#but because she's a woman she could only be his consort

[roseofthewind]

Anime-only fans may think I'm insane for this hc but after finishing KnH novel 13 I can't let go of the idea that the character most likely to be transmasc if they lived in a modern era is Ah-Duo

[fruitageoforanges]

my conspiracy theory is that part of daemon’s strained relationship with baela in f&b (not sure to what extent they’re going to go down that route in the show, especially as they seem to be somewhat butchering baela + rhaena) is due to gender envy.

[tonycries]

Sweetheart Online - G.S.

Synopsis. Isekai-ed into another world, or isekai-ed into your pants?! Gojo Satoru is in danger - in danger of losing his prized, otaku vírginíty, that is.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, otaku! Gojo, isekai, vírgínity loss (Gojo), chokíng, use of “ma’am”, PÚSSYDRÚNK GOJO, begging, nerdy babbling, Gojo wears glasses, cúmming dry, first times, oraI (f + m), face-sítting, cúmming early, spítting, creampíes, cúmplay, p talking, cúmming in his pants, he goes féral, otaku vocab, truck-kun, anime nosebIeeds, Gojo is a LOSER, and so down bad for you, pet names, swearíng.

Word count. 8.8k

A/N. IT’S HEREEEEE-

“Har har. hilarious, Suguru-”

“You know m’not joking, Satoru.” Geto’s taking an infuriatingly long slurp! of his ramen from the other end of the line, and Gojo’s known the man long enough to realize that he’s doing it solely to irritate him. That bastard. “You’re a loser.”

Ah, he’s never wanted to throttle him more. 

Because- listen, Gojo Satoru might be many things. 

He might be the proud president of the campus otaku club, rumored to have never even held hands with a woman his entire life. Complete defamation, of course, Gojo has held hands with his mother as a child. Though…she might be the only one. 

He might be the most annoying tenant at his cramped Tokyo apartment, every inch of it covered with enough of your pretty figurines that he’s taken to sleeping on the couch recently. But you deserved only the best!

And he might currently be the sketchiest man trudging down the streets of Shibuya at 3AM; with a brand-spanking new, life-sized body pillow of you tucked safely underneath one arm.

But that didn’t mean Gojo was a loser. Probably. 

So what if he got strange looks from every unfortunate normie soul he happened to pass? It was limited edition, and he waited eight hours in line for it!

After all, a man with such a prized possession could surely and undoubtedly never be a-

“-oi- oi!” Self-proclaimed best friend, and universally-proclaimed pain in Gojo’s ass grumbles into the phone. 

Snapping out of his reverie, Gojo’s registering that he’s already at that familiar flickering stoplight. Fingers curling even tighter in their tender hold around your form, he saunters down the barren crossing. 

He needed to get home - and he needed to get home fast! A man needs quality time with his wife, after all. 

“Don’t tell me you fainted from her ah- what was it- ‘sheer beauty and unparalleled sex appeal’ again?”

“That was one time and you know it.” He’s hissing into the speaker- honestly, Geto’s probably just cranky that he didn’t get his grubby hands on one of these before he did - Gojo’s seen the other man’s plushie collection of you no matter how much he tries to hide it. “This time, I only got weak in the knees.”

There’s a snickering drawl, “Oh yeah? What wondrous self-control, o’ maestro of virgins.”

And the title is so utterly ridiculous that Gojo finds himself stuttering into a shocked stop right in the middle of the gloomy asphalt. A laugh bubbling up in his throat before he remembers that that particularly sweet nickname was directed at him. 

“You’re a virgin too!”

Scoffing, “Yeah, but I don’t act like it. You, on the other hand, are famed for having your first kiss with the common room tv the moment you first saw that video game character. People were making bets on whether you were going to die a virgin, Satoru. Hell- I bet, too!”

Dammit, when you put it like that it makes Geto sound downright respectable. 

“Actually, she’s more than a video game character, Sugu—” Times like this, he’s letting his words simper out into a whine. Full and well knowing how much it’ll grate against Geto’s eardrums - hah, take that ramen ASMR! Smugly, Gojo pushes up his thickly-rimmed glasses, “She’s the revered princess of a distant land, first in line to rule over the throne with a gentle yet firm hand. Scouring the seas for the perfect consort that will-”

“Are you quoting her Wikipedia-”

“I wrote her Wikipedia.” Gojo huffs indignantly, as if anyone could ever assume anything less. “Because to me, she’s- she’s…”

And, truly, nothing he recited with MLA citations could ever describe you.

Because if there’s one thing that Geto was right about, it’s the fact that Gojo’s been completely and utterly head-over-heels for you ever since he first glimpsed an ad for Sweetheart Online - the hottest, filthiest romance game to hit the industry in the last few years. Maybe ever. 

With one love interest - as if he needed any other - you, and your hand in marriage that Gojo had fought rival after unworthy rival to win 143 times already.

He finds himself wracking his brain for any word in the existing lexicon to describe the perfection that is you. Though, it seems that he doesn’t have to think too hard at all. 

Because before he can even imagine letting the first few syllables formulate on his tongue, there’s a deafening-

HONK!

Gojo turns, only to see the glaringly white headlights of a truck hurtling towards him at full-speed. 

And the first thing he thinks is oh, it kind of looks like the spotlight that dazzles on you 1 minute and 24 seconds into the game’s Coronation Event. The second thing he thinks is…fuck.

.

.

.

“-highness—looks rabid!”

“—that’s rude, but…”

“-oh dear, put your sword down, Itadori.”

Gojo takes a few bleary seconds to pat himself mentally on the back for deducing that he’s died and made his way to heaven. Honestly, it doesn’t matter what Yaga says - he really is a genius sometimes.

What else could the delicate paintings of cupids and clouds on the staggeringly tall ceiling abovehead mean? He didn’t think that the heavens above had a fancy for Baroque - but who was he to judge? 

Certainly not when it seemed like he was sprawled out on a painfully decadent bed. Sifting among layers and layers of delicate silk that almost swallowed him whole - oh, it was fit enough for his figurine collection of you. 

A sharp crick shoots along Gojo’s neck when he turns his eyes towards what seemed like a towering window, wincing at the large glowing ball of light washing warmly over him. If he squinted his eyes it almost looked like…the sun?

Surely, he wasn’t a ghost then.

It hadn’t even been daybreak once that semi-truck had run him over, and even if he was to haunt anyone then it would be to bug Geto into plastering his collection of your posters all over his gravestone. 

And the final piece of celestial evidence being a soft, soothing tone ringing in his ears and already becoming his favorite new song. Coming from the mouth of an angel peering down at him who looked - lo and behold - like your very spitting image. 

“Oh…” It comes out in a hoarse, scratchy gasp. All the air knocking out of his poor lungs once you inch in mere centimeters closer to his glassy view. He can’t help but reach up a trembly hand, “You’re even more beautiful in 3D.”

SMACK!

Gojo flinches when his hand gets knocked away unceremoniously by someone else’s- there were other people here? “You dare attempt to touch the princess? After revealing yourself in her chambers? I should call the guards right now-”

Now, he didn’t know much about the afterlife, but he was sure that demons weren’t allowed in heaven.

“It’s quite alright, Nobara.” The angel speaks up, and oh, it’s not even his name being said but Gojo already feels his heart leap a little and suddenly wishes it was. “Judging by the state of his clothes it seems he’s not from these parts. Maybe he’s lost?”

Gentle hands are suddenly bestowed upon his to softly pull him up, and before he can open his mouth to undoubtedly blurt out something stupid, there’s a ringing PING!

Jumping just about a foot off the bed, he’s scrambling to stand as a strangely robotic voice speaks from somewhere overhead, “Milestone: Touch a Girl reached. System activation successful! Congratulations, user [Satorulovesprincess]. Welcome to Sweetheart Online.”

If the group in front of him heard anything, then they didn’t show a sign. 

Very much the opposite of a thoroughly panicked Gojo, flailing his head towards the source of the noise until his eyes meet a holographic screen hovering just a few inches over his head.

As if something pulled right out of one of Geto’s favorite trashy sci-fi films - fuck being in heaven, he was probably still on those Shibuya streets hallucinating and causing an incident.. 

Gojo treks down a hand to pinch his forearm, just a little harder than necessary when the voice booms once more-

“Quite ingenious, user [Satorulovesprincess]. However, we assure you that what you are seeing is real.” The screen displays those exact words in time. “You have initiated the execution of the system, and are now bound to Sweetheart Online.”

“System- Sweetheart Online-” Great, he’s going mad. Running his hands through tousled locks of cloudy white, “Don’t tell me…don’t tell me this is like one of those shitty isekai anime.”

Oh god it all made sense - the truck, the system, the truck. And Gojo’s watched much more than enough cliché isekai anime with the otaku club to realize. 

But…a truck? Seriously? That’s embarrassingly overused. 

It’s like a pit of ice forms at the bottom of his stomach. He bet that no one but him could see the glaring screen right now. A fact he was especially glad for once the following words roll out-

“Following your sudden and extremely inexperienced death, Mission: No-Longer-Virgin has already started.”

Whispering to himself, “So this is where virgins go after death. Some sort of purgatory perhaps in which the last wishes of the virgin are materialized- although that doesn’t explain the presence of- wait-”

“Good luck, user: [Satorulovesprincess]. May your virginity collapse, and your sex life prosper!”

If Gojo didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn that the disjointed voice sounded amused. 

But wait- no, it wanted Gojo to lose his virginity? His long-held, precious, maiden virginity? After twenty-something years, how crude that this ah- mission marrs his delicate body. Did the system think that he was some sort of harlot to-

“Are…are you okay, strange sir?”

Okay, maybe losing his virginity wasn’t all that bad.

Turning back around slowly, “I uh…”

And this wasn’t quite how Gojo imagined meeting you - glasses askew, hair rumpled, in the very same ratty hoodie and sweatpants he’d camped outside the anime store in - hell, he never thought he’d meet you in general. 

But then you smile, and Gojo falls onto his knees. Right then and there on the polished floor.

You were exactly as he’d seen on-screen. Brows quirking upwards just a slight cheeky degree the same way it did whenever his in-game avatar said something particularly smooth. Gorgeous. The silken skirts of your ball gown looking oh-so-soft to the touch but not as soft as you-

“Your highness, on top of being a madman, he drools at the sight of you!” A younger girl shrieks - Nobara Kugisaki, your trusty attendant, he remembers. Hastily wiping his lips, “Kindly consider having his skull impaled.”

There was nothing kindly about having his skull impaled, and Gojo’s already clutching his head when you chuckle. “Your name?”

Ah, he’s forgotten how to speak. Forgotten how to breathe. “G-Gojo Satoru- my princess- your highness.”

“Apologies, I’m not sure what foreign ambassador you are, but I do welcome you kindly to our kingdom.” You’re letting your eyes roam all over his still-kneeled body, and in them glittered something…dark. 

Sliding over your hand and oh! Gojo remembers this.

He’s drinking in that delicate floral scent of yours, dragging his plump mouth to meet the back of your hand in a lingering kiss. The very moment his lips touch you, Gojo feels lightheaded.

And only after pulling away does he realize exactly why-

“Ah! He’s bleeding!” The young man - your loyal knight, Itadori - yelps, and Gojo’s clapping over the warm wetness smearing over his lower face. A nosebleed? Really? Just from kissing your hand? God, Geto was right - he really is a loser. “Should I call the healers, your highness?”

“No we have him drawn and quartered for such an unseemly display-”

“Nobara, that’s quite alright.” You’re waving off, smooth marble floors resonating out sharp clacks! when you walk even closer. Close. Too close. Until you’re seated on the edge of the bed, “After all, it is my consort choosing ceremony. Isn’t that what you’re here for, Satoru?”

Gojo thinks he could faint at the way you say his name - and he almost does. 

Scrambling towards you, he’s fully kneeling at your feet now. You’re so beautiful - so real - that pearly beads of tears dot his fluttering lashes. “Y-yes, ma’am.”

He swears he hears you mumble cute under your breath. Now he could really faint–

“Oh? And I intend on fulfilling the wishes of my guest.” Speaking somewhere over his shoulder, “You two are dismissed. Lock the doors.”

Kugisaki is, unsurprisingly, the one to protest. “But- but, your highness he’s-” And, honestly, Gojo can recognize the raw expression of what the fuck in her voice. He doesn’t blame her one bit. Not when you tip his head up further to face yours and his nose twitches like he’s about to start nosebleeding all over again. “...pathetic.”

Ouch. Gojo was on the verge of spoiling the ending to her character’s backstory when you’re humming. “I like them pathetic, Nobara.” 

Did he mention you were an angel?

“So…” You’re luring him in, and just that heady lilt of your voice already makes his cottony grey sweatpants tight. Shit- wasn’t this the type of situation that he wrote secret fanfics about?

Barely hearing the creaky SLAM! of the double doors to your royal chamber. Clouded pants waft over your satisfied features, he’s peeking up at you over his large spectacles. Lolling closer and closer-

Mumbling, “Yes, my prin- oh!”

Gojo’s pouted strawberry-pink lips wobble cutely when the golden points of your heel dig into the fleshy mound of his thigh. Prominent Adam’s apple bobbing, “Y-your highness?”

“What’s this about a-” Watery eyes widening wordlessly when you’re sliding it all the way up, up, up along the shockingly curvaceous muscles to press right down on the straining inches of his fattened cock. Needy. Bulging. “-virginity loss mission-” Hard. “-Satoru?”

And Gojo doesn’t know what comes first - that sharp inhale at the realization, or him.

Fist flying up for him to sink his pretty pearly whites into when he’s biting back a whimper and cumming.

You could feel the way that Gojo’s sloppy mushroom tip was just bawling with every lazy grind up and down his sappy slit. 

Milking out the thick, goopy ribbons being sprinkled from his rounded mushroom tip. Volumes upon volumes. So much of it. That warm texture clinging against the flats of your shoe and puddling out mushy dark splotches into his sweatpants.

Shit. Shit shit shit - cumming just from that. All in front of the woman of his dreams. Part of him almost wants to apologize.

But the way your mouth curls into a sleazy grin makes Gojo’s heart race, every minute action only keeping his achy length even harder. 

He so can’t help himself from grabbing your calves to halt with a few twitchy fingers - only to be going against his own yearnings. Hips humping yours once like a fucking dog as his breath hitches, “You- you know?”

“Awww, of course I know, Toru. I can see the screen.” Fuck- he hopes you can’t feel the wet splat! of another buttery wad of cum being dolloped out generously from his depraved divot. Leaning in, “S’this the first time anyone else has ever made you cum?”

He knew you were teasing - he knew it. But that doesn’t stop Gojo from panting out a strained, “Yes.”

“Hmmm, well-” You’re tapping your chin in thought, despite already having made your decision. But it was just so fun to see this beautiful man shivering and pleading on his knees. “I don’t know where you transmigrated from but…I still am a benevolent ruler, after all.”

He gulps. Cupping one flushed side of his face, Gojo’s practically a steaming hot mess of putty in your hands. “And I can take care of that little virginity business for you.”

Croaking out, “P-please.”

“Hmmm, not good ‘nough.” You’re rovering down even further to press a slight smooch of pressure against his fatly filled-up balls. Thighs squeezing at just how big they were - breeder balls. “Is that how you speak to your princess?”

“No- no no no-” Gojo’s shaking his head so hard that it makes him a little dizzy, or maybe that was the way that you were fisting your determined digits into his faded hoodie. “Please…ma’am.”

“Much better.”

Before he can even blink, he’s being dragged upwards according to your every want and whim. Thrown onto the bouncy king-sized mattress with such strength- of course, he shouldn’t even be surprised. You are the future queen for a reason, after all. 

In fact, he’s never skipped a single cut scene that showed you training your battle skills-

“Now now, don’t tell me you’re tapping out already?” Your voice drifts its way into his melty mind, words so sugary sweet that he could almost taste them. “At least gimme a lil’ kiss now-”

And it’s more than anything he could’ve ever dreamed of.

Muffling back a muted yes, Gojo’s surging upwards to clash his lips into yours. And oh shit, just-now realizing that he’s lost his first ever kiss. 

Then his second. His third. His fourth.

It’s messy. It’s hot. 

Tugging you even closer with a forearm around your waist. Gojo’s sloppy tongue is licking its way past your ravenous entrance, fucked-out bubbles of spittle pop up at the edges of his pursed lips when you’re breaking away-

“N-nooo-” He’s letting off a shuddering whine, chasing after you with a sluttily half-parted maw. “Gimme- wanna ‘nother kiss, princess.”

So greedy. The fat curve of your thumb positions itself on Gojo’s prettily dimpled chin, prying open his dewy lips even further. “Open that mouth f’me, Toru?”

He’s doing exactly what you’re saying before he even realizes it. The glistening muscle of his tongue splayed-out perfectly on display for you - for you to spit out a heavy mass of saliva right onto his pinkish tastebuds. 

Gojo moans at the contact - and you can feel it before he does. The subtle jolt of his weepy cockhead, before your languidly gyrating kneecap is dampened with another wiry slather of cum. Warm and wet. 

“Cumming again?” You coo, eyes darting between the ever-growing pool of a frosted mess between his long legs, and his face. Gojo looked so pretty like this - glasses sliding down his button nose, eyes shuttering with each heaving pant - gasp. Face flushed and slicked with a slight shimmer of sweat, stray locks of white curtain and stick to his reddened forehead. He looked so pretty. “Just from that?”

He’s squirming his depraved hips to smudge a faint glaze of seed down your mounds of flesh, one palm dancing upwards to stop himself from having a nosebleed all over again. “C-can’t help it…The average time of ejaculation for a man is five to seven minutes based on psychological factors and age. And as a healthy young man just because I-”

You’re shutting him up with a kiss, and Gojo almost wonders why more people don’t do this time - that is, until he remembers they’re not you.

“Sounds pretty serious.” You’re nodding, a mask of teasing graveness taking over your face. Swiftly shuffling down the seemingly endless expanse of the bed. Doughy fingerpads delicately hooking onto the hem of his drenched pants, “Better get a taste before you run out, then.”

Gojo lets out such a breathy pant at the implication, “N-no it won’t, considering the volume of the seminal vesicle and- ah!”

Whatever drunken rambling of his is cut very, very short as soon as you tug down those useless sweatpants and let Gojo’s red, painfully angry cock smack! against his abdomen with a wet smear.

He was so…big.

Such girthy, solid inches upon inches that twitched needily right before your very eyes. A rummaging, left-leaning curve being nestled above two pretty pink balls. 

Your mouth waters once you’re curling your fingers dexterously around his plump circumference, making his cerise cockhead waterfall out in another lazy sheen of pre. It’s honestly a bit of a strain to even get your fingertips meeting each other properly with his incredible size, and that just makes you want him more.

Gojo’s knitting his ivory brows nervously, “S-s’it okay?”

It’s more than okay.

And you’re about to show him that.

Cerulean irises crossing together until they were all heart-eyed when a saturated coating of your saliva tops his bloated tip like a layer of icing. Before he feels himself fall in fucking love just at the gummy peck of your mouth onto the rotund ends of his length.

“W-woahhh—” He’s breathing out, eyes locked lecherously right with yours when the steaming hot cavern of your mouth sinks in more and more and more- “This- what- fuuuck-”

And then you’re huffing out a slight chuckle through your nose, hitting his drenched base and making him keen. Slender hips of his lurch the perfect angle off the luxurious bed to bump his mountainous head against the very back of your throat. 

Gasping - begging. 

“You’re seriously gonna…take me?” Prattling through clenched teeth as you grace him with a few more flooding masses of spit. It makes him feel so used. Feel so good. “Like you- you’re gonna put me in your mouth?”

“No.” You’re snickering at the utterly crestfallen look on his face, full mouth downturned, puffed-up tip tinting an even more blasphemous red as if to tempt you. Your fingers tangle with his to claw at the crown of your head, “You’re gonna put yourself in my mouth.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Shit-” Gojo whispers - more to himself than anything. “You can do this- can- can do this- just suck on m’cock-” Rubbing out a translucent lipstain all over your ajar maw before plugging his proud girth inside. “Please- wanna know what it feels…”

Gojo can’t remember what he was saying. What he was thinking. 

Because just a few vulgar sucks of your tenderized mouth around his inflated cock and he’s drunk. Fuck dying by a truck, he was about to die just by this. 

Head lolling all the way back against the poofy pillows, white-hot bliss flashing behind his eyes and- when had he even closed them?

“Wh-why does it feel so–” he’s clenching his jaw, dredging out every single ounce of will in his being to peer at the heavenly - hah- sight below. “-so- good- c-can it feel so good- hngh- please-”

Gojo’s drawing up the hem of his hoodie to cover that brightly blossoming blush. So adorable. He even tasted sweet, like the best of salted caramel that made you infinitely want more. 

Your salacious tongue is repeatedly wetting down his lightning bolted veins. Up and down up and down up and down to draw little hearts on those bumpy lines. 

His sobbing cockhead mushing back into the velveteen walls of your mouth, and Gojo could cum just from the voluptuous curve being outlined into your cheek. He’s finding it almost fucking impossible to grunt out over the raw squelches! emanating from where you were making out with his throbbing cock, “Must be illegal- that’s it! It f-feels so good this must be- ngh- outlawed.”

You’ve rendered him stupid. And he’s so hot and heavy in your mouth, it makes your core stir up to think that you’re the first.

Every choked-up plea only resonates off of the numerous corners of your bedroom even louder once your fingers latch onto the gluttonous curve of his fattened balls. Squeezing-

“S-so dirty- so dirty, princess…” And part of Gojo doesn’t know why he’s letting his traitorous hands wander onto the back of your scalp. Doesn’t know why he’s plunging just a few more inches past your prettily-pouted lips - you were his princess and he was…not treating you like royalty.

The Gojo in this game had always been so smooth. So suave. Taking his sweet, sweet time to hold your hand and talk to you about the politics of your kingdom.

Right now he was curving his thick thighs to flex around your shoulder and feeding you every saccharine inch you could possibly swallow up. “Can you- can you take more? Take this biiiig fuckin’ cock?”

You’re being choked in a locked hold by his powerful legs, and you’ve never been wetter. Practically puddling out a syrupy pond on the sheets underneath you.

Tugging out the thick nub of his thumb to smear those honeyed splatters of his precum at the corners of your mouth, you can only grin as you let your sentence translate into thrumming vibrations. “Mhmm— Settling into it s-so well, aren’t ya, Tooooru?”

“F-fuck!” Gojo’s blushing tip glides shyly down the tight back of your throat, rovering all along each n’ every millimeter of space inside you. It only made your head bob faster to imagine how he would feel down there- “Don’t talk- don’t talk. Please don’t talk s’gonna make me…”

But you.

Oh, Gojo Satoru has read your character profile over 2489 times by now.

He’s memorized every factoid and morsel of knowledge there is to know about you - so of course, he should’ve known. Should’ve realized that babbling away those words would only make your sultry motions increase.

“Cum f’me like a good boy.”

And he does. 

You can only watch in awe when a pearlescent globule of cum gumdrops from his weepy orifice, one. Two. Three. Until Gojo was just drenching the entirety of your mouth with thickly viscous coatings of seed, until you were just drooling with a wadded mess of spittle and seed.

Salty flavor dripping down your tongue and flooding out. So much of it. Too much, Gojo was spurting out the thickest ribbons of creamy white as if he’d never cum before - and doesn’t plan to stop any time soon. 

More, more, more like it was the sound of your voice making him shiver. Making him whine like a zillion volts of electricity was running down his greedy spine. 

The moment you pull away, hefty oodles of cum hit Gojo’s toned abs with a wet splat! And your dear subject is wrangling out his hands towards you like he never wanted to let go.

“No- no! Please- please come back-” Crinkling tears trek their way down his dewy face, sensory pads of his fingers reaching out for you desperately, only for you to part away. “N-need your pretty mouth on me.”

You’re raising a brow, thumbing over his still-crying divot, “But don’tcha want something…else, Satoru?”

“Something- else?” He’s rasping out haltingly, head thoroughly swimming with nothing but you. Your heart glows with pride at the way he can barely form coherent sentences, “What…oh.”

But Gojo gets the idea soon enough when you’re hastily shedding away your outer robes. He fumblingly tries to help, of course, but the simple idea of helping a woman undress is too much for him - and he’s banished to simply watching you, one hand held underneath his nose in case of another…incident. 

Gown and undergarments hitting the floor, your gorgeous legs come to hike up, up, up- driveling mouth falling slack the moment they’re ending up rested on either side of his intoxicated head.

“Oh.” He wheezes intelligently up at your glistening cunt.

“Nothing else ta say?” Your heady purrs only make him blush, nuzzling his feverishly burning cheek against the spattered sheen of slick at your inner thigh. He’s making such a mess on purpose. Making himself a mess. 

“Well-” Gojo bats his long lashes up at you dangerously, clear planes of his glasses digging into the handsome apples of his cheeks. But he didn’t mind. Couldn’t even feel anything but the sweltering heat of your arousal. “-jus’ that- I want you to spit in my mouth, princess.”

And the very moment that sugar-coated sap, Gojo moans.

Eyes flickering shut at the taste of himself - the taste of you. A candied little tinge that he oh-so-badly needs more of - and without even a second of hesitation, he’s stuffing himself right there between your pretty legs. 

It doesn’t matter the rhythm. It doesn’t matter the rhyme. 

And Gojo doesn’t even know any - the very moment your puffy lips are meeting his kiss-bitten ones in a French kiss, he already knows that your cute cunt has taken him hostage.

Jaw clenching as he tries to memorize all those fanfics he guiltily read night after night, Gojo’s bumping up his cloudily condensed glasses further up his nose when he leaves one kiss. Two. “Ohhhh, your pussy tastes s-sooo good.”

And they each get messier and messier after the other. 

Letting the heaping dollops of your juices flood onto his roughened tastebuds, he’s letting his long tongue peek apart your gluey pussylips. Sliding the very tip up and down and round n’ round your slicked entrance. 

“The- the oh!” Gojo flinches just as your body arches even deeper once he pokes his fat muscle past your tight ring. Leaving such a slew of wet slurps with every drag, he was dirty. “-according to what I’ve read, th-the clitoris is found at the top of the vulva. It should be located where the hah- labia-”

His words cut off with what you swear sounds like a strangled whimper when you harshly fist your digits into his silken-soft strands and push.

And you don’t notice it at the time, hell, even Gojo doesn’t notice with just how ruined he was right about now. 

But the sole moment you’re manhandling him to your will makes his flushed crownhead geyser out a torrential of cum. 

Fountaining out waves and waves of seed that paint his hefty base with a frosted ring. Such thickened volumes for the nth time tonight. Just from the roughened way that you were pushing him to make out with your pretty pussy.

He wanted to be used.

“Used, huh?” You’re letting out a murky pant of laughter- fuck, did he say that out loud? “Wanna be u-used, Satoru- wanna keep that big mouth of yours hngh- full?”

He’s nodding. Nodding and nodding and nodding with every sloppy gyration that you bestow all down his features. Huffing and puffing through every gasping breath he manages to shudder in, he’s shooting out a good mass of saliva. “Yes- ride me. Ride me. Fucking ride my face. A-always wanted you to ride me- hngh- please.” 

And how could you deny him when he’s all begging like that?

Gluey ropes of spit and slick lacquer Gojo’s chin like a smooth polish, and he’s sticking against you like he was just as clingy. Jaw grinding against your kinetically moving pussy, the pointed edge of his nose weaves from between your leaky slit and ends up pressing right onto your clit-

“O-oh!” Your head tumbles backwards with an ever-tightening grip onto his sweat-dampened locks. “Yeah- right there–”

“Here? Here?” He sounds like he couldn’t quite believe it. The ravenous edge of his thumb curling right up your soppy slit and pinning down your hooded clit. Hard. “The glans clitoris r-right here. And I found it- I found it.” Breathing out a long whistle that makes your heated skin bristle with goosebumps, “I always wondered what would h-happen if I…”

You barely even have the time to react before you’re staring at the glisten of Gojo’s sharp canines sneaking up to your sensitive nub and biting.

And he didn’t expect this.

He didn’t expect it to be better than the fanfiction-

Because your generous cunt just cascades in another jet of sappy juices, glazing Gojo’s features sexily all the way from his dimpled grin up to his glasses. 

They’re dripping wet, waterlogged with treacly film of slick that forces him to gawk up at you from below with such a loving gaze. Just the way he’s peering up at you is enough to make your breaths hitch.

“Gonna- gonna write about this, y’know? H-hope you know that this changed my hah- fuckin’ life, my princess…my girl.” Gojo drawls out lazily, movements as slow as if he was slipping through molasses when he sinks the rounded tips of his cushy fingers into your slick-flooded entrance. “Gonna h-have you for breakfast- for ah- lunch…aaaand for dinner.”

With a pitchy whine, you’re tightening your hold onto his thick locks and mushing his face so close. Close enough that you could already feel the mushy pout of his lips and that lazy chuckle.

Only then do you realize that he’s doing this on purpose. Mouthing off until you’re making both his chilling frames and his regal nose clash at the target of your clit with every repeated swivel, each glissading snog of his tongue making you throb. 

Everywhere. Anywhere. Everywhere and anywhere that he could reach.

“Such a dirty boy, huh?” You muse, swearing that that only makes him even sloppier. “S’that what you are? Ngh- bet you’ve never tasted a p-pussy before, huh?”

“N-nooo- haven’t. But are they all so…fucking delicious?” And he’s lapping up every sensual ounce, not letting even a tiny speckle go to waste. Because Gojo Satoru was kissing your pretty pussy like he could only dream of those long, lonely nights. 

You were a fucking dream - his dream.

The full force of his desperation hitting you when Gojo’s letting his drunken head loll ever-so-slightly backwards to take a good, long admiring look at your cunt. And you wonder if he could even see with his glasses all sodden and filthy like that. 

You wonder if he even realized when he’s leaving a lingering swat! of his plush fingertips right onto the bullseye of your pulsing button, and then another few at your fleshy channel. 

And it was so unfair how he was pummeling your poor gummy walls with swipe after swipe of his eager fingerpads working your glutinous walls open. Probing his neatly manicured fingers perfectly into your most tender spots. “Like that?”

“Sh-shiiit–” You’re mewling at the tautly coiling build-up at your cunt. Further and further. You felt like you were about to snap. “-is- is this my first time or yours, Toru–”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” And Gojo’s palming his engulfing hands over the jiggling mounds of your ass to drag you like some ragdoll even deeper onto his sloppy maw. You’re forced to slap your hand onto the royal headboard to get at least some semblance of balance. “Jus’ want you- need you.”

Gawping up at you - he looks just as fucked-out as you feel. Blushing oh-so-innocently with his lecherous mouth slithering to steal a loud mwah! planted onto your salivating pussy. And then a final, weighty wad of spit. “Need me to be yours.” 

With a final, trembling shove of Gojo’s pretty face pliantly against your hot core, you’re cumming. Riding out your peak with stuttering rotations all over his lolled-out, bumpy tastebuds.

“Fuh-fuck!” You didn’t even care if you were getting his glasses messy at this point - he’d already made enough of a mess out of you. Embarrassingly so. “S’s-so good. Hah- gotta put your mouth to work more o-often, Satoru.”

And you can’t stop the way that your jaw parts into a soft oh! every time he pinches your bulbous clit at the very tip of every single one of your peaks. Right on time. More on sheer animal instinct than anything because Gojo’s still reeling from the fact that he made you cum.

He made you cum.

He made you cum.

He made you cum.

Babbling away just as stupidly as he had mere moments before, your orgasm is…magical. None of these haughty princes or dukes could ever compare to this. “S-such a good ngh- boy f’me.”

That is, until you feel Gojo tenderly curl his fingers around one of your stray ones to form a fist. Nudging it against one of yours in a…fistbump? 

“You have…no…fucking idea.” He’s letting out a drenching ptwah! of spittle, all the masses and rivulets of your sickeningly sweet juices sliding all the way down his tongue and pooling at the back of his throat. Like he always wanted your taste there.

And you’re still feeling the twinging tremors down your spine, flurries of stars bursting behind your hooded lids when he lets his sinfully long tongue slather your fluttering cunt with another hot kiss. 

Nose crinkling at how you’re stagnating your vigorous cadence, he bats his lashes up at your shocked stare - and you already know what his sapphire gaze is begging for before he even asks.

“Toru-”

“More.” Gojo interrupts you - and he knows he’ll beat himself up for it later. Maybe he’ll even…make it up to you. But for now, the only thing replaying on his cottony mind was just how perfect you looked cumming all over his mouth - even the specially-paid NSFW scenes didn’t go into this much detail. 

He was in heaven. 

You feel the humid brush of his tongue between your saturated pussylips, pleading. Begging. “Wan’ more- wanna taste you more, princess- please-”

And Gojo looks so fucking heartbroken the very moment those lips part with such a wet slurp! A low whine curdling at the back of his throat, his glossy lips curve downwards into a jutted-out pout.

He’s chasing after your pussy with absolutely no shame, greedy fingertips digging into the curve of your ass while he nudges you closer and closer. Stealing tiny kittenish licks, stealing longing whiffs just to smell the scent of your pussy.

“No- no- want- please-” He’s rambling away, half-lidded eyes widening with alarm. Like you were taking away his favorite dessert right from under his nose, and Gojo was not having it. 

But you knew a thing or two about ruling. 

And it’s with such smug satisfaction that you get to push down a wolfish Gojo so hard he collides back onto the mattress and bounces. 

Giggling - giggling, “S’this mean I get to…fuck you now?”

Oh, it’s spoken like a mantra. A true confession that he never even imagined would come out from those lips of his. 

You’re nodding, “Mhm— m’thinking that good boys get to hah- fuck me.” 

He’s ogling you right now when you meander between his milky legs just as you did before. Except, this time, you’re stopping right at the defined v-line of his sculptured hips. Darting thumb rubbing back and forth over the pooling streaks of cum from just before. 

“Did you cum without me ngh- again, Toru?” You’re teasing, and he almost feels so pathetic the way his mouth latches onto the curve of your sheened digits and sucks. “That’s not what a good-”

“I am I am-” Gojo insists, brows furrowing. He’s so unsure what to do, so unsure what to even think other than looping his arms around your waist to tug, tug, tug you ever-closer. It’ll never be enough. “Promise I’ll be a- ngh-”

Shit.

Your fingers shackle a tight grip around his pale, prespired neck. He looks so gorgeous squirming underneath you like this - squirming for more, that is. 

“Then you better promise to fuck me really good, Satoru.” Your whispers come out in a honeyed tone that wafts against his reddening ears. Maybe because of that, maybe because of the way your nails claw marks, you feel his plumpened head twitch. “Really good.”

His head lolls all the way into your grasp, he was done. Murmuring, “I’ll be a really, really good boy- ma’am.”

That did it.

And before Gojo knows it, you’re letting his syrupy mushroom tip slip in a few thick inches with ease. Geysers of his pre trickling out from between the tight stretch of your gluey hole, sinking in more and more.

Gojo’s mouth opens with a slow leak of drool with just how warm you were hugging him from the inside. Your candied walls so fucking clingy that he finds himself choking out a huff, planting two steadying hands on either side of your waist and pushing-

“Oh fuck- oh fuck.” His eyes grow adorable wide, stare perched right down where he was disappearing in and out of you in mindless, rapid ruts just to bully himself inside. “Th-this feels nothing like my P-Pocketpussy3000-”

“Toru…” Your words come out in a growl, crescent nail leaving neat indentations on his column of skin. 

“J-just feels so much better, my girl.” Gojo insists, something swirling deeply in his eyes that makes your heartbeat irregular. “You’re so…so warm and- and wet. That stupid rubber could never compare to the adventitia and musclaris and- and I’m really fucking you.”

He is. 

He was, at least until only a few vulgarly deep strokes probing in about halfway down his swollen shaft makes Gojo bump his ridged slit against one of those spots. The globe of Gojo’s proud cockhead leaves a hefted thud! that thunders pure bliss into your fuzzy head and makes you clench.

And it makes him cum. Again.

Wet spurts of warm seed splashing into each n’ every inch inside of you and filling you all the way up to the brim. There’s so many of his copious ribbons sloshing around inside of you, and it doesn’t even make Gojo’s tempo slow down.

It doesn’t even make him falter. 

“Sh-shiiiit-” He’s hissing, lower lip worried and fussed between his teeth until you were sure he’d be drawing blood. “Cumming—!”

Dipping down a few fingers to part your soppy lips, Gojo’s thrusts get more relentless when he catches his eyes on the steady waterfall of cum and slick seeping into his hoodie. Fucking the webbed mess deeper - but it only wrings out more pearly wads streaming down. 

Gojo’s voice wrenches out from the very back of his throat in a stubborn mewl, just about five octaves higher than you’re used to. “I came…inside.”

The one n’ only warning you get before he hooks an arm around the small of your back and flips the two of you over. Easily. 

Back sinking into the velvety bed-covering, your spine arches in a geometrical semicircle off the mattress as Gojo takes the blasphemous opportunity to bottom out. His meaty tip finally meets the target of your spongy cervix, breeder balls clashing stickily into the split end of your folds with a hulking thwack!

And you’re almost wondering at just how it was possible that Gojo - nervous, bumbling Gojo Satoru who’d never even held hands with a woman before - had the willpower and strength to overpower a seasoned fighter like you.

But that’s when he tugs his utterly sullied hoodie off and you’re rendered thoughtless. Mouth watering at the toned ridges and curves that bulged all over his Herculean body.

Gojo wasn’t just toned - he was fucking jacked.

And all yours for the taking.

Just your greedy stare is enough to wash his cheekbones with a scorching blush, as if he wasn’t near-nine inches deep inside you already. You gasp when his tongue pokes out to catch a few dripping splat! splat! splats! of your slick still dripping from his glasses. “I-I read in a director’s cut that you like men with abs so I…” 

And before you can even respond, his hips do all the talking for you. Striking your own with a deafening pap! of skin-on-skin, broad pecs heaving with a sharp inhale as if he didn’t even realize what he was doing. Wasn’t in control. 

Two of his doughy palms veer underneath your now-jittery thighs and hoist them up effortlessly to dangle over his shoulders. 

Gojo’s letting off a low grunt when his curvaceous knees slide wider across the pricey bedsheets. All the while mumbling, “N’ just because m’a hah- virgin doesn’t mean I don’t know a thing or two. Like- I saw this thing ngh- o-online called a…” Bending you like a pliant lawnchair down, down, down- “-a mating press.”

Online? Mating press? You didn’t know what he was rambling on nonsensically about now, but maybe you could excuse that with the fact that he was stretching you out stupid. 

“What a pretty boy.” You’re managing out, fingers unsticking a few strands of pearly white plastering onto his forehead. “Now s-stop teasing and hngh- fuck me.”

Your words are jolting such a dark, primal part of his brain. Eyes hooded, teeth pulling back with a low whimper of ah! The bed sings out a protesting creak when Gojo’s hand comes slamming! down onto the poor frame. Spitting out, “I-I can’t stop…fuck- I can’t stop. Won’t-”

He’s pushing and pushing his ravenous hips in animalistic little humps, the cylindrical shape of his cock swabbing in sultry circles around your gooey insides. Already splitting you apart snugly to the brim, but still he’s drilling in for more.

“You hafta move, Satoru-” Even your most gentle tone is enough to make his strawberry divot sugarcoat you in a thickly viscous few spatters of pre.

And when he talks he sounds wild, “Do I- haaaah- do I really hafta move? Jus’ wanna lose my virginity like this. Wanna stay inside you forever and ever and ever.”

He was already pussydrunk.

And it’s so cute it makes your heart clench. All over six feet of him melting into you by now; head heatedly shoved against the crook of your neck, motions glissading a slip n’ slide of his sexily defined abs pinned to your front. Powerless. 

Gojo blinks up at you through thoroughly hazy eyes when you tilt his face back up to face yours, and the deep eye-contact makes him blush. 

“But I really, really wan’ you to hah- fuck me.” You pout, and you already know by the stutter in his labored breathing that you have him wrapped around your cute lil’ finger. Jostling your hips in a slight buck, “Look-she’s begging for ya already.”

Oh. 

“Is- is she really?” Gojo sighing out in surprise, eyes pondering down to where he was making your puffed-up pussy folds bulge. Slipping out a gasp before he’s clutching onto his nose to stop any more bleeding.

Your slobbering lips coated with a glimmer of his spit and cum, so very his that Gojo finds himself subconsciously nodding along to the sappy squelches bubbling from below. 

“Yes- yes you’re right–” Propelling a slow drag of his hips to sweep every hidden orifice of yours inside, “Oh! Ya got l-louder- so you agree-”

He’s hiking up your legs even further up his shoulders, interlocking them with one massively flexing bicep held behind his head. Eyes still locked below - only then do you realize that he’s not talking to you. 

And then again. And again. And again and again until Gojo was striking your poor cervix with repeated battering rams of his plump cock. Dense balls stinging against your ass with ringing thwacks. Spherical bruises of his circumference being indented over n’ over it’s like he doesn’t even realize. 

Didn’t even know he was doing anything other than wrenching out the most sinful noises from your goopy pussy. 

“Mhm- such a pretty ngh- pussy.” Spitting out the very word like it was embarrassing, two sizeable fingers latch around the plump peak of your clit. Transfixed. You wondered whether he even remembered his own name. “Such a pretty clit.”

“Fuck!” You’re halfway through sobbing when he sends shockwaves of pleasure all across your body. And even more so when one tilted drive of all his inches leaves a skidding skim down the area of your g-spot. “There- right there, Satoru-”

He’s gaping up at you as if suddenly snapped out of a hypnotic trance, only to fall into an all-new one. Disbelieving mouth parted slightly, he breathes, “I’m…fucking you. I’m actually- ohhh fuck m’fucking you- like really, truly. This isn’t a dream.” Like he just realized - and he just did. “M’giving you my cock- making you t-take alllll of it-”

Never in his life did he think anything could ever feel this good. He was never going back. He would never be the same. 

Your drooling pussy was molding around him so nicely, taking onto the very shape of his long shaft. Massaging every inflamed vein poking against your splashed walls, so warm with the leftover puddles of his own sticky cum.

 He’s worshipping you, tilting his head to place a heady trailway of wet kisses down each of your ankles. “M’yours so m’-” Then your calves, your tits, your collarbones, everywhere and anywhere-

“-m’gonna make feel h-hah good.” His nose scrunches with focus, a few fat ends of Gojo’s fingers come down from pinning your ankles to splay out on your tummy. All bloated with his thick outline that even through his fogged-up glasses, he swears he could see a bulge. “Need to find it- need to.”

Pound after pound being placed desperately onto everywhere he could reach inside of you. You can feel the baking hot swash of his sap coating you in a second skin. Each dab of his ballooned crownhead leaves behind a marking bead of buttery pre. 

And maybe it was the way you’re feeling the slow trickle of all his sappy torrentials inside you, but you’re gurgling out a little, “What- what are you-”

“The g-spot.” Gojo answers your messy blithers of syllables with a tender rub onto your clit. Though, he wasn’t too far behind himself, if the way his digits trembled told you anything. “It’s s-supposed to be somewhere in the hah- anterior vaginal wall, between your pretty hole and the urethra. Often said to be stimulated about a few inches ngh- up-” 

But this time, you’re the one cutting him off. With a rapid, deprived rut that bustles his left-leaning curve to head in a jackhammer precisely towards your bulging g-spot. 

And then you see white. 

Perhaps from the sheer shock of him leaving a good French kiss that tenderizes your sweetest hidden coves, perhaps from the way that the both of you are cumming. 

“Shit- shiiiit-” You’re perking your ass to smack against his in lewd little paps, half-formulated moans flooding your mouth with each delicious thrust being planted right onto that spot. Gojo’s fucking you through each of your edges, over and over until you feel yourself crashing back-to-back into not one, not two, but three orgasms. “Really did fuck me- hngh- ah-”

Before you even realize, you’re throwing your arms around Gojo’s rippling shoulder muscles to claw a few artistic lines of red. And he loves it- fuck, it makes him cum even harder. 

“S-spit in my mouth, ma’am.”

And when you do, he latches onto yours with a messy, messy open-mouthed makeout. Groaning around his second-favorite activity of sucking your cute tongue - his most favorite activity being fucking this depraved cunt of yours. 

Cumming and cumming until he physically can’t. Steady rivers of seed logging up whatever remnant space inside your snug cunt before he sputters out sheer nothingness. 

A shiver wracks through Gojo’s body with the way he was cumming dry. And once he spies down a few whipped globs of it spilling out to form a velvety ring around his base, he’s plugging your leaky entrance with a few free fingers.

Lapping up that trickling excess with a slow suck peering right into your eyes before he seals you with his jostling digits back up again.

“Love it- love it love it love it-” He’s letting loose with each spasm of parching cum overspilling your flooded insides, those ribbony meshes swirl all around his pumping cock and trickle down in a creamy stream. Coating his twitchy balls no matter how much he tries to make you milk up every ounce, so much of it. Hot. “Love it- love being your good boy- I love you.”

Gojo’s heart races when you only plant a cute peck onto his sheened glasses, and then another onto his mouth. Resting your sweaty head against his very own, “How would ya like to be my own royal consort, Toru?”

Ah, it was virtually a proposal. To stay by your side forever and ever and ever - the only thing he’s ever wanted, really.

And Gojo’s about to kiss your awaiting lips senseless as an answer- that is, he was about to before both your ears chime with an undeniable PING!

Before an agitating, gratingly familiar voice rings across your heady atmosphere, “Congratulations user: [Satorulovesprincess] on completing Mission: No-Longer-Virgin!” You’re wincing at the sterile glow of that screen once more. “Please await the new updates to the program Sweetheart Online.”

And you both barely even have time to register those words before there’s a thunderous creak! from the empty space of your royal bed.

Except…the bed wasn’t so empty anymore. 

Right with your heated proximity was a man - a beautiful man. All long legs, and inky hair that ran down to his slender waist, twinkling amethyst eyes rounded in the exact same shock that shone in Gojo’s right about now. 

“Suguru?”

“Satoru!” Before he’s tilting his head towards you, and perhaps most glaringly, the way that Gojo was still scouring deeply inside you. A delicate blush tints his - Suguru’s - high cheekbones, voice cracking embarrassingly at the end. “P-princess.”

And something about his tone made your cunt quiver - just in time for Geto to shuffle the tightening crotch of his pants. Something that Gojo noticed, if the way he was crushing you to his body even tighter said anything.

“Let me guess-” Gojo tilts his head, a sleazily drunken smirk curving the edges of his ruddied lips. “-the truck got you haaaah- don’ squeeze me like that, my girl– too?”

“It- it was ramen poisoning actually…” Geto’s deep baritone trails off, struggling to rip his eyes away from you as the screen flickers once more. 

“Sweetheart Online updates completed! Commencing Love Rival (Three’s Company) arc. User: [Sugulovesprincess] joined.”

A/N. MAN I love loserboy Gojo hehehe- hope you have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[venusbyline]

Sleep ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 26, oct.

(late post) Prequel to Nine Moons

— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x twin sister!reader

— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: creampie

— summary: Jacaerys was determined to make you his wife, forcing his mother to marry him to you, even against her will. Or against your will too.

— word count: 1.3k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 26th day, female!reader, dark!Jacaerys, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, creampie, Targcest (twin brother/twin sister), dubcon somnophilia, rape/non-con, vaginal sex, breast worship, butt worship, breeding kink, degradation, praise kink, corruption kink, loss of virginity, blood licking, squirting, cum eating, cum swallowing, dacryphilia, crying, watersports, doggy style position, minor Jacaerys Velaryon/Baela Targaryen, Referenced Targaryen/Velaryon Incest (cousins), implied/referenced cheating, underage sex, ambiguous/open ending, non-consensual drug use (herbal tea), drugged sex, forced orgasm, forced pregnancy, marriage of convenience mentioned, butt slapping, biting, hair-pulling, manipulation, sexism, possessive behavior, implied breastfeeding kink, implied lactation kink, implied pregnancy kink, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, dark content, sadism, dom!Jacaerys, sub!reader, canon divergence, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n @lina-lovebug @moonnicole @badger-reads @dearjardim

— crossposting: AO3

— high valyrian words used: Idaña (twin), Hāedar (younger sister), Lēkia (older brother), Muña (mother).

Jacaerys was fed up with his mother's stubborn and boring behavior. Rhaenyra's refusal to break off his betrothal with Baela and refusing to let him marry you, his twin sister, was only making the fucking war even more stressful. As if the death of his little brother Lucerys was not enough, Jace still had to deal with Baela's constant interference against his angry thoughts and the fact that she did not understand why he hated these stupid Dragonseeds so much. It was easy for someone who was children of a Targaryen King Consort and a Velaryon princess to say he was being too arrogant or spoiled.

Either way, Jacaerys did not want a damn betrothed who was barely fit to support him during the outbursts. Even though she was extremely delightful and an excellent warrior, Jacaerys needed more. He needed a caring wife. And he knew you could play the role very well.

His anger towards Rhaenyra and Daemon was growing, to the point where he sometimes wished that his mother would actually recover her rightfully Iron Throne, but only because then he could rule the Seven Kingdoms soon.

He asked and even begged his mother to change the betrothal, explaining that the bond between the two of you had grown since Luke's murder and he needed you. Unfortunately, Rhaenyra remained a woman of her word, refusing to change the agreement.

Perhaps it was really a spoiled and cruel attitude on Jace's part, but he was determined to make you his wife, forcing his mother to marry him to you, even against her will. Or against your will too.

"Idaña, please..." Your whimper sounded too loud for both of your own good and Jacaerys whispered for you to moan lower, his large hand went straight to your mouth, sticking his index, middle and ring finger there to muffle the sounds that followed as he continued to slowly move his hips back and forth.

Each time he took himself out and put it back in, Jacaerys enjoyed the sight of his cock wet with your juices and also the blood of your innocence, as well as the sight of your voluptuous ass shaking when he fucked you a little rougher than before. He was trying his best to be careful with you, taking advantage of your drowsy dubious consent. Of course he did not want to hurt or scare his little twin sister in any way. He just wanted to left you filled with his seed, making your future heir growing in that soft womb.

"Shhh, Hāedar... You do not want to wake up our mommy, do you?" Jace murmured, pressing his bare sweaty chest against your white satin nightgown-covered back. He really wanted to rip that stupid fabric off and fuck his sister until you barely remember your own name. Until you beg for his cock. Until you were practically brainless. "Mother does not want me to marry you. But you want to marry me, do not you want to, my dear?"

Jace's question made you moan incoherent words around his hand, impossible for him to understand anything, so he took his three fingers out of your lips, wet with your spit and stuck them in your head, pulling your dark wavy hair just like his, despite the difference from length. You were like a reflection of him. The hair, the eyes, the nose... You were like a pure and innocent version of Jacaerys, the version he could never be. You were a true pure soul. You were everything he should have been and he was everything you could become.

He fucked you deeper, slapping your buttocks hard and making you scream softly, while he took the opportunity to pull your hair back, leaving your neck exposed to nibble and kiss. "Answer me, little sister. Do you want to marry me? Do you want to carry the future King or Queen of the Iron Throne inside your belly? Do you want me to turn you into a Muña?"

Perhaps it was your still slightly asleep state, perhaps it was how his cock was fucking you too fast and brutally for your virgin cunt to handle, or perhaps it was the special herbs that Jacaerys had put in your drink during dinner... But you just could not say no to him. You did not even want to say no. All that was going through yourself mind was that Jacaerys needed to keep doing what he was doing, even if it hurt so bad.

"Do you want me to breed you, sister? Beautiful little dark-haired babies sucking milk from your breasts while I sit on the Throne?" His question did not get a verbal response, however, Jace understand it as agreement due to the way your walls tightened around his member. "That is, that is my fucking good little girl... So innocent and obedient." Jace growled between moans, taking his hand out of your head and moving it to the softness of your clothed breast, squeezing roughly over the fabric. "You are taking me so well, Idaña. You are going to look so beautiful pregnant with our children. I am going to fuck my seed into you every year, I will never get tired of that warm and tight little cunt..."

You cried out and felt a sequence of slaps on your ass again, noises so loud that the entire castle was probably already hearing you two. "Lēkia... S-stop... I need to pee!" You suddenly screamed groggily when you felt your lower belly start to ache. You hoped Jacaerys would stop what he was doing and release you, but all he did was chuckle mockingly and grip your hips tighter. "PLEASE, JACE! Brother, please... I really need to pee right now!"

Even though you could not see Jacaerys' face because he was fucking you from behind, but you felt his breath in your ear, his teeth nibbling on your earlobe before he purred. "Then do it." He teased hornily. "I am your twin and some minutes older than you. Also, I am the one who will be the future King, so I am ordering you to do it."

Your eyes widened, coming out a little of your sudden trance and drowsy state when Jace continued holding your hip with one arm, but brought the other to your belly, pressing hard on the place where your bladder was. Tears began to fall desperately from your face and you struggled under your twin brother body, the hot liquid wetting the sheets and both of your legs and the Jace's too. "Well... I thought princesses and big girls did not piss on themselves. Now I guess I was wrong, you are a cute bedwetter, my dear. That was so horny."

The mockery turn everything more shameful and you sobbed, just crying when your cunt began to spasm intensely until you came, a clearer liquid splashing out before you fell face down on the pillow completely, your consciousness fading for a while after the orgasm and something else.

You did not know how long you were unconscious. Probably just for five or ten minutes. When your eyes opened with difficulty, you were still breathing heavily, your face pressed into your soft pillow, hearing Jacaerys growl and feeling him pull his cock out of you after his release, spreading your buttocks to enjoy the view of your bruised ass and reddish and sore cunt, full of cum and drops of your blood and wet with your own pee and your sudden squirt.

"Both of us will hope my seed catches as soon as possible. Right, Hāedar?"

You sniffled and nodded, not protesting when Jace pushed his finger into your sensitive hole and brought it to your lips, forcing you to lick up the disgusting mixture as he smirked, stroking your dark hair too. "My dear little sister. My true future betrothed and wife. You will be such a good mother." He placed a kiss on your shoulder, caressing your sore ass and laying down next to you, ignoring your confused and sleepy cries. "Seven Hells, do not be pathetically dramatic. Just go back to sleep, dear sister. Go back to sleep and then we can rule Westeros together very soon, I promise this to you. Nothing will separate us, not even Mother, Daemon or Baela. Not even you."

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Could you write for Daemon targaryen like currently after all those nightmares in harnehal he finds a prisoner of harnehal as the only person who brings him peace him falling in love with her and trying to be better person he still fights for team black obviously rahaenya is definitely not happy with these arrangements especially seeing him all dedicated all in love some things he never have done for her but she have no option currently rather accepting his second wife though at the end when team black would be winning and fight at harnehal like aemond Vs Daemon she ask for reader's head happy ending at the end please or anything you wanna write I just wanna see Daemon happy in love at end please

Finally I have time for my hobbies again! Sorry I left you waiting for ages, this term the exam season was tougher than what I have been accustomed to… Anyways, I have started writing some stuff and I wanted to post the intro instead of writing a full-length chapter 1 since it would have taken a couple more days (:

As a side note, I honestly have no idea where this story will be headed because I have no clear course planned, I had some little ideas and I just started writing them. Also I will be introducing stuff which is not in the asoiaf universe.

I am continuing to read Silmarillion from where I left off and let’s say the ideas about Daemon’s love interest are… inspired from what I have been reading (; Enjoy!

Memento Mori

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: strong language, I am not a native English speaker, reader is (or will be) described with long hair

This is a very short introduction! Also the chapter is from Daemon’s pov. The title is inspired by Memento Mori by Lamb of God (the song has been a great inspiration for the story so far)

The dungeons of Harrenhal were cold, wet and lonely.

He had no idea when, how and why he had gone down there – one moment, he was in his chambers and the next, he was opening his eyes to the mossy stone walls of the dark dungeons with a torch in his hand. The line between dreams and reality was becoming thinner each day he spent in this cursed castle.

As Daemon walked past the empty cells, he tried to shake off this unsettling feeling lingering around him, dancing on his neck on its tippy toes, making him wonder whether he was indeed alone.

I doubt Simon Strong keeps prisoners down here, he thought while wiping the water from his forehead which was dripping from the broken ceiling. Maybe he has decided to lock up the witch?

Just when the Rogue Prince – correction, the King Consort – was about to turn back and leave the depressing, humid and somewhat eerie atmosphere of the dungeons behind, a soft humming reached his ears.

A soft, sweet humming of a song coming from one of the cells at the very end of the darkness.

“What kind of prisoner is Simon Strong hiding here?” Daemon asked, his voice created echoes as he waved the torch in front of him, trying to cast some light.

The humming stopped immediately, as if the sound itself was cut by a knife.

Daemon’s purple eyes widened upon seeing that the last cell was indeed not empty.

There was a young woman inside, looking at him with her eyes full of curiosity. Her hair had an unearthly shine under the dim moonlight. She tilted her head to the side. “You can see me?” She asked, it was the same soft voice from a moment ago, though the sweetness was no longer there to be felt.

Daemon raised an eyebrow at her direction. “Do people not see you?”

The young woman shook her head, her movements – no matter how simple they were – felt almost too harmonious. “Not normally, it is not intended that I am seen.” Stopping for a moment, she eyed Daemon from head to foot. “You are not really here, are you?”

The raised eyebrow quickly turned into a frown. “What do you mean? I am standing in front of you.”

She shook her head once again. As her soft whisper filled his eyes, Daemon started falling into the nothingness, again, for the unknown-th time ever since he had come to Harrenhal.

“Wake up.”

***

When he woke up, trying to catch his breath, Daemon found himself lying on his bed, as always. Anytime he had one of those weird dreams – he wasn’t even sure if he should call them dreams anymore – his consciousness would find its way back to his bed.

Unless he was daydreaming, which were considerably the worse.

“Who the fuck was that weird woman?” Daemon muttered to himself as he stood up, dressing up in his regular robes. The feeling in his stomach was telling him that he had to go down there, to the dungeons, to find that woman. If he were to wait until dawn, he feared she might be gone.

What was it that she said again? It is not intended she is seen?

Leaving his chambers with a torch in his right hand, Daemon shook his head to the thoughts flowing through his mind, causing his silver hair to move. “Weird woman,” he muttered to himself as he walked through the dark corridors of the castle with haste. “She somehow reminds me of the witch.”

The dungeons were as dark and wet as he remembered from the dream. A cold wind was wandering besides him, kissing the mossy walls and licking Daemon’s skin, sometimes whispering wicked words in his ears. Even the wind was odd here, in Harrenhal, but he had somewhat got used to it – hearing its eerie whispers whenever he walked alone during the hour of the wolf.

“Show yourself,” Daemon spoke with a strong voice which created echoes as he stood in front of that very cell from his dream. “Your king commands it!”

“Huh, king?” The same soft voice answered from the dark corner of her cell. The moonlight had left its shining spot, leaving the torch in Daemon’s hands as the only source of light in this entire corridor of the dungeons. “I answer to no king.”

A condescending scoff left Daemon’s lips as he came closer to the bars made of steel, separating him and the weird woman. “You do live in Westros, do you not?” Daemon asked, not really waiting for an answer. “As long as you breathe in this land, you do answer to the King.”

A chuckle came from the darkness. “I have been breathing in this land before your ancestors flew across the Narrow Sea, Daemon Targaryen.”

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[chocolatepot]

Hi! Can you elaborate on "Fuck GRRM's committment to 'historical realism' without knowing anything about medieval social history"? I would love to know about what GRRM gets wrong about medieval gender roles, specifically.

So Cersei learns at an early age that she has no agency, her only value is producing heirs and is barred from traditional routes of power so she has to use underhanded methods such as influencing men with sex or using underhanded magical means. I would love an explanation on why this doesn't reflect medieval queen consorts and noble women irl.

Sure! The basic summary is: GRRM "knows" the things that everyone "knows" about the middle ages, which are broad stereotypes often reflective of a) primary sources that deserve a critical reading rather than being taken at face value and b) the judgements of later periods making themselves look better at the medieval period's expense.

As Shiloh Carroll argues, building on the work of Helen Young, “readers are caught in a ‘feedback loop’ in which Martin’s work helps to create a neomedieval idea of the Middle Ages, which then becomes their idea of what the Middle Ages ‘really’ looked like, which is then used to defend Martin’s work as ‘realistic’ because it matches their idea of the real Middle Ages.”

Since you're mainly interested in Cersei here, I'd strongly recommend a book: Queenship and the Women of Westeros: Female Agency and Advice in Game of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire, edited by Zita Eva Rohr and Lisa Benz. It's an excellent read and speaks to exactly what you're asking about. The tone of the book is very positive and non-judgemental when it comes to GRRM and his depictions of women on the whole, but I think some of this is rhetorical positioning to not seem like "mean angry academics jumping on fiction for not being accurate," as the actual content turns the reader to thinking about how much agency and power medieval queens had in different European societies and how little of that worked its way into GRRM's worldbuilding.

It's true that women typically didn't inherit titles and thrones in their own right, and that they were usually given in marriage for political/dynastic reasons. However, they weren't seen as brood mares whose only duty was to pop out sons: both queens and noblewomen had roles to play as household managers, counselors, and lieutenants, actively participating in the ruling of their domains and in local and international diplomacy (women in political alliances were not just pawns sent to a powerful man's bed, but were to act as ambassadors for their families and to pass information back and forth), and they had to be raised with an understanding of this so that they could learn to do it. Motherhood was very important, don't get me wrong, but it's a mistake to assume as pop culture does that a wife's foremost duty being to provide heirs for her family meant that she was ONLY seen as a mother/potential mother.

Catelyn is a great example of what was expected of women in these positions. But in the books, Catelyn is basically the only woman who inhabits this role, and the impression given is that she's exceptional, that she's just in charge of the household because she's so great at it that Ned allows her to be his partner, and that he listens to her advice because she happens to be a wise person in his orbit - and also that Ned is exceptional for giving so much power to a woman, because in the world of ASOIAF, it takes an especially good man to do this. In GRRM's view of the medieval world, realpolitik and the accumulation of power are the most important things, so men in Westeros are extremely unlikely to give up any authority to their wives, even though this is historically inaccurate.

Cersei, on the other hand, is supposed to be a more realistic depiction of what would happen to an ambitious medieval woman. There's a chapter titled "Queen of Sad Mischance: Medievalism, “Realism,” and the Case of Cersei Lannister" in the book I've rec'd, and it deals with why this is problematic extremely well. (This is the source of the quote at the top of this post.) In it, Kavita Mudan Finn argues that Cersei embodies pretty much every medieval trope for the illegitimate wielding of power by a woman. She underhandedly gets people killed for opposing her, she seduces men into doing her bidding, she advances her family's interests and her own at the expense of the realm. She's made sympathetic through fannish interpretation and Lena Headey's performance, but in the text she's an evil woman doing evil things. Even when she gets to be regent for her son - a completely legitimate historical position that allowed women to handle the levers of power almost exactly like a king - she continues to do shitty things and not be taken seriously because she's just not good at ruling.

But even before then, from a medieval perspective she had access to completely legitimate power that she didn't use: she'd have had estates giving her a large personal income, religious establishments to patronize (giving her a good reputation as a pious woman and people she'd put in high positions being personally loyal to her), artists and writers to patronize as well, power over her household, men around her listening to her counsel. That she doesn't have that is a reflection of GRRM either deciding these things don't really exist in Westeros in order to make it a worse world than medieval Europe and justify Cersei feeling she had to use underhanded means of power, or not knowing that they were ordinary and unexceptional because he has a good working knowledge of the politics of the Wars of the Roses but little to no knowledge of social history beyond pop culture osmosis, and, imo, little to no interest in actual power dynamics.

There are a lot of books I'd recommend on this subject. There's a series from Palgrave Macmillan called "Queenship and Power" and nearly all the books in it are THE BEST. Theresa Earenfight's Queenship in Medieval Europe is a very readable introduction to the situations of queens in European societies across the continent. She also has a book, Women and Wealth in Late Medieval Europe, that also addresses non-royal women's power. I'm also a huge fan of English Aristocratic Women, 1450-1550: Marriage and Family, Property and Careers, by Barbara Harris, which really emphasizes the "career" aspect of women's lives as administrators and diplomats.

[celaenaeiln]

I always assumed that from the comics I've read dick seems to have a somewhat complicated relationship with his own gender/sexuality/sex status, etc.

Anon!! You can't just drop this on me and leavee!! I need to hear more!! LEMME HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS!!!

Ok so this is gonna be like three different things so I'll make subcategories.

Gender

Of the things listed. I think gender is the one thing Dick is rather set on/secure about. He has some feminine or softer traits which typically would not be associated with a male character such as empathy and caring to an overemotional aspect -

Joker: Last Laugh Issue #3

Nightwing (1996) Issue #86

Nightwing (1996) Issue #139

Being overly kind to an unappreciative and toxic girlfriend is one thing, but as a brother hugging and kissing a brother? It's a little softer than how people usually write male heroes.

He's male and I don't think he's considered switching to the female side because he's comfortable with his masculinity.

Does he do things like this -

Nightwing (2016) Issue #38

sometimes? Yeah. He takes the female role in his relationships with others such as Bruce and Barbara but he still very much sees himself as masculine. Like I said in another post, Kori asks him to be a male consort to her Queen because she was forced to marry a royal Tamaranian Prince. While male consorts are not unusual in history, they typically embody the female in a stereotypical relationship. (On a separate note, did you know Chinese emperors took on male consorts? It is circumvented when speaking about in the present and laters days but it's officially written down in the books).

But overall, Dick is very much a masculine male with feminine qualities.

Sexuality

Ok so the thing about Dick and sexuality is that Dick Grayson is a very, VERY old character. He's been there since the beginning of DC to the point that he was the third DC character created EVER. Clark, then Bruce, then Dick, AND THEN Wonder Woman.

So with a character this old and with a topic as controversial as sexuality, DC is not going to ever explicitly write Dick as gay or bi or whatever. Why? Because Dick is an icon.

When someone says "Batman and Robin" - EVERYONE knows who Batman and Robin is. Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson. They've existed forever and are the kingpins of DC alongside Superman and Wonder Woman. Whether that person is in the fandom or not, they know who Batman and Robin are. Within the fandom, people know there's more than one Robin (several) but talking to someone outside the fandom, someone who enjoys DC casually, only thinks there is one Robin. And you could tell them that there's this many robins, some have been girls, there's this many timelines and etc (which is actually a really embarrassing convo if someone isn't in the fandom OMG and how I wish I could take that back and erase it from BOTH OF OUR MEMORIES) - but they're not gonna care. Because for them, there's only one Robin and that's Dick Grayson.

So with something like that, DC cannot have Dick Grayson be anything but straight because it would cause too big of an uproar. So he can't be. Explicitly. People have written him as having an ambiguous sexuality though. I actually wrote this specific POST a long time because someone wanted to know more.

Instead what you'll have is a BUNCH of BROMANCES. His Nightwing authors have wanted more male/male sexual attractions with him and other characters and some of them have admitted that openly even if they were not allowed to write. So if you're reading a comic that has him and something seems SUS, well it might just be.

So like with all things, I cannot say anything for certain unless there is evidence of him engaging in a romantic relationship with someone who isn't a woman, but given the homoerotic tension that exists between him and other characters such as ROY -

Outsiders (2003) Issue #11

Teen Titans: Silver Age TPB 2 (Part 4) Page 16

Nightwing (1996) Issue #114

WHICH IS ODDLY SIMILAR TO THIS -

Nightwing (1996) Issue #138

I'd say he's bi-curious at the least.

Sex Symbol Status

-this is my previous post which goes a little into the sex symbol thing

Anon, holy crap I have an ESSAY for you. It's in my drafts because it's wayyyyyyyyy too long and I'll definitely exceed the image limit but holy crap.

Here's what I will say about it though. The world REVERES Dick for his looks and body. The amount of attention he gets for his beauty is ridiculous. Even Green Arrow's half-sister - WHO'S MUCH YOUNGER THAN DICK AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF DICK MET - dreams about him romantically.

Green Arrow (2016) Annual_1

Because of course. Villains are going out of their way to compliment him on his looks in the middle of a fight - Bane, Bludhaven villains, civilians (MALE) coworkers - it's literally insane.

So Dick is clearly the hottest and most gorgeous thing to ever exist in the entirety of DC. There's also a panel from a comic where Dick becomes Talon AND SOMEONE STILL CALLS HIM THE PRETTY BOY TALON LIKE WTF??? THAT PRETTY BOY TALON CAN RIP OFF YOUR HEAD IN A HEARTBEAT! He's a talon, too! Clearly death does not hinder his looks in any way.

But Dick himself is VERY uncomfortable any sort of bodily attraction. It's not just the comments that gets him but he, who everyone claims has the body of a god, doesn't feel good about his own body.

The New Titans (1988) Issue #71

He's really conservative. And in another comic when Tim comments on how the the Nightwing suit is really a babe attractor, Dick is uncomfortable going 'I didn't make it for them'.

Like even looking at this comic pic where Dick is in disguise and he and Kori are just walking down the street, they both still attract the entire street's attention. It must be so uncomfortable.

Here's my thoughts on the sex symbol status. Yes, Dick is a sex symbol. That's just fact. But here's where the issue is. People can be sex symbols without it affecting their personality because that status, is something given to them or bestowed upon them by another person.

I'm leaning a little into my post in the drafts but Johnny Depp, Marylyn Monroe, David Bowie, Tom Cruise, Cleopatra - they're all so vastly different on their opinions of sexual liberty and yet all of them as considered sex symbols.

So what does this mean for Dick? Nothing, really. It just means the world takes one look at him and wants him but he is under no obligation to follow through nor does he. He's not a slut for sleeping with the people he likes and no one thinks of him that way either. He was slut-shamed after his rape by Pantha who always has some harsher opinions because that is her personality. She literally says the meanest things about everyone because she's a rough and tough character and she finds humor in being mean because she is who she is.

For Dick himself, it means nothing. He doesn't view himself as attractive which ironically is also what celebrities who were interviewed about the sex symbol status said as well, such as Johny Depp.

The problem with being beautiful though is that people brush you off. Certain girlfriends of his do it. They see him as just a pretty boy and writers of certain comics *cough* Batgirl comics writers and Tom Taylor *cough* throw his skills and talent down the garbage disposal so he can act as a dumb pretty boy toy for his girlfriend. His personality is degraded to a bland white paste and his intelligence and power and pain are thrown out the window.

(This POST gives some examples of when writers do this for Dickbabs)

Like this is a serious problem! I read this article some time ago -

Here are the main highlights:

There isn't a problem with Dick being ascribed a sex symbol status and to his great benefit most people don't treat him like this but some do! LIKE HIS GIRLFRIEND.

In summary, and I'm gonna borrow a lyric here to quote -

"It's hell on earth to be heavenly Them's the breaks, they don't come gently"

I think the problem is, instead of focusing on how beautiful Dick looks, I really feel like DC and the fandom should analyze how uncomfortable Dick gets, how certain comics force him into relationships when others clearly show he wouldn't be interested in a parallel situation, and mostly how Dick Grayson is robbed of his personality, identity, and beliefs all because of how people believe he should act due to his beauty.

I'm honestly tired of the equation that Dick's status as a sex symbol somehow reduces him to a slut. He is not. Instead we should focus on how his beauty is weaponized against him. He was born with those looks and complaining about them is useless. That's his mother and father-given appearance. It's his genetic inheritance. It's as much a part of his as his grace or his unyielding kindness.

The real issue isn't DC’s acknowledgment of his beauty—it's the utter failure to dig deeper. Instead we should explore how Dick deals with it. How does he carry the weight of being constantly objectified? What does it do to his relationships? How is he coerced to do something in a relationship because it is expected of simply due to the fact that he's beautiful? We should explore how people (even the batfam sometimes) only see his smile or good-natured humor while his complexities - his pain, his resilience, his brilliance - are shucked aside? He's constantly diminished by the fandom and canon because of his cheery personality and good looks just to fit a particular character's narrow view of him.

Call him pretty! Dick legit doesn't care if villains call him pretty or someone calls him that because what they're really focused on when they call him that, are his skills. He doesn't mind being called pretty, beautiful, gorgeous - as long as he's valued for his talents and efforts and skills.

(Here's the pretty boy post for my lovelies. Part 2 in the making)

The issue, once again, isn't his sex symbol status or his looks. It's literally everything else. Dick Grayson is not a reflection of what others project; he is a someone who stands apart, vibrant, and irreducibly whole. Which too often gets lost underneath his looks.

[abbyfmc]

Yandere Story Idea #25:

I don´t know why, but i love the "yandere emperor" figure. So, here's my idea:

Darling(you) was originally a young woman of high society who was forcibly married to the respective king of her people when he was a prince, against her will. She had a young lover whom the king murdered (because he believed that she was unfaithful) after her family practically sold her; after this, the king mistreated her harshly as punishment for years, while her family insulted and cursed her, even when she tried to explain to them that nothing happened.

These mistreatments and depressions caused her to lose the pregnancies she had, which made her desire for revenge against her family and against that disgusting king begin. She tried to escape several times, but was always caught. It must be said that the king did not love her at all, and was constantly unfaithful, humiliating her to feel proud of himself. All this continued until Darling saved a seemingly ordinary young man who was being persecuted, without imagining that this was one of the sons of the emperor who ruled his kingdom and all the others (it was specifically the crown prince). Due to the pain of the wounds, the young man did not pay much attention to who Darling was, but her sweet voice was engraved in his head, and since then, he could not stop thinking about her.

Later, the boy recovers and sees her more clearly, realizing that she is not only gentle and kind, but she is very pretty. That is when the prince knows who he is, and although he leaves at that moment, he decides that when he takes the throne, she will be his. It is not long before the emperor in power dies and the aforementioned prince ascends; in the meantime, he dedicates himself to investigating more about her and spying on her a bit, ending up falling madly in love with her and causing him to kidnap her and without even asking the king, he annuls the marriage. This is when he becomes the yandere emperor.

Darling is initially upset and outraged, but upon seeing the affection and good treatment that the yandere emperor has (removing all his strictness), in addition to his power over all the kingdoms, including that of her ex-husband; so she decides to put together a plan of revenge since the king not only mistreated her in countless ways (physically, emotionally, sexually, etc …) and moves pieces to earn her place among the imperial court (and more so if the yandere emperor already has an empress or several consorts) and fakes even her way of breathing; she learns the rules and customs of the new palace, as well as purposely approaches the yandere emperor to further awaken his obsession.

What the Yandere Emperor didn't know at first was that Darling had bruises from his mistreatment; these were the reminder of his revenge. Darling made her husband fall even more in love with her, but she still gave him hints about her past suffering as his obsession grew, which made the Yandere Emperor start to investigate. On their wedding night, when they were getting intimate, she slowly took off her clothes and there he finally saw all the bruises; when the Yandere Emperor asked for an explanation, she told him everything.

She tells him about the contempt she experienced; how her family sold her; the forced marriage; the murder of her love; the false accusations made against her; the abuse and mistreatment… everything up until the day he came into her life. She even asked him not to throw her out, since she had nowhere else to go but the imperial palace. Then the yandere emperor promised her that under his care, NO ONE will ever lay a hand on her or insult her again.

Days later, Darling learns that the emperor murdered her family and ex-husband in cold blood, along with the former servants who tortured her. The emperor saw how this made her very happy, as her revenge was successful. Meanwhile, the emperor is also happy, as from now on she will not have to think about anyone else (According to him).

I'm kind of tired of the fact that whenever I read a "Yandere Emperor x Reader" Darling, it's always submissive. I like to think of a Darling who appears to be submissive, but is actually so evil as to use the emperor to her advantage.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

You know, it would be interesting for me to read the gloomy Disney characters. By the type that the Reader accidentally enters the Disney world. Or is already in this world. For example, a man! The Evil Queen× reader. Just imagine that the mirror says that the most beautiful is the reader and the man!The evil Queen was interested.. Well, or dark! A man!A Disney princess who believes in love and believes that the reader is his true love and that the reader should belong only to him.

Sorry for the bad English

Don't apologize

You're perf, babes

Yandere!Genderbent!Evil King x GN!Reader x Yandere!Genderbent!Snow White

CW: Death, obsessive behavior

"Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" The vain king asked his enchanted mirror as he often did whenever his pride was wounded. King Hadewig was the envy of men and women. Cold and beautiful, his features were cut like an ethereal ice sculpture. Intelligent, talented, and ruthless, most everyone either wanted to bed him or be him. However, his power was not guaranteed for long.

Hadewig was King only by responsibility, and not by actual title. His title was, legally, Prince Consort. He married his, now deceased, wife when he was a young bachelor, and she was the only eligible bachelorette of suitable status as a widow. Being so much older than him, it was an "unfortunate", but not "unsurprising" passing of the crown when the Queen died and left her son in Hadewig's care.

The only reason the child wasn't immediately crowned king was because of Hadewig's charm and influence, convincing the court that the young Prince Snow was too irresponsible to rule the country. But it was difficult to continue that lie going, even with Hadewig purposely keeping Snow ignorant of his future kingly duties by treating him as a servant, for now the boy was twenty years of age, and truly should have not only been coronated years ago, but also wed off to the available princess of the neighboring kingdom, a woman as old as Hadewig.

But his potential loss of power wasn't the reason for his low self esteem that day.

"You are, my king. There is one who approaches, but does not yet share with you what makes you fair."

The king slumped in his seat in an uncouth like manner. "Then why does my hunter not look at me like a man?"

King Hadewig's personal hunter, an immensely talented killer that didn't just slaughter animals for the king. And the only person who simply looked at the king. Nothing Hadewig did could change the professional look on (Reader's) face during their meetings. No matter how charismatic he was with his words, how stylish his clothing was, nor the love potions he attempted to spike (Reader's) drinks with, they were seemingly immune to every one of his attempts. In their most recent meeting, the one that left Hadewig depressed, he had offered his hunter a glass of wine, which they turned down, stating that the last drink they had received from the king did not agree with them.

"I can not tell you that, my lord. I only can report what I see, so unless your hunter speaks their secrets out loud while I spy, I am blind to their feelings for you."

Hadewig groaned, upset and broken hearted.

"Show me my hunter, again."

The face in the mirror melted, dissolving into an image of (Reader) leaving the castle. Their strong frame sent shivers down the icy man's spine. His first and only marriage was one of political importance, with no love or warmth between the husband and wife. But in the presence of his Mx. Hunter, the king was set ablaze. The intense feeling of heat was dowsed when he witnessed the bastard he hated most in the world approach his hunter.

At the steps of the castle, Snow had been timidly watching the triumphant hunter from afar, gathering the courage to approach them. He had never known shame, never feeling any sort of embarrassment about the state of his dress, but in the presence of the person who always smelled faintly of iron, he was reduced to two inches tall.

Stepping lightly like a mouse, the short adult snuck up behind (Reader), still debating whether or not he was actually going to announce his presence.

His decision was made for him, however, being noticed by (Reader) almost immediately.

"Good afternoon, your highness." They said, turning sharply on their heel to face him.

The hunter was the only person to address the prince by his royal status.

"Ah- how did you know it was me?" He asked incredulously. A pink blush warmed his entire head, wrapping around the back of his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

"Because I could hear you." (Reader) offered a kind smile to the shy, younger man. They felt sympathy towards him, with the way his cold step father treated him. With what they had done to him.

Snow was impressed by how cool (Reader) was. And a small part of him wished to impress them as well. He tried to straighten out his worn out rags. "What brings you to the castle today?"

"To gift the king a wolf pelt. And also," (Reader) reached into their pouch, pulling out a pressed flower, "to gift you this."

The prince sucked in his gasp, wide eyed and lips pressed tight.

"I apologize for not finding something better for your highness."

"No!" He panicked, grabbing the flower with both hands. "It's beautiful!"

He hadn't received a gift since the passing of his mother.

"Happy Birthday, your highness." (Reader) bowed, then turned swiftly, leaving the young man hyperventilating and sweating.

Only the king and his mirror heard Snow whisper long after (Reader) left: "I love you."

Three days later, and the king was losing his mind over the interaction. Snow was visibly taller, standing straighter as he worked, singing as he cleaned the castle grounds, and it was bothering him.

Hadewig kicked over his chair in frustration. "Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"

"The one you fear is getting stronger, the confidence has warmed his winter, and people shall notice his spring awakening. The prince now glows more brightly than you, whose anger has etched lines of hatred into his ice like face."

King Hadewig released a scream, losing his control before quickly sharpening back up, running his hands through his messed hair.

He left his study, storming over towards a frightened servant.

"Send for my hunter."

Before (Reader), the king was disheveled, worrying (Reader) something awful.

"I can not stand for this disrespect any longer." His gaze read cold and cruel as it pierced the hunter's. "You understand that you are mine, correct?"

(Reader) thought about the flower and felt a wave of anxiety. "Yes, your highness."

"You understand that you belong to me?"

"Yes, your highness."

He sighed ever so slightly, before retrieving a wooden box from his desk. "I have another assignment for you.

Kill my son."

Nausea threatened to erupt from the seasoned murderer. "My lord?"

"Take him deep into the woods, and bring me back his heart." He held out the box. It was a test, as though (Reader) hadn't proved their loyalty to the mad man enough.

The empty box was heavy in (Reader's) hands.

"As you wish, your highness."

Prince Snow spun in the field of flowers as he searched for the most beautiful flowers for the hunter. It was the best day of his life! His father had given him a colorful outfit that fit him and the hunter had asked him out on a date! Well, they didn't call it a date, but what else could it have been?

He wove a crown for (Reader) while imaging their wedding day, becoming King and Royal Consort and having a real crown placed on their head.

(Reader), however, was weighing their options, not truly paying attention to the prince, and trying to ignore his childlike excitement.

What would the king do, if he was made a fool?

"Oh, hunter!" Snow ran over, holding out the delicate crown. "I made this for you! May I?"

And that was all it took, for (Reader) to spare his life.

They bent down, feeling the weight of the crown on their scalp. It smelled nice. Before Snow could retreat, (Reader) wrapped their arms around his thin waist. They had killed so many people before, but this was only the second time they felt unbearable guilt.

The first was after they took the life of the Queen.

"(Reader)?" Snow stuttered out, feeling weak in their strong arms.

"You must run, your highness." (Reader) whispered into his ear.

"What?"

"The king has ordered me to kill you. So please, run. Far away, into the woods." They released the prince, and it was only then that he noticed the heavy bags under their tired eyes.

"Why? I don't understand-"

"Leave. It won't be long before that witch discovers my lie."

Snow fell to his knees, holding onto the edge of (Reader's) shirt for dear life, falling apart in front of them. "Please, no! Come with me! If he would kill me, what would he do to you for sparing me? Please, run away with me!"

(Reader) bent down to release his fingers from their hem, planting a kiss on his forehead as they did so. "I hope when I meet you again you will have found a name more worthy of such a warm and kind person. For as of this moment, Prince Snow is dead."

Excitement threatened to crack the King's cool demeanor as he observed the bloody heart in his hands. (Reader) was distant, but that didn't matter to Hadewig, for now there was no competition for his hunter's affection. They would soon be his, even if he had to use force to make it so.

"Excellent work, my faithful hunter." He offered a practiced smile, unnerving (Reader) who prayed that the pig heart made a convincing decoy. At least until they could escape and hide out in the mountains, far away from the King's eyes.

(Reader) gave a deep bow. Then they left, calmly getting on their horse, and leaving, not taking a single glance behind them as they sped off, emergency bag already packed on their steed.

Back in Hadewig's room, he caressed the box affectionately, thinking about his lovely hunter. The stress had certainly caused a frown line, just as the mirror said, but he was working at reversing the damage.

"Magic Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" He dreamily asked, slightly nervous that the rage had permanently ruined his perfect face.

"Hiding deep within the woods, tending a wounded heart, the fairest in the land hides. Prince Snow still lives."

The king scoffed. "I have his heart right here, mirror."

"No, within that box lies the heart of a pig."

The box fell from Hadewig's hands. "A pig..?" His face scrunched up painfully. "(Reader) would never betray- they belong to me! ME! Guards! Where is my hunter?!"

"The hunter is flying towards the mountains, away from the woods they released the prince into."

Hadewig collapsed at his desk, screaming in agony while pawing at his chest. "No! It's all his fault! Find me that little bastard- I'll kill him myself!"

The seven dwarven women listened to the young man recall his tale of woe, his eyes full of tears but a smile still on his lips. "So, if you please, could I stay here? Just until my love returns for me."

Happy sighed dramatically, blushing and twirling her beard. "That (Reader) is so brave~"

Grumpy smacked the back of her head. "That double crosser may have saved the prince, but that doesn't mean they won't double double cross him!"

Bashful stomped a foot. "It's true love! They would never!"

"Well, they never confessed their feelings," Doc said while cleaning her glasses, "they could have saved Snow out of the goodness of their heart."

Snow smiled, trying to calm the fragments of his heart. "I have to believe, to hope, that (Reader) loves me as I love them. To risk death for me.. but, they said we would meet again. And I trust them."

It was painful, knowing that his father wanted him dead, but what was worse was hearing that (Reader) had put their life in danger for him. Despite all the pain and punishment Snow had endured, he never held it against his step father, but now..

A dark, bitter seed had been planted.

And throughout the night as the household slept, Prince Snow could feel it grow, threatening to burst forth from his chest. The dwarven women were so kind to him. So inviting, and trusting.

He wondered what else they would do for him.

The dark haired man knew that the apple was poison from the moment it was placed in his hands. What kind of elderly man would be this far out away from any sort of town, especially if they were traveling to sell produce? He didn't know who the old man was, but knew that he must have been in cahoots with the king.

"Oh, I don't have any money." Snow said quite sadly, placing his head in his hand.

"For such a lovely young man? Free of charge."

"Are you sure?"

The old man was certainly no real beggar. Nothing made sense. It was cruel, what Snow thought to do, especially if he was wrong, but in case he was right.. Snow whispered to a bird before smiling brightly at the stranger, taking the apple in both hands.

"Of course, please take it!"

Snow bit into the fruit, but did not swallow, hiding the chunk in his hand. After a few seconds of pretending to chew, he collapsed, holding his breath.

The king almost immediately dropped his disguise, snarling. His once similarly raven hair had a stripe of grey.

In a voice barely louder than a huff, he said "It serves you right, you filthy bastard. I would have let you live, if you had simply left my (Reader) alone."

He exhaled. There was no movement from the floor.

"Are you dead yet? Can you still hear me? I hope you can." The king smiled. "I hope you can hear me from beyond the grave as I finally get my happily ever after."

But as he celebrated the dwarves rushed home from work, and a small bird was rallying forces to find the hunter and lead them to Snow's body.

As he monologued to what Hadewig assumed was his son's corpse, the women returned from the mines, righteously horrified and armed with pickaxes.

Hadewig heard a woman shout "Grumpy, don't!" before a pick connected with his lower back, piercing his organs from behind.

The pain was excruciating, sending fire up his body as blood poured out of him. He imagined (Reader's) face, finally smiling for him as they cradled him in their arms, accepting his love. Hadewig wanted that to be the last thing he saw before he died.

Instead, he witnessed Snow, smiling up at him from the floor.

(Reader) arrived just a moment too late, having been closer than they had expected due to how deep into the woods Snow had traveled. They witnessed the sobbing dwarves sitting at the door, too upset to enter their own home where the young prince they tried to rescue lie dead.

The hunter pushed passed them, not wasting a second to grab the young man. He was still warm, but wasn't breathing.

Snow kept his eyes closed as he felt the worst pain he had ever known.

(Reader's) hands slammed into Prince Snow's chest. A rib cracked under their strength, but Snow refused to show it.

Then their lips pressed against his.

His nose was held shut as (Reader) forced air into his throat, trying to get him to wake up. They continued the repetitions a medicine man had taught them while blowing air into his lungs.

"God damnit, Snow, wake up!"

They leaned in, and felt him breath against their mouth. His large brown eyes fluttered open, and his face reddened.

His lips curled into a weak grin. "You came back for me.."

Guilt washed over (Reader), hugging him tightly to their chest. "I'm sorry I left, Prince Snow."

Warm hands ran through (Reader's) hair. "Please.. Call me Theros."

The regret and pain kept (Reader) still, allowing the recently "revived" prince to pull them in for a kiss.

After all that (Reader) put him through, a kiss was the least they could do.

But for the born again man, it was just the beginning.

[brain-rot-central]

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal

A/N: This is a working title. I reserve the right to change it going forward, lol. This is also my first AA fic! Can't believe it took me this long. Also feel free to note any other tags I may have missed. I'll add them as I go.

Rating: E Word count: 5.1k Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+, post-canon, PiV sex, creampie, angst, stalking behavior, obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulative behavior (overall A's not really the greatest in this), use of derogatory language (though not at anyone specifically), messy break-up, depictions of gore, break-up (maybe make-up?) sex

Summary: Astarion has performed the Rite, becoming someone unrecognizable. Tav leaves him after settling their business with the Netherbrain, refusing his proposition to become his consort. She uses these last 6 months to heal her broken heart, mourning all they were and what they could have been. Hopefully all her hard work has paid off, because he's decided he wants her back and drops in for a visit.

♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

“It's awfully dangerous for such delectable morsels to leave their windows open this time of night.”

The whimsical voice comes from behind. With it, a rush of cold air sweeps through the quaint upstairs bedroom. Curtains lining the double panes of the front windows dance as the breeze blows in. Papers on the dresser scatter about the floor. 

A young woman dressed in a sheer linen nightgown sits at her vanity, combing through her long red hair, when she freezes.

A familiar scent dances beneath her olfactory nerves - heady, rich, citrus. She breathes deeply, the warm spice of the cologne sweeping through her. Waves of heat pulse throughout her body as her ears pick up the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

With a sigh, the woman closes her eyes as the assailant reaches her position, their footsteps coming to a halt behind her.

It's him, she realizes. She’s never been more sure of anything else in her life.

Many months have passed since their last meeting. Passion burned as hot as an Infernal forge on that night. Promises of love, of pleasure, of power poured freely from their lips as their bodies intertwined. At that moment, she was prepared to give him everything - her life, her freedom, her body, soul. 

She would have, had she not come to realize it was all an elaborate farce.

As she cracks open her eyes, daring to look up, the woman catches his reflection in the vanity mirror. With an audible gasp, it quickly dawns on her that this is the first time she’s seeing his face reflected in a glass pane.

Their eyes meet in the mirror, her chest suddenly heaving.

It is him.

And by the Gods, he's even more devastatingly handsome than she remembers.

“You never know what sort of monsters are out lurking the streets, hm?” he purrs, bringing his face close to her ear.

Assaulted once more by the warm spice of his cologne, her head spins. 

“Astarion,” the woman whispers, nearly breathless. “What are you doing here?”

Craning his head, Astarion dips down into the nape of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her pulse quickens as he draws near, heart hammering away in her ribcage. His lips curl, fangs gleaming in the faint candlelight illuminating the room as his tongue sweeps over his teeth.

“I needn't an invitation to go where I please now, pet,” he pants against her neck. 

A cold shudder shoots down her spine.

There was a time when her body would come alight from his many terms of endearment.

Darling, dear, sweet, pet, love.

Love.

“Nothing special, of course. You're only the first person I truly care for.”

His words echo in the far recesses of her mind. The words of her companion and partner, her lover… of a man who no longer exists.

That night in the ritual chamber, he changed.

The sound of the staff hitting the stone floor reverberates off ancient walls. Cazador and his spawn playing their parts, bound together in blood by the Rite. Astarion, levitating at the center, eyes burning red as an aura of blood envelops him. He's chanting the words - the Infernal seance that was once meant to be his end. 

Her tongue lay heavy in her mouth. Words fly across her mind; desperate pleas begging him to reconsider, to stop this. None ever make it past her lips.

Suddenly, the spawn pop. One after the other. 

Pop, pop, pop.

Astarion laughs, loud and boisterous, relishing the new found power that comes with each death.

Finally comes Cazador's turn.

He screams - a true blood-curdling scream. The type you hear moments before a person knows death has come, all too late. His voice carries on as she stands in the chamber, helplessly watching Cazador succumb to the ritual. He bursts at the seams into a pile of pulverized matter, dripping onto the floor below, completely unrecognizable.

Then suddenly, the room is engulfed by a haunting silence.

The Ascension… is complete.

The aura around Astarion fades and he drops down onto the platform below his feet. He remains kneeling for a moment. The sound of his breathing is all that fills the chamber, companions too stunned to speak. 

He rises, slowly turning to face their leader. Looking upon his face, she sees the horrible truth lay bare before her.

Her lover is no more.

She's mourned him, the promise of them, ever since that night. Cried tears until her head throbbed and her face swelled, cried until nothing but sleep could soothe the ache in her heart.

And here he stands behind her, a scowl littering his visage as their eyes meet yet again in the mirror.

Her heart pounds in her throat, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She swallows, asking, “Why did you come here, Astarion?”

Astarion pulls himself back, taking a few paces away from the woman. Folding his arms over his chest, he replies, “My darling Tav, I've come to take you home.”

“Home? I am home,” insists Tav. Turning her body, still seated in her chair, she scans him over.

Moonlit curls sweep elegantly across his forehead, framing his face. Ruby gems glint in the dim light of the room. He's wearing a black and silver doublet, blood-red dragons delicately embroidered on the lapel. Every bit elegant and refined; elite.

Astarion's face softens. He draws closer again, Tav’s breath hitching as his hand cups her chin. Tilting her face up toward his, he states, “I've given you more than enough freedom.” He cranes his head, bringing his lips a breath above her own as he whispers, “Don't you think?”

The velvet grace of his voice makes her dizzy. Tav realizes she feels heat radiating off his skin as their faces draw closer in proximity; a stark contrast to his usual aura. Her face burns - a fire that quickly spreads down into her belly. Tav tries to speak but Astarion closes the distance, lips capturing hers in a delicate embrace. His kiss is soft, alluring, unhurried. 

Gentle, she thinks to herself. He's being so gentle.

“Astarion-” she protests, logic returning to her as she breaks the kiss. Tav scans his face, drawing her head back. Heavy lids fall over his eyes as they transfix upon her lips. He’s hungry, in more ways than one.

She knows that look. It's the very same he'd give her night after night in his tent, when all he wished was to share his body with her. Instead, they'd find other ways to partake in the ecstacy of one another until they were left breathless and panting.

But that was long ago.

Astarion's tongue darts out to lick over his lips as he says, “A lord is nothing without his dearest consort.” He moves to kiss her again, but Tav quickly ducks out of reach. She stands, hands clenched in tight fists.

“No,” she insists, locking eyes with him. She furrows her brow. “I will not be made into your personal plaything!”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest. Astarion tilts his head, a smirk forming on his face. “‘Plaything?’” he reiterates. “Do you believe I think that little of you?” Astarion brushes his knuckles over Tav’s cheek. “My darling treasure,” he begins, “I have many playthings, though none are quite like you.”

Tav’s pupils blow wide.

Astarion means to make her jealous with talk of other lovers. He means to fill her mind with images of him making love to unknown beings. To make her think of him finding pleasure in others who are not her.

She will not rise to it.

“Your chosen harlots aren’t enough?” Tav sneers. “I thought Lord Astarion Ancunín had everything he desired?”

With a scoff, Astarion replies, “You don't get it, do you?” A twinge of impatience can be heard as he says, “You helped make me what I am. We are bound to one another, until the end of time.”

Tav shudders as his hands come up to hold her face. She pulls in a sharp breath, expecting the cold sting of death from his usual chilled palms. Yet, they're completely warm as they cradle her jaw. Another reminder that he is now very much changed. Alive. His cologne assaults her senses once more and her eyes flutter closed as she settles into the strange comfort of his touch.

“My heart will never stop calling for you,” Astarion speaks softly. “No other can satisfy that hunger.” He brushes over her bottom lip with the pad of a thumb and feels her tremble below him. “You are to be my consort, my bride,” he insists, voice stern but low. “That is your role in this.”

Tav falters beneath his touch, allowing herself to be walked back to the wall next to the vanity. Her hands come up to wrap around his wrists. “Such honeyed words,” she retorts. “If I didn't know any better, I'd actually believe you.” Her back connects with the wall and she gasps.

“Tav, look at me,” Astarion demands with urgency. She doesn't comply, turning her head to the side. Slipping a hand from her cheek to grasp her chin, he forcibly turns her head back toward his. “Look at me!” he spits again.

Hesitant to look upon Astarion’s face, Tav cracks her eyes open. Opening them fully, it's not anger that she finds there. Her stomach flips. No, not anger or even disappointment. Instead, she sees… vulnerability.

“I wish I could replace you. I’ve tried,” Astarion bites out through clenched teeth. His face falls as his eyes settle on her. “Nothing can fill the void your absence has left.” He shakes his head slightly before adding, “Something within me screams for you, as if I were alone in a decrepit crypt and only you can save me.”

Her heart beats wildly in her chest. She feels as though she may suffocate, or that her heart may give out at a moment's notice. Tav begins to feel the tendrils of desire dance across her abdomen. They start low in her groin and quickly spread upward, causing a rhythmic contraction of her walls. She cannot fall for this again, she simply must not. All he's done is spout pretty words and step into her presence. And yet…

His breath pants against her face as he rests their foreheads together. The scent of freshly chewed mint whirls beneath her nose. Her vision spins.

In her stupor, Tav hardly notices Astarion's hands slipping under her nightgown. His palms rest on the backs of her thighs and he lifts a leg, allowing more room to slot himself against her core.

Tav groans as their centers meet, arching her back. Her chest presses into his and she moans, hands seeking purchase in his hair as he rocks himself into her once again.

“Astarion,” she pleads, wrapping her leg around the small of his back. A bolt of pleasure shoots up from her groin. She feels her walls clench again in desperation as his hardened cock brush against her cunt, straining against the fabric of his trousers. Her body remembers him and is all too eager to receive him once more.

Astarion knows. He recalls exactly how her body reacts almost on instinct to his touch. He pants against her lips with each roll of his hips into hers. “Come home with me, Tav,” he groans out. “Please, darling. I need you.”

His voice comes out ragged, stressed. Astarion leans against her chest, slipping his face into the nape of her neck. Inhaling deeply, a fire begins smoldering low in his belly. Her scent is of fresh mountain dew in early spring. Floral, sweet, and holding the promise of possibility. His cock twitches in anticipation.

Tav moans, loud and unfiltered. Her knees grow weak and she nearly buckles off the wall if Astarion weren't holding her up. She throws her head against the wall behind her, back arching once again.

“I mourned you,” Tav tells him, nearly breathless. “I mourned us.” She doesn't protest as Astarion lifts her other leg to join in locking around his waist. Tav doesn't fight how he grinds himself into her again, trapping her between himself and the wall. She feels faint, her vision growing fuzzy at the edges, though she manages to huff out, “You don't get to come here and make demands of me, Astarion.”

Astarion pulls his head back leisurely to meet her eyes. “You left me, remember?” he says low in his throat.

“What choice did you leave me with?” Tav exclaims in frustration. “You wanted me to sacrifice my life in order to prove my love for you. You would have never asked that of me before that accursed Rite!”

“I only wish to live out the rest of eternity together,” Astarion replies. “I promised I would protect you, that no harm would ever come to you.”

Tav stares into his face as realization registers in her mind, mouth falling slightly agape. She's gotten used to reading between the lines of his words, so often laced with duplicate meaning. True to his former life as a rogue of the night.

Her mortality is a threat to his oath. 

Astarion cannot fathom going through the rest of time without her. Or, he does, and the thought is too painful for him to ever risk becoming reality. That is what he means to say, though apparently incapable in this new state.

“Isn't this what you wanted?” he asks, quietly. “To be together? Forever?”

Tears well in the creases of her eyelids and Tav sobs. “You are a fool, Astarion Ancunín,” she chides.

Astarion hovers his mouth mere millimeters above hers. “Only for you,” he says. “Always for you.” He captures her lips in a gentle embrace, breathing deeply through his nose as he pushes further into the kiss.

Tav moans into his mouth as she slackens her jaw, creating enough room for their tongues to begin exploring one another. She gasps as Astarion carries her from the wall to her bed on the far side of the room, grabbing at his shoulders for leverage.

“Tell me I may have you,” he asks, breaking the kiss as he lays her down over the mattress. He climbs over her, mouth descending upon her neck. He peppers chaste kisses along the underside of her jaw.

Tav writhes beneath him, whimpers escaping her throat as he licks and suckles on the delicate flesh of her throat. With resolve quickly waning, her hands find purchase again in silver locks as she finally says, “You may, but only for tonight.”

Astarion freezes above her. Hesitantly, he pulls himself back, looking her over as he begins shrugging off his doublet. “Are you sure?” he inquires softly.

This is the perfect opportunity to ask him to turn and leave. To not start this over again, to not return down a path in which she knows there is no favorable end. Though, Tav also cannot deny just how much she has missed him, as well. 

“It's only sex, Astarion,” she tells him, sitting up to undo the ties of her nightgown. “That's all this will be.”

His hands come to rest atop hers, replacing her motions as he pulls gently at the laces of the gown. With the last tie undone her gown falls open, revealing her bare breasts to his heated gaze. Astarion sucks in a sharp breath as he meets her eyes.

“Only sex,” he ponders aloud as he furrows his brow. “But what if I want-”

“No,” Tav interjects, voice firm. “This is all I can give you. You either take this, or you have nothing.” Her breathing comes uneven as she stares back at him, chest heaving. Her nerves have come alight; she cannot fall in love with him again, but she can at least offer him this.

With a curt nod, Astarion replies, “As you wish.” 

His expression is guarded as he fumbles with the laces of his trousers. He pulls his undershirt up and over his head, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor behind the bed. Standing up, he peels off his boots, pants, and underclothes in one fell swoop. He returns to Tav on the bed as bare as the day he was born, following her eyes as they roam down the long plane of his torso. They come to rest between his thighs.

Astarion’s cock stands ready at attention, jumping in tandem with his heartbeat. Saliva pools thick on her tongue and she slips the nightgown down and off her arms. She's left naked before him, not having time to fully dress before his unexpected visit. Tav hears him groan as he looks her over.

A surprised gasp falls from her mouth as he cups her sex. She feels him drag two fingers through the arousal that has already gathered between her folds, and watches as he brings those same fingers to his mouth. A bolt of desire pulls behind her navel as she watches his slick-soaked fingers slip between his lips. He suckles around them, moaning his approval.

With a wet pop, Astarion pulls the two digits from his mouth and places them against her cunt again. They're saturated with his spittle, softly prodding at her entrance.

“A-ah!” Tav gasps as his fingers sink in. It's only two, but Gods how she's struggling to take them. They glide in and out, Astarion occasionally curling his fingers to pass along the spongy spot inside her that turns her vision white.

It's not long before he's pulling his fingers out and lining himself up along her entrance. Astarion spits into his hand, giving himself a few languid strokes. The weight of his cock slaps down heavily as he drags his length through her slickened folds once, twice, before he's finally slipping into her.

Screwing his eyes shut, Astarion lets out a guttural groan as he feels his tip pop through her tense entrance, her warmth enveloping him as he seats himself a bit further before halting. Her walls spasm wildly around his shaft; it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to sink the rest of himself down into her inviting wet heat.

Tav sighs as she finally adjusts, body relaxing around him. She hadn't necessarily forgotten that taking Astarion is no small feat, though she did forget how it feels to actually do so.

“You can move,” she tells him meekly.

He doesn't respond with words; a simple nod of his head is all Tav gets before he's leaning over her, hips slipping further and further toward the backs of her thighs. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, Astarion pulls her into him, pelvis meeting her backside. He growls, cock twitching as his tip brushes against her cervix. 

Tav shudders under him as he pulls out, feeling the dragging of his length within her cunt, only for him to push back in with added force. Her body jerks upward from the power of his thrust. An audible string of whimpers falls freely from her lips as he does it again, and again, and again.

Astarion catches Tav’s hands as she tries reaching for him, pushing them back toward the bedsheets. Confused by his gesture, Tav tries again, only for Astarion to once more shove her hands off of him.

Stunned, Tav looks at his face. Sweat is beginning to gather along his brow, though he keeps perfect composure. There is no lust nor passion to his expression. He looks… removed. Distant. Aloof.

Just… having sex.

“Astarion?” Tav asks, concerned. “I can't touch you?”

He scoffs above her, grunting as he slams his hips again into hers. “Touch is a rather intimate thing,” he says, sarcasm saturating his tone. “Intimacy isn't welcome when you're just having sex.”

“Stop,” Tav demands, hands pressing against his stomach. Astarion immediately ceases his movements. “This is too cold, Astarion,” she says quietly. “This isn't us.”

Above her, Astarion sucks in a large breath. “It is when it's devoid of emotion,” he clarifies, patience wearing thin. “That's what you wanted, isn't it?” He tilts his head, craning his neck to look down upon her. “Just a quick romp?”

“I-”

Venom seeps from his pores as he quickly adds, “If you were ever curious as to how I treat my harlots, well, now you know. It's rather different from our last time, eh? I wonder why that is?” Astarion feigns an inquisitive glance, placing a finger to the side of his mouth as his lips form into a pout.

“Astarion, I-” 

Tav tries desperately to interject, but is disrupted again by Astarion snapping his fingers. “Oh, I know! It's because I made love to you!” he sneers, lips curling over his fangs as he leans closer to her face. “You were never a conquest to me!” he growls. “Never one night it's best to forget.”

Astarion exhales, eyes falling closed in an effort to regain his composure. “If you insist on me treating you like a whore in a brothel, fine,” he says, “I'll do it. But know it's not done willingly.”

Tav remains silent, words failing her. Her body trembles as the full weight of his confession echoes throughout her mind. Pulling in ragged breaths, she questions, “Would you make love to me again? If I asked?”

Astarion huffs out a laugh, his expression softening. “I would raze an entire city for you,” he confirms. “You need only ask.”

A sense of despair enshrouds her as she stares into his ruby red eyes. He still loves her, Tav realizes. As much as, if not more than, the day she left him. Her head pounds; she needs to stop this from going forward. The voice in her head is begging her not to continue, to not risk reopening the wound she's spent the last six months delicately stitching back together.

Their last night together replays in her thoughts. She recalls the all-encompassing feeling of want that radiated off Astarion, that night. He carried her into a world of pleasure she never dreamed possible, all while singing praises deeply into her ear as he rocked in and out of her core. They joined as one, body and soul. Or so Tav thought, until the following morning.

Astarion looks at her now with that same compassion in eyes. He means what he says; he would destroy anyone and anything should she ask it of him. He's already destroyed himself, all in a vow to protect her.

Choking back a sob, she accepts final defeat in the battle her heart fought so desperately since he first came through her window. “Make love to me then, Astarion,” Tav tells him, pleadingly. “The way you used to.”

The flame of the single candle in the room dances in his eyes. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Oh, my sweet,” he purrs, “There's nothing I'd like more,” Astarion brushes her cheek with the back of a palm. His arousal has flagged, still situated within Tav’s warmth, though it stirs back to life as he captures her lips in a hungry kiss.

Tav groans as she feels Astarion's length swell within her walls, noises swallowed by his mouth over hers. When he grows stiff enough, Astarion gives shallow thrusts between her legs. It isn't long until he's back to full virility, rolling his hips into hers in a steady rhythm.

She cries out as he breaks the kiss, one last deep thrust before he's pulling out of her. Pushing her legs back, knees almost hitting her chest, Astarion slips back into place between her thighs. Tav’s knees are being held up by his shoulders as he bends forward, sliding his cock back into her slickened cunt with ease.

Astarion groans as his cock slides down, down, down until his tip nudges the end of her tunnel. Tav gasps as he settles himself impossibly deeper, hips giving a soft push that leaves her womb pulsing. She claws at Astarion’s back when he pulls his hips up slightly, only to crash into her again.

Astarion rests his forehead against Tav’s. He drops his hips repeatedly into her center, eyes locked with hers as he does. The air pushed from her lungs from each of his thrusts passes over his face and he greedily sucks it in. Her face is flushed shades of red and pink as blood rushes through her veins, singing her desire loudly in his ears.

Nails sink into the tender scars on his back and Astarion hisses. With half open eyelids, Tav struggles to keep his gaze, pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. But when she finally does, she sees it. There, in his eyes, is him. The man she fell in love with. 

Astarion's eyes are soft, round, pleading. The eyes of the man she gave herself to repeatedly all those months ago. 

Each night she spent being devoured by his mouth, pulling the very essence of her body into his, she felt it - the sanctity of her oath dangling in the balance. Should she have stuck to her teachings, Astarion would’ve been staked through the heart at first discovery of his true nature. And yet, night after night, she willingly succumbed to the lustful desires that only her blood could provide him.

She moans as he angles his hips sharply on the next downstroke, the head of his cock brushing deliciously up against her spot. The rhythmic fluttering of her tunnel over his shaft pulls a throaty groan from Astarion, who quickly buries his face into the nape of her neck as the sensation wracks through his body. His arms envelop her torso, using her as leverage to increase the pace of her thrusts.

Tav feels her arousal leaking down the cleft of her ass, carved out from her with each plunge of his cock into her cunt. The tip of him rams against her spot repeatedly and she shakes in his arms, pleasure coiling tightly in her belly with not much left to hold onto. “Astarion,” she pants against his ear, mindlessly mouthing at his lobe. “Gods, Astarion…”

He groans again against her neck, skin muffling most of it. The sounds of their joint arousal fill the room, and Astarion pulls his lips back in anticipation of his impending climax. The smoldering fire in his belly has erupted into hellfire, threatening to consume all and any in its path if not quelled soon.

Fangs press into the delicate skin of her neck and Tav shivers, hands flying into his hair and grasping, pulling. “Do not bite me, Astarion,” Tav says, panicked.

Humming his disapproval, Astarion reluctantly pulls his head away from her neck. He rests his forehead against hers again. “Where do you want me, Tavaria?” The question comes quietly, unguarded. Strained.

Tavaria.

The sound of her full name on his tongue sends pulses of desire through her belly. He's close, Tav realizes. Astarion pants against her face as his thrusts grow more uneven. Moving a hand to his jaw, Tav holds his cheek, rubbing his chin with her thumb. “However you want,” comes her reply.

Astarion shudders, a moan slipping past his lips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull momentarily. He blinks back into focus, chest heaving as his breathing becomes labored. He's barely lifting hips into Tav, instead giving short stuttering thrusts that have his tip kissing her cervical os.

“Tav, please,” he begs. “Tell me.”

Silver strands of hair stick to his sweat-soaked forehead. Brushing them out of the way with a hand, she plants a kiss between his brow. “Inside,” she coos. “It's okay.”

Carnal desire flares behind Astarion's eyes. He grunts, raw and guttural as he dips his head back into the crook of her neck. He feels his cock begin to swell, a telltale sign that his release is imminent.

Tav whimpers as Astarion rams over her pleasure point again and again, the fattened head of his cock dragging along her walls. It doesn't take much longer before she's screaming out her completion below him, nails digging into the skin of his marred back.

Astarion roars out his own climax above her, balls pulling up tightly as fangs sink into the pillow next to her. He floods her channel with his seed, tiny rolls of his hips pulling groans from his chest as he rides out the wave. Tav’s walls are more than willing to massage the rest of his spend from his balls and into her greedy womb.

They lay together panting, post-coital haze in full effect. It isn't until Astarion shifts to pull out his softening member that Tav feels it - his spend dribbling from her entrance and onto the nightgown under her. He's the first to leave the bed, shaking his head while running a hand through tousled locks. Tav watches him disappear into her washroom as she slowly sits herself up onto her elbows.

The sound of water running into the tub can be heard and Astarion reappears in the doorway. He returns to the bed, Tav gasping as he scoops her up into his arms and carries her toward the washroom.

“What are you doing, Astarion?” she asks, mind still clouded by her peak. She loops her hands around his neck, lolling her head against his shoulder.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he kisses the top of her head. “Taking care of you,” he answers, bringing them both across the threshold of the washroom.

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

Tav awakens the next morning alone, tucked snuggly in her bed. The events of the night are hazy as she slowly regains consciousness. She doesn't recall when or how she fell asleep. Peeling off the covers and giving herself a quick look over, she realizes she's dressed in her nightgown again. The ties are neatly in place, eerily similar to how she had them before.

Looking around her room, there's no evidence that Astarion had been present. The papers she swore fell to the floor are all stacked neatly on her dresser. The candle has been hushed out, and her windows closed. 

Was it a dream? she ponders, heart rate rising as her confusion grows. 

Her eyes scan the room frantically in an attempt to find a single piece out of place. Finally, she finds the answer she is searching for laying atop her vanity. Rising out of bed, Tav walks over to find a single rose laid across the top of the desk. He was here, Tav notes to herself, bringing the rose to her face. She inhales its sweet scent, dread filling her heart as the heavy weight of last night begins to actualize.

No, it was very real. And it’s only just beginning.

[syrma-sensei]

→ Red Crown.

gif credit.

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Word Count: 800

Warnings: fxf, cunnilingus, infidelity, cursing...

Summary: The rightful sovereign of Westros is lonely abed at night. She yearns for her absent king consort's warmth. You decide to take matters into your hands and bring her some comfort.

You loosen the neat braid with heedful hands and Queen Rhaenyra's silver hair grazes softly against your fingers.

She's always both elegant and eloquent, but tonight, she was regal and imposing at the banquet she had with the dragonseeds whom claimed her dragons.

You pick up the studded hairbrush and start to splay comb her hair with reverence, before you set it aside and massages her scalp tenderly with your fingertip. “Mmm, just like that,” The Queen leans her head backwards at your touch.

She told you about the headache she was suffering after that supper. The weight of the crown, she claimed. But there's more to her ire. That insolent dragonnseed, the one Silverwing let mount her back. Ulf, you remember. You wish you could rip out his tongue and shove it down his throat that he dared talk to The Queen in such an impudent manner. You scoff internally at the idea of such a lowborn taming a god-like, fire-breathing creature.

However, Queen Rhaenyra was generous and sagacious enough to let Ulf’s impertinence slide because she believed it was gods willing that put him on the she-dragon’s back. And she's in need of dragons to fight this bloody war. She needs every asset she can get, especially in the absence of her husband, Prince Daemon.

You can't find it within herself to forgive the King Consort for abandoning his queen for The Seven know what. He left her facing the bitterness of her Black Council alone.

Queen Rhaenyra lets out an elongated sigh as you rub her scalp.

You've been assigned to be Queen Rhaenyra’s chamber handmaid, in Elinda’s stead, after she went on her secretive delegation to King's Landing. An assignment that holds a great matter of importance. You wish you were in her place. You wish you could serve your queen the way Elinda is right now. However, your duties are no less important than Elinda's. You make it a point to take care of your lady with utmost care. Everyday, you make sure she's eating well, and in top notch prestige; nothing less than the true protector of the realm should be.

Despite your best efforts, you still sense there's something The Queen is missing. And after days in her personal service, you figured out she misses her husband aplenty. The lengthy absence of her rock leaves the queen in confusion and great frustration.

“Mhm, that's enough.” She says in a soft voice, then prepares herself for you to dress her in her nightgown.

You nod, fetching the soft cerulean gown she prefers to sleep in. You're quick to notice her colour preferences. Rhaenyra always wears black and red at daylight, and blue with its vibrant hues at night. A Targaryen under the sun, an Arryn under the moon. You grow fond of the way she intimately attributes the houses of her inheritance.

With deft fingers, you unhook the laces of her black dress, then her undergarments. That's when you see streaks of blood trailing down her inner thighs.

“Gods be good.” She murmurs, “If only I had a cock instead of this heinous, bleeding cunt.”

Your eyes fly wide at her statement, but you don't answer her remark. Instead, you drop on one knee in front of her, dabbing a clean cloth on her thighs.

Your eyes can't but stare at her mound, where coarse silver curls are sprouting red from her moon blood. Your eyes look up at her face to see she's looking away, as if she hates it, hates what makes her a woman, what makes some people question her eligibility for the throne, her right to be her late father's true heiress.

You gaze down again at her mound, contemplating for a moment, before you kiss the spot above her slit.

The Queen gasps and glances down at you. There's a silent yet couraging glint in her eyes that tells you to do it again. And that's what you do.

You kiss the soft skin, letting her Valyrian curls nip at your chin. She moans when you swipe your tongue along her bloodied, wet folds.

“Ñuhyz jaehossa!*” She gasps again as the tip of your tongue flickers the hood of her clitoris. You taste the metallic hint of her blood on your tongue. Her Valyrian blood; dragon blood. You drink it as if it's sweeter than the Dornish wine.

She rasps something in her native language, before her arousal diluted her moon blood. And you clean it all.

After that you wipe your mouth with the same cloth and dress your lady in her gown. Then, you help her to climb her bed. The satisfied glimmer in her eyes tells you there will be a next time.

You can't wait.

*Ñuhyz jaehossa!: Oh Gods!

🐉 A Song Of Ice And Fire Masterlist

🐉 Main Masterlist

[moodymisty]

What kind of nicknames/titles do you think each Primarch's wife would get?

There's some that all the wives share, just adjusted to fit with their husband. Lady of [primarch's planet]. Lady of the [Legion name]. And if the primarch is one with a last name, she uses her husband's last name. (Lady Guilliman, Lady Lupercal, Lady Aurelian, etc)

But most/all of the wives would have nicknames/titles unique to them.

Magnus's wife could be called the Red Lady.

Konrad's wife could be called Lady of the Night, but that's also an euphemism for a prostitute, so maybe not. I don't think any Primarch, especially Konrad, would like someone else calling their wife a slut.

Since the Primarchs presumably didn't know about Alpharius and Omegon being twins, they probably assume Omegon is Alpharius's last name. So their shared wife would be called Lady Omegon, which would please the actual Omegon greatly. He may only be able to be with her in public as Alpharius, but she is his Lady. It's a way for both brothers to show their claim over her. She's Alpharius's wife, Lady Omegon.

If a Primarch has a title/nickname that's Lord of [X] or the [X] Lord (like Perturabo being the Lord of Iron), she could be called the Lady of [X]/the [X] Lady (Perturabo's wife being the Lady of Iron)

I added all the ones I think since i imagine that not all of them would use the same default titles. Other people feel free to add!

Lion El'Jonson:

Beginning of relationship: Woman, Lion’s woman

Farther into relationship: Lady of the Dark Angels, but it’s usually rarely

Roboute Guilliman:

Lady Guilliman, Lady of Macragge, Lady of the Ultramarines, Consort of the Lord Regent, she has a lot of titles and it bugs her greatly lol

Magnus The Red:

The Red Lady, Consort of The Crimson King

Rogal Dorn:

Lady Dorn, Lady of the Imperial Fists. Their titles are very practical and literal.

Ferrus Manus:

None in my opinion. Other legions might call her Manus’ lady simply for lack of anything else to say.

Perturabo:

Lady of Iron, but in my opinion yet another legion/primarch that doesn’t use a lot of titles. Half because Perturabo doesn’t let them even perceive her; Forrix once called her Perturabo’s bitch and he beat the man bloody. And then he called her bitch in private. He’s toxic.

Fulgrim:

This one I actually have no ideas! Fulgrim is my least touched upon primarch but I’m sure he’d have many titles for her, what do you guys think?

Vulkan:

Lady of Drakes, Lady/Mother of the Salamanders, My Lady, Mother, etc. Unlike the other legions they all really want to associate with her as a legion not just Vulkan

Corvus Corax:

Raven Mother, Lady Corax. Surprisingly uninspired.

Alpharius/Omegon:

When Alpharius talking it’s Lady Omegon, when it’s Omegon talking it’s just My Lady

Internally, Lady/Mother of the Hydra

Konrad Curze:

None really, Shang or Sevatar might call her Lady Curze as a demeaning joke, and other legions call her Lady of the Night Lords simply because she’s basically an unknown to them. In my opinion Curze actively hides her until he can no longer.

Sanguinius:

Lady or Lady Angel, Lady of Baal, Mother Angel later on

Lorgar Aurelian:

Lady Aurelian, Lady/Goddess of Colchis, Lady/Goddess/Mother of the Word Bearers. He really loves cramming goddess into her titles

Mortarion:

None that I can think of, other than the obvious

Jaghatai Khan:

This one I’m also not sure one, but I also don’t think Khan is a super title driven guy. Given he isn’t for himself either.

Leman Russ:

Wolf Mother, Den Mother, Lady/Mother of the Wolves, Russ’ bitch

Horus Lupercal:

Lady Lupercal, and that's probably it. Horus jokingly tried to get his Mournival to call her Princess Lupercal once and she tried to smack him.

Angron:

none really. I HC that their relationship is too unknown to title, and so any formal interactions usually just hesitantly call her Lady or Consort to Angron, since that’s the closest descriptor.

[jymwahuwu]

I love and think about Emperor Jing Yuan a lot. Like a servant girl getting called in to be the emperor Jing Yuan's Concubine 😋

I love ancient China like the history, art and clothing. when I think about Chinese Emperor Jing Yuan I think of Cinderella Chef (animated version) it's so cute and romantic. I also think about the fic series I used to read in 2020 or 2019 when the reader is the selected tailor for the emperor and the emperor falls in love.

It was such a good story, with many good different story elements to it even though it's was an yandere x reader 😭 and I'm not even exaggerating how good it is. It was slow burn yandere yet sooo good and worth it

I have to read it again cause it's sooo good.

There's sooo many good art of Jing Yuan in ancient Chinese clothing and I love and appreciate it sm 🤤

Jing Yuan kept a servant girl as his concubine, wanting her by his side every moment. As emperor, he faced countless threats and worried constantly for her safety. Yet, he couldn’t resist making her his bride, even though the public and his family disapproved. How could a servant girl from a humble background become empress alongside the emperor? But he paid no attention to their criticisms, choosing instead to live in his Fantasies with her. She was the only woman he’d ever met who cared for him beyond his wealth and title, and he was determined to keep her close forever. 😇

Wow, I also like Chinese palace stories actually!! What you said made me imagine a lot. It turns out that Jing Yuan is so suitable for the palace AU🥰✊

Have you watched "Story of Yanxi Palace"? It was a popular palace drama in 2018, and social media was all about it at that time. The historical prototype of the female protagonist is Empress Xiaoyichun (孝儀純皇后). She first started as a concubine. During her lifetime, she was the "Imperial Noble Consort" (皇貴妃), which was the highest position among the concubines after Empress. The core of its story is about a confident servant woman who starts from the bottom and moves up through the ranks with wisdom and courage.

A negative example is "Ruyi's royal love in the palace". The show still gets a lot of negative criticism in China today (yes, that's happening in 2024) - for its slut-shaming and superiority theories. The lower class people must be loyal to the noble people, otherwise they will be severely punished. There are a lot of torture scenes of women, never criticizing the mistakes of the misogynistic system, vilifying all historical figures just to beautify the female protagonists, advocating that women must be loyal to one man throughout their lives or else they are sluts, vilifying and torturing ambitious women, etc.

Oh, I'm sorry I really hate that TV show so I'm talking too much about it, but to get back to the point, it occurred to me that if Jing Yuan were the emperor, he would be very - very infatuated and dedicated. There was an emperor in Chinese history called "Emperor Xiaozong of Ming"(明孝宗) who insisted on living a monogamous life with only one empress. The same is true for Jing Yuan! Jing Yuan has only married you from beginning to end! You are one of his servants. No matter what your personality is, witty and lively/shy and kind, or even arrogant, Jing Yuan finds you really cute🥰💖He is very happy that you entered the palace and were assigned to serve him. He will sometimes sleep on your lap and ask you to feed him. He was like a big sleeping lion. But no one in politics dares to underestimate Jing Yuan because he always predicts everything.

Jing Yuan built a fruit garden in the palace, as well as a place to raise cats and birds. He got to pet cute cats and birds every day. The kittens purred around him. Maybe you were the servant who took care of the cats here. And he discovered you💖You are so suitable to be the mother of cats. And maybe he's hiding his identity and you care about his health and happiness before his status.

Politics and the harem are closely related. Those ministers petitioned Jing Yuan to marry a girl who matched his status, but he would not marry any girl except you. This is his own business! There was an emperor named "Emperor Gaozong of Tang"(唐高宗) in Chinese history. Despite the objections of his ministers, he insisted on marrying his father's concubine (named "Wuzhao"- 武曌) as his queen and sharing power with her. This is a very real love among emperors! After her husband's death, the queen became the only female emperor of China. The expression of the emperor's love for someone is to give them the best at all costs, including power, fame, wealth, and status. Jing Yuan wants to give it to you. He married you. Based on your status as a maid, you start as a concubine but work your way up. And he will also give birth to kitty babies with you. Those little princesses and princes running happily are all of your blood and his.

And he also decided to discuss politics and decide national affairs with you, collectively called "two saints" (based on Wuzhao's history haha), and share power with you. Because he knows how smart and cute you are, able to sharpen your claws and handle government affairs💖He is also ready to build a royal mausoleum, where only the two of you are buried together (it may be a bit scary, but this is how the Chinese emperors express their love haha). Even after Wuzhao became the empress, she didn’t build a mausoleum independently because she loved her husband. No matter what, you are always together, with sweetness and honor forever💖

[silmarillaure]

Headcanons about Jaehaerys & Alysanne's children

Daenerys

Daenerys was a dragon dreamer but died too young to realize it.

She bore a heavy resemblance to Daenys the Dreamer who she was named after.

Aemon

He really did want Rhaenys to be his heir but was painfully aware of Jaehaerys's misogyny. He only hoped for a grandson so his line wouldn't be displaced incase he died before Jaehaerys.

Aemon stood on business when it came to his loved ones & would've decapacitated Corlys for cheating on Rhaenys if he found out.

Had a hidden darker side to him that manifested in Caraxes's volatile nature.

Baelon

Baelon was a very good dad, it's not his fault at all that his sons turned out so horrible.

He's not misogynistic, but he's not a feminist either (I'm never forgiving him for not standing up for Rhaenys).

Aemond resembles him a lot.

Alyssa

Alyssa was completely a girl's girl and would never have been ok with Rhaenys being displaced even if it meant she'd become Queen consort or her son would be King.

She married Baelon when she could have had Aemon, her brother who was the heir, she wouldn't hurt another woman, let alone her niece for ambitions sake.

Daemon was her favorite son but she actually would not have been proud of the person he grew into (B&C would've disgusted her).

Maegelle

She only paid as much attention to Daella as she did because she felt Daella was the only sibling who loved her.

Aemon was nice but too busy to have time for her, Baelon & Alyssa couldn't make their disinterest in her more obvious, Vaegon was very heavily introverted with a serious case of rbf, Saera was bratty and inappropriate, Viserra was haughty, & she was fully grown by the time Gael was born.

Vaegon

On the spectrum but high functioning.

Alysanne partially blamed him of Daella's death. She never outwardly said "you killed her" or anything but it messed with his head. Even if you're not close to your family, having the feeling your own mother resents you doesn't feel nice.

Had a falling out with her after Viserra's death. He wasn't close to his second youngest sister but being aware of how Alysanne mistreated her coupled with seeing how she treated Gael made him realize he wasn't the problem, he never was.

Admired Maegelle's intelligence but never understood her devotion the the faith.

Was grateful Jaehaerys let him do what he wanted, but he never believed he was missed. They were always pretty low contact so it felt like Jaehaerys wrote to him out of obligation, and then suddenly after Baelon dies Jaehaerys is writing to him nonstop and always asking him to visit and then offers him the throne. It always made Vaegon question "does he love me or am I just all he has left?"

Daella

Dyslexic and had severe anxiety.

A dragon dreamer, but she didn't have any major dreams other than her own death.

Saera

Saera was Jaehaerys's favorite daughter until their falling out but was still neglected because a favorite daughter does not compare to a son for a misogynist like Jaehaerys.

While loved, she was neglected by Alysanne as well & took it out on Daella for being the favorite.

Not a feminist but the type who believes she should be treated better than other women like Rhaenyra.

Named one of her sons Maegor.

Viserra

Heavily neglected by both Jaehaerys and Alysanne. (poor girl)

The only reason she was vain about her appearance was because no one ever let her to find self worth in anything besides it.

Was not actually close to Saera, they felt pitted against each other being of similar age, having similar-ish personalities, getting similar amounts of attention from guys etc... only Viserra was prettier & Saera was smarter.

Surprisingly liked and was a good big sister to Gael though.

Gael

Gael looked like Daella, was sweet like Daella, & was small and fragile like Daella... so she basically got treated like a Daella replacement by Alysanne.

She was braver than Daella though, & more rebellious.

Also on the spectrum, but completely disinterested in general studies like math, science, & geography which Vaegon liked.

Hyperfixated on music. She was initially charmed by her traveling singer lover/the father of her child due his talent.

Tried to get away from Alysanne as much as she could because her mom was overprotective & isolated her a lot.

Was inconsolable for months after Viserra died. Later when she found out the specifics behind it, her opinion on Alysanne soured.

Was never close to Jaehaerys despite him being the one who insisted on having her because he was disappointed she was a girl and immediately lost interest.

[lovedreamer11]

Reflections on how Rhaenyra lost her beauty

It's amazing how persistently people shout that Rhaenyra has gained a lot of excess weight after three pregnancies and at the age of twenty she "lost all her beauty."

Alyssa Velaryon bore her first husband, Aenys, six children. But, attention, no one is saying that she has become ugly and unwanted. In fact, this lustful animal, Rogar, continued to sleep with her even after Alyssa was forty years old and everyone around her believed that she could no longer become pregnant.

Elinor Costayne was nineteen years old and had three children with her first husband. And she was still an attractive woman. She did not lose her beauty after the birth of three children.

Alysanne Targaryen gave birth to thirteen children. But the maesters tactfully keep silent about the impact that a lot pregnancies had on Alysanne’s appearance.

Daenaera Velaryon bore her husband five children in eight years. Daeron was born in 143, Baelor in 144, Daena in 145, Rhaena in 147, Elaena was born in 150. Daenaera gave birth to her three eldest children, one after the other, every year. And nowhere is it mentioned that Daenaera became ugly.

Elaena Targaryen gave birth to seven children, but it is mentioned that as she grew older she became even more beautiful than in her youth.

Rohanne of Tyrosh, wife of Daemon Blackfyre, gave birth more than seven times, but no one bothered to hound her and discuss her appearance.

Dyanna Dayne, Maekar Targaryen's wife, bore him six children, but again, her appearance is never mentioned or discussed.

Betha Blackwood bore five children with Aegon V and again there was no discussion of her appearance.

Rhaenyra is literally the only woman who has been harassed and abused in every possible way for her appearance. The appearance of all the other women who often gave birth to children did not turn them into the hulking monsters that some fans believe Rhaenyra to be, or were not mentioned at all by the maesters. Do you know why?

All of them were either consorts of kings or were not such important political figures. But at the request of the king, Rhaenyra went against the traditions of Westeros and became the first woman to become queen in her own right, and not as a consort. Rhaenyra's only sin was that she was a woman who had power that no other woman in Westeros had. Rhaenyra never asked her father to make her his heir, but she accepted the king's will and fought for what was rightfully hers. But we all read how the patriarchal inhabitants of Westeros and the Cetadelle reacted to this. I'm willing to bet money that if Rhaenyra had not been Viserys's heir, then in the chronicles the courtiers would continue to talk about her as a hot beauty.

It's really funny that Mushroom writes that Rhaenyra was jealous of Alicent's appearance, but Alicent herself was not as beautiful as her daughter Helaena, and Helaena was described as not as bright and beautiful as most Targaryens, and Rhaenyra as a teenager was one of the most beautiful maidens Westeros. And do you really believe that because Rhaenyra gave birth to three sons, she instantly went from hot Valyrian beauty to ugly one?

[luneengene2]

The Emperor's Choice

• Pairings : emperor!leehan x fem!reader

• Synopsis : (Empire AU) Your father intends to matchmake your sister with the young Emperor who was just crowned a few months ago. Oh of course your father chose your older sister, because your older sister is his legitimate daughter, while you? You are just the Illegitimate child of his deceased former concubine, aka your mother. After all, there was no way an Emperor would choose an illegitimate daughter? He would want the best Empress Consort for his empire. But, what would happen if the young emperor chose you to be his future empress? Something you never expected.

• Words Count : 4000+

• Warnings : Ft IVE Wonyoung, ZEROBASEONE Gunwook, The practice of concubinage, Violence of a father, injustice in the family, status insults, SHORT SMUT CONTENT (ass slapping, creampie, make-out), grammar errors. Tell me if I missed anything.

• Notes : Hard & Soft Thought (For all idols, soloists, actresses & actors, Fictional characters whether in Korean dramas, western films or novels or anything), and requests (Only for the groups I listed in the masterlist) ARE OPEN!

"I don't want to marry Emperor Donghyun, father! I already have a lover!" Your older sister, Wonyoung, stared at your father in frustration. She had been crying for days because of your father's ego. Even though this family has a high status, Wonyoung never wanted to marry a fellow noble, let alone the Emperor. She wanted to live a 'normal life' after getting married. Her lover is a commoner who doesn't even have aristocratic status in society. However, because of your father's ambition, he would never let Wonyoung marry a commoner. Moreover, Wonyoung is his legitimate daughter who is quite 'sought' after by high-class nobles. He used the opportunity to further enter the circles of government and power of the Empire.

Because of his crazy ambition in government, Wonyoung was also successful in being included in the list of prospective daughter-in-law by the queen mother, aka the mother of Emperor Donghyun. The queen mother is also the most insistent on meeting Wonyoung in person in the near future. She also seems to have made Wonyoung her top choice. Mr. Jang, aka your father, was so sure that Wonyoung would be the one chosen for her son.

Your father made Wonyoung a 'tool' so that he could become the prime minister of this empire easily without any obstacles whatsoever. This very unhealthy desire and ambition is also fully supported by Mrs. Jang, aka Wonyoung's mother. He wanted to see his daughter become an empress and become the center of attention of the empire. She also wanted to be labeled as the empress's mother and see her blood become an Emperor. It was the highest honor, any noble would want it.

"Stop being rebellious, Wonyoung! I only want the best for you! Leave your low-class lover and try to get Emperor Donghyun's attention!" Mr Jang glared at his daughter. And of course, Wonyoung was never afraid of that, since she was little she was not an obedient daughter. Even so, but she is the one whose future is most cared for, because she is a legitimate child. Even though you are an obedient child, your father will never treat you and Wonyoung the same. Because the status of your mother and her mother is clearly very different. Your mother was just your father's concubine who was taken to produce a baby boy. But, your mother died after giving birth to you. And not long after, Mrs. Jang successfully became pregnant again and gave birth to a son, who is now the main heir to the Jang family, Gunwook. Making your status even more forgotten, and you are not blind and deaf to know that your father and also Mrs Jang never liked your presence. Especially Mrs Jang, she hates you because you are the daughter of the woman who was your father's concubine. However, you are also lucky to have half-siblings like Wonyoung and Gunwook. They love you very much and treat you very well.

"You never wanted the best for me! You only want your stupid ambition to get the most elite position in this government and empire!" Mrs. Jang pulled her daughter's shoulder to face her. Glaring at her and squeezing her shoulders, he seemed to want to threaten his daughter.

"Follow our orders, Wonyoung. If you don't, we can do the worst to your stupid boyfriend," Wonyoung was weak when her mother used her lover for this threat. Wonyoung had always been weak when it came to her lover.

Behind the door, you only look at Wonyoung's pity which ends up being threatened by her own mother. Even though Wonyoung seemed strict, you knew very well how your older sister was. She is weak in her love for her lover. Of course, she would rather sacrifice than see something bad happen to her lover.

___

You stare in awe from your balcony as you see a line of luxury cars driving into the front yard of your family's manor. The entourage of the Emperor and his mother. Today, your father 'accepted' them to be introduced directly to Wonyoung.

But, you couldn't see that 'great' moment directly, your father forbade you from meeting the Emperor directly. He was afraid that it would worsen the situation, especially since there were many rumors and news that this new young Emperor upheld monogamy. So, you are only allowed to stay in your room until the Emperor returns to the government palace.

A man with long black hair got out of the car in the fourth row. He was the young emperor. You can clearly see how handsome the young emperor is. It makes you very fascinated. You can only see his face on television, magazines, or articles in online media. And he is exactly the same as the one you often see in those three news media. Even more handsome. She looks so dignified. Wonyoung is so lucky if she is directly chosen by the Emperor as his future wife.

Suddenly, Emperor Donghyun's gaze was directed at you who was on the balcony. That was because he was busy looking up at the magnificent building of Jang's manor. As a result, he saw you standing on the balcony. You froze when you realized Emperor Donghyun's gaze was on you, he didn't even take his eyes off you.

Emperor Donghyun, who had been staring blankly without taking his eyes off you, snapped out of his reverie when his mother patted his shoulder to enter the Manor. Mr. and Mrs. Jang gave a warm and respectful welcome to the Empress Mother and the Emperor.

You also snapped out of your frozen position as Emperor Donghyun walked over to your father and Mrs Jang. Before he finally disappeared behind the manor entrance. Sure enough, he was going to start this serious conversation.

You have many mixed thoughts about Wonyoung's arranged marriage. On one hand, you are very happy that she can get the best husband and is being fought for by her father. But on the other hand, you also think about his lover who comes from an ordinary background. If Wonyoung can't go against her parents' wishes, she will experience a tragic love story because she is hindered by her parents' blessing.

___

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Miss Y/N, I came to bring you some afternoon snacks," It was your maid's voice. Normally, you would have gotten your own lunch snack, but since you weren't allowed to leave the room, she was the one who brought it to you.

You, who were busy with your laptop, immediately got out of bed to open the door. The door is open. "Thank-"

"WOOF WOOF!" You glared when your beloved poodle, Bowie, suddenly barked and ran out of your room as you opened the door for your maid. He ran out of the room, making you panic.

"Oh no! Bowie!" You also immediately dashed out of the room, forgetting your father's order that you should not leave the room. And this was all because of Bowie who suddenly came out of your room.

Bowie ran fast down the second floor hallway and would soon reach the stairwell. You even took off your flat shoes to run faster, so you ended up running barefoot.

___

"So how is it? Wonyoung looks perfect when she's with Empe-"

"Bowie stop!" Mr Jang stopped his words when he heard a girl's scream from upstairs, and it made him stare in shock. All eyes, Including the empress, mother were of course immediately directed towards the second floor. Everyone could clearly see you running down the stairs to chase your dog.

Donghyun, the young emperor's gaze was very different when he saw a girl he had seen on the balcony earlier. The gaze was like worship (?). And that gaze was noticed by Wonyoung, which actually made Wonyoung grin widely. She seemed to have a big plan.

"Bo-AAA!" You let out a loud scream as your foot suddenly slipped from the fifth stair from the bottom. And you could tell that your body would be on the ground in a matter of seconds.

"Y/N!" Wonyoung screamed hysterically when she saw that her sister would be in trouble in less than ten seconds.

And before your body hit the floor, someone swiftly caught your body and hugged you tightly. Donghyun. Making everyone there hold their breath heavily, including your father and Mrs. Jang. Gunwook was even slower than Donghyun when he tried to catch you too.

You widened your eyes when you realized whose arms you had fallen into. The arms of a young emperor who might soon become your brother-in-law.

You hurriedly let go of his hug, bowing repeatedly and apologizing. "Forgive me, Majesty! I am truly sorry for being rude to you! Forgive me! Please forgive me!" You said in a voice that was shaking with fear, because you were afraid that this would offend Donghyun.

"Stop that!" Donghyun held your shoulders tightly as you continued to hunch over, even though your leg must be in extreme pain from the sprain. "Are you okay?" Donghyun asked with concern, as did his gaze. You didn't answer his question, making him take action again. He slowly made you sit on the stairs, taking your feet to put on his lap. And of course that made you pull your feet off his lap. "M-Majesty, what are you doing?" You asked in a horrified tone.

"Be quiet, I'm trying to make your leg better. Get me some olive oil!" He ordered the people around him, but no one would move, including Wonyoung and Gunwook. "Do you hear me? I need olive oil! Get it now!" Wonyoung immediately responded to the firm tone. She hurriedly took out the olive oil and gave it to him.

Donghyun slowly massaged your leg and 'fixed' the position of your veins. He understood this technique, because it was one of the survival methods he learned in the military. You winced and squealed a few times because of it, but the results were actually very good.

"Are you better?" Donghyun looked up and looked at you softly, you nodded. You were sure, if only you and him were in this room, he could hear clearly how your heart was beating faster. Wonyoung and Gunwook who were standing next to each other immediately exchanged glances and grinned. Especially Wonyoung, she was sure that Donghyun seemed more interested in his sister than her.

"Majesty-"

"What's your name?" Donghyun cut you off, he immediately asked about your name. So curious about the name of the beautiful girl in front of him.

"Y/N," You answered immediately, Donghyun smiled sweetly when he heard your name. If you are sensitive, he is very interested in you.

"Are you the daughter of the Jang family?”

"No, Majesty. She is just our family maid and-"

"Yes, she is the daughter of the Jang family. She is my sister and Gunwook's sister, but we have different mothers," Wonyoung cut off her father's words sharply when he admitted that you were a maid, not his daughter. Mr. and Mrs. Jang immediately stared sharply at their first child. Mr Jang also immediately became tense when he received unpleasant looks from the Empress Dowager and Emperor Donghyun.

"Why do you say your own daughter is a maid? This is a despicable act, Mr. Jang," Donghyun stared blankly at Mr. Jang, completely disliking what he said. From the way he spoke and what he said, Donghyun could immediately tell that Mr Jang was not a good person and father.

"Ah, that's not it, Majesty. Her late mother was just my concubine, so she's not really my daughter." You let out a harsh breath as your father said that reason. You were used to being treated unfairly like this. It was like your daily food.

"Are you insane? In the Imperial environment, my grandfather's grandchildren who are direct descendants of his concubines are legally recognized by the Empire. They can even get treatment like the grandchildren of an Emperor. They are still respected even though my grandfather has passed away. Their grandmother, who was my grandfather's concubine, was still respected by the Empire and the people. And you? You are a noble, but you are not responsible for what you take. If you choose to have a concubine, then you must be responsible for the child of your concubine. There is no need to have a concubine if you are not capable of carrying out the responsibilities you want, like my late father. My father was faithful to my mother, he practiced monogamy because he was not strong enough to 'take care of' a concubine. I should punish you for your irresponsible attitude towards your own child," Emperor Donghyun's words successfully made Mr and Mrs Jang stare in shock. Emperor Donghyun openly wanted to punish them for what they did. Their actions are like abandoning the children in their own family.

"But because you are the father of my future wife, so I forgive what you did. I don't want my future wife to walk down the aisle without her father," Donghyun's words immediately made Mr. Jang smile again after being tense for a few seconds.

"Majesty, so you want my Wonyoung to be your-"

"Not Wonyoung, but Y/N,"

Silence. Everyone was silent after what the young emperor said. Including you. Your face was shocked, pale, and made your tongue numb to speak. He chose you. You heard that right.

"Majesty, we are presenting Wonyoung, not the daughter of my husband's concubine. An illegitimate child has no right to the position of empress," Mrs Jang felt that she could not accept it. She wanted the label of being the Empress' mother for her, not for her late husband's concubine. She wanted her daughter to sit on the throne as the consort of an emperor, not the child of a concubine.

"Who said that, ma'am?” Donghyun asked coldly, he stood up from his squatting position to face the Jang husband and wife directly. "There is nothing wrong with her being my empress. It is not her fault that she was born from a concubine. If the people can love me, they will be able to love my empress regardless of whose daughter she is,"

Wonyoung felt like screaming with joy at that moment. Her beloved sister could now get a happiness that she never got. Wonyoung, she doesn't need to leave her love.

"Majesty, no,” you slowly stood up from your sitting position slowly. Making Donghyun look back at you. "I don't want to take away what my sister deserves. Wonyoung's mother was right, an illegitimate child had no right to the position of empress," Donghyun smiled, he walked closer to you. His hand reached out to stroke your hair, he looked like he was really in love with you.

"You deserve what your sister gets. You and her are the same, both of you are your father's daughters even though you were born from different mothers. I chose you because I know you deserve the position, I know you can be a good mother for my children in the future. The most important thing is that my heart's choice is definitely the best. I choose you with my heart and feelings," Donghyun said softly. You shook your head, wanting to say something, but Donghyun immediately cut you off (again).

"Look at Wonyoung, she looks happy with what you're going to get," You turned to Wonyoung, and sure enough. She was smiling brightly and looked very happy, the look in her eyes couldn't lie. She is genuinely happy with what you get, not jealous. Not only Wonyoung, Gunwook also couldn't help but look happy. Maybe they felt, soon you will be out of hell. Aka from the clutches of their parents.

"Majesty, give Emperor Donghyun an understanding. You know this is wrong,” Mrs Jang approached the Empress Mother who looked calm even though she had initially looked shocked. The Empress Mother Kim turned to Madam Jang, smiling faintly. "What do you mean by 'wrong'? There is nothing wrong with my son choosing what he wants. Why should I give him an understanding? I always support what he chooses, I know. What my son chooses must be the best. I trust in his choice," Mrs. Jang felt like going berserk right then and there, her gaze was so full of hatred towards you.

"Refusing what the Emperor wants is an insult to him, Sissy. His wishes are good, he wants to give you happiness," Wonyoung gives you words of encouragement so that you don't back down. You were silent, confused about what to say. All the different gazes were directed at you. And what you fear most is the hateful gazes of your father and Mrs Jang.

"Guards!" Donghyun signaled his bodyguard. A bodyguard in formal attire approached Donghyun with a medium-sized and wide box. Donghyun opened the box, holding up a tiara that was so beautiful and so pretty. The tiara must have looked very expensive. And you know what tiara it is. The Heart's Desire Tiara. The tiara was used by male heirs to the throne or emperors almost hundreds of years ago to propose to their future wives. One of the most historic collections of jewelry in the Empire. This is a unique tradition, because usually the proposal is done by exchanging rings or giving rings only. But this gives a tiara to the future Empress of the Emperor.

Slowly, the beautiful tiara landed on your head. You were even more shocked when your head was wearing such a beautiful Tiara. This was the first time you had worn a tiara. And it was also a historic tiara. Donghyun took your hand too, he put a diamond ring on your ring finger, and kissed it.

"My future empress, welcome to the empty space of my heart," Donghyun whispered softly in your ear, then gave a quick kiss on your cheek.

___

"You! You damn bitch!"

"MOTHER!" Wonyoung immediately blocked you from her mother's anger, she glared at her own mother. "Don't be crazy, Y/N is now under the protection of the empire. If she gets even the slightest scratch, Emperor Donghyun could kill us right now," You shed your tears in Wonyoung's arms, your older sister held you tightly so that you would not be reached by her mother's anger.

"Emperor Donghyun wouldn't know if she didn't tell him! Besides, aren't you mad, Wonyoung?! This girl took away your golden opportunity!" Wonyoung smiled bitterly, she was so sick of this damn poisonous ambition. "I'll tell him if you dare to hurt her, mother!"

"Jang Wonyoung! How dare you threaten your mother?!"

"Shut up you old man! This time I won't let you ruin my sister's golden opportunity! I won't keep quiet any longer if you keep forcing me to follow your bastard ambitions! I will not stand by any longer as you try to destroy what my sister has achieved. Remember your status here, in a matter of months you will be the ones bowing down to her," Mr. Jang couldn't believe it, his eldest daughter, whom he had prepared for this position, actually didn't want to and chose to support you, who he felt had no right to a high position.

___

Emperor Donghyun stared in horror at a news article online in the morning. He had just woken up and was already presented with news like this, news that made his blood boil at six in the morning.

Head of Jang Family Beats His Youngest Daughter in Public

Just reading the news headline was enough to make Donghyun furious. He immediately read the contents of the article which had just been published less than five minutes ago.

Paparazzi cameras caught Mr. Jang hitting his daughter after they both just came out of the supermarket. The witness said the reason Mr. Jang hit his daughter was because they had had a sharp and fierce argument.

Miss Jang Y/N is the future wife of Emperor Donghyun, they will be married in a few months. The government and Imperial Security have not commented on this matter. The Empire's legal team has also not commented on this matter. The violence that the future Empress received should not be tolerated. Moreover, Miss Jang Y/N is already under the Imperial security, and the Empire has full responsibility for her security.

Mr Jang could be in trouble because he not only hit his daughter, but hit a future Empress who is fully protected by the Empire.

Donghyun squeezed the iPad in his hand tightly, he clicked on a video showing his future father-in-law's antics. In the video, he could clearly see, Mr. Jang hit you and pushed you down onto the asphalt. He also saw clearly how your body was forced to get up and then roughly pulled to get into the car.

Donghyun got up from his sitting position and opened his room door roughly. Never mind that he would make a mess in the morning. The crazy news was enough to make him furious, he might as well make a mess now.

"Mr. Hwangbo! Mr. Hwangbo! come before me right now!" Donghyun's thunderous scream could wake anyone up from their sleep. Just imagine, the condition of the palace which was still quiet because it was still morning suddenly became noisy because of the young Emperor's scream.

Mr Hwangbo, the head of the Imperial Family's Security, came before Donghyun in a hurry. He wasn't even wearing his full attire yet. The Empress Mother also came with a shocked face, she was still wearing her nightgown.

"Donghyun, what's wrong, son? Why are you screaming so early in the morning?" Empress Mother asked worriedly about her son. Moreover, seeing his face flushed red with anger, Empress Mother knew that her son was furious.

The young emperor raised his iPad screen to his mother. Playing the video he had just watched. "Look at this jerk's behavior," Empress Mother frowned, she moved her face closer to the video.

Her eyes widened in shock when he saw who was hurt in the video. His future daughter-in-law. Empress Mother stared at her son in horror. "M-Mr. Jang? Did I just see him hit his daughter?"

"Yes, you saw right, Mother," Donghyun said then put his iPad on a nearby bedside table, now it was his turn to look at Mr. Hwangbo. "Bring Mr. Jang before me, bring him to my office in less than half an hour," Donghyun immediately left the people gathered in the hall, and his orders were of course immediately carried out by Mr. Hwangbo.

___

Wonyoung stared anxiously at the door of Donghyun's office. It was clear that her father had been taken somewhat forcibly to the Government Palace because of his actions last night. His action of hitting his own daughter.

If Donghyun's work room wasn't soundproof, it was certain that his shouts and harsh shouts could be heard from his mouth. Wonyoung knew very well, Donghyun and your relationship was slowly starting to get very close, and you were also slowly starting to have feelings of love for him. Donghyun is so protective of you from any harm or pain. His protection for you is quite tight even though you are still his fiancée.

But how could you go out with him last night without any protection. And that also triggered Donghyun's anger when he found out that you went out without the standard protection of the Empire that night.And rest assured, it must be because of your father.

The door swung open, revealing Donghyun with a messed up appearance, his face still as angry. He looked at Wonyoung and his mother alternately. Behind him, Mr. Jang seemed to be experiencing severe trauma. His face was shocked, probably after being shouted at harshly and repeatedly by Donghyun.

"Bring my Y/N here! I want my girl in this palace right now!"

___

The door to the throne room opened as the butler opened the large door. You can clearly see your future husband sitting on the throne with a somewhat chaotic appearance. He hadn't even changed out of his pajamas into his regular clothes.

Donghyun signaled his palace butler to leave you and him alone without being disturbed. The door closed behind you. And now you and he were alone in the magnificent throne room.

"Majesty," You curtsey respectfully to him, the usual thing you do when you meet him. You understand very well, you are still his fiancée, not his wife. So, your status is still in a different position.

"Come here," You approached him, walking up the stairs which led directly to the throne chair where he was sitting. When you were in front of him, he kissed your hand softly. Looking at you with worried eyes. "Why didn't you tell me last night?" He asked, his eyes looking a little tired. It was understandable, his morning had been a mess and quite draining.

"I just don't want to make things worse. I'm fine anyway," You said in a calm tone. He slowly pulled you to sit on his lap, he shook his head. "But it's all gone bad. Your father broke the 'rules' by being rude to my future wife. You know, even though you are his daughter, he should be aware that soon you will not only be his daughter, but his empress as well. He should respect that important position, not hurt you," You cupped his face, placing soothing strokes on his jaw and cheeks.

"Don't worry too much, the most important thing is that I'm fine now. I know, you won't silent if I'm oppressed by someone," You kissed his lips briefly, intending to give him deeper peace.

But instead, he pulled your head and immediately captured your lips with his. His right hand gently pressed the back of your head to deepen the kiss. Your tongues clashed, he was so good at making out and clashing tongues like this. Your fingers roamed his neck. You also pressed the back of his neck to deepen your kiss, occasionally squeezing his long hair gently.

Starting to be enveloped in burning lust, your hands unbutton the top three buttons of his pajamas to touch and feel his chest. Donghyun felt himself getting aroused and felt a heat spreading throughout his body.

You feel that there is a bulge rubbing against your pussy which is still covered by panties. You broke the kiss and immediately attacked the young emperor's neck with your wet lips that were still covered in thick lipstick. You're both horny and both want more.

Donghyun growled as your lips and tongue played hotly around his neck area. Not only that, your hands also played on his chest. And that made him even more insane. You went back up to his lips, giving him a kiss that this time was not full of love, but of passionate lust.

"Damn, I want you, your pussy, everything about you but we're not married yet," Donghyun gasped as you broke the kiss again. You were burning with lust, but instead you said something that instantly made Donghyun forget his status. "To hell with not being married, we're getting married soon. It doesn't matter if you use me now," Hearing that, of course Donghyun was shocked. He didn't seem to see you who were always calm and looked dignified. But, because of this crazy lust, anyone will forget what their real status is.

"Take off your clothes," Donghyun said in a trembling voice. And without hesitation, you immediately did what he wanted. In less than a minute you were completely naked in front of him.

Donghyun was like seeing an angel in typical European paintings. And now, he was like seeing someone coming out of a painting.

___

"G-Gonna cum," You whimpered as you felt your orgasm, who knows how many, about to hit you. You and Donghyun had been making love in the throne room for almost an hour in different positions. Your pussy is already filled with his cum which he has spurted several times. He never let his cum out from your pussy

And this time, you and him are on the sofa in his throne room, doing doggy style. The most enjoyable position you have experienced with him. "Yeah, cum. Do it one more time for me," His long fingers reached your clit and made circular movements, making you cum so hard that it wet your thighs and the sofa where you were making love.

Not long after, Donghyun also cums again and spurts his fluids very much. Making your fluids mix together again. You both gasped, he slowly pulled out his cock. You clenched around nothing and made his cum drip from your pussy. Making Donghyun smile in satisfaction, he slapped your ass.

"You turned out to be a great stress reliever for me. I love you so much and I was not wrong to choose you," The young emperor slapped your ass again and then gave a quick kiss on the red mark from his 'sexy' slap.

After this, he would move the wedding date forward. He couldn't stand it any longer, the girl he had chosen was so perfect.