#and the only father he did know was strong willed and powerful

[quibbs126]

I want to talk about/draw angst to do with the All Ancients Disappear AU, specifically with the Dark Cacao family (other characters have angst, but they’re the ones I’m fixated on), but I can’t because I don’t have designs for them yet

I’ve at least solidified stuff for Dark Choco’s kid in this AU. He has a son named Dark Syrup Cookie, who’s made of both chocolate and strawberry syrup. He’s 8-10 years old and he listens to and trusts his father (even though he shouldn’t). He does not yet know that his reason for existence is to be a vessel for the sword (but he will eventually)

[atrwriting]

mercy — fem!highborn!reader x davos blackwood

was everyone else going crazy to find out that this man is actually named davos ?? absolutely wild. i refuse to believe it is davos, but alas — i must comply.

someone said that this guy would match your freak and i haven’t been able to unsee it and therefore i compose

as always, warnings: smuuuuuuut, knife play, choking, swearing, switch reader, power bottom davos, my very own self indulgence

____

with your family and several others declaring for rhaenyra targaryen, the one true queen, it led to others seeing women in a different light. a daughter of a highborn family like you would not be trapped to embroider for the rest of your life — unless you wanted to. that was the beauty of choice and what rhaenyra had started — you should have the same opportunities of men in that age, including the opportunity and ability to choose.

and so you did: you chose to fight.

with war brewing, how could you stand by and only wield a needle and thread when you didn’t want to and had the ability to do something else? what, were you going to embroider the war? some battle with red thread? illustrating the rage and fighting of men losing their lives with and against fire and blood? absolutely not. if you could wield a sword instead, and weren’t half bad — maybe that would save someone else from fighting.

and so you did. you started training.

you weren’t half bad, honestly — given your size and age. most men began when they were boys and very small, growing into their strength and work ethic. you could not be blamed for your lack of skill — it just meant that when you could wield a sword against a worthy opponent and beat them, you would gain the respect you deserve.

and you would work for it. you had to.

in order to achieve that, you had to actually find willing opponents. despite the fact that they declared for rhaenyra, that did not mean that other soldiers wanted to face a woman in a fair fight. you tried not to take it too personally — as they would probably fear for your father’s response if you had been hurt. you tried to understand, but you wanted to improve — needed to improve.

however, there was one person that was willing to spar with you.

you rolled your eyes just thinking of the name.

davos blackwood.

there was nothing wrong with him — but he bothered you. got under your skin in a way that no other man could, nor even dream of being able to. he taunted you the first time you had ever met him, and taunted you further towards the first time you had ever sparred with him. you did not mind someone baiting you, but to be constantly reminded of your lack of skill, your womanhood, and the approaching war was a weight on one’s shoulders that a beginner could not always bear the weight of. they would not expect a young boy to withstand that pressure, and didn't understand why davos would expect you to handle it. when that insecurity was opened and showcased for onlookers to see fighting in daylight, it was even harder. you didn’t understand why he was trying so hard to, frankly, haze you — and it’s not like he seemed open to fair or friendly communication.

so you tried to avoid him.

you tried.

you really, really did try… but in the end, he was the only one willing — and you had to learn.

you sighed with reluctance — knowing what you had to do.

when he was alone in the camp you were both staying at, you walked up to him.

“...lord blackwood?” you asked, trying to refrain from using a soft voice.

he turned around to face you, a smirk already growing on his lips. one of his hands was lazily gripping the hilt of his sword, while the other grasped his hip. his shoulders were wide and strong — indicative of how skilled of a fighter he was. you clenched your teeth — hoping you wouldn’t regret this, as you could only benefit. you had to keep reminding yourself of that — a means to an end. that's all this is and would be. it's worth it. you then tried to meet his eyes as the wind swept his brown hair from his line of sight.

if he wasn’t so snarky, you might have found him attractive.

might have.

“yes, my lady?” he asked.

you could hear his smirk in his tone — like he already knew what you were going to ask, and how much you did not want to ask it.

you folded your bottom lip in between your teeth. “...would you be willing to spar with me?”

“i would,” he replied. “you have not asked me since our last. i have some time now — should we find an open space?”

you shook your head. “perhaps this evening... when people have retired?”

he raised an eyebrow, obviously displeased with your decision. “...why is that, my lady?”

“less of an audience, my lord,” you tried to say confidently.

he raised an eyebrow at you. “battles are not won in private, my lady.”

you tried to keep your tone flat, fighting the urge to turn your nose up at him. “i’m aware.”

“so why do you not join me now?”

“i would like to make mistakes once or twice in private — and then i will feel more comfortable where others can see.”

“you would do fine now, my lady,” he spoke, but then dipped his head. “but as you wish.”

you felt dirty after he agreed — you couldn't put your finger on why. the dip of his head — like he was giving into the conquest and silly dream of that of a young girl. a young, naive, innocent girl who would never be taken seriously, no matter how hard she tried — but you couldn't think like that. you couldn't afford to — especially not during the time of war. you swallowed you pride, and waited for your meeting.

he kept his promise. later that evening, when the sun was setting, you finally met him in the sword shed before you intended to meet him in the makeshift arena. you found him sharpening his sword, face being illuminated by the lamp light. you entered the shed.

"good evening, my lady," he greeted, with a hint of grit in his voice.

you narrowed your eyes at him. "good evening, lord blackwood."

"following in your fashion — should we start with something easy? something, say — one starts with at the wee age of — eleven, perhaps?"

“i never asked you to go easy on me — but i would have hoped that after i voiced my concerns as to why i would prefer not to have an audience when i spar with you, you would’ve understood.”

“and — pray tell, my lady, why would i have understood?”

you slapped your sides in defeat, beginning to get frustrated at the fact that he couldn’t read between the fucking lines. your cheeks were beginning to pinch at the feeling of flush. “because it was like you were constantly reminding me that i am new to this and that it was unlikely that i would ever get better!"

he raised his eyebrows then, eyes widening. the smirk was still playing at his lips, as he couldn't help but let an amused chuckle push past his lips — intending mockery. “my intention was to make you better, my lady.”

you shook your head in disbelief, almost scoffing. “i just — it would’ve been nice —“

“nice?” he scoffed, walking towards you then. he approached you with his hands behind his back, but his walk was led by his head, neck, and shoulders. it stuck out at you like he couldn't wrap his head around as to how you could believe or say such a thing. “my lady, there is no nice on the battle field. not only do you have to beat the swords you go up against, but also the men wielding them. i was not nice to you because there is not enough time. you do not have enough time to learn at the pace of a boy, because you are a learning to fight as a woman during the time where another woman is fighting for her crown. you need to be good — for your family, for your army, for your queen — and because i want you to be good.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, sucking in a sharp breath at his words. there stood davos, pleading with you to have confidence in your own ability and skill — despite how he always made you doubt it. you didn't know what to think, let alone believe. “i am not naive enough to believe that the battle field is nice — just forget it, i can’t —“

you went to turn away, but he stopped you. he grabbed you by the elbow, and you immediately turned to face him. within almost an instant, you had stopped his other arm. you shoved his grip down at the same time you pressed a knife to the skin of his neck with your free hand.

you bared your teeth at him, the tip of your nose pulsing into a snarl. there was a dagger to his throat, but nothing compared to the ones you shot with your eyes. your pupils dilated so the only thing in your vision was blackwood and his dark eyes, only focused on yours. both sets of eyes had seen peace and danger, fire and ice —but neither knew the feeling you had when you looked into davos blackwood's eyes and witnessed the exact moment he realized you had been the one to best him. to have his throat at the mercy of your wrist, and have him still smirk down at you — was a feeling that startled you, and excited you.

he pushed against the blade, forcing you to reluctantly allow his head to lower to yours. you could feel his hot breath on your face, shrinking your space. "is that what will make you feel more confident, my lady? — you think you can best me, with a knife to my throat?"

he walked forward, forcing you backwards. you continued taking steps backward when he did not stop. soon, your back was pressed up against a table your lower back had been stopped by. the force of davos' hips collided with yours, pressing you against the table. the plumpness of your ass was pushed into the wood as davos planted himself between your thighs. "is this how you make yourself feel safe? — because even if i am stronger, that does not negate the fact that in a moment's time you could bleed me."

"i could —" you bit — as if that statement was something monumental. as if you hadn't agreed with his own statement. as if it wasn't pathetic.

you watched as he realized that fact the same time you did.

"but will you?" he asked, in a soft, taunting voice.

"i could," you spat again.

pathetic, you spat to yourself in your head. at that same moment, davos smirked down at you.

"there is nothing more enticing than a woman who knows her strength," he spoke, tone threatening to break. "especially against a man whom they both know could end her.”

“testing me, davos?” you spat, nose turning up at him. his smirk wavered when he felt the sharpness of the blade scrape his skin, threatening to draw blood.

“oh — i find myself doing more than that, my lady,” he pressed forward once more, so your noses were almost touching. there were inches — barely inches — between your lips, words ghosting over your skin. his breaths hit your lips with such force you almost believed they were touching. you couldn't let it show on your face — couldn’t let him know he was winning, or that he won. “you want to keep that blade at my throat? be my guest — as long as you let me do this.”

with your lower back pressed against the table and the knife flat on his throat, davos locked you in by placing both of his hands on either side of your thighs. he leaned forward, and he took what he wanted. he took, and took, and took until you were putty in his hands. he held your lips hostage with his own, leaving you at his mercy. mercy, mercy, mercy. you were jailed in his embrace, hating and relishing it at the same time.

your free hand gripped his collar, pulling him into your knife and you. you didn’t even realize you were doing it — or maybe you didn’t want to admit it. maybe you didn’t want to admit that you liked the man who constantly bullied you, nor that you liked the boldness in his smirk before he kissed you.

“you bastard —“ your insult was breathless. pathetic. ridiculous. it made him smile, and it only made your pride and shame swirl in your chest more. how dare he? how could he? “you fucking — !“

“that’s right, my sweet — “ he grunted, pushing your skirts to the side. you felt the cool air hit your exposed thighs, a blush rising to your cheeks. he laughed against your lips before sliding his tongue into your mouth. you could’ve if you wanted to — you so could’ve — you could’ve, you could’ve, you fucking could’ve, but you didn’t want to — you didn’t want to push him away. the knife, still pressed against his skin, wanted to push him away. wanted to cut him. wanted to bring him pain. wanted to get him away — but you? no. your body’s reluctance fell away once you felt his hands slips between your thighs. “hate me — come on — show me how strong you are — show me how much you fucking hate me.”

his thumb was on your clit, sensitive with excitement and anger — never been touched before. his finger drew circles; a long curve on the top of your bundle of nerves, fast when it made he made his way towards the top of the circle once more. long, and drawn out was his torture. he wound you up tight, only for him and at his mercy. he shoved his middle and ring finger inside you, letting the pads of his fingers rub the length of the roof of your cunt. the beckoning motion brought you closer and closer to him, no matter how hard you tried to fight him inside.

“keep that knife at my throat, my lady,” he spat. “let’s see if you can keep a steady hand without drawing blood when i make you cum. — i’m betting you can’t.”

“fuck…” you trailed off off, getting lost in his movements. “f-fuck you.”

“that’s all the brave fighter’s got?” he spat into your ear, making your hair stand. “weak words? you claimed you were of a higher skill — am i going to be the one to prove you wrong?"

you couldn’t concentrate. you couldn’t. there was no way. it would’ve been useless to even try. your let your neck relax as his lips found the length of the side of your jaw, kissing and nibbling at the clammy skin. he found your pulse point — thumpthumpthumpthumpthump — and sucked the blood from the source, and to the surface. you couldn’t see, but you felt the blood rise to the top of the skin and settle. your blood, your veins, your fucking heart was pounding as it rested at his mercy. his. him. davos. he controlled every part of you — including where your blood moved, pooled, and clotted — and you didn’t know how to feel about it. you were swimming in his embrace, holding onto him for dear fucking life.

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” you cried.

“that’s right, my sweet,” he spoke. groaning in your ear, “that’s it. show me. show me how much you hate me. i want that knife to almost cut me when you cum. i want to see the look of hatred in your eyes when you make a mess on my fucking sword hand.”

you couldn’t stop it.

you couldn’t.

it was useless. pathetic. worthless.

your head fell against his strong, broad shoulder and you felt every part of your being lose control. every single one of your muscles tightened. your grip on the hilt on the knife tightened and the grip on his leathers tightened. everything was so fucking tight you didn’t know how the strings inside of you that were wound so tight didn’t fucking snap. it should’ve snapped. it should’ve snapped like the light behind your eyes, blinding white being the only thing you could see. you thought you could hear your own cries, his grunts — but you weren’t sure. your were lost, floating in your own release while his fingers didn’t relent against you.

“so-so sensitive,” you choked out, vision still hazy.

“you think i’m done with you?” he spoke. your strength was beginning to waver, as was your knife from his throat. you could feel the exact moment he realized it. “can’t even keep a knife to my throat at your most vulnerable? how do you expect to fair, yeah? in battle? — shall i get you a needle and thread instead, my lady?"

something inside of you snapped inside you for a second time that night — but this time it was anger. your gaze, aflame, caught his. how dare he? how fucking dare he? with a snarl, you spat, “unlace your fucking leathers, blackwood.”

fire also danced within his irises as the corners of his mouth raised once again. for the first time that evening, you had me davos' fight as an equal match.

you would not back down.

his fingers left your dripping cunt, and he began working at his strings. you struggled to catch your breath as you came down from your high, forcing yourself to regain composure. and, yet — there was davos. smirking. confidently. not fearing the knife at his throat, nor fearing the girl who held it, nor that she was now his match.

his tore his eyes away from you to spit on his hand, coating his long member. though angry, you couldn’t help but grow hungry at the sight of his red, leaking tip. there was no desperation on his face, but davos blackwood had control over his expression. his demeanor. his emotions. but his cock? red and neglected? there was no control. it plunged into your sopping wet cunt, buried in you until the hilt.

your cunt blossomed around him. you felt your walls blossom for the man on top of you. your womb, warm and welcoming, wanted to suck him in and never let him leave. you had never known pleasure like this, wanting even the most frustrating of men to give it to you.

you threw the knife on the ground.

you pressed your flat palm to his throat, curling around it. your squeezed the sides of his throat. your teeth were bared once more, fighting for dominance against the predator before you.

davos smiled, diminishing your resolve.

“there she is,” he spat, smirk wide with his teeth on display. “there’s my fighter.”

"fuck you," you replied.

"good," he responded, before sliding his length inside of you.

that was the thing with davos — showing vulnerability like succumbing to pleasure made you feel weak, whereas davos never felt weak. even in a vulnerable state such as this — this, joining bodies as one, each thrusting their hips against the other seeking to reach their own peak, while also relishing in the fact that you were helping the other reach theirs. his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, deliciously painful and bittersweet. even in his most vulnerable state, davos radiated power. there was dominance in his state of weakness and pleasure that was asserted over you, and you had no choice to bow — no choice but to give in.

“you missed me so bad, didn’t you?”

there you were — a light sheen of sweat on your skin glistening with the dim light of the lantern as you thrusted your hips to meet his. there was one firm hand of his, pressing down on your stomach. every time he could feel the thrust of his own cock through the soft skin of your stomach, you witnessed a flash of mischief in his dark irises. a groan collected in the back of davos' throat — building, building, and building until it came out in a growl. carnal. animalistic. untamed, and all yours. you couldn't help but moan at the sound, sending a gush of pleasure swirling around his cock. he glanced up at you, smile being illuminated by the lantern.

“that’s it, my sweet — whine for me.”

and you did. oh fuck, you did. it was all you could do besides let your muscles go taut at the idea of losing all control to the pleasure of the tip of his cock hitting that space behind your clit deep inside you. once more. that's all you needed. once more. one more peak. your pride would understand — you could not feel shame with the feeling of pleasure so electrifying. every crook of your body was hot and clammy — but you didn’t care. you couldn’t care, and neither could he.

“you just want to cum, don’t you?” he asked. “i know you do, yes? — answer me.”

he slapped your your sensitive clit. it sent sparks up and down your nerve endings, making you squeal and jump. you glanced up at him, and immediately connected your gaze with his dark one. his eyes tested you — your pride, your shame, and your being. however, the want and need in your hips was stronger than you — but that didn't matter. that was the strength and fight davos' wanted, and he would lose to.

“i do,” you whimpered, folding your bottom lip into your mouth. your eyes, like a doe’s, pleaded with him through your thick lashes. you thought you saw a flash of pride on his face, but you couldn’t tell. “fuck, youfuckingbastard — please, davos, just a little longer… ‘m so close.”

“ohhh — that right, my lady? yeah?” his gaze was heavy — dark, tired, but fueled by lust. his throat was worn and scratchy, and the thickness of his voice mirrored it. “showing that fight you promised me, yeah? just like i asked? so beautiful and fucking strong —”

"fuck..." you sobbed. your womb was blooming once more, sucking him in farther and farther into you. he welcomed the pull from your warm, wet, and gummy walls — for you had no strength to push him from you, and neither did he.

"shall i spill my seed into you, my sweet?" he asked, chuckling darkly. he cock continued to pound into your throbbing cunt until you could only think davos, davos, davos. your grip on his throat grew tighter — but not because of your anger, but because you could only cling onto something to hold you present. "shall we create the bravest, most dangerous fighter there has ever been?"

his words were beginning to slur together, like ears underwater. your brain was swimming, being pushed and pulled through saltwater waves that wove ropes around your lungs and hips.

"if you dare..." you whined, failing at sounding brave.

"i would dare," he immediately spat, plunging his cock in once more.

your grip on his throat tightened as he spanked your clit once more, sending you spinning. your thighs locked around him, pulling you into your core and trapping him there. it only enraged him — energized him. it was the final fire that spread throughout him to snap his hips once, twice, thrice more into you and spill himself inside you. your peak made you cling to your lover in the lamp light — holding onto him as you both fell forward into each other, clinging to each other.

you had fallen onto his shoulder, seeking rest. his cheek was pressed against the side of your face. his lips pressed a warm, wet kiss on your cheek — and then another onto the love bite he left on your skin. you felt his tongue poke through his soft lips and lick the bruised skin, sealing his mark in. with his dark gruff voice, davos stated, "that is how you best a man, my lady."

"fuck you."

----

so what do we think? love u guys xoxoox - L

[myocsfanfictions]

THE WRATH OF FIRE

MASTERLIST

Princess Ysilla Targaryen is the only daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce. The affection that she felt for her mother was strong, while her father had never been there, acting as if Ysilla was not even his. But she was. The dragon egg that had been put in her cradle hatched. An outcast of a dragon was born. A dragon with no legs. An outcast of a dragon for and an outcast of a dragon rider. Ysilla’s hair was dark but streaked with white. She was a Targaryen, and her wrath was not different from the one that burned inside the members of the House of the Dragon.

《 Previous - Next 》

CHAPTER 8

The rumors surrounding Rhaenyra’s children only got worse when her third child had been born.

Ysilla was now a girl of fifteen. She was very different from the skinny little child that had left Runestone so long ago. People would describe her as elegant, intelligent, and beautiful. She had grown to be graceful, as much as her dragon was. And as Dārysyr, her fierce was known by now. Her dragon had grown large and powerful; his muscles were well-formed, and his wings were strong. Ysilla went flying on Dragonback once a week. She would have liked to do it more, but she had her studies and her duties.

Just a couple of years before, Ysilla had the chance to speak with the Alchemists of King’s Landing, and she had been left very fascinated.

“Vysenia was said to be familiar with dark magic,” she said one day, sitting beneath the Hearth Tree as she observed Aemond practicing combat movements with a stick.

“You want to be Vysenia born again?” He asked, fighting against air.

“Do you think I’d made a fool of myself?” She asked with a little smile as she looked at the boy.

“No,” he answered, turning to her, “I think you are as willed as her. But with the grace of Rhaenys.”

Graceful. Yes. Ysilla had grown up to be very grateful. She knew how to bow, to speak, and to dance. The court was well impressed by her. And from Runestone, her aunt Jeyne was hoping for a good arranging for Ysilla. Not only because she had become very well respected by the people in King’s Landing but also because Queen Alicent seemed to have high expectations from Ysilla. She called her her ward.

“She probably wishes for you to be wed to one of her sons,” that rumor had reached her aunt Jeyne as well. And she seemed pleased by it in her letters. A Royce on the throne.

Ysilla, on the contrary, had no thirst for power. The thought of ambitions and schemes only reminded her of her father and what he had done to be always a step closer to the Iron Throne. But she was not her father.

The lack of personal ambition, though, did not make her blind to politics and schemes. It was because she knew how harmful they could be that she was always vigilant and observant of what happened in court. Fully aware that knowledge and duty were what was required to keep alliances and peace. She had grown up side by side with the Queen, raised by the same people that raised the princes. She knew that the health of the King was faltered, as did the respect some people had for the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms when her children started to grow up to become more similar to the Captain of the Guards than her own husband. Everybody knew, and yet the King did nothing. This had also happened ten years before when her father had killed her mother.

“Are you not coming to the pits?” Aegon asked that morning when they were breaking their fast.

“You heard that right,” she answered, smiling at him before taking a sip of her milk.

“You cannot ditch me like this,” he said, leaning towards her with playful eyes, “I’ve promised you today would have been fun.”

Aegon had grown up, but his search for fun and enjoyment had remained the same. “Helaena wished to dance today. You know how I love her and how I enjoy dancing.”

He cocked his head to a side, “More than riding Dārysyr?” Then his hands moved to touch a strain of her hair, “Did I say how I like your hair today?” Ysilla took his hand to push it away. Aegon had always had a fascination with her hair, and since he had started to grow and notice women, he had begun to voice his compliments on her hair and appearance more often than not.

“I love nothing more than Dārysyr,” she answered, looking at the boy. "And we already flew with him and Sunfyre last week.”

Not so long before, Aegon managed to bend Sunfyre, becoming his dragonrider. Sunfyre was known to be the most beautiful dragon alive, and he really was. He had golden scales and pink shades, and even his flames were golden.

“I wasn’t meant to go fly together,” he said, a mischief light in his eyes.

“What’s with the face?” She asked, making him laugh.

“What face?”

“The one that always brings you trouble,” she answered with a glare. He was planning something. She knew him too well to be mistaken. She didn’t have time to ask because the wooden door opened to let Aemond enter the chamber.

“Good morrow, Aemond,” she greeted him with a smile.

“Ysilla, brother,” he answered shortly. It was how Aemond was, very different from his older brother. He was composed and dutiful. Less impulsive than Aegon was. “Mother is looking for you, Ysilla.” He said, sitting down.

“That’s why you’re not coming. Because of Mother,” Aegon said, making Ysilla turn to him.

“I wasn’t supposed to,” she said, standing up. Her eyes went from one brother to the other. "I’ll see you both when you return from the pit,” then she looked at Aegon.

“Behave.” He blown her a kiss.

“Like always, my sweet.”

“Stop that,” Aemond said, focusing his attention on the plate in front of him. Ysilla ignored Aegon, making her way towards the door. She wondered why the Queen wanted to see her. Ysilla knew she would have been busy with Rhaenyra after the princess’s labor ended and the third of her children would be born. Rhaenyra had been screaming for hours, and Ysilla stopped to observe the corridor that led to her chambers on her way to the Queen. By the screams, she seemed to be suffering very much. That made her anxious. She knew that it was a woman’s duty to give children to her husband. She just hoped the gods had mercy for them and an easy way to bring life to the world.

“Princess,” Ser Cole was guarding the door, bowing his head as she walked closer.

“Good morrow, Ser,” she answered politely. “I hope your day has been good so far.”

The man smiled, “It is, Princess.” His smile would have made her blush just a few years before. But the more she grew up, the less embarrassing it became to share words with men, even handsome men such as Ser Criston.

When Ysilla entered the chamber, the Queen was standing next to the window, and a serving girl was fixing the back of her dress.

“My Queen,” she greeted, bowing. “Have you asked for me?”

“Good morrow, my dear,” Alicent Hightower smiled kindly at her, “Indeed. Helaena is a little... agitated today."

Helaena had stayed the same in those years. She was still the sweetest girl that Ysilla had ever met. Sweet and gentle. But her queer behavior sometimes agitated even herself. Ysilla had seen Helaena in those moments, and she knew that the princess didn't like to be alone when she was feeling like that.

"We'll find something else to do then," Ysilla answered. They could have taken a walk or talked about bugs. Helaena liked bugs. Ysilla would have found something to ease Helaena's mind.

The Queen smiled at her, putting a hand on her arm. "What a blessing you are." Ysilla returned the gesture, bowing her head in gratitude and respect.

At that moment, the door behind them opened to reveal Rhaenyra and Laenor. Ysilla widened her eyes to see her cousin.

"Rhaenyra," the Queen gasped, "You should be resting after your labors."

"I have no doubt that you would prefer that, Your Grace," Rhaenyra answered, trying to keep her trembling voice steady. The pain that she had experienced was well visible on her face, and it was not surprising.

Ysilla had heard Rhaenyra screaming only a few moments before. She knew what happened during labor, and the septa had explained that to her. How could her cousin possibly walk? Or even walking up the stairs?

"You must sit," the Queen said, turning to one of her serving girls, "Talya, fetch a cushion for the Princess.” The girl bowed and turned to attend Rhaenyra.

“There’s no need,” Rhaenyra said. By the Queen insisted.

Ysilla followed Alicent as they walked towards the couple. Rhaenyra had finally accepted sitting down with Laenor's help, but seeing her in pain and holding her newborn baby, Ysilla felt like moving so that she could help her cousin sit. As the girl touched her arm, the Princess turned to look at her. A small smile appeared on her lips, probably still trying to hide her pain. It was well-known how stubborn Rhaenyra was.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“There’s no need,” Ysilla answered, then exchanging a look with the Queen.

Alicent was observing the baby like she had done with Lucerys just a few years before. Ysilla knew what she was thinking: even this child had nothing of Ser Laenor in him.

As Ysilla went back to stand next to the Queen, King Viserys entered the chamber with a huge smile on his face. “What happy news this morning,” he exclaimed.

The years had not been gentle to the King. His body was weaker and more fragile. His skin had gotten paler and his hair thinner. The condition of his left hand had gotten worse. He first lost just three fingers, but it kept getting worse until the Maester decided that it was better to cut off the entire arm. Even so, Ysilla’s uncle tried to maintain a positive attitude, always smiling at everyone.

“Indeed, Your Grace,” said Ser Leanor, taking the child in his arms to present him to the King. Ysilla observed Rhaenyra’s husband’s face as he looked at the baby. He smiled happily and proudly. Could he really be so blind? He had never seemed such a man to Ysilla. It was true, though, that he was not very present as a father.

He is more present than mine, anyway. She thought as she observed the unbothered son of Corlys Velaryon pass the child to the King. But even in his expression, Ysilla could not see surprise or disappointment. She could not understand why both men acted so blindly about the behavior of the future Queen? Why did her actions have no repercussions? Everybody knew, everybody whispered. And yet the King did nothing.

He must truly love her, if he is protecting her like that. Ysilla thought, observing the happiness on Viserys’ face.

“A fine Prince,” he said, his eyes looking at every one of them. Ysilla smiled, lowering her eyes. “Sturdy. You will make a fearsome knight.”

Surely, Ysilla thought. If the rumors were true and his father was Ser Harwin Strong, he surely could have become a terrific fighter as an adult. Breakbone was the strongest man in the Seven Kingdoms.

“Does the babe have a name yet?” The Queen asked with curiosity.

Rhaenyra took a breath, “We haven’t spoken-”

“Joffrey.” Ser Leanor interrupted his wife. “He’ll be called Joffrey.”

Ysilla looked between them, hoping that her face did not give away the kind of thought she had in mind. Had they spoken of it or not? Did Rhaenyra agree with such a name?

“An unusual name for a Velaryon.” The Queen was speaking the truth. Velaryon came from Valyria as much as the Targaryens. Their names came from Old Valyria to keep the traditions. But it wasn’t only their costume: in the Seven Kingdoms, all the Noble Houses had names and family names. Ysilla’s name was a Royce name. Her mother, Lady Rhea, had done it on purpose. Ysilla’s father could be a Targaryen, but she had Royce’s blood in her veins as well.

“I do believe he has his father’s nose,” Ysilla would have frowned at the King’s words, but she had to keep her composure, so she decided to look at Rhaenyra and smile at her. The Princess did the same, but there was no truth behind that gesture. They were both aware of what was happening.

The King chuckled, still focused on Joffrey, and soon after, Laenor did the same before clearing his throat.

“If you don’t mind, Your Grace, your daughter has exerted herself heroically and should rest,” Ser Laenor said, ready to help his wife get on her feet.

“Of course,” the King answered. The Queen was soon at his side, taking Joffrey in her hands. Ysilla moved aside when she saw the King walking closer to his daughter, but she didn’t walk very far, curious about what they would have talked about.

“Well done, my girl,” Viserys said with tenderness. Such a tone forced Ysilla to lower her eyes, fully aware that her father would never have such sweetness for her. If she’ll ever see him again. She knew that he was an Essos with his lady wife and their two twin daughters. She wondered how he was fathering them. If he was cold and cruel like he had been to her so long ago. Ten years had passed, and yet she remembered the way he had looked at her as he said that he felt nothing for his firstborn daughter.

“I do hope the labor was easy,” the King said as Ysilla walked towards the Queen, who was giving the baby back to Ser Leanor.

“Do keep trying, Ser Laenor. Sooner or later, you may get one that looks like you.” She had said it so politely, but her intentions were quite clear—she was voicing the thoughts of the entire court. The man looked startled, and when he noticed Ysilla standing there, she didn’t say anything. She only smiled, with no true intention behind it.

Rhaenyra then walked towards her husband before they both left the chamber. Ysilla bowed gracefully as they disappeared behind the heavy wooden door.

“What a happy day,” the King exclaimed full of happiness.

The Queen lowered her eyes from next to him. “Indeed, my love,” she answered.

The whole situation was against everything that politics and duty required. Ysilla could understand why her uncle was protecting his daughter, but her King was making a fool of himself. And whispers could only get louder and louder, not only against Rhaenyra but against the King as well. He was not only Rhaenyra’s father; he was the Protector of the Realm, of the peace of the Realm. How would the realm answer once the King had left that world? What was ahead of them? That uncertainty was heavy in her heart. Politics could be ruthless, and it could reclaim anyone’s life.

“You wanted to dance, I’m sorry,” Helaena was saying as they walked in the corridors of the Red Keep.

“Nonsense, Helaena,” she answered honestly. The events of that morning had left little room for light emotions in her heart. “I don’t feel like dancing today.”

“Running from the back is important,” her cousin said. Ysilla turned to observe her. It didn’t matter how many years they had known each other; Helaena’s strange sentences left Ysilla confused all the time. She knew better than to ask. Helaena didn’t know how to explain the meaning of her words, and the more people asked her to, the more she got agitated. That was one of those days. One where Ysilla stood quiet, listening to all the strange things her cousin felt to say. She loved Helaena, but on those days, the hours went on slowly.

I wish I was at the Dragonpit, she thought. Ysilla wished nothing more than to be with Dārysyr, especially during days that felt so heavy in her heart.

They were back in Helaena’s chamber when the Queen arrived. Ysilla was set next to her cousin, who was very interested in counting the rings of a centipede. They have been there long. And Ysilla decided to take one of the many books that she had in her chamber to keep herself occupied until Helaena was satisfied with her counting. When the Queen entered, Ysilla was ready to stand up and bow, but the woman gestured for her to sit still and keep with her reading.

“This one has sixty rings and two pairs of legs on each, ” Helaena whispered, looking closer at the centipede, “It makes two-hundred-twenty-four.”

“Yes, it is,” the Queen said in a soft tone, even if her expression could not hide her worry. It was difficult to communicate with Helaena when she acted like that. They had to be patient.

“It has eyes,” the girl spoke, looking closely at the creature in her hand.

“Does he?” Ysilla asked, keeping reading her book.

Helaena muttered in agreement, “Though, I don’t believe it can see.” Ysilla looked at her with a confused frown.

“And why is that so, do you think?” Asked the Queen.

“It is beyond our understanding.”

Beyond mine, for sure, Ysilla thought at her cousin’s words. Those were too much of abstract concepts for her mind. She liked history better.

“I suppose you’re right,” the Queen answered. Some things just are.” As she finished speaking, though, the door opened to reveal Aemond. Ysilla put aside her book. Her eyes widened, seeing how dirty his face and clothes were.

“Aemond,” the woman gasped, walking to her son, “What have you done?”

“He did it again.” Ysilla stood up after Helaena’s words. He must have entered the Dragonpit. That place was dangerous for someone without a dragon, and Aemond was the only one of them without one. Dragons bend only to one person, and when they did, they will only listen to their rider. They could become very dangerous for anyone else. But Aemond had always been very fascinated by dragons. The pain in his eyes was always visible when they went to the Dragonpit.

Ysilla could understand him. She had been fascinated, too, before Dārysyr’s egg hatched. Being a Targaryen without a dragon hurt a lot.

“After how many times you’ve been warned,” the Queen reproved him, “Must I have you confined to your chambers?”

“They made me do it!” Aemond argued angrily. Who made him do it? Ysilla moved forward, feeling for her cousin. He truly seemed so upset. What had happened? But the Queen didn’t seem to share Ysilla’s same thoughts.

“As if you needed encouragement,” the woman said, worryingly observing her son to be sure he was not harmed. "Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding.” When she spoke like that, the Queen truly reminded Ysilla of her mother's skepticism about dragons.

“They gave me a pig!” Aemond exclaimed. Ysilla’s eyes widened.

“A what?” The Queen asked in confusion.

“They said they found a dragon for me. But it was a pig!” Aemond answered, trembling with anger.

I’ve promised you today would have been fun. Aegon had said to her that morning. He was behind it. Ysilla could not believe it. He knew how Aemond suffered since he was the only one without a dragon. Even Rhaenyra’s sons had one each, but not Aemond, a son of a King. How could he be so stupid to do that to his own brother?

“You will have a dragon one day,” Alicent said trying to calm her son, “I know it.”

Aemond deserved a dragon. It was saddening to know that his egg hadn’t hatched. He had asked Ysilla many times how she did it as they grew up, but she truly wasn't sure how or why. Dārysyr was just born one day. It had been a very normal day. But Aemond’s didn’t, and it was not fair. Why did the Gods play such games?

Aemond lowered his gaze, “They all laughed.”

And why did the Gods make Aegon to be such an idiot?

_____________________________________________________________

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[imaginesmai]

Feelings I cannot express - Eris Vanserra

Wow, look at that! Me, avoiding responsabilities and writing another Eris fic for which I have no time! What a surprise! Enjoy this LONG LONG PIECE that has consumed my time lately. Shout-out to @glitterypirateduck who is too in her Eris' era.

Plot: Five times Eris didn’t know how to express his feelings, and one time he did

Warnings: descriptions of violence and blood. Mean Eris when he doesn't know how to express his feelings. Troubled, traumatized boi.

1

His steps were wobbly, and he had already stopped three times to catch his breath. Each time, the ground seemed closer, more tempting. Eris always cared about the impression people had of him, and in his court, he polished it like nowhere.

The strong, cruel prince that matched his father’s temper. Someone who they wouldn’t mess with, someone who would reign one day when Beron was gone. Only the silent corridors were the witness of that other part of him, the real one, that was leaving bloodied prints on the walls.

Beron had raised his hand against his mother, like many other times. He had crossed her beautiful and soft face with a hard slap, just because she dared to share her opinion on a political matter. And Eris had unconsciously let his power flare. Just an ember, a spark in his middle finger.

His father had seen, and had deemed right to remind him where was his position in his court. Lashes had ripped his back into shreds, blood trailing down his arms and legs. He had finished two hours before dawn, but Eris hadn’t been able to move until the night was already started. That way, he made sure no one saw his vulnerable form.

Eris closed the doors of his room as soon as he was inside, and stumbled into his bed. Falling face first, he closed his eyes and willed his conscious to leave him. No one heard his prayers, and he was still wide awake when his door opened again.

He would have been startled, alert or even afraid, but your scent sneaked in before you entered. Eris groaned in acknowledgement, and he knew any warnings or threats were useless against you. You already knew the dangers of your actions, the consequences of being involved with him. And yet, you were always there.

“Can you take off your clothes?” you broke the sinister silence of the room with quiet steps. “I’ll run you a bath”

“Where’s my brother?”

“Asleep” you answered, brushing your soft knuckles against his locks. “Don’t worry about it”

Flynn, the younger Vanserra brother, had tight sleep schedules, so part of his worry faded away. It wouldn’t do him any good if someone found his younger brother’s betrothed in a light sleeping gown.

Eris heard you filling the bath with water, and tried not to let the guilt worry. The first time you had helped him, he had threatened to burn you alive, and gone as far as give you a nasty burn scar on your left forearm. You hadn’t left, and he hadn’t thanked you. While you two ignored each other in the court ministrations, it was your secret routine – you, a stranger promised to a monster, helping him among his dearest family and friends.

Not once in his life he had let someone so close to his torment, to his vulnerability – to his body. People assumed he had tons of lovers, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of someone touching him. With you, he had discovered in the last years, it was different.

Your hand on his shoulder startled him back to reality, and he finally looked at you. There were dark bags under your eyes, a determinated look fixed on him.

“It’s ready” you tilted your head slightly. “Can you get up on your own?”

“Of course. Get away” he scoffed, but didn’t argue when you stabilized him by his elbow when he rose. “I don’t need your help. You’re more a liability than a support”

“I know you can do it, Eris” you didn’t even blink at his mean words, nor reacted when he tried to push you away. “Maybe we should take your tunic off before – “

“Get off me!”

Eris didn’t measure his strength when he pushed you off, just desperate to shake the feeling of kind hands that he didn’t deserve. That would never be his.

You stumbled back and got your feet tangled between the carpet, which caused you to fall on your butt. He physically flinched when your hands broke your fall, when he saw you suck a breath in pain. But he wouldn’t apologize, he never did. If being the worst person alive meant you would live, if hurting you meant no one would do it, then he could carry the guilt and self-hate just fine.

From the ground, he felt your eyes on him as he striped his clothes. They fell to the ground, his tunic nothing but ripped shreds of cloth. His vest wasn’t much better, or his shirt. Only his pants had been saved from the bloodbath. Eris made a point by not looking at you while he undressed, leaving his briefs on.

He didn’t need to look into a mirror to know that the way your body tensed from the corner of his eye wasn’t an exaggeration. Every fiber of his body screamed at him when he walked towards the bathroom, when he heard you get up in a rush and follow him.

The fact that you didn’t demand an apology or got angry at him rubbed all the wrong spots.

“Let me warm the water”

“I can do it myself, little fox”

Still, your hand sneaked and you dipped it into the water, and within seconds steam started to fill the bathroom. Eris stared at that particular spot between your shoulder and neck, where he wished he could thank you with a soft kiss. Wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into the bath with him. Be the person you would lay with that night.

“Do you want me to help you in?”

“What I want you to do is to leave” he answered as the temperature of the room rose. “I want you to lay with your future husband and forget about me”

“I can’t do that, Eris” you casted him a glance. “I can help you in though”

His anger rose back up and he didn’t say anything when you straightened back up. Your fire magic was only a spark of his own, only useful for warming water or lighting a chimney. That you had to use yours because he was too spent was a disgrace upon himself.

Eris made a point to leave his back to you inside the tub, letting the warm water wash the blood away. He pushed his head between his arms and ignored your presence. Ignored your warm hands as they brushed the wounds so they wouldn’t get infected. Ignored your quiet movements as you left healing and numbing creams on the counter. Tried to ignore you when you massaged his shoulders and scalp, cleaning his hair like his mother used to do.

Eventually, you decided to leave him alone in his rooms. After helping him get up from the bathtub and into the bed. Tucking him in like a stubborn child, turning off the candles. Only when your hand brushed his hair one last time, he noticed the new addition to your beautiful wrist.

He gripped it before you could hide it, and for the first time in the whole night, you flinched. Not because his touch was rough, since he held it like expensive glass. Not because you were afraid, because with him, you never were.

“This is new” he whispered in the dark room, staring at the bruises along your delicate skin. “What happened?”

“He just got a little handsy. Flynn…” you doubted before you sighed, sitting on his bed. “Your father has been pushing him more and more about the weeding. He left this morning with him to hunt in the forest, so I can only guess they talked about it. So he got drunk. And I was late for dinner, because he hadn’t informed me it would be early tonight”

“Anywhere else?” he asked, and eyed you with enough intensity to warn you against lying.

“I’m fine”

You had been raised for that, Eris guessed, and that was normal for you. Being sold to the best buyer for your hand, endure a shitty betrothed until you were to marry and he could ignore you properly. Eris didn’t dare to think about how things would be if your position allowed him to marry you. If his father saw you worthy of his first-born.

But you were stuck with Flynn Vanserra, a man uncapable of love and caring. A man who did worse things than a bruised wrist.

“Be careful” he allowed himself to say, just because it was dark, and you couldn’t see the real concern and fear of someone finding out about your behavior in his room. “Don’t let anyone see you leave my rooms. And don’t come back. I don’t need you”

“Good night, Eris” you rose from bed, and Eris missed the warmth of your wrist against his fingers. “Don’t forget the creams”

With silent steps, you left his room, and Eris spent the night awake wondering of you could see right past his lies, past his fake cruelty and indifference towards you. If you could see how much he cared about his brother’s betrothed.

2

It wasn’t too often that the palace opened its door for lesser fae. On special occasions, his father allowed them to attend to the main hall and see what they were missing because of their condition. Beron took out the elegant clothes, the expensive wine and bright plates. And then, he didn’t let them use any of that and had them watch from the corner the superiority of his family.

Eris didn’t particularly care about those events, but he had been forced to attend to that one – since it was his own birthday. He didn’t celebrate his birthday, he didn’t get presents. Not when years of monotony rolled by and nothing changed. His mother had been the only one wishing him happy birthday that morning, kissing the side of his head quickly and reminding him to be nice.

To stand by and endure his father’s show of power at his expense. All his brothers were there too, and not too far from Flynn, you too.

You were wearing an orange dress that emulated autumns leaves. Each time you moved, lights reflected yellow and brown sparks that had the lesser fae turning their heads around. Eris too couldn’t keep his eyes away from your form for too long, with the risk of being caught.

Flynn seemed to be least affected by your looks, or your presence. While you were required to stay by his side and be faithful, he dragged you through countless humiliation. Talking and flirting with other women when you were standing a few feet away, ignoring your attempts to start conversations, leaving you while you greeted a friend.

Eri’s nails were imprinted on his palms from how hard he closed his fists each time it happened. He had almost set fire to a curtain when he had been close enough to watch your crestfallen expression.

To avoid anyone noticing him staring at you like a hawk or turning his brother into ashes, he busied himself with pointless talks and stupid politics. He endured it for three long hours, and then he granted himself a rest excusing himself for the bathroom.

He knew you had been following him since he left the ballroom, but didn’t acknowledge you until you were far from the crowd. Eris walked through the hallways and across the backyard, and stopped only when he reached the stables. Then, he turned around and his heart skipped a beat at your sight.

Your beautiful hair had been let down, and you were wearing a crown of golden leaves. Everything in your attire claimed you were their possession, but you weren’t his to look at, to enjoy. So he raised a brow and waited for you to talk.

“You’re hard to catch” you started. “Someone might think you’re running away from me”

“Maybe I’m running away from your annoying presence”

You scoffed and he hated and loved that you didn’t seem affected by his words. There was no truth behind it, just the urge of hearing your voice in your reply.

“I want to wish you happy birthday” you confessed, and even your voice was sweeter that night. “Haven’t seen you in all day”

“I’ve been busy” he lied.

Shamefully, he had waited for your visit for hours. Last year you had been the first one to wish him happy birthday, and he had remembered for the whole year the feeling of your lips against his cheek. It had been a friendly kiss, although it had been the only time he had seen you blush. And during the hard days, he held onto that memory like a lifesaver.

You hummed and tucked your hands in front of you. Eris tried not to notice the silver ring that claimed you as his brother’s possession, the distinction from other women. You never wore it, but you had to in events like that one.

In the silence that followed his lie, Eris’ whole body relaxed. His shoulders dropped, his fist untightened and his jaw unclenched. His nostrils flared slightly as he took in your scent, and finally, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

“Happy birthday, Eris” you finally said, and smiled brightly at him. “Do you want to open your present?”

“Present?” he blinked surprised, the question catching him off guard. “You got me a present?”

“Birthdays are supposed to be filled with presents. Extravagant parties are good too, but I think everyone should get a present” you explained. “I tried to keep yours in an envelope, but someone found it before you. And I couldn’t help it. Do you want to see it?”

Eris nodded dumbly. You could offer him a crumb of your lunch and he would gladly treasure it for the rest of his life. Just like he was doing with all your moments together, before you were cruelly snagged into his brother’s arms eventually.

He followed you through the stables, wondering what you could give him. He didn’t remember the last time someone got him a present, a pleasant one. Anything you could give him would be perfect, so he wasn’t worried about liking it or not. He was worried about cracking down and smudging that beautiful lipstick with his own lips.

Like second nature, you walked him towards the pit where he kept his hounds locked. They slept together and were Eris pride and joy, the first and only gift he got from his father. As you unlocked the door, Eris stuffed his hands in his pocket awkwardly. Then, he looked inside.

And broke into a loud, deep chuckle that rattled his bones.

Eris laughed and laughed until he took his hands out of his pockets and had to press them into his stomach, bending over. When he opened his eyes and tried to regain his posture, he lost it over and over again.

“I take it you like it” you chuckled with him.

He missed the way your eyes shone at his laugh, the way you bounced off your feet at his happiness. It had been the only real smile on your lips that night, and it rivaled any of the elegant lamps in the ballroom.

His hounds, the terrifying big dogs that haunted prisoners when they got out of his dungeons and tracked down traitors, had each one fox knitted hats. Who had ripped fae apart with their sharp teeth and devoured limbs like butter. They all stared at you with oblivious calm and a fox hat.

“They look – they look so ridiculous” Eris managed to say between laughs, and pointed at Maximus, who had its head titled and one of the ears had bent down. “And so happy! How did you put them on? This is the best present I could ask for”

“Oh, they didn’t put much of a fight when I sneaked some treats” you shrugged, and Eris broke into another laugh. “Besides, they like me too much not to let me do it”

“You’re a devious creature, little fox” he scoffed, and finally looked at you. “You are – “

Whatever he was about to say died when he caught the glimpse of the moon light hitting your ring. The ring that reminded him that you may have given him a birthday present, but everything else belonged to Flynn. He caught the words he was about to say and stuffed them down his chest. He forced himself to look away from your expectant expression, and swallow the guilt.

You would never be happy with him, but neither would you be with Flynn. Your fate in that court was sealed, yet you would keep your life with the youngest Vanserra.

“Thank you for the present, Y/N” he managed to say, not daring to look back at his hounds.

“You’re welcome, Eris” you copied his formal, clipped tone in a mocking way, noticing the change of the atmosphere but not caring about it. “Maybe next time I could knit you one for yourself”

“I’m afraid I look nothing like a fox. More like a snake perhaps”

“And I’m afraid you’re too hard on yourself, but we aren’t considering our deliriums”

Eris opened his mouth to argue, but he felt them coming before you did. A couple, probably drunk and lesser fae, had snuck into the gardens. And they probably wouldn’t recognize you, wouldn’t report to his father about your reunion. But Eris couldn’t risk your safety, not when you were the only thing that made him be glad of being alive for another year.

He caught your arm in a tight grip and your eyes widened before listening to their steps. You didn’t have to look to know the couple was staring. In your eyes, Eris could see his own fear of having those short and meaningless meetings cut short because of a snitch. He hated that you weren’t afraid of his tight grip or the fire in his eyes, but because of the retaliations if you were discovered.

One of his hounds poked a lazy head to see what the silence was about, but saw no threat and turned away. And to ensure it wouldn’t turn into a threat, Eris put on his heir-mask, the hatred and cruel prince everyone expected him to be, and snarled with fire under his tongue the venom he knew you didn’t believe.

“And if I ever see you snooping again, I’ll have your head on a pike in your weeding chambers. Tell my dear brother to shorten the leash of his belongings” he pressed on. He caught on the couple’s sniff of fear and respect, but also your own hurt. Hurt at the words he was blading for your protection, he told himself, that were necessary. “Leave before I change my mind”

With a final hard push, he threw you a few feet away from him. You looked down and scrambled away from him, and the couple left too. Eris was left alone with his foxed-hounds, and the horrid realization that hurting you was the only way of keeping you safe.

3

Eris paced the length of your room for what felt like forever. He had already noticed every detail you kept in your room that made it so you, had fought with the inadequate feeling of invading your personal space. He had had time enough to consider if he was going insane and paranoid, but it was late and you weren’t there.

You always retreated to your rooms early in the night. Sometimes, he knew because he accompanied you when his brother was too drunk to remember your presence. Other times, he knew because you sneaked into his dorms right before night set. You were supposed to be there with him, teasing him for not being able to look away from the lingerie that lay forgotten in your armchair.

But you weren’t, and Eris was pacing.

That morning, as you all had lunch as a family, his mother had asked an inadequate but innocent answer. It was only logical that after almost five years of courting you started talking about the actual weeding, but you weren’t. Because his brother was too much of a dick to entertain it until he had enjoyed his youth to the fullest, and because you sneaked glances at him when no one was looking.

You had given her a simple answer – love matters took time, and better be safe than sorry. While everyone agreed quietly, Eris had noticed the way Flynn’s face darkened. As if the idea of you answering a question directed to both of you was inadequate.

Eris had left the dining room with an uneasy feeling, and had kept it in his stomach all day. When you hadn’t appeared during dinner time nor had his brother, he had decided to search for you.

You weren’t in the stables, where you spent most of your time between horses and his hounds. You weren’t in the kitchen, where you snuck off when Flynn got too much to handle. And you weren’t anywhere he looked, so he had decided to let the worry get the best out of him and wait for you in your rooms.

As if the thought of you had summoned you, the doors opened and Eris turned around in a frenzy.

“Thank the cauldron” he scoffed, already replacing the worry with anger. “Where the fuck have you been all day? Do I really have to wait here if I want to…”

“I’m sorry” you apologized, your voice void of any fire or charm.

He tried to make himself argue with you further, to explain his presence in your room with a stupid excuse and not let you know he had been worried. There was no blood or visible wounds on you, not new bruises or burns he can explain his sudden lack of words with.

But he could see something there, that made his blood boil and his heart beat furiously against his chest. You walked past him in silence and removed your heels next to your wardrobe. Without saying anything or acknowledging his presence, you peeled the eiderdown off and climbed inside the bed.

Only then he watched your shoulders tight as you tried to keep the cries to yourself. Eris walked on autopilot to the edge of your bed, and watched in silent horror as tears fell down your face. You were squeezing your eyes shut, probably wanting to be left alone, but he found himself sitting on the edge of the bed. Just like you had done so many times.

It was so different from what he knew, what you did with him, that he didn’t know what to do. Hesitantly, he caressed your shoulder and you whined, your body turning around so you could face him.

“What happened?” he asked, his hand trembling with the effort of staying on your shoulder and not brushing the tears away.

“He locked me in a basement, because he said he was tired of seeing me everywhere and hearing me all the time” you admitted, curling your body around his. “There was no light. And I was fine, but he didn’t come back and I called. And no one answered and – “

Your explanation died with the first sob, and many followed. Eris knew what basement you were talking about. His father had locked him and his brothers many times in the past. Big enough to allow a standing person, but not to let them sit. Tight enough so a part of your body was always touching the wall, and dark enough to rob your breath.

Eris willed the words stuck on his throat to leave him. He wanted to lay down beside you and comfort you like he should. He wanted to break every last of his brother’s bones, and then some more.

“I was so scared” you admitted quietly, finally opening your eyes to look at him. “I thought – I thought I’d been forgotten”

“How did you get out?”

“Beron heard me”

He didn’t need to ask for further details, just tried to keep eye contact as your beautiful eyes were constantly drowning in tears and sorrow. His father was as cruel as Flynn, but until you were officially married, he still had to ensure your safety for your family’s sake.

You cried against his side and eventually your body gravitated to his lap. His free hand carefully brushed yours, and you held it so tight and hard that Eris choked his own cry. How many times he had felt alone in his own home? Forgotten in that same basement while Beron went hunting, or partying?

The thought of you locked in those four walls turned his stomach up. You, with your easy smile and your kind words. Full of kindness and love that no one in that court deserved, certainly not him.

Still, Eris held his ground sitting on your bed. He lighted some candles and sealed the room with a glamour against sound and strangers. The rational part of his brain told him to leave before someone came looking for him, the irrational part to do worse things. But he stayed on your bed, stroking his thumb across the back of your hand and brushing his fingers against the nape of your neck.

As you cried, Eris begged himself to do something with the words that resonated in his heart.

“You’re not forgotten, I could never forget you. I won’t”

“He could try and hide you in the last corner of the universe and I would still crawl my way to you, my little fox”

His mouth was kept shut and his fingers continued his ministration, until your breath slowed and your sobs disappeared. Then, when you were about to fall asleep with his hand in yours, you opened your eyes one last time and gave him a small smile. Maybe he hadn’t said anything, but he was starting to suspect you could read his mind and heart.

“I’m glad you came for me” you confessed quietly. “Thank you”

He should have said that he didn’t accept your gratefulness, that he wasn’t worthy of them. Instead, he smiled back and stared at you while you fell asleep. With his heart roaring just a big wilder.

4

His court was under attack.

Eris had come to that realization a month ago, when a missive from Hybern had reached their borders with a threat of dead and destruction. In that moment, he had thought it had been a minor attack. A political attack, a threat with little importance in a world where everybody hated his court.

But then, his father had dismissed the king demands and patrols started to go missing. Parts of those patrols came back, traumatized soldiers that died in a few days but that had enough time to scream horrors. More soldiers were sent into the forest, and more soldiers died.

For a month, Hybern had debilitated them in their own home until most of the army was unavailable. And now, his home was under attack.

The top part of the palace was on fire, people ran desperately through the corridors and soldiers from both sides fought in the backyard. Eris was sure Beron would be able to win that battle, maybe the war. Yet what worried him was that Beron didn’t particularly care about causalities, and there were many that had Eris’ heart in a knot.

He had managed to take his mother to safety, to a hidden room where women and children waited. He expected to see you there too, but instead, had found a hiding Flynn that didn’t answer his questions.

Eris had left his brother in the middle of a hallway with a shutten eye and two broken legs that wouldn’t let him get away from the soldiers. He hoped he would get killed so Eris wouldn’t be the one to carry the task.

As he ran through the castle against the waves of running people, the fire on his veins roared louder. What would he do, if he came upon the worst scenario? Would he crash his home down? It had been eight months since his birthday, and he had come to the realization he feared the most. That those times he seemed to spot you among a crowd, when his soul sang for you, where for a reason.

He hadn’t found the courage to tell you yet about the golden string he tugged at sometimes, hoping you would turn around and confirm his suspicions.

If he lost his mate today because of his brother’s cowardice, because of a war his father had started out of greed, Eris wasn’t sure the world would be a safe place for anyone anymore.

Asking the running members of his court would be useless, as it would be worrying about them seeing his panic-stricken expression. Eris focused on running and following his instinct, until it led him to the stables. The place where you had shared so many memories that was now a bloodbath.

Soldiers were lying on the ground, dead and unconscious, some of them begging for his help as he stepped over their bodies. The heart of the battle was close enough he could hear and smell death looming, but all of that died down when he finally saw you.

“Eris!” you cried out his name, and what was left of his heart clenched at the broken sound. “Eris I –“

Your cries were muffled by a rough hand over your mouth, of a soldier that hadn’t seen him yet. You were being dragged towards a carriage, your limbs flying around as you tried to get free from the enemies’ grip. Eris would have time to thank fate for allowing him to reach you on time, before you were taken away from him permanently.

Fire licked the carriage’s front, not letting their occupancies leave untouched. It consumed the vehicle in a matter of seconds, burning so powerful and tight that Eris felt light headed for a second. His power felt like a bottomless pit where he could dive without consequences, so he did just that.

Unleashing his short swords, he used both hands to clean his path towards you. The soldiers realized shortly after that their scape root was compromised, but too late that who had compromised it was the crown’s heir.

They didn’t stand a chance against his rage, his power. They fell to the ground like flies while all Eris saw was red. Red seeping through your wounds into the ground, staining your dress. Red pooling the earth beneath his feet as every last soldier fell to their death. Red of his power, that consumed every threat against his mate.

Once he was done, he crashed to his knees in front of you, and the fire died all together when your arms locked around his neck. He didn’t contemplate what it would look like when he pushed you farther into his embrace, listening to your heartbeat like a lullaby.

“You shouldn’t be outside” Eris whispered against your hair, the remains of his anger seeping through them. “If you were smart, you would have stayed inside. Dumb woman. What were you thinking?”

“I wanted to find you”

Your admission didn’t catch him off guard. You sounded so sincere, so relieved, that he only got angrier. Why was fate so cruel to bond him with such a kind soul? Of course, of every reason you could have gone outside, you would have chosen him.

“I didn’t know if you were okay” you continued, lifting your face from his chest to look at him. “What if you had been hurt?”

“And what would you do, hm?” Eris almost cut you off, suddenly repulsed by your touch.

That he had let you get so close to put yourself in danger was a mistake. It had been a mistake the first time he looked at you long enough to discover how bright your smile was. A mistake each time he had allowed you in his room to tend his wounds, every conversation you two had in secret.

There was no answer to his questions, and you knew it. Eris got up and didn’t offer you a hand, instead turning his face away from you. Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to ignore the endless thoughts about what could have happen. The things he should have done better, because none of that mattered now.

Eris tried to ignore you when you finally got up and grabbed his hand. Your hand caressed his fingers, his hands, his arms. You caressed his skin as if he hadn’t just slaughtered ten strong, healthy soldiers with families.

“I somehow do irrational things when it comes to you” you spoke quietly, wrapping your hands around his elbow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get in trouble. But the thought of you being hurt… I’m sorry”

“Let’s get you to safety” he grumbled, not acknowledging your apology.

He imagined what it would feel like to have you hanging from his arm in different circumstances, maybe in another world. Briefly, he indulged himself and slowed his steps so he could soak into it. There were bodies and blood, sounds of battle and death cries, but none of them seemed to matter as you walked down the hallways to the hidden room.

The battle was already dying down, but it wouldn’t be safe until nighttime. Eris would make sure every last enemy was death before letting you set a foot outside the safe room. He vowed himself to distance himself enough to never repeat that moment, and to protect you with whatever it took him. Indifference, cruelty. Whatever put you to safety.

What he couldn’t control was a last moment of vulnerability. He stopped right before the discrete doors where his mother and the rest of women and children waited. Turning to face you, his heart got the best of him and raised his arm without his consent.

“Be safe” you begged him. “Please. I don’t want to lose you”

“I will, little fox”

Eris tucked a strand of your hair, sticky with blood behind your ear. He watched like a hawk the cherry blush that painted your cheeks, the contained smile that you hid horribly. Instead of retreating, he let curious fingers explore the curve of your cheekbone. Your jawline, your chin. The curve of your nose and your lips.

His traitor fingers stopped at your bottom lip, tugging it down. It should have bothered him that those lips were meant for his brother, that they had already tasted him when his brother had gotten too handsy. But it didn’t, because they looked so kissable that he thought he had imagined it when you leaned forward.

When your eyes fluttered closed and his body gravitated too, he thought he imagined. The distance became shorter and everything became white noise. Eris had dreamed so long about it that he thought he was dreaming.

But not even his dreams were so livid, so real. He blinked one last time before crashing into your lips with a straining force. You tasted like blood from your open lip, and like clouds and sky and perfection. There were teeth and tongue and he couldn’t control himself more than the kiss.

Shockingly, he was the one pushed against the opposite door, your much smaller body trapping him as you grabbed him by the shoulders. He stole every breath and whine that left your mouth with kissing. For those few seconds, he let himself explore each inch of your mouth like it was the last minute of his life.

It might had been, if someone saw you with him and told Beron. His father thought had him pushing you away, so hard you stumbled down.

“Get inside” Eris demanded you, gripping your elbow harshly. You blinked with those swollen lips and rosy cheeks, and he clenched his jaw.

“Eris…”

“Don’t come out, not until I come back. Be fucking smart for once in your life” he opened the door and dozens of women stared at you two.

Something in his chest stilled when your eyes widened and that bond became alive. When he was certain that you felt the same tug he had been feeling for a long time, that he had lost sleep over. It dawned to him that nothing would be the same after that day, whether the attack finished or not. Whether his father found out or those women kept silent.

So, for the first time in his life, Eris let himself accept those hidden feelings and kissed you one last time. Slow, deep, in front of his mother who covered her mouth with a surprised gasp. He dragged his lips between yours, only for a second.

When he tore away, Eris was sure he would die happy if that face was the last thing he saw.

“Don’t leave the room until I come back, my little fox. Only me”

Eris didn’t let you answer. He turned around and closed the doors behind him, running down the hallways. Looking for the enemy, for his brother whose betrothed had just kissed, for his father who could kill you both. And away from where his heart was safe with you.

5

Not even a week of mourning was stablished for the deaths at the Hybern attack. Not even a week for the thousands of soldiers who had died defending his home.

Eris had made sure that every family got their loved ones’ bodies back, and that there was enough wood to light up fires for them. He mourned more for them than for his own family, who had suffered an immense hit.

Flynn Vanserra had been found ravished in a forgotten hallway, his body mangled beyond recognition. People whispered that he had found an end according to his life – cruel, mean, without mercy. Eris stared at his brother’s corpse and curled his lip, because before his death, not a scar marked his body. While he had usen yours like a blank canvas.

Beron Vanserra had died too, and that had rattled Eris’ world.

His father had been the main objective, and after he had fallen from the upper tower, the enemy had retreated. Beron was dead before he hit the ground, courtesy of a dozen poisoned arrows on his chest. Eris had watched his body burn in silence contemplation, thinking about how many times his father had raised his fire against him.

Now, it was Eris who light up his father’s tomb fire.

Days brushed quickly but there was one thing that had him grounded – you. Eris Vanserra was officially a High Lord, so no one argued when you appeared by his arm on Beron’s funeral. When you moved your things to the room besides him.

His people whispered about the caring brother who had taken upon the charge of his betrothed so she wouldn’t be discarded. And about the cruel king who had killed his own brother to wed a nameless girl. Eris didn’t acknowledge any of those comments.

He just kept you close as loyalties were stablished, letting everyone know that you were off limits. For touching, for hurting, for insulting. One noble was brave enough to question your place in the palace with Flynn death, and one noble lost his tongue the next morning.

As everything settled down, Eris found himself taking walks with you through the forest, something his brother had never bothered to do. You hung from his arm gracefully, new and expensive dresses on your wardrobe, and a radiant smile on your face.

“Will you teach me how to ride?” you asked him one sunny afternoon. “So I can ride hunting with you”

“I will get you your own horse if that’s what my mate wants” he let the title sweeten his mouth, warm his heart. “I will get you whatever your heart desire, my little fox”

“Maybe I’ll turn into a spoiled princess then. And you will find your ruin at my expensive demands” you chuckled, shifting closer to him.

You could ask him for a court and he would fight to death with anyone to grant you your own court. You could ask him for his court and he would get on his knees and offer it to you without another word. Those words were meaningless, because you rarely asked him for anything. Even when you had changed rooms, you had been happy with just a bed and a blanket.

“I’m happy with being here, close to you. I don’t need anything else”

The more time he spent with you, the more he marveled at your selflessness. You had been helping those with injuries from the fight, talking with the families who were grieving. By nighttime, you returned to your chambers where Eris was waiting for you, having abandoned his own for yours. You two laid in bed looking at each other until you fell asleep.

Then, Eris spent hours staring at you, letting his heart soak into the comfort.

“You are quiet today” you commented, breaking him from his thoughts. “Court problems?”

Eris always had court problems. The change was coming slowly but surely, and his father’s loyal friends weren’t happy with that. But it wasn’t their enmity that had him deep in thought. The last rays of sun warmed your face as he looked at you with a small smile.

Talking about his feelings was his weakness. He had been mean, cruel and downright villainous to you for years because he couldn’t open his heart to you. He couldn’t endure the thought of you hurting because of his stupid feelings.

But he wanted things to change. He wanted you to be happy and safe, and if he had to share his thoughts and swallow his insecurities, he would.

“I was wondering” he admitted eventually, a little unsure. “We are mate. But… do you think, we would have found each other? If we weren’t?”

You looked surprised at his questions. You hadn’t talked about the bond, just accepted it. When Eris had found you after the battle, you had hugged him tight and kissed him once more. You hadn’t talked about it, and yet, you both were comfortable with it.

After the initial surprise, you gifted him a soft smile, and your eyes crinkled against the sun.

“I would have found you either way, Eris. You had me since I set a foot in this court” you answered him. “I used to worry that there was something wrong with me, because I couldn’t feel anything for Flynn. Not love, not hate. Nothing. Whatever he did was fine because it was the price I paid to stay close to you. And it was worthy”

“Don’t say that, Y/N”

“I can’t, that’s what I feel. And I’m not afraid to tell you that I’ve loved you for a long time, my darling. Long before I knew we were mates and through all we’ve been through. I’m sure I would have loved you even if we weren’t mates”

Eris wondered if he would ever be able to speak so freely about his thoughts. He couldn’t still voice out what he felt for you. How he would turn the world around if you asked him to, how your love was enough to keep him alive forever. For now, though, Eris smiled and leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your nose, earning a soft giggle.

He would tell you all of that someday, show you his feelings when his words were stuck. Eris Vanserra owned you that much.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Do it for Him | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You and your husband can't conceive but you will do everything in your power to make it possible to pacify his father's wishes. Little did you know your father in law is a little too willing to help. Pairing: fem!reader x Father in Law Jungkook Word Count: 2.8k Warnings: Yändere, and manipulation into cheating and explicit language. a/n: This is my first time writing something like this so I'm not really sure how I did. There's gonna be a part two for sure so this is more like the introduction part of the Yandere aspect and setting up the plot. And a special thanks to @coralmusicblaze for the request <3

"Wait please, let's talk about this" I say running down the stairs after my husband. "You heard the doctor yourself, we can't have children" he rushes to say but decides to stop in his tracks, his back to me still. "They didn't say we can't, they just said it would be more difficult. There are still options available to us" I say hoping to reassure him. 

"First I'm a shit son for wanting to marry someone I love instead of marrying for money" he says bitterly looking towards me. "A now I'm an even worse son because I can't 'continue the family line' so his corporate empire can continue or whatever the fuck he talks about" he says as he continues to beat himself up about something that isn't even his fault. 

"We'll work through this. We can keep trying and we will continue going to the doctor to see if they can help as well okay?" I say rubbing his arm. "It'll all be okay as long as we stick together" I say holding the side of his face softly encouraging him to look at me. "Okay?" I question, waiting for his agreement. 

He looks in my eyes, seeing my dedication to him and he nods his head, whispering a quick okay before placing a soft kiss on my lips. "Everything will work out, I promise" I say wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him close to me and he returns it right away, holding me in a firm embrace until the car pulls around, the driver opening the door for us.

"Where are we going?" I ask, seeing that we've missed the turn to go home. "We have to go tell my parents" he says with a clenched jaw. "What? Now? We only just found out, shouldn't we at least take some time to think about this?" I ask concerned with what might happen if we tell them while he's still in a vulnerable state of mind. "I would rather just get it over with so they won't pester us about it anymore. Let's just tell them that we're having trouble conceiving and we're going to go to a doctor to see if they can help. That way the blame can't be put on either of us" he reasons and I nod my head in agreement. 

"Hey" he says grabbing my hand making me look up at him. "You know I love you right?" he says and runs his thumb along my knuckles. I nod my head and give him a tight lipped smile, putting up a strong front for him. Truth is, this is just as upsetting for him as it is for me, if not more. No one wants to admit that they need help with something that is supposed to happen naturally, between a man and woman that love each other. A child made with love...

"So basically your dick doesn't work" Mr. Jeon says, not pulling any punches. "Honey please" Mrs. Jeon says, trying to reign him back in which helps a bit. "My dick works just fine" my husband says ultimately taking on a defensive stance against his father. "First you beg me to give you my blessing to marry her, and now after all of that you're not able to do the one thing that I am asking you to do for our family. We need an heir to inherit the company and I want to see that happen now" his father says standing up and walking out of his office that we all had gathered in. "Let me talk to him" my mother in law says with a pained expression, "No, it's fine I'll go" I say standing up and giving her a kiss on the cheek telling her not to worry.    

 "I'm not interested in a lecture about the children" my father in law says with his back turned to me, clearly thinking it was his wife who has come to reason with him. "I'm not interested in doing that either" I say walking closer to him where he is standing on his balcony, over looking the city. He turns to face me and takes in my form for a little longer than I had hoped he would, his eyes dragging up my figure, lingering on my chest before turning back around. "I'm sorry you had to see that" he says not bothering to spare me a second glance.

I decide to walk up to the railing next to him and take in the view as well, breathing in the fresh air and trying to regain some sense of peace before I try speaking again. "It's his fault isn't it?" he questions, still looking out at the scene in front of him. "It isn't anyone's fault" I say mirroring his posture. "It has to be someone's fault" he says, upset that no one wants to tell him the truth. "It's funny, you both put up such a fight to be together and it turns out you aren't as compatible as you thought you were" he laughs bitterly,  pushing himself off the railing and turning to walk back inside. 

"That's not fair, it's not our fault" I call after him. "Life's not fair sweetheart. Get used to it" he says and closes the door behind him. I let out a sigh and turn back toward the city and look up at the sky, trying to clear my thoughts and hold back the tears that I can feel are moments away from falling. "Hey" my husband says, placing his hand on the small of my back making me jump not realizing that he had already come to find me. 

"How did it go?" he questions softly and when I go to open my mouth in response only a soft whimper comes out, now finally feeling my heart start to crack while tears stream down my face. "Come here" he says wrapping his arms around me, pulling me in as close as he can while I start sobbing into his chest, not being able to hold it in anymore. "It's okay baby, it's okay" he says softly coaxing the tears out of me. "We'll figure it out just like you said" he whispers and I nod showing him that I haven't lost hope. I guess at the end of the day, I'm not as strong as I thought I was. 

"How long are you going to be gone?" I question him as he finishes packing up a suitcase for his business trip. "Only a few weeks" he says as if it's nothing. "Weeks? What about the doctor? What about me? What about-" I ramble but am cut off by his lips on mine. "It's already all taken care of" he whispers against my lips and rubs his nose against mine before pulling back to continuing packing. 

"You talked to the doctor already?" I question and he nods his head. "Yep he says things are looking good and he's hopeful that we'll be able to conceive soon. We could even conceive now if you want to try" he says turning back around, drinking me in before pulling my body flush against his and giving a few light kisses on my neck already making me breathless from his touch on my sensitive skin. "How much longer until you're done?" I say trying to keep my mind straight. "Give me five minutes" he says and comes back up to give me a urgent kiss before running back and getting a few more things. 

"Text me when you land" I say walking up to the car while the driver places his bags in the trunk. "Of course" he says giving me one more kiss full of longing, making me not want to let him go. He pulls back a few moments later and nudges his nose against mine again before pulling away. "I love you" he says softly and rubs his thumb over the dark purple hickey he gave me on my neck, one to 'remember him by' as he had said proudly while I tried to scold him. 

"Don't take a test until I come back okay?" he says turning towards me one more time before getting in. "I won't" I laugh and shake my head at him while he gets in the car. "Bye" he says rolling down the window to give me one last goodbye before the driver pulls out of the driveway. I wave and watch as the car goes down the street until it turns the corner. "Be safe" I whisper under my breath and go back inside. 

After closing the door I head back into our bedroom and look down at my phone seeing a missed call from my father in law but he didn't bother leaving a message. He never calls me and since our last interaction wasn't the best I have no idea why he would even bother getting in touch with me now. 

"Y/n" he says simply when he picks up my call. "Yes?" I say waiting for him to get on with what was so important that it required a personal call from him. "Has my son left for the airport yet?" he questions and I'm curious as to why he would be asking me that instead of him. "Uh yeah he just left a few minutes ago" I say deciding to forward the information anyways. "Great, I need to speak to you about something, in person" he says which confuses me even more. "Why can't you just tell me now?" I question. 

"This is a personal matter and I would prefer it if we could just talk about it privately and have a civil conversation" he says and now that I take note of the background noise I can tell that he's probably in the car. "Okay that's fine" I concede without much of a fight and he tells he'll be there soon and hangs up without another word. I would prefer to avoid all conflicts with him since he's already not too fond of me to begin with but I might as well not give him another reason to be upset with me. 

"Hello" I say opening the front door for him and he walks in like I am simply 'the help' letting him into his own home and makes his way over to my husband's office. 'Sure make yourself at home' I think to myself and roll my eyes at him while closing the front door. "And to what do I owe the pleasure?" I question walking in with my arms crossed in front of my chest and leaning against the doorframe. "Y/n please sit down. I promise, I mean no harm" he says in the softest tone I've ever heard come out of his mouth which leaves me furrowing my brown and doing as he says, being caught off guard by his demeanor. 

"I wanted to discuss something with you" he says sitting on my husbands chair behind his desk. "So you said" I say lifting a brow at him. He's not usually one to mince words or beat around the bush, an example being the last interaction we had in person. "Why is it that you can't conceive?" he ask, coming back to his normal self somewhat but keeping that softer tone still. "I don't think I'm obligated to tell you that" I say simply, keeping my walls up despite his sudden change of character. 

"I just wanted to know if this is a situation that I can somehow...remedy" he says putting a strange emphasis on the end. "Meaning?" I question, not fully understanding what he could possibly mean by that. Or more like, I hope his thought process isn't just as twisted as mine is. "Well if the burden is on my family, mainly on my son then wouldn't it make sense that we would be the ones to help solve this problem?" he says standing up and walking around the desk to lean on it in front of me, still at somewhat of an appropriate distance. 

"Right" I say waiting for him to get to the point. "And seeing as I'm the one who is desperately awaiting an heir, shouldn't I be the one who is putting in the most effort find a solution?" he says never breaking eye contact. "Mr. Jeon what are you trying to say?" I say sitting upright in the chair, my body language showing clear discomfort. "Don't call me that" he says lowering his voice an octave catching me off guard and almost sending a current running up my spine. 

"What should I call you?" I say crossing one leg over the other, shifting around, suddenly feeling warm under his gaze. "By my name, or would you prefer something else?" he says with an eyebrow raised. "I would prefer to call you Mr. Jeon" I say in defiance, continuing to keep my walls up. "I guess that's fine, as long as you remember that it's me you're referring to" he says bending at the waist to meet me at eye level. 

"Referring to while what?" I ask feeling my heart rate pick up with this new proximity. "While I do what my son should've been able to do in the first place"  he says looking down at my lips for a moment before straightening back up, providing me room to breathe again. "Mr. Jeon I think you should leave" I say after clearing my through and getting up to walk out of the room but before I'm able to get far he holds me back by my wrist, pulling me towards him. 

"There's no need to run sweetheart, we're just talking" he says and brushes my hair out of my face that had been moved out of place by his sudden movements. "I'm not running" I say through clenched teeth trying to stand firm though I feel my defenses crumble with every honey coated word that drips from his lips, leaving me conflicted. "Good, then why don't you sit back down for me." he says and gently guides me back by my waist to do as he suggested. 

"Let's just say this, I have a proposition for you" he says leaning back on the desk again. "There's nothing to propose, your son is my husband" I say trying to show him how crazy this all is. "I am aware" he says plainly waiting for my further reasons to decline his offer. "Shouldn't that be reason enough?" I question, not understanding how he doesn't see how sick and twisted this arrangement is that he is proposing. 

"You duty to your husband is to always want the best for him correct? To do anything to make him happy? Don't you think that he would be happy coming home from his long trip away to find you pregnant with his child?" he says circling around the chair I'm in, dragging his finger along the back of it and stopping to rest his hand on my shoulder. "But it wouldn't be his child" I say looking up at him which was a huge mistake as his gaze has got me feeling breathless from the intensity. Pupils dilated and eyes forever trained on my entire existence, tracing every curve with his eyes, desperate to see what is hidden underneath everything I'm wearing. 

"He doesn't have to know that. He would share his DNA, and that's good enough for me" he says brushing it off. "Well then why don't you and your wife have another child?" I question, "Then he can take over when my husband retires. They would be the same age anyway if I were to have a child now" I say quickly offering a solution. "Haven't you always wanted to be a mother? Have a child to call your own?" he questions now holding my jaw in place, maintaining eye contact. 

"Yes" I say now nervous from the intimate contact. "And my son has always wanted to be a father no? He knows it would take a lot of pressure off everyone once you do have a child right? I would pull back and we would have our heir. Don't you want that?" he questions. "Not like this" I whisper barely holding on, the last of my defenses finally diminished. "Do it for him. No one has to know I promise." he says, rubbing his thumb against my bottom lip. 

"But I love him" I say, my eyes welling up with tears, knowing that I don't have the fight in me to stop this anymore. "And you're doing this because you love him" he says closing our proximity and bringing his lips close enough to touch but holds back for a second. "It's your call" he says and waits for me to take the next move 'I'm so sorry' I think to myself, begging for my husband's forgiveness and close my eye while also closing the distance between us. 

Part two Do it for Us | Jeon Jungkook

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[boldstarks]

Lady Y/N of House Fenrir (Dune AU)

word count: 581 words

I saw Dune Part One during the rerelease, and I saw Part Two during the Thursday previews, so I have a new fixation. The reader is the daughter of an archduke who rules a world called Fenrir and the surrounding moons.

The planet Fenrir is rich in natural resources such as coal, iron, salt, and other precious metals and gemstones. The artisans of the planet are known for their intricate jewelry, which is prized throughout the known universe.

Over the years, House Fenrir refined their mining machinery until they needed nearly no workers in the mines. This development of technology enriches House Fenrir and makes mining and harvesting resources easier, safer, and less time-consuming.

These technologies are also what House Harkonnen uses to harvest spice on Arrakis, making the Archduke a very important ally to the Baron and other Great Houses, who have come to rely upon their superior machinery.

Your father is Vulcan Fenrir, the twenty-second Archduke of Fenrir, and it is well known that he cares deeply for his family. You are the second-oldest of four children.

You and your older sister, Maron, were the product of Vulcan's first marriage to a Ferin woman named Clio Fotol. Clio was the daughter of a well-established merchant family on Fenrir. The people expected Vulcan to marry a member of the Bene Gesserit, and his match with a Ferin woman proved to be a popular choice.

Your mother, you, and your sister are beloved by the planet's people. The people's love didn't save Clio from falling ill and dying a short time later. By age five, you were motherless and feeling lost in the world.

Vulcan was more than ready to make your sister heir when the Reverend Mother Gauis Helen Mohaim approached him. The Archduke was told about the calls for him to produce a son to inherit his seat and that making your sister his heir would only put her in danger. After Clio's death, you and your sister were everything to your father, so he decided to arm you the only way he knew how.

He paid the Bene Gesserit to teach you both their ways. Maron was an apt pupil and flourished under the teaching of a reverend mother named Aurelia Tomner. She made her ambitions to become a full-fledged member of the Bene Gesserit known by the age of twelve. You, on the other hand, were much more strong-willed and rebellious.

Little did anyone know that Lady Aurelia had another task besides educating you and Maron: seducing the Archduke. She succeeds rather quickly in that respect. A little under a year after Lady Aurelia joined your household, she produced a rather large, screaming son whom your father called Bacchus.

Upon Bacchus's birth, you realized that you would no longer be inheriting Fenrir's seat of power, and you finally invested yourself in learning the ways of the Bene Gesserit. Through them, you learned there was a quieter kind of power that existed in the shadows behind the men who fancied themselves in charge.

During your training, Lady Aurelia gave birth to a second son for your father, and Maron became concubine to the heir of House Ginaz under the sisterhood's direction.

By age twenty, the Reverend Mother Mohaim decided that you were ready. You are now a full-fledged member of the Bene Gesserit and one of their most promising prospects. It was decided that your first task would be marrying and imprinting yourself on the Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

[multific]

The Union of Two Houses

Paul Atreides x Reader

Warning: Arranged marriage

Summary: To strengthen the connection between your family and House Atreides, you are to marry Paul.

"Lady Y/L/N." came the voice from the entrance, letting everyone inside know that you have arrived.

Paul waited anxiously, often looking at his mother as she tried her best to calm him.

He had so many conversations with his parents ever since the news came that he was to marry a princess. Of course, Paul is against the idea. Marrying someone he didn't even know? He refused. But deep down, he understood his father's reasons. House Y/N/L was a very strong house, they held powers no one else did. So, Paul understood his father wanted to have such a powerful House on his side.

You, on the other hand, had been told since you were a child that one day you will marry a man you don't even know. 

Being the youngest out of five children, all four of your siblings being boys. You felt like your parents only saw you as a tool for them to marry off to a good family for connections.

And while you were told and prepared, it still did make you extremely anxious. 

You worried about what kind of a man would your father find for you. You feared he would give you to a terrible man who would hurt you, who would make the rest of your life miserable. 

"Atreides has a son. You will marry the son to strengthen the bond between the families." your mother told you one day, and you couldn't object.

And now, here you were, wearing a veil over your face to keep your innocence intact.

Paul looked at his mother, confused as to why was his bride wearing that.

"They have different customs." explained his mother and she only now realized Paul should have been advised about a couple of said customs.

While his father greeted you, Paul was looking at the floor, he soon realized you were standing in front of him, slowly bowing as his father introduced him.

"My son, your soon-to-be husband, Paul."

"Pleasure to meet you." you spoke up and Paul could barely hear you.

"Pleasure is all mine, Lady."

---

Paul was informed you will stay in a room close to his. Paul was also rather surprised that none of your parents attended.

He assumed maybe they would be there for the wedding.

There was a knock on his door, when he opened it he found you standing there, still wearing your veil.

"I apologize for interrupting your afternoon, your mother told me you could show me around?" now he heard you a little better, but your voice was still quiet.

"Of course, Lady." he simply said before leading you around the castle.

Showing you everything.

You particularly seemed to enjoy the garden and the library. Looking at all the different books.

"You enjoy reading?" He asked.

"Of course, I do. On our planet it is mostly raining, so we often stay inside. Reading by the window as the rain falls is something I will miss." 

"I can show you a couple books I enjoy."

"You read, My Lord?" you sounded rather surprised.

"When my time allows me."

"Oh, doesn't sound like you have a lot of free time."

"I don't, but I can still enjoy books." you smiled although you knew he wouldn't see that. "May I ask, Mother said you have customs before the wedding... I would like to know some, as I do not wish to offend you."

"Oh," you were surprised he was willing to learn. "I wear the veil so that my husband can take it off of my face during the ceremony. It symbolises purity, innocence and my willingness to my husband. Another custom is that we mustn't talk on the day of the wedding, nor can we see each other. It is said the desire would be greater that way. Do you have any customs?"

"None like that, but I wish to follow yours."

"I appreciate that, Lord."

"Call me Paul, please. I do not want us to be cold to each other, if I may also call you by your given name."

"I'd like that." you smiled and he could hear the smile in your voice.

Paul was intrigued. That afternoon he realized just how kind and gentle you were. He assumed it was your upbringing that made you so soft-spoken. You spoke briefly about your parents and siblings while Paul spoke about his family.

---

The wedding went on as everyone expected it. Your parents and your people arrived for the ceremony.

It was a true celebration of the union of two Houses. 

Paul was rather nervous to remove your veil but once he did and his eyes locked with yours, he smiled.

His bride was beautiful on the outside as much as she was on the inside. He placed just the softest little kiss on your lips as you were pronounced husband and wife.

And then, the celebration began.

Two cultures met.

Everyone was surprised at how much your people loved to dance. 

Never leaving the dance floor only to eat.

Paul smiled as he watched everyone celebrate, even the children were dancing, inviting his people to the dancefloor.

"I will be back soon." you said as you leaned over to Paul and he nodded.

You stood and walked with one of your maids.

The 'high table' as they called it was a bit further from the guests' tables. allowing space between them. The dancefloor was right by the guests as they occupied it mostly. Paul's eyes were still glued to the people, then a man stood up and the music stopped.

"Ladies and Gentleman, it is my pleasure to announce the next portion of the wedding, admittedly, it is my favourite part." said the man as he lifted a metal bowl. At this time, you walked out, wearing a completely different dress than the one you were in before, this allowed you to move more free and everyone could see the beautiful details. "Ladies and Gentleman I hope you all brought your silver or gold, as from now, the bride is for sale!" As the man lifted his hand, the music began and everyone at the high table, except your parents, looked between one another. 

Sale?

How dare they?! Paul nearly choked as he saw an older man toss a coin into the metal bowl, he took your hand and you danced with him, soon, a line formed, and everyone wanted to dance with you.

Your mother turned to Paul and his family.

"One of our oldest traditions. Everyone gets the chance to dance with the bride in exchange for a coin. It is why we call it 'the bride is for sale'. "

"Isn't it a bit...degrading?" asked Lady Jessica.

"Oh! Not at all! If anything we quite like it! The money collected usually goes to the newly-wedded couple so they could start their own lives together. Usually, in cases of royal weddings we give the collected money to charity or people in need." your mother said.

You smiled as a young little girl put a coin into the bowl as she made her way over to you, wanting to dance with you.

Thankfully, you were prepared for people of all ages. As you should be.

"I do hope the Duke would also take his chance and dance with my daughter." smiled your mother as your father joined the now slightly shorter queue of people. 

"Should I?" asked the Duke and your mother nodded quickly.

"Only if you wish to. Once everyone had their turn, Paul should be the last, to end the dance." your mother said and Paul nodded.

Paul watched as you danced with your father, a smile adoring your face since you began. Then, the line ended but the music didn't stop, you quickly moved to drink some water before you heard another coin hit the now, almost full bowl, turning you saw the Duke himself standing there.

You smiled as you quickly made your way to him.

"I wish for a slower dance if I may. I am not as young as I once was." he said as he reached out for your hand.

"You will be fine." you said pulling him with you and he laughed.

You dared to defy the Duke himself as he quickly moved on the dance floor. Not letting him down as the music reached his end.

"Thank you." you told him as you did to everyone else, soon everyone was sitting while you were slowly moving alone on the dancefloor.

Your mother told you, when the time comes, she will send over Paul.

Paul slowly stood up, making sure everyone had their turn before walking towards you. 

As soon as he arrived close to you, you turned as you motioned for the band. The music changed as you two danced. First, it was a quicker pace as everyone around you cheered. Then a slower song was playing as you just swayed in his arms, people soon joining you. 

"You look beautiful in this dress." he said and you barely heard him over the people and the music.

"Thank you. I hoped you would enjoy it."

"I do. Seeing you dance and have fun, it made me happy."

"Paul..."

"I hope you don't have any more traditions that you are hiding from me." he smiled and you smirked.

"I have just one, but I'm sure you are also familiar with that one." Paul laughed, understanding your hint.

He always knew he would be in an arranged marriage, with his title, it was a given. However, you were a true gift. Something he didn't expect is that he actually really enjoyed being with you.

He could see himself in a very happy marriage with you. And with another feather light kiss to your lips, it was his promise sealed. 

His promise of happiness and joy.

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARIZE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[maddascanbe-blog]

Huh, I expected to get my drawing of Teen Zoé done for the redesigns first. Oh well... Only Kwami-swaps of the Lifeswap AU!

Meet Amaranth and Cerastes!

For no reason at all I decided to give Swap-Zoé long hair and Swap-Chloé shorter hair. Which is the exact opposite of my normal redesigns for them.

André won the custody battle for Zoé, and put his best foot forward into raising her and Chloé. Zoé is similar to how she is in cannon, late season 5. But she still learned how to mirror people, convincing them to lower their guard around her. She is a politicians daughter after all, and having people on your side is most important when convincing people to follow you. Zoé ultimately wants to do good for Paris, and is good friends with Ivan and the other members of Kitty section due to their activist mindsets.

Zoé's biggest fear is the secret of her being not André's biological daughter coming to light. He told her when she was 13 because he worried her biological father might try and regain custody in order to extort André for money. He made it clear in no uncertain terms that she is Zoé Bourgeois, the youngest of the family, Chloé's sister, and his daughter.

While she is happy André won't give her up for anything, she finds a new resentment for Audrey. And lives in fear this will harm her father's reputation, change how her relationship with her sister works, and effect how her friends see her, should it ever come to light.

Chloé's know for years that Zoé was the result of Audrey's cheating, she knew that one of the contentions during the divorce was that Audrey was barely in Paris the entire first 2 years of Chloé's life. The math didn't math, so she pieced together the truth. This only added fuel to her burning hatred for Audrey, Zoé is her little sister.

As Amaranth, Zoé makes her voice Heard! There is no stopping her once she's set her mind to it. I based her outfit on a womens power suit, and those asymmetrically colored biker jackets.

Juleka meanwhile, grew up with Anarka. She remembered her brother from when they were little, and is a tad horrified at who he's grown up to be. With Luka gone, Juleka lost her spark and her voice. She almost never talks, and doesn't stand up for anything. She just goes through the motions most days. Anarka tried to bring that light back to her daughters eyes, but every step forward has two steps back taken by Juleka's bullies. Being a quiet kid, who's mom can't keep a job, wears hand me downs, and whose dad ran off didn't leave much to be desired when it came to options of being harrassed.

Finally Anarka broke and asked Jagged to let the twins reunite. She hoped this might be a chance for Juleka to find herself again. And while Luka had changed too much from her caring and strong twin, she did find Zoé, Marinette, Adrien, and the members of Kitty Section.

Do you remember Juleka helping Zoé dye her hair in Sole Crusher? Well this time it happens in reverse. After getting comfortable with the group, she approaches Zoé about getting her hair colored. Naturally, Zoé's gotta help her girly out.

After Luka is deemed no longer suitable to be a miraculous holder, Ladybug and Chat Noir decide to give Juleka a chance. Cerastes isn't flashy, or confident. She's stealthy, sharp, and attentive.

Juleka's spent years just adapting to new situations and learning to read people for the sake of surviving, and it comes in handy when it comes to figuring out Akuma's.

Unshockingly, Luka isn't happy to see his miraculous used by someone else, though it does take a while to get there since Cerastes doesn't even get properly seen for ages. She's very good at disappearing.

Anarka is so relieved that Juleka finally found her people, that she's even willing to stay in Paris to keep her close to her friends. She still struggles to keep a normal job, but anything to see her little girl smile again.

[acourtofmoonlightandstars]

Find me - Chapter 3

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: At a ball you meet the one person you thought you would never see again, you left him once. Will you leave him again?

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Violence, I guess?

Note: We have some new friendships and some good old Rhysand and inner circle slander, høhø. Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list.

Chapter 2

You jumped from the balcony, not caring about the height you’d had to fall to reach the garden beneath. You were still in your nightgown but you didn’t care. There was no way you weren’t leaving right away. 

There was nothing to do except sprint towards the staples, you might have a mate with wings, but since you yourself didn’t have any, they would have to be borrowed elsewhere. 

You ran on bare feet, not even noticing the cuts the rocks beneath your feet caused. Nothing mattered, nothing except this, except him. 

Luna was in her stable, dark and strong as always. The fairy lights shone on her blank feathers and reflected the light. Your father had gifted you the pegasus because he thought she matched your eyes. And the two of you had instantly bonded. 

You quickly slid into your riding pants and their matching leather boots, all meant to keep you safe and warm in the high altitude. 

“Hey girl, are you ready for a trip to Night?” you whispered into the neck of Luna, you twisted some of her mane around your finger as she gently pushed your hip. It was almost as if she asked you to hurry up and get going. 

You chuckled, and the shadow that had manifested in your skin came back to life and slid up her mane and rested between her ears. It looked like she was suddenly wearing a crown of shadows, and it made her look even more majestic than she already did. 

Luna stretched out her wings and made room for you to climb up her back, and just as you set off into the night, Lucien came crashing into the stable, only to see you disappear up into the sky.

Azriel had never really gotten up after the meeting in Rhy’s office earlier that day. He had stayed in that spot on the couch. As usual no one really seemed to notice. When the meeting had ended they all scattered to find out information about his so-called condition, no one stayed behind to check in, to hug him as he cried. 

He clawed at his chest again. She would’ve, she would’ve stayed. He kept repeating the thought as a mantra. 

It was dark out when the High Lord once again joined him in the office. “Az, what are you…” he started, but was quickly interrupted. 

“Let me go, let me go get Elain” he asked. “I need to feel like I’m doing something…” 

Rhysand sighed as he sat down on his large chair behind his desk. “You are doing something, your shadows are doing more than any of us ever could.” he rested his cheek in his hand as he looked at his brother. 

Azriel only shook his head. “I don’t care, and honestly Rhys, I’m going with or without your permission” his eyes were cold, in a way that was only ever directed at his victims, the people he tortured, never had he ever looked at anyone from his family with eyes like that. 

Rhysand sat up in his chair, face folded in his neat mask with that feline smile of a cover for his true emotions. Azriel rolled his eyes at his behavior. 

“So, this is how it’s gonna be, huh?” he asked as he let his power roam through the room. It was enough to make the fiercest warrior afraid, but Azriel wasn’t just anybody. 

“Yes” he answered as he stood up. The High Lord of Night’s eyes darkened. “You’re in no position to leave, you're broken, bruised and you’re definitely not thinking straight” Rhysand stood from his chair, palms placed at the cool mahogany surface. He let some more of his power free. 

“Just because you were willing to let Feyra go, just because Cassian refused to tell Nesta the truth about who they were to each other, doesn't mean I want to do the same brother.” he spit out the last word as he felt his shadows dance around him in a protective manner. “Let’s be honest, the two of you were cowards, too afraid of them refusing you to even try to fight for them, for their love. I have no intention of doing that. I have always been rejected and refused, but not with her, at least not yet. And if she were to refuse me I’d rather have that happen sooner rather than later” 

“That’s not fair, they both did what they thought was best for us” Feyra said from the door opening with Nyx in her arms, but Azriel only shrugged. 

“Have you ever stopped to think that this might all be a trick?” Rhysand asked. “That you’re being manipulated by someone to leave Valaris? That an attack could be coming? If you leave our first defense, your spies, will leave with you and we will be vulnerable” 

He had to admit that his High Lord was making a good point. But he should also know that Azriel would never leave Valaris unprotected. “Fine, I’ll leave a few stationed by the borders to inform you if they catch an intruder. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really wanna get going” 

And with that he stepped through a shadow, leaving his High Lord and Lady alone in the study. Rhysand couldn’t help but wonder if he was well on his way to make an enemy of the Shadowsinger, and if that were the case, he was scared of what that might mean for not only his court, but his family. 

“What do you mean she left?! I thought you said she was so weak that she could barely walk?!” Azriel heard the High Lord of Day yell through the halls. His voice bounced on the walls, and he could feel the almost scolding power that he radiated, despite being no way near him. Helion's voice was sad, heartbroken and worried. It was new for him to catch the High Lord in a position like that. It seemed that these two usually powerful men were both in a vulnerable state. 

“Someones here” Elain said, as she laid a hand on her mates beating heart. Lucien quickly turned towards the hall where Azriel’s shadows had taken him, he quickly put himself in front of his mate, as he lit both the fire and the light that was hidden away in his veins. 

As Azriel stepped into the light, none of the three high fae spoke. He looked like a shell of the person that Elain had seen just the night before, there hadn’t even gone a day, what had happened to her friend? She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips. 

The shadowsinger couldn’t help but smirk, but it never reached his eyes. “I hope you don’t mind me stopping by, but I need your help Elaine”. It only took a few steps for Lucien to get in front of the Spymaster. His hand rested on the back of his neck, checking his temperature. His hands slid up his cheeks and forced him to meet his eyes as they scanned him for any kind of injury. 

“I’m fine Luce'' he said as he brushed away his hands. The most amazing thing that had come from Azriel's previous crush on the Archeron sister was the friendship with the Vanserra. The two men had learned to understand each other on a level no other could. And in the last decade Lucien and Elaine had become the people Az would always turn to. 

None of them really showed the rest of their inner circle the bond that they shared. Elain had always said it would be too dangerous, never really specifying why. So they met up in other courts, snuck away at balls to drink and laugh with one another. 

Elaine was by Azriels side in a second, taking his arms in hers, and it was almost like he collapsed in the pair's arms. Like if he came home and his body finally allowed itself to relax. His knees gave after and he broke down. He didn't even have the energy to hold his wings off the ground. The state of the Illyrian even worried Helion as he called out for his soldiers to fetch him a healer, that was despite the fact that he seemed to have enough worries of his own. 

“Az, what the hell happened to you?” Elaine said as he brushed his curls from his forehead, but he couldn’t meet her eyes. He just stared at his hands. A few seconds later, he passed out from exhaustion. 

You rode all night, desperate to be in the Night Court as soon as daylight hit the territory of one of the oldest allies of her fathers. Helion had always respected Rhysand, always adored Feyra and thirsted after your own mate and his best friends. 

A fire ran through your body at the mere thought of some other person's hands on his body. It was weird, because the bond hadn’t snapped yet, but you still knew that he belonged to you, and the possessiveness was already clouding your mind. You couldn’t help the chuckle. 

Shortly after you had crossed the border you landed on a hillside outside what you assumed to be Valaris, you would wait here, for anyone of the so-called innercircle to come find you. No need to make them worry, they were warriors after all. 

It didn’t take long before you saw the High Lord and Lady winnow a few hundred meters away from you. Shortly after followed the Morrigan, Cassian, Nesta and Amren. But no Azriel. You felt how your heart contacted, how the disappointment sept through your body. Why wasn’t he here? Did he know you were coming and had decided he wanted nothing to do with you? 

“Couldron boil me, that’s a fucking black pegasus” you heard Nesta breathe out in chock. You smiled at her, and she took a step towards you, mesmerized by the creature, but was quickly stopped by her mate. 

A second later you felt as both Rhysand and Feyra tried gaining access to your mind. Your walls of black obsidian, as dark as your eyes kept them out, and it didn’t take long for them to realize there was no way in. 

“Who are you?” Rhysand yelled out towards you. 

“I’m Y/N, emissary from Day” you spoke clearly, tried your best to seem as confident as possible as you were stared down by all of them, your mates' chosen family. 

“How come we’ve never met you then?” Feyra then said, Rhysand was slowly walking closer to you as he assessed you, your stance and Luna too. 

“I’ve spent the majority of my time in Autumn ever since Eris took over, and as far as I know, you aren’t that close with the Vanserras” you felt how the fire in your veins wanted to make them known as you spoke of your other home court, but you kept it hidden. Your father had kept your identity a secret for a reason after all. 

“Only an idiot would willingly spend time with that snake Eris” Cassian said as he crossed your arms. You couldn’t help but look at Mor who to most people was as poised as ever, but you saw how her shoulders shrunk by the mention of your oldest brother. Lucien had told you of how she had decided to keep the truth of her run-in with Eris a secret, and not defend him. Not calling her out, took every bit of willpower you had stored in your body. 

Instead you rolled your eyes, as you had learned your brothers often did when the matter of that day centuries ago was brought up. Mor seemed to recognize the gesture but kept it to herself. 

“None of that really explains why you’re here girl” Amren said with a cold, almost indifferent tone. 

You sighed as you pulled off your riding gloves. “I’m here to seek out your Shadowsinger, High Lord and Lady” you might be better off with fake formalities you thought. 

Rhysands eyes darkened instantly. “And tell me, what is it exactly you want with my Spymaster?” it all seemed like too much of a coincidence to the pair. 

Be careful… Worried… Angry… Afraid. 

The shadow that had accompanied from Day, had at some point managed to slither up your neck and now sat close to your ear and whispered information to you about the people who stood before you. 

It was impossible for you to hold back the smirk that painted your lips. Azriel might not be here, but his shadow was helping you, and it made you feel safe. 

You shrugged. “I have some information for him,” you said. The answer didn’t seem to please Rhysand, and you felt that insane amount of power radiate from him. 

“As far as I know, Azriel is my spymaster, he reports to me. So whatever information you have for him, you can tell me” Rhysand smirked, but his eyes were dark, cold. He seemed on edge, as if he had expected something to happen soon, as if he expected an attack. 

You smiled at him, tried to seem as gentle and non threatening as possible. And then you shook your head and Rhysands smile faltered. “No, this only concerns him, no one else” 

“You’ve trespassed into our court, you seek out one of the most powerful people in all of Prythia and you refuse to tell me why. What exactly do you expect me to do?” He said as he flicked off a piece of lint from his sleeve. No doubt a coping mechanism to seem somewhat indifferent. It didn’t work on you. 

“I expect you to welcome me like you would any other emissary, and something tells me this isn’t the usual welcome wagon” You catch eyes with Nesta as she smirks at your comment. Elaine had always told you that she had a problem with their brother-in-law. 

“You’ve chosen to come at a bad time, and apart from that Helion usually informs me of the emissaries he sends our way, he hasn’t this time. So maybe you’re just one of Eris’s whores, coming here to see if you could seduce the only unmated man in my innercircle to get information” 

Rhysand looked to a few of Azriel’s shadows that stood close by. “Grab her and take her to the dungeons” he ordered, and the shadows rushed towards you. But just like on the balcony these shadows stopped a few feet from you, and when your little friend revealed itself from its hiding place in your hair, Azriel’s shadows rushed up to join it on your shoulders. 

They were filled with excitement as they kept chanting mate, over and over as they took turns to shower you with compliments. You giggled at them, despite the danger you knew stood before you. Your first little friend gave you a peck on the cheek and left you with its friends, slithering away to find its master and tell him to hurry home. 

“Is she a shadowsinger?” Mor said as she took a step forward. The surprise was easy to read on all their faces. Nesta leaned into Cassian with a knowing smirk as she gave you a small nod. 

“I’m not here to cause trouble, please believe that” You said as the shadows calmed and rested in your hair, on your shoulders, up your arms and down your legs. They provided you with an extra layer of protection. 

“Let the shadows go” Feyra ordered, as wings grew from her back. It was an incredible sight to see her shape shift before you. 

“I’m not their master, they go where he orders them to, I'd imagine” you answered, but Rhysand seemed to be filled with your excuses, and sent out a wave of pure power aimed directly at you. 

You heard Nesta scream “NO!” as he did, a reaction that earned her a look from the High Lord. The shadows took the blow, which made you wince on their behalf. You had no idea if they were conscious beings, if they could feel pain. You hope they couldn’t. 

Feyra helped her mate in his attack, sending light your way that never hit its target and fire that never burned your skin. Her frustrations were clear to see for all, personally you couldn’t help the smirk on your lips. 

And then you raised a hand and all light that surrounded the inner circle disappeared, leaving all but Nesta in complete and utter darkness. 

“Did that witch just blind me?!” Cassian yelled out. As he tried desperately to get to his mate. Nesta just rolled her eyes before grabbing his hand, she did however have a subtle smile on her lips. 

“I just wanna talk to Azriel, please… Just tell me where he is” you felt how your voice threatened to break. 

“He’s not here Lightstealer” Amren said with a calm and collected voice. “He’s in another court, and I’m guessing none of us plan to tell you which before you give us our sight back” The small woman crossed her arms as she shot out one of her hips. 

You sank to your knees ready to give up on your quest and let your power go, once again making it possible for them to see. You felt your tears stream silently down your cheeks. The shadows were desperate to calm you, to make you feel better. In that moment you were all they saw, and one second later, something hit you over the head and everything went black.

Taglist: @tele86 @lilah-asteria @photographmymusic

[springseasonie]

Two worlds apart | JJH (M)

Prince Jaehyun x maid fem reader, arranged marriage trope, forbidden love trope

Part 2.

Summary: Jaehyun can't stay away from you, even on his wedding night. And his new wife knows about the fondness you both have for each other, but is willing to rip it apart. However, the last thing Jaehyun wants is to be a part from you, for better or for worse. (This is based in 19th century england, regency era fashion bc i love bridgerton and used it for inspo for this fic.)

Warnings: sexual content, angst, unprotected (it's literally the 19th century), standing sex, infidelity, historically inaccurate but idc, proofread but there may be little mistakes here and there

Word count: 7,2k

Song recs: cool with you by new jeans

A/N: this was requested but I loved the idea so much that I had to write more than needed lmao. Wasn't intending to write smut for this but sometimes shit happens. Feedback is loved and appreciated as always 🩷🩷

"Jaehyun?"

You rubbed your eyes, voice groggy from just being woken out of your sleep. The prince was in the maid's quarters. Why was he in the maid's quarters? It was the night after his wedding and was spending it on one of his family's many estates, but why was he not spending his night with his new wife and looking for you?

"My grace, what are you doing–"

He pulled the covers off you quickly, wild eyes looking between you and the other maid that was fast asleep on the other side of the room. The oil lamp was bright, shining in your eyes in the pitch black room. "Come on," he said quietly, pulling you up from your bed.

You shook your head, trying to get away from him, but his grip was too strong. Before you knew it, you were out the door of your room and being pulled down the hall of the basement. "M-my grace, you shouldn't be doing this right now," you said, trying to remain calm as your heart basically beat from your chest.

"Y/N, I tried, I really did." Jaehyun led you up the stairs, looking around for any guards or any of his wife's staff.

His hold on your hand was strong as he sped walk through the hall, wanting to avoid the lurking eyes of anyone who might ruin his plans for the night. Jaehyun was the prince of Florin, a small but wealthy country. His whole life, he was mentally beaten with the responsibility of continuing the family line, marrying a princess from another country to join Florin and make it richer and more powerful. His parents were never in love, his mother only fulfilling her responsibility as a woman and bearing a child for the king.

His whole life he thought love wasn't a real thing, that's what his father told him anyway. "Love is weak. It makes you weak, and you can't be weak in a world where weakness gets you nowhere." He believed these words for a long time, never having a reason to care about anyone, or even himself. That was true until he met you. You were his first love, and possibly his last. Jaehyun couldn't even tell you when and why he loves you so much he just did and he wanted to be with you forever, but he knew that couldn't be. Both of you did.

You couldn't say you were in love with him, but you definitely fell first. Maybe it was his handsome face, regal demeanor, the way he carried himself. You didn't know. But what you did know is that your feelings crossed the line. You remember the first time he kissed you after making you confess your feelings, the smile on his face, the way he looked down at you in his fancy clothes. At that moment you knew you couldn't get yourself out of the hell hole you were in now.

You and Jaehyun have been flirting around for years, him always pulling you away from your responsibilities. He often snatched you from your duties in the kitchen, taking you into the pantry to kiss and talk to you. The other maids saw the way he looked at you, but never said a word about it. He would watch you around the castle, eyes lingering and never looking away even when they should. His parents knew how much he liked you, but never said anything. But one day, his mother did catch the both of you. She threatened to have your head on a stick, but Jaehyun convinced her it was all him and she let you stay.

Jaehyun pulled you to the back of the estate, opening the door as he walked you through the rain.

"My grace, it's storming. We shouldn't be out here," you shouted, covering your head as much as you could. Jaehyun didn't care about the rain, he didn't care about anything. He just needed to be alone with you.

Jaehyun didn't say anything, his face remained completely stone cold as he pulled you under the cabana a ways from his home. He stood in front of you, staring at your bewildered face. Your hair was wet, moist eyes shining in the moonlight. The fabric of your clothes were clinging to your skin, the now wet gown going see through.

You hadn't even noticed, but Jaehyun did. He was right to always be a gentleman, to never let his desires cloud his eyes, but goodness. Your chest looked so good through the fabric. However, he has to remain calm and collected. Jaehyun took a deep breath, gulping before speaking.

"I want to be with you Y/N."

You truly did not know what to say. He pulled you out of your bed in the middle of the night out into the rain just to tell you this? "My grace, is this what you woke me for?"

Jaehyun took your hands looking down at you, eyes shifting between your eyes and lips. "I don't want to be married to her Y/N." His eyes shook, grip on your hands getting tight. He needed to be near you, close to you. For the past couple of months, you were his world, his only concern. But being forced into a marriage with a woman he barely knew for a week crushed him. He knew he couldn't be with you, but it hurt nonetheless.

"We should not be out here. It is your wedding night and you should be with her right now," you said sternly. Jaehyun noticed the way you looked around frantically. You were scared of being caught again, he could tell.

"Don't be scared. There is no one out here on a stormy night like this," he said softly.

"But the queen– she'll kill me if she sees me. She'll kill you if she sees me. Jaehyun we cannot continue like this," you said, brows furrowing. You didn't want to see him in a loveless marriage. You cared for him too much, but you couldn't keep putting your safety on the line. You always felt like he didn't understand you. Jaehyun had always had everything his whole life, never having to live with fear of losing anything or anyone. Of course, his responsibilities as a prince were different from yours – you were just a poor maid after all. But he seems so oblivious to your life and what you do, and this is one of the moments when he thinks life is easy for you just as it is for him.

"My mother says a lot of things. You do not need to worry about her. Her threats are empty," he said with a small smile.

"My grace… you are very naive," you sighed. "I am not safe here. I am not safe with you."

Jaehyun's happy expression slowly fades after hearing your words. You weren't safe with him? "You'll always be safe with me," he said, letting go of your hands.

"We are from 2 different worlds. I can never be safe with you. Even if you shield me with armor, I still wouldn't be safe," you said, taking his hands softly. "Please don't make that face at me."

"I'm not making a face." Jaehyun looked angry and hurt. He couldn't even lie to you even if he tried being the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. But he wasn't hurt by your words, more so the fact that everything you said was true. "I love you Y/N."

You've heard him say he loves you many times, but never like this. This time wasn't like a lovestruck puppy, he said it with conviction. Jaehyun was seriously in love with you. You didn't say anything, the storm getting worse as the big rain droplets fell onto the roof of the cabana, filling the space. "My grace–"

"Please just say my name," he sighed. "Right now it's just you and me. Just say my name, there is no need for formalities."

"Jaehyun," you started, "you can't love me. You must love your wife in the house."

The words stung his heart like needles. The reality of this unwanted situation kept coming through the light over and over again. He did not want to be with anyone that wasn't you and he knew he was in too deep. Just look at him – in the rain with you and not consummating his marriage with his now wife. He hated himself for falling so deeply for you, but was addicted to the fuzzy feeling in his heart, the butterflies in his stomach when he saw you. He wanted it all the time.

"Do you love me?"

You always pushed the thought of loving him to the back of your mind knowing it would get you nowhere, but at the moment, maybe you really did. You would never tell anyone how badly his marriage hurt you, watching him be wedded to a woman he barely knew for a week and expected to have a child with her. It was supposed to be you. In another world or another life it would've been you. But there's no point in suppressing your feelings anymore, not when his pretty brown eyes are looking at you like you're his whole world.

"Jaehyun, I cherish you alot," you answered, not wanting to confess yet. "I'll always cherish you."

"I..I want to be a good husband to her, but I don't think I can," he said. "I don't want to be like my father and have a mistress, I don't think I can live without you."

You hadn't realized you were crying until Jaehyun reached a hand up to your face, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears with his thumb.

"Please don't cry. I hate seeing you cry," he said softly. Jaehyun pulled you closer to him gently, kissing your forehead.

"I'm tired Jaehyun," you sighed. You didn't want to talk anymore. The more you talked, the more you wanted to cry in his arms. You already had a long stressful day doing whatever task you had to do, so you would rather not create more stress for yourself. "You have a ball tomorrow, and I have to help set it up and help your– my princess."

Jaehyun gulped, reluctantly letting your hands go. Nodding, he took a step back. He did have a ball that he completely forgot about. Instead of getting rest, he was out in this stormy weather with you. "I understand. We will talk again tomorrow."

"Jaehyun–"

"We will talk again tomorrow," he repeated, tone dominant and a bit loud cutting you off.

You shook your head at his persistence. "Fine. We'll talk tomorrow. Goodnight, your grace.

"Goodnight." Jaehyun watched you run off into the rain, covering your head as much as you could to protect yourself from the rain. He wished he could just run away with you far from this place, this country, the palace. But for now all he could do was whisper the words he meant dearly as you ran.

"I love you."

"And are all the decorations ready?"

"Yes, your grace."

"And the invitations have been sent out?"

"Of course your grace."

Princess Rose stood tall as you pulled and tightened her corset, disposition remaining unphased as the garment squeezed her waist without warning. She was beautiful. Many people said she may be the most beautiful woman in the world. When you first met her, you wondered how long it would be until Jaehyun fell out of love with you. Her skin was as clear as a lake, eyes big and brown, body made of soft curves. Her smile lit up a room, but even with her image, Rose demanded respect and power anywhere she went. The perfect princess. The perfect queen.

She cleared her throat, making you glance up to look at her through the mirror. You almost stopped breathing realizing she was staring at you through the reflection, face stone cold. "Everyone out. Except you miss Y/N. You stay."

You tie the string tight in a bow, removing your hands from her body as soon as you are done. All of the other women in the room left in a hurry, not turning back to even get a glimpse of you or her.

The door shut, a loud echo making its way around the room. Rose turned around, her beauty becoming even more evident in the sunlight that peeked through the curtain. You stood there, hands folded in front of you as the both of you stood in silence. Rose looked you up and down, blonde brows scrunching as her mind raced with thoughts.

"I'm not jealous of you, you know," she said, breaking the silence.

You stared back at her confused. Jealousy? Where did that come from? "Jealous? I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean my grace," you said softly.

"I mean I'm not jealous of you," she repeated, a small smile tugging at her lips. But this wasn't a normal smile, it was condescending. "I was told that the prince and I would have some issues to work through in the early days of our marriage but I had no idea that said issue would be his very obvious relationship with his maid."

You stood there completely still. She knew. She knew about you and Jaehyun. Was it last night that she found out? Or did she see something the week she was in the country? You and Jaehyun had been so careful, or at least you tried to be. Jaehyun never cared as much as you did. "Let them find out. I don't care," he would always say.

"Calm down, you looked like you've seen a ghost," she said, laughing dryly. "It's alright that you and him have a secret relationship. I find it cute."

Your once shocked expression slowly turned hard, jaw clenching at the tone of her words. Cute? You didn't like that she called what you and Jaehyun had cute, especially not in that belittling tone. "Are you going to punish me for it?"

Rose suddenly burst into laughter hearing your question, her pretty smile making your stomach turn. "No. Why in the 7 seas would I do that," she said between giggles. "I don't care that he loves you and that you love him. In fact, I'm happy for you. It's hard for the poor to find happiness."

You winced at her statement. So this is what she was really like. Underneath the money, fame, clothes, face, body, she was just like every other royal you ever met. It wasn't surprising, but you didn't think she would shed her skin so quickly.

"I thought he would at least have some sense last night to consummate our marriage." The smile faded from her face, now being replaced with irritation. "A marriage means nothing if you can't produce an heir."

She was right, and it hurt you that she was right. Deep down you wanted all these things with him. The wedding, the wedding night, the honeymoon, the ball – just all of it. It was starting to feel like the princess was throwing all these things you couldn't have in your face. Rose took a step forward, looking at you deep into your eyes with an emotion you couldn't read.

"I know his mother must've caught the two of you at some point," she said quietly. "I'm not his mother, so there is no need to be scared of me."

You let out a small sigh of relief, but the small positive feeling was completely crushed under her feet. "But one thing about me is that I strive to be the best person possible at all times. I will be the best princess, queen, and wife. And the last part doesn't consist of you being with him within these walls."

"So what are you saying?"

Rose squinted her eyes at your sudden drop of honorifics, frown tugging on her lips. "Jaehyun is a very stubborn man, I'm sure you know this. Unless you release him from this mental anguish, he will never be happy, and I'm sure you want him to be happy don't you?"

You did want him to be happy. The only thing you ever wanted from him was to be happy. And your life has taught you that sometimes happiness takes sacrifice. "So you're saying that you want me to end things with him?"

"I knew you were smart," she said with a slight nod. "End things tonight. If you don't, just know things will be painful for the both of you from this point on. Now, do me a favor and let everyone back in."

You hurried to the door, opening it quickly. The other maids all walked back in a hurry, continuing what they were doing like they never stopped. Rose turned around, moving her hair to the front. You've never been more excited to work more than right now. All you wanted to do is delete the conversation you just had from your mind but it weighs heavy.

You have to do it tonight. You have to end things.

All you could hope is that he doesn't make it harder for you.

-

You stood in Jaehyun's office, the lamp softly brightening the space. It smelled of oak wood and lavender, two of his favorite smells. It was such a small space, completely closed off from the rest of the mansion. His office was his favorite place to be. It offered him lots of privacy especially in these days of high stress. He couldn't stand being pestered with all his royal duties, running away from everyone almost immediately.

You stood in the middle of the room, hands toying with the waist of your apron. You were on cooking duty for the rest of the night, so you were covered in all kinds of food and powders. Jaehyun was supposed to be outside with friends, family, acquaintances , her, but the moment he saw the note from you to come to his office he dropped everything to be there.

The music was blaring through the windows, all you could hear and see were expensive people drinking expensive wine in the most expensive clothes. It was traditional for the bride and groom to just simply be on a honeymoon by now, but because this was a special occasion of joining 2 kingdoms, there was a ball for the night.

You jumped, turning around instantly when the door opened. There stood Jaehyun in the most gorgeous suit you've ever seen. This was going to be very hard for you. Your heart pounded right out of your chest excited to see him but saddened with the thought of breaking his heart.

"I got your note," he said, walking up to you. Jaehyun looked you up and down, a smirk on his face at your messy appearance.

"Don't look at me like that," you said, face growing hot.

A deep chuckle erupted from his throat as he stepped to you, placing a hand on your waist. "I think you look very pretty tonight."

You didn't want to blush but you did, he was far too nice especially when you were covered in food, practically smelling like a bakery. "You should be saying that to your wife."

Jaehyun frowned, sighing at your response. "I did, but she didn't appreciate it as much as you did." He loved your shy, timid attitude. He loved the way you would look at the floor when you were embarrassed or nervous, like you were doing right now.

"J-jaehyun, we cannot continue this," you spoke softly. You needed him to listen to you, but you could tell he wasn't. The man was too busy staring at your lips, eyelids getting heavier the more he stared at you. "We cannot keep seeing each other like this. You are married now and-"

"Please. Can we not talk about this right now," he said softly.

"No. We have to." You removed his hand from your waist, but all he did was put both of them back. At this point, you were internally panicking. Knowing yourself, you can't become assertive with him. Every little touch, look, mention sent you into a spiral. "I want you to be happy and I'm sure you want to be happy. I don't want you to be miserable because of me."

Jaehyun pulled you closer to him gently, staring down into your eyes. "As long as you're around me, I won't be miserable." Jaehyun took your chin gently, tilting your head to look at him. You begin to feel yourself melt into his touch, resolve slowly melting away as he leans in. But you quickly regain your mind, shaking your head as you remove his hand.

"No. I will not do this. I will not be your mistress," you declared, stepping away from him.

Jaehyun stared at you without saying a word, looking at you with an unreadable expression. He knew you better than yourself at this point. When you were nervous or hiding something you would bite the inside of your cheek. Something definitely happened that he didn't know about, and he wants to find out.

"And why not," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Because you deserve to be happy. You deserve a marriage full of love and happiness and I don't intend on stopping that," you said. You could tell he wasn't listening to you since again, eyes trailing up and down your fully covered body.

"Fine."

Fine. Is that it? "Fine? Is that all you have to say?"

"Yes. I agree. I deserve to be happy."

You didn't understand, lashes fluttering in confusion. It was safe to say that you were a bit hurt, his soft stare turning intense, hands never leaving his front. But nonetheless, you nodded despite not wanting to and gathered your dress in your hands. Walking quickly to the door, you grabbed the knob when he spoke again.

"I don't want you to leave," he said.

You gulped, still turning the knob in silence.

"I said I don't want you to leave." Jaehyun's soft tone switched into a deep dark one, walking up to the door, holding it shut with force. He clearly shocked you and watched you remove your hand from the knob startled. Jaehyun had a million things going on through his mind at the moment, all of them having to do with you. "You aren't being yourself. I want you to tell me why."

"What are you talking about," you said quietly, not knowing if you were going to upset him or not.

"I'm saying that there is something you aren't telling me about and that's why you told me to come here tonight."

You couldn't tell him. Not tonight. Maybe another day or night where his reputation isn't solely based on the way he looks at his new wife. You know how he can be when angry, living and taking care of him and his family for many years now. Jaehyun is horrible at hiding facial expressions, even worse when he has to speak. His words have a bite to them, attitude on full display. You didn't want to ruin his night, be the blame for another reason he won't be happy in the future.

"I don't know what you're implying." You placed your hands behind your back, nerves now affecting your once still hands. You were shaking. This situation was a bit dire. You were only a maid, now being stuck in the middle of relationship politics you wanted nothing to do with. Jaehyun was growing ever more irritated with your persistence claiming there was nothing wrong. You looked like you saw a ghost, eyes continuously shifting between him and the window behind him.

Jaehyun likes to think he was a man of great intuition, always able to read people well. He knew right away it had something to do with Rose. "Did she say something to you?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Rose," he said, making himself more clear. "Did she say something to you? Does she know about last night?"

You didn't answer, but your silence was everything he needed. He was angry, face turning red, lips pursing into a thin line. You've seen him mad, but never this mad. He was a smart man, but very impulsive, so when you saw him reach for the doorknob, your heart stopped for what felt like a million years.

"Please don't," you choked out, looking at him with pleading eyes. "We don't need to make this harder than it already is."

"I will not allow anyone to make any threats towards you, especially not on my property," he growled angrily through gritted teeth. Jaehyun grabbed the knob about to turn it, but stopped feeling your hand on his.

"Stop. Just stop." Your voice cracked, tears on the verge of spilling over. "This is why I agreed to do this. I don't want this, Jaehyun."

"Agreed to do what? Tell me. I demand it." His voice boomed through the room. You were certain people outside the window could hear him, like always he didn't care.

"Rose talked to me today in her room," you said, wiping your tears and sniffling. "She said to end things with you."

"And you agreed?"

"Because I had to," you sobbed. "I just want you to be happy. I don't want to be the reason you can't be happy. I don't want to be your mistress, I want to be your world, but if I have to give that up, I will."

Tears spilled down your face, hot and heavy as you cried. Jaehyun was still angry, but his expression softened as he watched you cry. The man wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, trapping you in the warmth of his arms. No one has ever cried for him like this. No one has ever cried because of him like this. Jaehyun starts to feel the weight of the situation and regrets all his last actions. Nothing he has said or done has been in an effort to figure any of this out while you're left with the burden.

"It's okay Y/N. I'm sorry," he whispered, stroking your hair gently as he kissed the top of your head. "I'll never let anyone or anything come between us. I don't care what it takes."

You looked up at him, brows furrowing in worry. "But Jaehyun-"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes. Of course I do."

"Do you love me?"

Yes, I love you. You said the words in your head, but you couldn't get them out. "I.. I.."

Jaehyun sensed your worry, moving his hands to your face, cupping you by both of your cheeks. "I need you to forget about everything that happened today. Forget about whatever she said to you. Just tell me one thing. Tell me if you love me."

"I do love you," you answered sniffling. "I love you Jaehyun."

He wished he could contain the feeling that swelled in his heart finally hearing you say those words but he couldn't, smirk plastered on his face as he wiped your tears with his thumbs softly. Even when you were crying, you were so pretty. He admired you in the silent room, the sound of people chatting and the string instruments being played outside filling the air.

You wrapped your arms around him, huffing his body tight. Jaehyun didn't mind that all the flour was getting on his clothes. He didn't care, as long as you were okay. But Jaehyun wasn't perfect even though he was a prince, he was only just a man.

As much as he hated seeing you sod and cry, there was a tiny voice in the back of his head going on and on about how pretty you were with tears down your face. Your shiny, wet eyes looking up at him wide, brows furrowed. You and Jaehyun had been close before hugging each other or kissing each other when you got the chance, but you've never been close. Jaehyun thought about it all the time, the thought of you pressed against him, hands molding your skin like dough and touching you anyway he wanted. not just telling how much he loves you but showing you.

He was so deep in thought that he never realized that you were staring up at him. "What are you thinking about," you asked softly.

"Just you. Only you." Before you could respond, he leaned down cupping your face as he kissed you deeply. You didn't expect it, stumbling against the wall a bit. Your back was pressed against the wall as Jaehyun pressed his body against yours, lips never leaving yours as he kissed you over and over again. You and Jaehyun have kissed many times, but nothing like this. When he kissed you before, it was sweet and innocent, but this time it's hot and desperate. You've never seen him act this way,

"Jaehyun wait," you painted softly, pulling away from the kiss. Your words went right through him, lips going right to your neck when you pulled away. You grasped his clothed arms being completely taken back by how fast everything was moving.

"I love you Y/N," he said against your neck. "I love you to the moon and back. Just let me show you how much I love you." Jaehyun locked lips with yours once again, almost knocking the air out of your lungs as his hands slid onto your back, undoing the tie that held your apron on your waist.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you held him close, lips molding with his slowly as he let the fabric drop. Jaehyun's hands moved up your body slowly, cupping your chest through the top of your dress. This sensation was new to you, his touch barely there but you could still feel his fingertips pressing against your nipples. Your hands fell slowly from his shoulders onto his chest, wanting to just take off his jacket, but you were so nervous.

"Don't be nervous, okay," he whispered, taking your hands in his. You hadn't realized it yet, but you were shaking. You opened your eyes only to see him looking at you with the purest expression. "Let me take care of you."

He let go of your hands, placing them on your chest as his fingers toyed with the buttons on the front. You watch him, buttons coming undone one by one in what felt like forever. In this day and age, there are so many layers of clothing before you can see someone's skin. Jaehyun usually becomes irritated with these circumstances, but for some reason they were all the more exciting for him. You on the other hand just wanted to get it over with, anxiety taking over your mind as your thoughts jump from one thing to another.

Jaehyun pulled the sleeves off your shoulders, helping you remove your arms out of the grasp of the fabric. Your dress finally fell from your body. Jaehyun gazed at your figure, you being in nothing but a slip and corset. You were beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman he ever laid his eyes on. "You're so perfect," he sighed, a small smirk on his face.

"Please Jaehyun," you whined quietly. Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in, kissing you softly. Jaehyun made quick work of his coat, taking it off and throwing it in the chair next to the fireplace. Next went his waistcoat, lips now moving against yours feverishly. He pulled away for just a second to look at you, but smiled to himself as he watched you fumble with your corset.

"Do you want me to help you with that," he muttered.

You gave him a silent nod as you turned around. Jaehyun skillfully helped you, chuckling to himself. "What's so funny," you asked.

"I just love you so much. That's all," he answered. "I never thought I'd get this close to you."

You smiled to yourself, nodding at his words. "You're so sentimental, it's endearing."

A soft deep chuckle erupted from him, making you shiver. He loosens up the strings and helped you out of the constraining under garment. "I hope I'm still endearing when my cock is inside you." Jaehyun could tell how flustered he made you when he turned you around. You couldn't contain your emotions, palms clinging to your slip as you stared at your feet. "Don't get shy on me now. I want you to watch me. Can you do that?"

You looked up, watching him unbutton his shirt. You have always tried to be the best maid possible, but that never stopped you from having fantasies about him. You always thought about what he would look like under his shirt, or what he would look like on top of you. Now that it's about to happen, there are too many emotions flowing through you at once. One of them was excitement, his chiseled toned body against the dim light of his office, the way he looked at you as he let the shirt off his arms and onto the floor behind him.

"You must really want me don't you?" He took your waist, holding you tight. Jaehyun felt better than he did all day hearing pleasured sighs leave your lips, brows knitting at the feeling of his strong grasp.

"Do you know how pretty you look right now? How pretty you sound when you gasp like that?" Jaehyun began hiking your slip up, watching you gulp, the dress getting shorter and shorter below you. "I will never let anyone take you from me. You're mine, all mine."

"All yours," you whispered, nodding as his fingers trailed from your stomach to right above your soaking wet core. "Please touch me."

Jaehyun obliged, teasing you as his fingers ghosted right above your clit, softly gliding them in the sensitive bud. He watched you, eyes glossed in pleasure as your body twitches, haven't felt this feeling in a while. "So pretty," he whispered, rubbing the bud slowly. "Every part of you."

Soft sweet moans filled his ears as he touched you, gulping as you held onto his arms. Your eyes shut, taking in the pleasure he was giving you.

"Does it feel good?"

"Y-yes," you moaned quietly.

"Look at me my love." Jaehyun's cock jumped in his pants when you did as he asked. You even follow directions perfectly, it's unbelievable. He maintained eye contact with you as he began to rub you faster, evoking whines from your throat. Your nails dug into his skin, not hard enough to scratch it though.

"Jaehyun," you whimpered softly. "M-more, please."

Jaehyun nodded fast, heart growing tender at your cute pleading. He moved from your clit to your wet entrance, fingers rubbing and tracing the hole. Jaehyun slowly pushed his fingers into you, the long thick digits giving you the stretch that you needed. You threw your head back slightly, resting it on the door as you moaned.

"Oh God.." You were already squeezing around his fingers before he started moving them. But you had to hold out, this could be the first and last time you got to do this with him.

"I love you so much," he muttered against your neck as he started pumping his fingers in you slowly. The noises coming from you were astonishing, the slow sounds of your wet cunt bouncing off the walls. Your expression and moans made his cock rock hard, all he wanted to do is make you cum.

You leaned in, kissing him deeply as he moved his fingers in you. "Feels so good," you whispered against his lips. You closed your eyes, lips still ghosting above his as you pant into his mouth.

He sped up his hand, fingers digging deeper into you as he thrusted them fast. The friction of his fingers set your body on fire, hands gripping his arms hard. "You're so beautiful like this, melting into my hands. Do you know how much I've thought about this moment?"

You could barely hear him though he was right in front of you, brain not being able to concentrate due to the feeling between your legs. Your soft whines and moans filled the air, quiet cries of his name falling from your lips. Jaehyun pressed you against the door even more using his other hand to lift your leg to thrust his fingers deeper in you.

"Oh my god," you whimpered, clinging to his body.

"I know, darling. I know it feels good," he cooed in your ear. "I want you to make a mess of my fingers."

You were now grinding on his hand, clit lightly brushing against his palm driving you to your orgasm with every movement of your hips. Your whines were getting louder in pitch, but you tried to hide it, being right behind the door. Anyone could walk past and hear you, and you really didn't want that to happen, but Jaehyun didn't care anymore. He didn't care about anything but you at the moment.

"Lose yourself. It's just me and you and no one else. Cum in my hand." His deep raspy voice guided you to your first orgasm in a while, squeezing around his fingers tight as you moaned into his neck.

"J-jaehyun," you whimpered. He kept pumping his fingers in you as you came, making the leg you were balancing yourself on shake. Growing impatient, Jaehyun stopped fingering you, slowing down his fingers and pulling them out of you slowly.

"I need to be inside you, Y/N. Do you want that," he questioned, resting his forehead on yours.

"Yes. Yes, I need you," you said breathlessly. You kissed him, cupping his face as he kissed you back. The two of you quickly fell into a rhythm, tongues dancing with each other as he undid his pants, fingers skillfully undoing the buttons.

"Let's get this off of you, hm?" Jaehyun lifted your slip, motioning his head for you to put your arms up. You obliged, easing them above your head allowing him to take the undergarment off of you. You kicked off your shoes right after making him smile to himself. Jaehyun couldn't keep his eyes off your body. He dropped the fabric to the floor, hands attaching to your body like a magnet. You let out soft gasps at every touch, squeeze, pinch he gave you, his hands all over you for the first time. Your skin was so soft, every scratch or scar lighting a flame in him. Even your imperfections were beautiful.

"You feel so good in my hands," he muttered, making you smile to yourself.

"I like the way your hands feel on me," you say, kissing him softly. You let out a small sigh as he moved his hands from your ass to your chest, watching as he leans down, mouth attaching to your nipple. Licking and sucking your nipples all while squeezing the flesh in his plans, maintaining eye contact with you as he plays out the sinful actions you dreamt of.

"God I can't wait any longer," he mumbled. Jaehyun kissed up your chest to your neck and jawline, finally making it to your lips, biting your bottom lip softly. "I need you to take all of me, but you have to be quiet."

He placed one hand on the bottom of your back and used the other to lift your leg. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply as he took his cock, rubbing the tip between your legs slowly.

"I can be quiet," you muttered in his mouth. "Quiet as a mouse."

"That's my girl." Jaehyun lined himself with you, slowly pushing himself in your wet entrance. A soft sigh fell through his lips, the warmth of your wrapped around him. He wanted this for so long to feel close to you, to be this close to you.

"My god," you whined, fingers running through his hair. You let out soft moans every time he thrusted in you, deep and slow. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head back against the door taking in the pleasure he was going to you. But Jaehyun kept his eyes open, staring at your pretty face, listening to your pretty moans as he rocked his body into you. His grip on his leg gets tighter the deeper he thrust into you, fingertips digging into your skin.

Jaehyun wouldn't be surprised if there were people running around looking for him right about now. He's been in this room with you for almost an hour, leaving his new wife to look for you. Not even he himself would've guessed he'd be deep inside you right now, fucking you on the door where anyone could come buy and easily tell what was happening behind it. He'd always been reckless, but at this rate he didn't care. Everyone in the world was trying to keep you away from him, and he had enough. If you had to crash and burn for loving him, you were going to take him with you whether you wanted to or not.

Jaehyun's face was now in the crook of your neck, groaning softly against your skin as he kissed it softly. "You're so beautiful," he mumbled. "So perfect, I love you so much."

"I-I love you," you whimpered softly, brows furrowing feeling him thrust harder. "Oh my god, don't stop."

And he didn't. He kept going, hand leaving your back and moving to your hip. You haven't felt this good in ages, almost completely forgetting about the kind of situation you were in, until there was a knock on the door.

"Prince Jaehyun? Are you in there," a guard called out. More voices were heard from outside the door, footsteps all over the hallway.

Jaehyun halted his movement for a second, glancing at you who was making a panicked expression. "Quiet," he mouthed. Jaehyun started thrusting in you, staring at you intensely. He was lost in the sight of you, your head falling back, jaw dropping in pleasure once again. You felt so fragile at the moment, so vulnerable under him.

"You're doing so well for me, beautiful," he whispered.

"Am I," you whispered with a small smile.

Jaehyun nodded as he kissed you. You immediately moaned into his mouth, making him go faster. At this point you were far too gone, you were going to cum all over him once again. "I'm so close, my prince," you moaned breathlessly.

My prince. Those words sounded so good coming from you. So pure, innocent, loving. He would love to be yours forever. "Me too Y/N."

He kept going, ignoring the knock on the door once again. He just wanted to make you feel good. Jaehyun swallowed hard, face back in the crook of your neck feeling you flutter around him.

"Jaehyun, I'm cumming," you whimpered, trying to keep your voice as low as possible. You came on him, orgasm so hard you saw stars as you screwed your eyes shut.

But Jaehyun kept going, his orgasm getting closer and closer. He should pull out of you. He should really pull out. But self control is not his strong suit. The both of you are so wrapped up in the amazing feeling that when Jaehyun cums inside of you, you didn't even feel it. All lines become blurry, nothing makes sense, the room is just hot and stuffy filled with the smell of sex.

That's when it hits you.

"Jaehyun, what did you just do?"

[666writingcafe]

Conspiracy

Simeon

This is wrong. How is any of this deemed acceptable?

Ever since my and Luke's return to the Celestial Realm following the announcement of an indefinite postponement of the opening ceremony for Diavolo's school, these thoughts have been constant in my head.

You see, Father feels like the brothers haven't been punished sufficiently enough for defying Him. It's not enough for them to merely be cast down to the Devildom. In His eyes, they don't deserve the opportunity to live a happy life down there. He'd much prefer to personally torture them for the next millennia or so before casting their souls down in Cocytus for all of eternity.

So, He gave Michael permission to do whatever it takes to get the brothers back up here. Michael decided that the easiest way to convince them to leave the Devildom would be by telling them that we're willing to pardon them for their digressions. And since Michael's presence down there would make the brothers highly suspicious, he's planning on taking on the form of Raphael during his trip. After all, most of the brothers are scared of Raphael, so they'd do anything to avoid his wrath.

And guess whose responsibility is it to make sure that Michael's impression of Raphael is pretty much perfect?

Fucking Raphael. How dare he put this on my plate?

I've been disgusted with myself this entire time. Father is literally having us break one of His commandments for what? Petty revenge? What happened to "love thy neighbor"? Did Lucifer wound His pride so severely that He's forgotten how to act?

And the worst thing about all this is that I am powerless to stop it. As it is, if anyone found out I was questioning His will, I might as well be joining the brothers in Cocytus. I'm already on thin ice as it is due to me keeping vital information about the brothers from Him before and during the war.

And somebody has to take care of Luke. I don't trust the others to keep him from harm's way. They'd exploit his innocence for their own selfish needs, and I won't allow that to happen.

So I've kept my objections to myself. Through Michael's training, through my return to the Devildom to deliver the message to Diavolo about "Raphael's" arrival, and through this stupid meeting in the prince's home office. In His eyes, I'm behaving like the perfect angel, blindly doing what I'm told.

And then I made the mistake of making eye contact with Zephyr. It's only momentary, and yet time seems to slow down to a crawl.

I can't have them disappointed in me. We didn't talk a whole lot during my initial visit, but I know that they have a strong moral compass. They'd reject me if they found out that I kept this from them.

Before I can question my emotions too much, the meeting ends, and the six of us--Michael, Lucifer, Diavolo, Barbatos, Zephyr, and myself--walk out of the office and make our way down the hallway. Zephyr and I trail behind the others.

I have to move quickly. Before I change my mind and before anyone notices.

There's a nearby door that's slightly ajar. Perfect.

I quickly grab Zephyr and drag them inside the room, making sure to reposition the door back to where it was as to not cause suspicion. The second they make noise, I cover their mouth with my hand. Their eyes widen as I begin listening for returning footsteps.

Thankfully, no one comes to investigate.

"Will you remain quiet if I remove my hand?" I whisper urgently. Zephyr nods their head. Sure enough, they don't begin screaming for help when I let go.

"Good sheep," I murmur, mentally smacking myself when I fully register what left my mouth. Zephyr remains silent. This room is rather small. Did I shove the two of us in a closet?

Oh, this isn't good. I can already feel myself begin heating up, and I'm pretty sure it's not just due to the cramped space we're in.

"Listen carefully, because I'm only going to be able to say this once," I quietly tell them. Another nod. "It's a trap. They're not getting pardoned. You have to do everything in your power to convince them to stay here." Zephyr tilts their head and looks contemplatively at me. Are they questioning my intentions?

A moment later, they softly smile at me.

"Don't doubt yourself," they whisper softly. "You're doing the right thing." They gently push the door open again, allowing me to leave the room first.

I needed to hear that.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @interconnectedmatrix

[theroguequeen]

Imagine being born as the daughter of the king and the only child. Growing up with a beautiful and strong dragon at your side, feeling so free when you are on her back and in the sky, a feeling of power and freedom rushing through your veins while deep down you know that you have a flaw and it's obvious to all the people around, especially to your dad and is not something you did wrong but it's the simple fact that you where born a girl. Imagine that from early on you have to deal with the feeling of not being enough the way you are. Imagine hearing the people whispering behind your back and not only that imagine realizing that your own father has only one big wish and that's getting a male heir.

Imagine seeing your mother being always in her chambers because she is pregnant once again because there's still no heir for the throne, even so you are right there, willing to learn, willing to show your potential. Imagine seeing your mother slowly becoming a ghost while her words are always in your head "childbirth is the battlefield of a women" and knowing that someday this will come true for you. Imagine seeing your father getting excited because this time his wish will come true, this time it will be a boy, a heir for the iron throne. Imagine always seeing the throne, seeing your father on it and laying in bed at night, thinking about that if things where differently, if you just where born a man that you could sit that throne. Imagine still trying to find some joy in the thought of having a little brother and picking a dragon egg for his cradle while your father is making preparations for a tournament, a big ceremony, because this time, as he is telling everybody, your mother is gonna gift him a son. Imagine being right there and hearing the excitement in his voice, while you are still right there, growing, thriving and trying to make peace with the fact that you will not become queen, that the throne might never be yours even so you deep down feel that you could become a good queen, that you are just as good as a boy.

Imagine trying to find some peace on the back of your dragon and in the friendship with the one girl you feel kind of secure with, that actually hears what you say. Imagine seeing your uncle coming home for the tournament, gifting you a necklace, build from valyrian steel, a very thoughtful gift only for you and thinking to yourself that you both in a way share the feeling of being overlooked by your father.

Imagine sitting at the tournament and suddenly you see your father and his hand leaving to look after your mother. Imagine knowing deep down that there must be something wrong but you try to push it away. Imagine then getting told that your mother has died and not only that she died trying to give your father what he so deeply wished for: a son. A heir. Imagine the pain of losing your mother and your little brother but not having time to even realize what has happened but to have to act strong while you have to say the words that will lead to your dragon burning what is left of your mother. Imagine doing it anyway and the only one who really sees you struggling is your uncle and maybe your best friend. Imagine later having to hear that your uncle not only made a mean joke about the death of your brother but having the nerve to steal the egg you handpicked for your brother while your father is not only in pain and angry but seems not really to know what to do about it. Imagine standing up and saying that you think that you can manage that, together with your dragon but only hearing some laughter about your suggestion. Imagine doing it anyway and being successful.

Imagine your father finally realizing what's right in front of him: you. Imagine him now promising to you that he will put you on the iron throne, that now he wants you as his heir. Imagine seeing all the lords and lady's bending the knee for you, promising to be loyal to you, that they will accept your father's decision and that the crown will be yours some day while knowing that not all of them are happy with the decision. Imagine telling yourself that once you will become queen you will prove them all wrong and show them that a women can rule just as good as a man on the iron throne. Imagine feeling like you can breathe again just to be informed out of nowhere that the girl you thought was your best friend will become the new wife of your father. Imagine the feeling betrayal and confusion and anger and having no one to talk about it because your uncle is far away and there's no one else you really trust. Imagine your best friend not only really marrys your father but does something so easily that your mother has died for: the birth of a son. Imagine your father still promising you that he will keep the promise he made, that you still are the rightful heir to the throne and that that will not change because of it.

Imagine feeling isolated and lonley all the time while slowly being in a state between being a girl and becoming a women with no one to talk about the change you experience. Imagine trying to deal with all your feelings, the old and the new ones knowing that your father's wants you to marry. Imagine hearing you need to marry even if you don't want to, because you are a women and you need a husband. Imagine reluctantly accepting your fade and finding someone even so you still hope there might be a way around it. Imagine your uncle coming back, standing right in front of you and there suddenly is this feeling inside of you, some kind of hunger, a flame becoming a burning inferno when he takes you outside the castle for the first time after he told you that once you will fulfill the duty of marriage there will be a different kind of freedom for you. Imagine that flame becoming a explosion once he kisses you for the first time and suddenly feeling so alive, so hungry and full of desire needing more of that feeling, more of him. Imagine he then suddenly turns away from you, making you feel like he is rejecting you and leaving you once again, not knowing that the next day he asks your father for your hand, that he wants you the same way you want him.

Imagine not only your father being mad at you but your former best friend and now stepmother to shame you for what you did with your uncle. Imagine once again being alone with the chaos in your mind that is now even louder as your uncle is once again gone and now you commit to marry your cousin, because maybe it's true and you will have some kind of peace once you are married. Imagine on the party of your wedding you dare your uncle that surprisingly showed up one last time to take you away, the chemistry being the same while you still are so hurt and full of anger. But instead there is a big fight and your father collapses and so you and your cousin and friend quietly marry and what makes it a little bit easier is that you know that he although deep down wants something else or to be more precise someone else.

Imagine the years passing by and the only time you feel some kind of happiness is when you have some stolen hours with a man that becomes the father of your children while you know that this will never be a real thing but at least it's something and you are mastering the battlefield of childbirth and now you have some beautiful boys that make your life a little brighter even so your stepmother is doing everything she can to make your life a living hell even forcing you right out of bed minutes after giving birth. Imagine getting up anyway holding your head up high, not giving her the satisfaction of seeing you struggle. Imagine knowing that your father really does not care and accepts your children, even so the people are whispering behind your back once again. Imagine hearing about the news that the father of your children is dead and that you are once again alone because the man you married even so he is a friend always is somewhere else all while you still think about your uncle everyday while he is married to another women, the sister of your husband and you feel so empty and lonley but at least you have your boys.

Imagine getting the news that the sister of your husband has died in childbirth the same way your mother did and you have to attend the funeral while your stepmother is trying to bring your father to announce one of your brothers as the heir to the throne. Imagine finally seeing your uncle again, right in front of you and your feeling being as deep as they always where but not being sure that if he has missed you as deeply as you missed him. Imagine finally having a moment with him, getting everything of your chest and realizing that not only he did not forget you, he was haunted by you in the same way you were by him. Imagine finally being close to him again, finally feeling his skin under your fingers and hearing his words spoken in the language you haven't heard in so long. Imagine coming back from that little escape you so desperately needed, that brought you closer to your true self again and being confronted with your boys being questioned as there was a fight between your children and your siblings were one has lost an eye.

Imagine going into full protection mood now the facade of your stepmother is crumbling right in front of your father and you finally can say the words you wanted to say for so long:"now they see you as you are". And your father is standing up for you and your children and it's your first win in a long time. Imagine you know that you have to act now, that there are things that need to be done and that you want the man you love and need at your side, your twin flame. Imagine both of you having a plan and even if it has to be build on a lie it works so you and your uncle are finally free to marry in the tradition of your house and there is finally a real change that everything will turn out the way you always wished they would. Imagine for some time you experience happiness and comfort and love and slowly see your kids growing up just to get thes message that your father's health got worse so you rush to see him.

Imagine realizing that he is about to die while he is getting on the throne one more time for you and for your children, showing his deep love for you and making clear that he still wants you to be the one that becomes queen after him. Imagine having a dinner together with the whole family and your father and even so there is a little trouble it feels like things are more clear now and there might be a peaceful way for you all even if it's not gonna be easy. Imagine being home again thinking you would get a message if there something happened with your father while you are awaiting another child with the man you love. Imagine then getting a message but not in the way you thought it would come and your whole world starts breaking apart once again and because of the stress you get into labor, unable to do something against it while your husband is already going into war mode. Imagine realizing that something is wrong while being in labor but pushing through it while the words of your mother are once again in your head and all the grief and pain brings you down to your knees.

Imagine realizing that your baby, your daughter you already picked out a name and a dragon egg for as you did with all of your children is dead, the same day your father has died and your crown, your right, was taken away from you. Imagine once again you have to attend a funeral this time for your sweet little girl while you are unable to process what happened in the last few hours. Imagine one knight of your old fathers kings guard showing up, handing over your crown to your husband and even if you were scared for one little moment he goes down on his knees and puts the crown on your head and the people around you are bending the knee as your husband says: All hail queen rhaenyra of house targaryen, fist of her name, queen of the andals, the rhoynar and the first men, lady of the seven kingdoms and protector of the relam.

Imagine you a little later having a meeting with the traitor who once was your father's hand and the one who put your brother on the iron throne who is now trying to manipulate you with the memory of the friendship you once had with his daughter and now stepmother but you manage to stay calm and hold back your husband because one part of you still wants to believe there could be a chance to stop the war.

Imagine letting your beloved boys get on their dragons to send a message to your allies, just the way you wanted to do it a long time ago for your father and you even pick out the shorter one for your younger son so he will be back sooner because you think that it will be safer for him his was. Imagine speaking to him before he leaves once again realizing what a intelligent and sensitive child he is. Imagine waiting to hear from him while at the same time you now have to plan your next steps and needing to get to a agreement with your husband about what needs to be done. Imagine feeling the crown on your head reminding you with every step of what was stolen from you while you try to act thoughtful. Imagine taking a deep breath as your husband is coming towards you while and taking your hand not really hearing his words at first as he has to deliver the news that one of your sons, the one whose saftey you thought you had to be least worried about is not only not back from his journey but dead. Killed by your stepbrother. Your boy. Your child. Your sweet baby boy. After everything you already had lost and to endure and taken away from you.

And now imagine that People are saying that you are not only not the rightful heir tot he iron thorne but that ist all your fault and that you deserve to suffer and never should have been named as heir by your father in the first place. Imagine people still saying that your anger and pain is well deserved.

[joons]

This may be a prickly subject, and I'm sorry if so. But I'm trying to learn more about Elvis, and every time I bring him up to people I know, they try to tell me he was this terrible person, and point me toward Priscilla's book, the movie made on it, and the discourse. Idk if you've talked about it on here (I tried searching your blog but couldn't find anything on it). If you're willing, I'd love to hear your take on it so I can see a more nuanced view.

The film Priscilla was greenlit roughly a month after Priscilla herself was informed that she was close to becoming financially insolvent in 2022. With a business partner, Brigitte Kruse, who allegedly helped broker the film deal, she established a limited liability company called Priscilla Presley Partners that was supposed to use her image and likeness to create several lines of merchandise to coincide with the film's release. That business partner is now suing Priscilla because she did not have the rights to her image or likeness, or any ability to use the Presley name, because she had already sold all of those rights and was no longer considered in good standing with Graceland or Elvis Presley Enterprises. The entire business deal, then, according to the lawsuit, was built on her misrepresentation of how much her image was worth.

The deal between the two of them fell apart after Riley Keough, Lisa Marie's daughter and Priscilla's granddaughter, settled with Priscilla to give her a lump sum of $1 million from Lisa Marie's estate and yearly amounts of $100,000. Priscilla sued very shortly after Lisa Marie's death because she thought Lisa Marie's signature on a will had been forged because Priscilla was not included in it. All of the assets were supposed to go directly to Lisa Marie's son, Benjamin Keough, who died in 2020, and her three daughters, two of whom are still teenagers. Now, part of those assets have been claimed by Priscilla and her other son, Navarone, who has no connection to the Presley family and has stated he is glad Lisa died.

Four months before Lisa's death, Lisa wrote to Sofia Coppola and made it clear she had strong concerns about the Priscilla film and was suspicious of the intentions behind it:

"As his daughter, I don’t read this and see any of my father in this character. I don’t read this and see my mother’s perspective of my father. ... I will be forced to be in a position where I will have to openly say how I feel about the film and go against you, my mother and this film publicly."

Lisa was enormously grateful for efforts put into 2022's Elvis to find her father's soul and to restore his dignity in a world that often turns him and his family into a joke:

"You can feel and witness Baz’s pure love, care, and respect for my father throughout this beautiful film, and it is finally something that myself and my children and their children can be proud of forever."

It is such a strong and powerful statement, to see how much Lisa valued family, not just her father but her own children and their legacy, and how willing she was to speak up no matter what was going on in her personal life to say what was right. On this and many other things, Lisa and Priscilla's values have rarely been in alignment. A friend and EPE business associate, Joel Weinshanker, said of her, "Lisa couldn't be bought, she couldn't be pushed. If she felt that something wasn't in Elvis' best interest, it was never about money. And she really is the only Presley that you could say that about."

Priscilla, though, has adjusted her stories about her time with Elvis almost every time she discusses it. For a quick example, she said in her book, which was released in 1985, that Elvis insisted she do her hair and makeup a certain way, that he had control over her look and would get upset if she didn't dress how he wanted. But in an interview with Ladies' Home Journal in 1973, she said that she made a deliberate choice to attend makeup school so that she could learn how to style herself, and that it was her idea to wear big, black hair and big, black eyeliner. She said she was embarrassed for going overboard. She said, "I wish that Elvis had said something, but he must have liked it because he never commented." This lines up with recollections from Patti Parry, a platonic friend of Elvis' and a hairstylist, who said Priscilla always wanted Patti to do her hair in a "big boombah," but that Priscilla would then get upset when Elvis didn't notice or didn't like it.

These changes are impossible not to notice if you follow her for any length of time. At the film premiere, she said it felt just like watching her life and said she was consulted on everything, since she was an executive producer. After the film came out, she said she couldn't understand why Coppola had changed so much about the story and misrepresented events. In the '70s, she said she and Elvis lived almost totally separate lives, that she came and went as she pleased, and that she loved this freedom. Later, she said she felt completely stifled and trapped and never left the house, even though she had friends she went out with all the time. In 2019, she tweeted a forceful denial about a National Enquirer story: "This is the Enquirer folks... please don't believe everything you read. ... Never planned on being buried next to Elvis. What will they come up with next?" But part of her settlement demands in her lawsuit against Riley in 2023 asked "to be buried next to Elvis." This year, she said in two separate interviews that Lisa was with her when Elvis died and that Priscilla had to break the news to her, despite the fact that Lisa was at Graceland when it happened. She has said she gave Elvis the idea to wear belts on his jumpsuits, to have a lightning bolt as his logo, to sing "An American Trilogy," though none of that is true. She retells the story about forcing Elvis to burn all of his spiritual books to prove he loved her as an almost funny anecdote about debrainwashing him, while Elvis later said it was the worst thing he ever agreed to, a desperate attempt to make her happy by giving up the things he valued the most. (For the record, this is my opinion about their relationship on both sides: thinking they could change themselves and each other to make it work. It never did.)

Every secondhand Elvis account has to be treated lightly and only valued for its consistency with known facts and other witnesses. I try to give enormous benefit of the doubt to anyone in the Elvis world because they often only have partial knowledge of what Elvis may have been thinking at any given time, and there are numerous examples of people who were taken advantage of by unscrupulous journalists who changed the story they wanted to tell. But Priscilla's stories sometimes are not even consistent with her own statements, which makes them very poor options indeed to base anything on. However careful we are about noting potential biases and inaccuracies in other memoirs, we have to be triply, quadruply careful with anything in which Priscilla involves herself because she has a vested interest in generating discourse today in order to make money. Unfortunately, Priscilla has a habit of stifling other accounts or making sensationalized statements each time there is a possibility that she will lose some of the cachet that comes with being an Elvis Source—after Elvis' death, when she believed she was going to inherit his airplane and disinvited everyone that Vernon said could fly in it to his funeral; when she sued the parents of one of Elvis' ex-girlfriends after he died because he had allowed them to live rent-free in a house he bought for them; when she claimed that Elvis wanted to reunite with her before his death, despite the fact that he was engaged to someone else and told many people he couldn't see a reunion ever happening with her; before Vernon's death, when she convinced him to make her an executor of the Presley estate until Lisa came of age; after Lisa came of age, when she convinced Lisa to let her stay on as partner; when Lisa accused Priscilla of misspending Lisa's money, during which time anonymous sources cropped up to say Lisa was in debt and drug-addled; when Priscilla was removed from her position as an EPE spokesperson but kept collecting $900,000 a year from the company; when Lisa died, and Priscilla sued once she learned she wasn't in the will; when Priscilla was no longer associated with EPE and decided to do another adaptation of a book that she has since recanted parts of and has contradicted before and after its release.

When Priscilla thinks there is a threat to her image and position, she does new interviews and projects to muddy the waters and stir public interest, whether it is true or false, positive or negative, laudatory or defamatory. She gets corrected by Elvis' surviving family members, girlfriends, friends, and fans, but these stories do not get the same reach no matter how much they are backed by contemporaneous documents and witnesses, or how many resources there are to educate the public on how Elvis' and Priscilla's attitudes about marriage and relationships changed—along with the rest of society—between 1960 and 1970.

I think almost any single-source project is not going to advance our understanding of Elvis in any way because no one individual can speak for him, and we are kind of obligated to include all the context we can in order to appreciate his character, his successes and failures, flaws and virtues—and to treat both himself and those around him as fully three-dimensional people who have their own blind spots. Priscilla is far too aware of her own image, and far too willing to change it to suit the audience, to be particularly valuable here.

She is next scheduled to appear at the Lexington (Kentucky) Comic & Toy Con.

[softsoule]

Wide Awake

Cast: You & Jeong Gu-Won

Inspiration: Wide Awake by Katy Perry & Power by Isak Danielson

Trigger Warnings: Self Harm and Slight Religious Remarks

Scene Context: Your standing on a rooftop peering over a ledge.

Demon. An evil spirit or devil, especially one thought to possess a person or act as a tormentor in hell. 

Unfortunately for me, I met my own personal tormentor, and in the end I'll surely pay the price.

The one who poisoned my faith and led me to stray from God. 

Jeong Gu-Won. The man who cursed me for eternity. The man who corrupted my soul. The one I would run to at every beck and call.

During his first few appearances at the Covenant, I remained strong, my faith unbreakable. Whenever I would feel his presence, I would pray to my father for strength and to rid us of this evil.

Unfortunately, my prayers went unanswered, and my faith started to falter. The more he appeared, the more curious I became. He was a shadow at first, just a dark silhouette of a man. 

Until one day, he appeared before me in all his glory. His beauty is breathtaking and alluring. The church warns you about temptation but never tells you how to fight it when it's standing right in front of you. 

His beauty further ignited my curiosity. What is his name? Where did he come from? Why did he choose me? Questions I so desperately wanted answers too.

As he continued to visit, the more confidence I built to speak to him. The moment I heard his sweet, suckle voice, I was enchanted. The way he held my gaze as he spoke so confidently caused me to feel unspeakable emotions. 

His presence became like a drug, and I craved more of it. I was willing to do anything to have my fix, and he knew it too. Once he had me hooked, he would visit less often; eventually, he would begin enticing me to commit sins in order to see him more.

Do you think I was willing? You bet your bottom dollar I was. 

As I look back, I wonder if it was my faithfulness that drew him or my naivety. Maybe it was a test of faith from our father, but how faithful could I have been if I willingly fell into the hands of one of his sworn enemies children?

But maybe he knew that when he saw me.

If only I was aware of the damage this forbidden relationship would cause. Maybe I wouldn't have been lured by his beauty or seduced by his sweet words. So many innocent lives taken, so much blood shed, so much torment inflicted on others.

As I stand on this ledge, I wonder if any of his sweet whispers and love confessions were real. You chuckle at the idea of it. Probably not, but you'll be okay with the idea of them possibly being true even if the chances were severely slim.

The wind kisses your skin, breaking your train of thought—another chilly fall night just like when you first met him. You grab the ledge and put one leg over after the other; you peer down and watch as the street starts to empty. Internally grateful, you'll like to traumatize as few people as possible; selfish, you know it.

Filled with determination, you close your eyes as you let go of the ledge, mentally bracing yourself for impact, but the impact never comes; instead, it's replaced by a hand holding yours to desperately keep you from slipping. You open your eyes to see your former lover, Jeong Gu-Won, heavily breathing, shocked by your drastic actions. He calls your name as if to beg you to stay, to think about what you are doing—emotions in his eyes you have never seen before.

Fear. The sight of you jumping shook his body to the core; in all his years, he never thought he could feel such a human emotion. Death was like a game to him; humans were like cheese pieces for him; he could kick them off the board one by one, but the moment he saw you leap over the edge, he knew he didn't want to play.

The raw emotion on his face makes your heart twinge, yet you refuse to falter; your decision has been made; your love has caused too much turmoil for you to continually live peacefully on this earth. Your dreams haunted with the faces of the innocent lives who were slain for your one-sided "love.".

You smile and let go of his hand; you hear him scream your name as you descend towards the concrete. The feeling of peace overfills you; your mind is no longer clouded with thoughts of Jeong Gu-Won, the screaming innocent, or the broken promises you made to your father.

You close your eyes and let the peaceful feeling consume you—a bright light entrapping you—before you know it, you're wide awake.

[mynameisjag]

The air was nice, a little crisp with the fall weather about to hit.

Usually Wade wouldn’t find himself enjoying the outdoors in a leisurely manner…and he wasn't, he fucking hated it at the moment.

“This sucks!”

Beside him, walking the path at slow pace was Laura, who just raised an eyebrow at him, copycat version of her dad's smirk on her face.

“You've walked longer through rougher terrain,” her eyes flicked to the two bodies ahead of them, her smirk growing into a wide grin, “wonder what you're really upset about.”

“Oh, you know, my secret hatred of birds is showing through-of course its not the walk and don’t you start.”

He wasn’t used to being out and about without his suit, and the giant sun hat he was sporting didn’t really help keep the sun off his more sensitive skin.

But he was doing this for Vanessa.

Vanessa’s boyfriend was…descent…and she wanted them all to get along, they all were close in one way or another and of course she would want the ones she cared about the most to be comfortable with one another.

So…bonding hike…

Which Logan, the feral fuck, actually seemed to be enjoying but that probably was less the family time and more that he was away from large groups of people.

There was a bet if the man was just going to go and take off at the first sight of a deer, which might work out in Wade’s favor if it scared ‘boyfriend’ off.

Listen, he is willing to give the guy a chance, he is a nice guy…but did he really have to click with Logan so fast?

“Pops doesn’t really care that much for him, you know that right? The guy is important to Vanessa, Vanessa is important to you and you are important to him.”

“Fucking, yeah, I know little Miss Voice of Reason, but look at them, walking and talking like friends.”

“The dude is talking, Pops is probably thinking about disappearing into the woods for a week before you hunt him down and bring him home.”

“Like it would take a week for me to find him, we’re connected Baby-wolvs,” he made a heart sign with both of his hands, “the power of saving the universe and Madonna will forever bond us.”

She just rolled her eyes, “Since your so connected, then why are you so jealous?”

“Jealous!? Me!?,” his hands fell dramatically to his sides as he threw his head back in distress, “Okay, I admit it, I’m jealous of the way those jeans make his ass-“

“-Do NOT finish that.”

“I’m still going to think it…hmm…thinking about it hard now.”, he preceded to make grabby hands at the other man’s backside, “going to make the mouse send me a cease and desist with the way my thoughts be going.”

“I hate you.”

Wade just grinned wide at her snarly face, sooo cute, just like her daddy! Speaking of the man, the two ahead of them had stopped and were waiting.

They weren’t too far behind, so it only took a few moments to catch up, Deadpool throwing his arms around the older man and going to swoon knowing he was going to be caught, “Oh, the sun, it makes me suffer, if only there was a strong burly man to slather me with lotion later!”

Laura sauntered up, pushing Wade off her father to cuddle his side, “Thanks for waiting.”

‘Boyfriend’ was helping the mercenary up, smiling and going on about nearly being close to the end of the trail.

Logan huffed and gave a quick side hug to his little girl, “Probably need to get there quick, I can smell rainfall heading our way.”

And then ‘Boyfriend’ was talking about how the weather was reported to be nothing but sunshine and Wade was rolling his eyes and adjusting his hat. He did not pack for rain and if Logan said rain was coming it was coming.

“There’s this lovely little picnic area ahead, we should bring a lunch with us next time! Say, do you any of you like sports, got a few work buddies that we watch the games with. We’d love to have the whole crew over. I can make a mean green bean casserole!”

Their phones went off, flash storms heading their way.

“Oh, thank the Marvel Jesus that is me, welp, looks like it’s time to head back!”, he was going to ignore the way the Wolverine duo were smirking at him as he enthusiastically turned around and started head back to the truck.

“Sorry, are trip is a bit of a bust, perhaps next time weather will be more predictable and Vanny can join us!”

“Sounds nice.”

“Sure.”

“I think jumping into a concrete mixer sounds better.”

And ‘the boyfriend’ was throwing an arm around Wade’s shoulders, “You really are such a funny guy, it’s so good to be able to bond like this!”

[pomeloandtv]

So how does it feel to sit in your new car?

It's cute, but ... I miss my old car, it was bigger, and much more powerful that this ....

But you crashed that car, if you want a car like that again you have to convince people you are a good enough driver for it

Wait .... it's an automatic?

Yes?

There is no gearstick or clutch, are there manual electronic gears?

No, no manual electronic gears, it's an automatic. do you remember how you did your new test in a rented automatic?

Yes

And you found that weird at the time?

Yes, but you said I couldn't ask about it

Well, see now your new license is specifically for automatics only, you can no longer drive stick

But the crash wasn't even my fault! You know that! You know I am a good driver, I've never caused any damage to any car ever!

Too bad. We both agreed that the old you, the strong, competent and capable you, had to go. That we needed a new you, one that emanated an aura of weak, ditsy helplessness. Did we not?

[small voice] ... um ... yes ... but ... I love driving ...

I know, but you've also found so much other things you love over the last few years, haven't you?

That's true

You are swapping some things you used to love for other new things you love. Just be glad I didn't convince the judge to ban you permanently

Oh my god, would you have?

Just imagine the loss of independence, needing other people to drive you around, always having to be extra nice to your friends because you would need them more than they need you, letting them decide where to go, and just being grateful that they are willing to take you, sitting around at home waiting for me to get back because you need me to take you somewhere ...

[eyes closed] ... oh god ... stop ... [eyes open] I'll be good! I love that it is an automatic!

Really?

Yes REEEAAAALLLY! Besides for the last year these heels made working with ALL THOSE ANNOYING PEDALS so difficult.

Great that you don't take them off for driving like I forbade. You are such a good girl

Thank you. .... um ....

Yes?

But, this means ... um ...

Yes?

I'm flying to visit my parents next week. Whenever I go back, I use their car, I borrow it if I need to, and I usually need to a lot ... but they have manual ... so ...

So you won't be doing that anymore, you'll have to ask them to drive you around if you need it. Wonderful, maybe you'll discover you like being driven around, maybe the feeling of sheepishly asking them for a lift will grow on you, feeling like you are less, maybe you will come back and beg me to have your license cancelled ...

No!

Ok, just joking, what were you saying

But what will I tell them, they know I drive manual?

Tell them you always hated stick, you found it confusing and stressful

But I know how to drive stick, its easy?

Well you certainly won't be telling anybody that anymore, make sure to tell them you're happier knowing you don't have to worry about manual gear shifting anymore

But my father thought me how to drive, he knows I love stick!

"Dick" sugarbutt, you love dick

Hee hee, I love dick, I do!

Besides, your parents are probably going to have a LOT more difficult questions for you about getting another boob job without telling them, even though they made you PROMISE you would never do major cosmetic surgery again without at the very least telling them

[downcast, small voice] ... ... oh yeah ... ... [even smaller voice] but you didn't let me tell them ...

Now, now dollface, we both know I can't make you do anything unless there is a part of you that wants it, right?

[small voice] ... yes ...

I didn't hear that?

yes ... [small voice] ... i know ...

Say the line

um ... your role isn't to make me do things I don't want to do ... your role is to make me do things I want to do but am too afraid to ...

OK, now don't worry, it's going to be awkward for you next week, but it will work out in the long run

[small voice] ... yes ...

I can't wait to hear about it. Anyway my advise is in future if your parents or anyone else want you to promise something again, you should outright and explicitly refuse if you aren't 100% sure it is something you can keep

[small voice] ... yes ... [normal voice] can I please tell them about my upcoming nose job?

We've been over this. Absolutely not. There is nothing wrong with your nose, its a good cute nose, it matches your adorable face perfectly, you will not be able to make them accept that

But ... then ... why am I getting it!

We've been over this too, and I understand the next time you see them, the time after this time, it will be very awkward for you, but we both agreed your face should look faker

[small voice] ... you agreed ...

Really? Say the word now and we will cancel the procedure

...

Well? I will cancel it right now, it's not a problem, it'll be easy

No! I want it! Please! I'll be good!

Why?

Because I think I'll look even cuter and faker with a paired down button nose.

Really?

Yes! I want to be plastic! Please, I really do! I want a fake bimbo nose! I'll be good! Please!

Ok, now its fun when we battle like this, but that was too far, and you know it

I know, I'm sorry, I'll be good. And I won't tell my parents about my nose job and I know I'll love it and I can't wait. I promise!

Good girl

Yes :)

And remember, you hate stick, you love dick

Hee hee, I hate stick, I love dick

And while I can't speak for everyone, in general dick loves those stupid looking melons you've had nailed to your chest

Hee hee, yeah I know! everyone's so nice, the guys in the gym are always looking. Dick loves these tits! And though I hate stick, I really love dick :D

Good girl, now lets take those honkers for a spin

Hee hee! yay! Wait, give me your empty bottle, I'll put them in the bin over there

Hmmm, no.

No?

Take my empty bottle and your empty bottle and throw them on the back seat or in one of the floorwells

What? I would never!

I've decided it would please me greatly if you are now one of those people with a messy car

No! But my car is always spotless. So is yours! You'd hate it too!

That's right, I would hate it. But I would find it hilarious if you were known as someone with a very messy car. I want your friends to argue behind your back about who has to go with you because no one wants to travel in the messy car. I want them to beg you to clean your car, but you will always refuse to care about the problem

I will! I will care!

Yes, I'm very pleased with this idea, your previous car was the old you and the spotlessness of the interior betrayed your old competence and diligence and adherence to what is expected of you. Your new car is the car of a very different woman. I'll bet you even grow to enjoy it

No! I'll hate it!

Here, that plastic bottle in your hand, face forward, don't look, and toss it behind you over your shoulder. There now didn't that feel fun?

No!

Ok, take my bottle, before you throw it, where would you like it to land? No objections, pick a place.

uhhh, behind the back seat on top of the boot.

Mmmm, not much to aim for even if you were looking, difficult throw, try it

.... Ohhhh, no, I thought ... almost

Wasn't that fun?

This isn't fair!

Ha ha ha

The first two of many. From now on I forbid you to take used, finished items from this car without my explicit permission. We'll see how bad it gets but maybe after 6 months I'll pay to have your car cleaned.

[laughing] No! I can't believe this is happening!

OK enough, pre-drive checks?

Yes, the mirrors are good actually!

No, I mean make-up

Hee hee, yes sir

Maybe I'll get you a custom car sun visor on your side, one that's all mirror, including a small section that does that real up close magnification.

Ha, you wouldn't?

Yes, actually I should get one for your side of my car too

Ha! No!

Ok, serious question, how often do you check your make-up before and after driving?

Sometimes before, sometimes after, some drives both, some drives neither.

Ok, from now on, unless you are blocking someone, you have to check before and after, and you also have to do a touch up.

Oh my God? Ok, but I think I look good ... but ...

... you look fantastic ...

... BUT! But if I MUST [side eye] then I will do my lipstick again

Good girl

[small voice] yes

Also buy an extra supply of whatever make-up utilities you would normally have, wipes, bases, I don't know, whatever your favorites are and keep a stash in your glove box

Hmmm, can I have the money?

Yes. And whenever I see the inside of that glove box it shouldn't be well-ordered. it should be a mess of random things at random angles all over the place. When you drive around a corner or over a bump I want to be able to hear them clattering

Hee hee Stop! Enough for today!

I'm really looking forward to there being discarded make-up paraphenalia in all the floorwells

No!

Admit it, you're going to love people seeing the inside of your car, and maybe they'll be too polite to say anything, but they'll be thinking, you live like this?

Oh God! Too much!

That was a lot for one day, but it is a new car day, always a big day.

True

Ok dummy, let's go

Yay! Hee, hee ... yay! dummy!