he threatened, baring his teeth in the process.
The soldier laughed maniacally. “I’m not surprised rebel groups are forming in your kingdom when the emperor himself is more concerned whether I insult a concubine or not.” He glared back up at San, a crazy look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. “They say the dumber the concubine the better the sex. So this one must be incredibly stupid if you keep her that close.”
Yeong-Ja pressed her hand on San’s chest, keeping him in place. She turned her head to the soldier, raising an eyebrow to taunt him. “Oh really?”, she asked with a scoff. “In this case your stupidity outshines mine. You never intended to give the emperor a real warning, did you now? You only desired to insult him or get a rise out of him, isn’t that right? But here you are, on your knees, pathetic and incredibly stupid for revealing your association with rebel groups.” 
Seonghwa stared at the woman with wide eyes. She was the first woman to speak during a court meeting of this magnitude. She was also the first to attend one but that's besides the fact she kept San in check, threw the insults right back at the enemies face and pointed out valuable information. He had also picked up on the rebel part but would have brought it up at a later point without the soldiers present. 
Seonghwa turned his attention to San, noting how he barely held himself together. The only thing stopping him right now was Yeong-Ja’s hand on his chest. Otherwise he appeared to be absolutely livid.
“Pah”, the soldier barked, internally cursing himself for speaking about the rebel groups.
“And let me guess”, Yeong-Ja continued, ignoring how the soldier bared his teeth at her, “part of the rebel group is a former concubine that ran away. Why else would you bring it up?”
“A loud one, aren’t we? I’ll keep in mind to gag you when I fuck you and make you submit to me!”
In a flash San pushed Yeong-Ja from his lap and leaped down the stairs, crashing into the soldier, who had insulted her on several occasions. He punched his face over and over again, not stopping even when he heard the crack of bones.
Seonghwa rushed over to Yeong-Ja and placed his hand on her shoulder, forcing himself into her line of view. “You should leave now!” 
Yeong-Ja stared up at him with an open mouth. She noted his stern voice and expression but something inside her insisted to stay put. “He asked me to stay by his side”, she tried to bargain with Seonghwa, knowing full well her weak voice did nothing to compel him. 
“You do not want to see this”, Seonghwa only told her and grabbed her upper arm, pulling her up and away from the throne. 
“What kind of monster is he?” One of the other soldiers screamed as he tried to move away. 
Yeong-Ja looked over her shoulder upon the scream, seeing how San got tackled by several of his own guards, who tried to pull him away from the now lifeless body of the first soldier. She watched how San pushed all of the guards away and stood up, blood dripping from his fists. His eyes had turned turquoise as he fixed the soldier, who had screamed, with his stare. The last thing Yeong-Ja saw was San snarling, revealing larger canines than a human being should have, before she got pushed through the door behind the throne.
“What is happening to him?” She asked in concern and stared up at Seonghwa’s grim expression. Yeong-Ja stumbled along the wooden path, trying to keep up with the pace Seonghwa had.
“That’s something he’ll have to tell you himself.” Seonghwa opened the door to her quarters and gently pushed her inside. “Stay here and do not come out until I or a servant come for you!”
“What about San? Can I leave when he-?”
“No!” Seonghwa interrupted her immediately, his grip on her shoulder tightening. “In this state San can’t be near you! He wouldn’t want that!” 
Before Yeong-Ja could ask more questions, Seonghwa let go of her and closed the door in front of her nose. She wrapped her arms around her upper body and slowly walked to the large bed while all of her thoughts were with San.
Seonghwa basically ran back to the throne hall, seeing the bloodbath in front of him. He ordered the guards around as he tried to get a better grip of the situation. So far he counted four dead bodies already and several injured guards - which were thankfully on the lighter side. 
San stalked across the room to the remaining living soldier. He pushed himself through the guards that tried to hold him back, his hands that had already turned into claws reached out for the soldier and his turquoise eyes fixed him in the corner of the room. When San broke through his guards he landed on all fours but it didn’t stop him, instead he just continued to crawl forward. He growled menacingly and ignored the guards that grabbed onto his clothes and legs.
“They’re going to kill you! They will hunt you like the animal you are!”
San licked over his canines and pushed one last time forward, breaking free and reaching the soldier. He wrapped his hand around the soldier’s throat, his sharp claws digging into the skin and drawing blood. San leaned down to his face, leaving only a hair’s width between them. “They can try”, he growled before he snapped his back. 
Even though the soldier was dead, San still ripped his throat out and clawed at his upper body. He had lost all of his control, letting his wolf overpower him.
‘Die, die, die, die!’ The wolf chanted over and over again as he relished in the disembodiment of the soldiers. A small part of him had been incredibly proud of his mate for handling the situation so quick-witted but it did nothing for the rage he felt. Nobody insulted his mate and would get out of that alive. He scanned the room, making sure none of the enemies had survived, grinning even when he saw their bodies - or what was left of them. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, the stench of blood infiltrated his nostril as well as the fact the scent of his mate was missing.
Seonghwa and seven other guards stormed towards San, grabbing him and placing huge chains around his arms and wrists. They struggled quite a bit to keep San in check but did it in the end, despite his writhing and twisting.
They brought him to his private quarters and chained San up against his own bed, making sure he wouldn’t be able to break free unless he regained his human consciousness again.
“Take the time to cool off again”, Seonghwa told him with a pained smile on his lips. “You did what you had to. We’ll clean up the mess and take care of the rebel groups. Their scent will be traceable.”
San growled at the mention of the rebel groups, pulling at his chains as well. ‘Anybody associated with these soldiers has to die!’ 
Seonghwa sighed deeply and rubbed a hand over his face. He only hoped San would regain control again sooner than later. He didn’t want to imagine the consequences otherwise.
Yeong-Ja sat up on the bed as she heard the commotion outside her room. She scooted to the edge and listened with bated breath, hearing some muffled words being spoken as well as the rattling of chains. The woman swallowed the lump forming in her throat and stood up, walking to the door that connected her room with San’s. One of her hands clutched the turquoise pendant hanging around her neck while the other hovered above the door, trembling from the nervousness running through her body.
A pitiful whimper from the other side of the door, settled her decision and she pulled the sliding door open. Yeong-Ja glanced into the darkened room, her breath catching in her throat when her eyes connected with the turquoise glowing ones from San.
He whimpered again, trying to move one hand in a weak attempt to reach for her. “Yeong-Ja”, he rasped before he wetted his lips with his tongue.
Yeong-Ja carefully stepped closer to the bed, both hands now clutching the pendant while her eyes took in every detail of the scene before her. 
San laid splayed across the mattress, his upper body slightly hoisted up by the dozens of pillows behind his back. His arms were pulled to the side by heavy looking chains that wrapped around them up to his elbow. His fingers, which appeared more like claws, had blood slowly drying on them. Same with his clothes that got covered in blood stains and started to dry up. San had blood smeared over his lower face as well, the dark liquid a stark contrast to his smooth skin and his glowing eyes.
“San?” She asked hesitantly, halting at the end of the bed. Concern was written all over her features and it only deepened when he whimpered again. Yeong-Ja stared at him, a knot forming in her chest from the helplessness that suddenly arose inside of her. She wanted to help him, be there for him, but she didn’t know how.
A loud crack rang through the room and San broke free in the blink of an eye. He grabbed Yeong-Ja by the waist and slammed her down on the mattress, caging her underneath his body. He leaned down and nosed along her neck, inhaling deeply her intoxicating scent. “Our mate”, he rumbled and pressed his pelvis against her core.
The way San easily threw her onto the bed, knocked Yeong-Ja’s breath out of her lungs. The heat and throbbing inside her lower regions built up tenfold out of nowhere, leaving her incredibly aroused.
“We’ll take good care of our mate,” he breathed against the sensitive part of her neck, gently nibbling the skin even, “we’ll make her feel full with our cock, make her full of our cum until she’ll carry our pups.” He spoke more to himself than to her, too consumed by his own hunger and lust.
Yeong-Ja mewled softly underneath him when he ripped her clothes off, leaving her in a few shredded pieces of fabric but otherwise bare for his eyes. She wanted to hide from his intense gaze but stopped upon hearing him growl. Instead she raised her hands above her head, intertwining her fingers even, to show she wouldn’t hide a single part of her body from his sight. 
He growled almost impatiently as he grabbed her by the hips - the chains around his arms clanged loudly with each movement. With ease he lifted her body and turned her around so she was on all fours. He tore the fabric of his pants open while he pushed Yeong-Ja’s upper body into the mattress, presenting her ass nicely for him. 
Yeong-Ja gasped for air when he thrusted into her with one swift motion. Her walls tightened around his shaft, squeezing him hard from the sudden intrusion. She arched her back, changing the angle slightly he’d fuck into her. 
He grabbed her hair and held her down, pressing her into the mattress with one hand. Part of the cold chains rested on her back, adding to the intense feeling. The other grabbed onto her hip, keeping her body in place as he started to thrust into her. He snapped his hips so his pelvis hit her ass cheeks and created a loud slapping sound that reverberated through the whole room. He growled with each thrust, gaining strength from the increasing moans that turned higher in pitch with every snap of his hips.
Yeong-Ja cried out in pleasure, feeling her insides tingle in pleasure. Every fibre of her body reacted to him and sent her over the edge. If he hadn’t held her hip with a vice-like grip, she would have collapsed on the mattress. She barely caught her own breath when he used his strength again. She whined over the loss of his dick from her throbbing hole but yelped when he turned her back around and slammed her back into the mattress once more.
His claws ran over her skin, leaving thin red lines along their path. He moved them from her neck over her chest and down her sides until he stopped at her hips. His eyes landed on the moon tattoo on her thigh, grinning wickedly as he dropped down and licked over the dark ink. “Our mate. We’re marking her for good this time.” He nibbled around her tattoo, licking and kissing it in his way as well. Until he found a spot close to her core.
Yeong-Ja arched her back and screamed out when San bit down on her thigh, together with plunging two fingers into her hole at the same time. The pain and pleasure battled inside of her for the prominent feeling as San’s large canines stayed inside her flesh while he started to fuck his fingers into her at a brutal pace.
Only after he felt satisfied, he pulled away from the bite mark, rumbling pleased to see his own mark on her skin. He leaned down and licked over the tender wound, sealing it with his saliva. “You’re such a good mate for us. So perfect. Taking everything so well.”
With one last kiss on the bite mark he moved to her centre, brushing his lips over her sensitive nub and teasing her folds with a few licks. All while he still pounded his fingers into her relentlessly. He only slowed down his movements to add his tongue to the mixture, pushing it along his fingers into her hole. His nose nudged into her nub during the process, making her mewl and whine in pleasure.
As her high built up yet again, Yeong-Ja wanted to clutch her legs together but his broad shoulders and a tight grip on her thigh prevented her from doing so. She had to endure the onslaught of pleasure to her clit and folds, being toppled over the edge when he added a third finger to push into her. Yeong-Ja’s whole body trembled and was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, her breathing erratic and her mind wrapped in a cotton-like bliss.
He lapped at her essence, slurping up every last drop, before he pushed himself up and ripped the rest of his own pants and shirt away. He tore at the chains as well, getting rid of them and finally being just as bare as her. His dick slapped against his toned stomach, thick and throbbing, with droplets of precum oozing out of its tip. He leaned back down again and rolled his hips against her core, lathering his shaft with her juices and wetting it again before he pushed himself inside of her.
Yeong-Ja didn’t get a warning, nor was she prepared for what was to come. Her legs got pushed to her chest, where he wrapped his arms around to hold them secure while he rammed his dick into her tight hole. The drag along her walls had her thoughts spiralling and her high building rapidly again. Yeong-Ja grabbed onto the sheets of the bed, needing something to ground herself.
“Such a good mate”, he rumbled, accentuating each word with a harsh thrust, “taking us so well. Feeling so good around our cock. Our mate is the only one we need, only one we want.” He pushed into her, getting more and more aggressive since her moans spurred him on. “Need to breed her. Need pups. Need her full of our cum.”
When he let go of her legs, they fell almost limply back on the mattress, spread wide so he could still fuck into her. He grabbed onto her sides, his claws slightly digging into her skin as he continued to push into her. He grunted and growled, hitting the soft spot inside her. 
Yeong-Ja cried out in pleasure, writhing underneath him as she couldn’t control her own body anymore. She grabbed onto her hair with one hand, moaning obscenely loud. Her senses zoned in on the connection between their bodies and with one hard thrust she came undone once more.
He stilled his movements, having his dick pushed inside of her core as far as possible. He felt how the base engorged, forming the knot that would prevent any of his seed spilling out. He kept his position, leaning on his elbows and staring down at the connection. He could see how her entrance got spread wide from the building knot, which was enough to make him spill inside of her. His dick twitched and shot rope after rope of white hot cum into her, painting her insides white and filling her up to the brim.
“So good. Taking it all. Our mate will be round and plump with our pups.” He rumbled in satisfaction, watching how her lower stomach slightly expanded from the amount of cum he shot into her.
Even after he was done, he stayed in place - the knot wouldn’t reduce in its size anytime soon. He tore his glowing eyes away from their connected body parts, letting them wander over her body and up to her face. Out of the corner of the eye he noticed something around her neck.
Yeong-Ja winced slightly when he shifted his weight and reached out to carefully pull at her necklace until he had the turquoise pendant resting in his palm. She watched how the glow in his eyes slowly died down and his warm brown eyes returned again.
San’s gaze flicked from the pendant up to her face, confusion spreading over his features since his memory appeared a little hazy. “Yeong-Ja?” His voice was soft with a hint of worry lacing it. When she only smiled weakly - still too out of it from multiple orgasms - concern replaced San’s confusion. He wanted to push himself up when both of them winced, making him look down at his body again. San scoffed and shook his head. “Can’t believe my wolf fucked you before I did”, he grumbled, hiding his face behind his dark bangs.
“Your wolf?” She asked quietly, her voice hoarse from the constant moans. Yeong-Ja raised one hand to cup his cheek, lifting his head until San looked at her again. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek bone and smiled softly at him, even brushing his bangs out of his eyes. 
San sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I’m not entirely human”, he mumbled, swallowing harshly in fear of her reaction. “I am part wolf.” He noticed how her gaze dropped down to his tattoo, making him grin slyly. San turned his head from side to side and looked around, noting the broken headrest of the bed and the chains discarded on the mattress to his sides. He slowly gained scenes of his memory back, putting the pieces together to get a whole picture. “I’m sorry”, he whispered and his head dropped down again.
“Why are you apologising?” Yeong-Ja got up on her elbows, ignoring the sting between her legs from the movement. “You have nothing to be sorry about!” 
San shook his head. “I wanted to ease you into this mess since it’s a lot to take. I understand if you’re afraid of me now and want to keep your distance. I’m deeply sorry for losing control over my wolf and letting him use you like that.” To his surprise he heard Yeong-Ja chuckle, so he looked back up at her with wide eyes.
“It is a lot to take in”, she agreed with a twinkle in her eyes, “but it doesn’t mean I can’t take it. The moment I requested the tattoo was the moment I decided to be in this for the long run. You don’t have to hide from me, don’t have to keep any secrets. I’m yours. Wholeheartedly.”
San cursed under his breath as he grabbed Yeong-Ja by the neck and pressed his lips against hers. He hummed into the kiss, barely suppressing the grin building from the pleased rumbles his wolf made. San licked over her lips, asking for entrance and deepening the kiss when she gave it to him. He slowly started to roll his hips as well, feeling his hard on buried so snuggly inside of her.
Yeong-Ja arched her back, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. While San’s movements were a lot softer they were precise and hit her insides just right.
San took his sweet time with her, adoring every second of it. For once he could enjoy the pleasure of life without his wolf commenting on everything he did. For once he felt like he became one - not just with himself but with another person as well, a person so special in her own unique way. And he would show her his gratitude every single day for the rest of his life.
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missglaskin · 1 year
Text
An Eye for an Eye 
Note: THIS STORY WILL NOT HAVE MUCH HAPPY MOMENTS/ENDING
PART 2
Reader takes Lucerys’ place. And to be exclusive, the reader is adopted but has Targaryen blood. This is my first time using plenty of dialogue in hcs. Sorry if this is terrible, I was a bit hesitant to post this 
TW: Sadistic/Dark!Aemond, Explicit: Noncon/Dubcon, hunting kink, knifeplay, forced breeding, dacryphilia, manhandling. Violence: blood, abuse, animal death, bruises/scars, choking. Kidnapping & cursing. 
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If you won’t give him your eye, he'll take something far more valuable.
Your mother tightly clutched you, shielding you from Alicent's wrath. “It was an accident,” you told her more than once. The sight of Aemond holding your brother by the neck as he reached for the rock forced your hand. It didn’t matter to Alicent as she reached for Viserys’ dagger, charging at you. 
When Alicent cuts your mother’s arm, the chaos is abruptly put to an end. Alicent drops the blade and stares in horror as everyone witnesses your mother's hand dripping with blood. “Don't mourn me, mother.” Everyone's attention turns to Aemond, who is standing with one eye stitched shut. “I may have lost an eye, but I’ve gained a dragon,” he assures her, leaning against his mother's chest. 
As he says this, his safe eye catches yours, and you are met with a frightening glare. In response, you cling tighter to your mother. As Corlys leads the way to the maester, Rhaenyra extends her safe hand to yours. Looking back, Aemond's gaze has never left yours. 
Though you'd like to think you're glad to be back home, in reality, you hardly feel that way. The vibrant paintings, various dragon motifs, and statues in every nook and cranny are all gone, all life and color sucked out; in their place, you are met with the gray walls and a seven-pointed star. 
While walking with your brothers and taking in the training grounds, you felt some solace that they had remained largely the same. However, when everyone's attention turned to you, your moment of contentment was quickly over. 
A commotion draws your attention, and you push against the onlookers, standing between your brothers to watch. The silver hair immediately catches your eye, and you feel a small flutter of fear upon recognizing the figure. 
The crowd applauds when Aemond emerged victorious. You gape in awe; Aemond did grow to become quite of a formidable swordsman. “Good job, my prince” You heard Criston say, “Soon you’ll be winning tournaments in no time”. 
"I don't give a shit about tournaments”, was his response and without looking, he addressed your brothers. "Have you come to train?" He asks, facing them. Maybe he's just ignoring you; you wouldn’t blame him if he did.  
"Niece," he finally acknowledges your presence before Jace could respond, violet moon-eye glancing in your direction. You swear you saw his eye dart up and down. His smile was unsettling, and Jace held your hand as if sensing your feelings. The conversation abruptly ends when the gates are opened.
Each one stands with their respective families during the court petition. The entire time, you have a sneaking suspicion someone is watching you. When your eyes finally lock, you are unable to turn away lest you appear weak.
During supper, you’re heading to sit next to Helaena. She's such a sweet girl and, unlike her brothers, never seems to harbor resentment toward you. 
“Niece?” Your heart pounds as a smooth voice calls out to you. It's Aemond, "Come sit by me," he says, calling for a servant before you can even respond, ordering them to bring a seat right next to his.
"What are you doing?" Jace asks, face contorted with anger. "I just want to spend time with my niece," Aemond says "I haven't seen her in so many years, not since-" “Aemond” His mother warns him. Everyone has stopped doing whatever they were doing to watch the interaction, and wanting to avoid any possible conflict, you agree. 
"You don't have to do this," Jace whispers, placing his hand on your shoulder. Rhaenyra gives you a worried look, as if she's asking if you wish for her is to intervene. Reassuringly, you pat your brother's hand before settling down next to Aemond. 
The piercing gaze that he casts on you can be felt, but you choose not to meet it. Instead, you continue drinking your wine with your heart thumping the entire time. Finally, you've told yourself the truth; you’re terrified of him. And he knows.
The dinner went smoothly until the pig arrived and Aemond started making his toast. An altercation occurred with Jace punching Aemond, but he didn’t flinch, simply pushing him to the floor. Luke goes to help his brother but is pushed to the table by Aegon. Daemon intervenes, and Jace and Luke are sent to their rooms. 
As he turns to walk away, you don’t miss the quick glance Aemond gives you. As Aegon is compelled to leave as well, you glare at him, and the prince returns your glare with a mocking smile. Your mother reaches for your hand. "Go to bed, my sweet girl. Pay those boys no mind." You nod as she gives you a reassuring squeeze.
As you leave king's landing, you feel quite glad. As you're about to head out to Dragonstone, you look up the bretèche with an eerie feeling. Luke follows your gaze and finds nothing. "Let's go", he tugs your hand. 
Rhaenys returns with news shortly after you settled back in Dragonstone. Viserys, the king, your grandfather is dead, and Aegon has usurped the throne. You were one of the first to know of this, being there when your mother was informed. 
During the council, your brother intervenes when your mother mentions sending ravens to allies. “Send us,” and your mother reluctantly agrees. You volunteer, "I'll go to Storm's End,” and judging from the surprise on her face, it seems she hasn’t even considered you a part of her plan.
Your mother’s protectiveness over you was well known, and you deliberately chose Storm's end, as it was the nearest and safest. Luke will go to the Vale, and Jace to Winterfell. Your mother made the three of you swear to go as messengers, not warriors. 
Before you can follow your brothers, your mother stops you; seeming to notice your worry. She assures you, "Borris is a proud man; he'll be honored to have a princess as his guest, and you'll be most welcomed". She kissed the top of your head as soon as it was your turn to go.
Riding on your dragon, Dame, you already had trouble; storm's end was near, but the weather made the journey challenging. If the storm is any indication, the weather won't get any better, and you were hoping Borris would offer you a room to stay in. Your mother won't certainly mind if you arrive a little later than you should. 
The guards didn't appear in the slightest surprised by your arrival. As you land your feet on the ground, a roar that absolutely shakes you to your core can be heard. Upon turning, Vhagar was there and her sheer size made her seem bigger than the castle itself. The presence of Vhagar meant the presence of Aemond.
You were tempted to turn around and head back, but what would your mother and everyone else say? If Jace and Luke had been here, they would have carried on and done as they were instructed. Heading back means spending the rest of your life being called a coward; a sheep. So you went in, the doors opened by the guards, and there you were, met with Lord Borris seated in his chair. 
When your eyes shifted to the side, you held your breath. A young lady, who you presumed to be Borris’s daughter, standing next to Aemond. If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it as he turns to face you. He might have thought your mother would’ve sent one of your brothers instead. 
He gives a half-smirk as the guards inform Lord Borris of your titles. Aemond notices your natural inclination to reach for your sword and raises his brow, seemingly daring you to do so. But you don't, reluctantly putting your hands to the side.
Your eyes move away from him upon greeting Lord Borris, handing him the letter from your mother. When Lord Borris summons the maester, the latter takes his time. Your eyes returned to Aemond, who his hands behind his back, still having the same amused expression. 
The measter whispers to Lord Borris. “Remind me of my father’s oath?” The loudness of Borris’s voice causes you to flinch. He claims that the king at least came with an offer. What offer does yours bring? Your eyes nervously cast a quick glance at the three young ladies standing in line next to their father. It wasn't like you could offer yourself.
“My brothers aren’t free to marry, my lord,” and at that moment, he orders you to leave. That he’s not some dog for the queen."I’ll give your answer to the queen, Lord Borris," you sternly address the lord, taking care to say it with disdain. 
When you turn to leave, the guards move to make a path for you. “Wait," you hear the voice that you’re all too familiar with. For a short second, you stand there, almost weighing your options. Still, you turn to the prince, mentally telling yourself to be brave. He can see your fear. They all can. 
The lady who was standing close to him gives you an unknowing look as she walks away. He chastises, "Did you really believe I'd let you fly away trying to steal my brother's throne without cost." For the time being, you are unsure of where the courage came from as you moved a few steps forward.
 "My mother's throne," you correct him, narrowing your eyes at him with such contempt, "that was taken away by your drunken, perverted brother." The sight of his jaw clenching gives you a small sense of satisfaction, but you are also slightly sickened by your overwhelming fear. 
In an almost preemptive manner, he holds himself straight. You take it as something else, "I'm not here to fight you, I came here as a messenger." He chuckles and says, "A fight would be a little challenge," almost as if the idea of you fighting him was just comical. 
You’re startled when his hand reaches for the eyepatch and pulls it off, exposing a blue sapphire in the place where his eye once was. "No, I want you to put your eye.” 
As soon as he says "as a payment of mine." you take a step backward and look at Borris in fear, but he says nothing. He does nothing. Despite the shared concern, nobody in the hallway moves. 
He reaches under his surcoat and pulls out a blade, saying, "An eye will do," before hurling it at your feet. "Don't you think it's a privilege? "I'm giving you a choice, one that I wasn't given." His tone almost makes you wince. You were reminded of his mother's words years ago, and you wondered what the likelihood was that he would give your eye to her.
You swallowed, working up the courage to say "no" as you looked down at the blade. It didn't come across as you had hoped it would; instead, it came off as much more hesitant and demure. 
He screams for you to give him your eye, and all the resentment he has been suppressing all these years comes to the surface. 'Not in my hall!' Borris screams, finally stepping in, but why did it take so long? 
The guards direct you outside, and you run to Dame. When you look up and see Vhagar gone, your heart sinks. You can feel yourself on the verge of a breakdown, and Dame can sense your panic. She nudges you with her head and you rest your forehead against hers. Trying to calm her, but trying to calm yourself more.
With the wind and rain blowing in your face, you hardly see anything as you ride through the storm. More than anything, you are terrified that you can't seem to find Aemond. 
Looking up, you assumed your heart would drop the moment you see a figure three times the size of Dame. As he circles Vhagar around you, his laughter and taunts can be heard. Several times the dragon has opened its jaws, and if Dame hadn't been so quick, you would have been dragon’s food a while ago. Sometimes you also have to dodge the prince’s arm reaching out to you. 
You make an effort to remain calm. Dame can sense your panic and it will only serve to divert her. Through the confined passageways of the sea cliffs, you briefly managed to escape Vhagar's grasp. However, there was a too-large gap and Vhagar suddenly appeared. Dame backed away, trying to protect you and herself, causing her to slam her side against a cliff's edge.
As Dame screeches in pain, you nearly fell over, holding on so tightly that your palms were burning. As Dame slowly descends, you can feel her wings fluttering as she tries to force her way upward. You are no longer guiding her at this point while she makes her way to a small island. The moment she’s near the ground, she collapses. It caused you to stumble and land on the ground next to her, feeling a sharp pain in your hip.
You feel lightheaded as you reach for the side of your head and see blood on your fingers. The rain is still there, but not as intensely as it was before. Dame is hurt; badly. Seeming to have sacrificed all of her remaining strength to get you both to safety.
But after hearing Vhagar’s roar, was it truly safe? You feel the ground tremble where Vhagar lands and Dame tries to move in and shield you but is too worn out to do so. The prince getting off his dragon should have made you fearful, but Dame's state filled you with fury instead. 
"I ought to have taken your other eye!" You screamed across. It seemed the sword had been lost in flight, but you still had your dagger, removing it from its sheath, and lunging at the prince. But he grabs you by the wrist with little to no struggle. Your other hand tries to move, but Aemond is much quicker. 
In a desperate attempt, you raise your foot to kick him in the knee; it causes him to falter briefly, but it also makes you stumble back down, wincing from the pain in your ribs. 
As soon as he regains his composure, you’re struck across the face with the back of his hand. You start to lose your balance, your ribs aching more and more as you try to breathe and your mouth has a strong taste of copper.
In your almost blurry vision, you can make out the dagger that was dropped when the prince struck you. Trying to reach for it, only to scream in anguish when Aemond slams his boot on your hand; your knuckles aching. 
Your shriek causes Dame to make a faint noise. Still, she’s unable to move. With your hand still under his sole, Aemond reaches down- taking your dagger in hand.
All of a sudden, you are on your back. Gasping when you feel a strong weight on your stomach. As you struggle to open your mouth to breathe, you are on the verge of screaming in agony, but the pain is so intense that you can only emit low shrieks of pain.
For a brief moment, you’ve come to your senses. And there you felt. You see it. A dagger inches away from your eye; your left eye. Out of instinct, you closed them. Wincing when feeling the tip touch the surface of your eyelid.
You cry out, "You-" trying to get the words out, "said it was a fair trade." Then a hand reaches for your throat. Struggling to breathe, desperately clawing at the hand, incoherent noises slipping from your lips.
"A fair trade?" He tightens the squeeze, baring his teeth as his face nears yours. "You made me a fucking cripple," he spits out. The panic on your face remains as your attempts to claw at his hand weakens.
Then he releases his grip, and you can finally gasp for air. Still, the dull rip-piercing pain persists. As you try to breathe properly, you can hear him speaking to you, but they sound so faint that they almost sound like murmurs.
You overhead him utter the word ‘whore’. He called your mother a whore. Your guilt weighs you down as you say nothing to defend her honor. As you do nothing as he continues to throw insults at your mother. It was you she loved the most, he said, her only girl.
His hand reaches for your face, catching a glimpse of your attention. Instinctively, you try to shrink away, but his weight keeps you down. Your hair stood on end when feeling his gentle touch, tracing his finger from the edge of your mouth to the eye he had just threatened to gouge out. Finally, he speaks, “I won’t take your eye, but something far more valuable.”
Gazing at him with confusion and dread; pondering his implications. At the realization, a bullet of panic rises in your throat. The smirk on his face, the way his gaze slides down your body, and most of all, the glow of lust in his eye.
No, no, no; you kept telling him, pleading with him. He moves away, his weight leaving you. Then you're pushed to your stomach. His hand is holding the back of your head. No, you persisted. He wouldn't. You prayed he wouldn't. 
The rain eventually stops as the storm begins to dissipate with the rising sun. One may think it was a wonderful sight, a beautiful day oblivious to the horror that’ll occur. 
Your voice cracks, pleading with the one-eyed prince. Tears and snot spilling down your face. Still, the prince tugs at your trousers, chuckling at the hearing of your pleas. "Virtue is all a lady possesses,” your septa said. 
Gods, how could you ever face your mother and brothers after this. Would anyone believe you. He will ruin you, and what madman would want you after this. What disgrace will you bring to your house, to your family, to your legacy.  
Your cries have grown more frantic. In the distance, you can faintly hear a low growl; Dame. Aemond scoffs when you try to call out to her. He tilts your head farther to the ground, turning to look at your dragon, laughing at her helplessness. 
By the time your trousers are fully down, exposing your lower body to the prince. His gloved hands caress your thighs, and you move them in response, causing him to grab hold of them. With his other hand, Aemond bites the glove off. 
His bare fingers touch your cunt, sliding his fingers through your folds. His other hand, gloved, grabs your hip roughly, holding it in place. He chuckles when feeling your wetness. Humiliated, this time it's you lowering your head to the ground. Recoiling at the taste of dirt on your tongue.
Gasping in surprise when he pushes two fingers inside of you. You don’t want this. You kept reminding yourself. But your body betrays you as pleasure overtakes you, hating how your body nudges itself back, sinking further into his touch. Even as the ecstasy floods your entire body, the pain from his hold on your hip still pierces you. 
Your gaze lands on Dame. She has been groaning and growling the entire time, but you've seen that for a while. She hasn't made a sound. Her stomach was no longer lurching up and down, and her eyes closed. Your sobs intensified when you realize her current state. Behind you, Aemond seems unconcerned, not even giving her a glance as he carelessly takes off his trousers.
You're turned on your back, facing the prince now. Once more, you plead with him. Trying to push against his chest as he clamps your hips down and layers his body on top of you. But your efforts are feeble. You understand it's too late now.
And then it happens. Exhaling painfully on instinct. His hard cock slides into you and you resent how almost easily it eases into you. Yet there is so much pain, hushed groans, and cries slipping out. And his unforgiving pace doesn’t give you the time to adjust to him.
He buries his face into your neck. "Fuck," he curses, "you're so tight, taking me in like a whore". Then you felt him bite into your shoulder; harshly. You were certain that the bite would cause bleeding. He leaves your hips, his hands reaching underneath your back. Bruises will be found later on. If you survive in the first place.
His hips meet yours, almost in an apparent attempt to bury his cock as deep inside of you as he can. As much as you try to resist him, your walls still tighten around him and he groans in return. “You take after your whore mother, don’t you," you say nothing, only tightening your fists.
Then, as his hair feathered your face and his lips inches away from yours, he removes his eye patch. You quickly turn your head to the side, refusing to stare, only to quickly come to regret it as you see Dame's freshly corpse.
A hand grasps your neck, forcing you to look at him, to look at the sapphire. And your gaze must remain fixed on him as he feels himself move deeper with each stroke. He's reminding you; you figure. That everything that led to this moment was caused by you and you alone. 
Hoping to maintain some part of your sanity, your mind wanders. All the while, Aemond places his palm on your stomach, gazing at your tummy bulge; how he must love how well you take him. Almost as if your body was made just for him. 
The touch of his lips brings you back to reality. His lips met yours roughly as if trying to flatten and demolish your mouth. As your mouth opens in surprise, his tongue brushes against your gritted teeth. He could test the blood in your mouth, gripping your head tightly as if he were trying to keep you from fleeing.
Against your lips in a breathy tone, he asks if you've gotten tighter. His sloppy thrusts have roused you, and your eyes are wide as you stare at him. You are aware of what he is about to do. So you try to shove him away. To take your maidenhood was one thing, but this. This was too far, even for him. 
He doesn't give a damn, and you can tell by the bites and bruises he left on every skin he can touch. He cradles you, mockingly asking what’s the matter, all while trying to maintain his ruthless pace. “You’re fond of bastards after all,” referring to your brothers, or as he likes to call them, the strong boys. 
He whispers in your ear, "It would only make sense for you to have one.” You continue to struggle and even manage to hit him, but your slap was feeble. So feeble like you. When hot cum floods your senses, filling you to the brim, tears stream down your face.
It took him a few more thrusts, and then he finally pulled away. Standing ups he puts his trousers back on. He nudges your thighs with his foot, and you instantly know what he wants. Unwilling to struggle, you open your legs, and you can see how much he enjoys the sight of his cum dripping from your cunt.
You can also see how much he enjoys the sight of your strained face and watery eyes. The way your wet hair sticks to your forehead. The way your neck and shoulders have scratches and marks all over. The way you're in pain. The way you're helpless. The way he ruined you. 
For a moment, you thought he would abandon you on the island. What a slow death that'll be. Perhaps you'll die from the infection in your wounds or from starvation. Your body might be found by a sailor, but it's more likely he'll find it when it's decomposed into bones. 
Instead, Aemond grabs your ruined trousers and forces them on you. Pulling you to your feet, but your knees start to tremble, forcing Aemond to support your side. When you see him guiding you toward Vhagar, you try to veer away, but he is far stronger. He forewarns if you do anything, Vhagar will turn you into dragon food, even if he orders her otherwise.
At king's landing, Otto and Alicent are horrified at the sight of Aemond dragging you to the council in the state that you're in.
3K notes · View notes
stiltonbasket · 2 months
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Post sunshot campaign, Wei Ying leaves his ghost jie jies to babysit A-yuan while he and LWJ cleanse the battlefields of resentful spirits!
LWJ is still spooked by the ghost maidens but A-yuan is having the time of his life with them, and since WWX still trusts them more than the Lan nannies, he lets them be. One night, WWX finds LWJ taking notes from them on how to swaddle babies, make the best nutritional baby food etc and he’s melting from all sorts of emotions ;;
On a fine, clear night in the middle of Guiyue, Wei Wuxian wakes at the stroke of yin hour to find his friend's bed empty.
Lan Zhan moved into Wei Wuxian's room when he first came to Lotus Pier, determined not to waste a single moment with A-Yuan, and he was usually still awake when Wei Wuxian began preparing for bed. Once, Wei Wuxian asked his friend why he kept staying up past hai hour; and Lan Zhan had only stared at him before explaining that he could not rest until Wei Wuxian and A-Yuan were tucked away in their warded bed, asleep.
"I spent the entire war fearing that I would lose you both," he said bluntly, putting a hand on A-Yuan's little head to steady himself. "I do not think I will ever cease to fear it. It might grow easier to bear, in time—but not yet."
Afterwards, Lan Zhan even gave up his habit of rising at maoshi and started lingering in bed until Wei Wuxian and A-Yuan woke nearly three hours later; so where could he possibly be at this time of night?
Puzzled, Wei Wuxian slides out from under the covers and pads out of his bedroom, leaving A-Yuan fast asleep in his crib. It shouldn't take long to find him, he thinks, as he wanders down the lamplit corridors in search of Lan Zhan. Perhaps he went out to get a drink of water.
But instead, he finds his errant beloved—and how strange it is to think of him as such!—in the company of one of A-Yuan's ghost nannies, Meng Leilan.
Meng Leilan was the gentlest of Wei Wuxian's dead servants during the war. In life, she was the eldest daughter of a once-wealthy merchant, whose estate was seized by a rival when he reneged on his debts—and Leilan, then eighteen, was sold into marriage as a magistrate's third concubine, while her younger sister entered a flower house as a yiji.
Leilan met her death at the hands of one of the other concubines three years later, after her first child turned out to be a son—and though she remained peaceful for the first few weeks after her passing, content to linger in the shadows of the nursery where her baby slept, she was forced to bear witness to the child's murder not two months after his full-moon birthday.
It was then that Meng Leilan realized that she had been murdered as well—for she had previously believed that her death was the result of childbed fever, having died in her sleep two weeks after her baby's birth—and arose as a fierce ghost before killing her husband's second concubine in as gruesome a manner as her tortured mind could bear.
But she spared the second concubine's son, unable to do any harm to a infant even in the depths of her resentment; and after Wei Wuxian brought her into his service and told her that she might do whatever she pleased to any Wen soldier who had killed a woman or child, she settled, and asked to remain in the living world as one of A-Yuan's nannies.
But Lan Zhan cannot rest at ease in the presence of Wei Wuxian's ghostly servants, even those who had never shed blood where he could see it, so what could Lan Zhan want with Meng Leilan at this hour?
Curious, Wei Wuxian makes his way to his beloved's side.
"What are you doing here, xingan?" he teases, nudging Lan Zhan's shoulder. "If you and Leilan were going out to play, you should have invited me!"
"I did not come out to amuse myself," Lan Zhan replies, looking heart-breakingly solemn. "But Yuan'er eats solid food now, and I wanted to know which of the dishes we have at the Cloud Recesses would be best for him. You were asleep, and I was impatient—so I came out to look for Meng-guniang, though I ought to have waited until morning."
Ah, Lan Zhan, Wei Wuxian laments to himself. He's been drinking my blood and eating solid food since the month after he was born. It's just that I don't feed him when you're in the room with us.
"Oh?" he says instead. "And what did Leilan tell you, then?"
Lan Zhan's fine mouth turns downward. "She said that a child born and bred in Yunmeng would fare poorly upon the fare of my clan," he says sadly. "It is fortunate that I asked her, or I might have stunted A-Yuan's growth. But now that I know better, I shall have to learn to cook."
Wei Wuxian's heart melts on the spot. "Oh, Lan Zhan..."
"But then again, I would have learned to cook for you either way," Lan Zhan tells him, rallying at once. "Yuan'er already takes hongyou in his baby food, so we might give him a milder portion of your food mixed with rice. What do you think, my heart?"
In answer, Wei Wuxian puts his arms about Lan Zhan's neck and tries not to burst into tears.
"That I can't wait for our wedding," he says thickly. "That's what I think, Lan Zhan."
At that, Lan Zhan looks so breathtakingly radiant—like a lonely white moonbeam fallen to earth and shaped into human form by the thrumming lingli in Lake Lianhua—that Wei Wuxian cannot help but kiss him, and fall back into the cradle of his arms as Lan Zhan tips Wei Wuxian's chin up and kisses him fiercely in return.
When Lan Zhan finally releases him, Wei Wuxian staggers backward, gasping—and finds himself clasped in Lan Zhan's arms all over again, for his beloved had seized him by the waist to keep him from falling over the side of the dock and into the lake below.
"Two more months," he says softly, smoothing his thumb along the line of Wei Wuxian's eye. "And then we need never be parted again."
He turns to bow to Meng Leilan, who inclines her head and vanishes in a cloud of lotus-scented vapor; and with that, they join their hands and walk back to Wei Wuxian's room.
Lan Zhan climbs into bed and falls asleep in less than half a ke, leaving Wei Wuxian to stare up at the ceiling with his fingertips pressed to his mouth in wonder—for somehow, it had not struck him that he and Lan Zhan will be married by the year's end until that very moment.
And then—
I'm going to tell him about A-Yuan, he resolves. Right after we get back from the discussion conference in Lanling. He'll love A-Yuan just the same, no matter how he came into the world—and he'll keep the truth secret for the rest of his life if I ask, even from Laoshi and Zewu-jun.
And with that, Wei Wuxian closes his eyes, and follows his beloved into slumber.
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everlastlady · 5 months
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Bloody Legend: Mammon X Reader 3
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✰- Author's Note: Day 3 of getting back into writing and writing part 3 of Bloody Legend. I still have to make icons from the new episode which I'll probably do today or tomorrow since I make icons on polarr because better filter options and I make my own filters. Happy November 1st, I hope everyone had a good Halloween yesterday and that last month was kind to you. I hope that this month is kind and gentle with you. Remember to eat a meal or a snack, drink some water, get some fresh air, take your medicine, and remember that you are loved. If you loved this story remember to comment, click or tap that heart button, reblog with tags, and blaze if you can. Always remember to support your local writers. ♡♡♡
✰- Story Contains: Mammon, Striker, Verosika Mayday, Angst, Tad Bit Romance, Sick Reader, Mammon Trying To Be Decent/Caring, & Scheming.
✰- Posted: 11/1/2023
✰- Series Parts: Part One | Part Two
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After finishing up autographs and getting pictures with fans. It was time to go home. Now you would think that you had your own place. But you don't! You live in Mammon's palace he thought it was a good idea because he was protecting you and it was easy to reach you. Also because he didn't want anyone at your place if you had your own place. You sat in the bath soaking up and enjoying the warm water and bath salts that smelled like honey and roses. You felt tired and sore. You eyes and muscle ached. After the bath you stepped out and threw on your robe. You stepped towards the mirror and looked at your reflection; still seeing nothing. You thought about your life and that you been through to have this lifestyle. But something about this didn't feel right... You ran towards the toilet and threw up. Breathing heavily you sat down on the cold bathroom floor. You didn't feel mentally or physically well. " (Y/N)! Guess who booked you spot on Beelzebub's morning cooking show! " Mammon yelled out bursting into the bathroom. But his gleeful expression dropped when he saw you on the floor. " Why are you on the floor? " Mammon looked concerned and knelt down.
Without your makeup that decorated your face. You truly did look sick and pale. Mammon placed his hand on your forehead. Now Mammon was a greedy man, he never cared about the well-being of others. He only cared about money and himself. Others well-being didn't matter to him. But seeing how you burned up and looked sick made Mammon's heart feel like it was cracking, he felt fear and panic. " C-Come on, let's get you into bed. I'll have the servants make you something to eat and bring you some medicine can't have my star all sick and looking like they are dressing up to see death. " Mammon picked you up and carried you out of the bathroom. He laid you down in the large soft bed. " Are you cold or hot? " He asked holding up the blanket. " Both. " You said in a tired voice. Mammon nodded and decided to go with a blanket that wouldn't make you too hot or cold. " I'm going to cancelle your appearances until you feel better. I'll find another way to make money, your new gig is to rest and feel better. " Mammon sat down on the bed tucking you in. Mammon felt like this was his fault. " I'll check on you in the morning. " Mammon did the unthinkable and placed a kiss on your head before getting up and leaving the room. You could hear him yelling at the servants to make you soup and get some medicine or throw them out the window.
You were surprised that Mammon had dropped what you had to do to make him and you money. You were surprised to see this side of him and especially the kiss. You pinched yourself to see if you were dreaming but you weren't this was 100% real. You laid there in bed and looked up at the ceiling. You weren't sure how long you would be sick but you hoped that it would be for a while because you truly wanted a break. The door opened as one of the imp servants brought you soup, water, tea, and medicine. You thanked them; you turned on the TV to watch your favorite show while you took the medicine and ate the soup. Eventually you finished and had falling asleep. Mammon walked in and saw your sleeping form. He crassed your cheek and sighed. " You need to feel better soon (Y/N) not because I need you for money. Because I'm worried, I never really felt this way but I care about you. So feel better so I can stop worrying and feeling scared... I think I love you... " Mammon said, looking down at you while you sleep. He saw how peaceful and comfortable you looked. You deserved a peaceful and comfortable life, soon he had a thought... He would give you that comfortable and peaceful life, I think it's time for another clown off.
Meanwhile back at Verosika's home she had sat at her mirror doing her skin care routine while Striker talked about what happened. " Ver, I can tell that (Y/N) isn't happy working for Mammon. They aren't doing this for themselves, they are doing it for that dumbass royal and their mom. All this working and pushing themselves if going to kill them. " Striker sighed. Verosika turned around and looked at Striker. " I know, I've seen that look they had because I had that look before, also that whole diet thing isn't healthy. But what can we do to help. Mammon has gold chains on them, would (Y/N) even listen to me to us? " Verosika said with worry in her voice. Striker sat there thinking and he remembered how you had bodyguards and how he gave you his card, Striker grinned and looked at Verosika. " Hey Ver, remember how you said I should give up on the whole assassin thing. " Striker smirked. Verosika knew that smirk all to well, so she also smirked. " Yes~ " She said walking over to him. " I'm going to see if Mammon has any openings for a bodyguard for (Y/N) and I'm going to make sure he has an opening. " Striker pulled out his gun and kissed it.
That night Verosika and Striker schemed on how they would help you escape from the puppeteer strings of Mammon. They also banged so yeah. Anyway next morning Striker was able to track down your body guards and make their deaths look like accidents. While you laid in bed eating breakfast and watching a Studio Ghibli movie. Mammon busted in and looked pissed. " (Y/N)! All your fucking bodyguards are dead, I knew spending money on those muts would be a waste now I have to find a way to get you a better one. " He muttered. You set aside your tray of food. You remembered Striker. You reached into your drawer and pulled out his card and walked over handing it to Mammon. Now this was a secret between you and Mammon but this bitch wears glasses. So when you handed him the card with a snap of his fingers, his glasses appeared. " Striker? Hmm, he doesn't pay a lot and he'll kill anyone. An assassin does sound more skillful and more reliable than a hellhound. I guess I'll hire him, go back to bed and rest. " Mammon patted your head with one of his hands as the other pinched your cheek. As he left the room, you smiled. You really enjoyed your conversation with Striker so having him as a bodyguard would be nice; like Mammon said, you went back to bed to rest.
With things going as planned. Striker stood in the kitchen making himself some breakfast. Verosika was out shopping while Striker was cooking his phone rang. He pulled it out and heard Mammon's voice. It took a while but Striker finally striked a good payment with Mammon, they don't call Striker, Striker for nothing. " Don't you worry your lordship, I'll be sure no one especially those creeps lay one finger ot breathe on your precious (Y/N), once she feels better I'll be sure to show up and protect them. " Striker hung up the phone and dropped the scrambled eggs onto his plate. He leaned against the counter and text Verosika know that everything was going as planned. They hoped this plan would work.
" That imp sounds more greedy for money than me. Paying him to protect (Y/N) better be worth it. " Mammon set down the phone. As he looked at the different posters that his assistants showed for the clown off. " I like the right one, it makes me look handsome. " Mammon snatched up the right one and looked at the large light green text that said clown off. He didn't want to do this so soon or replace you. You did make him a lot of money but just like Fizzarolli, you could be replaced. But this would be for a good reason. He wanted to give you a peaceful and comfortable life. He would ask you out or even marry you. So that he could forever give you a peaceful, comfortable life, and also spoil you. Because he would buy you anything you wanted and let everyone know that you are his. It would also make a cute love story. Mammon's mascot became his partner. Mammon looked at the picture of you on his desk. " Don't you worry (Y/N), you'll still be a bloody legend~ " Mammon said looking at the picture.
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Waaaa!!! I'm going to make a tag list for this series so if you want to be in the tag list just comment down belong I'll be calling y'all in the tag list Bloody Legends or Mammon's Clowns. So if you want updates for this series just comment down below <3
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mysticmeena · 1 year
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Um, hellooo! I saw you up requests and I wanted to give a try but feel free to reject this. May I ask for a reader who isekai'd in the way to protect the female lead's older brother long before roxana was born. The reader mother is a nanny(do they allow that?? idk) of lante when he was younger so reader and him sorta grew up together. And then when he became the head, he had the reader became his kids nanny/caretaker and as one of his righthand. Pls and ty!
ᴍᴇᴇɴᴀ ɴᴏᴛᴇs : hiii darling! no clue what lante's background was other than he overruled his father so this is my speculation of it. i may or may have not gotten carried away by the reader's backstory that i may or may have not create another post for it 👀 also this somehow became an alternate universe somewhere around the end oops -
part two is here
𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐊𝐀𝐈'𝐃!𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
❥ so you isekai'd in the way to protect the female lead's older brother's world long before the story started? congratulations! and you even became the daughter of the female lead's father nanny? good luck trying to survive.
❥ somehow, you managed to survive up to your late twenties as LANTE AGRICHE trusted servant and closest confidante. which was shocking, to say the least. but you know deep down, he held some sort of genuine affection for your mother since his mother passed away.
❥ and you two had grown up together despite being in different worlds from each other. even after your mother's death, he kept you around as he killed his father and took the position of the head of agriche. even as he changed for the worse, you remained by his side.
❥ whether it was out of obligation or sincerity, you no longer knew why you stayed beside him. but you know why he wanted you. after all, your mother made her mark on him and so did you. people found it odd that he didn't try to marry you just to keep you by his side since it was more effective. but you both knew better than that.
❥ it was the consequences of your actions, you thought to yourself, as he burned your marriage requests in the fireplace. anything that allowed relationships beyond his family, his household, and especially himself was an absolute no. but that's fine. who needs friendship and love anyway?
❥ besides, as he began to collect his wives and mistresses ( much to your disdain ), you knew the story was gonna start soon. and despite knowing the end for this household, you still wanted to change a few things. and what better way to start as lante made you the official nanny of his children.
❥ FONTAINE was an eight-year-old child when you first met him. to make his father proud. at first, he wasn't quite fond of you as you took most of his father's time but eventually, he liked the maternal affection you gave to him. he felt entitled to have your time. in return, you made sure he kept at least some of his morals growing up. you unfortunately weren't able to stop the rebelliousness growing in him and could only hope he would make wise decisions. ( yes, you made sure to tell him the deficits of incestuous relationships and frightened him enough that he would see his female siblings as competition which is progress at least. )
❥ GRIZELDA was only a toddler when she first approached you about a book you were reading during your time off. you knew she was the only agriche to have magic so the pressure on her was high. when all was against her, you were right by her side to hold her steady. that and you two had bonded over books together. as she was young, it was you who tucked her into bed and told her stories and tales you knew from your past life and current. even as she grew older, she loved hearing interesting stories that came from you. you always made time for her even when you were busy with taking care of lante's work and the children. always reminding you to take care of yourself as well.
❥ ASHIL was only a year old when you met him. sierra was a wonderful and sane woman so you often visited her. ashil reminded you of a golden retriever and you became fond of him instantly. he always asked for your help and was ready to help you if you had any problems. the day you knew ashil failed the exam, you beg to lante to give spare ashil so you may take him as your own. because of your shared past, he reluctantly did so. it was the only way for him to live safely even if it meant taking him from his mother and sister. though the mother-sister duo thanked you profusely. especially as ashil pledged to protect you along with those he considered as his family. even as he grew stronger and older, he kept true to himself.
❥ DION was also a baby when you first carried him in your arms after maria's birth. while she complained about the baby's looks and disappointment, you saw another baby to love and cherish. lante and maria's parenting only got worse so you took matters in your hands and had him stay with you and ashil. he was quite a curious and mischievous boy, always finding trouble to drag his older brother with him. luckily, ashil had infinite patience as an elder sibling and always pulled back dion when necessary. it was also rather cute to see dion and roxana fight over who gets more ashil and your time. the older dion grew, he began to resemble more of his father which worried you. but when he smiled that playful smile at you and his close siblings, the anxiety vanished as you returned the smile.
❥ ROXANA was unsure about you when she first saw you. she hadn't remembered you being mentioned in the novel along with the evident changes. you were an unpredictable variable so she was cautious around you. it took some time but after saving ashil, she viewed you as an angel descended from the heavens to protect them. and she let you into her small circle and her heart. eventually, you told her of your past life which shocked her. so that explains everything! but she felt the comfort of another person in her situation just as she did and swore to protect you as well. despite your warnings, she still went ahead with the butterfly project knowing it could shorten her life. so you made sure to take care of her despite her pouts to relieve your, ashil, and sierra's worries. and cassis came along as the story unfold, he could see how important you were to the children of agriche. you liked to tease roxana and him often after he escaped.
❥ JEREMY was clingy and touch-starved when he first met you as a young child. he had just returned from his brutal class with a harsh wound, unable to hold back his whimpers. you found him there and gathered him into your arms to your room so that you could heal his wounds. his mother didn't even see and he watched her commit suicide with his own eyes as she refused to interact with him. since then, he has been attached to you by the hip. you were his mother. that was what he called you, openly especially since the others addressed you as either aunty or nanny. you were one of the few people who could stop jeremy from his violent tendencies with a word or a touch. he didn't want to scare his mother after all.
❥ CHARLOTTE was easily attached to you as she had a rocky relationship with her mother. you were more of her mother than her mother and she loved it when you praised her. it was a competition again between her and jeremy which gave you enough headaches as you recalled the rivalry between dion and roxana before. history had a way of repeating itself. still, like jeremy, you had a way of calming her down. with her hothead and brash personality, you helped her try to control it so she wouldn't get into any more trouble with lante and her mother. she loves it especially when you call her by her nickname 'lotte' since it was her first nickname she received.
❥ though all the agriche kids were raised as they were, you became their moral support and someone they genuinely care for. it was you who put yourself between lante and themselves when they were punished. and if you couldn't stop it, you always attended to their wounds and stayed with them for the night, as they rest on the couch. how could they not love you?
❥ even lante couldn't do anything as he found it a good reason to keep you in the agriche mansion. which was his biggest mistake. even as his top children began to plot against their father, you also went along with it as their spy. after all, lante was no longer the boy you grew up with and you had to open up your eyes. and if he had to be disposed off so that you could protect the children, so be it.
❥ after the night the agriche household fell, it was you placed the final blow on lante. and you had to witness fontaine demise from cassis's sword, though some small part of you mourned for that eight year old boy you knew long ago. and as roxana's health declined, you sent her to cassis in hopes that there was a possibility she could be healed.
❥ you were named as the matriarch of the black agriche, a title placed by the children you cared for. and quickly enough due to your past experience as lante trusted associate, you began to help raise the agriche from the ground and to a hopeful and brighter future. so you decided to burn agriche mansion to the ground and make it a new and better mansion.
❥ for a future where your children could make better memories in the new home you created for them. even as some of them stayed by your side or went on traveling around, you always made sure that they would have a home to come back to. but to them, you were their home. you accepted all of them as they are and cherished you for it. they would burn the world down if you asked them to.
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dimepdf · 1 year
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★  𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔. + 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑
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masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. you were the one who said you'd devote your entire being to your king, so Eren make you prove it .
─── ☆ notes. i did, finally my first royal!au i've been sitting on this since i first made the post 3 days ago but had it held back because i hate proofreading so much lmao .
─── ☆ length. 3.5k ( 29 min read ) .
─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, royalty au, king!eren, servant!reader, minor mentions of death, pwp, porn with plot, authority kink, stretch marks are normal, Eren is kinda cocky, manhandling, grinding, biting, marking, oral sex(f), rough sex, clothing sex, dom/sub undertones, fingering, floor sex, slight size kink, reader got that million dolla pousay!, breeding kink, unprotected sex, aftercare is important people, multiple orgasms, does this count as baby trapping? | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍
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Your king Eren had a handful of staff hands littered about his wide estate, from the knights standing guard in the courtyard to the long line of maids dusting the dark maple oak window seals in just the east wing section of the castle every morning. 
As far as being a maid went, you were part of the arrangement of hired workers devoting their being to making sure the bloodhound king himself, Eren Yeager, was satisfied enough in his own home to not become a victim of his raised sword. 
You were one of the lucky ones, still having your head attached and in charge of disposing of the body and making sure no traces of the poor victim's blood had stained his wooden floors.
He was a strong man, an even better warrior, and the pinnacle of estranged power, dominating the vast expanse of acres as well as all of the people within his domains. 
Eren was stronger in many ways than just his towering muscular build, but a man who had a track record of bodies behind every step to prove the blood he would be willing to spill in order to keep his wealth and title.
Even though he was king, Eren spent most of his wealth on his unhealthy habit of violence, starting many wars just because he would feel bored and angsty sitting on his high throne for too long, wanting nothing more than for his hands to be wrapped around his blade.
There was no genuine evidence that he was a good man, nor had he ever claimed to be one.
In fact, he was well-known among the women for his deft fingers, embracing any who had fallen firstly for his dangerously striking looks. Though most only wanted one thing in return, all hoped to be the next to claim the empty throne next to his.
Willing to sully their title as honorable women to spend a night in his sheets in hopes to persuade the heartless monarch to let them carry his heir. 
All those women met with the same sad, unfortunate fate. 
Finding out with a swing of his sword that King Eren didn't care too much about being tied down by anyone, especially some of the beautiful women that would gravel at his feet.
Though he, too, would fall victim to the many eyes that would expose all of his dirty deeds. A man with a title so powerful that a target had been emboldened on his head, millions were wishing and plotting his death, and yet you were the poor soul assigned the task of caring for him.
There wasn't really a job description when you first acquired your role as one of the king's servants. 
Being a young woman coming from a poor family within his territory, the fact that you were even trusted enough to work for royalty after a simple background check was enough to bring your parents to tears. 
Nodding at just the promise of a chestful of gold that would be divided out to each of the staff for pay was enough to pay for the life you risked knowing that it would all go to feed your family for months.
You worked hard to stay out of the way of any trouble, to keep your head down and do your job, and to make sure that your family back home was fed and cared for with each paycheck. 
Eren had eyes everywhere, even if it hadn't seemed like it, especially to his enemies.
He had seemed to be just another carefree, young, spoiled royal with so much power in his hands that he hadn't known what to do with it, but they were all wrong.
It was your deviation to keep away from everything and stay alive that had caught the king's attention in the first place. 
One year you're just a lowly maid scrubbing the main entrance floors until dark bruises form on your knees, and then all of a sudden you're appointed as the king's personal maid, combing through his thick, dark mane as he soaked in his lavender-scented bath.
It was unruly for you as a woman to be in the same room as a naked man who had been as bare as the day he was born, let alone being so intently close to contact with him. 
To have your fingers scrubbing at his scalp, learning with the experience of your position that you just had to swallow most of your dignity working so close behind the king who had not much care for societal norms, the king who liked doing whatever he pleased whenever he could. 
Many of his workers were used to his taboo way of life, and he would often stride around his estate with his chest bare from a shirt. 
Knowing the scars that littered his torso and the muscle that showed off his drooling figure struck fear into the hearts of any impartial observer.
It was almost like a show of dominance daring anyone to test his thin patience knowing he was willing to throw down any task for a good brawl.
The same scars that you had been ordered to sponge, becoming acquainted with the wounds that you had been left to tend to every night.
Stiff with every move would you do your best to keep a fair distance away from the man that you were ordered to groom.
The luxurious bathing room was silent, except for the small splashes made by your hand as you rinsed the sponge through the water. As you rolled up your sleeves and sat on your knees, leaning down to claw your fingers through his scalp, the air was thick with hot steam.
Eren leaned against the final stepping tile leading into the small pool carved into his flooring. Even though you normally enjoy working in silence, there was something about Eren that had you counting your every move and the times you were alone with him.
You found it a bit strange to see him not hugging his blade, instead becoming a quiet man who valued his peace above all else, his eyes closed as he relaxed under your touch. 
This gave you even more reason to be afraid of breaking his calmed trance, fearful that even the smallest mistake would result in your exile, so you did your job meticulously.
Although he would die before admitting it to your face, that was what Eren had found the most intriguing about your character.
He would secretly admire you from afar, finding something so appealing about your personality that made him want to have you by his side all the time.
Eren knew the sensation he was experiencing was more than dangerous. That lusting for someone with such a lowly title as yours made him convinced that the feeling in his chest was caused by an illness.
Throughout his time knowing you, Eren ordered many doctors to visit his private chambers in search of the reasoning behind the hard thumping that had shaken his ribs every time he had seen you. 
It only took a few beheadings to discover the fact on his own that he was experiencing "normal human emotions," much to his dismay.
With his arm hunched to keep his head resting out of the water, Eren sat in view of your cleavage, just at the end of his sight.
He could count how many sighs that had passed from your lips, as you strained to scrub every inch of him as he pleased clean until your fingers were sore. 
His gaze lingered as your skin was practically glowing from the steam of the water, your brown dark skin glistening with small beads of sweat that trailed down to your exposed cleavage.
Eren had not enough shame to take a few peeks at your low-cut shirt, revealing the plump of your breast.
"Would you say you were devoted to me?" His voice cut the air roughly, his deep cadence gravelly yet low, as it was difficult to predict what expression he would adopt next.
Your body was trained to come to a halt to hear his every word, "Well?"
His brow furrowed in irritation at your hesitance, the silence after his question quickly becoming an annoyance to him. If there was one thing Eren despised more than anything else, it was not being answered the minute he had wanted to be.
“Well of course, my king.” Like a fool, you nodded your head like a bobble toy. 
As he turned his body fully towards you, the slosh of water wet your white cotton dress at the skirt, dropping the sponge in the bath water.
"I devote the entirety of my being to you." It wasn't entirely true, but the lie was born of survival instinct since you weren't one to let your pride get in the way of saving your life.
It hadn't seemed worth it, though, judging by the dangerous glint in Eren's eyes, it was as if he could tell that you were lying. 
Sending a shiver up your spine, you took a different route instead, bowing your head to the floor to break away from the intense eye contact.
Resting your forehead against the cool tiles, you became suddenly aware of how hot the blood in your veins ran under his stare.
"Your entire being, you say. How naive of you." Your ruler hummed.
The harshness of his response was expected, however, the insult still managed to make your heart lock in your chest.
A secret part of you was also ignoring the way your thighs squeezed together in response to his stern tone.
Even with your head bowed, you could feel his menacing stare, his dark eyes bored at your pitiful figure. "Come prove to me that you are as devoted as you say."
You hesitated to raise your head, your eyes widening as your attention latched onto his bare chest.
Tracing over the water that made his pale muscles glisten under the light that spilled through the colored glass windows decorating the room in a different arrangement of colors.
He looked down at you like a goddess, his expression ominous, waiting for you to obey his command.
The smirk hid behind his hand, telling you that you wouldn't bother to turn down such an offer not because he was your king, but rather because he knew you wanted him as well.
Another minute of hesitance to tick him off making your next move was lazy.
Standing awkwardly to your feet to remove the straps from your shoulder, you avoided his lingering gaze as it swept over your body with a new sexual intent of adventure.
The torso of the fabric slips down to your waistline, hugging your curves and reaching down to tug yourself out of the rest of the dress.
Standing in just your bra and panties before him, your arms crossing against your chest to comfort yourself. Your eyes meet as Eren lets his lips part, letting out a satisfied hum at the sight of you. You could only watch his movements as you watched him lean in closer.
Allowing his fingers to brush against the mid of your thigh.
His touch was at first gentle, Only tracing up to your stretch marks before his fingers would need themselves into your flesh, squeezing at your legs watching as they dented marks with his nails.
"Perhaps I wouldn't mind dying so, if it meant being suffocated in between your thighs." You'd felt so exposed, shivering as he fondled you and complimented the part of your body you were insecure about, and yet you couldn't stop the soaring heat in your core.
You swallowed as Eren motioned you forward, taking his hand in yours as you stepped into the water. 
The temperature change causes goosebumps to run up your leg, his grip tightening around your wrist with each step until you are fully immersed in the tub, following the guide of his grasp into his lap.
Even with the fabric of your undergarments coming between the two of you, you could still feel the outline of his hardened dick pressing against your lower stomach.
Eren's arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you forward and leaving you gasping at the sensation of him twitching against your stomach at the unexpected friction. 
"My king," you pester, your hands gripping his shoulders to brace against his legs.
"You shouldn't be doing this with someone as lowly as a mere servant." 
Eren had practically purred from your touch, his gaze flitting down to your soaked bra. 
He succumbed to his desires, leaning forward to press a trail of kisses against the crook of your neck, your nipples poking through the material.
His path soon found your lips as his mouth pressed against yours with hunger, his tongue parting your lips as he moaned down your throat as if he were in pain.
The string of saliva that connected your lips to his was disregarded.
Eren shifted your hips with just the push of his arms resting under your thighs to rut your stomach against his erection.
"Who are you to tell me what I should and shouldn't do? I fuck who I please when I please," he hummed, his hand gripping tightly at the plush of your thigh, a taunting warning to remind you of who was still in charge. "Am I understood?"
It was a miracle that you were even alive based on the way he glared up at you, there was just something about the way his stare looked as if he were about to strike you dead at any given moment.
You wanted to melt at the expression that he made, making you seem like mere prey that had been caught in his trap, ready to be eaten at any given moment.
It was an absolute pleasure to be pressed against his toned muscles, with his strong forearms guiding your hips as your bodies seemed to move purely out of greed for each other.
Both desired nothing more than to pursue the pleasure obscured by the steam that surrounded the bathing room. 
You couldn't feel shameless for having fallen into King Eren's lustful trap, too busy whimpering against his touch, and he hadn't even penetrated yet, but somehow you still felt so twisted up inside.
With each movement, you whimpered poor noises that echoed off the tiles along with the slosh of the water, becoming a bigger mess as you started to fall apart by the seams.
His touch tarnished every part of your body he touched, leaving you wanting more as his lips followed with a kiss.
Parting your lips from the sensation of his teeth impacting your soft skin and leaving small bruising marks as he did with the rest of the territories he had owned.
He had arranged you to angle you just right, the perfect position for him to urge himself just between your lower lips, only your underwear keeping him apart from where you had truly desired him to be the most. 
Given the severity with which he had pressed against you, it appeared that your king felt the same way.
The angst in his touch as his fingers moved quickly to remove the final obstacle to finally fondling your clit, flinching as his thick fingers nudged you apart. 
As his thumb circled your clit, his pointer and middle entered you, causing your body to tremble. You struggled to hold yourself upright, your hips bucking widely at the stimulation and crumbling limply forward into his shoulder.
The moment Eren picked you up with his other arm slung under your knees, lifting you up only to lay you with your back against the dry floor tiles, you were reminded of his fortitude. 
He parted your legs with his elbows, leaving them wide enough open as he rested his palm against your belly to stop your squirming and lean down between your thighs. He'd buried his face in your cunt the second he slid off your panties, tossing them to the side.
The first thing you felt was his tongue, sending a shiver up your spine away from the ground. His arm rested against your thigh to keep you from smothering him, while the other rested toying with your clit making work of his mouth.
You couldn't believe the sounds that came from your mouth, foreign to the pitch of your moans as they echoed through the room alongside the lewd squelching around his finger of your wetness. 
An almost animal-like growl vibrated against Eren's lips as your hand knotted tightly in the black nest of his locks grinding against his face, your mouth moaning out the rest of your pride. “I think I've become rather fond of the taste of you.” 
Your body had trembled at the sound of praise, the complement to the treasure that he saw in your body.
Your eyes slit as you watched him wipe traces of your arousal away from his face with the back of his hand, the glisten of his pink lips as his tongue dragged over them tasting traces of you on them.
Bare, he crawled out of the bath, settling on the tile with his hands and tugging you closer by the hook of your knees.
You hadn't bothered to winch at the uncomfortable feeling of the tiles scraping against your back, instead dividing our attention to more pressing matters.
Like how he slotted himself against your body, his chest pressing into yours as he lined himself up and buried the hilt of his length deep inside of you.
Your legs were quick to wrap around his waist, encouraging his thrust to become deeper with each stroke. His almost crushing weight against your smaller frame with each thrust that raised your stomach. 
Your insides felt like they were melting as he was completely stirring up your poor guts, clenching at the pleasure that it had brought hearing his struggling groans against your ear. 
You felt the brush of his canines against your shoulder, his head tucked away in the crook of your neck to pierce into your skin once more.
His bites were not hard enough to draw blood but enough to keep him from opening his mouth to whimper from how amazing it felt inside of you to listen to the sound of your own punched-out moans.
His rhythm was steady, wide strokes that left your thighs trembling each time his pelvis kissed yours. It was only a matter of seconds before your first orgasm pushed past the challenge that was the strength you had clenched around him.
Eren fucking you through it had you convinced you were seeing stars from how tight your eyes were shut moaning for your king like your life was on the line, you were starting to understand why women would flock to him so closely, beginning to comprehend the allure of his charm having to witness it all firsthand.
His strokes became toe-curling, slowing down to catch his breath as his hips pressed yours to the floor, tucking himself just as snuggly as his hips shifted hungrily against yours. 
The jolt of his own orgasm shook your frame as his last pumps carried a burst of energy, dawning back just to fuck you deeper and stuff you full as he released inside of you.
You had been to bed with only a finger count of men before, yet had Eren been the first to finish inside of you freely. 
There was something dangerous about the way he felt tucked in so deeply, twitching against your walls, as he gave you the possibility of bearing his next heir.
It took you a few minutes for your mind to process the reality of the situation that had just occurred.
Not only had you just had hot sex on the floor of a bathing room, but you had also just been fucked silly by your own king of all people, not to mention the part where he was leaking from between your legs.
Eren seemed to realize the gravity of the situation around the same time you did, sighing as he looked down at where you had met.
"Forgive me for acting so brash, but I've been wanting this for a long time. You must understand my unrest."
The apology came after he finally had pulled out, the sight of him still hard in his grasp making your mouth wet.
His touch had turned so gentle that it was almost foreign having him aid you back into the bath.
With a new sense of yearning, as he rested you with your back against his chest in between his legs, you sat welcoming the water's warmth as the back of your head rested against his shoulder.
Soaking in as much of his suddenly rare, gentle mood as you possibly could.
You knew that his love would come with some sort of flaw, but right now, you were in his arms, and that was all that mattered.
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coralinnii · 2 years
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being reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy pt.2
feat. Azul, Kalim
note: this is kinda a long post, can be interpreted as gn!reader, reader is different for each character, I might write blurbs cuz I like the villain/ess genre
part 1 part 2 part 3
series masterlist
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Did the universe hate you? You pondered your past life choices that may have condemned you into this hopeless situation. You didn’t even like this webtoon you unceremoniously got sent to because the main characters were nothing but self-centered idiots. Worse, you got reincarnated as the lovesick betrothed of the male lead, who was going to have their engagement annulled then be abandoned by your greedy family.
Really, the only reason you even kept reading was for the cool if somewhat dorky count who rose from a nobody to one of the successful business figures in the kingdom…Hey now…
So now you were sitting across from the one and only Azul Ashengrotto as he sized you up with a business smile as his servants prepared refreshments. For as confident as you try to be, the ball in his court and your future cushioned life is dependent on him. At least the twin brothers from that marquis family weren't here.
“So, what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”
“I’m going to let you use me”
“Urk—!”
Ah, you should’ve waited until after he finished his tea.
Aside from your love life, you were winning in every other department. You were a high ranking noble as well as a beautiful social butterfly of high society. You weren’t ahead of the trends, you were the trend and since you knew the story of this world, you knew what were hits and misses in the market.
“I can give you want to know in the high social circle, whatever you have me wear or eat with my appraisal, I can make it the biggest trend of the season. All I want is a cut”
As skeptical as Azul was, he couldn’t disagree with your points and he was sure he could spin this partnership in his favor considering you were thought to be a lovesick puppy (hah, he thought). With a lengthy discussion on the contract (a meager 10% cut on your side? Really, Azul?), the two of you shook on it.
With a smile too innocent to be real, you offered “Should we go on a date?”
Oh, you were going to be the death of this man.
Your “dates” were just spending the day in the village disguised, surveying promising businesses, cuisines, and artisans (though a flustered count is also a win in your books). With your insights and Azul’s careful research, high society was eating out of your hands, waiting to see which business would receive his Midas’ touch.
You kept your contributions hidden as you didn’t want your family to monopolize your share and secretly hoped that your family and fiancé would still care for you even without these merits. Perhaps you were more hopeless than you realized.
While your soon-to-be husband was off somewhere without informing you (though you already knew where he was going, and who he was going to), you paid a visit to your favourite restaurant which happens to be owned by your favourite associates. The more you spend time with Azul and inevitably the Leech twins, the more you yearn for a life with this much joy.
“Hey Mandarin fishy” oh, Floyd is lucky he’s so adorable. “Your future hubby is awfully chummy with that little remora” he noted as he casually slung his legs over your own, sounding nonchalant but you could see the flicker of curiosity in his mismatched eyes. “You ain’t scared the love of your life’s gonna run away?”
You knew the story’s coming to its climax as the “love of your life” is messing around with that baron’s daughter. Soon, he will announce the annulment in front of everyone and you will be “abandoned” for his true love.
Your eyes then glanced over to your business partner discussing the logistics of the shipment of jewelry materials with the other marquis heir. Despite your casual nagging, you did admire the genuine effort the bespectacled businessman puts in. However, you could see the twitch towards your direction, curious of your thoughts as well.
“Cute” you hid your smile as you took a sip of your favourite blend of tea (how considerate of Azul), “If a little remora was enough to convince that idiot to make a fool of himself in front of our families, then I’d count it a blessing to be rid of him”
Floyd laughs at your heartless dismissal while even Jade let out a chuckle under his breath. You couldn’t help but smile at the scene before you, at the people you hope to call friends (and maybe more in the future with a certain someone). You saved enough to buy a quaint home in the capital (Azul recommended a home conveniently close to his own) and there were pre-orders of delectable tea that became a hit when a wealthy traveler from a foreign country offered a sample at the restaurant, being well handled by the fair-haired count in front of you, guaranteed to be ready for your next social tea party.
As you notice the subtle quirk of a genuine smile on your diligent business partner, you feel content with confirmation.
You definitely prefer smart men.
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No, no, no, no! This can’t be real!
It’s one thing to reincarnate as a servant of a wealthy family, must you be reincarnated as the servant that gets executed for poisoning the oldest son?!
This was the start of the dramatic novel you just finished where you, a new servant of the Asim family, were in love with a greedy relative, who persuaded you to poison the heir to cause turmoil in the mansion. Your younger sibling was sick and your “lover” promised to give you and your sibling a good life if you succeed. Sadly, you knew you were just a scapegoat in their plan.
It hurts even more that the intended recipient of the poison was your bias, the lovable Kalim Al-Asim who doesn’t have a single bad bone in his body. But what could you do? The poison was in your hand and your execution was practically cemented, whether by the hands of the Asim family or by your “beloved”.
Feeling hopeless, you submit yourself in front of Kalim, his father, and his attendants with the vial in hand. You confessed the plan to poison the heir, how that traitor promised to save your sibling if you followed them. You pray that maybe they would banish you and you could run away with your sibling, for however long you could before that relative would eventually eliminate you.
You didn’t even realize you were crying until the fair-headed heir cradled your face in his hands and wiped your tears from your glassy eyes, his own scarlet eyes watery.
“I’ll save you and your family!”
Unable to change Kalim’s decision, your attempt of treason was overlooked, and Kalim even sent the best doctors to see your sibling.
Shoot, this man sure knew how to capture your heart.
Of course, your testament isn’t enough to prosecute the greedy relative so you offered yourself as a poison tester should they attempt the second time. If the story stays on path, that traitor isn’t going to stop anytime soon.
Since then, you worked to prove yourself a devoted servant to the Asim family, especially to Kalim who brings you around to try every cuisine and street food that tickles his fancy. Even Jamil, who was very skeptical of your motives, deemed you harmless (apparently, he decided he could easily disarm you if you do attempt anything).
What made you and Kalim really close (though Kalim was a fairly affectionate man to begin with) was when you offered to help with his studies. You were familiar with certain subjects as they were similar in your old world and having someone around helps the energetic heir to focus. Every time Kalim would call your name with that bright grin of his never fails to bring out a smile of your own.
Your closeness with the oldest son did not go unnoticed. Soon, the traitorous relative came up to you as you were on your way to see Kalim. They gave you a second chance, to kill Kalim then they would forgive you after your failed poisoning attempt. Obviously, you told them to f*ck off stop their plans and leave before you call the guards.
Suddenly, your vision and body became disorientated as you fall to the floor with a sting on your cheek.
“You insolent commoner! You think anyone would care if you get hurt or even die? Don’t make me laugh!”
They slapped you. Your body is shaking from the shock of such sudden violence. You looked up and saw the traitor standing over you with rage as they raised their hand again. You were too slow to stand so you had no choice but close your eyes and grit your teeth as you anticipated the next hit.
Except it never happened.
Instead you were gently lifted to your feet. You turned to see Jamil assisting you to your feet as guards surrounded you and the traitor, with Kalim standing between the two of you.
You have never seen the usually jolly heir like this. His laid-back demeanor was almost non-existent as he kept his weapon pointed at his relative with a glare that seemed deadlier and sharper.
“You…” you've never imagined such an icy tone from your master, even at his worst until now. “You may be family, but I will never forgive you for hurting my precious treasure”
With his command, you saw the traitor pulled away to his awaited fate. Kalim then turned to you and he worriedly rushed to you, cradling your face in his hands to inspect your injury. It’s funny. It’s just like when you first met him.
“Master Kalim, thank you so much” you wanted to say more but honestly, you couldn’t find the words to truly express how much you love this man.
With his show of his signature grin, he replied “Of course, I’ll always save you”
2K notes · View notes
asumofwords · 7 months
Text
Smoke, Fire and Ash
Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Court, death, mentions of violence.
This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.
Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)
Masterlist
Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.
Note: Hello angels! We are getting closer and closer to the end! Only 3 more chapters to go, I can't wait to finish this with you. I know I sound like a broken record, but jesus! I've had this bad boy ageing in my computer waiting to be posted haha. Anyone, Enjoy! <3
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Chapter 107: And So The Tide Rushes to Shore 
The news of the seizing of Kings Landing by Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen spread across the realm like wild fire. There was no corner that had not heard the news, nor person that had not swallowed in apprehension.
But the promise of war was over.
There would be no war.
No torching of the realm and its innocents, no destruction of Keeps and homes and livestock. No call for men to join armies and fight for the throne in a bloody and violent death. Nor women and children who would be left alone without their fathers, or husbands.
However, now was a time where the fragility of her rule would hang upon a delicate thread, and although Rhaenyra had her supporters, there were still those who had supported Aegon’s rule, and then subsequently Aemond’s.
The Small Council of the Greens had been rounded into cells by guards and knights. Gold cloaks flooding the Keep at the order of Daemon, a man who they had kept their allegiance to for all his time spent away.
And as Rhaenyra had personally escorted you, alongside Daemon, towards your original chambers, the ones that you grew up in, and not the one that now housed the corpse of your late husband, you walked quietly, dagger still in your hand, Daemon’s fingers unable to pry it from you just yet.
The corridors were a mess of Lords and Ladies, maids and servants who rushed and fled, were captured, and otherwise scattering like ants as they were unsure of what to do, or what was to come. 
Above you, four large dragons, circled the Keep, crying out into the air. A vision of red, and green, and pale pearl flying about as they surveyed the Red Keep below. One outsized them all.
The bronze scales of Vermithor shimmered brightly in the sun.
A sob of relief fell from your lips as you watched him, looking up at a dragon you had been separated for months from, not being able to see him or know he was okay. There was agitation in his body as he flew, but otherwise he was safe.
He was safe.
And he knew you were too.
When you had gotten to your chambers, Amala and Joanna were already there, waiting, wringing their hands together in anticipation. And upon seeing you, Amala had gasped, and ran towards you, hands checking your face for wounds, no doubt shocked by the blood.
Daemon turned to the girls, “Fetch her some water for a bath.”
And with that, their fussing and stress stopped, and they sprung into action, running from the chambers. Both girls eyes dragging over your body and the crown atop your head as they exited.
It was weird to be back in them. 
The chambers that felt alien to you now.
You stood in the room you had once called your own and breathed, slowly walking over to your old table to place the dagger atop it, finally feeling safe. Finally feeling as though you didn't need the blade any longer. That the last piece of safety Aemond had given to you had served its purpose. And it was then that you breathed, truly breathed. Breathed for the first time since coming to the Red Keep.
It was over. 
It was over.
You stood as you were and watched the maids return, another younger girl in tow, blonde and thin, who bowed and introduced herself quietly to you, ‘Ceryse, Your Grace’, eyes widening at the blood on your skin and hair before she averted her eyes, face having turned ashen.
Daemon and Rhaenyra waited with you as they filled the bath, and as the chamber doors opened once again, you had expected one of the girls to be bringing more water to rinse you with, but instead, you were met with a pair of deep brown eyes. 
Jacaerys.
You sucked in a sob as he raced across the chambers, crashing his body into yours as he gripped you tightly. You almost fell backwards from the clashing of your bodies, arms curled under his and up his back, squeezing the leather riding tunic he wore to you tightly. 
He smelt of dragon, of musk, and the subtle sulfur of dragon flame. But most of all, he smelt of home.
You half sobbed and half laughed, overjoyed and grieving all at once in his arms. Hands shaking around him as he squeezed you tightly. His chest shaking as he sobbed himself, holding you outwards in his arms as his eyes roamed your body, looking you over.
He was taller, so much taller than he had been, and broader too. His hair was long against his shoulders and curled, pulled behind his ears by braids.
"You're here." He breathed, as though he was even unsure of it. As if seeing you had confirmed that his greatest fear had not come true.
You nodded, hand coming to touch his jaw gently. He grabbed the wrist that held his face tightly, emotion pouring through his eyes as he shook. And in a turn of familiarity that you only knew from Daemon, he rested his forehead against yours and breathed, eyes shut, brown lashes clumped together and wet as he fought the tears that escaped them.
"I'm here." You breathed, "I'm here."
The rest was a blur.
A blur of reunion, a blur of being bathed, the milky water below turning a soft pink, to an earthy copper as the blood was washed from your hair and face. The maids scrubbing your body with a sponge to pull the dried blood from your skin, Rhaenyra not once leaving your side.
One of the maids had to bring her a chair and tell her to sit down as she anxiously stood between you and the door, eyes darting back and forth, the fear of having you taken from her again ripe.
But nothing had happened. No knights entered to take away, no Greens supporters came to call, no Alicent, or Jasper, or anyone. Just you and your mother, who insisted on brushing and braiding your hair, and you had let her, tears cascading down your cheeks as she hummed to you.
A familiar tune.
Something the maids had sang to you a long time ago, but this time, it was the song of the Goddess Meleys, and you had cried even harder.
She had been there all along.
That evening you dined with your family, exhaustion burrowed deep within your bones.
And it was still all a blur, it felt like a dream still. Sat with Rhaenyra, Daemon, Jacaerys, Rhaenys and Baela around the table in the intimate dining hall. 
It was almost like it had been before.
Before the war. 
As though this was as it was supposed to be. 
Almost.
And whilst they celebrated the victory quietly and solemnly, toasting a cup towards you which you lifted your own in response, there was no denying the grief that lingered in the foreground. No denying the grief of the loss of Lucerys and your sister. Their palpable absence. The grief of the war and time lost, of your own child, of Aemond.
Tears escaped your eyes, and you were thankful to be with them, but for the most part, sitting with your family, it felt as though you were watching them all through somebody else’s eyes, as though you were watching from somewhere else, or that you were a puppet from Flea Bottom and somebody, high above in the clouds, was pulling your strings, stretching your cheeks into a smile, nodding your head in agreement, ears listening to tales and comments of relief without truly listening. 
It was not a loud and joyous celebration. In fact, it felt more like a funeral, like the one for Laena, like the one for Laenor.
There was no music, there was no dancing, but it was enough.
It was enough to just be with them, to just be in their presence, hear their voices, be able to reach out and touch them if you wanted to. The subtle scents of their own, curling around you in a soft blanket.
You had reached for your goblet at one point during the night, mouth having gone dry at the mention of Aegon, and you had to hold in a scream, eyes finding your hands covered in blood once more. Your eyes had widened in shock, a small inhale ripped into your lungs, and Daemons careful eye from across the room had spotted you.
And though the maids had washed and scrubbed you vigorously, cleaning under your nails with careful hands, even though you knew in your heart that you were clean, it didn't stop your mind from seeing them soaked red with your lovers blood. Covered as they had been that morning.
And he was there.
Watching.
By the corner of the room.
Eye never leaving you.
But you kept a brave face, if only for a while longer, not daring to look where you hands would reach, grasping blinding in front of you, resulting in wine spilt and worried eyes. You had blamed your tired and shaky hands. For how were you to explain that when you looked down upon them you saw the proof of your misdeeds. The proof of your sin. The proof of your betrayal.
Then all too soon, exhaustion creeped over you, and your mother, noticing the shift, escorted you back to your chambers, and readily tucked you into bed, sitting on the side as she looked at you with nothing but love. She brushed your hair from your face, and without a word, climbed into bed beside you. She pulled you to her tightly, and you curled up against her, nestling your head into the crook of her neck to breathe deeply.
And as your eyes were closed, you let yourself pretend that it was him.
Sleep dragged you under, and no dreams haunted you this time, though you felt his presence behind you. And when you woke, still in her arms, her hand was holding your head against her as she breathed, fingers absentmindedly carding through your hair in thought. You shifted, looking up into her lilac eyes which seemed to be shadowed, dark rings on the skin beneath.
She had not slept.
“Did you rest?” You asked, eyes darting across her face as you shifted to sit up in bed.
“I have not slept since the day you left. And now that I have you in my arms again, I am frightened that my eyes shall close, and when they open and you will be gone.”
You swallowed thickly, “I would never leave you.”
Rhaenyra gave you a small smile, though edges pulled down into a frown.
“If it is your wish, I would not keep you here in the Keep. If the memories are-“ She paused, unsure of how to move on, “If it is too much to bear, I would not hold you here. I would not force you to stay.” She whispered, brushing your hair from your face.
You frowned at her, “I am your Hand. I am bound by duty to be at your side.”
Rhaenyra let out the breath she had been holding before she nodded, “Duty be damned, I think you have performed yours and then some, more than I ever would have asked you to." She breathed deeply, "The rest of the council and my men shall arrive today. There will be a trial, to convict those who have plotted against me. Those who aided Aegon in the usurpation of the throne. And those who kept you here.”
You shifted in the sheets as you looked at your mother. 
Her soft brows pulled slightly together, the frown lines that seemed to now permanently mar her skin, were present with the movements of her lips, which she pressed together into a thin line, moving to open again.
But you beat her to it, “Then we must be ready.”
And so, you were dressed in a black leather bustier, with large winged shoulders, the neck of the leather coming just below your chin. It was a shorter gown, coming just mid calf, and beneath, you wore black trousers and leather boots that tucked them inside, just below the knee. Across your chest was chains, hooped and long against your bust, each end being the opened mouth of a dragon on either side.
The girls braided your hair back, gentle and soft in their movements, both working together as they used small pins with red jewels at their tip to hold your hair up and off of your neck. And all the while, your eyes did not leave the Conquerors Crown that was placed atop the table, smears of blood on the steel and ruby.
Rhaenyra had already left, to be dressed and readied for court in her old chambers, joined by her husband. But you were rooted on the spot, unable to move as you looked at it, watching as the light from the sun caused the ruby to glimmer.
A blood red.
Blood.
Like the blood that had covered you. Like the blood you had tried to stop at Aemond’s neck. The blood that spilled through your hands and his and soaked the sheets and pillows below. The blood that had soaked you.
You would not dare look at your hands, for you knew what you would see.
You blinked and moved towards it.
But it was your crown.
Yours by right.
And so you lifted it, placing it atop your head, revelling in the weight that it pressed down your neck. The weight that then settled in your chest and gut. 
With determined steps, you left the chambers, blade tucked into a holder at your side, dried blood still smeared across its blade and hilt as you walked swiftly down to the throne room to meet your Queen, and meet with the rest of the council and Lords of the realm.
All ready to see and watch the true heir to the Iron Throne be seated where she should have always sat, from the moment Viserys had passed, and for her to cast down her judgement on those who went against her. 
Traitors and turncloaks alike.
When you entered the throne room, it was bursting with life, and the floor where Larys had laid was stained with his dried blood, a large smear across the stones from where his body had been dragged and removed.
All eyes were on you, each step echoing in the chambers as the people quietened, and your mother lifted her head.
Your father stood at the foot of the throne, Jacaerys beside him, as you came to stand before her.
Ser Erryk Cargyll announced you to the chambers, presenting your titles to the room, “Hand of the Queen.”
With a bow of your head, foot sliding beneath you, you pressed your knee upon the floor and reached a hand up, grasping the crown from your head as you held it towards her, “Your Grace, I give my crown lands and titles to you, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, the true heir to the Iron Throne.” When you stood again, you looked up at your mother who smiled gently at you.
“Princess Y/n, my daughter and first born, you have earnt that crown valiantly, through months of tireless work.” Her voice rose in the chambers, all still as they listened, “You may hold it in your possession, as a reminder of your deeds.” You could feel the eyes of all in the chambers flickering on the back of your head and then to the Queen who sat atop the throne.
“Your acts of bravery have not gone unnoticed, nor has your role in winning this war, and returning the throne and all the realms to me rightfully.” Jacaerys shifted at your fathers side, a small smile pulling at the side of his lips, “And at this time, the succession for the Iron Throne has changed.”
What?
Your breath stopped in your chest, eyes darting to Jacaerys who gave you the slightest tip of his head.
“Let all who stand here bear witness to the naming of my true successor. A successor who had been promised the throne once before.” Her eyes met yours, “Let it be known, that in the eyes of the Realm and before the Old Gods and the New, that my daughter, Princess Y/n Velaryon, is my heir and successor to the Iron Throne. Duty of the Hand of the Queen shall be placed upon Ser Corlys Velaryon.”
Heir.
Successor.
You blinked.
You were her heir.
You were the heir to the Iron Throne.
"But now," the Queen continued, "Is not the time for talks of succession and my rule. Now is the time to bring forth traitors and turncloak's who broke their oath to my father, King Viserys, and to me, the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms."
The sound of men around you shifted as they bowed their head towards you, your face in pure shock as you looked at them.
“Now,” The Queen boomed over the rising whispers in the chambers, “Bring forth the accused.”
You stepped on unsteady feet, unsure and uncertain as you came to stand beneath the throne on the opposite side of your brother and father, both who beamed at you with pride. The Conquerors Crown still in your hands, the cool Valyrian steel pressing into your palm.
But as the doors to the chambers were opened once more by guards, you had snuck a glance at your father, who was already watching you, and gave you a promissory nod. And so with certain hands, you lifted the crown once more, and settled it against your scalp.
Wild auburn hair appeared first, and then a gown of deep green as Alicent Hightower was dragged before the Iron Throne by Gold Cloaks. Each one stood behind her as her hands were locked in chains at her front, eyes flickering from you, to Rhaenyra, and then back to you.
And then you began.
“Lady Alicent Hightower. Dowager Queen of King Viserys. You stand before Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Roynar, and The First men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. You are bought here to be charged with crimes against the Crown. You are accused of treason.” Your voice carried through the chambers, the chains on Alicent’s wrists knocking against each other as she picked at her hands, fingers raw and bloody.
“You are charged with conspiring against the Crown to usurp the throne with Prince Aegon Targaryen and Ser Otto Hightower. You are charged with the conspiracy to cause harm to a Princess of the realm, and her wrongful imprisonment.”
“Rhaenyra, see reason. I beg you. Your father-“ Alicent began to plead.
“-My father,” Rhaenyra’s voice boomed, “Is dead. And you kept that hidden from the people for days, and rushed to crown Aegon as King in the Sept before the realm. You usurped the throne from its rightful heir and King Viserys’ successor, whom your House swore fealty to. Do you deny your charges?”
“I beg mercy! I only did as I believed was right. Viserys told me before he passed that he wished Aegon to sit the thr-”
“-You will have chance to make your own petition, Lady Alicent. Do Queen Rhaenyra the curtesy of letting the charges to be heard.” You held your head high, mimicking the same words she had said to your mother, a long time ago, “If the Lady Alicent Hightower speaks out of turn once more, cut out her tongue.” You watched as her face ashened, and her brows pulled together in desperation.
“You supplanted the Iron Throne’s rightful heir.” Rhaenyra growled, “You sent Aemond to slay my son, Prince Lucerys, the heir to Driftmark, who was an envoy in Storms End. And you have kept the Princess, my heir to the Iron Throne prisoner in this Keep under the hands of your rabid sons.”
“Please, Rhaenyra.” Alicent begged, “Am I to pay for the crimes of the wants of a father on his daughter? For the crimes of my sons? We were close, you and I. Friends!”
Daemon snickered beside the throne as he watched the Hightower woman beg.
Rhaenyra straightened, “What good is a friend who plots and grooms her sons into usurping the throne from its rightful heir? Their half-sister? From her supposed friend? These crimes are treason. And there are witnesses. A Maester who was slain here. Maids who had watched. Gold Cloaks, and servants, and Lords alike witnessed your crimes, Lady Alicent. Do you deny these charges?”
A tear fell from Alicent’s eyes as she sucked in a shuttering breath.
She stayed silent.
Rhaenyra looked at the woman from down her nose before speaking once more, delivering her conviction.
“For your crimes against the Crown, against my blood, and against the people of the realm, you are found guilty. I, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Roynar, and The First men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, sentence you to death by dragon fire.”
Alicent’s face morphed into horror, “No! Rhaenyra, please! I beg mercy! We are but women who had our hands forced by the men around us!” She cried into the chambers as she was dragged out by the Gold Cloaks, “What choice did I have?! Imprison me, Rhaenyra, I beg this of you!”
Alicent Hightower’s voice faded down the halls and walls she was dragged down, pleading for mercy, begging to the Seven for help. But the Seven did not hear to her prayers, for the Stranger was already on their way to take her.
Maester Orwyle was next, and the man stood silently as his charges were given to him. He did not speak, nor did he rebuke them, or plead for mercy. Instead, his dark brown eyes stared into your mothers with nothing more than disgust and pure hatred, until he was pulled away, the same way he came, back to the holding cells of the Dungeons you had once spent your days in, with his verdict. 
Guilty.
It was this way until the whole of the Green Council and turncloaks was laid before your mother, each one individually brought before the Queen, had their accusations of treason laid. Some were given the option to bend the knee to Rhaenyra and serve her in exchange for their lives, others were not. 
None, bar Lord Jasper Wylde, bent the knee.
And all, bar the Master of Laws, was sentenced to death.
The chamber of the Iron Throne was ripe with energy. Nervous, excited energy from Rhaenyra’s supporters as they watched on as they delivered the sentences to those who had betrayed or turned cloak against her. 
And then, the court was dismissed, and the Lords and her supporters were led outside of the Keep, to the mouth of Blackwater Rush, where a flat grassy knoll lay before the cliffs, and a worn path for traders was trodden upon. 
It was there where Lady Alicent Hightower was led, beside her Maester Orwyle, Ser Tyland Lannister, and the turncloaks, Lord Bourney, Butterwell, Mootey and Rosby stood in a line. 
The oceans breeze ruffled the cloaks and hair of all those in attendance, and Rhaenyra was the last one present. The final person to arrive. 
Above you, the large and excitable screech of a dragon who would finally be reunited with its rider. 
Alicent looked up the skies in fear, her hands clutched tightly together in prayer as she shut her eyes, mumbling to the Seven, begging for mercy, and guidance, and promises of good servitude if they grant her her life.
But dragons did not answer to the Gods.
Nor were they inclined to show mercy.
And so you watched, in delight and anticipation, as the large bronze dragon landed against the grass beside you, purring into the air with his large scarred snout, mouth full of jagged teeth opening, and eyes dancing over you. 
All watched as you reached out to touch him, the dragon rumbling deep in his chest as he leant into your hand. The bond sent sparks through your fingers and arms as you leant a forehead against him, breathing in his dragon smell, sulfur and smoke, and the distinct almost reptilian stench that they all carried. 
But your true reunion would have to wait, for the Queen and realm were waiting on you.
It was only right that you delivered the blow of justice. 
As heir.
As now stand in Hand before Corlys.
In fact, your mother and father had been most insistent upon it, if only you wanted to. 
And the Gods knew that you did.
The crowd of people shuffled backwards as Vermithor’s long tail beat against the ground forcefully, vibrating the earth beneath.
Alicent Hightower jumped in her spot, knuckles white as she stared at you in fear.
“You are guilty and have been charged of treason-”
“-I am innocent. I beg mercy, please. Rhaenyra, see reason!” Alicent cried out into the soft ocean breeze, her words lost to the crashing swell. Rhaenyra blinked impassively at the woman.
“Reason?” You parroted, “Mercy?”
“Please, it was the ambitions of a father onto his child. I had no play-“
“No play? None?” You sneered.
There was that rage again.
“I beg mercy. I will work in-“
“-Where was your mercy for the Queen when you usurped her throne?” You stiffened, Vermithor behind you growling, sensing your anger through the bond. 
“Where was your mercy for her sons? For Lucerys?”
“I was not at-“
The Bronze Fury shifted behind you, head coming to loom forward in the space beside, teeth bared as he growled at the woman who dropped to her knees in fear, legs giving out beneath her.
"Where was your mercy when you locked me in a cell? Where was your mercy when you let him rape me? Defile me.” You took a step forward towards her, “Hurt me.” 
Another step, and ice spread through your chest, “Where was your mercy when the King broke into my chambers?” You spoke dully this time, but inside you was the fire that you had hidden. Trampled by your own hands and feet in order to keep on, to keep moving. 
To survive.
Vermithor lifted his head into the sky and cried out shrilly, all around him flinching from the sudden movement. His large jaws opened, and a plume of fire shot into the air, the heat falling down around you hotly. 
You looked down at the woman who started it all. 
Her children. 
The usurp of your mother. 
The war. 
Lucerys. 
Syndor. 
Visenya. 
All of it.
“You are found guilty of treason, for the usurpation of the Iron Throne from its rightful heir. You are guilty of crimes to the Princess; Daughter and heir of the Queen. You are guilty of hiding the death of King Viserys from the people and Lords to conspire with turncloaks and oathbreakers. And you have been sentenced to death.”
You stared into the eyes of the woman before you, tears cascading down her cheeks as she looked up at you and pleaded, begged for her life, begged for mercy.
Prayed. 
Her hair was messed, her robes were crinkled and green, and as you looked at the woman you felt a surge of rage.
“Dracarys.”
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lyomeii · 1 year
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a darling not loving him anymore
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->warnings: yandere themes, death mention, reader is at first blind loving this man, angst, comfort(?)
-> request by anon! We don't get enough of Claude(From WMMAP) so here's the scenario I've been thinking for awhile. Reader is someone that's a daughter from a high positioned noble who wanted his love more than anything. (This happened after diana died) The reader doesn't care that he killed someone, she just wanted his love! But after seeing that Claude hated her guts, she left and found a sweet and loving fiancé. Now when she left, Claude felt something, Emptiness.. Now his obsession kinda grew..
->a/n: uhhhhhhhh! love that idea anon ;) seeing this type of tropes always bring myself up and not to mention how satisfactory is too see the male character fall in love with the mc after she leave him! AHHH! sorry, just to anxious and happily to write it ;) also no more posting til Monday since i be doing tests and then playing overwatch
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-> the news of the emperor getting married reach the nobles and public ears, both surprised of such event since his lovers death years ago, so that made many people curious to find out who is the luck person to marry the emperor
-> and that person is you, a daughter one of the greatest general the empire, know as a sweet woman who deeply care about everyone and is often seen helping those in need, a unexpected but perfect match to Claude, yet he doesn’t see that way
-> he only married you for two obviously reason, your father asked him to do that in order to protect his precious daughter from older men praying in you and the other one is the amount of the people irritating him to get married to a noble lady, so yeah, he doesn’t see you in the same way you see him
-> the way your eyes almost become a heart shaped when he is in your view, your hugs when you are both alone, the beautiful robes you gave him in honor to his first love and spending time with his daughter to get know them better
-> to the servants at the palace is easily noticeable how deep is your love toward Claude and Anathasia, yet they also noticed how the emperor doesn’t really care about your presence at the palace, in fact, in recently times, he start to avoid you all costs
-> when you are taking care of Anathasia and asked to a nearby servant to ask Claude to play with his daughter with you, they quickly answer that the emperor is busy with his works, at first, you seem to believe them
-> however, as times goes, you start noticing how you stop seeing your husband anywhere and in those rare cases you manage to catch a glimpse of him, Claude is far away and playing with your stepdaughter, you felt a mixed of feelings
-> at first, you are happy that he is finally spending time with his daughter and he looks joyful! Yet, you feel sad to not be part of it and as much you want to talk about it with your husband, he still ignoring you everyday, and not even letting you spending time with Anathasia anymore
-> without much option to do, you ask Felix about your husband’s actions in the past few days and well, it did open your eyes to realize how Claude feel about you, the knight tried his best to use better words to describe what the emperor feel about you, but the damage was done, you realize that you were nothing to Claude and that will never change
-> feeling horrible, you decided to go into a divorce, as much that sound a terrible end to a noble lady married to the emperor, you finally felt happy, knowing that maybe one day someone will truly love you the same way you loved Claude
-> the last time you had a proper conversation with your ex-husband was the day he signed the divorce and let you go back home with your belonging, speaking how much Anathasia missed you and asked him what will happen to you if you left her
-> even loving the little girl, you said goodbye to the palace, promising to never return to this place and finally going back home, where you cried to yourself to sleep for being such idiot to think that Claude loved you
-> the gossips about the divorce was quickly spread by the commoner, yet many didn’t seem to be angry at the previous empress, some of them told many others how the emperor coldly treat his wife during her time at the palace, others spoken how he ignore her every moment and treated her as a stranger
-> yet, the gossips about the divorce of their emperor were stopped after months when they receive a new that made them happy, the sweet woman, once the empress has finally engaged a man who is consider her the gorgeous woman in the world, the lucky man is none than Rogers Alpheus
-> once again, the empire become festive knowing that the poor noblewoman has finally find her true love, not suffering more pain coming from the cold emperor
-> in the other hand, Claude felt emptiness, with you away from the palace, he though he would become happier with Anathasia, yet he miss your presence
-> your hugs, laughs and smiles, those were what brought joy inside the cold palace, and his daughter was happier when you were live with them, but he only noticed it too late and now you are gone from their life
-> the servants notice his attitude change and all of them knew the reason why, he was invited to you wedding with Duke Alpheus, Rogers gave the invitation himself as a respect, but asked to the blonde not coming since that will bring down your joyful behavior
-> and Claude agreed with the Duke, when the wedding happened, he didn’t participate but he waited in the shadows to see your face after you left the cathedral and was worth it
-> you dressed in the most elegant white dress with a bouquet full of beautiful flowers, and how your expression only show happiness with your new husband standing next to you while the guest congratulate the new couple
-> that’s the opposite of your previous wedding with him, the only person present was the priest who made you two married, the dress you wore was simple and he was wearing his usual clothes, still you were so happy to married him, but now you are marry to that man
-> not for long though, Claude will find his way to the top and bring you back home, where you will spend your life with his and your sweet daughter
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aemonds-fire-writes · 4 months
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The Sapphire Spell Ghost Aemond x Female Part Six - The Kinslayer Lives
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Summary: Can a spell cast by Alys long ago bring Aemond Targaryen back to life centuries later in Westeros? When the remains of the Kinslayer are found and put on display in a Cabinet of Curiosities, the ghost of Aemond discovers the proprietor’s beautiful daughter is the only person who can see or hear him.
Dark Ghost Aemond x Female / Slow Build / Dark Romance
Word Count: 3350
Chapter Warnings: Angst
Not beta read. Any mistakes are my own.
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You’ve been in your room all day, sobbing, broken with grief and guilt.
When your father still hadn’t arisen past time for breakfast, your housekeeper knocked on his door to check if he was alright. Worried when she received no answer, she hesitantly entered the room and found him still in bed. Alarmed to find him with eyes open but not breathing, the housekeeper had your father’s physician summoned immediately.
The physician determined angina pectoris to be the cause of death; in layman's terms, his heart failed. Why, he could not say for sure. Over exertion, mental strain, or possibly an unknown defect of the heart, he speculated.
But you thought you knew why. You had never seen him so angry as he was last night. Some of the servants heard him yelling at you; they knew you had done something terrible to enrage him like that. ‘This was your fault,’ you tell yourself.
Not wanting to face anyone, you stayed in your room, refusing to eat and suffering through bouts of heartbreaking sobbing.
You couldn’t even summon the will to go and see Aemond, though a part of you sorely wished he could comfort you, wanting simply to be held while you cried out your sorrow.
You remember little of that first day without your father—just endless tears. You only force yourself from your bed and dress when informed that your father’s solicitor will be coming to discuss arrangements regarding his affairs.
The solicitor is a kind and soft-spoken man and a longtime friend of your father’s as well. Seeing your distraught state, he tries to console you by assuring you that arrangements according to your father’s wishes have already been made so you wouldn’t have the burden of making decisions. He informs you that the funeral will take place in two days.
Before leaving, he encourages you to rest and eat, promising to return to escort you to the funeral.
You still do not wish to face anyone, not even your beloved staff, some of whom you’ve known since childhood, choosing to remain in your room. You’ve stopped crying for now, feeling that you have no more tears and wishing for numbness to take over.
Only when it is past midnight and sleep continues to elude you do you quietly don a robe and shawl and slip over to the museum, desperately seeking solace.
Signs are posted on the doors, informing the public that the museum is closed until further notice. Walking through the collection, there seems to be a gloominess here, as if the items your father collected and treasured are aware of his loss. You wonder if this can ever be a happy place for you again.
Aemond is awaiting you at the top of the stairs, watching you approach with concern on his face. “I wanted to come looking for you. I’ve been worried.”
“Aemond, he’s gone,” is all you can cry out; just speaking of it brings a fresh swell of tears.
Staying by your side, encouraging you to sit on a nearby bench, “I know. I…felt something. And I overheard some of the workers talking.” He stammers a bit with his half-truth, painfully aware that he is the true cause of your grief. “I am truly sorry.”
Barely able to look at him through your tears, you cry, “It’s all my fault.”
He lowers himself so that you are eye-to-eye. “Look at me. Do not blame yourself; it was not your fault,” he insists. “He was angry with me. He only wanted to protect you. If anyone is to blame, it is me.”
Yearning for any easing of your pain, you wish you could fall into a warm embrace, but all you can feel is his icy chill surrounding you as your tears continue to flow. He stays with you while you cry out your grief, murmuring reassurances to you. Eventually,your sobs wane, leaving you with tear-swollen eyes and an aching head.
“I’m sorry for going on like this. I just feel so alone right now,” you lament between sniffles, wiping the tears from your cheeks.
“You are not alone, nor will you be,” he whispers to you. “I wish I could do more for you right now, but unfortunately I cannot in this state."
Nodding your head slightly, “I can bring the sapphire to you, but the next two days will be difficult for me. I will have to receive guests, and then there will be my father’s funeral.” You sigh as the thought of it fills you with sadness. “But I want to be here if you need my help.”
“Then we will wait until after the funeral,” he decides. Reassuring you with a gentle smile, “I’ve waited this long. I can wait a little longer."
The two of you quickly form a plan, settling on the evening after the funeral, when you have an excuse to give your household and museum staff time off to mourn, and you can plead tiredness and grief to give you time alone.
You feel grateful to have him with you. Despite how vehemently your father was against your trying to help Aemond, you are determined to aid him. You believe no one should have to suffer what he has. Though his legacy may paint him as a killer, you have spent hours with him, growing quite fond of him.
“Thank you; I do not wish to burden you any further,” he insists. “Now you should go and rest.”
Feeling exhausted, you only nod in agreement, though you wish you didn’t have to leave him.
As you head towards the staircase, Aemond says, “I am sorry for your pain, but everything will be alright.”
Thankfully, you do sleep through the night and wake feeling a little stronger. It still feels like there is a hole in your heart, but you now believe you will somehow get through it. You let the housekeeper and cook fuss over you, trying to persuade you to eat breakfast. You manage to eat a little, though the food has no taste.
The next day and a half passes with you simply going through the motions of what is expected of you. You somehow manage to get through the funeral without breaking down and sobbing like a child, but the effort leaves you exhausted. You already informed your staff they could take the rest of the week off, with pay, to mourn. Despite their misgivings, they heed your plea for time alone. The last to leave is your father’s solicitor, who is also voicing concern about leaving you on your own. Finally, you convince him that you simply need time.
Once you have the house to yourself, you gather a few items and the sapphire and make your way to the museum.
Filled with nervous trepidation, you meet Aemond near the glass casket holding his remains. You brought some of your father’s clothes and a blanket with you, which you set nearby. He and Aemond were about the same height, though your father was more burly in build.
“Aemond, do you have any idea of what will happen or how this might work?”
Still staring at his bones, he quietly says, “No, I do not.”
“I’m worried for you. What if it doesn’t work or if something goes wrong?”
“You know I have to try."
Nodding your head, you accept the fact that he is determined to do this, despite the uncertainty or the risk. Your hands shake as you unlock the lid of the casket so you can open it.
Aemond gives you a determined look before telling you, “Once you have placed the sapphire, I want you to leave. Go back to your home and stay there."
Shaking your head in disagreement, “No, I should stay here. What if you need my help?”
Now shaking his head at you, he argues, “I don’t know how this will work or what it might look like. I don’t know how long it might take.” Pleading with his eye, “Please go; if it works, I will come to you.”
Not wishing your final time together to be an argument, like it was with your father, you agree to do as he asks. But holding the sapphire in your trembling hand, you are suddenly overcome with apprehension. You cannot stop staring at him, thinking that you cannot lose someone else this soon and that there are so many things left unsaid between you.
As if he can read your mind, Aemond smiles and says, ”Do not worry. We will talk when this is done.”
After placing the bright blue gem in the eye socket of Prince Aemond Targaryen’s skull, you turn and reluctantly head back down the staircase.
It is still dark out when you wake, having dozed off on the couch in the parlor. Checking the time, you realize it is the middle of the night. Feeling stiff from sleeping awkwardly, you stand, trying to stretch the kinks out of your muscles.
After leaving the museum, you tried to occupy your mind while you waited, but it was no use. You worried and paced; you stopped yourself several times from going back to him. Even though neither one of you has any clue as to how long this may take, you are worried because it has been hours since you left him.
Unable to wait any longer, though fearful of what you might find, you climb the grand staircase to find Aemond. As his display comes into view, you let out a gasp as you see that the glass case that has held his remains for months is empty and some of the clothes you brought are scattered about the floor. Seeing no sign of him prompts you to call out his name.
A faint groan to your left gets your attention. Your eyes go wide with shock when you see a figure with long tousled hair, wrapped in a blanket, huddled against the wall. Crying out his name again, you rush to his side, kneeling on the floor next to him. Placing your hand on his shoulder, you feel flesh and bone beneath the blanket.
“Aemond, are you alright? You ask frantically, worried about finding him in this state.
“Yes, I’m alright.” His reply is weak, and his voice is raspy. Even turning his head toward you seems to take effort for him. “I have no strength,” he murmurs.
Unable to stop yourself, you rest the palm of your hand against his sharp jawline as your eyes take in his face. The first thing you notice is the warmth of his skin instead of chilling cold whenever you were near him. You see the blue sapphire fitted in place of his missing eye and the old scar that runs from his forehead down to his cheek.
When you brush a few locks of hair off his face, he gives you a soft smile. His hand reaches up to find yours, weakly wrapping his long fingers around your smaller, more delicate one. You’re captivated by the sight of life in his eye, the pinkness of his lips against his pale skin, and his subtle masculine scent.
Stunned that the inconceivable has really happened, you can’t hold back the soft giggle of pure happiness that escapes your lips. “It worked. I can’t believe it,” you whisper in awe.
You hear him breathe a deep sigh, slightly nodding his head. “Thank the gods, it worked.”
“How do you feel?”
“I still feel weak, but I’m alright.”
With your shock wearing off a bit, more practical concerns come to mind. “We need to get you next door. Can you get up?”
Nodding yes, Aemond manages to get to his feet with your assistance, though he continues to lean against the wall for support. As he stands, the blanket slips down, revealing that he is bare-chested. Unaccustomed to seeing a man in any state of undress, you quickly try to avert your eyes, feeling flustered.
“My apologies; I tried to dress, but I felt so weak. I needed to rest for a moment.”
Hoping the warm flush you feel creeping across your skin isn’t too obvious, you try to reply lightly, “It’s alright; at least you managed to get the trousers on.” Risking a glance at him, trying to focus your eyes on his face, you ask, “Can you walk?”
Leaning on you, with his arm around your shoulders and your arm around his waist, the two of you slowly make your way to the residence. You can feel him struggling with the exertion while you are torn between fear that he will fall and the feeling of his bare skin under your hand. Finally, making it to the parlor, you help him ease down on the couch and leave him to rest while you fetch a shirt and slippers for him to put on.
You help him put on the shirt, but not before taking in the soft-looking patch of blond hair in the center of his chest, faded old scars against the paleness of his skin, and his long, lean torso. With your ladylike manner becoming more ruffled by the sight of him, you hurry off to make him some tea.
When you return to the parlor, you have a tray with tea and a plate of food for him. Sitting on the couch with him, careful to maintain a proper distance, you pour two cups, and you feel the need to ask again, “How do you feel?”
He pauses for a moment before answering, running his fingers on the velvet of the couch, fascinated by the texture. “Better, though I fear it may take some time for my strength to come back,” he answered distractedly. You watch him look around the room and then at you. “Everything looks so different. To be able to touch things... " He shakes his head, struggling to put his feelings into words.
“I’m sure it will take some time to get used to everything,” you tell him. You take a sip of your tea, trying to reign in your swirling emotions. You’ve sat and talked with Aemond as a ghost for hours, coming to feel quite comfortable in his presence. But being around him now as a living, breathing man is causing you to feel awkward and a bit on edge.
Aemond is quiet while he drinks his tea and tries some of the different foods on the plate. You weren't sure what to bring him, so you kept it simple, giving him some biscuits, cheeses, and fruit to start with. You can’t help but smile watching him savor the flavors and textures, and the light meal seems to be helping him.
When he’s finished with everything on the plate, he leans back with a satisfied smile on his face. “That was the most delicious food I’ve ever had.” Turning to look at you, his smile becomes a happy grin.
You can’t help but chuckle at him. “I’m sure you’ve had far better than that, but I’m glad you enjoyed it."
“I’ve mostly forgotten the taste of food; it’s like I’m experiencing it for the first time. Everything feels new to me. I’m not sure if I am making any sense.”
Right now, it is easy to allow yourself to be swept away by his wonder and joy in the simplest aspects of life. And you try to push aside the thought that has creeped into your mind about your beloved father.
Aemond sees your face dim with your sorrow and extends his hand to you, not taking yours in his but waiting for you to accept his overture.
You waver for a second before placing your hand in his, knowing that physical contact with him will stir more sentiments in your already tumultuous state, but still craving comfort from your pain.
“Forgive me, I haven’t thought to ask how you are doing with all of this,” his soft spoken voice sounding so soothing to your ears.
For a second, you wonder how the simple act of someone holding your hand can stir so many different feelings inside you.
“My sweet lady, tell me what you are thinking.”
His question unintentionally brings tears to your eyes. “I was imagining my father being here, seeing you alive. He would be inundating you with questions right now; his curiosity was endless.”
Your words are like a knife twisting in his gut. Seeing tears spill from your eyes, Aemond presses his lips together tightly, not trusting himself to speak. He cautiously eases closer to you in a silent offer of consolation.
You cannot resist the urge to lean upon him, resting your head against his shoulder and sobbing. Though you thought you had cried out all of your tears in the days prior, a new flood flows down your cheeks. Whether it’s your grief, the insanity of bringing a ghost back to life, or your growing attachment to him, you do not know or care at this point. You surrender to his embrace and cling to him desperately.
He patiently waits until your sobs subside before tilting your chin up to look at him. “I am with you now, and I will always be with you,” he murmurs before gently pressing his lips to your forehead, letting them linger there for a moment before pulling back with a sigh. “I think you need to rest now.”
Having been awake most of the night, you know your tiredness is playing a part in your very emotional state. Wiping your eyes, you reluctantly ease yourself from his arms.
“You are probably right. I should try to sleep for a bit,” you agree. “Will you be alright?”
“I will be fine. I am feeling stronger already,” he assures you.
Aemond insists on seeing you to your room. Along the way, you show him the guest bedroom that will be his and repeatedly ask if he needs anything before you lie down.
“I am no longer helpless, and I can manage on my own for a few hours,” he tells you with a smile as he sees you to the door of your bedroom. “Now please rest.”
Once you are in your room, Aemond goes to his guest room. Though he feels stronger than he did, he knows he has not regained his full strength yet. He sits on the edge of the soft bed, looking around at the wood furnishings of the room. He runs his hands over the blankets, trying to remember the feeling of sleeping in a comfortable bed.
Now that he is alone, he allows himself to think of you and what he has done. ‘Hundreds of years later, and you are still the same impetuous boy,' he tells himself with a mirthless smile. ‘This feels like Luke all over again.’
Leaning forward, Aemond rests his head in his hands in frustration. It truly hurts him to see you grieving so much, and it hurts him more to know that he took something dear away from you. Something he never had, a loving father.
But your father made one fatal mistake; he threatened the one thing that truly stoked terror in him.
“I swear by the Seven, I will have your bones crated up, put on a ship, and dropped into the Narrow Sea if I have to, to protect my daughter from you."
Years spent at the bottom of the lake, fully aware but helpless, was a fate worse than death and one he would not endure again.
When he made that threat, something snapped inside, just like when Luke came to Storm’s End. Then it was the first opportunity to collect payment on a debt owed, and he impulsively seized the chance to quell the rage that had long simmered in him.
Killing your father was just as impulsive and perhaps unnecessary. And now, it is a secret you must never know, because after centuries, he has finally been given the chance to rewrite his legacy, and he intends to have you by his side as his queen.
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