#yandere imperial fist

[kit-williams]

The Spider Suite

Apothecarian Imperial Fist: Astel Redlane

Sickly/weak darling named Mouse

I need to say the biggest shoutout to @bispecsual because a good CHUNK of the yandere boys had her help involved. The small mood boards had her help as well in helping me pick out pictures. 100% helped with getting a plot for the White Scar, helping pick out music for both Azazel rework; the imperial fist; and the white scar as well. They're been an amazing soundboard to work off of and have given me ideas for more short stories/au's etc. Like they have been such a big help that I can't thank them enough for giving me an ear to just go off on tangents about "what if the boys but chaos" and other such just random stuff that during fluffuary I didn't want to write about just yet. (And also keeping me on track with writing all the insane stuff)

Tag List: @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog @thevoidscreams @barn-anon

Thank you to @squishyowl for the Dividers

tw: SMUT, non con/rape , somnophilia, drugging, yandere behavior

Astel was one of the few brothers suited to taking care of others. Now that did not make him less of a fighter but he could handle returning from a battle covered in the gore caused by tending his battle brothers. Perhaps such a burden and weight upon his shoulders and to keep such a smile and tenderness in his person... perhaps such a thing is what turned his hair white. He entered his room and his eyes settled upon the chapter serf resting upon his bed, his Mouse as he had taken to affectionately calling her. Chapter Serfs were different from most baselines... but Mouse?

Sickly thing... and he could not help but take such pity on her, he wasn't heartless so how could he not take pity upon her? She had simply gotten the short end of the genetic lottery as he had studied her predispositions and she, for a chapter serf, was weak. The laborious lifestyle she was born into did not help her completely while hardier to baselines but compared to her peers she was such a sickly thing. Such a hardy stock serfs were, his fingers danced over her arm as his grey eyes looked over her body, but she tired easy... she was often sick or unwell... out of breath often... just she was just unlucky... if he was a crueler man one might say she was a burden even. His fingers trailed over her back and gently rubbed circles as she let out a small cough.

This is how Astel kept sane... he would find himself a pet project for him to feel good about. He made sure his door was locked and that he wouldn't be disturbed... he looked over the work orders that he had convinced Mouse to give to him to ensure that there would be a nice chunk of time that her companion was busy. He hummed softly as he opened a medical cabinet and pulled out a special mixture for her, making sure there were no air bubbles in it before he injected his mouse. She sighed and relaxed at the cocktail of medications and relaxants entered her veins. Things to help her and try to strengthen her and to help her body relax for what was to come. His fingers ran through her hair as he pulls her messy bun out looking at her hair cupping her face with a loving look in his eyes.

Astel undid his body glove, a part of him wishing she was awake to watch him so he could watch her eyes move over his body. His fingers running through the white happy trail on his stomach as his balls felt heavy... it had been awhile since he had some relief. His fingers pushing back the skin around his cock as he lazily strokes himself to half mast. A grower he's been called and far too girthy as well. He cocked his head to the side with a smile on his face as he just watched her nuzzle his pillow. He did his best to help her with her aliments and make her feel good. He always made sure she left his presence well rested and feeling better, if not slightly sore sometimes.

The bed, made for a man like him, had hardly any impression made by her body and it groaned as he sat on the bed and starts to undo her clothes. He can't help but lean down and press kisses to the back of her neck, wanting to suck on her skin and leave marks there, but his fingers work her robe free from her body. It didn't start like this... he just was a weak man for her weak body... it just started with touches to help soothe her as she slept... and then his hands roamed and she made such irresistible noises as she slept... and finding out that she could take so many of his fingers in her without waking up and just mewling instead is what drove him to this. She had to like it if she mewled right?

He rolled her over... his hand caressing her cheek and moving a strand of hair away from her cheek. His fingers made quick work of her breast bindings and freed her breasts. He leaned in as he wrapped a mouth around one of her nipples and suckled. His tongue caressing the hardening nub as his own member hardened slowly between his legs. The scent of her arousal spurring him on as did many things... he learned how to touch her and make his Mouse feel good. He just had to make sure... she didn't wake up for what he was going to do.

He pulled his mouth away from one overly wet nipple and trailed kisses in the valley of her breasts whispering to her flesh, "Do I make you feel good, little Mouse?" Astel asks before pushing his fingers between her folds and he hears her whimper of pleasure in reply. He always made sure to prepare her, like he did with any lover, but she always took him so well its what made him focus so much on her. Her soft whimpers become akin to an earworm for him haunting him throughout the day as he wrote down medical notes or sketched organs... and the way her face emoted with such soft pleasure haunted him that he has a book full of sketches of such soft faces.

He cannot wait for the day that he won't have to make sure she wont wake up but for now its for her own good for her to be so relaxed. He pulled his fingers out of her sex and pushed them into his mouth as he licked them clean as well checked on her health, she tasted so good. His cock, now fully hardened, twitched in excitement as he could see it as her body being willing to be taken by him. He pulled her up and into his lap as her head rested against his chest as he could hear her whimper as he positioned her over his cockhead. As he eased her down he couldn't help but let out soft moans... he couldn't get relief as often as his brothers due to his girth and he could feel how her walls tried to push him out.

He moved a hand down to her hooded bead and played with it feeling her walls flutter and the waves of her natural lubricant coat his cock to help him sink in till her hips touched his. Astel flexed his thighs as he resisted to thrust up as he had to give her body her time to adjust to his size. He wonders how she would let him know to move? Would she play coy? Would it just be a simple word? A nod of her head? A trail of her hand on his chest? Down his arm? As she looked up at him blissed out in pleasure upon his bed.

His lips touch her forehead and some part of him wanted to see her eyes open and her judge him in this moment... would she look at him as blissed out and lovingly as he wanted or would it be the disgust and horror that he probably deserved for what he was doing to her. He furrowed his brow at the shame that washed over him and he pushed it away by thrusting up into her body and hearing that soft pleasured whimper from her. Her hair tickled his chest and his arm as he held onto her hips as he had her leaning on him, his hands sliding her up and down his cock. It started innocent... touches to help soothe her... a stolen kiss... trailing hands and more intimate touches followed by suckling marks upon her skin where she would not see them easily. The backs of her thighs and close to her ass is where he marks as how else can she see behind her easily?

He did have some competition... her overseer was a failed aspirant and while he didn't like her weakness... it too charmed him and he was trying to court her in his own way. He knew what charm she had... but he made it clear to him that she was his Mouse. And like a good aspirant he listened to his betters but he wasn't a mean peer to his lesser... he just turned the aspirants gaze to his Mouses' companion, someone who was overly concerned with how long Mouse spent in his bedroom, and thus he solved 2 problems.

He felt adventurous tonight as he stood up and continued to thrust into her willing entrance. Hot tongue confessions in gothic left his lips as drool escaped from the corner of his mouth. He so badly wanted to hear her gasps of pleasure and her screaming his name as her walls spasmed around him. His mind raced at what positions he would take her in as they fucked, no not fucked but as he loved her properly. She wasn't as weak or as sickly as many made her out to be... she could handle his cock with ease and it was always so hard to find serfs who could. Usually he was so pent up and perhaps he had a bad habit of always clinging to a serf that can handle him... and with that being also his pet project... well that's how she was both a project and a sexual release. He was so close... he played with that bead and felt her strangling his cock and he came with her name slipping from his lips.

She woke up to the scratching of a stylus to parchment which meant that Brother Astel had returned. She rubbed the heel of her hand into her eye wiping away the sleep. She felt tired but in a good way... and that was more than what she normally got in her bed. "I hope you had a good rest, little mouse." She heard Astel finally say as he turns in his chair looking over at her with his usual warm and kind smile.

"Yes I did." Mouse said finally noticing her hair was now braided and she smiles as she always appreciated how Astel would do this for her, "I really shouldn't sleep here." She says softly.

"Nonsense. You need this my dear and I'm happy to offer my little serf some help." Astel said with his usual mirth.

"Your serf?" Mouse said with a laugh, closing her eyes and missing how Astel tenses and the distress in his body. She stopped laughing but still smiled at him, "I suppose I might be."

"Do... do you not wish to be?" Astel says softly in a curious tone... unknown to Mouse this was a question he wasn't ready to hear rejection too. He was just taking things away from her... giving her all of the time and freedom she wanted with him... Astel stopped his racing mind... he would give her back all her freedoms soon, just he had to make sure she wouldn't leave.

She kicked her feet as she sat in the bed just thinking, "I doubt I'm cut out to be a personal serf, Lord Redlane."

"I think you could be." He says encouragingly to her and she always appreciated how Astel, while it might be pity, still did not think of her as being overly weak.

She hopped off his bed looking at those charming grey eyes of his and that smile... that encouraging smile, "I'll... I'll think about it at least." Mouse said before making his bed and cleaning up a few things before slipping on her shoes and leaving his room to return to her duties. Astel let out a sigh as his eyes returned to the parchment as again there she was once more drawn in the nude laid upon his bed with such a beautiful peaceful look upon her face and for now Astel had to live with this vision upon parchment... and he could for now at least do that.

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

The desire to possess (Part 2)

Summary: In the darkest of times, there is nothing more terrible than choosing between duty and love. And Rogal Dorn has to see it.

Perturabo/fem!Reader, Rogal Dorn/fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, possesive behavior, obsession

Word count: 1961

Song: Rammstein - Rosenrot

As you can see, if I'm not writing yandere, then I'm doing angst. I also realized that I wanted to write as much as possible about this trio. There will be no ending as such. There will be a part 3 - reader's POV (but not in this week). In general, I want to write drabbles around this triangle. Dorn and the reader love each other, and Perturabo suffers for her. Perturabo “loves” the reader, and she and Dorn suffer for each other. Every time inspiration comes, I will write based on them. Good plan? Good plan.

Rogal didn't mind the remembrances. They did their job, recording the deeds of the primarchs to leave them in history. The Emperor himself ordered all his sons to take chroniclers with them after the Uralon Triumph. Many simply resigned themselves to “taking the rats on board” without paying much attention to them. As long as they don't interfere. Fulgrim and Sanguinius took a huge number of historians, composers and musicians under their protection.

Dorn was not against the remembrances, but did not want mortals to interfere too much. Therefore, not everyone could get into the Phalanx. And especially to become Rogal’s personal chronicler. The primarch himself wanted to select candidates for this position. He has already found a historian who can tell the deeds of the primarch dryly and impartially. If remembrances even want to express their feelings, then this can be done through other art.

It was with these thoughts that he walked around the Imperial Palace. That's when he met you. You did not have time to win the attention of all Terra. And yet your master patronized your talent. Many mortals did not know about you, but the primarchs saw your sculptures. Rogal liked them. He even took some of them in his chambers.

But seeing you babble in front of the Iron Lord, the primarch realized that he would have to find another sculptor. You told Perturabo in such detail about which fortresses and buildings amazed you, which military campaigns aroused admiration... Dorn even for a second, but only for a second, felt envy.

"I don't care."

Perturabo rejects your services. He goes home, which not surprised Dorn. Such behavior was in the nature of the Iron Lord. And yet the Praetorian could not help but notice the range of feelings flashing across the Olympian’s face. He was pleased with the praise. And yet he decided not to give you his attention.

The Iron Lord goes away and you are left alone. Disappointed and depressed. And Dorn cannot help but feel a pang of pity for you. And a personal base desire to egg on his brother whom he disliked so much.

“Miss” - The Imperial Fist stands right in front of you and you flinch from the seriousness with which he looks at you. - “I saw your sculptures. You have the honor of serving as my remembrancer for the Phalanx. Follow me. I’ll tell you all the responsibilities.”

You blink charmingly in surprise and bewilderment. And nod before almost running after Dorn. The primarch lays out a list of responsibilities for you, inwardly rejoicing that you accepted his offer.

***

Rogal was pleased. You performed your duties well. You felt when it was worth talking to the primarch and did not distract him with demands to meet. And if he agreed to pose, then you worked strictly according to the schedule. By persisting improving your talent.

You were too feminine and loved beautiful things. But they were practical. You did not have the usual arrogance among remembrances. To be honest, Rogal can count on one hand all the times you didn’t try to not work. All you had to do was pick up any stone or piece of wood and you immediately started carving on it. Even fruit seeds could not avoid such a fate.

Nothing special, nothing significant or important. And yet Rogal himself did not notice how every day he began to think about you more and more. Remember your image. Play your voice in his head. Your gestures. He liked a lot about you.

How your thin, graceful hands were covered with marble dust from your work. The way you blew your hairs away when it came into your eyes. And how you wrinkled your nose when a thought wandered into your head and you didn’t know how to express it in stone.

Grandfather told him about his first love. How he felt at these moments, how he behaved. Almost with displeasure, Rogal realized what he felt for you. It was... unexpected. Fall in love. A mortal girl who didn't really do anything. But during the time that Rogal spent with you, he realized that he had become attached to you. He felt the desire to protect and care only towards his adoptive parent. And now you have appeared.

As you later admitted to Dorn, his declaration of love was... awkward. Almost funny and somewhat terrifying. He simply confronted you with the fact that you were now his beloved. Although Rogal did not put such meaning into his words. But you just smiled shyly at his bewilderment. And at that moment Rogal realized that he wanted to be with you all the time. To spenе the whole life with you. He hasn't felt as calm as he does now for a long time. Next to you.

***

You hold back your tears and don’t give in to hysterics despite your wish. The only thing that gives you away is your clenched fists. But you stand straight and your voice hardly trembles. If something stupid upset you, he would roll you into his grandfather's cape. Well, if you were in a more intimate setting, Dorn would whisper in your ear what a good girl you are... But the conversation is serious and he wants you to understand the whole terrible fate in which Imperium apperead.

“You know I won’t get in the way. I will sit quietly and keep my head down. I’m not stupid, I know that I’m of little use. But at least I can help treat the wounded and” - you take a deep breath without shedding a single tear. You always wanted to appear strong with the primarch and he could not help but appreciate your tenacity. - “I don’t want to leave you. I cannot leave you and go to another corner of the Galaxy while you are fighting for Terra. I won’t even know if you’re alive.”

“My sons, brothers and the Emperor will be with me. We will defeat the traitors, you can be sure. But I must focus on this battle. Your presence... fear for you will distract me from this.” - Dorn gently puts his arm around your shoulders. And with all the gentleness of which he was now capable, he looks into the eyes. - “The Greyestone Fortress is well fortified and, most importantly, is located far from Terra. My brothers have no use for this world, they only need the Solar System. This means you will be safe. And this will give me confidence in the battle. I want to protect you, don't you see it?”

You look closely into the primarch's eyes before nodding uncertainty.

"Fine. If you say that... then I have nothing to worry about. But Rogal, please,” you purse your lips and look as if one more second and he will evaporate. - "Be careful. I will be waiting for your return.”

The primarch squeezes your shoulders slightly. He almost reaches out to kiss you... but pulls away. Later. When the Siege of Terra is over he will wrap you in his arms and never let you go. But first he must do his duty. And nothing should distract him from saving humanity.

***

The Emperor has fallen. Dorn failed to protect the master of Mankind. His ghost, seated on the Golden Throne, will haunt Rogal forever. The Emperor's Light, the Beacon for Humanity, was lost forever. They were left alone.

The primarch donned in black. Accepted a heavy burden and a new role. Rogal was not going to allow traitors to continue to rule certain parts of the Galaxy. No, he was going to destroy them all. Spew them into the warp to cleanse the universe forever.

Dorn has not forgotten about you. He sent one of his subordinate ships to Greystone. To replenish provisions and serfs. Bring the necessary equipment to the Phalanx. A few mortals who could help Rogal deal with some matters. And you.

Reuniting with you should have eased the primarch's burden. Bring light and hope back to life. But the Imperial Fists returned with almost nothing. Greystone has fallen.

Perturabo captured the fortress, leaving not even a stone left of it. The Space Marines brought meager supplies of provisions and serfs who could barely stand on their feet. Some mortals close to Dorn survived. Others died during the siege. The warriors learned all the details.

Rogal listened carefully to his sons, not allowing disturbing thoughts to take over his heart. First business, and then love. Duty and service to the Emperor. He assured his father that you would not distract Dorn, no matter how much he was attached to you...

If you're alive, he'll never let you go again. You will live in his chambers forever. You will have your own security. The best mortal warriors. No, Space Marines. Dorn will love you. For real, like he never allowed himself to do. Taste happiness. He will allow his fortress to fall and bare his full soul to you and only you.

But if you are dead... completely dead and your soul is still swallowed up by the warp... Then Rogal will devote himself to cleansing the universe of abomination. No pity, no mercy. All traitors will pay for what they did to you and the Imperium. He will go forward until the very end. Your sacrifice will burn like a beacon in his heart and he will never give up revenge justice.

But everything turns out to be even worse. You are alive. And you are in the hands of Perturabo. Rogal remembered. He remembered that night at the fountain. When he calmed you down. Silently kissed and hugged. How he wanted to show you that he was confident in his choice. That he wants to spend all the eternity with you that you had at the whim of fate. How you smiled happily at the unusual tenderness from Dorn. He is too did not expect this from himself. But this manifestation of pure love only strengthened his thought. You are linked.

And no one will separate you. Especially the Iron Lord, who was watching you from the shadows. Dorn only pressed your figure closer to him, looking into his brother’s eyes. He is already tired of his greedy envy and lack of confidence in his greatness. Perturabo can lament as much as he wants, continue to torment his Legion and mortals... but he will not take you. You belonged to Rogal. No. You both belonged to each other.

And now you are in the hands of a traitor primarch. Who can do whatever he wants to you. He may laugh at you. Revel in your separation from Dorn. He will torment you. Just like the desire to establish himself in war and architecture, Perturabo will certainly want to appropriate your love for himself...

When the Space Marines mentioned that the attack on Greystone happened months ago, he sends them away. Does the Iron Lord want war? Want to laugh in his brother's face? Well, Rogal was more determined than ever to end their personal feud. He had been hearing rumors about the Eternal Fortress for a long time. Now he needed to concentrate all his strength and time on destroying this nest of heretics. The Primarch and his sons would feel real pain together during this siege.

Rogal wraps the Pain Glove around himself like a second skin. The device delivers electrical impulses and the man winces from the tension. More. More pain. He must clear his mind of hatred, anger and revenge through self-sacrifice. If he wants to lead the Imperium to the light, destroy its enemies and bring you back, then he must be calm. Must be humble and reasonable. He must do this.

He has no other choice.

[moodymisty]

Hi, if you're still taking requests for warhammer, would you be willing to write an x Reader with peterturbo or knorad?

Author's Note: Ok, so I decided to go with Perturabo, simply because as fun as it would be for me to write a Konrad fic because I enjoy writing horrible bloody angst, I didn't know if you'd be comfortable with that damage, anon. But then again... You did request him. (I also have no right to diss tastes in primarchs I love Angron lmao)

Anyways, ✨ Perturabo ✨. Enjoy. He's a raging cunt. But I love him uwu

Summary: Peturabo learns of Dorn's ascendancy to Praetorian of Terra, and you attempt to flee the boiling rage.

Relationships: Perturabo/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Perturabo's shit fucking attitude, Romance mixed with toxicity, Yandere!Perty if you squint real hard, General 40kness aka mentions of war and death, This would probably classify as an abusive/toxic relationship lmao, Witnessing Peturabo's slow descent into chaos IRL

Word Count: 1095

The library aboard the Iron Blood is monstrous. Any library you perused as a child has always paled to such a degree, that you need not even bring it up in comparison. Shelves tower over you that even looking fully upward doesn't show their full height, and behind them massive stained glass windows showing the unforgiving void of space. Stars glitter in the distance, or the occasional planet. Be it inhabited or not.

Little servo-skulls buzz overhead, most of them holding some form of parchment as they go about their secular duties. There's a Tech Priest fiddling away with their business that looks in your direction for a moment, before going back to their work. You can hear the faintest humming coming from them- mumbling in what you can only guess is machine language.

You could get lost in it all. Which is partly the goal.

You're avoiding him.

You had the moment you heard it, mumbled by Astartes having just felt their Primarch's own wrath.

Rogal Dorn, Primarch of the Imperial Fists, has been cast to construct the Imperial palace of Terra.

The moment you'd heard that news coming from the lips of a battered Iron Warrior, rattled physically in his armor to such a degree that he seems to have some form of brain damage, you knew you'd hear it from Perturabo's own booming voice if you didn't run. To be at the end of a Primarch's own barely contained rage, not even considering the idea of physical violence, is enough to make you scatter to hide from him. There's no amount of love that could smother that primal fear.

In the shadowed alley between shelves and shelves of tomes, your eyes cast towards the floor.

You remember one night when he was listless, he had knelt at your bedside and took your hand in his own- speaking of his plans to build a palace so obscenely grand all else would pale in comparison. Bath houses, amphitheaters, training arenas, it was like he was there himself, in the vast ambition of his own mind. Denied ambitions for Olympia mixing with his endless ambition for the future.

He promised you some of them that night; Saying things so grandiose you found yourself nearly crushed underneath the weight of them. He was promising you so, so much, gifting you a gilded future with a stern, far off look in his eyes and his fingers now tight around your jawline. Your own fingers had gently laid against his hand, so much smaller and softer than his own.

To have that dream shattered, so suddenly and so wretchedly by the man who's been Perturabo's similar in a way that infuriates him to no conceivable end; You know just as well as anyone else aboard the Iron Blood that he was to be avoided.

As when Perturabo is angry, there’s almost always a layer of bitterness underneath. A gripe, vile taste in his mouth, defeat from once again being assigned a role he seems hateful of. Or a role he's been denied.

The book bindings feel cold against your fingertips. These are largely battle logs, transcripts of recent battles created by the Tech Priests aboard. Most knowledge about the Iron Warriors history is stored much more safely in the chapter's Librarium. It's not to say these aren't interesting however; As someone who's duty is to the collecting of this information, you find the whole thing to be intriguing. But perhaps now isn't the time to take such interest in it.

You hear footsteps. Far too heavy to be any rank and file Astartes, and they hammer down with a level of anger that has your head shrinking into your neck.

You barely have time to pull your hand away from the tome binding you'd just been fondling, before you see him. You're instantly in his shadow, the light between these massive isles far dimmer than what is in the central area. And unless you were to try and dart right between his legs, you've nowhere to run. It's not as if you want to run from him, you love him, but you know how he can lose himself at times.

"You are avoiding me." You can see the barely contained anger on his face. You don't know if it's at Dorn, or at you.

"Why." You hold your voice firm so it doesn't crack, refusing to allow it to.

"I thought you would want your space." His brow furrows. The scars across his face shift, the one across his lip most so. You can always feel that one in the rare moments you kiss him.

"So you know." How couldn't you? The entire Imperium is privy, something this significant has spread over vox and every other form of communication at disposal. They all know Dorn is the Praetorian of Terra, not Perturabo.

Damn them to the Warp. He doesn’t need any of it. All he needs are the plans in his head, and you.

He kneels before you, and it takes everything within you to not do a back step. But when he reaches a hand out towards you, you gently take it. Your feet move of their own accord as he pulls you closer to him, until his armored shin is nearly touching you. Peturabo has always been massive- he's a primarch, but his armor adds so much bulk that it makes him nearly inhuman.

"I will give you all of that which I promised you."

Your eyes catch his, pools of brown looking down at you. His warmth is in there somewhere, you think; Can you find it? Or is it already gone?

You try to whisper his name, whisper Bo- but it comes out so quiet that your voice doesn't even sound out, your lips just forming the silent word as a fruitless, pathetic effort. His hand is tight around your own, it almost begins to hurt. You doubt you'd be able to yank it from his grip if you'd even wanted to.

"No matter how many planets I have to level, or how much blood I need to spill,"

This isn't for you; This is for his own endless ambition, his own need to prove he's everything that he says he is and so, so much more. His hand finally lets go of yours and cups your jaw- but the metal is cold and unforgiving like iron, so unlike the rough, scarred but warm skin underneath. He's promising you the future but you don't want it, you just want him.

"You will have it."

[lilydale-1919]

Emperor's obsessive love

Once upon a time, in a distant and fantastical land, there lived an emperor named Kaito. He ruled over a vast and powerful empire, but beneath his charismatic and regal exterior lay a dark and twisted secret. Kaito was a yandere emperor, consumed by an obsessive and dangerous love for a woman named Sakura.

Sakura was a beautiful and kind-hearted maiden who served as a healer in the imperial palace. She was known throughout the kingdom for her compassion and her ability to heal even the gravest of wounds. Her beauty was renowned, and she had many suitors who vied for her affection, but her heart belonged to no one.

Emperor Kaito first laid eyes on Sakura during a grand banquet held in the palace to celebrate the empire's prosperity. From the moment he saw her, he was captivated by her grace and charm. He became infatuated with her, unable to think of anything else but Sakura.

At first, Kaito tried to win Sakura's heart through grand gestures and lavish gifts. He showered her with attention and tried to convince her that he was the only one who could protect her in the world. But Sakura remained polite, yet distant, as she had no romantic interest in the emperor.

As the days turned into weeks and then months, Kaito's obsession with Sakura grew more intense. He began to spy on her, watching her every move, and even went so far as to read her personal letters and diary. He believed that Sakura was secretly in love with him but was just too shy to admit it.

Kaito's actions became increasingly erratic and dangerous. He imprisoned anyone who dared to get close to Sakura, whether they were friends, family, or potential suitors. He even went as far as to banish some of his most loyal advisors who questioned his behavior.

The palace became a prison for Sakura, who was unaware of the depths of Kaito's obsession. She lived in constant fear and isolation, unable to escape the clutches of the emperor. Kaito's love had turned into a suffocating and terrifying obsession, and he would stop at nothing to make Sakura his.

One fateful night, as Kaito's obsession reached its peak, he confronted Sakura in her chambers. He declared his undying love for her and revealed the extent of his madness. Terrified for her life, Sakura knew she had to escape. With her quick thinking and resourcefulness, she managed to evade Kaito's guards and flee the palace.

Sakura embarked on a perilous journey, seeking refuge in a distant village where she could finally find peace. As for Emperor Kaito, his obsession consumed him entirely. He ruled his empire with an iron fist, his mind fractured and his heart forever lost to the madness of his obsessive love.

The story of the emperor and the maiden he obsessively loved became a cautionary tale in the land, a reminder of the dangers of unchecked obsession and the lengths to which it could drive a person to madness. And Sakura, far from the palace's walls, finally found the freedom and happiness she had longed for, free from the shadow of the emperor.

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

The villains of the MCU

PHASE 1

Iron Man: Capitalist father figure (but not really)

The Incredible Hulk: Russian-British man who wants to be the Hulk so bad

Iron Man 2: Angry Russian man who blames Tony for his problems

Thor: Jealous little brother who just found out he was adopted

Captain America - The First Avenger: Super Nazi (but not really since he cut ties with the Nazis)

The Avengers: Jealous little brother is back and this time, he's got an army

----------------------

PHASE 2

Iron Man 3: A "nice guy" toxic nerd who formed his own company

Thor the Dark World: Generic Lord of the Rings villain

Captain America - The Winter Soldier: The War on Terror / American foreign policy

Guardians of the Galaxy: Really angry blue man who is angry that his people chose peace over war

Avengers - Age of Ultron: Robot Pinocchio who wants to kill everyone after surfing the Internet

Ant-Man: Generic capitalist villain

----------------------

PHASE 3

Captain America - Civil War: Regular human who just wants the Avengers to be held accountable for their actions

Doctor Strange: Evil sorcerer who worships CGI Benedict Cumberbatch

Guardians of the Galaxy - Vol. II: The deadbeat dad who comes back home and tries to pretend that he didn't abandon his kid for years

Spider-Man Homecoming: Working-class father who got screwed over by bureaucracy and billionaires

Thor Ragnarok: The long-lost sister who your estranged father didn't tell you about

Black Panther: Revolutionary who wants to stop imperialism with imperialism

Avengers - Infinity War: E̶r̶e̶n̶ ̶J̶a̶e̶g̶e̶r̶ Purple, space Hitler

Ant-Man and the Wasp: A woman who just wants to live

Captain Marvel: The "I was just following orders" guy trying to explain their horribleness

Avengers - Endgame: Purple, space Hitler round 2

Spider-Man - Far From Home: Fake news

----------------------

PHASE 4 (so far)

WandaVision: Witch who is having too much fun messing with people

Falcon and the Winter Soldier: V for Vendetta

----------------------

ABC SHOWS

Agents of SHIELD S1: Abusive father figure who makes his kids kill dogs

Agents of SHIELD S2: Creepy mad scientist / Long-lost mom who is just trying to protect her people

Agents of SHIELD S3: That one guy who you thought was cute until you learned he was a Nazi / Squid monster who is somehow a founder of fascism

Agents of SHIELD S4: Robot yandere who just wants some love

Agents of SHIELD S5: Alien overlord from the future / Military man who gets possessed by liquid gravity

Agents of SHIELD S6: A literal Incan goddess

Agents of SHIELD S7: Bootleg Joker

Agent Carter S1: Evil Sigmund Freud

Agent Carter S2: A Hollywood actress who is revealed to be a mad scientist

Inhumans: Bootleg Loki

----------------------

NETFLIX

Daredevil S1: Mobster who can't control his temper

Daredevil S2: Immortal ninja who performs blood rituals

Daredevil S3: Mobster who can't control his temper...but now he's even more pissed

Jessica Jones S1: Selfish rapist who just discovered love for the first time

Jessica Jones S2: Long-lost mom who has gone insane

Jessica Jones S3: Best friend/sister-figure who went bad because of envy and insecurity

Luke Cage S1: Half-brother who quotes the Bible because...it's scary, I guess

Luke Cage S2: The two leaders of a gang war. One uses pocket sand as a weapon, the other has a Game of Thrones backstory

Iron Fist S1: Corrupt businessman who has ties with magic ninjas

Iron Fist S2: Magic ninja version of the Punisher

The Defenders: A clan of magic ninjas led by Ellen Ripley

The Punisher S1: The military industrial complex

The Punisher S2: Y'all Qaeda / Christian extremists

----------------------

HULU AND FREEFORM

Runaways: Aliens and witches (so, two of Sam Wilson's big three)

Cloak and Dagger S1: Oil tycoons

Cloak and Dagger S2: Junko Enoshima, the Ultimate Despair but if she was a black, male, jazz musician

Helstrom: Literal demon daddy

[bang-tan-bitches]

Title: Beloved

Word Count: 17.4k

Rating: M

Genre: Drama/Thriller/Smut

Warnings: Yandere Behavior, Violence, Blood, Character Death, Emotional Manipulation, Hint of Dubious Consent, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cream Pie, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Mild Dirty Talk 

Pairing: Emperor!Yoongi X Reader

Summary: Court was just a game of politics after all. And you intended to win

Written By: Admin B

Note: This was entirely inspired by Daechwita and everyone should thank A for indulging my madness and encouraging me

“Are you even listening to me?”

 You jerk at the sound of your younger sister’s voice, the long carriage ride has made you sleepy. You glance over at her and give her an indulgent smile, “I’m sorry, darling. I can only listen to you wax poetic about his Imperial Highness’ esteemed looks for so long before I lose interest.”

You can’t help but laugh when Ara snaps her fan closed and tries to hit you with it, but you block it with your own fan.

“Stop or you’ll wrinkle your dress!” You giggle, “Then what will his majesty think of you?!”

She sits back in her seat, but you can see her eyes are shining with laughter. She looks positively breathtaking in her pale pink ceremonial dress. Her hair is beautifully styled with pearls and ribbons laced throughout. Her maids really made her as eye catching as possible. When the decree was first announced that all single ladies of marriageable age were invited to the palace on behalf of the imperial princess to find a bride for his majesty, you were concerned. You know Ara had fallen hopelessly in love with the emperor the one and only time she saw him, having begged father to take her to court with him two years prior. Ever since then she had this fairy tale dream in her head that they were meant to be together and you were terribly afraid of her getting hurt. 

“He really is beautiful,” her eyes are dreamy as she glances out the carriage window, “did I tell you how his hair is so pale that it practically shines like moonlight?”

“Yes, yes,” the sarcasm clear in your voice, “He is the most handsome and benevolent ruler our land has ever seen!” 

“He is,” you sister insists, “even with the scar!”

“He has a scar? I thought that was just a rumor.” You look out the carriage window to see how far you are from the palace. The ride seemed longer than usual, but that could have just been your boredom with the topic. You had no interest in politics - not that that had stopped your father from teaching you - and avoided going to court as much as possible. You had never even been in the presence of the emperor or the imperial princess. Ara had no interest in politics either, but that didn’t stop her dreams of becoming Empress.

“Oh! It’s not a rumor!” Your sister straightens her posture, “There’s a scar that covers his right eye! He got it during the great war when he was still the crown prince.”

“Why didn’t he -”

“Why didn’t he have the Imperial healers treat him and remove the scar?” Your sister cuts you off before you can finish your question, “He wanted a reminder to never show leniency. He was betrayed by some of his own men that weren’t loyal to the crown. He slaughtered not only the betrayers, but also their entire families.”

You furrow your brows and fix the long sleeves of your ceremonial dress, uncomfortable with the emperor’s apparent brutality, “Sounds cruel.”

“It’s not cruel. He had to ensure that no one would try to get revenge. He was protecting our kingdom from those that would try to take it!”

“Of course, of course,” you placate your sister and roll your eyes at her fervent defense of his highness.

“Don’t roll your eyes, I’m terribly sorry everyone can’t be as noble as your dear Namjoon.”

You frown, “First of all, he is Lord Kim and he deserves your respect. Secondly, he isn’t my dear anything. Nothing has been finalized. There has only been talk of marriage, but no contracts are in place.”

Ara scoffs, “Everyone knows he absolutely adores you. His eyes get all big and his cheeks turn bright pink whenever he sees you.”

You smile wistfully and look down at your lap, “He is rather adorable.”

“Mmmhmm and if it was up to him you would already be married and probably with child.”

“Ara, it is impolite to discuss such things.” You scold gently, “What if someone overheard you?”

“Who?” Ara dramatically looks around the carriage before resting back against her seat, “Who can possibly hear us? There is only me and you in this carriage. No one is going to hear us.”

“Still, you need to be appropriate, you cannot slip up at the palace.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, Ara with closed eyes gently fanning herself while you contemplate how to bring up what’s been weighing heavily on your mind. Your younger sister was spoiled and had always gotten her way, even you were guilty of indulging her every whim. You were terribly worried that she would not adjust to court life well. Your understanding was that the women could be even more vicious than the men and you needed to prepare her.

You chew your lip before deciding to broach the delicate topic, “I heard another rumor about your emperor.”

“Mmm… what’s that?” Ara opens one eye to look at you.

“I heard,” you lean forward and lower your voice, “that his harem is… extensive.”

Ara pouts adorably, “It is. Apparently he has over 300 concubines.”

“300? That has to be an exaggeration. No man would want 300 concubines. Although,” you continue quietly, “he is the emperor and a large harem would show off his wealth and power. Does he have a favorite among them?”

“Ugh,” you watch Ara’s eyes darken in anger, “Concubine Nam In-Suk. She is his favored concubine and I heard the only reason she wasn’t named his empress is because Imperial Princess Min would not allow it.”

“Why would the emperor care what his elder sister thinks?” You already know the answers to all these questions, but you hope that asking them will help Ara realize what she needs to do to secure her place as empress. The carriage starts to slow, you were almost to the palace and wouldn’t have much time alone to prepare her going forward and no time alone once you’d arrived.

“She is his advisor and closest confidant. He trusts her with everything.”

“Ara,” you grab your sister’s hand and give her a meaningful look, “It is very important that you gain the favor of Imperial Princess Min. If you have her blessing, you will not be denied. Most of the silly girls will be striving for Emperor Min’s attention, not realizing that the imperial princess is making the final choice.”

Ara nods her head, determined. “I will gain her favor.”

“Also,” you know she will hate what you are about to suggest, but it has to be done, “You need to become friendly with Concubine Nam.”

“Never!” Ara gasps and tries to pull away, “As soon as I’m chosen as empress I will make him disband his harem!”

“Ara, you cannot!” You lean close and let the severity of your demand bleed into your tone, “You must become friendly and show you are not a threat.” 

“But I am a threat…” she pushes her lip out in a pout. 

You squeeze her hand, “I know, darling. But court politics are not that different from bedroom politics. He will not get rid of his harem just because you demand it. If Concubine Nam thinks she can manipulate and play you, she will be less of a threat. She has his ear and his favor. Let them think you are stupid little girl with stars in her eyes. It will bend them to your will.”

 “But,” Ara’s voice is quiet, “I want him to love only me.”

“Oh my beloved Ara,” you hold her close to you, “these things take time. Once you bed him and provide an heir, you will secure your place at his side. He will have to love and cherish only you. How could he not?”

Her smile is blinding when the carriage stops outside the palace gates. 

-0-0-0-

“Relax,” you whisper, “you are the most beautiful lady here. You have nothing to fear.”

Ara releases her bottom lip and nods subtly. When you had arrived at the palace earlier that day, you were welcomed inside to a large hall filled with other single young ladies and their chaperones, all from the most prominent families in the kingdom. Imperial Princess Min herself greeted everyone and announced that a welcome banquet would be held that evening. You were then ushered to your rooms where you could refresh yourselves before the evening. The Daisy Courtyard would serve as your temporary home for the next few weeks. It was a smaller courtyard, but it was beautiful and secluded and you were thankful to learn that it was nowhere near the concubine courtyard. 

It was almost impossible to remember how quiet the courtyard was now. 

Now, in the palace banquet room awaiting the arrival of the emperor for what felt like hours with the crowd growing more restless by the minute, you dearly missed the seclusion. Imperial Princess Min was present, drinking wine and enjoying the performance of the dancers brought in for entertainment. If she was upset with the late arrival of her brother, her face did not show it.

The music abruptly stops and everyone quiets down. The large golden doors at the back of the room are opened and an imperial servant steps in, placing their fisted hand over their heart, they bow and announce, “His Royal Highness, Emperor Min Yoongi, 37th Emperor of the Min Dynasty.”

Everyone immediately bows, giving reverence to the Emperor. He is dressed in the darkest black with gold dangling from his ears, neck, and fingers.  His blond hair is pulled up into a high topknot and a black headband is across his forehead. 

You notice a beautiful woman trailing a few steps behind him. She is covered in diamonds. They glitter from her shiny black hair down to the long train of her bright purple ceremonial dress. The dress itself is decorated in patterns of golden tigers, matching the pattern of the emperor’s black robe.

By the clenching of Ara’s hands, you realize that this must be Concubine Nam. You discreetly nudge your sister and mouth for her to relax. 

The emperor takes his seat on his golden dragon throne, while his favored concubine sits obediently at his feet. His presence is overpowering and you can feel his displeasure radiating throughout the room.  

“So… I was told that one of you will be this emperor’s bride and empress consort.” Emperor Min’s voice is deep and controlled, but the underlying fury is unmistakable. You can feel his eyes trail over the room, “Do you really think that one of you will enrapture this emperor? Do you truly believe one of you will become my chosen?”

Everyone is deathly silent, afraid of angering his highness even more. You can feel his penetrating gaze stop on you. You did not dare look upon the face of the emperor. You knew the rules of the court. You keep your eyes lowered and wait for his eyes to move past you. 

They don’t.

You can still feel him staring at you and after several silent minutes you hesitantly look up and meet his eyes. You feel your breath catch in your throat. He is startlingly beautiful. His features are delicate but his scar provides him a hint of roguishness that accentuates his already extraordinary beauty. 

His gaze is intense and you can feel his angry aura disappear to something unreadable. His dark eyes are burning with something as a devilishly handsome smile spreads across his face.

You quickly lower your eyes and ignore the chill down your spine and the heat spreading across your face. You now understand how your sister could be so enraptured with one look. 

The emperor laughs, startling you into looking again. He’s staring at his sister and smiling. You can see Concubine Nam’s face screwed up, but staring at the floor. You look away quickly before he can feel your stare. His voice is filled with warmth and something else, something unsettling, “Maybe this emperor will finally meet his bride amongst the ladies here today. Rise and enjoy the welcome feast.”

Immediately servants present platters of food to the various tables and the music starts again. You ignore the burning gaze you feel on you and direct your attention to Ara.

“Make sure you eat. You have to be strong if you plan to carry the next heir of the kingdom.” You add more food to her plate.

“Yes, yes,” Ara giggles and pushes your hand away, “I could feel him staring in our direction. Did you feel it too?”

You force a smile, “Of course. How could he not stare at you. I told you that you were the most beautiful lady here.”

When it’s your turn to introduce yourselves to the royal family, you make sure to keep your head low and only make eye contact with Imperial Princess Min once you’re allowed to rise. Next to you, your sister does the same, following your example, even as you feel the hot eyes of the emperor on you once again. Ara pays a pretty compliment to the Princess, and you smile proudly when the Princess laughs delightedly and asks for your names. 

“Oh, I remember you. And your father.” Princess Min says, a delicate finger resting on her bottom lip. She shares a look with her brother and you can feel the hateful eyes of Concubine Nam on you and your sister. You ignore her. You needed Ara to win over Princess Min before she won the hearts of anyone else. “I look forward to getting to know you once again. Both of you.” 

You smile, and bow again before moving on to let the others greet the royal family. 

Ignoring the heavy weight of Emperor Min’s gaze, you try to keep your sister distracted and engaged during the remainder of the banquet. For every goblet of wine your sister has, you make sure she also has a goblet of water. You don’t want her embarrassing herself in front of the other eligible ladies. You relax once the emperor’s gaze is no longer focused on you and take the chance to glance towards the throne, noticing the emperor in a deep discussion with his sister. The imperial princess has a strange smile on her face and is nodding her head along to whatever his highness is saying. You also notice that Concubine Nam is nowhere to be seen.

“Where did Concubine Nam go?”

“What?” Ara quickly looks around the large hall, her voice tinged with excitement, “Concubine Nam? His highness must have sent her away.”

"Strange..” you take a delicate bite of the fresh dumplings brought out by the servants, smiling a bit at how excited Ara is to find her possible rival missing, “I thought she never left his side.”  

“Well…” Ara is interrupted by the arrival of an imperial maid. The maid bows her head respectively and holds a silver tray with a folded golden parchment.

You grab the parchment and slowly open it, quickly read the contents, fold it and place it back on the tray. “Please tell your mistress we accept.”

The maid bows and scurries away. You watch her go and keep a calm mask on your face, even as your heart is racing. You knew the point of these banquets and festivities was to find the Emperor a bride, but to receive an invitation so quickly… You notice many of the young ladies in attendance are watching and you refuse to show any sort of emotion. 

Court was just a game of politics after all. And you intended to win. For Ara. 

Ara grabs your hand under the table where no one can see, “What was that about?”

“Ara, did you bring that pretty pale green dress that grandfather gifted you for your birthday last year?” You take a sip of your wine, and keep your tone low.

“Of course.” Ara nods her head and grabs some fruit slices from one of the platters on the table, but by the tenseness of her shoulders, you could feel her excitement. You would have to instruct her on how to hide it better. 

“Good. Wear it tomorrow.” You squeeze her hand, “we are invited to the morning meal with Imperial Princess Min.”

-0-0-0-

Imperial Princess Min’s courtyard and private rooms are absolutely gorgeous. Everything is draped in golds and pastels and smells of the fresh flowers that are placed throughout her rooms. The three of you sit at a finely crafted table in her pavilion, the only sounds are the bubbling of the large fountain nearby and the tinkling of the platters of food as they are placed upon the table before you. 

“Thank you for joining me this beautiful morning.” Princess Min smiles sweetly at you both, once you rise from your bow, gesturing for a maid to pour tea, “I do hope you enjoy the meal.”

“We are honored to be invited by her majesty for a meal. Thank you.” You bow your head reverently and sit in the chair the maid has pulled out. 

“Yes, thank you, your highness.” Your sister follows suit. The plates are quickly set with delicious smelling food, but you can only sip your tea, taking your cue from the princess who has barely glanced at her plate. 

“Tell me,” Princess Min takes a dainty sip of tea, “Are you enjoying your time at the palace?”

“It is very beautiful here. We are forever indebted to the emperor and the imperial princess for allowing us to visit.” You keep your voice soft and your sister nods along, her cheeks slightly puffed with the food she has in her mouth.

“And your rooms…” Princess Min continues, directing a maid to put some kimchi on her plate, “are they to your liking?”

“Yes your majesty. The Daisy courtyard is beautiful. Thank you for gracing us with such lovely lodgings.”

The princess inclines her head briefly and smiles, “What do you think of the emperor?”

“Oh, he is wonderful. The best ruler our empire has ever seen.” Ara gushes enthusiastically, “May our emperor live ten thousand years!”

You and Princess Min share a small smile, both seeing that Ara is completely infatuated with his highness. You take a small bite of the delicious food on your plate as Ara continues to praise the emperor. 

“And you?” Princess Min interrupts your sister and turns her gaze on you. Her dark eyes are so similar to her brother that it catches you off guard for a moment, “What do you think of the emperor?”

You didn’t understand why but you feel like your answer holds more weight than your sister’s. You lick your suddenly dry lips, smile demurely at the imperial princess and respond as blandly but nicely as possible, “His highness is a most generous and benevolent king.”

“That he is.” Princess Min smiles and glances at your sister, “And what are your thoughts on his harem?”

Your sister is quiet for a moment and you can see her struggling with finding what she wants to say, you gracefully answer for her, “I’m sure my sister would be most grateful to have others help serve the emperor.”

“Yes!” Ara nods eagerly, “I am most grateful that the emperor has many to keep him company.”

Princess Min hides a giggle behind her hand and you tilt your head, curious what could make the Princess giggle like that. 

“Indeed. You may be grateful for the… help.”

Your eyes widen but Ara continues to look confused. You share a look with the Princess before she continues, “My brother, the Emperor, has a… healthy appetite.” 

As if summoned by your discussion of him, your meal is interrupted by the arrival of a servant stepping into the pavilion, “His Royal Highness, Emperor Min Yoongi, 37th Emperor of the Min Dynasty.”

You and Ara quickly place down your chopsticks and stand from your seats to bow properly. 

“You may rise.” The emperor’s voice is deeper than you remember. He is dressed in an informal black robe patterned with crimson lotus flowers. Thick golden necklaces rest against his collarbones and his pale hair is pulled up into another topknot. You notice that his long, golden earrings aren’t as extravagant as the ones he wore the night before. You and Ara quickly return to your seats.

“Here is my darling sister.” The Emperor gently kisses Princess Min’s cheek before sitting in the empty chair that is placed directly across from you by a servant. “I hope you do not mind if I join you three for the morning meal.”

“Imperial Brother I can see right through you.” Princess Min giggles, “You just want to look at my pretty company.”

You feel your breath hitch when the emperor locks eyes with you, a dangerous smile pulling at his full lips, “Can you blame me? I cannot remember the last time I’ve been so enchanted.”

Princess Min smiles and glances between you and your sister, “The sisters are true beauties.”

“Indeed,” The emperor's eyes flicker to your sister before focusing back on you, “It’s refreshing to know that a father did not exaggerate his claims of his daughters’ virtues.”

"Our beauty does not dare compare to the Imperial Princess." Your sister answers perfectly, the flattery clear in her voice. You see the smile spread across Princess Min’s face, clearly pleased with Ara’s answer. 

Princess Min and Ara chatter for a while, the emperor occasionally joining the conversation, but his burning gaze never leaves your face. If anyone else notices his attention on you, they dare not mention it. You stay quiet, trying not to draw any attention away from Ara. You are proud of your sister, she is so poised as she engages in conversation with the royals. You were worried she would freeze up, or even worse, prattle on incessantly about nothing. You motion for a servant to refill your teacup and are startled when the emperor waives the servant away, refilling your cup himself. “Please, allow me.”

Everything stops around you at his actions, even the servants seem to freeze in place. You glance at your sister and the imperial princess, both completely in shock at the emperor’s generosity. Although you notice the imperial princess has a look of unbridled delight in her dark eyes.

“Thank you, your grace.” You incline your head and keep your face impassive. Only years of training drilled into you by your tutors prepared you for this. A lady must always be composed and even though you feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest, you keep calm. You have no idea why his eminence would pour your tea as if he was your servant, but did not dare question his actions. 

The silence lasts longer than is socially acceptable and when you dare to look at him, the emperor’s eyes are already focused on you. You can feel Ara’s eyes darting between the two of you, but you can only focus on the emperor. He opens his mouth to say something when your meal is interrupted by several maids rushing into the room. His eyes release you from your trance as he looks away. 

You tell yourself that you’re grateful for the interruption. 

“Your highness!!!” They all drop to their knees once they see the emperor, their heads touching the ground, “Your highness you must hurry. Concubine Nam has collapsed!”

You glance at the maids in alarm and look back at the emperor, his brows furrowed, “Have the imperial healers been summoned?”

“Of course, your highness.” The head maid answers, rising from her bow. You realize that they must have been the personal maids of Concubine Nam. The other maids remain on their knees, foreheads pressed to the ground. 

The emperor turns away from the maids and takes a sip of his tea, dismissing them without words. You watch the head maid bite her lip before taking a step forward, “Please your highness, she is calling for you.”

You can see the displeasure on the emperor’s face. His eyes are angry, but the anger fades when he looks at you. He stares at you for a moment as if he’s waiting for your approval. You swallow and glance at the maids before meeting his gaze, “Your highness, please forgive this lowly maiden for speaking out of turn, but your beloved needs you. You should be at her side.”

“My beloved?” His voice is filled with mirth, and you wonder what is so humorous.

“Yes, your majesty.” You continue, licking your lips. His eyes follow your tongue. “Everyone knows she is your favored concubine. She needs you. You must attend to her.”

“You’re right.” His smile disarms you, again causing your breath to catch. “I must do what my beloved asks of me.”

With a swirl of his black robes, he is gone. The maids and his personal servants trailing behind him. 

The silence left by the emperor’s abrupt departure is broken by the tired sigh of the Imperial Princess. “I apologize for Imperial Brother.”

“No, no,” you immediately respond, seeing a forlorn expression on the princess’ face, “It’s alright. Concubine Nam needs him. I do hope she is alright.”

“Yes, hopefully it is nothing serious.” Your sister cannot hide the distaste in her voice at the mention of the concubine.

“Oh, it’s nothing serious.” The princess laughs scornfully, “Concubine Nam always pulls some sort of devious trick whenever she thinks my brother’s attention might be taken away from her.”

You glance in the direction the emperor disappeared, “Does she?”

“Yes. It’s pathetic.” 

You choke back a giggle when the princess rolls her eyes and instantly feel yourself relax. 

“She thinks she has my brother wrapped around her finger. Always throwing a tantrum or faking some sort of illness.” She sneers and shakes her head, looking at you as if confiding something, “Several months ago, when I first spoke to my brother about finding a potential bride, I thought for sure that she would do something then, but it looks like the little bitch was just biding her time.”

“That is terrible.” If Ara is shocked at the vulgar language used by the princess, her face doesn’t show it. She is calm and poised and while you know she has a million questions she wants to ask, she is keeping her composure until the two of you are alone in your courtyard. “Hopefully his highness sees through her tricks.”

“She’s not half as clever as she thinks she is. He knows exactly what she is doing, but he indulges her.”

“I’m sure his majesty has his reasons,” you smile at the princess, “have faith in your brother.”

Princess Min stares at you, a contemplative look on her face. You don’t know what she is looking for, but after a few quiet moments she smiles beautifully, “Yes. Of course, you’re right. I have faith in the emperor. He was chosen by the gods to rule our kingdom.”

“May he live ten thousand years.” Ara says solemnly. You and Princess Min murmur in agreement.

“Still,” Princess Min’s voice is resolute as she gestures for a maid to refill her tea cup, “Concubine Nam cannot be trusted. Be careful.”

You sip your tea, pushing thoughts of the emperor’s dark eyes to the back of your mind and wonder just how much danger your sister is in.

-0-0-0-

When you return to your courtyard, servants are rushing around packing your trunks..

“Excuse me,” you feel bad interrupting one of the maids, but you have no idea what is going on and can’t help but fear the worst, “what is happening?”

“My lady,” the maid bows her head, “we have orders to move you and your sister to the Golden Bell courtyard.”

You frown and watch the servants continue to carry out your things, Ara clutches your hand, “On whose orders?”

“His Royal Highness.”

“As you were.” You dismiss the maid and turn towards Ara. You can see the excitement in her eyes. She’s practically vibrating. You nod for her to follow you out to the main yard where an imperial carriage is waiting to take you to your new courtyard.

“Sister,” She whispers, “The Golden Bell Courtyard. That’s closer to Imperial Princess Min’s private courtyard.”

“I know.”

-0-0-0-

The Golden Bell Courtyard is stunning. The main yard is filled with the fragrant Golden Bell flowers and the rooms were at least twice the size of your previous courtyard. Ara is practically giddy with excitement as she throws herself down on the large bed in the room you chose.

“He must already be in love with me.” 

“Why wouldn’t he be?” You were surprised Ara was able to contain herself until the servants left. 

“Everything is so luxurious.”

“It is.” You sit yourself at the fancy dressing table in the corner of the room and check your reflection in the bronzed mirror, “You should get used to this.”

Ara giggles and snuggles into the soft bedding. You watch her through the mirror and smile at her behavior. She was still so young and you wish you could shelter her forever. You still worried about her marrying into the imperial family, but you felt a little better knowing that Imperial Princess Min seems to have warmed to her. “You need to thank his majesty at tonight’s banquet.” 

“Of course.” Your sister smiles and throws a soft goose feather pillow in the air, “I will make sure to thank him for his hospitality.”

-0-0-0-

Unfortunately, Emperor Min is not at the banquet that night. In fact, you were informed, for the next fourteen days he would not be attending any of the events Imperial Princess Min had scheduled.

You can tell the princess is upset. Her smile seems a little more strained and while she is able to handle everything as a hostess should, you can tell she is very stressed about whatever the emperor is currently handling. You have a strong suspicion it is related to Concubine Nam, but it is not your place to ask questions so you remain quiet. You do, however, try your best to help where you can, becoming a steadfast and loyal companion to her majesty, continuing to have meals with her whenever she requests and spending many afternoons in her pavilion with her. She would ask your opinions of the young ladies from the different households and tell you about what would be required of the empress consort. As the days moved along, the princess dismissed more and more of the potential brides for his majesty until only a handful were left. You were pleased that Ara seems to be the favorite.

You sit across from the Imperial Princess. She sent you a note at the morning meal requesting you to join her in her plum blossom garden this afternoon. You can tell the princess is upset. Her lips are pursed and her fingers are white as she grips her cup of tea tightly. You're afraid the delicate cup might crack. 

“Your majesty’s plum blossom garden is beautiful. It must be the most fragrant and lovely plum blossom garden in all of the empire.”

Imperial Princess Min gives you a soft smile. She dismisses the servants and they step back so they are out of hearing range, but close enough to see if her highness requires anything.

“Concubine Nam is with child.”

You are silent for a moment. You keep yourself composed and don’t dare show your thoughts on your face. Your mind is frantically trying to process what this means. How could this have happened? What does this mean for Ara? 

You swallow and gently speak, “Princess Min, please forgive this simple one for questioning, but I thought it was against the imperial law for a concubine to bear children?”

“It is.” Princess Min throws her tea cup on the ground in anger, two imperial maids rush over to clean up the shattered mess and prepare another cup of tea for her majesty. Once the servants step away, the Princess continues, “She stopped drinking the herbal tea the day my brother agreed to find a bride.”

“Will Concubine Nam be punished?” You don’t look at the princess when you ask, you focus on the full cup of tea in front of you.

“If she is punished, it won’t be until after she gives birth.” Princess Min takes a small bite of sweet cake, “The little bitch thinks the emperor will make her his empress consort.”

“Will he?” 

“No,” Princess Min gives you a reassuring smile, “He will choose someone most deserving.” Her eyes shift as she stares at you until you feel you have to look away. “He’s been diligently working on preparing everything for his chosen consort. That and this unfortunate incident with Concubine Nam has kept him busy.”

You feel relief to know that Concubine Nam’s schemes do not seem to be working. And from the knowing smile the princess gives you, you feel elated that Ara will definitely be chosen as the consort. “What of the child?”

“The child will be recognized as a prince of the kingdom, but not an heir. Only the Empress can provide an heir.” Princess Min still looks unhappy, “I hope this won’t affect things going forward.”

It almost sounds like a question, as if she’s asking you if it will affect things. But you know that can’t be. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. This news will be upsetting to Ara, but not all is lost. This can still be salvaged. She could still marry and become the empress. Her child will still be the rightful heir. “No, I’m sure my sister will love any child that his highness produces.”

“Oh, yes, of course your sister would.” Princess Min gives you a curious smile, her dark eyes shining as if she’s amused. She takes your free hand in hers, “I hope I can request your confidence in this matter.” She says and gives your hand an almost too tight squeeze, “This must not be told to anyone.”

“Of course,” You nod your head solemnly, “I won’t say a word.”

 -0-0-0-

The Emperor continues to absent himself from any events involving the possible consorts for the next several days. Even though it had yet to be announced, you knew he had already decided on an empress consort, therefore he did not need to attend any of the lavish events and parties his sister had scheduled. Though as the days progress and nothing more happens, you grow more and more concerned over Ara’s position until finally you are moved again to an even larger, more extravagant courtyard. 

The Mugunghwa Courtyard. 

The Mugunghwa Courtyard was reserved for the empress consort and is located directly next to the emperor’s private courtyard. The servants treat you and your sister like royalty, you are given the same respects the emperor and his sister are provided. Ara is enjoying the envious glares she receives from the other ladies and you allow her to enjoy her victory, but remind her to be polite and courteous to the servants because they will be her eyes and ears to what is happening in the other courtyards(including the harem).

Soon after you’re comfortably moved into the Mugunghwa Courtyard, the gifts begin arriving. Some days when you return to your rooms after the festivities, you find fresh Mugunghwa flowers on your bed. One morning you wake up and find a bottle of sweet perfumed oil. You know that it isn’t uncommon for a groom to bestow gifts upon his bride’s family, but you’re a little uncomfortable as the days progress and the gifts become more elaborate. Silk slippers, golden hairpieces, diamond necklaces… it’s all too much. Ara has also been receiving small gifts, flowers and oils. You don’t know why, but you don’t mention the jewelry or clothing to her. 

You continue to spend time with Imperial Princess Min, her personal servants would invite you, and only you, to have a private audience with her almost daily. Once, you asked her where the emperor was, as you had not seen him since breakfast almost a week ago. She had smiled at you as if you’d said the one thing she longed to hear, and informed you he’d been out of the palace. Taking care of business. But assures you that he would return soon. 

“If you would like, we can invite him to breakfast again.” She takes your arm and giggles, as if breakfast with her brother is against the rules. “But I might get jealous if my soon-to-be sister pays more attention to my brother than me.” 

Your heart soars at her words. This is practically confirmation that Ara will be chosen!

She keeps you updated on the goings on with Concubine Nam. The child is growing strong, and Concubine Nam has already started showing a small bump on her otherwise perfect body. While you never wish harm on anyone, you cannot hide your small sense of satisfaction when you're told that Concubine Nam is visibly distraught over the fact that the emperor has not once visited her since she collapsed.

You are still very concerned about Ara finding out about the pregnancy. You have kept your word and stayed silent on the matter, but you know Ara’s bubble of happiness will burst once she is made aware. You spend many of your days touring the multiple gardens of The Mugunghwa Courtyard in contemplation, trying to decide if you should tell Ara what is happening. 

You’re taking a leisurely stroll in the hibiscus garden when you suddenly feel like you’re being watched. This happens most days when you’re alone in the gardens, but no one is ever around so you dismiss it as your imagination. You startle when you hear the emperor’s deep voice call your name.

You spin around quickly and meet the burning gaze of the emperor. He’s dressed in his signature black robe, but this one is patterned with dark blue koi fish. His pale hair is pulled back in a low ponytail with a black headband across his forehead. Today he is wearing one long golden earring and a heavy golden choker around his throat. 

You briefly wonder if he would adorn his Empress in so much gold. 

“Your highness!” You immediately remember yourself and bow low.

You are still bent low and staring at the ground when you see a long black robe come into view. You feel a gentle finger under your chin and your head is tilted up until you’re standing again and staring directly up into the emperor’s perfect face.

He continues to stare at you, his eyes swirling with emotion. His finger moves from your chin to rub along your bottom lip and your eyes close involuntarily. He leans closer and you can smell the clean scent of his skin. You feel his breath on your lips…

The sound of a throat clearing jolts you. You snap your eyes open and immediately step away from the emperor’s personal space. Emperor Min is glaring heatedly at a eunuch who is standing several feet behind him. The eunuch looks apologetic, but you are grateful. 

“Your majesty, are you also here to tour the gardens?” You can feel your cheeks heat and you absentmindedly smooth out your dress. “The hibiscus garden is especially fragrant this time of year.”

His eyes are gentle when he looks at you. He gives you a soft smile, “No. I am here to see you.”

“Me? I do not know what I have done to deserve your attention. How can I help his majesty?”

Emperor Min’s voice is serious, “You deserve more than my attention. You deserve everything.”

You turn away from his penetrating gaze, focusing on a nearby flower, “Your highness has been very kind to me and my sister. I cannot thank you enough.”

“Do not thank me.” The emperor chuckles, “I am a king. I always have an ulterior motive.”

You realize he is most likely speaking of Ara. As Ara’s elder sister, you know you have the most influence over her and her opinions. He is trying to gain your favor so she will be more likely to accept his suit, but he must know that Ara is already in love with him. Princess Min would never keep that information from him.

“I have a gift for you.”

“Another gift?” You look up at his handsome face, “I couldn’t possibly accept anything else. You’ve been so generous already.” 

Faster than you can blink, his face is so close to yours, you can feel the brush of his lips as he speaks, his hand on your chin and eyes locked with yours. 

“I am the emperor. It is my divine right to give what I want, and to take what I want. Do you understand?” 

You blink and quickly lower your eyes, unable to bow your head, “Yes, your highness.” 

He moves away and you catch yourself before you can stumble from the suddenness of it all. 

“Eunuch Ki.” Emperor Min gestures and the eunuch steps forward holding a small wooden box, golden dragons painted on it. Eunuch Ki opens the box and you cannot stop your gasp when the contents are revealed. A beautifully hand carved jade bracelet is nestled within. You can see that your name is engraved in it along with the symbols of beauty and love. 

Emperor Min holds out his hand, waiting for you to give him yours. You place your hand in his and watch quietly as he gently pushes up the sleeve of your dress. His hand is so much larger than yours and you shiver when his thumb gently rubs along your wrist.

Eunuch Ki hands him the bracelet and he tenderly clasps it around your wrist. 

“Perfect.”

 You feel something inside you stir, “It’s lovely.” 

 “Not as lovely as the wrist it adorns,” he meets your eyes, “it becomes you.” 

You know you should pull away, part of you desperately wants to pull away. But he is the Emperor, and you know better. 

“Ara loves her gifts too!” You blurt out, trying desperately to control the way your heart is pounding. 

His face scrunches in thought and he tilts his head, “Ara… yes. Your sister. I’m glad she enjoys her gifts as well.” He raises your hand, flips it in his, and places a kiss on the inside of your wrist, lips brushing the cool jade beads. “Don’t take it off.” He commands, before leaving you alone once more. 

-0-0-0-

After that, you did not go into the gardens alone, always making sure Ara or Princess Min is with you. While you never did run into the Emperor in the gardens again, you still sometimes felt his burning gaze on you, but when you looked around, he was never there.

Today, you and Ara are staying in your own courtyard. You feel that both of you need a break from court. You know you certainly do. You have already had your morning meal in your rooms and were currently relaxing in one of the many drawing rooms. You smile as Ara pricks her finger again on her needlework. “Be careful Ara. A lady's hands should be soft and delicate.”

You can’t hide your laughter at the adorable glower she gives you. “Why do I have to do this? When I’m empress, I’ll have the royal seamstresses do this for me.”

“It’s a good skill to have and maybe your husband would want a personalized gift from you.”

Ara pouts but doesn’t say anything else. You sit in comfortable silence, her trying to embroider and you snacking on small sweet cakes. The days seem to be getting slightly cooler and you were appreciative. You didn’t know how long this consort selection was going to take, but you were already longing for home. You had written several letters to your father, letting him know of Ara’s progress and wanting to hear any news from home. You were hoping maybe your marriage to Lord Kim would be finalized, but unfortunately, there was no news about that. Your father seemed to avoid mentioning Lord Kim at all. As for Lord Kim himself, you sent him a few brief letters asking after his health and wellbeing, but had yet to receive a response. He was normally very quick to reply to your letters, but you brushed off his lack of response due to the fact that he must be very busy.

Your musings are interrupted by the arrival of several imperial servants and a finely dressed eunuch. They are carrying two large golden trunks and place them down in front of you and your sister. The eunuch steps forward and bows low.

“My ladies,” You recognize the eunuch as the emperor’s most trusted servant, Eunuch Ki, the one who was at his side in the hibiscus garden, “His Royal Highness would be most pleased if the mistresses would accept his gifts.”

You and Ara share a look and you quickly stand from the soft, golden sofa, “Thank you, Eunuch Ki. We are honored to receive gifts from his eminence.”

The large golden trunks are opened and you can hear Ara’s gasp of delight. The emperor has provided each of you a ceremonial dress made of fine, silk fabric and beautiful hair ornaments. Ara’s dress is a gorgeous light blue patterned with silver butterflies. The matching hair ornament is a hair pin styled in beautiful swirls of silver and jade, a single butterfly resting on top.  

Your dress is colored a rich gold and patterned with black mandarin ducks, diamonds line the long sleeves and train. The matching hair ornament is also a hair pin, but it looks to be solid gold with two mandarin ducks resting on top of a bed of orchids made out of diamonds. You hesitate at the pattern on the dress, unsure if this is a mistake. 

“If it pleases the mistresses, his highness requests you wear his gifts to the Grand Banquet tomorrow evening.”

“Of course, we would be delighted.” Ara beams at Eunuch Ki when you don’t respond right away, your eyes still focused on the pattern on your dress. 

“Eunuch Ki,” you follow him to the entrance of the drawing room, your voice quiet so others cannot overhear, “I feel there might be a mistake.” You gesture to your dress and your eyes flicker towards an oblivious Ara.

Eunuch Ki eyes you for a moment, his look is heavy and almost pitying, “The Emperor does not make mistakes.”

You swallow hard and nod at Eunuch Ki, closing the door behind him and turn to look at Ara. She’s already holding the dress up against herself and admiring it in the mirror. 

The Emperor might not make mistakes, but you were beginning to think you had. 

-0-0-0-

You slowly make your way towards the courtyard of the imperial princess. After Eunuch Ki had left last night, you received a summons from the Imperial Princess. She requested you to meet her for afternoon tea the following day before the grand banquet. 

This side of the palace was oddly quiet. You knew that everyone was preparing for the grand banquet, so all the activity would be much livelier near the grand banquet hall. You had yet to see that hall, apparently it was large enough to hold all the noble families of the kingdom comfortably. 

When you enter her private pavilion, Imperial Princess Min is reclining on a giant resting sofa, a servant girl fanning her. 

“Your highness.” You bow your head reverently and wait for her to receive you.

She smiles beautifully and sits up, her dark eyes shining beautifully, as she holds her hands out to you, “I’m so glad you are here.”

“Your Highness flatters me.” You go to her, smiling as you take her hands in your own before releasing them to gesture to the ornately carved tea table in the corner, “Afternoon tea?”

“Yes, we have much to discuss.” Princess Min stands up and elegantly makes her way to the table, you follow obediently behind her. Once you are both seated, Princess Min gestures for a servant to pour tea.

“Are you excited for tonight’s banquet?” Princess Min takes a sip of her tea, “I’m so very excited and the banquet isn’t even for me.”

“Of course, tonight is a grand occasion. It deserves to be celebrated properly.” You swallow a sip of tea and look around the beautiful pavilion. “Thank you so much for the hospitality you have shown my sister and I. Your kindness will never be forgotten.”

Princess Min smiles at you and chatters about the drama currently happening in the harem courtyard, Concubine Nam was still holding hope that Emperor Min would choose her as his bride, while the other concubines were furious over her blatant violation of the rules. You listen and chime in when necessary, indulging in Princess Min’s love for gossip. 

“What would you do with Concubine Nam and the harem?” Princess Min asks you, her voice curious, “How would you handle this entire scandal?”

“Well,” You ponder over her question for a moment. She had asked you similar questions before, but usually about how you would handle this political issue or that. Never one quite so close to home. You take another sip of tea, deciding how to answer without offending her, “an example would have to be made.”

“What kind of example?” Princess Min tilts her head slightly, her dark eyes swirling with something, “if you had the power, what would you do?”

“If I had the power?” You gesture for a servant to pour you another cup of tea and laugh softly, “If I had the power, my husband would not have a harem at all.”

Princess Min stares at you, her eyes practically glowing, “No harem? A normal man would not agree to your terms.”

You smile, “I will not marry just any man. I will marry a man solely devoted to me.”

The Princess giggles beautifully, “I love your way of thinking.”

“Well,” you giggle along with the princess, “My way of thinking isn’t something that is approved of. Luckily for his majesty, Ara will gladly allow him his harem.”

The princess quiets down and gestures for a servant to place a small, sweet cake on both of your plates. Her smile is sweet, “Tell me…”

“Hmm?” You tilt your head in question and take a small sip of tea.

Princess Min’s voice is light and soft, “when are you going to stop playing ignorant?”

You still completely, your stomach bubbling with dread. You keep your face calm and composed, but your heart is beating rapidly. After a brief silence, you question, “Pardon? Whatever do you mean?”

“You’re a very clever woman, it’s why I like you so much.” Her sweet smile never leaves her face, but her eyes are dark and cold. “You know exactly what I mean.” 

“No,” You keep your voice firm, “I do not know what you mean at all.”

Princess Min’s smile widens, but her dark eyes are unsettling, “Did you enjoy Imperial Brother’s latest gift?”

You slowly set your tea cup on the table, “His highness gives the most thoughtful gifts, we are forever in his debt.”

“You know, he chose the pattern and colors himself.”

“About that,” you lick your lips before continuing, “Eunuch Ki gave me the golden dress by mistake.”

“Oh you are good. For someone who claims they have no interest in court or politics, that is. Though you need a little more training before you sit in on a council.” The Princess takes a bite of cake, her eyes flashing, “I don’t recommend playing dumb with me, however.” 

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean.” 

The Princess ignores your remark, “Have you heard of my betrothed? Prince Regent Jung Hoseok. He’s the general of the Imperial Army.”

“Of course,” your mind frantically tries to understand where the connection is, “He has helped the emperor win many battles.”

“Did you know that he was betrothed before?”

You shake your head, but don’t reply. You have no idea what this discussion has to do with the emperor’s gifts, but you didn’t dare interrupt or question her.

“He grew up in the palace here with Imperial Brother and I. My father, the emperor at the time, practically raised him as one of his own. He was Imperial Brother’s companion and also to be his general in war. I had been in love with him since I was very young. He was all I ever wanted.” Princess Min Glances off into the distance, as if she’s reminiscing, “For his outstanding work as the General of the Imperial Army, my father gifted him a marriage to a nobleman’s daughter... Lord Tokko’s only daughter, Yeong.”

Lord Tokko’s name was vaguely familiar to you, you had heard your father mention him a few times. As for his daughter, you had never heard of this woman, but by the tone of Princess Min’s voice and the frown on her face, you know it was someone that the princess did not like.

“The Prince Regent agreed to the marriage, he actually cared for her, thought himself to be in love,” The princess scoffs and takes a small sip of tea, “It was not hard for me to get my father to agree to have Lady Yeong come to the palace to serve as a friend and companion for me.”

“She was one of the kindest, sweetest, young women I had ever met.” The Princess locks eyes with you, “So trusting that even as she lay dying, it never crossed her mind that I was the one that poisoned her.”

You're quiet for several moments, trying to gather your thoughts. Your voice is a little shaky when you finally ask, “Why are you telling me this?”

Princess Min ignores you once again, “We thought the sickness had skipped my brother. It usually only manifests itself in the women in my family, my grandmother had it too, you know?”

“What sickness?” You are growing more alarmed. The Princess was revealing information and secrets that you should not know and you did not understand her reasoning.

Again, Princess Min ignores you, continuing her story as if she were a player on stage and you the enraptured audience, “He never showed any symptoms, not a care in the world for anyone but himself. The closest he came was Concubine Nam, but nothing serious ever happened with her. He would never make her his consort, so I knew she wasn’t the one.”

“Imagine my elation when you finally arrived. You have turned out to be all we hoped for and more.” Princess Min smiles at you beautifully, her dark eyes shining almost manically, “The moment he saw you, your fate was sealed.”

Before today, having Princess Min’s confidence made you feel warm and welcomed. Now you only feel dread. 

“I.. I...” You lick your too dry lips and stumble over your words, your composure crumbling in the wake of the Imperial Princess’ confession, “I am to be married to Lord Kim. My father is working out the contracts.”

“Lord Kim?” The princess giggles, “My brother wanted to strip him and his family of their lands and titles, but I was able to talk him back from that.”

“I don’t understand.” You feel cold all over.

“Yes, you do.” The princess gestures and a maid comes forward holding a silver tray, the princess grabs the small bundle of letters and tosses them on the table, “You’re lucky that I was able to intercept these before Imperial Brother read them. If he knew you were writing to another man, he would have Lord Kim beheaded.”

You’re quiet, staring at the letters you wrote to Lord Kim asking after his health. The letters he never received. Too much was going through your mind. What about Ara?

“My father-”

“Your father has already agreed and I was able to have Imperial Brother gift a marriage to Lord Kim.”  Princess Min’s voice is pleasant, as if she's discussing the weather, “Your sister will be his bride.”

You stand abruptly from the table, your chair clattering to the floor behind you. You feel shaken and terrified. You knew something was off, but you were hoping, praying, you were wrong.

“Please excuse me, your majesty.” You step back from the table, your eyes slightly glassy, “I need to rest before tonight’s banquet.”

“Please, call me Ji-Soo…,” The princess smiles at you, her dark eyes are filled with what you now recognize as madness, the same look found in the emperor’s eyes when he looks at you, 

“..We’re family after all.”

-0-0-0-

When you arrive back at your courtyard, your mind is still struggling to comprehend what is happening. You rush past the servants and lock yourself in your room. You stare at the beautiful golden dress laid out on your bed, the diamonds twinkling as if mocking you. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Ara is supposed to be empress.

You slide to the floor, your back against the door. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You stare at the dress, but your mind isn’t focused on it. You’re trying to think, trying to plan. What are you supposed to do? You don’t even entertain the thought that your father will save you. You have no choice. Emperor Min holds all the power. 

You don’t realize that hours have passed with you staring blankly at the dress until the servants knock on your door. “My lady, we are here to prepare you for the banquet.”

“I don’t need help to prepare. Please leave me.”

“My lady,” The voice of the maid is trembling, fearful, “The emperor insists.”

You swallow and stand, your legs shaky. You open the door and stare at the servants, they are terrified. Terrified of the emperor, terrified of his displeasure. You realize that you and them are not so different. No one has a choice. Everyone is subject to Emperor Min’s whims.

“Where is Ara?”

“She has already been prepared for the banquet.” Several servants rush in carrying a large washing tub filled with steaming water. The water is fragrant and several flowers are flowing on the surface. 

You watch a large dressing screen being set up around the tub, several of the servants bow low to you before quickly leaving the room. You look at them questioningly and an older maid steps forward, “Forgive us, my lady. We are under strict instructions and not allowed to help you undress or bathe.”

“What? Why?”

The maid licks her lips and hangs several white undergarments over the dressing screen, “The emperor made a new decree that it is a crime punishable by death for anyone other than the emperor himself to view the empress consort’s nude body.” 

It’s a jarring experience to be referred to as the empress consort. 

“It- it is not official.” 

You want to scream at them that this is wrong. That you’re not even betrothed, that this isn’t supposed to be you. 

They won’t meet your eyes. 

The jade bracelet on your wrist slides, warm beads against cool skin, and that’s when you realize all the mistakes you have made. You can’t stop the heavy weight you feel in your chest. You can feel your lips begin to tremble and your eyes feel watery. You don’t want to cry, but you know you should because you have the horrible feeling that once you are announced as the chosen empress consort at the banquet, the emperor will not let you out of his sight. 

The maid smooths over any imaginary wrinkles in the undergarments and gives you a pitying look, “Please get dressed in these once you are finished and we will prepare you for the banquet.” 

You’re left alone and you robotically remove your dress and undergarments. The water is hot and relaxing and it soothes your frazzled nerves. You lean your head back against the washing tub, you can hear the maids quietly talking behind the dressing screen. Your mind is racing. You are a smart girl. Your father has always praised your brilliance and forward thinking and lamented over you not being born a boy. You could figure this out. You could find a way out. 

There is obviously something seriously wrong with the Imperial siblings. The Princess herself confessed to murdering a love rival and the emperor has never shown any sign of this alleged sickness until now. Concubine Nam is carrying his child. You’ve already told Princess Min about your distaste of the harem. You refuse to have a husband that continues to keep a harem of concubines. 

But you know, you know, you could not refuse the emperor’s suit. You did not have any choice in the matter. While this is not the outcome that you nor Ara want, you know that your father will be pleased. All men want is power. They do not care for who they hurt or how they use their children like pawns. Your father will be the father-in-law of the emperor, his position and power will be secured.

The water is cold when you finally decide to step out of the washing tub. You resolve yourself to your future. Being the Empress Consort is not the worst fate you can have, but you were fearful of your sister’s reaction. She will hate you. 

You slowly put on your undergarments and step out from behind the screen. The maids eagerly rush you over to the large dressing table and sit you down. You stare at your worn reflection in the large, ornate mirror. 

Several maids kneel at your sides, dipping your fingers and toes in a dark paste. Other maids rub scented lotion onto your arms and legs. You watch through your reflection as the older maid rearranges your hair into an intricate updo, her skilled hands working effortlessly.

Your voice is a little hoarse when you speak, but you clear your throat and look at the older maid, “Will you be my personal servant?”

“Of course,” The maid gives you a warm smile, “His highness chose me personally to care for his bride.”

You give her a strained smile in return, neither of you mention the fact that the emperor chose servants that would be loyal to him. It wasn’t uncommon for a bride to bring a handful of trusted servants with them to their new home, but these aren’t normal circumstances. You would truly be alone here. “May I know your name?”

“Unso.”

“Unso.” You say the name carefully, “Please take good care of me.”

“My absolute pleasure.” She beams and gestures to your hair, the golden hairpin shining on top. The hairstyle is extravagant and more beautiful than any you have ever worn. The other maids clean the dark paste off your fingers and toes, revealing the nails to be stained a pretty red. Another servant brings a small jar of white cream and rubs it onto your face. You sit still as makeup is applied to your face. Your lips are painted a dark red and your eyes are lined with kohl. A small, delicate mugunghwa flower is painted in red and black between your eyebrows.

You stand and the maids help you dress in the beautiful golden dress. They take their time making sure everything is perfect. When you are fully dressed, the servants all stand back and stare at their hard work.

“Mistress is the most beautiful!”

“The Emperor has chosen well!”

“Her beauty is unparalleled!”

“An absolute vision!”

“His highness will be most pleased!”

The praises are interrupted by Eunuch Ki. He gives you a once over before nodding to Unso, “Excellent. Make sure everything is prepared as instructed.”

Unso nods her head and steps back.

“My lady,” Eunuch Ki bows low to you, “Please allow me to escort you to the banquet hall.”

You look around nervously, “But Ara-” 

“Your sister is already at the banquet.”

“I see.” You nod your head realizing you don’t have a choice, “I would be honored for Eunuch Ki to escort me.”

He gives you another low bow and turns to lead the way out of your rooms. Unso gives you an encouraging smile and you nod your head in return. Eunuch Ki leads you out of your courtyard to an extravagant imperial carriage. From the design and brilliance, you can tell that this is the emperor’s personal carriage. 

The ride to the grand banquet hall is quiet. You’re positive that you’re shaking in your seat. Eunuch Ki is watching you, but he doesn’t comment on your nerves. The carriage comes to a stop and the door is opened by an imperial guard. Eunuch Ki steps down first. You follow slowly behind him, all the servants and guards bowing in your presence. 

The long walk to the banquet hall seems to last seconds. You can feel sweat beading on your forehead and you are distractedly worried that all the servants' hard work on your face paint will come undone.  The closer you get to the hall, the louder the music and laughter from inside becomes. You can hear that it is a grand celebration and you worry for a moment that you are late. 

Eunuch Ki stops several feet away from the double doors. He gives you a sad smile and leans close to you, “An empress does not show fear. An empress does not show despair.”

You nod your head in understanding, straighten your back and hold your head high. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest; the expectations of the kingdom weighing on your shoulders. You can feel the sinking feeling in your stomach that Ara will never forgive you. You desperately hope she can understand. 

You do not have a choice. 

“Please open the doors.”

The large golden doors are heavy, requiring several servants to push them open. A loud chime is heard from the inside of the room. Eunuch Ki steps forward and announces your arrival, but you cannot hear him over the sound of the blood rushing through your ears. 

You step forward and you can feel all eyes are on you, but the only eyes you can focus on are the emperor’s. Dark, calculating, mad. He’s not dressed in his customary black, but gold. His ceremonial robes are a bright gold patterned with black mandarin ducks, matching yours. His long hair is unbound, a glittering crown is placed upon his brow. He is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 

The room is so quiet you can hear a pin drop. You take several slow steps into the room and make your way towards the emperor. Before you reach him, Princess Min steps forward, a handsome man you recognize as Prince Regent Jung Hoseok at her side. The couple is dressed in matching colors. Royal blue and patterned with silver bats. Princess Min leans close to you and kisses both your cheeks. She pauses to whisper a quiet, “Good Girl,” that only you can hear. Prince Regent Jung gives you a low bow.

You bow in return to the Princess and her betrothed. The room is still deathly quiet. When you finally reach the emperor, he stares at you as if you are the only thing he has ever wanted. You prepare to bow, but Emperor Min stops you, “From this moment forward, you bow to no one.”

You swallow and nod your head. Emperor Min continues staring at you, his eyes swirling with equal parts happiness and madness. Eunuch Ki steps forward holding a golden goblet. You stare at the goblet and then look at the emperor in horror. This isn’t right. You realize quickly that this is no ordinary celebration banquet. 

This is a wedding. 

You quickly look away, desperately searching for Ara. Slim fingers grip your chin tightly, you can feel the cold metal of his rings pressing into your skin. Your face is turned back to the Emperor.

“Who is the king?” His voice is quiet, but firm, “Who is the boss?”

You stare into his cold eyes. He knows he has you trapped and he knows there is nothing you can do. While you want to believe that you had reconciled yourself with your fate, you had truly hoped that you had more time to find a way out. But there is no way out.

After a few moments, you nod your head in understanding and open your mouth to accept a drink from the goblet. Emperor Min takes the goblet from Eunuch Ki and holds it to your lips. His smile is gentle, but his eyes are filled with triumph as you drink.

The rice wine is sweet but you barely taste it. You swallow a large gulp and lick your lips. The emperor’s eyes darken as he watches you and his smile widens. He gently places the goblet into your hands and you carefully hold it up to his lips. He takes several large gulps, but never breaks eye contact with you. 

Eunuch Ki grabs the goblet from you and before you know what is happening, you’re in the emperor’s embrace. One of his hands cup the back of your head as the other holds you tightly by the waist, “Finally, you’re mine.”

His kiss catches you off guard and you close your eyes involuntarily. You know that kissing is improper for a wedding ceremony and should only be done in private, but no one would dare question the emperor. His lips are soft and taste of the rice wine you just drank. When his tongue gently coaxes your lips open, you do not resist. Your fingers grip his shoulders and you cannot stop yourself from melting into him. 

When he finally releases you, you steady yourself against him. You’re in a daze as the emperor leads you to the royal table. You stand quietly at his side as he raises a glass of wine in a toast, “To my new bride, your new empress!”

The hall is filled with thunderous applause and cheering. Your moves are robotic as the emperor instructs you to sit next to him. He fills your plate with all your favorite delicacies and pours you a cup of tea. The musicians start playing music again and the murmur of conversations start up around you. You glance around the hall and realize that all the eligible young ladies that were prospective consorts are wearing matching dresses. Light blue and patterned with butterflies. The same dress that Ara was gifted.

You look around for Ara and you find her seated between your father and Lord Kim. Your father and Lord Kim seem to be in a serious conversation. Ara looks calm and composed, but her eyes betray her. You can see her unhappiness and your heart aches. 

“Beloved,” You’re jolted by the emperor’s deep, somber voice, “Don’t worry about your sister. She will be taken care of. Lord Kim will make her happy.”

It takes you a moment to respond, but you do so quietly, “My sister’s only happiness will always be with the emperor.”

The emperor glances in the direction of your sister and then turns back to you, his smile is sweet, “You are a good sister, but it’s time you put your happiness first.”

You’re puzzled, “My happiness?”

“Your happiness.” Emperor Min kisses your lips softly, “To be my bride. To be my queen. To be mine.”

You stare at him incredulously, and realize he truly believes that you are happy being his bride. He really thinks you wanted this and were only holding yourself back for Ara’s sake. Princess Min gives you a knowing smile from across the table. You sit in a daze as the night progresses. The emperor would let no other serve you, but himself, constantly refilling your plate and cup.

You can feel the angry glare of Concubine Nam on you from across the hall and when you finally meet her gaze, you're startled to realize that she’s also wearing the same light blue dress, patterned with silver butterflies, that Ara was gifted. In fact, all the concubines are dressed this way.

Concubine Nam’s face is fuller and glowing beautifully. Her soft, demure persona would be more believable if her eyes weren’t filled with hatred. You’re secretly pleased that her plan to trap the emperor has failed. If she was smart, she would try to gain favor with you, but instead she will most likely plot to poison you. You give her a small nod of acknowledgement and she sneers in return before turning away. 

The night drags on and you're exhausted from trying to keep a happy facade. You catch your shoulders drooping more often than not, and even feel yourself lean against the emperor a time or two. 

When it is finally time to receive congratulations from the representatives from the noble families, you stay quiet at the emperor’s side. You smile when needed and murmur thanks when prompted. Everything feels unreal.  

When your family steps forward, you try to catch Ara’s eyes. She nods her head at Princess Min and bows low to you, “Your highness, many happy wishes on your marriage. May the gods bless you with healthy sons.”

Her voice is cold and you can see the hatred in her eyes. You grab her hand, “Ara please, you must understand.”

“Understand that my sister is a liar?” Ara raises her voice and pulls away from you, “Understand that she is a snake who planned this?!”

“Ara, no.” Your voice cracks and you can feel tears brimming in your eyes, your exhaustion and stress finally catching up to you, “You are my most beloved sister. I would never-”

“And yet, here you are.” Ara’s voice is mocking, “Empress.”

The scene your sister is making draws the attention of your father and Emperor Min, who were in the middle of a quiet conversation near you. Even Princess Min is frowning from where she is seated, obviously hearing the raise of Ara’s voice. 

“Enough.” The emperor’s voice is cold as he glares furiously at Ara, “You dare to show disrespect to your empress?”

“She tricked you! Can’t you see she tricked you?!” Ara ignores the dangerous aura surrounding Emperor Min, “It was supposed to be me! I am supposed to be your queen. I love y-”

“Guards. Detain her. Disrespect to the empress is punishable by death.”

You can see the fear on Ara’s face, she backs away quickly, but the guards grab her. Your father looks alarmed and even Lord Kim looks fearful for your sister’s life. You look at the emperor and grip his arm tightly, “Please, please do not punish her. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

“She dared to disrespect you. She doesn’t deserve to live.”

“Please,” You beg him, you look at Ara’s fearful face and close your eyes in dismay, you know she will hate you even more after this. You firm your resolve and open your eyes, “She’s only a child.”

You press yourself against the emperor, “She’s harmless. She knows that what we have is real. She knows that you love me. She’s only jealous.”

The emperor’s eyes soften as he stares at you. “And you? Do you love me?”

You glance at your sister, an apology in your eyes, before wrapping your arms around Emperor Min, “I love you. Only you.”

He kisses you deeply and waves away the guards. Once he breaks the kiss, you feel yourself sag against him in relief as Ara is released and your father ushers her away. You can feel Lord Kim staring at you and when you finally meet his gaze, you're taken aback by the devastation in his eyes.

His eyes flicker between you and the emperor before he turns around and follows after your father. You stare after him but the emperor blocks your view. You look up and meet his eyes.

“Your eyes are only meant for me. No one else.”

You nod your head, but don’t say a word. Emperor Min continues to stare at you for a moment longer, before he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Eunuch Ki.” 

Eunuch Ki suddenly appears at the Emperor’s side ready and willing to do whatever is asked of him and gives a low bow, “Your majesty.”

“Take my bride to rest.”

“At once, your grace.” Eunuch Ki gestures for you to follow him and you do so without another word. Once the heavy golden doors close behind you, you finally let the tears fall from your eyes. You cry silently on the long carriage ride back to the other side of the palace. Eunuch Ki looks uncomfortable and like he wishes to offer words of comfort, but has no idea what to say. 

You go to rub your eyes with the sleeve of your dress, but Eunuch Ki stops you and hands you a soft cloth, “Forgive me your highness, but your dress must be preserved for the royal archives, you must not dirty it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” You give a sad hiccup laugh and look out the carriage window. You realize quickly that you are not headed to the Mugunghwa Courtyard, but to the Emperor’s private courtyard. 

“I thought the Emperor wanted me to rest.”

Eunuch Ki gives you a look, but doesn’t respond. When the carriage rolls to a stop, Unso is there to help you down from the carriage. If she sees the distress on your face, she doesn’t comment on it. She gives you a low bow and leads you into the Emperor’s lair.

His private courtyard and rooms are enormous. Everything is draped in silks of black and gold. When you finally reach the Emperor’s private chambers, you’re astounded. His bedroom has the largest canopy bed you have ever seen, covered in a mountain of pillows. There is a large wooden desk in one corner of the room surrounded with several shelves filled with scrolls. There’s two separate golden resting sofas, each larger than you have ever seen and even a large dressing table with a mirror, obviously for a woman to use. There are also large double doors leading out to a small, private hot spring.

You watch Unso bustle around the room, preparing things and beckoning you over to the dressing table. “Your highness, let me help you remove your makeup.”

You sit quietly at the table and let Unso gently wash your face. You watch her put a special cream under your eyes to bring down the puffiness from your tears. She takes her time undoing your hair and leaving it unbound. You meet her eyes in the reflection of the mirror, “How many women has he bedded here?”

She looks puzzled at your question, “His majesty has never brought any woman here.”

“Concubine Nam?”

“Never.” Unso’s voice is resolute, “His majesty has never brought any woman, harem or no, here. These are his private chambers.”

“I see.” You don’t know if she’s lying to you, but if she is, you appreciate it. You feel slightly better knowing you are the only woman to ever sleep in his chambers.

Unso opens a chest and pulls out a black silk robe embroidered with red mugunghwa flowers and lays it over the top of the dressing screen in the corner of the room, “Your highness, you should remove your clothes and put this on. I’ll make you some tea and then you can lay down and rest.”

You slowly make your way behind the dressing screen and painstakingly remove your wedding dress. You leave it in a heap on the floor along with your undergarments. You know there is no point in wearing them and while you are nervous and a little scared, you know the consummation is inevitable. 

You put the silk robe on, and gently tie the sash around your waist. When you step around the dressing screen, Unso has already prepared the bed by removing many of the pillows and replacing the black silk sheets with a soft, white one. The white sheet shines ominously in the low light of the lanterns. 

“Your highness, have some tea to soothe your nerves.” Unso has brewed some fresh tea, but the scent is different than any you have had before. You sit stiffly on the edge of the newly made bed and take a small sip of tea. The taste is slightly bitter, but soon you feel yourself relaxing. 

“What type of tea is this?” You ask as Unso refills your cup and urges you to drink more.

She pats your head and gives you a warm smile, “Don’t worry. It was requested by his highness to help improve your health.”

You nod and don’t question her. You assume it’s similar to what the harem drinks to prevent pregnancy. The emperor is still young and with the drama that Concubine Nam has caused, you doubt children were on his mind. Before you know it, you’ve finished the entire pot. 

Unso helps tuck you in bed, and turns down all the lanterns. The only light in the room is that from the moonlight seeping in through the heavy curtains. You can barely keep your eyes open and the last thing you hear before you drift asleep is Unso’s quiet words, “Rest well, your majesty. You will need it.”

-0-0-0-

You’re awoken by a soft noise. You sit up and look around but don’t notice anything out of place. You’re still alone in the emperor’s bed. You see a faint glow under a previously unnoticed door in the far corner near his large desk. 

You get out of bed and make your way to the door. It opens soundlessly and a large staircase is revealed. You slowly make your way up the staircase, being careful not to make a sound. At the top of the staircase is a large room. It looks like an artist’s studio. Numerous canvases line the walls, charcoals and paints scattered over several large wooden tables stationed through the room. 

You see half finished portraits of Princess Min and a few of the previous emperors. You step into the room, careful not to disturb the artwork. There are some more paintings of several gardens and fountains that inhabit the palace grounds. In the corner of the room there is a beautiful hand carved desk, slightly smaller than the large tables, covered with more artwork. When you get closer you realize the paintings and sketches are all of you. You in the dress you wore the first night you arrived, you smiling in Princess Min’s private pavilion, you taking a walk in one of the private gardens, you asleep in your private rooms. Hundreds of paintings and drawings of you. 

You see another canvas underneath, it's slightly worn with frayed edges as if it’s been touched frequently. When you pull it out you see it's a painting of you, but this one you recognize. Two summers ago your father had you and your sister sit for a family portrait. The artist was impeccable and it was one of the most accurate paintings you had ever seen of yourself, it was almost like looking in the mirror. You see that the painting is torn, your sister and father removed from the portrait.

“You’ve found my sanctuary.”

You startle at the emperor’s voice and drop the canvas as if you’ve been burned. He’s standing at the entrance of the room, he’s no longer dressed in the golden robe, but now his signature black. It’s tied loosely, so the smooth pale skin of his chest is visible. His blond hair is loose and his crown is gone. 

“You’re quite the artist.” You gesture around the room, “but I notice there is no artwork of your concubines, of your beloved Concubine Nam.”

The emperor glances around, taking in his artwork as he steps further into the room, “Are you jealous of In-Suk?”

You frown at the use of her first name, but do not deny his accusation, “I do not like the thought of my husband bedding other women.”

“There are no other women.” Emperor Min slowly makes his way over to you, “You’re the only one that matters.”

You glance back at the desk littered with portraits of you, your eyes stopping on the torn family portrait, “How long have I been the only one that matters?”

He smiles, “Does it matter?”

“Yes.” You keep your voice calm and composed, “It matters to me.”

Emperor Min stands close to you, his fingers trailing over the artwork on the desk, “I had no interest in marriage. Lords and other noblemen constantly throwing their daughters at me. Your father is no different. Going on and on about Ara and how wonderful and virtuous she is.” He smiles wryly, “I finally got him to shut up by feigning interest.”

The emperor gently picks up the torn family portrait, “Imagine my surprise when he brings me this. A beautiful family portrait. I ask him about you and he immediately tells me about what a beautiful and doting older sister you are to Ara. How ever since your mother died, you have helped raise her. How you love her more than anything.”

He sets the portrait down and grabs your hands, gently turning you to face him, “I knew then that you would sacrifice everything for your beloved sister. I also knew that I needed to get you into the palace. Once you were here, you could not deny me.”

“But I was supposed to marry Lord-”

“Never say his name again.” Emperor’s Min’s voice is hard, leaving no room for discussion, “I am your husband. He is nothing.”

“Of course,” Your voice is quiet, you hesitate for a moment before you continue your questioning, “But… but Princess Min set up the consort selection. She told me she had to practically beg you to agree.”

“My beloved wife.” Emperor Min cups your face affectionately, his previous sour mood at the mention of Lord Kim completely gone, “You’re too trusting. She poisoned her companion, do you really think she would not lie to help her brother?”

“But Ara-”

“Ara will forgive you.” He presses a soft kiss against your lips, “Or she won’t. It does not matter.”

“But-”

“Is it really so bad being Empress?” Emperor Min presses another kiss to your lips, his fingers tangle in your unbound hair, “Being Mother to the country?”

“No-no, I am grateful to your majesty.” You shiver at his touch, grasping his shoulders as he presses himself against you.

“Yoongi.” He places more kisses down your lips and chin, “Call me Yoongi.”

“Yoongi!” You gasp when he softly bites your neck.

You feel him reach behind you and push everything off the large desk, the sound of canvases and painting supplies hitting the floor echoes throughout the room. Yoongi picks you up and sits you on the large desk, his lips never leaving your skin.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” His mouth is muffled by the skin of your neck, his lips and tongue trail lower. You feel hot all over and cannot help but shiver when his hand yanks the collar of your robe down your shoulder. “My beautiful queen.”

Your fingers clutch at the silk fabric of his robe, holding him closer to you. You don’t stop him when he undoes your robe, his hot fingers trailing down the skin of your abdomen. “Beloved, will you show me?”

You wordlessly lean back, letting the open robe slip down your arms, baring your nude body to his view. His eyes are burning as he drinks you in. “Absolutely Exquisite.”

Yoongi leans over you, pressing himself between your thighs, and kisses you deeply. His tongue licks into your mouth with desperation. His hands are shaking as he grips your hips, and you quickly free yourself from the sleeves of your robe.

He breaks the kiss to trail his mouth down your neck and chest, his hot tongue swirls around your exposed breast before suckling the nipple. You can’t stop your moan, your whole body jerks at the feeling. “Y-Yoongi!”

“Say it again.” Yoongi’s voice is filled with desperation as he kisses down your ribs, “Say my name again.”

“Yoongi.” You whisper and your stomach clenches when he kisses lower, his wet tongue trailing over your abdomen. You’re so aroused, you can feel your wetness coating your thighs, but you can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed. 

“I have never seen a more beautiful woman.” Yoongi presses a soft kiss below your belly button, “The country has never had a more beautiful empress.”

“Your highness flatters me.”

“No.” Yoongi’s firm voice startles you and when you meet his eyes, they are burning with madness, “This emperor loves you. Only you.”

You shiver at the look in his eyes and nod your head in return, “Yes. Of course.”

Yoongi presses another kiss to your abdomen, his large hands gripping your thighs as he stares at you, “Will you deny your king?”

“Never.”

The smile he gives you is equal parts beautiful and dangerous, his dark, dark eyes overflowing with adoration for you, “Good girl.”

Your breath catches when he spreads your thighs apart and leans forward, his mouth inches away from your wet, pulsing cunt. “I wonder if you taste as succulent as you smell.”

You feel your pussy throb at his words and you lean your head back against the desk, your eyes closing in anticipation. You find his crude words more arousing than you ever thought possible. Your heart is beating so fast and you can feel sweat beading on your forehead. While you have never been intimate with a man, you were no stranger to self pleasure. You just never imagined your first experience with a man would be the emperor of the entire nation between your thighs, waiting to pleasure you. The heady rush of excitement is making you dizzy.

You tense when Yoongi presses the flat of his tongue against your juicy pussy. His tongue is hot as it licks a slow stripe up to your clit and you both release a throaty groan when he sucks your clit into his mouth.

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you get light headed from lack of oxygen. You're shivering all over and you feel a tight pressure in your stomach. Your entire body is tuned to Yoongi’s mouth, every lick and suck of his tongue has you soaring. 

“Better.” He whispers between licks of your swollen clit, his fingers shaking as he holds your thighs apart, “You taste so much better than anything I’ve ever had before.” 

You press your hand into your mouth to bite down on, trying to muffle your moans. Your other hand scrambles for something to hold onto before tangling in his long, soft hair. 

You press your heel into his back, but if Yoongi is bothered, he does not show it. He’s completely focused on devouring you. You bite your hand hard to cover your squeal when his hot fingers gently probe your cunt. He reaches up to pull your hand out of your mouth, his fingers gently stroking your wrist around the jade bracelet, “Do not dare hide your pleasure from me.”

He places your hand on his head, near your other hand already grasping his hair, and encourages you to use him as you please. A long, thick finger slips inside you and you cannot stop yourself from clamping down, your hips automatically rolling up into his face. 

“That’s it, my beautiful girl,” Yoongi continues to flick your clit with his tongue, “Ride my face.”

Your fingers grasp his head, holding his mouth against your aching cunt. You’re throbbing and dripping and you know you are going to come soon. You can feel the release building deep inside you. Yoongi presses another finger into your dripping hole and you can feel yourself trembling. He’s completely focused on you and your pleasure, his mouth working nonstop to help you reach your peak. 

You sit up slightly and meet his dark gaze, his eyes are brimming with satisfaction. You grip his hair hard and press his face against your dripping cunt. You’re so close you’re practically vibrating with pleasure. 

He twists his fingers and you're coming. You release a soundless gasp and can’t stop yourself from gushing all over his fingers. Yoongi moans at the taste of you, his mouth eagerly trying to swallow every drop of your release. You collapse on the desk, your orgasm still thrumming through your body. 

You barely catch your breath when he’s hovering over you, your release glistening on his lips and chin. He kisses you deeply, making sure you can taste yourself on his tongue. You can feel his body trembling as he undoes his robe and you cannot figure out if he’s nervous or excited, or a combination of both.

He breaks the kiss to look at you and your stomach flutters at his gaze, so full of yearning and affection, you’re no longer sure why you ever thought about denying him. You hadn't even realized something was missing from your life, he was missing from your life, until this moment. You weren't just doing this out of a sense of duty. Because you were his wife. Because he was your husband. You wanted this. Desperately. More than you’d wanted anything up until this moment. 

Full of your realization, you push his robe off his shoulders and spread your legs wider, allowing him to press himself completely against you. He’s hot and hard, pulsing between your thighs. You shiver at the feel of him, your sticky cunt still dripping from your orgasm. You look at him, his cheeks flushed pink, his forehead and chest slightly sweaty, his hair a tangled mess. His scar looks less intimidating in the low light of the lanterns.

“You love me?” You don’t realize you have said the words out loud until he stares at you, his dark, dark eyes burning.

“More than anything.” 

It’s intoxicating knowing you have this beautiful man confessing his love to you. He is the most powerful man in the entire world and he loves you more than anything. You can’t help the ugly feelings of jealousy bubbling in your stomach, knowing other women have seen him undone like this. Knowing that Concubine Nam has had him like this is unacceptable. 

“I want them gone.” You shift forward slightly, the head of his thick cock catching on your entrance. You feel so hot between your legs, your cunt aching to be spread open by him. 

“Who?” He sounds confused, distracted. His whole body is trembling, holding himself back from thrusting up into you.

“Your whores.” You roll your hips and feel him sink a few inches inside you, you hold your breath and try not to tense up at the intrusion. “I will not have a husband that has a harem. I want them all gone, especially that bitch Nam. I can’t stand the thought of anyone else seeing you like this.”

“Yes,” You feel more than hear him gasp, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, “Anything you want.

“You’re mine.” 

Your whispered declaration causes something inside of him to snap. You’re unprepared when he pushes completely inside of you. The burning stretch of his thick, heavy cock leaves your breathless. He groans into your chest, barely giving you a moment to adjust before he’s thrusting in and out. Every roll of his hips has you clenching around him. His lips press soft kisses into your skin between pants of yesyesyes and all yours. You’re soaked and shaking, your fingers clutch his shoulders, trying to anchor him against you. He’s so thick and so large, you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“My Empress, My Goddess,” Yoongi whispers reverently into your skin, “I will give you everything.”

“Yes,” You press yourself closer to him, ignoring the feel of his ringed fingers bruising your hips, “All I want is you.”

Every thrust of his hips brings you closer to the edge. You’re quivering around him, so close you can almost taste it. You shudder when he releases your hip, his fingers gently rubbing your swollen clit, causing you to pulse around him. “That’s it, my beloved girl. Come for me.”

Yoongi softly pinches your clit and you explode. His tongue licks up your throat, his mouth swallowing your quiet cries of pleasure. You clench down and feel him gasp against you, his body shuddering uncontrollably. The pulse of his cock inside you floods you with warmth.

You close your eyes and hold him against you, trying to catch your breath. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. You slowly run your fingers through his hair and smile when you realize he’s still buried inside you.

He sits up and stares at you. You can see your reflection in his dark eyes. Your hair is disheveled and your lips are swollen. You can see your eyes are hazy with pleasure and several love bites adorn your neck and shoulders.

“My beloved bride.” Yoongi smiles at you affectionately, his fingers gently brush your hair back from your sweaty forehead, “I will never let you go.”

-0-0-0-

When you awaken you’re alone in the emperor’s bed, his side is cool, as if he’s been gone for hours. You’re sore all over, your husband spent most of the night inside of you, making you come over and over again until the early morning light.

You wrap the wrinkled white sheet around you and stand on shaky legs. You slowly make your way to the door and call for Unso. She appears immediately, almost as if she was waiting for you.

She helps you sit at the dressing table and goes about opening the curtains. Based on the sunlight entering the room, you can tell it is already early afternoon. Several maids clear the used bedding from the bed, and replace the sheets with clean silk ones. 

“Where is the emperor?” 

“His majesty wanted his bride to get enough rest, he would not let anyone disturb your highness.” Unso ignores your question and pulls a black dress patterned with golden dragons from the wardrobe. She hangs it over the silk dressing screen along with several undergarments.

You watch her through the mirror as she orders servants to prepare bath water for you. You can tell that something is amiss by the way Unso will not meet your eyes and the maids scurry about as if they are terrified of you.

“Your highness,” A younger maid bows low and holds out a fresh cup of tea, “your tea?”

You take the cup from the trembling maid, it’s the same bitter tea from the night before. You take a small sip, “Unso, where is my husband?”

“Your majesty, you must drink your tea, it is good for your health.” Unso comes out from behind the dressing screen, “Come take your bath, it will soothe your sore muscles.”

“No,” You set the mostly full cup of tea on the dressing table and stand up, “Bring me my robe.”

“Your majesty, you cannot go out in only your robe!” Unso’s voice is shocked. “It is improper!”

“Fine,” You make your way behind the dressing screen and put on your undergarments, “You will help me dress and then you will take me to my husband.”

Unso and several maids help you put on the stunning black dress. You’re ushered to the dressing table where you are adorned in diamond jewelry. Unso styles your hair with a jeweled dragon hairpin. Lotions and creams are rubbed into your face, neck and arms. 

Once you are deemed presentable, you follow Unso and several servant girls to the throne room. When you reach the large doors, Eunuch Ki looks alarmed to see you and quickly bows low, “Y-your highness! What are you doing here?”

 “Eunuch Ki,” You nod your head in greeting, “I came to see my husband.”

“I see,” Eunuch Ki shares an undecipherable look with Unso, “His majesty is conducting important business, he has asked me to inform you that he will join you in his rooms later for the evening meal.”

“Open the doors.”

“Please your majesty, you need to rest.” Eunuch Ki tries to placate you, “Let me take you back to the emperor’s courtyard or even to see Princess Min.”

“Open the doors. Now.”

Eunuch Ki looks helplessly at Unso before nodding his head. The guards slowly push the heavy doors open.

The smell is the first thing that hits you. The thick coppery scent of blood. You slowly step into the room and gasp in horror. The floors and walls are covered in blood. It looks like an entire massacre took place here. You walk further into the room and ignore the way the blood soaks into your silk slippers, seeping between your toes.

Eunuch Ki follows quietly behind you. There are several servants scrubbing the floors and walls, trying to remove the pools of blood around the room. You ignore them all, your eyes are completely focused on the emperor. He’s staring at a small golden box in his hand. A bloody sword rests near his feet. 

“Yoongi.” You whisper the words quietly, but his head snaps up immediately, his eyes focusing on you. 

“Beloved.” His eyes light up when he sees you, a beautiful smile spreading across his face. He rushes eagerly towards you. You realize he’s wearing a black robe, patterned with golden dragons, the same design as your dress. The only difference is his robe is stained with fresh blood. His hair is pulled up into a topknot, his black headband in place. Small drops of blood stain his cheeks and neck. He presses the golden box into Eunuch Ki’s hands before cupping your face, his fingers still wet with blood.

“My beautiful bride,” His voice is light, happy, “everything is perfect now that you are here.”

“Perfect?” You whisper and let him take your hands, leading you towards his throne. The golden dragon throne looks intimidating in the blood soaked room. The closer you get to the throne, the stronger the scent of blood becomes. You feel light headed, your stomach churning at the smells permeating the air.

“I.. I need to sit down.”

Yoongi looks at you concerned and immediately has you sit on his throne, “Are you alright, my love? Do you need some tea?”

“No,” You sit quietly. You feel sick, you feel sweaty, you can barely catch your breath, “I just need a moment.”

You close your eyes trying to center yourself. You know something terrible happened here, there is so much blood it looks like a battlefield. You're grateful that the bodies have already been removed, you don't know how you would have handled a room full of corpses. You take a few deep breaths and open your eyes, meeting Yoongi's bright gaze.  

“I have a gift for you.” Yoongi takes the golden box from Eunuch Ki, “I wanted to surprise you with it this evening, but you are here now. My beautiful girl.”

You stare at the golden box stained with blood. You take it from Yoongi with trembling hands. Yoongi is vibrating with excitement next to you. You can feel the pressure behind your eyes signaling that you are about to cry. You blink repeatedly, holding back your tears.  

You slowly open the box and stare at the contents. Yoongi holds your hands around the golden box, making sure you can’t drop it. You swallow the scream bubbling in your throat and meet his eyes. Dark, crazed, unhinged eyes overflowing with love for you. Love and madness.

You look back at your gift. Dead, lifeless eyes stare back at you. Concubine Nam’s eyes. Yoongi kneels obediently at your feet, soaking his robe in more blood. Blood from Concubine Nam. Blood from the rest of the harem. 

You can’t stop the tears from dripping down your cheeks. 

“They are all gone. Just like you asked.” Yoongi stares at you with reverence, his eyes sparkling, “I told you I would do anything for you.”

[alicehattera03]

what's the darkest you can imagine yandere Kiel to be?

Ooooh, that's a good ask anon...

Let's do LP! verse cause wmmap would still be quite sweet. ⬇️

Going as far as breaking a certain someone's legs(or feet?) so she won't be able to run away from him and locking her away in a human-sized cage filled with flowers that she likes but chains on her. He would want her to be the image he imagined of her, not anything outside of that perfection.

But, oh, he would apologize day and night, endlessly asking for her forgiveness for doing this to her, tears rolling down his face when she finally yells, "Why are you crying when I'm the victim of you?!" that he understands how she feels, and even when she hits him, he takes it all and says it's what he deserves for being so bad. But inside, he's just happy that she's taking the initiative to touch him, even if it is just to land stinging blows to his chest.

He leaves behind dark red marks on her fair skin, reminding himself that she was captured by him, but he never leaves bruises that would fade to mottled shades. As if he could let her form be ruined by something so atrocious in appearance. Like the gentle prick of the thorns of a rose, just that.

He'd watch over her as she slept, and he'd imagine what her expression would be like if he told her the servant she smiled at the other day had died by his hand because no one else was allowed to be the recipient of her smile. How his room was filled with mementos of his encounters with her: handkerchiefs, dried flowers, ribbons, wax seals, perfume, but how none of them were natural, but calculated, every step.

He says he loves her, and he does, in his own way. She says, "I can't love you. Not when you're like this. Not when you've showed me the reality of being with you, and what you've done to me. You're a monster." But all he does is smile, and she shrinks back against the cage bars because he's coming closer, and she strikes out with weak fists as he holds her close to him.

"I love you, your highness."

But she cries, silent, delicate shoulders shaking, because if he loved her, why did he choose to marry another and keep her here, like she was a dirty little secret he had to bury away from prying eyes? Why did he choose to hurt her like this? He breathes in the scent of her skin and presses a kiss to her neck, and can't wait to tell her about his day.

How the day he had waited to make her truly his had finally come.

She doesn't see the blood on his pants, and she can't see the black flag waving outside the palace walls. "There is no imperial blood left!" the people cry out. But soon, they shout, "Hurrah to the new Empress Regnant! Hurrah!"

The abandoned had become the one who rose above them all.

[sahesha]

/// The Little Monster ///

I remind you that in this picture he's only 17 years old, lol.

Hey, lovely @callmedrafter! I hope I'm not too late! Anyway, I'm sorry for the long wait. I'm really glad to present you this small work, and also I wish you the best of luck! 💕💕💕

UPD: I think it turned out a bit different 👉🏻👈🏻

word count: 1115

no warnings, it's fluff, although there is one (1) pink yandere teen boy

highlight: "The whole world will come to an end when he grows up."

"You don't give me a choice!" you yelled, taking a step back. The large building of the garbage processing plant, where the Donquixote family was living, responded with a piercing, metallic howl. The scream froze under the high arches and then came complete silence. You clenched your fists, preparing to fight back.

Doflamingo, who was sitting calmly in the high armchair, rose to his feet. The pink feathers of his maroon coat rustled, and it sounded threatening. Even though he was two years younger than you, he was much taller, more physically fit, and more powerful.

You cringed inwardly. A handsome young man who was always cheerful, laughed openly and loudly, joked a lot with you, suddenly began to look really terrifying. You knew about his "work" before, but now you finally realized that this ever-smiling guy was a pirate.

When you've first met Doflamingo, he has seemed rather windy, even messing. He could make funny faces and dance while waiting for something impatiently. Jokes fell from his thin, burgundy lips like pearls from a broken necklace, loud and fast. He understood how to perfectly improvise because he had a razor-sharp mind. Also, Doffy looked absolutely amazing. His sturdy body retained its adolescent flexibility. His skin, smooth and sun-kissed, hair the color of golden aspen, fluttering in the breeze, and the style in everything he said and did, were fascinating.

You've fallen in love with the kind of perfection he was.

Doflamingo was perfect at the moment, too. The silver ocean leviathan, rising from the dark bottom, looked at you. For a second, you imagined the fluorescent water cloud bathed his blonde head in a faint glow. It seemed to you like the beautiful seashell with crown-shaped growths in the inky waves. Usually, Doffy had a weird gait like an exotic bird, and it seemed kind of cute to you. But now, he was walking straight and smoothly as if through the water.

The biblical beast leaned over you, staring at you with darkened eyes. Ten stiff gold locks stuck up like ten horns. The maroon coat with the pink feather fringe flowed from his shoulders in imperial purple. You took one more step back. Doflamingo looked at you silently and searchingly, deep in the eyes. Then, as if deciding something for himself, he got up, turned around, and left.

You were alone in an empty hall.

***

It all began when he started deciding everything instead of you. Where you should go, who you should talk to, and who you should stop communicating with, Doflamingo was choosing all of this. The young man explained his behavior by saying that he cared for you in this way. But you took it as a stranglehold around your fragile neck. You knew he really cared about you, and he saved you a couple of times. However, it was still too much, too loud, too intense.

Sometimes, Doflamingo would use his devil fruit to create a string garrote for strangling his foes. In his historic homeland, the island of Dressrosa, the garrote was a preferred instrument for execution and covert murder. Doflamingo was the flesh, blood, and bone of his hot-tempered, torrid nation. His passion always was stifling. His embrace was firm, like a matador's grip, when he waves a heavy pink cloak to provoke angry bulls. His kisses were as sharp as estoques, used by bullfighters. The curved tip of such a sword was called "Death." There hid sweet death in curves of Doflamingo's lips.

It's been a few hours since he went with no words said, and you thought sad this was the end of your romantic relationship. All this time, you've been here alone, reflecting. For some reason, there was no one from his pirate family. "Well, maybe it's for the best," you decided and moved to the exit of the waste recycling plant. And you didn't know what you were talking about, his crew or your breakup.

It was hot midday in usually cold Spider Miles.

***

In the evening you went to your home and fell on the bed. A light breeze blew in from the open window, smelling of algae and sea salt, and cooled your warm skin. You stared at the ceiling without a single thought in your head. This day passed in an unusual soundlessness and dullness. Without Doflamingo, there was no eternal carnival, which he carried inside.

Feathers rustled gently outside the window, and Doflamingo deftly climbed in and jumped on your bed. You were surprised because it should have broken under his considerable weight, but he did it so lightly that it held. Doffy put his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly, and pressed his forehead against your chest.

"I don't care if we have a fight or not. You have to be there for me," Donquixote muttered. You suddenly realized that he was mumbling the same way that tired, sleepy kids do. The teen — he really was just the teen — lifted his face and looked at you with huge eyes. They gleamed like two sapphires in the moonlight. There was an innocent adolescent charm in his appearance now. Leviathan from the depths of the sea turned into its cub, powerful but too young. This ability to metamorphose has always amazed you.

"Well, how can I resist it?" you asked the space of your room, not him, with grumbling. "It's impossible."

"I'm not letting you go anywhere," Doflamingo said capriciously. He frowned on his pale, almost invisible eyebrows. You sighed softly.

"Doffy, I'm not your toy. You can't decide which corner I'm in and in what position. You can't take me out of the box and put me back when you get bored. I'm a living person. Let me decide what I do myself."

"You're my boyfriend," declared Doflamingo stubbornly, emphasizing the word "my." Then he stuck his sharp beak-like nose in your soft neck and kissed its thin skin tenderly. "So may I let you do what you want, but only next to me?"

"Well, we'll see how it goes then," you said quietly and yawned. The warmth of Doffy's body soothed and lulled. You felt too good to argue with him. The garrote hug now looked more like a heavy and downy blanket. He fell asleep himself suddenly, still holding you tight.

You stroked Doflamingo's golden aspen hair for a while, thinking in the night silence about how you've managed to get in touch with this little monster. He was just getting ready to become an adult.

"The whole world will come to an end when he grows up," for some reason, you thought cheerfully, embracing your teenage leviathan, and fell asleep too.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Can I please request yandere Steve from a parallel universe or some magic world who can enter reader's dreams?

OH WOW! This is a perfect plot!! Thank you, dear!

Guardian of dreams

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking through dreams, kidnapping.

Words: 1519.

_______________

“See you in three moons, soldier.” You winked, leaving a gentle kiss on his bruised cheek, and Steve reached out to your face, rubbing circles on your chin with his dirty finger.

His hands were pretty busted up, his beaten body hurt - in this dream he was a deserter who turned against his government and joined you, a pirate, in your journeys. You tried finding the end of the Earth, and he loved every day he spent by your side on a ship in the middle of nowhere. He fought against other pirates and Royal Navy, sank ships, smoked like a chimney and drank like a fish, but, most of all, he got to touch you. In this dream he was your lover, and Steve felt like he was on the top of the world.

But all good things must come to an end, and for you it was time to wake up.

“But three moons is so long,” he muttered, looking at you through his long light eyelashes and biting on his lower lip. You smiled at him cheekily and gave him one more kiss - Steve tasted like blood, sweat and cheap rum.

“I’ll come back to you,” you promised, giving him a pat on the shoulder, “I always do.”

With that Steve watched you turning your back to him and slowly walking away somewhere to the pier surrounded by a thick white fog. When your distant figure disappeared from his view completely, Steve cried out on the top of his voice, clenching his bruised fists and squeezing his eyes shut. You didn’t hear him, already waking up in your warm comfy bed.

To you, these dreams were just a product of your magical imagination - your own little world created by your brain while you were asleep. You could never remember Steve’s face clearly as every time you woke up his features became somewhat distorted, blurry, and every time he was just some character inside your dream. Today he was a soldier. Two days ago he had been a warlock, and a week ago your colleague. He had always been there, inside your mind, but every time he was different - he even looked different, bearded or clean-shaved, blonde or dark-haired, skinny or beefy. But he had always been a part of your dream, a part of you, and without him the nights just weren’t the same.

Slowly waking up, you yawned and stretched in your bed, grasping your huge white pillow. Oh, this dream was a very good one. It’s a shame it ended so quickly, you thought and decided to get up to get ready for work before your alarm rang.

Aside from these dreams, you life was quite ordinary: an office worker with a stable, but rather boring job; you were still single despite your family attempts to fix you up with some decent man, and nothing particularly exciting awaited you in the nearest future, but you were alright with it. You had a good life, you thought.

Steve, on the other hand, had been in a state of utter despair for many months. It all started rather innocently as he decided to peep into a new colorful dream he stumbled upon and got curious, but then he suddenly got sucked in it as if you wanted him to be a part of it. He found himself in the middle of an enchanted forest, surrounded by elves and fairies, and realized he had ethereal wings on his back and a flower crown on his head. You were a curious little girl who got lost in the woods, and Steve became your charming guide, showing you the forest you yourself had created. 

“She's mad, but she's magic.“ He thought that time, leading you out of the woods straight to your bed when you started to wake up.

Being with you was fun. Steve enjoyed hearing your voice, listening to your stories, walking side by side with you, his little Alice - for you were little Alice that time, just a bit different one comparing to the original. He was lucky to stumble upon your dream again, and Steve entered it without hesitation. He ended up being a sick skinny boy laying in bed all the time, and you were taking care of him as his nurse. Though it was quite painful comparing to your first dream, Steve still liked it when you were kissing his forehead and wrapping him in warm blankets. 

Of course, he entered your third dream immediately as he saw it. He was keeping doing it all the time, forgetting about his own life in the magic realm and thinking of nothing but being close to you. It was an addiction, his friend Sam said, but Steve couldn’t be far away from you for too long. He just couldn’t.

Wandering the dark forest now as he ended up being thrown into his reality again after you woke up, he kept screaming and crying, feeling abandoned and forgotten. Oh, he wanted to be with you. He wanted to enter your world and see you asleep in your comfy bed, kiss your warm cheeks and smile at you when you would open your eyes and see he was here, with you.

He kept searching for a way to stay with you for longer than he could remember.

One more night, one more dream. Dressed in a fancy ballroom gown with frills and bows, your hair changing once in a few hours - all different colors and shapes and styles - you were trying to complete a quest you yourself had created but forgot about it. Steve wore an elaborate red, blue and white suit that looked like an imperial military uniform with a wide silk baldric and even carrying a sword - not a real one, though. He gained a bit of weight, he thought as he  touched his chubby cheeks and saw his rounding belly. It appeared Steve was a married middle-aged man in this dream, and he was married to you.

Married. It was the first time. Smiling and watching you through the glasses on his nose, Steve hurried after you, storming in search of answers. This time you were in a castle, and there was a carnival as people kept dancing or sneaking around, trying to solve the riddles. Steve wasn’t sure why the quest was important.

“Hurry, darling!” You asked him, motioning your husband to come closer to you while you stood near the shod gate to a little chapel, looking at the royal cyphers and odd symbols engraved on black steel. “I need you help.”

“I’m here, honey.” Steve smiled, rubbing your gentle hand in a white silk glove as he stared at the gate, trying to understand what you were looking for. “Remind me, why are we doing this again?”

“You silly!” You chuckled, your face growing hot from his little signs of affection. “We need to solve all the riddles to break free from the castle until midnight, otherwise we will stay here for the whole year before the next masquerade.”

Ooh. Yes, it sounded nice. It was exactly what Steve wanted - making your dream stay longer so he could use his magic to enter your realm while your spirit was trapped here. He could never even wish for this opportunity, and you were giving it to him yourself. 

Oh, you loved him. You most definitely loved him and were ready to give him a chance.

“Huh, let me have a look.” He whispered, propping his glasses on his nose and coming closer to the gate. “I think this cypher doesn’t match other ones.”

“I guess you’re right. Anyway, if we get the wrong one, the gate will remain close, so we will know.”

Smiling, Steve carefully withdrew a metal cypher that quickly popped up from the gate as if it wanted to be taken away, and the gate opened in front of you while you applauded your smart lovely husband. Watching your pretty face shining, the man bowed to you a little, making you go to the chapel first, and you hurried towards the stairs, not looking at him behind your back.

Taking one more cypher - the wrong one now - and locking the gate with a loud clanging, Steve smiled lovingly at you when you turned to face him behind the gate, your eyes growing wide.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” You asked him, not understanding why he left you here alone. “There are no more riddles here. Please, come, we need to enter the chapel.”

As you grabbed black iron bars, watching your husband with slight concern, Steve gave you a little peck on the lips quickly, hiding both cyphers in the pockets of his jacket. 

“My name is Steve, Y/N. I promise to come back shortly to you once I’ll bring your physical body here.”

When he pronounced the name you had never voiced in any of your dreams, probably unable to remember it in your sleep, your eyes shot open as you clamped a hand against your mouth, getting away from the gates. 

You realized you couldn’t wake up now.

________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @ninefuckingoneone

[kit-williams]

Fast Husbands and Wall Husbands

@moodymisty you might be able to help me with this

I, in a notebook, have figured out/bulletpoint ideas the rest of the yandere space marines except for White Scars and Imperial Fists and I'm at a fuckin loss.

Maybe I'll come back to this after I write everyone else but I also want to save probably the 2 darker (Black Legion and Salamander) Yandere's for the very end so that I can give everyone a chance to actually enjoy myself before I get dropped like a hot sack of potatoes for ya know writing something that is going to be grim and dark.

(Dear god if you thought what the Tyberos darling went through was bad I'm just gonna say it now... the Black Legion darling will have it worse.)

But I'm just at a loss for what is good material to inspire me for Imperial Fists and White Scars because I'm gonna be honest the Fists are one of my least favorite chapters (number one of least favorite is Iron Hands) and just the White Scars don't have a lot.

[flowesona]

The Emperor - Yandere! Jungkook x reader

The Tarot Series

(Y/N) was freezing, and the thin material she wrapped around herself did little to help. If anything, it made her feel more pathetic. How the mighty had fallen.

It was insane to think a mere week ago she’d been reading books and eating feasts in the palace with a loving husband at her side, yet now she was stuck in an underground prison being fed barely enough to survive. All thanks to the Emperor himself.

It had started when she’d received a marriage proposal from the Emperor’s brother. Her parents, excited by the prospect of such a high status, had immediately accepted, and within a few weeks (Y/N) was married. There were many aspects to her new life that were overwhelming at first, from the copious amount of wealth and the constant need for guards, but none were quite as terrifying as the attention she received from Jungkook himself. 

The Emperor was on a whole other level of entitlement than anyone she’d ever met. For the first week of living in the palace she didn’t see him once. Supposedly he’d had an argument with his brother over the marriage, as Jungkook had yet to be married himself and thus the matrimony was severely humiliating for him. But (Y/N) had heard of how he’d scared all previous candidates away, and it was clear he didn’t believe anyone would be his equal.

However, one afternoon, he’d requested to have a meeting with her in the gardens. When she’d arrived with her husband, Jungkook had immediately asked him to leave, saying that this was private business his brother had no right in knowing. And once they were alone the questions began.

It was like Jungkook wanted to know every single thing about her life, from her childhood to her family to her hobbies. All the while his eyes scrutinised her, piercing into her soul.

“Do you love my brother?” (Y/N) had felt her heart stop at the question. She couldn’t lie to the Emperor, but she couldn’t say no. 

“I am uncertain, your imperial majesty. But I am sure that my affection for my husband will grow as our marriage perseveres.” 

“I see.” Jungkook looked slightly torn, something clearly bothering him as he dismissed her, but (Y/N) pushed the matter to the back of her mind.

That night, she woke up to the sound of a thump outside her chamber. Cautiously, she reached out for the knife that she kept hidden next to the bed in case of emergencies and climbed out of bed, being careful not to wake her husband sleeping peacefully.

When she left her chamber, she saw the cause of the sound. The Emperor was leaning against the wall, the flush across his face being evidence enough that he was heavily intoxicated.

“Are you lost, Your Imperial Majesty?” (Y/N) asked, hiding the knife away in her sleeve.

“No… I came here to see *hic* you, (Y/N)...” Jungkook mumbled, stumbling forward and looping his hands around (Y/N)’s waist, nuzzling his face into her neck. She glanced towards the guards, seeing them watching the scene passively.

“Can you please accompany His Imperial Majesty back to his bedchamber? He is clearly intoxicated and needs some rest.” (Y/N) called out to them, but Jungkook shook his head furiously.

“No! I’m not going… not without you…” She felt like she was going to be sick as the emperor started to tug at her bed clothes, hands searching for the strings to undo her nightdress. It only got worse as Jungkook started to nip at her neck, leaving behind small marks and muttering something that (Y/N) could only distinguish as “I want you.”

It was when he finally started to go further, a hand lifting up her skirt that she acted, finding the knife she’d hidden up her sleeve and brandishing it.

Then, in a hotheaded moment of pure panic and fear, she slashed at one of his invasive hands. The sight of him withdrawing, clutching the bloody hand to his chest, was at first satisfying, but then terrifying, as his eyes were filled with unfathomable fury.

“Why are you just standing there? She attacked me!” The guards jumped into action at his words, capturing (Y/N)’s arms in seconds.

“What would you like us to do with her, Your Imperial Majesty?” One of the guards asked.

“Put her in one of the cells, we can negotiate a sentence later.” Jungkook ordered, unable to hide to grin on his face. “And where is someone to attend to my hand? Quickly, before I bleed out!” 

Hearing the shouts, more people arrived at the scene, eventually causing such a ruckus that (Y/N)’s husband emerged from his room, just in time to see his wife being dragged away.

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

(Y/N) had found her first night in the cell to be less than pleasant, to say the least. Thoughts of her fate kept her awake, dreading what was to come. She lost track of the hours, eventually managing to shut her eyes and sleep.

When she awoke, there was a visitor. Stood triumphantly in front of the bars, with a bandaged hand and a victorious smirk, was Jeon Jungkook.

“You look so beautiful when you sleep.” He purred. Noting the shocked expression on her face, he edged closer, slipping a hand through the bars to reach out for her touch, only for her to shrink away.

“Ah, you should not be so afraid, (Y/N). In fact, I am the one who should be afraid of you, after all.” (Y/N) shook her head, back pressed against the wall.

“You harassed me, but I am the one who is treated like a criminal. This is ridiculous.” She snapped, immediately cursing herself and her sharp witted defense. But rather than get angry, Jungkook just chuckled.

“That’s right. No matter what, I win. But, you don’t have to suffer.” He withdrew a key hanging around his neck to unlock the door, stepping inside.

“I’m sure you can tell from my… actions… last night that I need to be with you. I propose that you may become my concubine.” Jungkook seated himself on the creaky metal bed next to her, the warmth from his body being very much welcome in the cold atmosphere of the cell. He removed the long coat he was wearing and draped it around her shoulders, instantly providing relief. “I am sure that my brother does not care to see you after you attacked me last night, so you would live in my quarters, sleep with me. Rather like a marriage, except obviously we cannot-”

“No.” (Y/N) said shortly. “I’m sorry Your Imperial Majesty, but I will have to decline.”

“Why?” Instantly the Emperor was angered, standing up and shouting. “I could easily have you executed for attacking me, yet I make such a gracious offer and you decline.”

His lip curled into a snarl as he stormed away shutting the cell door with a loud bang and locking it, pulling the key around his neck once more. 

“Enjoy rotting here then. Maybe you’ll appreciate my offer when you’ve seen what your alternative is.”

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

She was barely alive, she knew that much. With only Jungkook’s coat to keep her warm and a few candles on the wall outside to give her light, her days were numbered in these conditions. Of course, he made sure she was nourished, always being the one to bring her a cup of water and a measly portion of food with a taunting smirk and a reminder of his offer.

However, clearly he’d been too busy, or perhaps he was holding out on her just to make her a bit more desperate, as her stomach growled loudly in protest of her conditions.

She could only guess it was daytime when she heard someone enter the room. She barely had the energy to open her eyes, although she didn’t need to to know who her visitor was.

“I’m getting tired of this charade, (Y/N).” She finally peeled open her exhausted eyes to look at him, standing there. There was nothing in his hands at all, offering no hope to (Y/N). “I’ve been so generous to you. So this is your ultimatum. You can choose me, or death.”

She didn’t reply, feeling a sob rise up in her chest at the despair of her situation.

“It’s your choice, (Y/N). Reject me and continue to suffer, or marry me and return to the life of bliss I know that you crave so much.” Jungkook growled. “You cannot continue to disrespect me like this and face no consequences. I am your Emperor, your leader and you will love me.”

When she still stayed silent, he banged a fist against the bars.

“Do you want to die? (Y/N), you are driving me insane!” 

“Please… just stop this…” She whimpered.

“Stop this? Let you out? Gladly! So you’re finally agreeing?” Jungkook looked elated.

(Y/N) just weakly nodded as he unlocked the door, striding over to scoop up her weak form into his arms.

“I’m so glad, (Y/N). I don’t know what I could do without you in my life.”

Yet, as he barked out orders for a bath to be drawn and a hot meal prepared, all (Y/N) could think about was how blessed she would be to have never entered his life in the first place.

[yandere-wishes]

Red Roses //Yandere! Kouen x Reader//

First song fic! For prompt 23 “We paint white roses red each shade from a diffrent person’s head”

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

You glared angrily at the fleet of guards that surrounded you, soldiers sent to accompany you from your homeland, and soldiers sent to deliver you to the royal palace. Each of their porcelain faces where stoic deprived of any inkling of emotion. 'Mindless brutes' you thought furiously to yourself. 

You didn't want to be here, you didn't want to have anything to do with the corrupt kingdom of Kou. But alas what choice did you have? As the first princess of the Persian empire, it was your royal duty to forge an alliance with one of the most powerful empires that currently stood. Of course, when you and your father had set out to create this "so-called" alliance nither of you had expected the second prince of the Kou -scrawny dead-looking, thing he was-to proposes an arranged marriage to his older brother. 

"No chance! No way!" you tried to invoke reason, hoping to convince your father and his court to decline the offer. It had almost worked too, your father ready to decline the proposal and instead search for a different route. That was until one of his top advisers began singing fables of what a magnificent ruler Kouen ren was, how he had conquered three dungeons a near-impossible task! After that, your pleas fell on deaf ears. Your father had become so entranced with the idea of his eldest daughter marrying a renowned dungeon capture that he stopped caring about who you wanted to marry.

The truth of the matter was, you didn't doubt that Kouen ren was a good man, a good future king, heck he may even be a good husband if you gave him a chance...but that could never happen, for another had captured your heart. Your attention, a man that had served you since both of you were merely little children oblivious to the troubles of the world. He had been your closest friend from before you could properly speak, the one you confined in more than your own flesh and blood. You loved him and he loved you. You dreamed of marrying him one day, so the two of you could rule toghter....yet somehow in a matter of days all your planes had been shattered you were no longer free to marry whomever you pleased. So much for a childhood love story gone right.

The emerald palace danced in view, its glittering walls were practically blinding. Steadily you marched forward in toe with the guards. Your eyes darted frantically trying to find the man that would soon be your husband. The only description you had gotten was that he was a tall man with crimson hair. Secretly you wished that he was hideous or had some major flaws like missing a limp or a tooth or lacking any manners. Anything that would give you a centimeter of leverage to use against this marriage.

The thick iron doors split, presenting you to a crowded room or guards, political leaders, and the imperial family - or what was left of it- along with the infamous dark magi. Your eyes trailed over each person linger longer than it should have. Dread slowly built up in your stomach, oh how you wished to be anywhere but here. Your steps where uneven wobbly and ill elegant. When you reached the head of the room, you shakily took a knee, eyes once more gazing at the blood-colored carpet in front of you.

"Please rise your highness" a raucous voice declared.

Anxiously you pushed your self off the floor, eyes still lingering on the floor. When your orbs finally rose to meet the prince, you were met with an emotionless looking man, his eyes seemed to be judging you, critiquing every breath you took, scars littered his arms and hands, occupying every inch of skin. Somewhere faded other a bright scarlet matching his messy locks. "So you are the princess of the Persian empire? I have to say I'm rather disappointed. When they spoke of you they made you out to be a sort of fierce intellectual, practically a scholar. But you, standing here before me, appear more like a little lost sheep who strayed too far from their flock." Every word the man spoke was gritty and harsh his tone was that of war drums declaring the commencement of a bloody battle. 

Somewhere from the crowd laughter echoed, flowed by a harsh slapping noise and a whiny plea of "Mei it was funny" "Yeah ugly stop being just a stick in the--ow ow okay okay I'll stop, you gloomy-looking rat!" 

An embarrassed blush sprinkled your cheeks, how dare this man defile you in such a manner! How dare his "family" have the nerve to laugh at you as if you were a court jester! Straightening your spine and raising your head higher, you proclaimed as proudly as you could! "It's been a long trip, your highness, I would very much like to retire to my room and further discuss the details of this forced marriage in the morning. " 

Your eyes never once strayed away from his, your fingers had balled into tight fists, making your knuckles turn a snowy white. Passively Kouen waved a hand and a couple of maids rushed to your side using you out the side doors and down the long hallway. From the distance, you could faintly hear a gritty chuckle flowed by the red-haired man's sharp voice. "Force marriage she says"...

Night in the palace of this far off land was nothing like back home, they were restless and noisy. screams and whines filled the air with occasional noise of breaking objects and shatter glass. You had counted about eight times that a young female voice and a high pitch more masculine voice were screaming after a third party. Judar you believed the name was. children the lot of them where. You could even hear the voice of your "finance" yelling at someone to "get out of the dame library" and to "sleep in your own bed like a normal person!". It was hectic pure chaos. You leaned against your open window, peering out at the Jade city. Each of the houses and monuments shimmered in the moon's spotlight, like jewelers hanging from a pendant. For a merciful second, you began to forget your unjust predicament, instead of getting lost in the beauty of your future city.

Lost in your pitiful trance you didn't notice someone scaling up the palace walls. Until they had reached the window's edge. Noticing the hands you quickly recoiled, eyes wide with terror, your mouth was purchased ready to scream when the intruder pulled themselves up. They're basking in the moon's glory was none other than the boy of your dreams, your childhood lover. Your eyes began to tear up as he pulled himself into your room. "My darling?" His voice was so gentle like the finest silks, it wasn't terrifying or degrading in the least, unlike your husband to be's, rough military-like voice. Swiftly you ran up to your lover, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in this chest. "I miss you" he cooed as his fingers curled lock of your hair. His hands cupped your cheeks tilting your head so you faced him. "We haven't much time" he muttered, quickly detaching your arms from his neck. He scurried over to where your bags were, shutting them and dragging them by the window.

"I can't just leave!" you bellowed, "What about the alliance? What will Persia do if I suddenly disappear?" You looked at your lover's eyes sucking in every detail about him. For this could very well be the last time you saw him. "They'll send one of your sisters to marry that vain man! Why must it be you? You and I can run away, live a peaceful like in another kingdom far away from the nation's troubles!" He hoisted a bag up the window frame ready to jump down. "Well you do make a compelling poi--"

The door creaked open, permitting a white light from the hallway to spill inside. Meackly stepping inside was none other than the eighth imperial princess herself Kougyoku Ren. Her hair lost from it's usual restrains and instead of her usual long dress, she was dressed in a simple rosy nightgown. "Hey (y/n) I was thinking that since you're...." Her voice trailed off as she spotted the scene in front of her. Her lips stretched into a thin line. Shakily she took a step back, her pink eyes never once leaving either of you. "KOUEN!" her voice bounced off the walls echoing across the castle. In a matter of moments, a thunder of footsteps were heard.

You gulped rushing towards your childhood friend and trying to shield him from the guards that poured in. "Kouen! She-she's trying to escape." Kougyoku blurted out the moment her brother rushed to her side. From between the guards you caught Kouen's eyes, they held a sort of....glee. Not malice, not anger, not hate but a sort of deranged happiness.

You watched helplessly as the guards dragged your lover from the room. Every time you tried to latch yourself onto him one of the guards would pull you off and push you behind him. The room emptied out quickly, The guards all leaving to deal with the intruder and Kouen shooing his sister to her room. You double-checked, his face was deprived of frustration...maybe that wasn't a good thing, his lips were turned into upwards into a mangled grin, his eyes wide with an evil type of joy. In a few short threatening steps, he was right in front of you. He gripped your wrist and pulled you to his chest, stroking your head with his free hand. "Get some sleep, my darling wife, I want you to be fully awake for tomorrow." with that he gave you an almost loving kiss on the forehead before heading out. Leaving you to tumble to the floor as nonstop tears flew from your eyes.

The next morning you found yourself standing in the gardens with the first imperial prince. That horrid grin still dancing across his face. "You clearly aren't accustomed to the manner in which we do things here in the Kou empire, so allow me to explain. You see here in Kou we do now have red roses." He lifted a finger to point at some rose bushes on the further side of the garden. Somewhere a striking scarlet, while others, an innocent white. "So we paint white roses red, each shade from a different person's head". Your breath hitched in your throat. "Please don't do this" you begged, meekly you grabbed at his arm trying to earn an ounce of sympathy from him. Instead, he just chuckled. "It's a little late for that my dear bride to be" you followed his gaze, just in time to see the executioner lower the sword, slicing off your lover's head.

Time seemed to have frozen, blood spurted outstanding the once pure white roses. The open-air was filled with monotone applause....and your defeated sobs.

[thesundropfalls]

Unprepared, untrained, and fatally unskilled (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Word count: 6.5K

Setting: PreTFA (The Force Awakens)

Summary: You've lived a quiet life so far in Naboo, coming from the Naberrie household. When a deadly mistake turns you into an informant for the Resistance, you're forced to go into hiding. As if that weren't enough, a particular Pilot's interest in you is piqued. Navigating an affair with a hot-headed flyboy and an Empire's downfall, you learn that no one is truly on your side.

Warnings: 18+ This is a violent, smut heavy series. It features Punishment, Dubious consent, Non-consensual sex, Mentions of rape, Masturbation, Oral sex, Praise kink, Slight Yandere, Violence, Gore, Drugs, Character Death, and way too much personification of nature. If you are uncomfortable with any of those, please DO NOT start this series. They will be featured in the next few chapters.

"Shuttle stop... eight thousand paces... Entry borders..." You mutter, repeating your Master's directions. It has to be here. It has to. What else were you to do?

"You will make it to the resistance base." You hype to yourself, lifting your chin. "You won't die a sweaty death on this Maker-forsaken planet." You weren't sure whether saying it aloud was an attempt to self-soothe or to boost your determination, either way, you didn't buy it.

The pilot droid had informed you that a mile of jungle separated the base from the shuttle stop. Was it joking? Can droids joke? It must have been. You could cross a mile in fifteen minutes, yet you've been maneuvering through forestry for half a day.

This steamy muck maze was loud. Distractingly loud. The low humming and chirping of critters drone in your ears, warning you of their presence. Every living thing could sting, poison, or kill you if they wished. Vastly different from your calm shores of crystal in Naboo. You came knowing that, but just how different they were, your Master never could prepare you for.

Your toes ached from being bashed into roots, the soles of your once new shoes had worn through hours ago. However, tripping and not falling flat on your face was an achievement you let yourself be proud of.

You couldn't even walk on this planet, let alone breathe. A blanket of moist air engulfs your body, filling your lungs with a dense humidity. It was sickening. Yet, onward you trudge. Maybe there was a path just behind that brush, or that clearing, or that tree. Maybe.

Looking up, you try searching overhead for the suns, attempting to find a navigation point. Still, all you were met with was a high canopy of thick vines and branches. It stretched for miles, sunlight only peaking through cracks the vegetation left vulnerable.

A buzzing grew loud in your ear, making your stomach drop like a stone.

"Mother of moons-" A surge of adrenaline shoots through your body as a mosquito lands on your bare shoulder. It was huge-at least the size of a small Voorpak.

You barely have a chance to squeak before it sinks its proboscis deep into your muscle tissue. With a smack of your palm, you burst it's engorged stomach sack on your skin, spewing its juices over your collar.

You gag and scrape the fluid off of your hand onto the bark of a poor nearby tree. The liquid is thickly viscous for some reason, but you weren't about to investigate and find out why. Now you regret discarding the D'qar environmental manual on your shuttle from Naboo. At least it was dead. The proof was on your shoulder.

You reach into your satchel and slip on a patterned kaftan of your own design. You couldn't have insect guts smeared all over yourself when you meet with General Organa, could you? If you ever did make it there.

As you walked, you allowed your conscious to amble backward through your memories. It showed you a glimpse of the mistake that brought you to the jungle in the first place.

....

You scurried down the hall, skirts balled in your fist as not to trip over them. You've never been late. In all eleven years of working for The General, your Master, you've never been late. There was a chance, though. That he wasn't already in his quarters, you could work at triple speed to clean all of the surfaces before he arrived.

You prayed you wouldn't find him there as you turned the corner and pressed the door's opening hatch. Sure enough, the room was empty.

"Thank the Maker." You sighed in relief, shoulders slumping. You got to work as quick as lightning. Cloth in hand, you scrubbed the woodwork, decorations, counter surfaces, and wiped off anything with a coating of dust.

Despite your daily efforts, all your Master ever noticed was if the rooms smelled cleaner than he left it. You made a mental note to hide a different vial of herbs in his wardrobe each morning. The last task was to replace it, and then you could scoot away without penalty. Lady luck was on your side this morning, you thought. Being much too short to reach their designated place on the upper shelf, you stepped into the closet and shut the doors behind you.

That's when you heard it. The sound of the door's hatch flying open. Your Master.

Dread melted a pit in your stomach. You wanted to shrink out of existence, to dig a hole and crawl in to die. You contemplated revealing yourself. But what would you say to him then? You'd have no excuse for it. Surely he'd send you away. It would cost you your job, and you'd be back begging on the streets. So you stilled, the force of fear stopped your hand from pushing open doors.

Your Master began to speak, and a static voice replied.

"General Pyrus. They've taken over my cruiser. I haven't much time--"

"Quickly now. Tell me."

"Eighteen point two thousand-- two hundred and eight degrees north, sixty-six point five thousand nine hundred and one degrees west. Star system collective--" The static voice cut in and out. "Passkey--Saint Alchemy."

"And the code?"

"--Digits MC-32809. I can't hold them off-- I failed her."

" You haven't. You followed orders. You did everything right."

"The base is on D'qar, find Leia-- Find the resi--" Blaster fire overtook the static intercom. The line ended.

The gasp that escaped your lips was less suppressed than you realized.

Did you just hear someone die? Was the man on the intercom shot? What was your Master talking about? Who shot him?

Your head swirled with unanswered questions, distracting you from the volume of your stunted breathing. Your second mistake.

A gloved hand shot through the crack of the door and yanked you from your hideaway. With a shriek, you spilled out onto the floor of the office. You made a feeble attempt to scramble to your knees, but your Master held you down by the neck of your collar.

"Traitorous bitch!" He spat on you.

You shook your head rapidly in denial, eyes wet. "Please, Sir I-"

"Who do you work for? Shadow collective? The First Order? Imperial commandos? Speak!" He ordered.

Shock shot up your veins and froze your system. You stared at him, agape and quivering. You forced the words to pass around the stone in your throat. "I-I... I do- I don't know-know. I don't know... Master, please plea- please." You choked.

Your Master grew impatient with you and tightened his constricting grasp, "Tell me at once, spy!"

"I work for you!" You finally shouted, eyes screwed shut for protection. "I have for eleven cycles, Master." You put your hands up in defense, who betrayed you with how vigorously they trembled.

"And I'm- I'm no... I'm not a spy, please, Master. I-I... I overslept and came to work late. I didn't mean to intrude. I was cleaning your quarters, and then you- you came home." Your lungs cried for a gulp of air, spent on stuttering.

He stared down at you, seething. You couldn't read his expression as it was teetering between sincere regret and anger. You didn't know which one you least preferred, either way, it was mortifying to be cast such a look. You prayed for him to recognize you, to see past the vulnerability, and identify you as you were-one of his handmaidens, his best.

"I was going to come out and apologize, I swear it!" You begged him. "But, you started to speak to someone..." You hesitated, wondering if you should admit to what you heard. You decided upon it against your better judgment. "...Someone that was killed, Sir."

Watching his eyes fill with slight sorrow, you bit back tears and pipped up again, "But I am no spy, I am no traitor! I swear it on my mother's name."

"Of course you aren't," Pyrus released his grip, letting you fall back to the floor. Your hands shot up to your neck and held the strangled area as a sweet breath of air filled your lungs.

"Much too stupid to be a spy. Do you have any idea what you've just done?" He boomed, his spit rained over your red face.

"It was nothing I heard, nothing at all!" You defended, holding your hands up to him for grace.

"You dare lie to me, that message was highly classified, higher than your comprehension, you foolish girl." He hovered tall above you, "I should have to kill you. I cannot risk the possibility of having you captured by the First Order."

"Please, please..." You fell on your chest, face smashed against the abrasive carpeting. Tears streamed hotly down the sides of your face, burning your skin.

You wept for a long time. Minutes passed, and still, Pryus looked down upon you pitifully. He gave no response to your cries, weighing his options grievously. All the while, you prepared to be shot.

"Get up," He commanded, breaking his silence.

"Master?" You croaked, peeling your cheek from the floor.

Pyrus stamped the heel of his boot, "I said, get up."

You wasted not another second to scramble to your feet, yet you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, tears steadily trickling down your flushed face.

"No more blood will be spilled over the safe delivery of this code. I have a task for you." Pyrus said and stalked across the room to his desk. He leaned over its polished surface and shifted weight upon his knuckles.

"Originally, I was to deliver the code to General Leia Organa via intercom. However, I haven't been able to reach her." He raked a hand through his scalp, "I can only assume that they've been working underground to evade the First Order. We must pray that they've been successful."

You stared at your shoes, still sniffling and wiping the damp mess from your face with the frill of your sleeve. The First Order, The Resistance, General Organa, all those which you heard about through heated debates or hushed rumors. Up until this point, you never honestly considered them to be real things and not the gossip of the serving class.

Pyrus turned to face you, "It appears that I need a new messenger. And now that you've heard the code, I can't let you go. You're sure to be captured."

You cradled your opposite forearm, "I swear it, Master. I can't remember any such code. I wasn't trying to listen." Besides that, it didn't make sense as to how anyone could find out your attachment to this, this code thing. Whatever it was.

"It's not what you can remember. It's what they can pull out of you." He corrected, folding his arms across his chest. "The First Order possess the power of the dark side, the power to reach into your mind and pluck any information they need."

Dark side. Power. These things shouldn't be spoken of in such a setting. You were wary of believing in them, but for argument's sake, you didn't question it. "Master, if that is the case, you are no more safe than I. They could capture you too. What makes it so that you could not deliver it yourself?"

"I am a General of the national court. I have a battalion to command. The importance of your life is but a grain of sand compared to mine." He snapped. "You can be spared, the people of Naboo depend on my lead." He held no emotion in his voice. There was truth in his statement, irrefutably there was truth. It made his words sting no less.

Pryus sighed and crossed the room to you, "Howbeit, the burden of this information gives you more substance than yourself alone. An informant you will be. You have no such skill to have been granted such a task, but as fate would have it, you have been."

"Am I still... I still have a job here?"

"If you cooperate." He nods, "Now, repeat to me what you heard."

"Coordinates, yes. It sounded like coordinates, Was it?" You suggest, seeking his approval. He stared at you simply, his silence beckons you to reach farther.

"Also... Maybe a-a pass-... um... a passkey of some kind. Saint..." You begin to rack your brain, the flutters of your heartbeat picking up into a pound. Nothing else in your memory, nothing but the static sound of blaster fire. Giving up, your chest fell, "Master, I just don't remember."

Pryus bid you closer, "Listen carefully now. I"m going to give you the rest of the code, but you'll need to do exactly as I say."

Your heart sank deeper, "I have to comply, I can't refuse?"

"You're certainly allowed to refuse." He clenched his jaw, "But, I would deem it most unwise."

...

It pulls you from your thoughts, and at first, you think you imagine it-faint sounds of machinery that fill your ears. And then you see it, hints of civilization sparkling in the distance. Filled with delight and newfound faith, your pace quickens. You're almost weightless as you speed to what must be the borders of the base.

You, unknowingly, were about to be smacked with the reality of the universe. Merrily skipping into a stark ambiance of war and battlefront lines that you were strictly unprepared for. Of course, you understood the circumstance. Warfare massacred the outskirts of your own homeworld. You spent a portion of your youth hearing about the slaughter of millions and the depopulation of planets. You understood the urgency.

Maybe a call to action or perhaps a way to pull yourself from poverty, your intentions were muddled. The very moment you became of age, You took the position to serve a General of the political guard, Master Ranrat Pyrus. Acting as a servant to his beck and call, you were made a Handmaiden. From your impoverished point of view, it was an occupation of luxury, easy money with a decent prospect of living.

And that's what it was, at first. Your Master was decent to you, so you remained in his staff.

Despite the direness of war, the way of life on your mother world had bound itself to your soul and engraved clearly into your features. Your skin had memorized the way the Naboo suns kissed you, replicating the glow for others to covet. Your feet grew up wading in cool liquid crystal and traveling naked across cushy sandbars. Every cycle, the renewed sky sent her gusts of wind to tussle and play with your hair.

Your fingertips knew the intricately woven fabrics of lakeside merchants. Who's real craft was haggling prices. Their wrinkled faces used to light up at the sight of their oldest customer combing shelves for a bargain of delicate satin. Lakeside lifestyle proudly shone on your body, and it's culture woven into your hair like ribbons on royalty.

You would miss that life dearly, once you realized it was gone.

Passing the border, you stepped into a clearing of roaring engines and the working of machines. Beeping droids busy with their tasks hustled past you. Mission alarms rang out overhead as X-wing pilots wrestled the motors of old beasts alive. Gusts of wind exploded in your ears, and Welders sent sparks of fire outward in a show of skill. All the while, tubes of engine fuel decorated the floor, pumping the metal to life.

The sight of it took your breath away. Absently, you stepped backward, overwhelmed by it all. You've never seen so many machines in one place, all working furiously for their created purpose.

Is this where you've been sent? Among pilots for weapons of destruction? Masters of war? Decorated soldiers with bravery and-

Metal rammed into your calves, knocking you off your feet. The ground swiftly rose up to collide with your backside.

"Oh," You were on the floor.

Shifting your gaze, you sucked in a startled breath, coming face to face with a droid. It chirped at you. You must've run into it.

It whirred and blinked once more, rolling forward and bumping your kneecap accusedly.

Should you apologize? Would it understand you? You didn't understand binary, let alone speak it.

The shock of the situation began to roll off your shoulders, staring at it wouldn't do you any good.

"I uh, I'm sorry. Are you alright?" You inquired slowly, testing its comprehension.

It circled you, chirping at you frustratedly.

It wasn't alright.

"Hey!" You heard a shout over the working of machinery. Your attention snapped to an orange figure charging towards you.

Yeah, that was definitely directed at you.

You promptly stood and dusted off your pants. Thinking the figure to be a superior, your tongue hastily began to gather apologies, preparing to spit them out in your defense.

Kriffing hell, were you really about to get reprimanded? You hadn't even finished walking to your destination, how useless were you?

"What's your problem?" The man barks, not sparing you a glance and bending down to search the droid of any injuries.

"I'm sorry! Sir, please. I apologize, I just- I didn't see it." You stammer, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

Maybe if you bat your pretty little eyelashes, he wouldn't stick you on the first shuttle to Mustafar before you had a chance to meet with the General.

He whips his head back around, fully prepared to chew you out for all you were worth. His eyes, full of annoyance, lock with yours.

"I'm sure you di-" He hesitates, the anger he once held seems to vacate his expression. He let his eyes drift down your body, if only for a second. They come back up briskly, connecting with yours once again.

"I, uh, I don't..." The droid beeps and whirrs to him. He shrugs at the droid and then shifts his focus back to you as he gathers himself.

"Are you okay, miss? M'sorry, my buddy here can be somewhat of a rustbucket sometimes." He encouragingly rubs the side of his droid and stands, extending his hand to you. "My name's Poe, Poe Dameron. Black Leader, Commander of Rapier Squadron."

His tone was relaxed; he wasn't going to reprimand you. Your shoulders drop in relief. His eyes strike you, the intensity of his stare was almost uncomfortable. Almost. You step back out of respect and secret intimidation.

"Well met, Poe Dameron. Y/n Naberrie." You swallow stones. Your palm opens to accept, and his calloused hand envelops yours in a gentle squeeze as you tell him your name.

Poe seems to focus on you as if he'd never been introduced to someone before. You watch his lips repeat your name no louder than a whisper, playing with the sound on his tongue.

Growing impatient, the droid below him started to whirr and rolls straight into his shin.

"Shit! Calm down, BB." He nudges the bottom of the droid with the heel of his boot, silently communicating with his droid to stop shaking his game. "This is BB-8, astromerch unit. For a piston head, his circuit board must be cross-wired over the moons today. So much for ninety-eight suit programmings. I just..." Poe trails off with a laugh, his mouth seals when he recognizes confusion in your eyes.

Sod it. He knows you didn't understand him.

You cough a short laugh, praying that he'd take it as a delayed response. "Oh yeah, totally. I just, I'm new." You explain, "I'm uh, actually not supposed to be out here, I don't think."

Your eyes dart around the courtyard, debating whether to explain your situation to him. Poe seemed kind for a Commanding Officer, maybe a little hyper-fixated, but kind. You could trust him in pointing you in the right direction.

"I'm looking for the Control Center," You breathe, "I have business General Organa." You'd let him know that much.

"Oh yeah, that's in the Eastern Sector over..." He pauses to think it over, "Why don't I show you?"

"You aren't terribly busy, are you?" You shift your gaze down to BB-8, who was silent but beginning to vibrate out of frustration.

"I was assessing some damage on a processing unit, but BB'll take care of it, won't you bud?" Poe makes an expression to the droid that you couldn't explain, and with a whirr, BB-8 scooted away.

You'd never seen a droid of that model before, not that you had seen many before. This one was just a ball of steel with an attitude.

"He's kinda cute, your droid." You muse after he rolls around the corner out of earshot.

"He's adorable," Poe corrects. "But don't tell him that," the corner of his mouth tugs up into a smirk. It rests so comfortably on his face, and you could only imagine how many hours of the day he spent wearing it.

"Shall we?" He holds his arm out for yours to slip into. To that, you stifle a laugh, waiting for his lead. He waited too.

Oh, he's serious.

"Maker, I'm sorry." You hesitate, then slip your arm into his. This is awful cordial for a military fort, was it not? His grip is soft but firm. The padding of his jumpsuit acts as a barrier between his skin and yours. For a moment, you imagine what it would feel like bare, probably the same as his grip.

He pays no mind and leads you out of the yard and down to a concrete runway. A neverending lane of battleships, a full fleet of them were parked in several rows. They stood so tall, taller than you ever would've guessed. These couldn't be the same ones that passed through your village. They seemed so tiny in the sky. Every few cycles, you would see an armada of spacecraft torpedo through the air. They were pilots of the republic, and they were right in front of you.

They weren't new, though. As beautiful as the beasts were, they ran half as well as they did in their prime. Ladies of war now in their sunset years, called to action one last time. Leave it to you to think rustbuckets to be poetic.

Poe noticed your taken expression with each passing ship, "Never seen an x-wing fleet before?"

"I can't say I have. Where I'm from, we don't get many fleets of anything, let alone pilots. It's a bit of a nowhere." You say, trying your best not to get whistful.

"A nowhere, is that where this is from?" He gestured to your brightly colored Kaftan, "Because I gotta find out where I can get me one of these things."

A giggle slips past your filter. Pupils mooning, you bring your hand impulsively over your mouth.

You giggled. In front of a Commanding officer, no less. Not that Poe acted very commanding.

He turns his head to squint at you, "What's the matter, you don't like your laugh?"

You shook your head quickly and smiled, "No, I'm fine with my laugh. That one was just- I dunno, it wasn't my normal one."

"I think you're lying." Poe unlinks your arms and shifts his weight against the side of the Hanger bay. "I think you're trying to spare me of how weird your laugh is." He beamed.

Did he just-

You stare at him, amazed by how brazen he is. "Wow." You scoff, deciding to join his banter. "You accuse me of lying, and you call my laugh weird? You're making an enemy with the wrong person here, Commander." You warn.

He huffs a laugh, "You gonna trip over my droid again? Threatening."

You gasp, "That's too soon."

"Did I offend you?" He asks.

"Oh, greatly, Commander. Y'know you're the first person I've met so far, and I already don't like you." You smile sadly.

Feigning offense, he places a hand over his heart, "You don't like me? Oh, you're breakin' my heart, Princess. Maybe if you just got--"

"Am I interrupting something?" Her voice rips Poe's attention from you as she enters the room. You only then realize that you had stopped walking. Corridor walls surrounded you with panels of directory projections, the Control room.

The Commander stiffens like a board, greeting his superior, "General Organa."

Leia dressed in blue tactical robes you gape at. The material was exported from Alderaan, a planet destroyed not forty cycles ago. You've scoured fabric shops in the markets of your city every chance you got. Seldom did you ever come across material procured in Alderaan.

You bit your tongue to keep from expressing your excitement. Another time, not now.

"Commander." She addresses Poe, waiting for an explanation.

"I have someone here to see you." He steps aside, uncovering you for her to behold. You scrounge up your courage and approach her, "General Organa, my name is-"

"Stop." She cuts you off, a wary look in her eyes. "I know who you are."

"Oh." Your gaze nervously flickers between Poe and her. "You do?"

She gives no reply and turns to Poe, "Dameron, leave us."

"General." Poe gives a curt nod to his superior and flashes you a quiet smile before slipping out of the corridor. His reassuring glance eases your nerves only slightly.

"Come, Naberrie." The General pivots on her heel and strides down the hall. You follow closely; anticipation sits heavily on your chest. She doesn't take your arm as she leads you, it must be a Poe thing. You pass through narrow vestibules with stark white luster. She doesn't say a word the entire way.

Stopping at the room's opening hatch so abruptly you almost ram into her, She grabs the cuff of your sleeve and pulls you inside. It was a small space, only equipped with an empty bunk, a table, and two chairs-no lights, no windows, only the iridescent glow that spills in from the hall.

You begin to make your statement, "General-"

"Call me Leia. We're much past that now." She asserts and closes the hatch.

"Right," You start over, "Leia. I have something to-"

"Please, do hold on. I must make you aware of the gravity of this situation. Sit." Leia gestures to a chair, you comply. This woman loved to interrupt people, you could barely get a word in. You could tell that she was less than thrilled to be meeting with you, and you were more than prepared to deliver the code and take the first Port Shuttle to Naboo.

Leia sat across from you and garnered your attention. "Now, what you carry with you is a code, one of three. It was made by the original crafters of the SSI-U vehicles. That includes X-wings, TIE fighters, boarding craft, land assault units, hyperspace probes, and Star-destroyers. Are you familiar?"

"Not really, no." You answer, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Why did she bother explaining? You were oblivious to the origins of the code, and you preferred it that way. It wasn't your assignment nor something you wanted to get further tangled up in. The faster you could rid yourself of it, the faster you could come home. Being hesitant to listen, but much too terrified to interrupt, you remain quiet.

She waves her hand in dismissal, "It's not that critical, but the maker's code is. When entered into a central command board, which all fleets have, it overrides the system to self-destruct. All of it obliterated."

"That's- That's why you need it? To destroy the First Order's fleet?" You inquire.

She shakes her index, "So they don't destroy ours. See, the code applies to the Resistance, as well as the republic. If the Order had gotten their hands on it, it would've cost us greatly. They would have terminated our fleet, and we would have no resources to fight against them. The war would end."

"So why, um... Why not use the code to like- destroy their fleet instead?" You cautiously suggest, your nerves audibly slip into your tone. "You can do that, right?"

"Their central command board is in the middle of the Starkiller base. As skilled as we are, we could never infiltrate their ranks. That's not to say we aren't working on it. Someday we'll be able to, but until then we cant use the--" Leia trails off, her eyebrows scrunch with concern.

"Stay with me, Naberrie." She orders.

Her voice is distant. You pull yourself from your fixation to the spinning room, which was much darker than it was before. She must've noticed your gaunt expression. Your eyes snap up to meet hers, and after a breath, you nod for her to continue.

"Again," Leia restates, "We can't use the code, but we can protect it. And it's best protected with very few people knowing. Which is where you come in." She gestures to you.

"So, keep it under wraps." You pat your hands flat over your lap. "I can do that."

She lowers her chin to her chest and looks at you sternly, "It's a little more complicated. But before we come to that, I need you to agree to some terms."

"Anything." You nod.

"It's easier if you remain calm for this part. Yes and No answers are acceptable. Hold your questions until the end." She began, sealing the confidentiality of the conversation. "What you say to me now cannot leave this room. The content of the information you carry has the capabilities of genocide to the trillions. Should this information fall into the wrong hands, that is exactly what will happen. Do you understand?"

You nod again.

"I need a verbal response."

"Yes, I understand."

"At any point, did you reveal the code shared with you by General Pyrus to a third party?"

"No."

"At any point were you bribed to reveal the code?"

"No."

"Are you aware of anyone besides yourself, General Pyrus, or his informant sharing the code?"

"No."

"Are you aware that there could be any number of bounties on your head as a means to get to this information?" Leia deadpans the question like it was similar to the ones she had asked previously.

Your heart stops beating, and you blink at her, "What? What bounties? Like bounty hunter bounties or-"

"Yes or no, Naberrie." She stresses frustratedly.

You exhale in defeat, "I am now, yes."

Maker, she must be disappointed. You could almost hear her blood pressure rise as she tightened her jaw and began the next question. "Are you willing to accept the Resistance's protection for yourself as an informant?"

"What does that-" You stop yourself, hands raised apologetically, "Yes, I am."

"Good." Leia shuffles to the edge of her seat, "Now tell me the code."

There it is. She asked for it. The code. You knew this. A long-anticipated shiver crawls up your spine, and you clear your throat. "I was sent with the coordinates to eighteen point two thousand two hundred and eight degrees north, sixty-six point five thousand nine hundred and one degrees west. Star system collective, passkey Saint Alchemy. Digits MC-32809." You breathe, an immense weight expels itself from your chest, you breathe deeper.

Leia casts her stare through your person, to the end of the room. "Say it one more time."

You didn't register her command, "What?"

"Just say it one more time."

You nod and repeat yourself. "Coordinates eighteen point two thousand two hundred and eight degrees north, sixty-six point five thousand nine hundred and one degrees west. Star system collective." You took another painful breath of air. "Passkey Saint Alchemy. Digits MC-32809."

The General's eyes were empty, she sat deathly still. You witness her silently burn the information in her memory.

"Shouldn't you write this down?" You break her stare, immediate regret started to prick your fingertips.

Her gaze fell to the floor, "It isn't worth the risk." Meeting your eyes again, she asks, "You're sure it's correct? There hasn't been an opportunity for it to have become tainted on your behalf?"

You shake your head, "I've memorized it for months and told no one, It's valid."

"I realize you're not an official informant for the Resistance, I wish to apologize for the burden that has been placed on you. I understand more than most." Leia pauses, train of thought halted. You wait.

She breaks it and sighs, continuing. "I want to thank you for your sacrifice. You've served the Resistance and your people more than you could know. You've sacrificed a normal life to live in hiding until the course of war ends in our favor."

Her flattery warmed your center. No one ever thanked you for this, putting your life on hold someone else's war. Going into hiding-- Wait. "In hiding? General, I don't understand, I'm not in hiding." You smile faintly and tilt your head, "Unless I am?" The thoughtful expression disintegrates from your face.

"You weren't told much, I know. It was agreed on by both parties that explaining this aspect of the assignment could affect your willingness to comply." Leia explains.

Both parties... Comply...

Slowly it came to you. "I can't go home, can I?" You search her face for an explanation, praying she'd deny it, but she never did.

"No," For the first time, Leia didn't meet your eyes. "You must remain with the Resistance. Our ownership of that information is one that was paid for in blood, and we will remain to do so if necessary. Even yours."

"I don't- That's not what... I'm supposed to go home after this, I have a shuttle to- General, this... Leia, I need to go home. I can't stay here." The words caught in your throat as you rushed them, desperate.

"For your sake and mine, please remain compliant. We will keep you protected as long as you stay with us. And if not," She falters, "We will send out a bounty for your head."

Your heart sank to the floor, "You'd kill me?"

"You'd be killed anyway." She counters, appealing to your rationale. "If the First Order found you, they would torture you within an inch of your life, take the code, and then kill you."

You stammer and point an accusing finger at her, "You'd kill me."

"It doesn't have to come to that," Leia took your hand in hers earnestly, "Only you can make that choice. Be wise now, child. Let us keep you safe."

Staring at her dejectedly, any semblance of trust in The Resistance General had fled. "But I don't have a choice, I can't go home ever?"

"No one's said that. During the war, you must remain with us. That is all." Leia held your hands comfortingly, the creases of her eyes showed you mercy with each kind gaze. For all you knew, Leia could've had the exact same 'confidential conversation' to any number of informants. And if that was the case, her threats held no substance. If it was a hoax, you could walk out of here with your freedom, scotch free.

It was admirable in a sense. This woman had sugar-coated her intentions to kill you, and you just, What? Accepted it. You understood. Agreed, even. It would have been all too easy for a Rebellion General to have you killed. Your little life didn't count at all. There was a war to be won, and you were a liability. You were a threat.

These woes battle in your head so torturously that you don't recognize your airways constrict. You don't notice the sheen of sweat that coats your brow or the fingernails that cut into your fleshy palm and turn your knuckles white.

You only notice how suddenly they go away.

A wave of calm washes over your shoulders, it's warmth begins to melt away the icy dread sitting painfully across your chest. It shallows your stunted breath and spreads heat in vines down your spine and out to your fingers. The unknown force softens every muscle, every bone, and every tendon that connects you together. It's overwhelming peace. You can't help but close your eyes and release a tired exhale as the wave floods down to your toes.

"We all get to go home when this is over." Leia's gentle voice draws you back to reality only slightly. You couldn't make out her face. The human shapes had blended into a grey fog, yet you thought nothing of it. The fear you once held was nowhere inside of you, doubt had completely expelled itself from your thoughts. All was well, all was right.

"I suggest you law low as an apprentice and keep out of trouble. Best to be discreet, be careful of what you say." She spoke through the mist.

You have the most intelligent fleet and crew in the galaxy, I can't compete with them. Wouldn't it be easier to tell them the truth about why I'm here?

You were almost positive you hadn't said it aloud. Be that as it may, your inner thoughts no longer discerned themselves with spoken words as Leia replied to you, unbothered.

"They mustn't find out, it puts a target on their backs. I entrust you solely. No room for error." She speaks.

But what if they ask?

"That's enough, young one. Don't tell me you've never had to lie to a man. Now report to the main hanger in the morning. Settle in for now."

Yes ma'am.

"Make some friends, you're in good company. But, place your trust wisely. As of now, that information is your life."

You hum in response

"Rest now."

The fog fades to darkness, and your mind goes blank

[fanfictionlive]

Original character or Reader insert for a 3rd person fic?

Alright. Six months ago I began planing a MHA fic. With a new character OC, insert being the girlfriend of one of the main trio. But with the girlfriend unknown to their partner being an unrepentant yandere-like villain. Yes I know its nearly Toga with more focused obsession. And yes its a stupid idea. I like it and stand by it.

So originally I was going to write a 2nd person reader insert. Character has some shapeshifter like skills so I never saw them having a specific skin or eye colour. Only their mutation quirk had form in my mind. Everything else was just yea its the reader it shapeshifts whatever.

But when I began writing the fic in 2nd person it just wasn't making me happy. It didn't feel right. Oh, I was writing up a storm, chapter after chapter. Hoping if I kept at it, it would work out. It never did. The story and plot I planned out seemed fine. It's just my character, she never felt like she had the personality I tried to give her. And considering the biggest 'conflicts' of the fic come from her connection to both heroes and villains everything collapses.

I asked a friend to check it out. He's biased hates 2nd person, but he stuck through it and read for me. After he said with the way I tried to write I'd be better off writing 3rd person. I decided okay I'll convert the fist chap into a 3rd person, see how it goes.

It wasn't as easy as I hoped. So I had to return to my story plan. Adjusting it to make it third person my character truly started being a someone. Someone I could actually visualise. Some things like skin colour I still don't care for. But her eyes and hair, she started taking her own shape. A personality I only glanced before became complex. With likes, dislikes, traumas's and hobbies.

This where issues came in. I had no idea if I should keep her a reader insert, making her shapeshift ability give her both a readers form and my image of her. How would I even write a 3rd person insert.

I ended up putting both on AO3. One in second person which had a far better kudos/hits. While the 3rd person only has a fraction of that. But I honestly enjoy 3rd person. It gave me an opportunity to show not just her POV but two other canon characters. While providing a challenge of writing them in character. 2nd person was easier but never gave me that opportunity.

At this point I'm just confused on what to do. I want to keep writing. The want to write basically haunts me at this point. It would be easy to continue the 2nd person story, but is it worth it if the 3rd person style makes me happier.

I don't even know if I've explained this very well. I've just run out of ideas and hope someone here would be able to help.

submitted by /u/Scarletsblood [link] [comments] from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans https://ift.tt/2UXN4NL

[kit-williams]

Inbox

When you go into your inbox and see all the stuff you want to reply to but told yourself to wait till after fluffuary because you don't wanna do the horror and dread you spice into your husbandry/yandere/general 40k fics

[kit-williams]

Be me trying to write something dark and depraved involving a Genestealer patriarch and a traumatized arbities woman

MY SON: WHIMPERS... WHINES... looks at me with those cute grey eyes

Me: *SIGHS* okay fine