#third palace au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ericsprincess · 2 months

Text

until you overflow

nc-17, Na Jaemin/Reader, historical au, queen!yn, war prize!jaemin, mildly dubious consent, cunnilingus, penetration, breeding kink

~~~

You need an heir.

~~~

“I already SAID, I am NOT going to do this now,” you spoke through your gritted teeth, holding yourself back the best way you could to not smash your fist on the table out of anger. The atmosphere in the room was tense, and yet the scene was all too familiar for everyone.

"B-but you need an heiress! Your highness, the war is over so now we should focus on important internal affairs, one of which is ensuring the succession!" scuttered one of the ministers, a capable, but also an extremely annoying woman with a particular penchant for bureaucracy. One of those people who never knows when to stop, whether they mean well or not.

“The war is over and we should focus on repairing what it ruined first, don’t you think?” you replied sarcastically, but the minister as if she were deaf to your tone.

“But..what if something happens to you? We need to have the security of an heiress! The people need it, it will boost the morale of the entire nation too!”

And this was already going on for 20 minutes. For the third time just this week.

Thankfully, this useless exchange was interrupted when one of your highest advisors, an ancient noble lady, an advisor of your mother before she was yours, stepped out, essentially ending the bickering.

“Your highness, there is still the..new war prize. You surely know which one I mean,” the advisor bowed deep in front of you. “He seems very strong. He could give our queendom many heiresses. It would silence many mouths, not only about the ones talking about you, but also those that are raising concerns about his future and purpose. Please consider that.” she spoke and retreated back amongst the others.

Of course you knew which one she meant. Ever since the moment he was brought by your army, and as a part of war prize paraded around the capital to be finally thrown to kneel at your feet, he’s been the talk of the entire country. There were many captives brought in that day, but this one, as if he had put the spell on our entire country. All the men and women alike were marveling at his beauty, mouths hanging open with fingers pointing at that one, do you see that one? as the procession of soldiers and captives and carriages full of gold was passing through the capital city towards the Queen’s Palace. People soon started spreading eyewitness accounts and half-truths as well, even sharing made-up stories how he was so strong and raging that he almost fought off an entire squad of your soldiers before he was captured, how they had to bring him bound in thick iron chains and muzzled, a beautiful, but rabid beast.

Most of that was not true. As far as the generals’ report that was handed to you said, he was ambushed while he was quietly traveling on his horse alone on a forest path, and went willingly, with a smile. He just let himself get captured, even shooting a joke or two, greeting his captors goodnaturedly like old friends. However, under his plain clothes, your soldiers found out he was armed up to the teeth.

They tried to interrogate him, but even after hours, no one was able to figure out where he came from and where he was going. He spoke with an accent not native to the conquered kingdom, so he clearly wasn’t a local citizen, but refused to prove his ties to another country to avoid being taken as a war captive. Nothing about his clothes or things he had on him specified anything. He provided his name when asked, but it was a simple, plain name, very common in any country around, so no one even believed it’s real.

So they just followed the orders and just like any other captive, they brought him to the palace to have his fate decided there, and most court people half-expected you would have him publicly executed, as a statement and also just to simply get rid of the potential threat. They threw him at your feet, and he didn’t beg for his life as everyone expected he would. He raised his head from where he was kneeling, dirty with hands tied behind his back, but said nothing and only smiled at you, before dropping his head back down. The crowd gasped at the audacity of him daring to even lay his eyes on their Queen and immediately started whispering, everyone expecting you would immediately order your guards to have his head cut off, bloodthirsty atmosphere rising in the hall.

But you didn’t want to. You have learnt years ago, by necessity, to have no qualms or hesitation about ending an unworthy life, but something drawn you to him. You couldn’t tell what, but you didn’t want to kill him, at least not before he would give you an actual reason. You didn’t want to waste his life, just for the fleeting enjoyment of the masses. You wouldn’t have admitted it, not even to yourself at that time, but you were also intrigued.

You couldn’t decide and you ended up stalling, staring at the back of his head that was hung between his shoulders, with his forehead almost touching the cold marble of the throne room as he was slumped on his knees. The throne room was completely silent, everyone waited with bated breaths for the verdict.

Then a sharp pain in your rib woke you up from your stupor. You startled and looked at the source - your closest court lady, who was until now only standing at her usual place by your right hand, entirely bored, has just elbowed you to bring you back to earth.

She leaned over to you, covering her mouth as she whispered to your ear.

“Keep this one. We will put him to good use.”

You rolled your eyes at her as she drew back, and she just shrugged. What? Sue me, she mouthed back at you before she resumed her bored expression.

You sighed and irritatedly waved your hand to the right, signaling the guards to take him to the dungeons instead of beheading him right on the spot. The crowd groaned a little, annoyed that they couldn’t witness an almost poetic death of an exquisite beauty, but no one dared to raise a protest. They all knew better than that.

~~~

This is all entirely her fault, you were rubbing your temples two days later to stave off the headache, thinking about what to do about him, cursing your best friend and her one track mind.

But she did have a solid point, and you are a benevolent and generous queen so you decided to put him where he would be appreciated the best and guarded the most - a royal harem, private only for you and your court ladies to use at your leisure.

Despite his dubious and potentially dangerous origins, you weren’t afraid for the safety of your court ladies. None of them were here just for decoration - all highly trained professional guards and assassins, the loyal extensions of your power, you weren’t afraid of them getting hurt or letting him escape. Vice-versa too - if anyone decided to become some kind of a vigilante justice and lay a hand on the mysterious dangerous man who could be seen as a threat to the queendom, he would be well-protected.

It really seemed to be the best solution.

A solution that would make everyone happy - you would have one less problem, the man would be out of prying and gossiping public eyes hidden well within the palace walls, the court ladies would get a new shiny toy and him…Well, no one cares about what he thinks or wants.

But even this turned out to not be an issue, because as it was reported to you a month later, the new harem addition was settling into his new role well. Maybe even too well, as you have found out from the gossips and giggles between the court ladies. Apparently, not only he didn’t have any reservations about the kind of services that were expected from him, but also he provided them very willingly and enthusiastically. Seemingly impossible to tire out, he was always happy to let himself be used by any woman, even multiple at once! as you heard the whispers.

The never ending rumors about his skills with his fingers or tongue were constantly making you blush every time you overheard. But not only that, part of why he was so popular was also how comfortable and desired he made the ladies feel. He seemed to always figure out very quickly how each woman wanted to be touched or talked to, or whichever kink she might have. He was also not shy about his own body or sexuality, but his own needs always took a back seat. He seemed to be born for this role, made to please the others.

The only thing he was not approved nor allowed to do was penetration. He was not deemed fit or deserving to sire a child for your queendom yet, that was an honor and a privilege reserved for only few distinguished harem members that have been in service for a long time. But the potential was there and everyone acknowledged it.

The beautiful, charming Probably Na Jaemin has quickly become the darling of the harem. Friendly with everyone, staff, servants, even other harem members liked talking to him and had nothing to say about him but high praise.

No suspicious behavior was reported, no escape attempts, no strange questions, no forbidden items found hidden between his possessions. Na Jaemin seemed to be fully satisfied and content with his living situations and when the servants asked if there were anything he could be missing, he only asked whether there would be a teeeny tiiiny possibility of getting a cat, maybe? If it wouldn’t cause too many problems, of course?

This bastard is just having a vacation on my account, you fumed as you were stamping your Queen’s Approval seal on the request to purchase a ragdoll for the palace.

Despite the continuous nagging and encouragement from your court ladies, especially your best friend, you haven’t seen him yourself yet. Actually, you haven’t seen anyone from the harem recently, because you were avoiding the entire palace wing by a mile. You wouldn’t admit that to anyone, but you didn’t even want to run into him in the corridors.

And now you’re expected to consider him as a possible father of your daughters. And you didn’t even have any good reason to reject this idea outright.

~~~

You have been tossing and turning in your bed for hours already and sleep was yet to come. The full moon has been shining into your chambers so strongly you could see everything even with the lights of. That must be the reason why you can’t sleep, you fumed as you were annoyingly shutting the curtains.

And then you were lying down staring at the ceiling in complete darkness for one more hour.

Okay. I give up. You said to yourself and climbed off the bed, picking up a robe, some slippers and a candlestick holder for some light to take with you.

You left your room quietly and let your feet lead you while trying to not think about where you are going. You passed a few guards on your way, replying only with a curt nod to their deep bows. At the very least you could see for yourself that they are doing their job properly.

You finally ended up in front of the door that was the target destination of your night trip. You put your hand on the handle and were just about to open it, when the door flew open and a young giggly lady ran out straight into your arms, startling you both.

You did your best to not drop your light or burn either of you, while she quickly (and with complete horror) realized who did she run into, composed herself and started apologizing, bowing deeply and begging you for forgiveness. You just dismissed her with a wave of your hand and she didn’t need to be told twice - she bowed once more for good measure and disappeared into the corridor.

Once the commotion calmed down you were free to look into the room. It was a normal harem room, nice and spacious, beautifully decorated with imported furniture and full of lights and candles, with a big bed in the middle. And just there, in the middle of the bed, leisurely spreaded on the finest silks your country could provide, was Jaemin. And what a sight for sore eyes he was - dressed only in light silk pants,so thin, you could almost make out what’s under them, with only his upper body on display, all in its tanned and muscular glory. Lying there, like a picture perfect example of debauchery, sweaty, used, and covered in lovebites and bodily fluids, as if letting himself to show you what he's there for.

He didn’t scramble off the bed to bow to you, which would be a punishable offense and he must have known. Instead, he let his head drop back on the pillow and with drowsy eyes, tired voice and wide smug smile he asked:

“Your highness… How can I help you?” he drawled slowly, without any care about what’s proper and what is not. He seemed to enjoy being seen in such a state, especially by you.

You clenched your jaw. You will not be entertaining this kind of behavior. You promptly turned on your heel and left his room, slamming the door behind you.

You took on the way back to your quarters, fuming the entire time, but trying to not think about why exactly.

~~~

It’s been a few days and you can’t sleep again. But this time, you are not trying to. You’ve been periodically alternating lying restlessly in your bed with pacing around your room. You might have checked yourself in the mirror once or twice. And now you’re back in bed, more nervous and anxious than you should be. You keep glimpsing on the clock even though it’s still a little bit too early - your instructions were clear - better later than to be seen. But you still can’t wait, you’re not sure if it’s just the anxiety or also maybe some anticipation.

The heavy door to your chambers slowly opens, revealing your visitor - Na Jaemin, slipping through the door silently like a cat, closing them after himself without any sound. He’s wearing only a thin, almost translucent white silk shirt and some light linen pants - both entirely inappropriate attire even for slinking through the palace corridors deep at night. He is looking at you, his facial expression neutral, not exposing any of his thoughts.

“Your highness,” he greets. He doesn’t bow.

You nod in reply, but don’t know what else to say. Usually you wouldn’t be so shy or embarrassed, but none of your harem members unsettles you like he does. You could just order him around, but it doesn’t feel right, you don’t want it like that. The moment is so awkward that you don’t know whether to start laughing or not, as you are just staring at each other. So you decide to slightly break the tension by lifting the silk duvets in invitation.

He doesn’t wait a second and swiftly joins you in your massive canopy bed, throwing half of the bedding off on the ground. He settles between your legs, laying down on his belly and pushes your nightgown up. With just a brief glance at your face to confirm his intentions he gets to work. He starts eating your pussy with the skill and talent of someone who, well, eats pussy as a profession - and it would have felt maybe too impersonal if he weren’t so good at it. He’s enthusiastic and he clearly likes doing it, with his eyes closed and occasional humming. It feels good, his tongue feels like it’s everywhere at the same time and the tempo is perfect, even more when he dares to slip two fingers inside you.

It’s good, too good and you don’t want to come. Not yet, not before he does what needs to be done. But he doesn’t know that yet.

You reluctantly grab him by his hair and unstick him from your pussy. He looks so beautiful, his eyes are closed and his face is flushed, with sweat gathering on his temples. His lower face is all wet and his lips are so red. He opens his eyes, slowly, blinking:

“You don’t want to? Is that not why I am here?” he asks, looking surprised. You are not sure whether to trust it or he’s just pretending. But you don’t feel like you are obligated to explain yourself to him.

“Take it out. Put it in,” you order.

“Oh, so it’s like that, is it?” his face transforms completely, his smug wide shark smile back on his face. You let his hair go and he gets up, keeling between your legs, towering over you. He starts to untie his pants.

“Is that what this is about?” he asks, while grabbing you by your hips, pulling you closer to him so easily as if you weighed nothing. “I heard some gossip about an heir. So are you just using me for breeding?” he says, putting on a fake accusatory tone. How does he have the mental presence to pretend-pout while he’s literally pushing his hard cock inside, flashes through your head.

He stops when he’s all the way in and leans forward over you, unmoving and staring right into your eyes, his unsettling smile plastered on as usual.

“Yes.” you do your best to keep your voice stable as he starts moving. You relax and lift your legs to wrap them around his back to push him deeper. His movements are fluid and he’s gentle, clearly thinking of your comfort first, not just hammering in without consideration.

“The royal court has found you a purpose,” you breathe out, closing your eyes. You drop your head back on the pillows. “And I am not using you, you should be honored.”

“Does the royal court not care about the father of its heirs being just a lowly pleasure slave? Maybe we are more equal than you think, you know” taunts Jaemin. You run your hands over his wide back, holding on for the dear life and he’s starting to fuck you more thoroughly, his tempo getting faster. Despite that, he doesn’t seem to get any winded, his stamina is solid and his self-control clearly impeccable, as he doesn’t seem to be affected in any way. But he is, you can feel him sweat, you can feel the slick wetness between your bodies just as well as you can feel how hard he is.

“It’s-it’s not important,” you stutter between thrusts. You’re slowly getting there and it’s becoming hard to think. He’s going fast and deep and finally you can hear him getting out of breath.

“Okay,” he breathes out. He lowers down so he can kiss you on your neck. “I’ll give you your daughters” he puts his lips close to your ear, his deep voiced whispers accompanying his final thrusts, as he loses the rhythm and cums inside of you, with your orgasm following right after, triggered by his and his words.

You keep holding on to him tightly as you feel pumping his cum inside of you, both coming down from your orgasms. You’re enjoying this closeness and you don’t really want to let go, but everything is getting too hot and sticky, so you reluctantly let him drop on the bed next to you.

You feel completely liquid but when you glance at him, he’s already recovered, with his breath back to normal and wits fully gathered.

He grins at you. “Your highness~~ Were you satisfied with my services?”

Yes. “We will see that soon.”

He turns to his side and gets close to cuddle up to you. You don’t know what to do with your limbs, but let him do as he wishes. Which is sticking himself fully onto you like an octopus.

“I was thinking, If it works out well, maybe you could let me make a few more babies for your court ladies, so the throne heir has friends to play with, what do you think?” he mumbles into your skin.

Fuck no. It’s not that you are possessive, not over a measly harem member, but something about this proposal rubs you the wrong way. You frown and start to fight your way out of his embrace to scold him from a more dignified position, but you’re stuck in an iron cuddle grip. And the more you try to wiggle out, the tighter it gets.

“Noooooo? Does your majesty not like this idea~~?” he asks. “That’s okay then, we will just have to work eeeeeextra hard to make this one a twins,” he laughs, already scrambling up so he can get between your legs again.

And you can’t help yourself, and laugh with him.

~~~

a/n: i like to imagine that this jaemin is actually a runaway youngest prince of some neighboring country who decided to become a hitman for hire, because that’s just so much more fun. he loooves killing people, but he really did need a vacation :)

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archangeldyke-all · 2 months

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For the arranged marriage au I thought it was so funny how readers mom was regretting setting her up with Sevika. Could we see more of that? Like it could be the morning after the last fic you wrote of them and they can barely get any of their responsibilities taken care of bc they’re all over each other and readers mother and sevs father has to keep reminding them 😭

That was just one thought I had so I hope that’s enough to help you out and get ideas flowing!

I LOVE THEM adl;fja;slkdj

men and minors dni

"you are in so much trouble, young lady."

you cringe in your mother's arms, her stern voice still the same after all this time.

sevika's taken you home for your third anniversary. as much as you love zaun, there's no place like home, and you've been dying to show sevika all over your kingdom since you moved to zaun.

you pull away from your hug with your mom to blink up at her. "hello to you too, mom. good to see you after all this time...?" you prompt. she rolls her eyes and pinches your cheek.

"yes, yes, you look amazing, i feel so old, i've missed you dearly. now tell me why the king of zaun has been writing me, begging me to get you under control?" she asks, her pinch on your cheek flying up to your ear.

you cringe and squirm. "mom!" you whine. "he pushes sev around too much, whaddya expect?" you manage to duck out of her pinch, and run into your dad's arms before she can grab you again.

he and sevika are laughing at the sight of the queen disciplining her daughter, and he kisses your throbbing earlobe when you hug him. "hello, dear." he greets. "it's so good to have you back. how long are you staying?"

"six months." sevika replies for you.

your mother groans at her answer.

you only end up staying for three.

about a month into your stay, you sneak sevika out of the palace walls to visit the hot springs you used to frequent as a rebellious teenager.

it takes a few nips of the liquor in the flask you'd brought along to convince her-- but you manage to get sevika to strip down naked with you and go for a swim.

it's magical, swimming and laughing and playing with your wife in the warm water, the moon your only witness.

"so this is what you did for fun growing up?" sevika asks when she's got you in her arms, your arms around her shoulders, your legs around her hips. she holds you easily in the water-- though she doesn't struggle out of the water with this either.

"this, and a whole lotta drinking games." you joke. sevika snorts.

"am i the first girl you ever brought here?" she asks.

you grin, and sevika ducks her head in embarrassment. "are you jealous baby?" you ask.

"'m a fucking princess. you're my wife. 'm not jealous." she mumbles.

you cackle, then swoop in to kiss the frown off her lips. "you're the first girl i ever brought here." you promise. her pout vanishes and she smiles.

"you're just saying that to make me feel better." she accuses. you laugh and nod along, and she groans.

"what the fuck! you brought other women here?!" she whines. your laughs are so loud, a few birds asleep in the trees overhead wake up and fly away. "who are they? i'll kill 'em." she demands.

you kiss your wife. "sev, darling, i was fifteen. we'd stick our feet in and pass a bottle-- i'd be lucky if i got a kiss." you say. she's still pouting, but it's lessening as you speak.

"so... they didn't see you naked?" she asks, her eyes ducking down to take a quick peek at your tits as she speaks. you burst into another round of laughter.

"no, they didn't. they didn't have their hands on my ass like this either." you say, gesturing to the way she's holding you. sevika's pout breaks into a cocky smile as she squeezes your asscheeks, and you giggle.

"fuckin' idiots. i'd've been all over you babe, i promise." she mumbles as she starts to press kisses down your throat. you snort.

"baby-- i've seen the royal portraits from when you were fifteen." you tease. she groans, biting your throat to keep you from speaking. you just tug her hair and continue. "i think you'd've been way too distracted by the stables and horses to give a fuck about skinny dipping."

sevika bites your shoulder and you yelp, and then she glares up at you. "you're never gonna let that go, are you?" she groans.

you giggle and shake your head no.

sevika was obsessed with horses in her adolescence, to the point where she demanded that she be painted alongside all her horses (both real and imaginary) for her fifteenth portrait. it's fucking adorable-- one of your favorite paintings of her in all of zaun. the childlike whimsy in her eyes, the excited grin on her lips, the ridiculous riding uniform that she was quickly outgrowing in the midst of puberty-- it's perfect. you've asked for a minature version to be painted so you can keep it in a locket.

sevika hates it. to distract you from your fond, adoring laughter, she pushes you against a stone, and shoves her tongue down your throat.

it's a pretty good distraction.

you moan, scratching sevika's shoulders in a weak attempt to pull her even closer to you.

just as her hand starts to trail up your thigh toward your cunt, a scandalized gasp rings out, followed by a clatter.

you and sevika jump apart, and then a moment later, sevika jumps in front of your naked body, protecting your naked body from view of your intruder.

only-- it's not an intruder.

it's holy elder reginald, and all his religious gear.

"oh my-- ladies!" he squeaks. you and sevika both cringe and quickly jump out of the water to begin dressing yourselves as reginald turns his back, but continues to shout. "it's the first full moon of spring! it's a holy day! these are holy waters! you are desecrating a landmark sacred to our peo--"

"sorry reggie!" you giggle, pulling your underwear back on and grabbing sevika's wrist. "i-i forgot about the moon magic stuff, zaun's all about the sun!"

this pisses the old man off even more, and you shrink in on yourself as he spins around to gawk at you. "the moon mag-- princess!" he scolds.

behind you, sevika tugs on your grasp. you giggle, then let her pull you back toward the dirt path you'd come in on, both of you sprinting away from the screaming old man, cackling as you run through the forest and back toward your palace.

when you get back to your room, both of you are delirious with laughter and embarrassment, laughing against one another hysterically as you try to kiss.

in the morning, your mother nearly rips your ear off your head with all the pinching she does as she scolds you. it's worth it for the way sevika blushes each time holy elder reginald attends a meeting with her, though.

two months into your visit, sevika almost causes an uprising a small fishing village when the two of you visit.

she doesn't mean to, it's just a cultural miscommunication, but you watched in horror as your wife is offered a precious, sacred scale from the great fish of your nation-- and she pops it in her mouth and starts chewing.

you gasp, choke, and then squeal. "sev, no!"

but, it's too late. she swallowed it. the ancient token of appreciation, acceptance, and leadership-- meant to be worn like a badge of honor-- right down the hatch.

"what, was there a sauce to dip it in or something?" she asks.

you had to put yourself between your wife and the mob of angry old fishermen, waving your hands and promising your people that your wife doesn't know the custom-- that most gifts in zaun are edible-- that, really, if you get to know her, she's very nice.

(then you have to rush her back home to the medic, because her stomach starts acting up and she starts shitting her pants. she spends the rest of the week in the royal infirmary.)

and then, the final straw-- three months into your visit back home, you and sevika attend a ball.

it's meant to be something lowkey and smiple-- there are a few foreign dignitaries visiting, and now that they have no children to raise, your parents are always looking for a reason to have a dance.

a casual affair-- just your family and the nobles, a few merchants, some townspeople who won tickets for a night at the palace in a lottery-- something easy and fun to take place in the courtyard on a lovely spring evening.

but then, he shows up.

sir trent. you grew up with the asshole-- his parents are invaluable consultants to your parents, but he's a worthless dickhead. constantly questioning your parents decisions, acting as if he could rule a country with ease despite the fact that he hasn't worked a day in his life, manipulating and demeaning everyone he meets in an attempt to boost his own ego.

you manage to avoid him most the night, you and sevika dancing and eating and drinking in your own little corner by the rose bushes, wrapped up in each other's eyes-- uncaring of the world around you.

but then he swaggers over, a smirk on his lips as he approaches you. "princess!" he greets.

you and sevika slow to a sway and you nod politely. "sir trent, good to see you."

"'s been a while, huh?" he asks. you nod, then turn back to sevika, assuming the conversation is over. "who's your lady friend?" he asks.

you stop in your tracks, then turn to face him fully, letting go of sevika's hips. "my wife?" you ask.

"oh, is that so?" he asks. you nod, not understanding his line of questioning. "so your parents finally relented to all your..." he waves his hand in your general direction. "stuff."

"my stuff?"

"your bullshit."

"excuse me--" sevika tries to cut in. you hold a hand up, and she stops, her chest just barely brushing your fingers.

"my bullshit?"

"how do the two of you expect to produce an heir?" he asks. "it's a disgrace to the entire royal bloodline."

"a bloodline you are not a part of." you remind him.

he scoffs, and takes a step back, his face turning red in anger. "fuck you."

"you fuckin' wish!" you laugh. trent shivers, and then his voice squeaks as he screams.

"i don't wish, princess, but if you ever need a sperm donor, i'd be willing to bend that wife of yours ov--"

you aren't sure what's happened until your knuckles start stinging.

trent's flat on his back, knocked out cold, his nose bloody. all the party guests have turned to face you, and the music's stopped.

you blink down at your hand, your knuckles bloody, and then you giggle.

oh. you think. i've always wanted to do that.

"...babe?" sevika asks.

you turn around, and sevika breaks into a grin the moment your eyes meet. "are you okay?" you ask, worried about the disgusting things he'd said to her. sevika cackles, and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss.

you vaguely register the conducter counting the band off, and the music starting again. a few hoots and cheers ring out around the courtyard, and you even hear your dad's loud, proud laugh.

when sevika's hand travels down to grab your ass, your mother's eerily loud throat-clear rings out. you both jump away guiltily, and turn to face the queen as she approaches you.

"i'm sorry mom, he w--"

"don't worry, dear, sir trent's always been my least favorite of the nobles." she whispers, kissing your cheek, and reaching out to hold sevika's hand. she sighs, then rolls her eyes. "that being said, i am kicking you two out of my kingdom."

you blink. "what?"

"i ask that you return to zaun before next week-- or i will have you forcibly deported." she says. you blink again.

"what!?"

"dear, if i let you stay any longer, the two of you will cause a fucking war." she says. "i love you. i've missed you. i am so happy you and sevika are happy and in love-- but i simply cannot deal with your mayhem anymore. your ban will be lifted next year, when you will be allowed to visit again for one month. that's it."

your mother turns on her heels and marches away, and you watch her go, shocked.

under your feet, trent starts to groan and blink awake.

beside you, your wife bursts into laughter.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

@raphaellearp

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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thehorrorgirlstyles · 22 days

Text

Be my Queen

King!Loki x Commoner!reader

Warnings: Royal AU, Mentions of death, Swearing, 18+ content, blood, violence, mature themes, sexual themes & words, dark themes

Note: I am not an expert with Royal titles, I tried as closely to follow what I know, but there could be some mistakes such as status.

Summary: Loki has taken a liken to you, wanting you to be his queen....his mother has other plans in mind.

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"Mother, MOTHER!" you yell out, running towards her. The guards drag her limp body away from you, she leaves a trail of blood behind. "PLEASE MOTHER!" You cry out as they disappear around the corner. You keep running, trying to reach her, but she's gone and you can't seem to keep up. You can't feel your body as tears stream down your face. You continue to run, but you end up back where you started. Blackness surrounds you as you drift off losing consciousness. Your eyes close and you feel yourself falling, hitting the floor with a "thump!".

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You wake up in a cold sweat, breathing deeply. This has been the third time you've had this nightmare this week. The recurring dream of your mother haunts you, but you know that it isn't true. It's just a nightmare. She passed away in her sleep due to a disease, your own father told you when you were eight asking, "Where mommy has gone?". So why do you keep having this nightmare you wonder?

You get out of bed and head to the bathroom. You have no time to think about the dream as you have more important things to do today. Loki's ceremony where he will be announced King happens in a few days. As the daughter of the Royal Advisor and executive officer, it is your job to help the servants and ladies-in-waiting with making sure everything is ready when the day comes. The kingdom has been over crowded as of late as the commoners and people of the kingdom are excited to see Loki become king. It is believed that he will be a great ruler as he is kind and compassionate to those of less status. You especially are happy to see Loki become King, he deserves it.

When you get out of the shower, you sit down at your vanity and brush your hair. Looking into the mirror you realize what this means for Loki and you. He will have to take a Queen and you have little to no status. You only reside in the palace because your dad is their right hand man. Queen Frigga has been like a mother figure to you as your family grew up serving the royal family and has provided your family with the honor of residing in her kingdom of Asgard, her saying that it will be easier to call on you if you live in their quarters. When your mother passed, Frigga told you that you would take her place and become her lady-in-waiting as soon as you turned 18, which happens to be the same day as Loki's ceremony.

As you and Loki grew up together, you developed feelings. You have been seeing Loki since you guys were 16. You don't know how you'll be able to see him grow old with someone else, but you know he'll have to. You finish up getting ready when you hear a knock sound on your door. You tighten your robe around yourself, walking towards the noise.

"Yes?" you answer the door looking out to see Emma, a servant.

"Hello m'lady Prince Loki asked me to give these to you" She comes in and hangs 2 dresses on your closets doors. One is green, the other gold, both covered in diamonds each stunningly gorgeous.

"He said to choose which one you like best to wear today as well as the jewelry I laid out on your bed" She points to the Emerald earrings and diamond necklace.

"You can find him in the enchanted garden when you're done and I'll be back later to clean up your room" She walks out closing your door.

You look at the dresses deciding on which one to wear. Loki has been gifting you presents for quite some time. While you enjoy them you also feel like it's too much. You should be helping the servants, instead your playing dress up, living a life that only someone of royal status should.

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"Y/n" Loki looks at you with a small smile on his face.

You walk into the garden coming face to face with Loki.

"I see you chose the green my favorite color...You look beautiful in anything you wear my love, but you look breath taken right now" He grabs your hand, pulling you in closer. He wraps his arm over your waist, kissing you passionately.

After a minute, you back away and put your hand on his chest, "Loki, I-I..."

He looks into your eyes with concern, "What is it darling, are you alright?"

"Loki why I appreciate the grand gestures and the big fancy dresses, you can't keep doing this".

"Doing what, I don't understand..do you not like the dress, I can have another made for you my dear" he pushes a strand of your hair out of your face, his arm still holding your waist.

"No its not that...its jus-...its just that your going to be king soon and I'm no one Loki" "Your going to have to take a Queen and I am simply your servant...a commoner at best.. I'm only here because of my father"

"Y/n my love for you is stronger than any title, if being King means that I lose you.. then I shall simply stay a Prince" "However, since I can chose who will be my Queen, when I become King, I chose to take you as mine"

You look at him in shock, "bu-But Loki I'm not a Princess, it's goes against the rules".

"It doesn't matter darling, I will have the highest authority, what I say shall go and if anyone dares to say something I will deal with it myself" "Titles don't mean anything to me, in my eyes you are so much more, you have always been since I first laid my eyes on you back when we were only little beings"

A tear slips from your eyes and he wipes it away. You kiss him deeply and he roughly grabs your hips pulling you in closely. Everyday you crave his touch, you will never get enough of him. He pulls you towards the stone wall in the garden. Your back hits the wall and he hikes your leg up. You wrap it around his hip as you grind against each other.

"God, I can't wait to make you my Queen" he groans out, grabbing your neck and deepening the kiss. He's rough with his movement like he hasn't touched you in days. Your dress prevents you from actually doing anything right now, your corset feeling like its knocking the breath out of you. It is probably a good thing since you are in a public place where anyone could walk by. The garden mostly being inclosed by large glass windows and a few stone walls.

"Fuck" he slams his hand by your head, against the stone. "Shall we go to my bed chambers right now?, I need to take you Y/n.. you are making me a madman" He moves towards your neck, biting and sucking, making you moan out.

"While that sounds like a lovely idea my Lord, we both have duties to attend to and I think we have lost track of time" you giggle out, wrapping your hands around his neck.

"I don't mind losing myself in you" He goes back to your waist, pulling you in closely, meeting your mouth. You kiss him back, both moaning into it.

You hear someone clear their throat. You both quickly back away from each other. Your face reddens as you realize it's his mother that interrupted you.

Loki pulls his shirt down and tugs on his collar, sorting out his suit. He clears his throat, "uh- Mother what seems to be the matter?"

Frigga looks between the both of you. You can't tell, but there seems to be something behind her eyes that doesn't look happy. Even though she smiles and walks further into the garden to meet you, "Son, Princess Amor is here to meet with you, she is in the foyer with Duke William".

Loki goes to complain, but is stoped by Frigga, "It is advise that you see to her, now" She gives her son a warning look. Frigga has been trying to set her son up with a Princess over the last few weeks.

He sighs and looks to you, "I'll be back as soon as I can" he gives you a sympathetic look and kisses the top of your head, walking out the garden.

Frigga watches him leaves and looks to you, "Dear, walk with me will you?"

"Of course Frigga" you give her a small smile and go to start walking.

She stops you, "Its your majesty". You look at her, she's never once made you call her that, it has always been Frigga since you were little, but you nod and she smiles at you.

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You guys walk to the end of the palace outside to where the dungeon is kept, she opens the door to the basement and you look at her.

"Why are we going down here?"

"Why my dear, I simply wish to show you a part of the plaace you haven't seen before is all" She smiles, but it doesn't meet her eyes. You can't help but feel that something is wrong, but you follow her down the stairs.

It's cold and dark, the stairs seeming to go on forever. You finally reach the bottom and see a bunch of rooms some with prison bars. You guys walk to the end of the hall. On the way you peep into one of the rooms and see blood smeared on the walls, chains hanging from the ceiling.

You can't help but ask, "What exactly do you use this place for?"

She turns around and motions you to continue following her. You reach the end of the hall and enter the biggest room of the dungeon. Inside is more chains and a large table in the middle that looks like a guillotine.

"To answer your question, this area of the palace is used for anyone that crosses the kingdom, such as traitors or thieves"

"So like a prison, where they serve out their time...pay back their debt?" You ask looking around the room.

"Yes exactly..except they don't serve out their time.. you seen we have other rules around here that we have to enforce in order to keep the peasant in control, an eye for a eye if you will".

You stop your movements and look at her, "You kill them!?"... "But Loki would never dare to do such a thing".

She laughs, "Yes I see my son is a little too weak to carry out these things, which is why I carry out the orders".

"You command the guards to kill...but why Frigga?.. they're still people, people with families and children".

"IT'S QUEEN FRIGGA TO YOU AND YOU WILL ADRESS ME A SUCH!" she yells at you. You jump back in shock. "They should have thought about that before crossing me..GUARDS SEIZE HER!"

You look up and see five men come rushing in, they grab you roughly. You try to get away from them, but their hands dig into your skin, making you cry out, "Wh-What are you doing?" You look to Frigga. Why is she doing this to you?

"You see dear my son is deeply in love with you and I can't have that, it makes him weak, and you are no one..a nobody, he needs to marry someone of royal status... a Princess" "I let you both have your fun, but now he will be crowned King in a few days".

"B-But I don't understand you practically raised me, my family has been apart of yours for so long.. I looked at you like you were my own mother!"

"I know dear and I'm sorry for that, your father has been quite loyal to us and I to have looked at you as my daughter, but the fact is that you aren't.. and I need my son to marry someone that will be an asset to our kingdom.. you are simply not that, its nothing personal dear".

The guards move you towards the table, strapping you to it with ropes. You squirm as you try to get free, but it's no use the ropes burn against your skin. "He'll never forgive you for this..Loki will never look at you the same!" You cry out.

"He won't know it was me.. neither will your father, he will still be serving us as if you never existed" She laughs in your face, "Just like he did with your mom"

"What?" You look at her, "My mom died of disease".

"Is that what he told you?" .. "I had her taken away and killed, she was a pest, my husband couldn't seem to take his eyes off her, so I got rid of her and him".

It wasn't a dream? It was real? The guards really did drag her away and you saw it happen..

More tears stream down your face. Frigga comes up to you and pets your hair, "Shhhh sweetie its okay it will be over soon, I am truly sorry it had to come to this.. I would have had you just marry off to someone else, but you're ruined. I know Loki ruined you and no one wants a whore of a woman who has slept with another man".

"Please, don't do this.. Please Frigga I beg of you!" You cry out in a last attempt to save your life.

"Shh we wasted enough time, soon Loki will come looking for her and we need to get rid of her body, hurry up and pull the lever!" She shouts to the guards.

"Can't we have a little fun with her first, I mean she is just stunning" You hear a guard say.

"You can have fun with her after you kill her, she won't fight you back because she'll be dead, less hard on you." Frigga replies sounding annoyed.

You look at them in disgust, how could this woman you once thought of a mom do this to you?

"Oh but I like the chase, I like when they fight back, screaming out for someone to come to the rescue, but no one hears them" He smirks at you and touches your face. You whimper and flinch away from his touch.

"If you make it quick, then I'll grant you the permission".

The guards smiles at Frigga's response and gets on top of you, he rips the dress, your corset showing, while only a piece of fabric remains on your arms. You try to fight back against him, "STOP, PLEASE, SOMEBODY HELP, HELP ME!" You scream out.

He chuckles at your cries, "It's a shame that we have to kill you afterwards, such a waste of a pretty face".

Suddenly a man barges into the room, "MY QUEEN!" he looks to Frigga, frightened.

"What is it!"

"THE PRINCE, HES COMING, A GUARD TOLD HIM WHAT YOU WHERE PLANNING!"

Frigga face pales, "HURRY UP GET OFF THE GIRL, KILL HER NOW!"

The guard gets off of you immediately and while you're thankful he couldn't progress any further, you are also now scared for death faces you.

Frigga decides that the guards are taking too long of a time, as you see her push one out of her way and walk towards the lever. You screams out for help. When your prayers are answered.

"STOP THIS ISNTANT!" Loki opens the door.

Frigga's hand pauses in front of the lever. Tears continue to stream down your face.

"BACK AWAY FROM HER!" Loki rushes to your side and begins undoing the ropes which hold you down. You look at him and see a look that you've never seen before. He is beyond angry.

"Loki I-" Frigga begins.

"DO NOT SPEAK TO ME!" he raises his voice, not even looking at his mother.

He finally gets you free and helps you off the table. Your dress or what's left of it falls off your body due to the rip. Loki looks at you in disbelif. He pulls you to him and holds your sobbing body as you shake with fear. He shushes you, continuing to hold you as you cry. He looks and sees all the bruises that litter your body. He snaps his head to the guards around him and then he finally looks to his mother.

"How could you do this?" he says barely above a whisper. "I will never forgive you for this, you are no mother to me and you are certainly not a Queen".

"Loki, I was only trying to save Asgard's future..Your future" Frigga pleads with him. You look and see tears forming in her eyes. How ironic you think.

Loki looks to the guards ignoring his mother, "Who touched her?". No one replies. "WHO FUCKING TOUCHED HER!" The guards flinch with fear.

"It was him, he tried t-to ra- me" You point to the guard that was on top of you. Loki looks at you and pulls you back into him.

"I want you to get on that table and pull the lever" he looks at the guard.

"What- But- but- I- she" the guard quivers in fear.

"Stay right here darling and close your eyes" Loki kisses the top of your head and lets you go. He walks over to the guard and you hear him punch him.

"Please, it was a mistake, I didn't mean to touch your lady my Lord" you hear him grunt out. Loki grabs the guard by his collar and throws him under the guillotine.. You hear the guard scream out as the blade cuts into his neck. Loki wipes the blood off his face that splattered on him, "Anyone else?" he looks around the room and back to you.

You finally open your eyes meeting his, your eyes fall to the lifeless body on the floor, but Loki moves to block your view. You quietly shake your head.

"Alright then, what shall I do with the use of you" .. "How about we start with you mother" Frigga looks up, scared when she sees the look in her son's eyes.

"Guards lock her away in one of the dungeon rooms, until I figure out what to do with her, maybe I'll let sweet Y/n decide, since it was her life you so blindly casted aside".

"Son-" Loki cuts her pleads off, "GUARDS!"

The guards look between each other not knowing who's orders to follow.

"I AM YOUR KING YOU WILL OBEY ME!" Loki yells out. The guards rush to grab Frigga, dragging her away. The image reminds you of your mother, funny you think, what goes around, comes around.

As soon as they're gone Loki rushes to your side. You see the pain in his eyes as he stares at you. "I am so very deeply sorry my darling, I should have known my mother would go behind my back like this" .. "I promise you I won't let any harm come to you ever again, we will rule together, you will be my Queen, Asgard's Queen, you deserve it more than any Princess, Y/n".

"As long as I am with you Loki, I don't care if I am Queen or a commoner". He holds on to you tightly with the promise of never letting go.

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Timeskip: 5 years later

"My Queen what color do you wish for the baby's room?"

"Hmmm I believe a dark shade of green would go nicely" You smile at Emma and rub your growing belly. "It's Loki's favorite Color".

Note: This was a longer one, as always hoped you enjoyed! :)

#loki smut #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki x reader #loki series #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x female reader #loki fic #loki god of mischief #loki marvel #loki mcu #royal au #loki fluff #loki fanfic

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graciereadshannigram · 5 months

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hey fam, welcome to the April 2024 roundup of the best hannigram fics i've read this past month! i read over 100 fics total, and these were the cream of the crop.

as a reminder: the ingredients for a five star rating typically (but not always!!) include some combination of a.) believable characterizations of both Hannibal and Will, b.) compelling plot and/or character arcs, and c.) high quality smut.

that being said, my judgment of the aforementioned ingredients is powered almost exclusively by vibes and as such, is incredibly subjective.

you can find past recs below:

February March

and if you have any recs of your own for me, PLEASE SHARE.

anyway, in no particular order, let's go!

A place you can never go by det395

Word Count: 84,596 Summary: When things don’t go according to plan, Hannibal makes a wish. He finds himself a year-and-a-half in the past and seemingly given another chance with Will. His feelings about the situation only get more complicated when he realizes he may not have completely lost access to his old timeline after all. A Digestivo canon divergence.

If you follow me, you probably saw me already raving about this fic. This was so fucking good, holy fucking shit. And also heartbreaking. Made me think a lot about the nature of reality and what does it mean for something to be "real." Plus, I really love fics that explore their shared mind palace because I genuinely think that is one of the more underexplored aspects of their relationship. Definitely heavy on the angst, but there is a happy ending!

even though our love is doomed by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 82,427 Summary: Hannibal solves the mystery of time travel and he and Will decide to go into the past and take opportunities previously missed along with rewriting the regrets they each hold. Changing the past does not effect the future and they have free reign to play as the please.

GIVE ME MORE THAN FIVE STARS PLEASE. I am obsessed with this fic. I've mostly stayed clear of time travel fics (aside from, you know, the one right above this) because the execution can be hit or miss, but let me fucking tell you. This was a god damn home run. There's a little bit of angst, but then there's also a chapter where Will challenges Hannibal that he wouldn't have been able to seduce him while Will was still working in Louisiana fixing boat motors. And obviously Hannibal decides to take that challenge.

Railroad Romance by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles

Word Count: 12,400 Summary: Hannibal is still Hannibal, and Will is still Will. Except Will is not part of the FBI and they meet on a two day train trip from New Orleans to Baltimore.

Dirty. Talk. In. FRENCH. Holy shit. Okay this was excellent. EXCELLENT. Perfect characterizations, and wonderful dialogue. Wow. Also, I love trains. Who doesn't love trains?

patroclus in furs by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 130,185 Summary: If Will and Hannibal hadn't gone into their respective careers, they would have become porn stars.

I had my doubts about a pornstar AU, but I've really enjoyed everything else by this author and it was over 100k, so I gave it a shot! And WOW. The characterizations of both Will and Hannibal were spot on and believable. A good mix of fluff and angst, and the author clearly put a lot of thought into the porn scenes. Tbh I'm probably going to reread this shortly.

Pavlova by nbcravenstag

Word Count: 33,369 Summary: It’s not like Hannibal didn’t know that Will was hiding something. It was after the third body drop a week ago that it became clear that Will had a secret that somehow involved the case, one he wasn’t willing to share yet, not even with Hannibal. At 6:43 AM, Will had texted Hannibal that a fourth body had been found and that he was on his way to the scene with Jack. At 8:06 PM, Will had stepped into Hannibal’s office, thirty-six minutes past his appointment time, and practically shouted “I used to be a stripper!” as loudly as his hoarse voice would allow him to. Hannibal Lecter, though not phased by much in life, has never been entirely able to predict Will Graham, but this is just… getting out of control. Alternatively, the FBI is hunting a serial killer targeting male strippers, and Will decides to throw himself into the fray. Hannibal is beyond pleased.

An AU where Will was a stripper in college and now he's working a case where he can be live bait as a stripper? Shut the fuck up. Mostly told from Hannibal's perspective, and it's just *chefs kiss*. Who knew Will giving Hannibal a lap dance would be so HOT. (I could have guessed.)

Lessons In Submission by wyldefire

Word Count: 5,173 Summary: Hannibal was stubborn, independent, and Will had always loved that about him, but there were times, times like these, in the midst of heat, in the midst of such a thorough breeding, when lessons in submission were necessary.

My only thought at the end of this was, "Shut the whole fuck up" in the best way possible. Smut. Just all smut.

A Very Special Guest by LesBeanBurrito

Word Count: 56,660 Summary: Season 1 AU in which Will stays for Hannibal’s dinner party after bringing the bottle of wine at the end of 1X07 Sorbet. Embarrassed and Sassy Will Graham meets Smitten Hannibal Lecter.

I LOVE a good season 1 AU and this was checking all of the boxes for me! There's a secret relationship, Hannibal actually gets Will treated for his encephalitis, Will finds out about Hannibal, etc. Very much loved the plot, and the characterizations were spot on.

lover to your nightmare (look what you made of me) by merrythoughts and ReallyMissCoffee

Word Count: 123,367 Summary: Driving back home, it’s then he reflects on Hannibal asking him to run away that night. To forgo their plans altogether, to slip away. [Canon divergent. Will confesses his betrayal and asks Hannibal to run away with him, but Will has a plan of his own...]

You want dark!Will mixed in with some incredibly jealous and possessive Hannigram? Hooo boy do I have a fic for you! The ending was a little abrupt, but it was the perfect mix of gut-wrenching angst and toxicity + smoking hot smut. I genuinely had to stop and focus on my breathing more than once.

On the Lam by shotgun_sinner

Word Count: 63,992 Summary: Post-Fall (Hannibal)season 4Crack Treated SeriouslyOn the RunWill Graham Discovers FanfictionExplicit Sexual Contentsexual identity crisisThat's Not Really A CrisisWill Graham is HannisexualMurder HusbandsHomophobiaMurder of a HomophobeHannibal Lecter Loves Will GrahamWill Graham Loves Hannibal LecterPower Bottom Will Grahamthey love each other your honorvery meta

This was such a fun read – I love the implication that hannigram fanfiction exists and it's all there for Will to accidentally discover. I adore this author and just thoroughly enjoyed how Will learned a thing or two about himself by reading smutty fics (same dude).

Golden Promises by shotgun_sinner

Word Count: 68,488 Summary: Hannibal (TV) Season/Series 01Alternate Universe - Canon DivergenceEpisode: s01e07 SorbetHallucinations?Will Hopes SoLELOplugSexuality CrisisThat Ends Up Not Being A CrisisWill Graham Has EncephalitisHannibal Gets Will TreatmentDeveloping RelationshipWill Graham's Dogs - FreeformBonding over fooddoting hannibalEventual SmutHannibal Lecter Loves Will GrahamWill Graham Loves Hannibal LecterAlana DisapprovesRimmingOral SexBottom Hannibal LecterTop Will GrahamBottom Will GrahamTop Hannibal LecterWill Graham KnowsNon-Consensual Drug UseWill Gives Him Shit For ItMurder HusbandsCannibalismis that tag even necessary?Hannibal Lecter Loves Max

This was fluffier than I typically read, but I told y'all I love this author. Pretty much no angst, and the smut, as always, was next level. Also, the idea that Hannibal would wear a solid gold butt plug to his dinner parties had me laughing before I even started reading.

What Hatches by HotMolasses (@snazzymolasses here on tumblr)

Word Count: 107,847 Summary: There is a village, nestled on the edge of an ancient forest where it is always winter. Few of the townsfolk ever venture into it, except for one lonely hunter named Will Graham. A loner who makes his living selling stag meat and spends more time with dogs than people, he finds his life changing when he comes face-to-face with a magical beast, one that he cannot get away from, and isn’t even sure he really wants to.

What started out as a curiosity about the monsterfucking tag on AO3 brought me to one of the most unique and interesting hannigram AUs I've read??? I'm as surprised as you are, if not more. I adored this fic and I loved how both Will and Hannibal were characterized and the plot and the smut (oh my god, the smut) and the ending? Phew. Go read this.

lay like a flood spills away by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 35,733 Summary: Will starts going to a nude beach that happens to be for gay men, even though he considers himself straight.

This was highly enjoyable. I LOVE AUs that manage to keep the characters true to canon. Also nude beaches. Hannigram and nude beaches. Eating ass and public sex with some actual plot sprinkled in. Say LESS.

Now, What Should We Do Next? by HigherMagic

Word Count: 51,116 Summary: Kinktober 2018

Smut. All smut. I showed this fic to a friend who has literally never read fanfiction, let alone Hannigram, before and she is now hooked. So. Do with that what you will. And it's so clear that this author has actual, real-life experience with kink and it comes across so well! Bonus point: there is also an equally good sequel.

To Mend With Gold by beforethedawn, ConstructFairytales, Destinyawakened

Word Count: 98,863 Summary: Will and Hannibal have been living as a gay married couple for three years, but they haven't slept in the same room let alone the same bed. Will Graham has a reckoning, one way or another.

THIS WAS TENDER. Fluffy, angsty, smutty, I loved it. Molly showed up with Will's dogs and decided she wasn't going to turn them in, which was a little weird, but I really loved this fic. Just them learning how to be with each other. Also EXCELLENT marathon smut scenes. Like yesssss, of course they can each cum like three times in a row.

A Clutch at Balance by Deverauxs_Disease

Word Count: 25,466 Summary: When Will Graham storms into Hannibal's house muttering about kissing Alana Bloom, the good doctor makes Will an offer: Pretend to date Hannibal in order to prove to Alana that Will is not only stable but capable of being in a relationship. When Alana is convinced Will is the man of her dreams, Hannibal will step aside and Will can get his girl.

Y'all know I love fake dating that all of a sudden, whoops! Isn't so fake anymore! Sprinkle in some jealous and possessive Hanni and Will? I'm sold. Say less.

And that's a wrap on this month! See ya next time!!!

#gracie reads hannigram #hannibal #hannigram #will graham #hannibal lecter #murder husbands #nbc hannibal #hannibal tv show #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #hannibal nbc #hannigram fics #hannigram fic recs #hannigram fic rec

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twstfanblog · 2 months

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~Manhwa AU- A Fairytale Do-Over~ Pt 2

A/N: GUESS WHAT I FINISHED~? It's been hot as fuck over here recently and our house doesn't have central air. So writing has been hard, but I managed! Enjoy Malleus's huberous trying to hit him but he's still too short to get the lesson. Next part will be when Yuu meets Leona! Word Count: 3.9K Pairings: Yuu & Malleus (Their friendship has ended and he doesn't even know it), Sibling Malleus & Silver, Parental Lilia & Silver Prev / Next

The royal palace was massive, the size rivaling that of an urban village. And that didn't include the gardens, the patios, the woods attached to the grounds; the area was so large that there were even hidden places Lilia didn't know about. It was grand and it was lavished, all that an empirical bloodline could want. But it was empty, halls filled with priceless artwork and historical artifacts echoed with every footstep you took.

It was a sound Lilia had heard twice and never wished to hear a third time. First was when he was brought to the palace to be Maleanor’s playmate, second was the day after her and her husband's funeral.

And now, as he stared down a twitching servant, he was sure the palace had started to prep itself to return to such a state. He massaged his temples, taking a long and slow breath in, “Forgive me…I must have grown hard of hearing in my age…what did you say?”

The servant shook in terror, the silver tray he held in his hands jostling the letter on it. Lilia Vanrouge was retired as a general, but no one in the fleet of servants or guards dared to upset him. Even delivering bad news was seen as foolish and asking to be punished, “Yu-…The young miss Crowley’s invite was returned…unopened…We called their residence to ask…but the servants are stating that…she is ill and unwilling to attend…”

“…”

Lilia felt…flabbergasted. Yuu had attended Malleus's birthdays sick before, the adoration the young girl held for his charge gave her the will to suffer through hours of discomfort. No illness or annoyingly loud guests could deter her from spending time with her friend.

But even thinking that made him flinch. Malleus was not…receptive to Yuu's kindness or shows of friendship. The young fae lord had found the girl to be clingy, annoying, downright a pain. But no matter how he protested their playdates, Lilia kept scheduling them because Malleus needed someone to see as his equal.

Though he was the crowned prince, a marvel to the fae and kingdom, Yuu was by marriage his cousin and closest of equal royal standing. Malleus’s father was not of noble blood, a fact that kept his and Maleanor’s love from truly being accepted by the council. Luckily, Levan had cut a deal with Dire, being formally adopted into the Crowley line in exchange for more loyal ties with the empire's crown once Levan and Maleanor had married.

A promise that was kept with playdates to the two houses’ heirs.

Lilia bit his lip. Though both of Malleus's parents had passed and such a promise meant nothing now, the Crowley line was all Malleus had in terms of extended family. The old fae wanted them to be close should misfortune fall upon him and leave Malleus without a proper guardian.

But Malleus was his mother's son…

Haughty, arrogant, and beautiful. He looked down on nearly everyone around him, deeming them weak and powerless against his steadily growing might. He skipped his lessons; half from his naturally absent-minded nature, mostly because he felt too good to listen to weaker fae try to teach him.

So introducing a magicless girl nearly five years younger as his equal did not go well…

Since their first playdate and Malleus had stomped back into the palace covered in mud, furious, he had simply despised the Crowley child. Yuu had merely giggled and asked to play with Malleus again, saying he was funny and she liked him. To this day, Lilia wasn't sure why Malleus had been covered in mud nor why he seemed to detest Yuu so much so quickly…He refused to repeat what happened and it only sent Yuu into a fit of laughter whenever asked. He wondered if he should have used his magic to see what had caused the issue when he still had the chance…

He sighed, picking the letter up and ignoring the servant's flinching when his hand drew near. Studying it, he marveled, it really was unopened. A part of him felt the claws of dread slowly wrap around his heart, his fears becoming realized before his eyes. Had Yuu finally had enough? Were two years of verbal abuse what caused the young girl to open her eyes to Malleus’s mistreatment and simply not return.

Turning away, he dismissed the servant and bit his lip again. Malleus didn't have other playmates. Malleus, like his mother, was feared by his subjects. A fact that made companionship more difficult than Lilia wished it would be. He wondered if he should visit the Crowley duchy, slip a tonic from the royal infirmary to have the girl healed in time for the party-

“Lilia, Silver's fallen asleep again.”

Lilia looked to the doorway, his worries melting off his shoulders at the heartwarming scene.

While Malleus had created a type of feud with the Crowley girl, he completely adored Silver; claiming the boy as his brother since he first saw him sleeping in his bassinet. They stood in the opened doorway, Malleus in a more informal attire and cradling Silver to his front. The silver-haired nine-year-old fast asleep in the prince's arms releasing angelic snores.

Sighing, Lilia held his free arm out with a small smile, “Bring him here, I will watch him while you finish your studies.”

Passing the sleeping child over, Malleus scoffed under his breath and rolled his eyes, “Studies. I have no need…” His eyes catch the glint of silver in Lilia’s hand, “What is that?”

Lilia didn’t have a chance to answer, Malleus reaching up and snatching the letter out of his guardian’s hands. Huffing, Lilia used his now free hand to properly hold Silver, “We’ve been over this; don’t snatch things from people-”

“Is this…Yuu’s invitation?” Malleus stares at the envelope, turning it over in his hands and becoming bewildered as he notices it wasn’t even opened, “Have you…Not sent this to the Crowley’s Duchy yet…?” His party was only a week away and the grand duchy was at least half a day’s journey away.

“…” Sighing, Lilia turned away from Malleus’s inquisitive eyes, “The invitation was returned unopened. Word is that the young lady Crowley is ill and unable to attend…”

Malleus stood in silence, staring at Lilia’s back before looking down at the letter in his hand, “Oh…” With a smile, he flicked the letter past Lilia and sent it directly into the lit fireplace.

“Malleus!” Lilia watched the letter burn, flaring green in a flash as the wax melted into the flames. Turning around he tried to pin a glare at the giddy preteen, “Why would you do that!?”

With a shrug, Malleus turned around with a smile. Wiping his hands of the situation as though he had easily solved all his problems, “There’s no need for it. She’s ill, isn’t she? Plus, they returned the invite. It’s within my right to do with it as I will.” He clapped his hands together as his thoughts ran wild, the very promise of Yuu not attending his party making him more and more excited for the event, “This shall be my most wonderful birthday yet! Maybe I will be just as lucky next year and she’ll still be ill.”

Lilia could only frown as Malleus laughed, walking out of the room. While Lilia hoped the young prince would go to his lessons, he knew he was more than likely heading toward the gardens or to his growing horde room. Sighing, the bi-colored fae looks down to his sleeping child. It would all be much easier if he just placed Silver as the prince’s playmate. Malleus adored Silver, but Silver was quiet. Silver was so quiet. A fact that would only echo in this massive palace as the years go on. Lilia could only hope that he’d find a cure for whatever sleep curse affected his boy. Maybe Silver could be the bridge between the two; a thesaurus for two similar yet wildly different languages.

He hoped that Malleus wouldn’t be too upset on the day of his party.

The servants would say the day of Malleus's party was divine. Not a tantrum, eye-roll, nor threat of permanent dismissal in sight. He allowed himself to be dressed easily in his outfit, black silks and furs, precious gems stitched to mimic the night sky their lands were famous for and a winding silver banded crown. Malleus looked like a prince of the infamous Noctorn Empire and he was excited.

He had talked Lilia and Silver's ears off at breakfast; his plans to speak to everyone for once since Yuu wouldn't be attached to his side and babbling nonstop. He didn't notice the concerned look in Lilia's eyes when he'd excused himself to use the emergency phone. Lilia called the Crowley duchy directly to ask if they were truly not attending the party. Crewel merely stating they had sent their gifts and wished Malleus a happy birthday in their absence. Yuu hadn't even been heard over the call.

As the beginning of the event drew closer, Lilia felt his nerves worsen, as if a looming threat was breathing down his neck and waiting to strike. A feeling that only grew stronger as Silver lost his fight with wakefulness, falling asleep a little after the first few guests started to populate the entry hall. Lilia had gathered the deadweight child into his arms, tasking Malleus to greet the guests alone while he placed Silver in a more docile environment until he woke up.

Malleus tried, he truly did. He spoke aloud and clearly as Lilia had always instructed him, head held high so that his chin and the ground were two parallel lines. He tried to shake people's hands, growing frustrated as they refused to release the brightly wrapped gifts to do such a thing. After the 6th awkward shuffle away from his outstretched hands he simply elected to not shake anymore of the lord's hands. After the 15th nervous and stuttered hello, he stopped greeting them too.

He huffed, mildly pouting as he left the entry hall, walking toward the guarded room that held his mountain of presents; gifts to be opened and cataloged once all the guests had left. Greeting people alone wasn't as fun as he imagined it would be. It would have been easier if Lilia hadn't left to tend to Silver. Lilia was a social creature in such a way that Malleus never understood, neither him nor Yuu made sense to him as to how they got people to respond so easily to them. But then again, the very thought of Yuu beside him and greeting everyone in his place made him more frustrated. The sight of her gift, as always wrapped in black and white with a bright green bow, only worsened his mood.

Slamming his hand into the brick, leaving behind Cracks and a medium-sized indent he made the choice to enter the banquet hall. (Unaware of the few cowering party guests slowly backing away from him).

The room was filled with people, fine fabrics swishing around the room in elegant dances. Looking around his enthusiasm dipped again. There were so many adults more than children his age, adults that would only give him a half glance and a respectful bow. Malleus walked along the edges of crowds, trying to see if any conversation piqued his interest or if any of the adults would glance his way to wish him a happy birthday. He received plenty of quick bows, long-winded birthday blessings with his full title. A few had even tried to start a conversation, beginning with a comment on their relation to his mother or father. Only to suck their mouths in like they had tasted the worst type of lemon flavor, remembering he never meant his mother nor his father. From there they would bow again and turn to scamper away into a crowd, leaving him alone again.

Just as he began to wonder just where Lilia was placing Silver, he saw someone who made his hopes relight. Another child his age was standing by a window, looking out the large stained glass with an air of boredom around him. They were a noble of origin from outside the empire, their clothing was brightly colored and heavily patterned. A crown of beads and braids kept dark brown hair neat yet wild, a pair of small, round lion ears peaking through. The hint of brown skin visible from the edge of their loose sleeves and crossed arms.

Gathering a bit of courage, swallowing to wet his mouth, Malleus walked forward. He smiled and tilted his head, tapping the other on the shoulder to gain his attention, “Hello. Are you enjoying the party?”

The other boy seemed to startle, almost as if he had planned on being invisible for hours more and Malleus's acknowledgement broke his trance. The boy turned to him, showing his face was marred over one eye with a long thin scar, the bright emerald green slightly duller than the other.

Once he saw who was speaking to him, he frowned. Turning away and looking at Malleus from the corner of his brighter eye as though he was a bug, “Go away.” Short, simple, and sour.

Malleus startled himself. No one had…ever dismissed him in such a way. Even when Lilia sent him away to his own devices, He said as such with an air of teasing, jovial. This…this was just rude. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped into the other boy's line of sight when he fully turned away, “Why should I? You are aware this is my birthday party, aren’t you? You should feel honored that I'm speaking to you.”

The boy scoffs, facing him directly and placing his hands on his hips. Smug, arrogant; he wasn't taller by any means but it felt as though he was looking down his nose at him, “Why would I feel honored being spoken to by a lizard?”

“…” Lightning flashed outside, bringing the already soft ambiance into a fearful silence, “A LIZARD!?” YOU DARE CALL ME A LIZARD!?”

“A lizard who throws tantrums at that.”

“Leona!” Two older men quickly rush over, looking similar to ‘Leona’ with their attire, ears, and, face yet more alike each other with their matching bold red hair. The shorter, younger man had gripped Leona by the shoulders, trying to force the boy into a bow, “Apologize! You promised you'd behave tonight!”

The older man, his red hair streaked with thin yet vivid lines of grey bowed, “A thousand apologies, Your Highness. Please forgive my youngest son. He is still recovering from an injury you see-”

“I don't care about excuses!” Malleus glared, stomping his foot as the lightning flashing again and sent the room into spasms of eerie green light. He pointed toward the scowling Leona, “He called me a lizard!”

“Malleus, lower your tone. You are among company.” Lilia walked over, placing a hand onto his charge’s shoulder and pulling him back as a physical reminder to calm down, “What's happened here?”

“It seems my son-”

Scoffing loudly, Leona rolled his head back and spoke aloud, “I called the stupid lizard, a lizard and he threw a fit over it.”

“Leona.” The younger man strained, shaking Leona by his shoulders in an effort to physically shake the sense into him.

Lilia frowned, looking down his nose at the defiant child with lidded eyes, “That's rather rude don't you think?” He looked from the corner of his eye, catching the eldest man's gaze, “Duke Kingscholar. I wasn't aware you were raising such…brazen children...”

The duke's bow seemed to deepen, “Truly, I offer apologies for every star in the sky. My youngest is recovering from an injury and fever. He isn't thinking clearly-”

The eldest brother leaned down, whispering to the sour-faced child while their father tried to save face with Lilia, “Leona, apologize. Dad's gonna make you sit in the carriage again if you don't-”

“Fine then! I didn't want to come to this dumb party anyway!”

The duke sprang up, his face furious as he rounded on his youngest son, “LEONA!”

Malleus could feel the lightning crackle outside, the bolts dancing along the sealed windows in eagerness to strike Leona down, “How…dare you!? My birthday party is the highest honor any could hope to attend, and you stand here, wasting it and calling my wrath!”

Leona scoffed, rolling his eyes before leveling Malleus with an almost arctic glare, “Who'd consider it an honor to attend a party of someone they don't even like?”

The eldest boy tried to pull his brother back, worry on his face as the lights along the wall started to flash and flicker with the green electricity struggling to breach the walls, “Leona. Enough.”

Malleus glared back, eyes almost glowing from his rage, “I don't care if you like me or not. I am your prince and you will respect me!”

Leona lets out a loud and sharp laugh, shaking himself free of his brother's hands to step closer to Malleus, “I don't respect you and I don't like you. No one does.”

“That's…That's A lie! People like me!”

“Oh, look around!” Leona gestures his arms out, only continuing when Malleus makes small cautious glances around the room, “No one here likes you, they're all afraid of you! And you're too stupid to see it, you pompous motherfuc-”

Leona was all but snatched into the air, his older brother holding his body in one arm while the other pressed tightly to his mouth. He bowed, a mumble of his brother not feeling well before he quickly absconded from the area.

Duke Kingscholar sighed, offering one last apology and a birthday blessing before he followed his sons out.

Malleus watched them leave along with everyone else. And once the Kingscholars had left he looked around the room once more, a new feeling of a sinking stone growing heavier and heavier. No one would meet his eyes, nothing past an accidental glance before quickly bowing. No one other than Lilia came to his defense, every last guest letting him be berated and mocked by a spare. And for what? To stand at the edge of their tif and cower? To…to look at him with fearful eyes?

Only once the Kingscholars left did he realize just how far away everyone else was in that moment. How even as the lightning cleared, the storm calming, no one dared approach him. No one dared look him in the eyes.

The party continued, the Kingscholars did not return and Malleus was happy for that at least. Leona was…a form of abrasive that he didn't care to deal with ever again.

He thought this birthday would be amazing, the best of his short eleven years of life. Instead, he spent the night beside Lilia, holding onto his hand and refusing to look up. Not out of any true nervousness or shame. He just…didn't want to see how no one looked his way.

They danced, they had a meal, they had cake. Everyone left after another hour of standing and talking. Were birthday parties always so…boring? Or was it just because it was his 11th birthday? Was it because Silver didn't wake midway through for cake cutting like he normally did? Was it…was it because Yuu wasn't there?

The thought annoyed him. Yuu would have never left him alone if she was there, she never had any other celebration. Clinging onto him to greet guests, chasing him through the halls while the adults spoke and networked. A leeching shadow that no matter where he went, she would worm her way into the same place at some point.

“Malleus?”

The horned fae looked up, a half-asleep Silver holding the signature black and white present out to him, “Do you want me to have Yuu's present again this year? Father said she didn't come…”

“…” Sighing, Malleus took the gift from Silver's hands, ripping the paper with an annoyed air to the act, “No. I'll keep it. She's ill; there's no telling what kind of human illness you'll catch from whatever she's coughed on in here.”

Lilia sighed, but didn't speak more. Gathering the wrapping paper of the other gifts Malleus had opened and quickly discarded for not holding his interest. He watched his son yawn, smiling as he pointed to the small table with tea and two thin slices of cake, “Silver, have some tea and cake; it'll wake you up a bit.”

“But, you said I can't have sweets past 9pm?”

“Well, I decided you can today. You normally are awake to have a slice of cake during the party…”

“I know…I'm sorry.”

“Silly boy. There's nothing to apologize for…”

As Malleus looked into the gift box in his hands, the sounds of his guardian and brother faded into the background, equally muffled by the crackling of the fireplace. Inside the present was a pair of oddly knitted tubes. To anyone else, they'd be a pair of hideous mittens for someone who didn't even have hands, but Malleus knew what they really were.

Yuu had asked him, earlier that season when he was again forced to have tea with her, if his horns ever got cold in the Winter. He had glared, telling her to not ask such stupid questions, having no time nor the knowledge to explain that his horns never felt cold in Winter nor hot in Summer and he didn't know why. An answer that seemed to have not satisfied the annoying girl, since she had made and gifted him a pair of unseemly horn warmers.

He held them in his hands, the knots sloppy yet tight. The pattern was off and he's certain there were two different shades of green in the same area. They were ugly, plain and simple. But they were something other than a grotesque or a gargoyle cruelly ripped from their post. Useless, priceless gems he had no need for or the rare foolish gift of iron weapons and accessories. The black yarn was too thick, almost swallowing the designs made with the green yarn. Both colors pressed so close that the black seemed greenish in the right light.

Just as Yuu's eyes would.

He knew the Crowley girl's eyes were black, a brown so dark and deep that they mimicked a starless new moon sky mixed with the dying breath of a sunset. But when…when she looked him in the eyes…they almost seemed to leech the green from his own.

“…Lilia.” A beat of silence before the older fae gave a questioning hum, “Yuu's been sick before right?”

“…” Lilia perks up, turning to face Malleus directly as he notices he had opened Yuu’s present, “…Um…yes, a few times before. Why do you ask?”

“…Does…does she feel better soon? She isn’t sick for long, right?”

“…” Lilia smiles, stepping closer and ruffling the hair in the space between Malleus’s horns with a giggle, “I'm sure she will better quicker than you expect! Your little friend will be right as rain and back in the palace for playdates before you know it!”

Malleus pouts, slapping his guardian’s hands away and trying to smooth his ruffled hair. The woolen tubes in his hands not helping in the slightest as they only made his hair more frizzy, “I don’t want her back here! I just don’t want to hear about the bothersome thing dying!” He stands, forgoing his other presents but keeping the ugly warmers locked in his grasp unknowingly, “I’m going to bed! Even when she isn’t around, she manages to ruin everything…”

Floating, Lilia flipped himself upside down, pinching at a furious Malleus’s cheek, “Aw~! You do like her!”

“NO! I DON’T!”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #yuu oc #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #silver vanrouge #malleus & yuu #malleus x yuu #manhwa au

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wangxianficfinder · 1 month

Text

I'm in the mood for...

Aug 21st

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1. hii! ITMF fics where the cultivation world finds out the truth about the Wen remnants in burial mounds either through a memory viewing/array spying thing at a discussion conference or someone personally visiting the burial mounds and sees the truth for themselves. Some of the fics I've enjoyed that has this: A Step in the Wrong Direction by pupeez4eva, Revealing Truth by DreamNightmare, The Path by Seastar98, Green-gege Saves a lot of Lives by Eternal_writes, Righteous at a Cost by thunderwear

Teen Project to Change the World by animeloverhomura (Not Rated, WIP, 841k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, Watching the Show, With a bit of the Manhua and Book thrown in, BAMF WWX, Fix-It, JGS is his own warning, Attractive WWX, Homophobia, disturbing imagery)

Misunderstood by Silver_Flame_2724 (M, 250k, WIP, WangXian, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Heavy Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Canon-Typical Violence, Self-Worth Issues)

Discordant Rhapsody by nirejseki (T, 49k, LQR & WWX, wangxian, JC & WWX, WQ & WWX & WN, LWJ & LQR & LXC, canon divergence, fix-it, hurt/comfort, trauma, politics, protective LQR, protective LWJ, protective WWX, LQR centric, whump, angst)

Grave dirt by esama (T, 92k, WangXian, canon divergence, yiling wei sect au, demonic cultivation, farming, found family, pre-slash, politics, fix-it of sorts)

while covered in mud by merthurlin (T, 12k, NHS & WWX, NHS & NMJ, NHS & Wen remnants, mentioned wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, NHS goes farming and Hates It)

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2. Hi! I could have sworn there were reaction fics where both the older wangxian and younger wangxian were there but I can't find any right now, could you help me?

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3. Hi!!!!! Itmf request for any fics where LWJ is uber powerful and pampers the hell out of WWX but the focus isn't on smut? I don't mind sex being included,I just don't want it to be 90% of the fic or the driving plot point! Thank you!!! <3

我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 84k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan)

願陛下 | by his majesty's decree by sweetlolixo (E, 40k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Concubine WWX, Harems, Pining LWJ, LWJ is not a dragon in this one but he descended from them :), Childhood Sweethearts (sort of), Romance, minimal angst, Happy Ending, NHS & WWX are concubine BFFs, LWJ has NO EYES for anyone besides WWX don’t worry the harem is only for the plot setting, Fantasy, Pregnant WWX, Possessive LWJ, Fluff)

To Deliver an Heir by cerbykerby (E, 49k, WangXian, slight dubcon/noncon but wangxian are into it, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Heat Sex, Knotting, Royalty Medical, Emperor LWJ, Physician WWX, Mpreg, Postpartum Depression, Breeding, Creampie, LWJ literally cannot stop himself from coming in WWX, Breastfeeding)

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4. Any good outside pov fics? ITMF any fic where a character sees wangxian's bond or is surprised at how much wwx can get away with irt the rules with lwj. Just... Idrc about the plot, I just wanna see some reactions to wangxian lol! Preferably not a modern or no cultivation au tho, I love the canon universe too much!!

pitfalls of greed by glitteringmoonlight (T, 3k, WangXian, POV Outsider, BAMF WWX, Kidnapping, Violence, YLLZ WWX, not exactly but the vibes are there, Post-Canon)

The following are time travel fics but involve outsiders being astonished by Wei Wuxian & Lan Wangji's behavior towards each other

trouble with time by cloudpd (T, 5k, WangXian, Time Travel, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, POV Outsider, Humor, POV JC, he's so fed up with wangxian, rightfully so, wangxian are shameless, kind of crack, JC's inner dialogue for this whole fic is just: what the fuck, POV LXC, because LXC deserves to be subjected to gross wangxian as well!!, the third chapter is LJY going "WWX rights!!", and that's all im going to say about that, horny wangxian time travel: the thrilling conclusion)

Wait, What? by MarbleGlove (G, 1k, WangXian, Time Travel, POV Outsider)

the world is but a stage for the two of us by MandMandM (Not Rated, 10k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Established Relationship, Shameless WangXian)

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5. Hello, can i get wangxian fic recs where meng yao is a good guy and close friends with wei wuxian? canonverse, modern day, etc doesn't matter. I'd also love wangxian recs where they adopt jingyi please <3

Meng Yao becomes more like a brother to Wei Ying than a close friend so I hope these are okay:

what builds a home by Stratisphyre (T, 45k, WangXian, MY & WWX, Canon Divergence, Adopted WWX, POV Multiple, warning for JGS behaving exactly as expected, child endangerment, Brother Feels, Minor Character Death, [Podfic] Cold read of "what builds a home" by Stratisphyre by KeriArentikaiPods (KeriArentikai))

and

Debts of a Child Part 2 by Hauntcats (M, 111k, WangXian, YZY Bashing, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, JC Bashing, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters., hurt no comfort for Jiang siblings.) (link in 8C)

Meng Yao vs. the Board of the Homeowner's Association Series by Ariaste (M/T, 119k, WIP, XiYao, WangXian, Modern AU, Established Relationship, xiyao and wangxian are both already married, Family Feels, Domestic Fluff, Family Bonding, Slice of Life, Discussions of Past Trauma, wwx's canonical kinks, HOAverse)

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6. Hello! I finished reading Digging Graves by nirejseki so i am itmf any fics where someone asks/begs wei wuxian to bring someone back to life/turn someone they loved who died into a fierce corpse. Thanks :D

some good mistakes by Lise (T, 18k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Road trips, rescue Missions, Hurt/Comfort, Awkward Conversations, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, [Podfic] some good mistakes by kisahawklin)

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7. Hi! for the next itmf, i was wondering if there are any fics where wei wuxian gets his core back after giving it to jiang cheng? not him cultivating a new core but getting his original core back

i just find that idea fascinating. thank you for your help always!!

A Child’s Wish by Hauntcats (Not rated, 13k, wangxian, WWX & Wen remnants, Celestial meddling, Not JC Friendly, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone gets what they deserve, Age Regression/De-Aging, Child LWJ)

💖 Return to Sender by Thesaurus_with_no_words (M, 73k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, BAMF WWX , WangXian Get a Happy Ending, YLLZ WWX, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Not Everyone Dies, canon JC characteristics, Temporary Amnesia, Partial Memory Loss, Literal Emotional Manipulation, Unreliable Narrator, Unreliable Narrator WWX, they are all unreliable ok, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon typical horror and gore, Slow Burn)

The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Canon Divergence)

Can’t Tell Me Nothin by natacup82 (T, 35k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Family Feels, Communication, BAMF Women)

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8. Hello! itmf these three types of fics:

A) canonverse, Madam Lan lives, wangxian (i didnt know madam lan lives was a tag now I need to see how her existence in canon can change the storyline and wangxian as a whole)

B) Yiling Wei Sect fics (could be wangxian or other wei wuxian M/M ships)

C) Fics where Wei Wuxian takes disciples (whether as Yiling Wei sect Yiling Patriarch or any other reason... preferably xue yang or mo xuanyo)

8A)

💖 An Unexpected Visitor by Hauntcats (G, 8k, QHJ/Madam Lan, wangxian, fix-it of sorts, not Jiang friendly, not jin friendly, happy ending)

Every Mother's Son by Chrononautical (T, 11k, WangXian, Madam Lán Lives, Madam Lán Deserves Better, Madam Lán Leaves Cloud Recesses, Madam Lan rescues women from abusive husbands in feudal Japan and honestly that's so valid of her, mentions of rape/non-con between Madam Lan & Qingheng-Jun)

no step had trodden black by Stratisphyre (T, 32k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, JYL/JZX, canon divergence, madam lan lives, past rape, golden core reveal, hurt/Comfort, referenced to attempted suicide & suicidal thoughts, canon-typical violence)

8B)

🔒 a star called sun by thelastdboy (E, 120k, wangxian, SL/XXC, JC & JYL & WWX, JYL & LWJ, WWX & WN & WQ, JYL/JZX, Canon Divergence after Xuanwu Cave, Fall of Lotus Pier, But worse!, Power Imbalance, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Not Everyone Dies AU, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Miscommunication, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Major Character Injury, Loss of Limbs, Chronic Illness, Seizures, WWX’s Three Months in the Burial Mounds, Wēn Remnants Live, Wēn Remnants Deserve Better, WWX Creates a Sect | Yílíng Wèi Sect, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Hurt/Comfort, Selectively Mute LWJ, Service Animals, Crows)

body and soul by TooSel (E, 41k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Marriage Proposal, Everyone Lives AU, Cultivation Sect Politics, Yílíng Wèi Sect AU, Adoption, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Grave dirt by esama (T, 92k, WangXian, canon divergence, yiling wei sect au, demonic cultivation, farming, found family, pre-slash, politics, fix-it of sorts)

💖🔒 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Mutual Pining, EXTREME SLOWBURN, the inherent eroticism of the forehead ribbon, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, neither wwx nor lwj want to be Perceived, but sorry kids! it’s gonna happen!, rated E but the the NSFW stuff doesn’t begin until chapter 19!, bottom LWJ in chapter 20 and 27, Mojo’s post)

Run Off The World by Sapphire_Roses (M, 302k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, SL/XXC, WIP, Not Everyone Dies AU, Canon Divergence, Wen Remnants Live, Flashbacks, YLLZ WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei Sect, Sect Leader WWX, Married WangXian, OCs, POV Outsider, Morally Grey Characters, (Do Take That Tag Seriously), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Developing Friendships, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Yunmeng Siblings Feels, Gusu Siblings Feels, Sibling Bonding, Pining, Character Study, Tenderness, Mild Smut, POV Alternating, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Minor Character Death) link in #8C

the sea meets the moon-blanched land by rkivees (G, 44k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Childhood Trauma, Sect Leader WWX, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WQ, Good Parent LQR, First Love, Love Confessions, minor jiang sibs appearance, Mentioned LXC, Past Child Abuse, Drunken Shenanigans, Past Violence, No Golden Core Transfer, Non-Linear Narrative)

8C)

🔒necromancy is a valid career path! Series by coslyons, Skadiseven (T, 41k, WangXian, XY & WWX & WN & WQ, Modern with Magic AU, Seattle, Necromancy, Found Family, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Gardens & Gardening, Mathematics, Running, Growing up)

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9. Heyo, this is for ITMF!

Can you rec any fics that have WWX return to his old body? Can be post-canon or during canon after his resurrection. I wanna see how people react to him being in his Glorious Beautiful Sexy self :>

Transcend by covalentbonds (not rated, 7k, WIP, WangXian, Post-Canon, Fluff and Humor, Smut, YLLZ WWX is prettiest fight me) features Wei Ying transforming into his original body and being lusted after.

Tripped at Every Step by brooklinegirl (E, 28k, WangXian) These

the hidden source is the watchful heart by o_honeybees (E, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Domesticity, Touch-Starved, Grief/Mourning, Misunderstandings, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Unresolved Sexual Tension,Eventual Smut, reflections on selfishness and selflessness) fics

This House of Ill Repute by Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (M, 13k, WangXian, First Time, Post-Canon, Getting Together) also have Wei Ying in his original body but it's not the focus of the story

Saw My Life in a Stranger's Face by timetoboldlygo (T, 27k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Married Life, Domestic Fluff, Light Angst, wwx's face changes post-canon to look like his original face, Slight Panic Attack, because lwj doesn't recognize his husband, the mortifying ordeal of not knowing your own body, the terrifying inevitability of change, taller!wwx theory)

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10. hello! thank you for the work you do.. do you have recs for novel canon only (no cql) fics?

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11. hello this is for itmf! do you have any fics where sizhui remembers wei wuxian after the fever/doesn't lose his early memories, or lan wangji making the effort to talk about wei wuxian to sizhui? thank you!

although my mind is young, it is not gentle by everythingispoetry ( T, 27k, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Disability, Parenthood, Growing Up, Family Dynamics, Character Study, Self-Discovery) Sizhui doesn't really know who he remembers about but there are moments of him remembering wei wuxian through dreams

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12. I was rewatching the show recently and got to the scene where the Lan juniors and LWJ all stood in front of WWX when Jin Ling approached him in the caves after the stabbing. I was wondering for ITMF if there were any fics where the juniors are protective of WWX? Preferably if Sizhui is a prominent character in the fics, but I'll take any junior being protective tbh. Thank you!

🧡 the stone-filled sea by yukla (T, 9k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, Post-Canon, senior wei defense squad, a study of the way prejudice and injustice and anger trickle down from generation to generation)

bespoke by cafecliche (G, 3k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Fluff, LSZ is a very good boy, which is specifically a tag for the fic but also just true in general, mostly novel-compliant but could easily be CQL-compliant too)

🔒 The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (T, 19k, WangXian, In-Universe RPF, Romance Novel, LJY’s sense of justice, OYZZ’s sense of romance, Featuring a surprise appearance by WWX’s oft-absent sense of shame, Look the ducklings just want their sort-of dads to be happy okay?, And it’s not like WWX or LWJ are doing a good job of ensuring their own happiness, LJY rejects canon reality and substitutes his own, highly relatable actually, Post-Canon Fix-It, primarily drama-canon with cameos from novel-canon, Podfic Available, Russian Translation Available)

one of our own by glitteringmoonlight (G, 7k, WangXian, Post-Canon, POV Outsider, 5+1 Things) has Lan Jingyi, as well as other Lans, standing up for Wei Ying.

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13. Wwx as royal prince with hidden identity

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14. Wwx gets badly hurt while protecting jzx during jl 100 day celebration

the breaking of your soul (upon my lips) by sunsandships (M, 40k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Mutual Pining, Golden Core Reveal, Happy Ending) Wei Ying gets badly injured at Qiongqi Path while protecting Jin Zixuan in chapter 8 but Wei Ying was escorting betrothal gifts from the Jin, rather than attending Jin Ling's celebration.

Cradle by Dragonesque (T, 196k, WIP, Canon Divergenc, Adopted children, Yiling Wei Sect, BAMF WWX) Wwx gets badly hurt while protecting jzx during jl 100 day celebration - cradle by dragonesque on ao3 (and its inspiration fic) both feature wwx getting badly hurt and origins of yiling wei sect

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15. I finished reading a wangxian oneshot in which lan xichen tries to get wei wuxian in his bed but fails and so...itmf lan xichen/wei wuxian, nie mingjue/wei wuxian, wen ruohan/wei wuxian fic recs. Preferably complete with bottom wei wuxian if they have smut. Thank you!!

The Joke of Fate by ShallChair (E, 357k, LXC/WWX, Canon Divergence, Marriage First Love Later, Love at First Sleep, Smut, First Time, First Kiss, the Flower Banquet's timeline is before Baifeng Mountain hunt so, Comedy, a little bit humor in the lines, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, The man who succeeds in both Love and Career-LXC, Dark LXC, Dark LWJ, The Dark side mean "Fuck off Cultivation World!", The Exchange of Fate, LXC-centric, DoubleJade centric, The one who stands against the world-LXC; A/B/O, Alpha LXC, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, Mpreg, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bites, Scenting, Historical, Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Slight Drama, Bad Parent YZY, Cultivation Empire, Alpha NHS, Older NHS, The flustered Alpha and the handsome Omega, Half Lime Half Plot, YLLZ era, YLLZ WWX, The Thirsty LXC, Martial Arts AU, Wuxia AU, General WWX, Emperor LXC, Qianyuan, Kunze, Zhongyong, Enemy to lover, Concubine WWX, BAMF WWX, Precognitive Dream, the Second elopement, Wen Remnants Live, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Intervention From the Outside World, Teleportation, Sunshot Campaign, Those Days When LXC Chased After YLLZ All Over the Central Plain)

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16. itmf some wwx & jzx bonding similar to 'watch what we'll become' by glitteringmoonlight modern/canon/au it doesn't matter just give me that sweet sweet friendship/brotherly bonding

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 828k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement)

atlas in his sleepin’ by anatheme (E, 48k, WangXian, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Reincarnation, Family Reunions, Dimension Travel, temporary transmigration, Transmigrator!LWJ, Yunmeng Shuangjie Reconciliation, jzx motherhenning wwx, First Time, Sharing Clothes, Angst with a Happy Ending, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies)

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17. itmf a fic where wangxian get horny about "ruining" a hole. You know, there's penetration, or a lot of penetration, and the body is different afterwards. Idc who bottoms, omegaverse, consent, whatever. But no underage please. Thanks!

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it��s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

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y3ager · 11 months

Text

MATERIAL GIRL.

— and what do you give the girl who has everything? two rich boyfriends!

jean k. x eren y. x black!fem!reader

tags: modern au, fluff, polyamorous relationship. socialite!reader. lovergirldeepdown!reader. 4k word count. inspired by this blurb.

HAILING FROM OLD money— your father the CEO of a century old automobile brand and your mother the third generation runway model—you have seen all there is to see, worn what there is to wear, had every priceless stone dangle from your neck and fingers, and tasted the most decadent of foods. the belief that just superficial things would be enough to sway you offends you greatly. if you don’t have it, you will have it as if it’s your right at this point. it takes much more than dinner and a yacht ride to make you squeal.

and that’s what’s so tiring about the whole dating scene. the pool is filled to the brim with arrogant nepotism babies in khaki shorts and sweaters around their shoulders. they’ll never worry about a thing because daddy kisses the ass of this man and mommy grins in the face of that woman, and by god, do they make it known. if another man brags about owning original modigliani pieces over dinner, he’ll be met with an oyster shell to the eye. who are you supposed to be, some bright-eyed influencer? please. check the pedigree.

things changed when you met them, however. one in the summer, and one in the winter.

you were on the jet back home from italy when hitch, a girl you’ve known since you were a tyke, bombarded your phone with messages about christening her new penthouse with a pool party you just had to come to, lest she’d drag you there. after confirming your attendance, you rolled back over in the white leather reclining seat and pulled your silk eye mask back down, making a mental note to get your braids refreshed and place an order for a new bikini.

you’re reborn as a literal doll, the braids on the left side of your head coaxed into an intricate butterfly while the others lay flat against your scalp in faultless rows and hang low to your hipbones. white, white, white everywhere, from the nails, the strappy swimsuit, the miu miu sandals; a beautiful contrasts against your glistening ebon skin dusted with body shimmer for good measure. perfect, as usual.

hitch’s new high rise penthouse is something out of a multimillion dollar budget drama, with its dozens of crystal clear windows and modern interior. sitting far away enough from the city to avoid the hustle and bustle, but close enough to gaze at the twinkling lights, it’s practically a palace for the dreyse corporation heir.

champagne flute filled with 1820 juglar cuvée, you mingle amongst the next generation of the one percent. hitch’s friends, and your friends by proxy you assume, are a breath of fresh air. human.

but there’s one person amongst the gaggle you don’t recognize. from your spot next to the slightly tispy miss dreyse, your dark eyes glance over the rim of your ivory framed sunnies, glass rim tapping absentmindedly against lined, glossed lips. light brown mullet, slightly tanned skin, dark brown eyes...

“hitchie...” your elbow gently bumps into the blonde’s sides, snatching her out of her mild stupor. “who’s that?” you ask innocently, gesturing with your half full flute. it’s casual, inquisitive.

hitch squints a little bit, pure concentration written all over her features as she tries to put a name to the face. “oh!” when the name comes to her, her hand meets the back of your shoulder in a kinda hard slap, totally unintentional, of course. “jean, kirschtein! you know, from-” a hiccup interrupts her introduction, making her burst into a quick giggle. “-the oil company.”

the pieces begin to come together, you know the names all of the elite; the braun’s, the leonhart’s, the ackerman’s, names listed amongst yours and names you close deals with. clans with power, influence, wealth, distinction.

he, jean, is walking over now; casual with an easy stride that shows he’s in no rush, he’s confident. he pays his respects to the girl of the hour, congratulating her on her new playhouse before her attention is diverted by another guest calling her name to get her to come over there. hitch slips off, but not before discreetly tapping your lower back in excitement; an unspoken ‘get him.’

“jean,” he introduces himself, extending his hand in a polite greeting. “i wanted to speak to hitch, but i wanted to talk to you, too. you are breathtaking.” his eyes drink you in, from head to toe, even though they’ve been roaming your frame since you first caught his attention. the heir simply cannot get enough. “but you get told that a lot, yes?”

“thank you.” your lips spread into a small smile, one hand slipping into his larger one as the other pulls off your sunnies, sticking one of the arms down into your top. “i’m ___” jean bore a lean swimmer’s build, dark navy beach shorts hung low on his hips, and his tanned skin decorated with a dusting of faint, brown freckles over his body. years of private villas and yachts, no doubt. he was impossibly tall, too, you find yourself having to gently tilt your head back to see his face fully. it was cute from afar, maturely handsome up close. was that a faint hint of a mustache? it was hot.

jean repeats your name slowly, enjoying the feeling of that line of syllables rolling off his tongue. “i’d love to get to know you more. ___, you’re so beautiful. i have to impress you somehow. name it,” his other hand comes up to rest of top of yours, successfully encasing it in a gentle hold. an excuse to touch you just a little bit more. “i’ll make it happen.”

your smile becomes a grin, and your dark eyes glint mischievously under your delicate lashes. one quick test, because where’s the fun in not initiating one? you just want to see what he’d say, pick at his brain. what sweet words will he spin from his golden cords now? “but jean,” you begin softly, “what if i was the type of girl that liked a man that took control? told me we were doing this, at this time, on this day, and in my prettiest red dress?”

“it’d be rude, ___, at least in my eyes, to so quickly assume i had a right to your time, and drag you around this way and that. allow me the privilege of occupying your time, and space.”

before you can catch it, one of your expertly threaded and sculpted eyebrows quirks up in mild surprise. you beckon him a bit closer to your face with a wave of your acrylics. “good answer,” you tease, honeyed voice playful and whispery. “phone? i can put my number in, and we can talk about how you can try to romance me when i have my schedules laid out in front of me.” you watch as he fishes the device out of his shorts pocket.

you were captivating afar, but up close with your tawny skin soft, glittery, and emanating an intoxicating vanilla scent, your dark eyes glistening with mirth and playfulness… it makes jean’s body go into some type of shock, his heart plummeting to his feet and his blood running cold but racing through his veins at the same time.

“well then,” you chime as you save your digits into the millionaire’s phone, the contact simply your name with no bells or whistles to adorn it. “i hope we can get to know each soon, mr. kirschtein.”

jean thinks that pearly white smile will be the death of him.

…

every year, no matter what, your father throws his annual christmas party. you long assumed that it brings him a special type of happiness because your normally humble father goes all out for them, each year being better than the last. he flies out the best chefs in the world to cook for hours, orders the tallest, greenest tree for the foyer, and has the house cleaned til someone could check their reflection in the perfect marble floors. when it comes to this, the man skimps on nothing.

you take it upon yourself to make the most of it, requesting custom design dresses from the most exclusive sewing tables over in Europe, shoes fresh from the runway. only the very best for you, the heiress, the crème de la crème, the girl who has never known the word no.

“dance with me?”

you had been absentmindedly swirling your wine glass by its delicate stem, attempting to place its origin (red, tart-like with its cranberry flavor and a strange orange bite near the end), when you’re approached. once you turn your head, you’re meet with striking green eyes and a sharp little smile.

“you looked bored, and that’s what these parties are for, right?”

eren yeager, the german-american son of grisha and carla yeager, 2nd generation genius neurosurgeon with a net worth in the 7 figures, and the just-as-talented, third generation wedding gown designer. according to the rumor mill, after graduating in the top of class in one of those ivy’s upstate, he gallivanted across the country (no, the world) as the not-so-favorable yeager son. of course, there are entirely too many eyes on the yeager clan for grisha to do too much of anything and a son can do no wrong in a doting mother’s eyes; so eren is left free to his disagreeable desires. everyone wonders how long that will last.

steely dark eyes and your naturally neutral face does nothing to deter him. you decide to indulge him, slipping your hand into his and raising up, allowing him the luxury of whisking you to the dance floor. “i guess i don’t see why not.”

“great.” his hand is soft and a little cool against your own, the woody, cedar notes of penhaligon the inimitable gently wafting off his skin and pressed shirt. unbeknownst to you, a few pairs of eyes bore into yeager’s back. the arrogance he has to whisk you away so early into the party, especially with it being his first one. if eren was the wiser, he’d revel in their envy.

there’s a handful of other couples waltzing across the floor when you two arrive. your fingers thread through his as his free hand finds a respectful place on your waist, blessed with the feeling of the smooth skin exposed by the opening in your dress.

no matter how much money your father makes, he’s an old black man at heart. old r&b plays from the expensive sound system he had installed, tevin campbell’s can we talk playing through the speakers. the irony of the situation isn’t lost on you. nonetheless, you hum nonchalantly to the tune and glide around the floor with your partner.

“i gotta ask, do you enjoy these things? or does your dad put you up to it?” your arm is held above your head and you’re spun around in a quick circle before being guided back to eren’s chest. face still impartial, you nod your head towards your five o clock, the wavy blonde strands dangling from your delicate updo tickling your face. a table teems with gifts for you and you only, bachelors from afar vying for a wisp of your attention with shiny, expensive gifts. they fail to realize that a girl like yourself isn’t so easily bought. but, it’s their money not yours, and few things in life bring you greater joy than pulling ribbon and wrapping paper from luxury brand boxes.

“of course i do. i’m not ‘put up’ to anything. i dress up, i get my presents. what isn’t there to love?” manicured hand splayed across the man’s back, you’re dipped towards the floor. you’re one to give credit where credit is due, yeager is a good dancer; the confidence in his movements isn’t a lame front and he maintains the delicate balance between taking the lead and dragging his poor partner around. since this is suddenly an interview, you have questions of your own. “when i have time to go through them, will i find your name on anything?”

“of course you will. be pretty damn rude to show up to a party empty handed. especially when it might be my only chance to get a gift for the princess.” a name your normally cringe and scrunch your nose at sounds surprisingly nice passing by his lips. he grinned boyishly. “no hints.”

“i can wait. for your sake, i hope it’s no ring. it’s going straight into the garbage.” just the thought of such a “present” makes your blood want to boil. who raised these “men”? i mean honestly, what brain dead fool buys a ring for a girl who didn’t even know his face? and expected her to wear it? you would sooner die and go to hell first.

“no way someone is that dumb. you’re fucking with me.”

“what do i have to lie for?”

"well, taking a look at these guests, i take it back. some of these bastards look dumb enough to pull a stunt like that." eren scans the array of guests over your shoulder, and you can't even feign offense for your father's sake. scanning over a guestlist for former flames and explaining why you didn't want them in attendance would take too much time, and you really didn't feel like explaining "relationship troubles" to your dad of all people. loved him as much as you did that really wasn't his business. besides, watching them shiver and skulk away from your disinterested and annoyed glance made up for everything. "are you a betting woman?"

"did you waste grisha's money on a degree in journalism?" your eyebrows furrow and eren laughs again.

"you're funny, ___. most of our peers aren't so witty. and if it so pleases her majesty, i want to bet on the odds of one of these dumbasses putting a ring under your tree." eren's green eyes stare down into yours, gleaming with playfulness, mirth, and confidence. "what do you say? someone does, and we can go on a date, just us two, and you can smile and laugh a little bit."

"and if there's no ring?"

"i'll leave you alone and fall in place in your long string of broken hearts."

luck has always been on your side. look at the family you were in born in, the riches that are your birthright! the universe has never dealt you a bad hand and surely wouldn’t start now. and worse case scenario, you hang out with one of the few men that can mark your plump lips twitch in the shadow of a giggle. “fine.” your brown eyes meet his green, and neither of the waver. “deal.”

several days later, gifts from around the globe surround you. handbags, shoes, dresses, envelopes bursting with cash; you’ll have to tell your dad you need some walls knocked down in your already spacious closet to make room for more. amidst all this, though, a godforsaken ring is gripped between your fingers. if looks could kill, it would melting and dripping from your grasp. holding it like it’s contaminated, you snap a picture to send to yeager:

‘i’m free the 3rd weekend and tuesdays.’

…

as temperatures rise again, you spend the next few months allowing jean kirstein and eren yeager the luxury of whisking you away when your schedule permits.

the former is a bit... old fashioned, in a good way! you're led off to slow paced, cozy dates; the two of you roaming italian streets, attending shows in their original opera houses, he never strayed you out of the bubble you two were born in. it was casual, soft, predictable in a good way.

eren on the other hand, spent money like it would burn through his pocket if it sat there too long. he spent money like a man who just felt its crispness in his palms and was addicted to the feeling, knowing deep down it'd never stop flowing for him. you're frequenting the night scene in your tight, revealing dress, his firm hands on your hips as you two grind to the pounding beats. shopping spree dates that lasted all day, if your hand so much as brushed it, it was bought, packaged up, and in the car. spontaneous flights abroad, stealing you away for weekends. it was exhilarating.

they both provide the things you're looking for. jean is the type of man you imagine yourself settling down with one day, when the whole young and turnt shtick melts away into something more domestic and slow paced. he has gentle hands and treats you so delicately, softly. his reliability will be something you can learn to lean on and need.

eren could possibly be that type of man too, but for now he has a fire, impulses that keep you oh so entertained. having everything in the world gets boring, and eren brings that spark that you crave.

you ruminate at your vanity. hair tied down and tucked away under a silky soft bonnet, you run your gua sha across your moisturized face, long sweeping strokes that end with a gentle tug. eye masks rest on your face, your feet clothed by a exfoliating mask, and a fluffy robe envelopes your body. you stare at your reflection, you're the only one who gets you.

you're really at a crossroads. you choosing between something is unheard of. you're ___, you get everything you deserve and want tenfold. you like jean, you like eren. the way they look at you with such adoration, how their hands and lips caress your body, the sweets words they declare, and how every promise they've made to you remains unbroken, oh how they must certainly feel the same for you.

as greedy as it may make you sound, you want both. your cake and to eat it too. two of your richest peers fawning over you day in and day out, them caring for you and you caring for them. them loving you, and you loving them. it’s a dream that will be your reality.

…

after a long day at sea on one of many jean’s yachts, the sun beaming down on not only the beautiful blue water but the two of you, entangled in each other’s arms, docks at the private harbor.

you’re running your fingers through your french curl braids as jean talks to one of the dock’s attendees, slightly sleepy from your sunbathing session. the gentle breeze of the day brings the smell of saltwater up to your nostrils and you hear seagulls squawking from spots on the wooden posts. obviously, a day at the water leaves you craving seafood, juicy lobster tails with a decadent pasta on the side. your daydreams of the soon to be dinner are interrupted by an extremely familiar “yo!”

heads turn, and it’s none other than eren striding across the dock’s walkway towards where you and jean are standing. his green eyes shine at the sight of you, the hot pink of your two piece bikini a perfect contrast to your skin and showing curves and bends he’d worship for the rest of his life. oh, and jean’s here too.

another woman might falter, her heart catching in her throat and sweat beading up on her flesh as her suitors stand before her, but you’re the epitome of calm, brown eyes smoothly meeting eren’s. there’s no ring on your finger, and besides, you know what you’re after right now.

“haven’t seen you in a while, yeager.” knowing it’d be cliche, jean fights against the urge to wrap a protective arm around your waist. “done gallivanting the world?”

“seen all there is to see kirschtein, and you say that like it’s insult. what use is money if it just sits in accounts collecting dust.” eren looks at you again, god you’re a sight for sore eyes. “especially when there’s a woman like her to spend it on.”

jean’s eyes can’t help but to roll. what a cornball. “well, good chat, but ___ and i are on a little time crunch. i’m taking her to niccolo’s, especially after being on the water.” his hand slips into yours, taking charge but not tugging you along. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like this side of him.

“well, now that you mention it, i could go for some niccolo’s too.” eren’s grin is shit-eating. what a cute dynamic these too have, one you know has a bit more bite to it when a lady isn’t in their presence. “how about i join? matter of fact, my treat.”

“that won’t be necessary.”

“i insist.”

“you two would argue all day if i let you,” you interrupt this small tussle, and now their attention is back on you. a manicured hand raises up to cover your small yawn. “like an old married couple.”

“it’s all in good fun,” eren’s shoulder nudges jean, and if jean had lasers for eyes, the youngest heir to yeager fortune would be a pile of dust before your feet. “we go way back.”

jean ignores him entirely, but eren finds it hilarious. “what he’s suggesting is insane, ___.”

you give a gentle shrug of your shoulder, coyness at the ready. “it’s nothing serious, it’s a lunch date between friends, and i bet you’d like to catch up.”

jean’s jaw tenses. he turns to you completely as eren looks on curiously. “i think it’s a sign that you say that, ___. i’ve been meaning to have this conversation with you for a while. yes, we are friends, but i want to be more with you.”

this moment, with the waves crashing across the dock, the sun illuminating the two of you, jean clasping your hands tight, would’ve been a soft, tender, picturesque one had it not been for eren’s booming laughter.

“oh, so now this is a pissing contest, huh, jean? well, since we’re confessing feelings, i have my own to speak for you.” his outburst breaks your gaze, and you and jean both turn in unison. “___, i want you to be my girlfriend, and i’ve felt this way for a while. i’ve been waiting for just the perfect moment, but i can’t let this jack-off take this one for himself right?” comically, you’re put between them, each of your hands in theirs.

“i…” this takes tact, a delicate way of stringing together words and honestly, with their eyes boring into yours, you find yourself falling just a touch short.

“i respect any decision you make,” jean assures.

“___, i will do anything for you,” eren promises.

any decision. anything.

you bit your bottom lip, hands minutely twitching in their clasp. you lean in neither direction, at the center of them. “any?”

and then there’s a beat of silence. and everyone’s looking at each other. this feels like a scene in a sitcom, something that should be accompanied with a laugh-track, but there’s no closed mouth that’s been fed.

“because in the time i’ve gotten to know both of you, i’ve begin to care for both of you. and i’ve made great memories with the two of you. i know i could make even more. i don’t value any time spent with you over each other’s.” your voice shakes just a tiny, tiny bit, vulnerability creeping in. “you too make me… so happy.”

eren cuts the silence first, ever the impulsive one. “i’ll do it.”

“you cut me off,” jean quickly interjects. eren really puts him on his toes, ignites an aggressive fire deep within, steps on just the right nerves. “i’m doing it too.”

“i said i’d do anything.”

“and i said i’d respect any decision.”

“okay!” you voice crashes down like a gavel. “okay. i’m glad that you two are hearing me out,” a smile tugs at your glossed lips, this feels so easy and lighthearted, a stark contrast from the seriousness you impose upon yourself. already, you feel yourself loosening up, because the two of them bring out the true, relaxed you like nothing else can. “but for our sanity the bickering needs to come down a notch before we all kill each other, yeah?”

two strong pairs of arms envelop you. it takes some effort, but you wrap your own around the two of them. three heads together, you find yourselves laughing. a weight eases of your shoulders, but not because you got your way, but because you know this is the death of a mask created by the circle you were born in. a mask that hides the love you can feel in an attempt to guard it.

“well, we won’t kill you.”

nov 13. 2021. nov 9. 2023. i nearly gave up. i almost threw in the towel. but goddammit she’s done. praise god.

#eren jaeger x black reader #eren x black reader #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x black reader #jean kirschstein x black reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean x reader #jean x black reader #🏙.aotmodern #🧸.aotfluff

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daechwitatamic · 7 months

Text

Of Ruin: Chapter 12 || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

Section Warnings: language, tense situations with dangerous vampires, violence: vampire biting and feeding!!, lots of blood!!!, kissing wc: 4.8k

You spend the ride back to the palace in silence. You can’t even watch the beautiful landscape roll by, because Taehyung keeps the curtains closed as a precaution.

At the palace, he walks you back to your rooms. He doesn’t kiss you goodbye; you aren’t sure if you expected him to or not. Instead he takes your hand, glances up the hall where a team of guards wait for him, and gives it two quick squeezes before striding away, his footfalls echoing in the stone corridor.

You wait anxiously in the main room until the door opens, Namjoon looking just as relieved to see you as you are to see him.

You wonder if Jimin and the guard who took the main road made it back okay.

You don’t tell Namjoon about this kiss, nor about Taehyung’s comments about wanting you to stay.

You do fill him in on the meeting with the Scores, and Taehyung’s tentative plan for his reign.

“That’s ambitious,” Namjoon admits, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “He’ll have his work cut out for him.”

“He’s determined,” you say, somewhat absently. “I think the Scores might be on board. They’re not immediately objecting, anyway.”

“Would you stay?” Namjoon asks, dark eyes on yours inquisitively. “As, like, a representative for above?”

You shrug, averting your gaze, lest he spy your secrets in your eyes. “If he wanted me,” you say. “Of course, I’d try to help.”

Namjoon hums in response, meaning he doesn’t want to say what he really thinks.

You can’t find it in you to care.

About half the Scores return to court. No more attacks come. Satuel tells you, when you inquire, that that coach had been stopped by riders on the main road, but when they found only Jimin, they made no trouble.

You fall back into your routine. You spend your days reading through the notes Namjoon took at the archives. You spend your nights practicing magic, branching out from defensive spells and beginning to dabble with practical magic, and the odd offensive move.

Over the next week you break your lamp three more times while practicing, and you try to counter Taehyung’s curse - unsuccessfully - just as many.

The first two fizzle out and go nowhere, unceremonious and anticlimactic. The third one goes wrong so immediately that Namjoon physically yanks you away from Taehyung to break the connection, black smoke rising from each of your palms as you break away.

Taehyung heals your burns, the first time he’s touched you since you said goodbye after kissing in the carriage.

You feel stalled out; you feel your wheels spinning.

“Taehyung,” you say heavily, one of the evenings he comes to check your nonexistent progress. “We’re still missing something. Something we thought we had worked out isn’t right. I’m telling you. Something’s messed up.”

“What do you need?” he asks, looking back at you seriously. “More time at the archives? I could take you back -”

“I need to see the curse at work,” you say determinedly. It’s been over a month since you’d last had this argument, since the prince had put his foot down definitively. “I’ve been saying it since the beginning, and it’s still true. I have to.”

“We discussed this already,” he says tightly. “I won’t allow it.”

“Maiesti,” you say desperately. “We’ve run out of other choices. No book will tell me what I need - the curse will. If I can’t crack this, everything else you’re working on will never happen. You can’t do anything you’ve planned until this is solved.”

He stares at you, and it’s plain on his face how much he hates that you’re right.

“I can keep myself safe,” you say. Beside you, Namjoon murmurs your name, apprehensive. “You’ve seen me do it. I’m better now than I was then, I’ve practiced and practiced - I can do it, I can keep you back.”

The prince looks like he wants to vomit. “I can’t,” he croaks. “I can’t allow it.”

“We have to -”

“What if the worst happens?” he snaps, breaking. “What if I kill you? Seriously - that is a serious question! Think about that. I could kill you.”

“I’ll send you through a wall,” you say, half-joking. But you both know you can.

He shakes his head. “It’s too risky.”

“The bigger risk is never breaking the curse,” you say. “Think how much is at stake, now. You can only hold off the Scores for so long before they move back to the offensive. War is on the line, Taehyung, is that what you want for your people? Is my life worth more to you than the good of Infracticus? It shouldn’t be.”

He swears in his people’s ancient language, turning away from you, rubbing his face roughly, as he often does when overwhelmed.

Namjoon takes this opportunity to say your name again, quietly.

“I know what decision I’m making,” you say stonily, to both of them. “I know the risks, I know the dangers. We have to. We’ve come to a point where this is the only solution.”

“Fine,” Taehyung snaps, finally, turning back to you, eyes narrowed and mouth tight. “Fine. Is tonight too soon?”

You blanch. “Tonight?”

He looks at you, pleading. “Please. I can’t go through a whole day knowing it’s coming. The sooner we do this, the less time I’ll spend sick with worry. So - can you? Will you?”

“Yeah,” you say shakily. “Yes. Yes, we can do it tonight.”

“Fine,” he says, and when his voice is cold this time, you know it’s because he’s scared. “Satuel will bring you before midnight.”

He leaves without goodbye, as he used to do.

Namjoon says your name, more insistent this time.

“I know,” you tell him. “Believe me. You trust me, right?”

“I think so,” he says, which makes you laugh.

“It’s going to be fine,” you tell him.

—

The room Prince Taehyung spends his nights in is nicer than you’d envisioned, though not as nice as his actual wing of the palace.

Prince Taehyung sits at a wooden table, legs crossed so that one ankle rests on his knee. He eyes you coldly when the guards let you in the room.

Once, you would have seen his coldness and felt small. You know better now.

“It’s going to be okay,” you tell him, as gently as you can.

He swallows, looks at the floor. Then he rises, walking towards you. He stops before you, raises his gaze to meet yours. His eyes, irises white and human, dance with something too complicated to name.

“How can you be willing to do this?” he asks, something broken in his voice. “How, when you know the risks?”

Something in you breaks too, a dam that has been holding back every foolish, dead-end, illogical feeling you’ve been having these past months: because I love you, you think. Because I love you, and I want to save you.

You don’t say it, don’t say anything, but he’s watching your face carefully, and you think maybe he hears you anyway, somehow. He raises one shaky hand and cups your face, so light it’s barely there.

He kisses you chastely, gently, then shuffles backwards, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Three minutes,” he says. “Put the wall up now. Do it now.”

“Taehyung,” you say, but you have nothing to follow it. You do as he says, pulsing your palms towards the floor between you, feeling the magic swim through you.

You both watch the clock, together, in silence.

He paces, and you miss the moment he leaves you, leaving only the beast. But you notice his movements grow choppier, and you watch the exact second that he smells you.

His head wheels around, fangs displayed, crackling grumbles beginning to emit from deep in his chest. He stalks towards you, elbows bent up behind him, until he hits your wall. He bounces backwards almost comically, then snarls louder, eyes narrowed at you. They swirl, like pools of ink.

He tries again, slower this time, pressing his hands to the wall he cannot see, investigative. You try to breathe evenly, to ensure the magic holds. His gaze snaps back to you, his mind putting together the pieces and figuring that you are causing the problem.

He snarls at you, jaw snapping, lip curled, cursing your existence in the ancient language of the Infracti, which you aren’t sure he’s even fluent in when he’s himself.

You put your shoulders back and walk closer to the wall you made.

“If you want something,” you tell him firmly, “then you need to ask me in my language.”

The beast freezes in place, eyes locking on you. The curl in his lip relaxes just slightly, and he blinks at you. He cocks his head just slightly and blinks again. It’s like you can see him thinking, cogs in his head turning.

Then, voice raspy and entirely unlike Taehyung’s low, honeyed tones, he grits out, “Drink?”

Your heart pounds.

“Not too much,” you say, still firm, like you’re giving directions to an unruly toddler. “If you take too much, I’ll die, and then you never get more.”

His head cocks to the other side. His brows furrow. “Small?” he asks.

“Very small,” you say. Your legs don’t even feel like jelly beneath you - they feel like nothing, so numb with fear that they could be gone and you wouldn’t know. “From here.”

You hold out your wrist, veins up, and look at him. “You understand?”

“Yes,” he says, licking his lips in anticipation.

“I’m putting the wall down,” you tell him. “Come slowly.”

He waits, and you do. When you nod, he comes forward on that jolting, uneven gait, as if it’s screwing up his whole balance to move at a human pace for your sake.

He takes your arm in his hands, nails biting into your skin as he forgets his inhuman strength, and you grimace.

“Only a little,” you remind him, heart pounding so hard in your ribcage that it’s almost painful.

His swirling, black eyes land on yours as he brings his mouth to your wrist. You feel like you can’t breathe, the anticipation is so strong. A detached part of you knows that he could get one taste and lose this tentative control, that this could be your last moment.

You sort of wish you’d called your parents before coming.

You cry out when his fangs sink into you, instinctively flinching away, but he holds you so tight that you stumble closer to him instead. The pain is bone-deep, not a shallow pinch like a shot - and that’s frightening, your systems telling your brain that there’s danger, that something is wrong. You start to struggle, to try fruitlessly to push him away, alarms going haywire in your mind, and then -

And then the venom hits you.

The pain is eradicated - or, at least, you don’t notice it anymore. Instead, a high comes over you, and you feel like you’re floating away, the room going quite bright as you feel the unfamiliar and startling sensation of blood being pulled towards the wound as Taehyung sucks at it, his tongue running circles over and around the puncture marks.

“Enough,” you manage to say, your voice seeming disembodied to you, coming from nowhere. The beast lifts his mouth and snarls at you, before returning to lap at the rivulets of red that run over your wrist bone.

“You said small,” you remind him, trying to stay grounded. “Let me breathe, let me make sure I’m okay, and then you can have more.”

He utters a sentence at you in his language, hands tightening on your arm to the point they hurt.

“Back off, or I’ll knock you back,” you warn him. His eyes narrow as he processes the threat. It might be empty - you’re not sure you can do it one-handed.

Then, for just a second, his eyes flash human again, the whites showing. It’s him, your Taehyung, and he releases your arm so frantically it’s as if it burns to touch it. He takes two steps back, eyes wide and frightened. You blink, and he’s gone. The beast is back again, that quickly, frustration coming back over his features.

You throw the wall up as quickly as you can.

It doesn’t work.

He’s on you in an instant, so quickly you don’t see him move. Your back hits the wall behind you and you let out an audible grunt. He cages you in, a hand on either shoulder, pressing you into place against the stone, and he uses his tongue to swipe along his fangs, cleaning remnants of your blood from them, as he looks you over. Slowly, he leans his weight on you, his hips pinning your hips, his chest pinning your chest, his hands firm on the fronts of your shoulders.

Your breath comes in and out in shaky waves. You’re not sure you’d still be standing if he weren’t holding you in place. You try not to think about all the places your bodies are touching, the weight of him over you, the stuttering rhythm of your heartbeat, the fiery look that he settles over you. You try not to think about how precarious this is, how easily he could let go of his control and simply tear your throat out in one seamless motion.

He sniffs at you, fangs displayed and ready, as if trying to find the place most palatable. Your heart pounds desperately, and beneath his inhumanly strong hold, you can feel your muscles shaking. Your body knows you are about to die, even if your mind still wants to lie to you about it, to pretend otherwise.

He chooses a spot near the base of your neck, near the front, and laves at the spot with his tongue, giving a happy hum as your pulse thunders visibly over the inch of skin. You close your eyes, feeling your whole body shudder in terror.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, barely able to give volume to the word.

The beast pulls back and looks at you, reacting to the sound of its name. Somewhere in there, he recognizes it. Somewhere in there, he recognizes you; you watch as he draws even further back, then removes one hand from your shoulders and reaches for your uninjured wrist instead.

He lifts your limb to his mouth easily and you flinch before anything even happens.

“Here?” he asks, in that gritty, not-Taehyung voice, and your eyes snap to his.

He’s asking permission.

You are not going to die. Maybe.

“Small,” you utter. Then, since it seemed to work a second ago to use his name, to remind him who he is, “You promised, Taehyung. A small one.”

The puncture hurts - enough that you cry out again, the pain deep and throbbing, the cry morphing into a sob of agony - but the high comes quickly, melting it away. The sensation of blood being pulled to your wrist is less frightening this time, and you breathe deeply, trying to assess how dizzy you are, if you need to tell him to stop yet.

“Enough,” you say, and he licks one last stripe over the wound before taking his mouth away. Blood smears around his lips and down his chin, but his black eyes watch yours, obedient, waiting. His chest heaves as he waits, like it’s hard work.

Maybe it is.

Maybe it is only a sliver of Taehyung’s humanity shining through that is keeping you alive right now.

You both wait, him still pressing you to the wall by one shoulder. You breathe, closing your eyes for a long inhale and then opening them again.

Taehyung’s eyes are human, and he opens his mouth as if to speak. He blinks. They go black again. Whatever comes out of his mouth isn’t human.

He presses closer again, raising the wrist he just bit up to his face and inhaling deeply. He sticks out his tongue and licks over it once more, then continues to trace up your forearm with his tongue, past the crook of your elbow, stopping when he finds the pulsing point of the brachial artery in your fleshy upper arm.

“Here?” he asks again. He shudders, blinks, and your Taehyung looks at you.

This time he manages to speak, all in a rush, before he’s sucked under again. “You should run,” he tells you, breathless, and then only snarls fall from his lips as his eyes flash black again.

You press a hand to the monster’s cheek, blood still rising to clot at the first wound he’d given you. The beast looks at you, waiting, mouth still inches from your bicep, waiting for permission.

“Yes,” you whisper.

This one hurts worse - maybe the bite is deeper. You hear yourself shout and your eyes roll back, your knees giving out beneath you. The beast uses both hands and his hips to hold you up, press you in place, as he sucks and licks at the twin wounds in your arm.

The high comes, but combined with the blood loss it’s no longer pleasant and floaty. Instead, you feel yourself weakening, unable to remind Taehyung to stop, unable to even stand. The room goes fuzzy as he pulls more blood from you, becoming nothing but colors, and your head spins so violently that it makes you want to cry out.

He stops when your head lolls, brow furrowing as if he’s trying to remember why he doesn’t want you gone. He licks at his lips, rising to stand, and picks you up, your jelly-like arms flopping over his shoulders. He carries you easily to the large bed on the other side of the room and places you down gently on your back.

Your head lolls to the side and you work on breathing, work on staying here, not floating away. The beast sits on the bed next to you, cross-legged, and waits, watching your chest rise and fall, watching your eyes go unfocused and then come back again.

After some time, you do settle back into yourself, the high from his venom dissipating and your mind clearing as you rest. You still feel weak, a bit dizzy, but the room comes into focus again.

The beast has been waiting, and he sees it immediately when you’re coherent again. He stretches out his legs and rolls over top of you, holding himself up with his arms. He presses his nose to your most recent wound, the one in your upper arm, and gives it a long sniff, and then one last lick.

Then, he noses his way up your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps, past your shoulder, and up to the junction of your neck. He presses his lips to the spot he wants, licking at it, feeling your pulse thud against his tongue. You feel him shudder, wanting.

“Here?” he asks, leaning up to look at you.

“Last one,” you breathe, unable to sound any more firm than that. You can only pray that he listens, that enough Taehyung is in there to know you mean it. “Last one, or it’ll be too much.”

“Small,” he says, a promise, and lays himself over you, heavy. He sinks his fangs into your neck and your whole body reacts to the white-hot pain, hands coming up to claw fruitlessly at his upper arms, legs scrabbling against the sheets, eyes screwing shut, breaths heaving noisily through your open mouth as you pant through the pain.

He drinks longer here, despite his promise, licking and licking over the spot like one might scrape the bottom of the bowl for any last dregs of soup. You float, incoherent, trying to count your inhales and exhales, trying to measure your heartbeats and ensure they’re not slowing too much.

He doesn’t remove himself from you when he’s done, and it’s honestly kind of nice having his heaviness over your body - you know you can’t actually float away, something is tethering you here. He sniffs and licks and presses his lips against the wound on your neck, but doesn’t drink more, doesn’t suck anything from it.

Then, as your head begins to clear a final time, he noses his way up your jaw, still pressing his open mouth to spot after spot, tongue tasting your skin but not puncturing it. Finally, he finds your mouth, pressing his lips to yours in a searing, lingering kiss that you try your best to return.

When he pulls away to look at you, his eyes are his own, brown and anguished.

“There you are,” you manage, trying to reach up for his face. You can’t get your hand high enough, and your arm flops uselessly back to the mattress. For some reason, this makes tears prick at your eyes. You want to touch him, your Taehyung, want to feel closer to him, protected by him. Instead, you can only look at him as he pants over top of you, clearly exerting himself even as he’s holding himself still.

“Run,” he begs in between pants. You shake your head, flopping from side to side. You don’t want to leave him. Your Taehyung is here, fighting to get through, and you don’t want to leave him.

“Stay with me,” you whisper, and he closes his eyes, still panting. Fighting. Fighting it with everything he has. “Please.”

“I’m - trying -” he lets out between gritted teeth, but when his eyes open again they’ve gone black again.

You wait for him to pick a new place to bite, to ask permission. Instead, he shifts to lay next to you instead of over top of you. He pulls you tight against his chest, one arm over your middle, tangles his legs between yours, and buries his face in the back of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“No more?” you ask, trying to turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. You find it hard to believe that he’s satiated… but that last bite was long, dizzying. Maybe he is.

“You said,” he grumbles, the monster’s gritty voice still coming out somewhat petulant and pouty. “You said last one.” Then, his voice turns hopeful. “Tomorrow? More tomorrow?”

“Okay,” you breathe; it’s an easy promise to make - tomorrow you can talk to normal Taehyung, your Taehyung. Tomorrow at this time, chances are you’ll be safe in your own rooms. It’s a promise you won’t have to keep.

“Yes,” the beast grumbles, wiggling closer to you, but you think it’s a happy grumble. “More tomorrow. Now, sleep.”

The room spins a few times, then settles. You feel him press his lips to your shoulder, then return to the back of your neck. It takes a lot of strength, but eventually you manage to lift your hand high enough to grip his.

With his body firm behind yours, his hand under your hand, his breath against your neck, you let yourself float away.

—

You’re awakened abruptly by hands jerking you around by your arms - lifting you up, rolling you over, turning you this way and that with a frantic energy that you are too sleepy to comprehend.

“Stop,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut. Somewhere deep in your mind you know it’s Taehyung, and you know he’s freaking out, but you were sleeping so well, and you’re so bone-tired - probably from the blood loss. You just want him to leave you in peace, in the dark room and fluffy bed, to sleep many more hours. “Taehyung, stop it.”

“I bit you,” he utters, horrified. He’s holding you in a sitting-up position, and you work hard to open your eyes to slits so you can see him. His eyes - humanlike, beautiful brown - dance between the puncture marks on your upper arm and the ones on your neck. He curses in Infracti, the word coming out quieter than a whisper. “I hurt you.”

“I’m fine,” you insist, eyes adjusting. “I’m tired, and I’m starving, but I’m fine.”

You scoot away from him a little, laying back against the headboard, too weak to hold yourself up for long. He’d been kneeling as he turned you from side to side, assessing the damage, but as you get more comfortable he climbs off the bed entirely, coming around and sitting on the edge near your torso.

He clearly hasn’t cleaned up this morning - he’s in last night’s rumpled clothes, dried blood caked on his jaw. Despite this, he looks no more dangerous right now than a teddy bear, with huge, worried eyes and a pronounced frown.

“I can’t believe you’re even alive,” he utters, still whispering. “Why did I agree to this? God, you could have died, I could have killed you -” His voice completely breaks, and he brings up a hand to cover his face, ashamed and guilty.

“Taehyung,” you say, reaching up to tug his hand away. He lets you, but looks steadfastly at his feet, his eyes swimming. “Hey - I let you, I told you it was okay. You didn’t do anything without my permission -”

“I know,” he bites out, then swallows hard, his facial muscles quivering as he fights off emotion. “I know, I remember, but it doesn’t matter - it was still dangerous. It’s a miracle you’re alive -”

You stare at him. “What do you mean, you remember?”

He freezes too, coming to the same realization as you.

“I… remember,” he repeats, eyes widening. He turns his body to face you, looking at you wildly, desperate for an explanation. “I remember every bit of it,” he adds, voice breathy with disbelief. “I couldn’t stop myself from doing any of it, but I was there.” His eyes linger on yours, lost and baffled. “How can that be?”

“You broke through,” you say softly, the only explanation to the magic’s inconsistency. “Somehow, you pushed through it - enough to control yourself, and enough to remember.”

“What does that mean?” he asks, deep voice still breathy, shaking a little.

“It means…” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “It means that even when the curse is active, your humanity isn’t gone, it’s just suppressed. It’s there, we can reach it. I’ve had this wrong all along - my countercurse was trying to replace it… but really, I needed to just… unbury it. And…”

“And?” He tilts his head cutely.

“And… well, there’s probably a level of…”

You trail off, embarrassed, unsure. You don’t know how Taehyung feels, but you know magic and countercurses.

“What?” he asks, reaching for your hands, which lay limp over your lap.

You press your lips together, mine for courage. “It seems like you came through once you recognized me. It makes me wonder… I mean, I’d hypothesize… whatever it is you f-feel for me,” you stumble over the words, starting to mumble, “acts as a counter to something built into the curse.”

He blinks at you a few times, his thumbs absently stroking the backs of your hands. Then, as if he’s asking about your breakfast order, he clarifies, “Love? Love counters something in the curse?”

You pull your hands from his, your body reacting defensively - as if it’s sure this is a joke being played on you.

“What?” he asks, oblivious.

“You what?” you manage, heart pounding desperately against your ribs.

He frowns at you, like you’re being purposely obtuse. “I love you,” he repeats, like it’s not a big deal at all, no more weighty than saying I’m wearing black shoes tonight.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, shaking your head. “What are you saying? You can’t love me - I’m nothing, just a human, I’m not -”

“Are you joking?” he asks, and he actually looks angry, suddenly. “Nothing?” He scoots closer, brushes his thumb up your jaw, then leans closer, pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes. “You have never been nothing,” he says, voice dangerously low. “Never.”

You want to protest, to object, but then he’s lifting his chin to slot his lips against yours - soft at first, then more insistent - and the words die on your tongue, replaced by a small, happy sigh.

When he pulls away, he shakes his head, eyes closing. “Y/N, if something had gone wrong last night, and it had been my fault, I think I would have lost my mind. Truly. I might be losing my mind anyway just because it almost happened. I’m so sorry you went through this.”

“Nothing almost happened,” you press back. “I knew what I was getting into. I knew what I was agreeing to.”

He shakes his head again, wordless, and reaches for you, long fingers reaching to pull you from your spot against the pillows into his lap instead. You allow it, letting him pull you closer until you’re straddling his legs, his arms wrapped tight around your back, pulling you ever closer.

Safe, you think, as he presses his face to the top of your head, giving you a squeeze.

Lips close enough to your ear that he can speak so quietly it’s barely there, he murmurs, “You must have been terrified.”

“No,” you assert, shaking your head, causing him to pull away and look at you. “Not once I knew it was you.”

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KBYE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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