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gyuswhore · 7 months ago

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Never Shall We Die (3; final)

«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »»

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool? The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows. Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.

GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final] : 15.8k

@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman

masterlist

WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tags: hoshi loves thighs, corruption kink to the mAX, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), breast play, p in v sex (unprotected, 1800s contraception will make you prefer it but pls dont do this irl), making out

[AN]: final part oh my god if youve read the other parts up till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it, im really proud of this fic and im so happy so many of you have enjoyed it so far. @highvern betaing as always ty for not giving up on me. AS ALWAYS, PLS TELL ME YOUR THOTS IN THE RBS OR THE REPLIES OR SEND ME AN ASK LITERALLY WTV MUAH MUAH HAPPY READING <3

THIS IS THE NICEST PRISON Hoshi has ever been in, which was saying something, because he had been in quite a lot of prisons.

But it was uncomfortable nonetheless, six grown men tied up and shoved into a crouching space to be done with as the men that prowled above pleased.

Hoshi would be lying if he said he hadn’t had to restrain from pushing some of those sorry soldiers into the ice waters beyond the glaciers. He had resisted, the crew had resisted, but just enough to convince them of their unwillingness.

Hoshi had realised early on that there was no possible way of getting aboard Tigress without somehow climbing aboard the King’s boat first. The king wasn’t about to simply hand Hoshi’s ship over, and there was no indication that they'd wait till after nightfall to depart.

Hoshi also knew that the King would refuse to have him die so easily in the waters of the Green Islands, his pride depended on it. He imagines the man drawing up the specifics of the most gruesome execution the Kingdom would ever see. Hoshi was counting on it.

The bounds could’ve been broken out of and the locks somehow picked, but Hoshi also knew that he had to wait. Wait for you to find him first.

“What’s taking her so long?” Jun asks. He’d been the most anxious out of all, the shaking feet and restless moving making it clear.

“The bomb won’t…go off still strapped to her, will it?” Minghao asks and Hoshi isn’t quite sure he wants to know the answer.

“It shouldn’t. Not until she pulls the tab. But…”

“But?” Hoshi whips around. “Why is there a but? You were supposed to make sure there was no but!”

“Big bomb, more boom, less predictable!”

“Are you sure we can’t break out and look for her ourselves?” Mingyu grumbles, the most compromised with his longer limbs folded in uncomfortable positions.

“The minute they know we’re loose they’ll swarm her. There won’t be a way to get to her, not without fighting off every last bastard on this ship. They’ve taken our stuff too, we don’t stand a chance.”

They did, actually, stand a chance. But that was only if they were to break away and head straight for Tigress that was empty and standing right beside this very ship. But they couldn’t. Hoshi couldn’t. Not without taking you with him.

Nobody dares to suggest the easier route, and he doubts it’s just because of what he wants.

But panic was beginning to trickle into Hoshi’s veins anyway, the closed off brig refusing to give him any indication of the time of day.

The sun was only beginning to set when they were taken to the ship, and he knew they were near done for if they didn’t finish what they started before nightfall. He can’t tell how long it’s been, and it eats away at his insides.

Please be okay.

And then he hears it, the sound of a body hitting the floors with a loud thud, a chortle of air before it’s knocked out. He finds himself sitting up straighter, pressing his hands to bars of the prison, trying to peer out the narrow walkway that leads to the doors.

And then you appear in the lamplight, haphazard and ruffled up beyond measure.

The knife in your hand drips with blood, your shirt torn at the arms, your hands bloodied and bruised.

When Hoshi sees your face he almost doesn’t recognise you.

There’s angry blooming marks of red and purple all across your neck and collarbone, your eyes bloodshot and red, watering like you’d been swimming in salt water.

“Who did this?” he asks before anything else, watching you drop to your knees in front of the prison, unanswering as you fumbled with a giant ring of keys in your hand.

You jam each key into the lock, twisting it to no avail. Your hands are shaking.

The crew finally twist out of their loose bonds, Minghao lurching forward immediately, swatting your hands away. He picks out a few skinny pins from his boot, picking the rusty lock. Despite the strange angle, the bars creak open within seconds.

“There’s…There’s ropes hooked onto the ship on the main deck.”

Your voice sounds like you’re speaking through sandpaper, talking while struggling to emerge with the bomb you had.

Hoshi doesn’t know what to do when he crawls out of the space.

He’d had it all figured out in his head, what would happen in every possible outcome. You getting hurt wasn’t in any of his universal conclusions; especially not on this ship. They’d kill his crew, they might even kill the King with themselves, but you were meant to remain unscathed.

“Why–why do you look like that? What happened?” Nothing registers in his head, not even when Jun is pushing him out into the hall.

“Get up to the deck and get out across the lines!” Jun gruffs in his ears. “That bomb’s gonna go off with us still on here.”

He sees the canister that lies in the same prison they had just exited, he sees your mouth moving without sound. All he can think of are the distinct fingerprints around your throat and how it looked like somebody tried to kill you before they tried to kill him.

“Soonyoung,” he hears you say in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for him to snap out of it.

His crew is looking at him expectantly. He looks back at the door and sees the crumpled bodies of the prison guards.

So much for leaving quietly.

The minute Hoshi is out the door of the brig, he finds a chest next to the collapsed, bleeding soldiers. Kicking it open, he can only scoff as he finds the entire crew’s weapons in such close vicinity.

He feels better with his dagger at his hip, along with the rest of his knives that he slips into the loops. Even more so with the rest of his crew armed and ready.

“We know where the deck is.” He swallows, eyeing his crew’s weapons in their ready hands. He knew they’d agreed to ensure the clean sinking of the ship, but the fallen bodies on the floor were an ode to a different route they’d have to take. “Don’t hesitate if someone gets in your way.”

Taking cautious steps to the upper decks, he finds more bodies collapsed onto the floor, bleeding and unconscious. He opts to ask you the details later, wondering how you were able to take down all these guards by yourself.

It isn’t until they reach the stairs that lead to the main deck that he comes across a guard.

Before the witness can raise any alarm, Hoshi’s slamming the butt of his dagger into the side of his head, knocking him clean unconscious as he falls off the side of the short railing.

Clambering up the steps as quietly as possible, he raises a hand behind him to signal his crew to halt, peering into the main deck first.

The sun is still out, but low in the sky as it dips in the sky. There’s a few people on the deck, pacing and moving about in preparation for departure. Angling his gaze, he finds ropes suspended over the edge of the railing, parallel to the water.

He can’t see Tigress, but he knows that’s what the ropes are hooked on to.

“Jun,” he beckons. “How long till the bomb on the other ship goes off?”

The bomb Jun had planted in the first ship they had arrived in should be going off any time now, and Hoshi finds himself needing it to go off now.

Jun barely opened his mouth to reply when the ship shuddered.

For a moment, Hoshi thinks the bomb in the brigs had gone off, but when he finds the clambering of boots to one side of the ship, opposite to where the ropes tied to Tigress, he realises their surrogate ship had given its last gift to the crew.

The rest of the ship would be bounding to the main deck to inspect the noise soon, so he shoots a quick, “Hurry!” behind him before stepping onto the main deck.

The entire deck is occupied with the ship that lies a ways away across the expanse of sea, the beginnings that would soon lead the entire ship to be engulfed in flames. It’s tilting at a dangerous angle.

Hoshi stands as he uses the crew straight towards the ropes that lead to Tigress. Glancing, he finds Mingyu and Chan already hanging on the suspended ropes, making their way towards the empty deck of their ship.

Hoshi keeps his eyes on the occupied men on board, still staring at the lightshow that was their old ship. It isn’t until one of them turns, eyes towards the stairs that lead to the lower decks, that his eyes dart to the unfamiliar men on the deck.

“Fuck,” Hoshi curses, before lunging, grabbing the man by the shoulders and covering his mouth, dragging him wordlessly to the edge before throwing him off the ship and into the icy waters below.

“Go!” he hears you rasp brom behind him, ushering him to the ropes.

The crew is gone, Jun making the last jump to land on the deck. They’re running around, pulling ropes and fastening the sails to push the ship off into open waters as soon as possible.

There’s two ropes that tie the two ships together, and Hoshi ushers you onto one of them, pushing you to suspend yourself before he follows.

“There’s not enough time, go to the other one!” you tell him, pushing him to hold onto the other tattered rope.

Soonyoung eyes your state, “Are you sure you can—”

“Yes! I promise I can, please, before they cut both the ropes.”

So he trusts you, eyes straight ahead to the railing of his ship, gripping the rough, frayed rope to push himself towards the deck. His hands burn, but he finds himself moving ever closer to his final destination.

His hand grabs hold of the wooden railing of his Tigress at long last, pulling himself onto the deck of his beloved ship. Immediately whipping his head to his right, he tries to find you reaching the ship with him. The crew is preoccupied in attempting to get the ship ready for departure, he finds your form nowhere.

When he looks back, the rope he had climbed was gone, leaving gaping space in its absence. He trails the second rope, from the hook that had dug into the railing of Tigress’s wood, trailing it to the naval ship’s deck.

What he sees puts his heart in his throat.

You stand on the deck of your father’s ship, swarmed by now alert guards and soldiers who swarm you, yelling profanities and orders as they watch their prisoners get away right in front of them.

Hoshi watches as you lift your dagger, and cut the last rope that ties you together, free to fall and hit against the hull of his ship.

He calls out your name in what could only be described as a guttural scream.

His crew halts whatever it was they were doing, taking the steps to realise what had just happened.

Hoshi’s boot meets the top of the railing, ready to take the plunge into the water. He’d climb back up the ship and get you out. He doesn’t know what you were thinking, what he was thinking when he left you there, but he’d get you out.

Arms pulling him, he’s yanked back and positively thrown onto the deck.

“What is wrong with you?” Minghao yells, pushing his captain back as he springs up.

“She—”

Your father emerges from the crowd of guards and soldiers that run rampant on the deck, approaching you at the railing of the main deck.

Hoshi sees the hand that remains on his shoulder, the blood that covers the still bleeding wound, the effort it takes him to simply walk.

The bruises on your neck, the wound at his shoulder that looks like it was slashed through by a knife.

And then it clicks in Hoshi’s head, what had truly happened in the hours that you were out of his sight. And all he sees is red.

WITH THE WAY THE words on the pages seem to double, you would’ve thought you were going mad.

You’re a child, barely grown into your own body as you sit in the dimly lit library of the palace, utterly exhausted, wishing to be anywhere but sitting at the wooden desk with your name on it. The moon barely shone through the window, your only source of light the fireplace that burned in the corner and your lamplight.

It was a time where you felt like you could prove yourself, that perhaps, the reason your father refused you his approval was because you were simply not working hard enough. And now, at an hour where you should be fast asleep in your four poster bed, you attempt to understand diplomatic structures and everything that made your country what it was.

It was late, and there was nothing you would’ve liked more than to put your head on the table and rest your eyes for a few tantalising seconds, which you do, right over the book you were reading.

You awoke in the same place, shaken awake by a panicked looking servant, the sun shining through the great windows of the palace library.

It seems your disappearance from your bedchambers had put the entire palace in disarray, not realising the princess was fast asleep behind the giant pile of books other servants had already skimmed past thrice.

Not only were you unable to recite the rankings of the constitutions with the vigour your father required, but you were unable to give him a reason as to why you were absent for both breakfast and morning lessons.

He made the servants kneel in the throne room for hours, and did not fail to tell you that it was all your fault.

And now, in the ice cold of the Green Islands, old and wise enough to know that your father simply needed a reason to despise his heir, you accept the hands around your throat as his final act of terror.

Red faced and arms shaking, your father does not speak to you as he presses down on your windpipe with all his might. Your vision is going dark and splotchy, and you decide, for a moment, to let him have this moment.

He’s too preoccupied in applying his pressure to realise that you’ve raised your right foot enough for your hands to fish out your knife from its place, taking positivity in the handle of your knife that fits in your hand.

Before you can lose consciousness, you raise your arm high, and plunge it directly into his neck.

Howling, he releases you from his hold, both of you dropping to the floor of the ship with a resonating thud. You cough, sputter and hack, cold hands finding your now warm neck.

Your father lays clutching his shoulder as he remains in agony on the floor, and you realise you missed the crucial plunge in your own disarray.

It was good enough, rendering the old man incapable of finding his bearings.

You watch as he writhes on the floor of the quarters that almost became your figurative deathbed, the same hands that wrapped around his own daughter’s throat now clutching the shallow wound that renders him useless.

Standing over him, throwing your own shadow on his body, you feel a surge of power, a rush of adrenaline that shoots straight to your head. Perhaps this was your circulation returning from the deprivation, but you let the feeling imprint in your soul, let your father’s broken figure bring you satisfaction.

You leave him there, writhing in pain, digging your knife under the lock of the quarters, pulling back to break it away from the door. The guards stationed outside do nothing as you leave, and it isn’t until you’ve taken to lower decks that you hear the distinct yell of, “Your Majesty!”

Two more guards, who don’t expect an altercation from their princess, simply buffer as you send your knife plunging into them both. You do it deep this time.

Nobody was innocent, you knew these people as your father’s closest men, and knew that all of them were to remain silent as their King murdered his daughter. And when the remorse doesn’t do that thing where it trickles in after doing a bad thing, you decide you weren’t part of the innocents either.

It’s easier than you would’ve expected to get to the crew in the brig, letting out a sigh of relief as you appreciate the familiarity of people on your side.

And when Hoshi took his place to guide everyone out and into the open space of the main deck, you let your racing mind rest and decide to trust the man in whatever decision he made to lead you all out. And he did, he led himself and his crew right into the ship that was theirs, safe and where they would have the upper hand.

Hoshi didn’t know it when he climbed onto the ropes that lead to his boat that he wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t stayed, hadn’t used your voice of authority to keep the soldiers from attempting to shoot at the escapees, cut the rope while Hoshi remained suspended from it, still only halfway there.

You didn’t look at him when you sliced both ropes before either party could pull back, didn’t register him screaming your name across the void, pretending it wasn’t taking everything out of your strength.

But you couldn’t jump into the water, not now when a dozen of the royal guards remained ready to take the plunge to save their princess as their duty. The same guards that would comply with their king when told the princess was dead for reasons they all knew but were to forget.

The bomb had to go off first, and you had to keep them away from hooking another line to the ship in the meantime. You were operating on a flawed plan and an overenthusiastic crowd of guards that were moments away from shooting a canon straight into the side of the disconnected pirate ship.

The distraction comes in the form of your father parting the crowd of soldiers like the red sea, swatting every soldier that attempts to help his bleeding form for anything it was worth. He approaches you at the railing, and for once, you don’t look at the ground in his presence.

“Bold,” he heaves, the effort in his voice apparent. “Bold of you to think you could slip away.”

“I haven’t tried to slip away, father,” you correct. “I’ve stayed right here, even after you failed to kill me. And I, you.”

“Nobody is going to listen to you, child. Give in. This is the easy way out,” he says.

As if on cue, Jun’s bomb goes off for the second time, but this time the ship shudders with more force. It has your father unbalance and fall, along with multiple other soldier’s stumbling. You grip the railing tight, counting on your father’s need to live.

Despite your horrid throat and the ache in your body, you announce as loud as you can. “The bomb is in the brig, this ship is sinking.”

The fallen king trembles in a rage you had never quite seen before. Any other time of your life, you would’ve wished for the ground to swallow you whole to be the subject of such anger.

Except, in the setting sun, a burning ship in the background, a pirate ship that awaits you, and the ground beneath your feet that was actively sinking into the freezing water; you smile at your doomed King.

“Get to the brig! Secure the lower decks, do not let this ship sink or so help me God!” His voice rings across the deck, spittle blowing from his mouth at the situation.

And just like that, your father gives you the final gift of clearing the main deck out for you, leaving but a few straggling soldiers that are too preoccupied with either the sinking ship or their bleeding sovereign.

Looking back, you find the crew of Tigress standing at the railing, you find Hoshi already half over the edge and send him a slow nod.

Turning back to your father that remains on the floor of the ship that would become his coffin, you utter your next words; for yourself, and the girl that was every second before this, all the way to her first ever memory of sad:

“You’ve taught me to be a ruler fit to be the best for our Kingdom. Consider your death my first act of service for the Crown.”

And then you jumped into the darkening void of the waters below.

THE COLD FEELS LIKE every nerve in your body ceased to work.

It was nothing at first, the temperature so intense it had your body numb in the face of shock. And then it grew, to a striking cold, and then a feeling that pricked every inch of your skin like a million needles plunging into your body. It was only getting worse with each passing second, before it was so painful it was hot, going from cold to searing and blistering like you’d plunged into the licks of flames.

Nowhere in your body did you find a rational sense of mind, something to tell you to kick, flail or float. The warped sky was an orange through the green, only more vibrant. Like there were two ships actively burning on the surface of this water.

Hoshi’s face appears behind your closing eyelids, like a mirage or a taunt. Like he was there with you when he wasn’t.

Would he come for you? Would he take the plunge for the girl he held in his arms, promising her something to fill the gap of a companion, right before she killed her own?

You’d given him what he wanted; your father, his worst enemy, dying as he sank slowly into the bottom of the ocean. You’d run your course of use, and if he was as smart as people claimed, he’d leave you to suffer the same fate as your father.

He could find his freedom elsewhere.

And you would find your freedom in the close of your eyes, and the sinking feeling of nothingness.

Except, you feel a hardness against your body, stronger even than the current of the waters. Moving impossibly upwards, you remember opening your eyes to find a leather cord suspended in the float of the water, before you remember nothing.

THE GREEN ISLANDS WERE on fire.

But as unnatural as it seemed, Hoshi had no inclination to register anything but the way the ship in front of him tilts so far out it's already half submerged in the waters. He’d assumed they might have to ready the cannons, but with the way debris and hollowed wood floats in the waters below, they would not need to.

The King was about to be introduced to Davy Jones’ Locker at the hands of his enemy and successor, but Hoshi could not care enough right now to relish in it.

Right now, he stares at the direct circumference of water your body had made contact with and disappeared into, like the world would explode if he lost his place.

“Should I jump as well?” Mingyu asks, already half taking his boots off. However, when the man turns to find his captain gone, he lurches over the railing to find his captain diving into the water through all the debris.

Hoshi lets the momentum of his dive take him as further down as possible, whipping his head around as soon as his eyes open into the abyss. The water ripples and erupts in showers of bubbles as broken pieces of ship come apart to fall into the water. It blurs his vision immensely, any ripple that could be you in the water coming out to be yet another piece of wasted wood.

The deeper he goes, the more the water presses into his ears. He was a good swimmer, good at holding his breath when needed, but even he had limits.

When he cannot see any sign of you, he begins to feel the churning of something skin to panic brew. Panic was never good, not this deep in the water.

Twisting and turning, flailing about in place, moving dangerously closer to the burning ship that continued to drop flaming bits of killing slabs, he finds no sign of you in the water.

Instead, he watches men in uniform sink deeper and deeper in their failed attempts to stay afloat.

All he can think about is if they were losing the battle for air, then so were you, somewhere deeper in the void than he was. He prays that he’s looking aimlessly, that you’ve already somehow made your way to the surface by yourself, and you were safe on the deck.

The beaded bracelet that remained on his wrist, but belonged to you.

“A reason for you to come out of this alive.”

Even without the encasing on his wrist, you had given him more than enough reason to want to come out of this alive, to want to live beyond just for himself and his duty to the crew he’d taken in.

He chose the life of a pirate because it was his only out, and every member of his crew that he recruited in succession, he acted as the hand he had needed so desperately in that awful brothel where his mother despised him and his father, a faceless man of Port Ash.

Amphitrite was not kind, it was a lesson he learned quickly in his first ventures out at sea. So he too, had to learn to be unkind, to survive in the horrid bellies of ships that weren’t his own. And when Tigress came into his life like a vessel of hope, he found a home in her merciful wood, in the ship that he could call his very own.

Hoshi lived as a free man on his ship, with his crew that had become his brothers in ways beyond what the thick of blood could offer. He did not care if he lived or died after that, as long as it was on his ship, in the waters that held no quarter for anyone, but gave him everything that nothing else could give him.

And so when you approached him with a proposal so bizarre yet so apt for a man like him, he could not refuse. It may have been the way he saw himself in you, terrified of the prospects but thirsting for an escape more than the fear that came with it.

Besides, the king was a nuisance that needed to go, and he found himself agreeing to play the hand too complicated for you.

What he did not expect was to end up here, in the depths of the ocean in the most uninhabitable part of the earth, trying to pull you out of the cold, unrelenting sea.

Hoshi realises in that moment that this might ruin him, the possibility of breaking the surface without you.

He decides that if the heavens do not let him find you, he would simply drown in the same waters that gave him purpose, and find peace with the idea that he would lay rest in the same waters as the person who might have given him something more.

Kwon Soonyoung, the deadliest pirate to cleave the seas, was in love with you. A princess, so undeserving of a man like him; a bastard, a rogue, a good for nothing criminal.

And when he spots the all too familiar build of your form, the linen shirt under the corset he had tied for you just hours ago, the dark brown trousers that signified the change he’d brought into your life, he swore to leave everything he’d ever known to thank the skies and seas for bringing him to you.

His burning lungs, screaming and searing for air, grabbing for your suspended arm that looked as defeated as your closed eyes. Tugging you towards him, he wraps his arm around you to press you to him as tight as he could.

Relief. And with the warm sting in his eyes that he doubted was from the salt in the water, he’s sure of everything he’s felt with the feeling of you in his arms.

With the bruising on your neck, the bleeding wound in your father’s shoulder, he finds it within his breaking body to begin kicking upwards.

Every limb, every cell, every hint of life in his body shrieked with its efforts to make him stop. There was no air in his lungs and he’d lost track of time in his search for you, he doesn’t know how long he has.

But if the blots of nothingness in his eyes were anything to go with, he doesn’t presume he has much. In a last ditch effort, he attempts to kick his boots off to weigh him down a little less, holding your dead weight tighter than anything.

He was so close, he could feel the warmth of the upper levels of the water change in its temperature on his skin. The glow was near blinding as the orange refracted on the disrupted surface of the ocean, so close yet so far.

Inch by inch, kick by kick, memory by memory, he does everything left in his drained power to touch the surface.

And he does, breaking out hand first into the burning air of the world above, taking the longest gasp of air he ever has in his life. Once he’s sure he knows where he is, he pushes you up further on his chest, your head resting against his collarbone, still unconscious.

“Stay with me, princess,” he pants into your ear, hoping you could hear. “I’ve got you.”

Chan and Mingyu are in the water beside him, pushing him towards the pulley that awaited them.

Mingyu makes an attempt to take your weight of his already struggling captain, but Hoshi finds himself holding on to you tighter, simply urging him to help him back on the deck.

The minute your head hits the wood of the deck, he’s checking your pulse. There’s no regard for the chaos that ensues around Tigress, both him and his crew too preoccupied with the way you were not breathing.

“I–I can’t feel anything,” he stutters his words as Seungkwan places a less panicked hand at your neck, under your nose.

“It’s weak, she’s taken in too much water.”

In an instant, he reaches for his knife at his hip, only to realise it was gone, lost somewhere in his rescue.

“Knife,” he rasps before repeating louder. “Someone give me a knife!”

The minute a hilt is in his hands, he’s pushing you over, to reach the back of your constricting corset, pushing his knife into the complicated sailing knot he’d tied it into before, breaking it free. With both hands, he takes hold of the top of the corset and rips it clean in half.

Turning you back over, he presses his hands over your clothed stomach, pushing into it with all his strength in an attempt to get the water out of your system. He keeps his eyes on your face, and when he sees no sign of you coming round, he feels another set of hands pushing him off.

Seungkwan takes over for his weakened captain, pushing into your stomach harder, attempting to get a break out of you.

“Why isn’t she coming around, what’s going on?” He throws the question aimlessly as he takes your unmoving face in his hands, trembling from everything.

Only a moment later, he hears the glorious sound of you sputtering like something was stuck in your throat, promptly spilling out an ungodly amount of water onto the deck as you retch loudly.

Sitting up from the force, your hands clamp onto the deck as you cough and heave, Hoshi’s hand coming behind you to thump your back hard, pushing you to throw up any remaining seawater from your body.

The sight of your back moving up and down, the audible sound of you taking in air; it was enough for Hoshi to simply lay on the deck and pass out.

You rear your head and look up at him, both of you still breathing heavily.

“You’re okay,” he assures, gulping. He takes your face in hands cupping it very gently as he speaks to you. “Go with Seungkwan, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

Nodding, you let yourself be helped up by the rest of the crew, watching as you’re led to the lower decks of the ship.

“Open your shirt, let me see the wound,” Mingyu says, and Hoshi doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Looking down, he sees his shirt soaked in red, sticking to a wound on the right side of his torso. He didn’t even know where he got it.

It looks like a shallow gash, but enough to leave a scar. He takes it better to have it tended to while he was still high on adrenaline and he couldn’t feel much of the pain.

By the time Mingyu and Minghao are done cleaning him up and Hoshi’s standing upright with wobbly legs, he finds the two burning ships beyond his own mere floating structures of wood that were in slow flame. There’s too much debris, too many bits of everything that bob in the large expanse of water to make out any bodies.

“There’s nobody,” Mingyu tells him. “Most of them were in lower decks when it all went down. Trapped themselves.”

“And…?” he asks in silence.

“He stayed on the deck until it sank,” Minghao informs. “Yelling about how he…about how he should’ve finished her when he had the chance.”

“Horrible king and somehow an even worse father,” Mingyu scoffs. “Made it better to watch him die.”

“He didn’t suffer enough,” Hoshi croaks as the marks on your throat dot his vision.

Just then, floating in the water, illuminated by the final streaks of setting light, Hoshi sees it. A darkened purple cloth right next to the hull.

“That,” he points out. “Get that out of the water.”

The late king’s purple cape laid on the deck of Tigress, darkened with water, but also with his blood.

To the Kingdom, this cape would be the last piece of their King that was gone too soon. But for every person on this ship, it would forever be their spoils of war.

Hoshi makes sure the cape will be dried and stored, ordering his crew to begin their slow journey out of the Green Islands, before he too crumples onto the deck unconscious.

IT WAS A SPECTACLE to see Hoshi in his element.

Something about how he seemed to beam, like this ship was charging him a different kind of energy. It was infectious, the rest of the ship decreasingly sour as they put on musical performances on the main deck while they cleaned the floors.

As relieved as you felt, the tight ball of anxiety refused to leave the pit of your stomach as you grew closer to the Kingdom. Nothing could prepare you for the shitstorm you’d have to deal with the moment you’d step onto the soil off a pirate ship of all things—let alone as Queen.

The first few days following the ship's exit from the Green Islands were difficult, if that was all you had to describe it. You took to your hammock for most of the day, curled up as you pretended to sleep, only waking up when one of the crew would come down to force feed you and to make sure you hadn’t died.

You knew they were doing all this to make you feel better, and somehow it was working. More than halfway through your journey, you began to feel more like yourself, emerging from your cave to visit the deck on times other than the nights.

Even now, as you sit on the floor of the deck with Seungkwan, who hands you an all too familiar stack of parchment, you feel nothing as you take them into your hands. As you read his handwriting scrawled in ink, you appreciate your past self for having the sense to keep them all.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” he says to you. “Had us worried for a while there.”

“Sorry.” You smile weakly. “But thank you for…everything. I don’t think I could ever express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. All of you.”

“I’d like to think we’ve gone past the status of mere business partners,” Seungkwan chuckles. “Lion befriends the bear? Whatever it is. But know we’d do it again.”

Blinking back the sting of tears and doing your very best to not let the warm feeling in your chest overwhelm you, you place the letters on the floor next to your folded legs. When you look up, Seungkwan's eyes are on your neck.

“They’re taking their time to fade, aren’t they?” you say.

Seungkwan has a hard look in his eye, “I guess you didn’t need your letters to remind you of anything after all.”

Your mind wanders, drifting past how easily this crew could have been forgotten in the unforgiving elements. Perhaps you would have let the man that wrapped his hands around your neck finish his job.

“Was getting captured part of your grand plan?” you ask Seungkwan.

“Hm?” It takes a moment to realise what you may be questioning him about, smiling slightly. “What makes you think we went in with a plan?”

“I thought I asked you to man the wheel?” Hoshi stands above the both of you.

“Not to batten down the hatches,” he side-eyed his captain. “Clear waters ahead, the wheel does not need manning.”

You zone out as they squabble over nothing, not finding the heart to be entertained by their back and forth. Seungkwan either loses or forfeits, because you feel him rise from next to you, only for his captain to take his place.

“What are you thinking about?” Hoshi asks.

“Everything,” you sigh.

“How come Seungkwan gets a thank you for your service and I don’t? Need I remind you who jumped for you and who didn’t?”

Rolling your eyes, you answer him, “Thank you, Captain Hoshi Kwon, I am forever indebted to your service.”

He chuckles in exaggeration, “Oh please, all in a day's work.”

“I mean it.”

“Hm?”

“I never did say thank you. But you did jump for me when you didn’t have to.”

“Who said I didn’t have to?”

“Our deal was done.”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Our deal was to get you out when you jumped. I merely honoured that promise!”

“Merely?” you raise a brow. “Was it all merely a matter of conscience?”

His gaze locks with yours. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers for. I would’ve jumped even if you asked me to rope myself to the mast.”

“Please. I have enough blood on my hands and I haven’t even sat on my throne yet.”

“Blood is only on your hands if you tell a soul of what you’ve done,” Hoshi utters. “You’re the only living soul who knows.”

“And you are…?”

“Pirate. Our word means nothing.” Hoshi smiles.

The thought hangs in the air as you take in the man in front of you. He’s changed an era’s worth, yet all the same. His hair is longer, going from his initial shorter crop to curling around his ears, shielding his eyes. It makes him look younger, like a boy with much to live for.

That, and the multitude of notable scars he’s added to his collection, many of which have somehow been because of you. The wound at his torso is doing better, but far to go in its quest to heal.

Hoshi senses something amiss even after his sermon. Breaking his gaze, he turns to look straight ahead at the raised bow of the ship instead.

“Do you know how I got my splendid reputation for being the filthiest pirate on the seas?”

You can only stare, “I have a few guesses.”

He chortles, “Other than my criminal status.”

“Tell me.”

“Unnamed sailors have the odds of a peanut facing its inevitable fate of being crushed under a straggling boot. Pirates don’t see the government as their enemy when they’re own supposed brothers are more likely to jam a cannon in their mouths.”

He lets out a heavy sigh before continuing, “My mistake wasn’t that I was on the losing side in my early days, but more about how I was leaving nothing behind when I was done.”

“How humble,” you hum.

“Dead men tell no tales. When it’s worth it, it might be better to leave a straggler or two to live to tell the tale. A routine stab in the jugular can turn you into somewhat of a myth.”

“Am I a survivor?” you question.

“You may be sovereign on land, but you’re also an unnamed pirate,” he responds, turning back to lock eyes with you. “And you’ve left nobody to tell the tale.”

No one listens to a pirate, and everyone listens to a Queen.

“This isn’t to say there won’t be a legend that follows you.” He quirks a brow as he speaks. “Shows up and claims her father and his entire ship and crew sank at sea, only to befriend his sworn enemies in the aftermath. And then it evolves; she sent a cannon through her fathers ship, he died at the end of his own daughter's sword, she cursed him to captain a crew of the undead for eternity.”

“Have I planted the seeds for yet another ghost story?” It’s difficult to not giggle at the thought, despite how morbid.

“You’ve given yourself substance,” he says, a little stronger than before. His eyes too, wander to your neck and the bruises that refuse to budge. “Beyond just a royal or even a pirate. You did it for your honour as a human being, and that may be braver than anything I have ever conquered.”

In your anxiety ridden, feeble mind, your thoughts had convinced your conscience that everything would be over the minute your father’s heart stopped beating. That it would bring you peace at last.

And it did, especially when it felt like you’d gotten rid of this constant monster under the bed that had followed you far into adulthood. But from the bleeding heart of the creature emerged yet another one of its brethren, and then another and then another.

Smaller albeit, but monsters nonetheless. Problems nonetheless.

Weeks of this, and in one short interaction, Hoshi seemed to have given you the key to turn this monster into a pet.

On instinct, you feel your hand reach up, brushing against the skin of his cheek. It’s an all too familiar setting, seated on the deck of a ship too close for anybody but yours’ comfort. But without the rum and resentment, of course. And how you doubt he’d pull away this time.

Very lightly, you brush your lips against his. It was nothing but to simply feel him again, to feel a semblance of familiarity.

You feel him take your hand that rests on his cheek to place a kiss on your palm, nuzzling his nose into the concave of your hand.

Everything that was to come seemed a little more possible in that very moment.

Even more so when his fingers found the sensitive areas of your coloured throat, when his lips closed against your jaw, only to trail lower and to press into the marks his fingers continue to trail tucked into your neck.

That night, when slipping into your hammock felt like the most unbearable prospect in your near future, it couldn’t possibly be worse than uttering your next question to the man that seems to fix it all.

“Will you stay with me?”

With nothing but the light snores of the rest of the crew and the creaking of the ship, both you and Soonyoung laid in a hammock most definitely not meant for two. Head on his chest, ear pressed against where his heart beats under his scar, it’s bliss.

The feeling of his warm body against yours and the scent of him settling in your lungs, you decide that this was enough. At least for now.

IT WAS DIFFICULT TO give yourself the full list for obvious reasons, but it does seem to help when you tick off all the possible reasons why your patience has run as thin as it has.

Sitting at the decorated seat at the convened court of old men appointed by your father, you briefly wonder if you should finish them off too amidst your flash of anger. The men continue to squabble and babble about the next course of action, slamming their wrinkled hands on the pristine table and sending their own daggers of threats to the other inhabitants of the table.

“If you’d like to send a search party for the King’s body, be my guest,” you finally speak, having had quite enough when the throb in your temple worsens. “But remind me what troops you’ll be sending to the North if your best men will be gone for months attempting to find a body they never will.”

The dispute in the North side of the Kingdom was taking up most of the conversation anyway, and you doubt they’d put customary burial rites over their own glory of victory the North would bring.

“Your Majesty—”

“I would happily jump on the next search ship for my father,” you lie through your teeth. “But I watched him drown in front of my own two eyes, and as the next sovereign I cannot let you waste our resources for something that will both risk our soldier’s lives and have them come back home empty handed.”

Perhaps you had come off slightly more heartless than you intended, so you quickly add, “Please, let my father rest in peace.”

That seems to end the conversation easier than you had expected, but they’re quick to jump to the next issue not long after.

“The court would also like to bring light upon the palace guests.”

Tightening your jaw, you slump against your seat slightly. “What about them?”

They remain silent as their mouthpiece attempts to form the right words for the following question, mostly because you’ve addressed this multiple times beforehand but they continue to sit restless.

“Allow me to help you, Lord Bridge,” you sit up straighter, intending to put this matter to rest. “My guests will remain here for as long as they do, and if you have any more arising issues towards my guests I will only take it as your collective issues towards me.”

In the moment of silence, you continue, “The Kingdom is in a place of instability as we are all well aware. I find it most appalling that you remain fixated on trivial matters of the palace’s domestic code of conduct than you do for the wellbeing of this country!”

Silence yet again as you wait for their forcibly rehearsed chorus of apologies.

“Our greatest apologies, your Majesty.”

The pain in your temples becomes near unbearable as you dismiss the table after that, screeching your chair as you push it back as loud as you possibly can to do nothing but spite the men.

Turning the corner out of the room, you catch the open gates that lead to the paved gardens outside, the sun seeping into the marble floors indoors. Taking an instinctive step towards the gardens, you find most of the crew sprawled onto the grass as they soak in the sun.

Chan and Seungkwan look like they’re wrestling, their laughter ringing throughout the open court while their captain snaps at them to cut it out, only to get roped under one of their headlocks all the same.

There’s a call of your name and a giant wave from Mingyu, who spots you from beyond the flower beds. Still leaning against the gates, you smile and wave back.

Years the halls of the palace had gone, never hearing laughter in its walls. And something about watching them let themselves ruin the petunias and laugh so loud it echoes, heals you just a bit.

Even that night, when you find yourself in your giant four poster bed you’ve slept in since you were a child, this time dozing under the arm of another, you feel the itch of a healing wound somewhere in your heart.

Soonyoung laid with you for every night on the ship since that night, and stayed even here where the space was big enough to host the ghosts of your worries if not distracted.

He had found you on that first night in the palace still awake, haunting the library fireplace with another stack of papers to keep you company.

“Can’t sleep?” he’d asked as he picked up some of your documents.

“Clearly not,” you huff. The papers were mere decorations as you attempted to find an excuse to leave your rooms.

“You realise you won’t be much of an effective monarch if you exhaust yourself to death?”

There was no answer to that, especially when you were absorbing nothing of your new duties. You’d expected to fall asleep on the armrest of the uncomfortable settee whenever it was that you exhausted your brain of thoughts, even then refusing to sleep in that large bed.

He’s awfully persuasive, because as he tucks you into those very sheets, about to leave but not before placing a kiss on your forehead You stop him.

“Stay. Please.”

True as he has always been, he does.

THE CROWN IS HEAVIER than you had expected, even more so when it remains on your head for longer than your previously practised sessions walking around the throne room. The crew was exceptionally good at giving you things to train with, including fraudulent rodent scares to ensure the crown would not topple from your own head the minute you rise from your coronation.

And now, as you finally remove the decorative piece from your head after your actual coronation to replace it with something lighter for the following ball, you find relief in the fact that you’d only ever have to wear the actual thing only a few times in your life.

Everything moves as smoothly as it could, the decorated pirates that saved their Queen from a horrid shipwreck taking up most of the attendees attention as they either question inquisitively or send snarky remarks to the men who are well versed in how to rebut in true informal manner.

The past months had taken up more of your time than you had anticipated, and during the latter half of the still twinkling party, you attempted to spot the person you’ve been trying to corner all night.

Soonyoung stands at the edges of the gathering, empty handed as you watch him reject yet another offer for a drink from the trays that float about. His attire is the most formal you had ever seen, his face scrubbed and hair pushed back for the glorious occasion.

Approaching him from the sidelines, you take hold of his wrists and pull him towards one of the many doors in the ballroom and into a hallway you knew for a fact was rarely ever frequented.

“I feel I haven’t seen you ages,” you say once you’re sure you’re alone.

“Probably best for you to keep busy,” he replies with the smallest smile.

“Have the wrappings on your wound come off?”

Looking at his covered torso, he runs an instinctive hand over where the wound was. “Just a smaller patch now, but it’s nearly there. Disappointed it won’t scar too much.”

“Disappointed?”

“These are my spoils of war, miss princess,” he adds with a smirk, before correcting himself. “Ah, miss queen?”

“Doesn’t have the same ring,” you comment.

“The crown suits you.” His voice is soft and sincere.

Scoffing a little, you answer, “I would hope it did.”

“Although, I do prefer you in trousers and a knife.”

Laughing, you can only agree. Especially in your heavier than yourself dress and jewels. “I think I prefer them too.”

At the mention of your new status, he asks, “Shouldn’t you be milling between your new subjects?”

Keeping your eyes on his face, you wait until he meets your gaze. “I have more important things to attend to.”

He breaks eye contact first, and you can feel the distance grow further. One reach and you could take his hand in yours.

But you don’t.

“I know I’ve been quite busy, but…” you trail off as you attempt to find the words. “Is something the matter? What’s going on?”

With a long sigh, he runs a hand through his kept hair, effectively tousling it a little. “I was going to wait until after the ball to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

He makes no moves to look at you when he utters his next words. “The crew and I will be leaving at dawn tomorrow. We’ve taken up enough of your space and it’s best if we don’t intrude any further.”

It’s like you’ve taken a blow to the chest, the air knocked out of your lungs as you register what he’s just said. “You’re….you’re leaving?”

“I would think we’ve both gotten what we wanted. We had a deal.”

Deal? Why was he mentioning that now?

“Are you going to abandon me too?”

His head snaps up to finally meet your eye, mouth opening closing as words betray him.

“What happened to what you said about gaining you? All of you?” There’s a blatant accusation in your words.

“And you have! We’ll visit. Assuming the state doesn’t want my head on a pike anymore,” he chuckles uncomfortably.

In a moment of desperation, you take his hand in both of yours; his scarred, gnarled hands that tell you even in the dark who’s warmth it is that you feel every night next to you.

“Stay. Stay with me, please,” you plead. “I can’t live in this place alone, I despised it when I was young and I’ll only despise it even more now.”

Soonyoung brings his other hand to clasp over both of your own, eyes closing as you hear him take a somewhat shaky breath. “I’m doing this for the both of us.”

“So am I! I can’t possibly rule a kingdom by myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone—”

“I don’t want someone! I want you!”

He begins to whisper your name, moving his face away to blink rapidly.

“How do you feel about becoming a pirate king? I can never forbid you from the waters, that’s your home, and you will have it.”

He does not look at you, but you know he’s listening more intently than ever before.

“But I ask you as someone who loves you more than I have ever anything else, will you stay and marry me?”

Soonyoung falters as he absorbs the fact that you’ve just proposed to him.

“I—” he stutters. “The court—”

“The court wouldn’t dare to deny me the man that saved my life.”

You squeeze his hand tighter, moving impossibly closer.

“And even if they do, I'm ready to fight for the man who fought for me. So answer me as a man and not a pirate, Kwon Soonyoung, will you marry me?”

Soonyoungs mouth enclosing over your own is all the answer you need as you feel him break free of your hands to let them find your waist instead. Amidst the pile of fabric he pushes himself into you as close as possible, letting your hands guide his head to move against your mouth.

It’s everything, as you grip onto the back of his shoulder, pressing unforgettably into his open mouth. He takes in your bottom lip between his own, sucking before letting go, only to engulf your mouth once again.

“We’ll figure it out,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the nuzzle of his nose against the apple of your cheek, hot tears spilling from your eyes. “I promise, we’ll figure everything out.”

He shushes you when he feels you shudder in his hold, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “No need to torment your pretty head. Not right now.”

For once, you listen to your pirate captain without a fight, simply feeling the stretch of your lips as he moves down to capture them once more.

The pressure of his hands isn’t nearly as strong as it would’ve felt without the layers upon layers of fabric that cover your form, but standing in this desolate hallway, you swear his fingers might as well be caressing your bare skin underneath.

The thought sends your mind into a dazzling spin, letting go of his mouth with a gasp, suddenly needing to take a step back.

“I have to—I have to go back inside,” you breathe into his slick mouth. “Meet me outside my quarters at midnight.”

As scandalous as it was, you could not deny how alive it made you feel to be like this, meeting in darker corners in the dead of night. But for now, you allow him to fix the bits of your ensemble you could not see. With the bad of his thumb, he blends in the smudges of your rouge, swiping at your lips ever so delicately to ensure he leaves no trace of himself. Tucking the loose strands of hair back behind your ears, and finally, fixing the encrusted crown on your head, a flash of one of the diamond’s gleams reflecting onto his perfect face.

“You’re beautiful.” There’s a dazed look that graces him. “Beyond beautiful.”

With one last innocent press of your smiling mouth onto his, you promise him your midnight.

BY THE TIME IT was finally an appropriate hour for you to excuse yourself for the evening, you were near to exploding entirely.

Whispers of “Are you alright, your Majesty?” plaguing you through your already racing mind. It was beyond difficult to keep the constant shaking of your foot unobvious, however you could not simply up and leave whenever you wanted—at least not yet. The monarch would remain in an unstable authoritative position for quite some time after ascension, and with the unorthodox situation at hand, you assume you’d really have to push yourself if you were to be of any use as sovereign.

But when the time finally came and you were escorted out of the grand ballroom, only mere ticks away from the resounding bells of midnight, you were holding back from breaking into a sprint. Outside your quarters it was empty, but you remain steadfast in your refusal for your ladies in waiting tonight, promising you could dress yourself for bed on your own.

Standing at the double doors of your rooms, still the princess’ quarters as you refuse to move into the Queen’s rooms, you stand waiting. The two guards remain staring straight ahead, and you wait for the clicking of your ladies to go muffled before you ask.

“Has the Captain approached?”

“No, your Majesty.”

You try not to feel disappointed, despite knowing the midnight bells were yet to sound. “If he does, allow him in, please.”

Opening the double doors, you half wish you had let your ladies help you out of the god awful dress, tight and loose in all the wrong places. The jewels are thrown haphazardly on your vanity, needing the heavyweight of them off of your body.

Perhaps months of little to no bedazzling had rendered you incapable of wearing anything mildly less comfortable than linen and leather, but you suppose you’d slip back into the habit just as easily as you slipped out of it. Your nightgown feels like heaven on your tired, tired body, and the dimly lit interior of your bedchamber is only encouraging you to slip under your covers and fall deep into sleep.

That was one thing about the ship you doubt you’d ever miss.

Three rapt knocks outside of the heavy double doors have you sitting rapt at attention, hastily making your way to the door from your vanity. Pressing the front of your nightgown down, you open the door slightly and poke your head out.

Soonyoung stands at the door, nervous of all things, still clad in his full suit. You smile as you let him in, closing the door to turn the lock.

“Your guards mortify me.”

“Oh? So they’re doing their job right?” You walk up to him and grasp onto his lapels, pulling him down to meet the lips you’ve missed so much despite only being hours apart. “Why? Has this big bad pirate found his match in the palace guards of all places?”

“Hmm,” he’s humming against your lips. “I could take them both.”

Giggling like you were in love, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close.

“I hope you weren’t bothered too much,” you say. “The aristocracy seem to have being a pain in the ass written in their birthrights.”

“I think they were too scared to approach, probably thought I’d start swearing and snatching the pearls right off their necks. Some of them were bearable, asked me how long my sword was.”

It’s difficult to not laugh at that, “Well?”

He raises his brows unceremoniously, “Won’t you like to know?”

Taking the opportunity while you giggled uncontrollably at the situation, he goes back placing never ending kisses to your mouth. Sighing involuntarily, you melt into him once again, infinitely more relaxed than in the hallway.

Soonyoung’s eyelashes brush against yours in a whisper of their own, only reminding you how close you were to him in the moment. His kisses go from soft and fleeting to something with a little more vigour. The warmth of his mouth goes back to overtaking the lower half of your face, sucking and licking into your mouth like his life depended on it.

If your mind was reeling when his hands were merely ghosts of pressure over your heavy dress, the feeling of his palms and fingers so distinct over your nightgown, the only thing separating you two, is enough to have your knees begin to buckle.

From your waist, they move to your back, before caressing back to the sides of your waist, thumb running in circles. Gentle handfuls of your flesh, bunching and letting go of the material of your nightgown. Very soon, his mouth leaves yours and instead moves to your jaw, the air in the room letting you feel the wetness that he leaves behind as a passionate trail.

He soon reaches the junction of your jaw and neck, leaving a particularly long suck in the area that has a gasp leaving your mouth. Remaining in that area, you feel the pleasant graze of his tongue on your skin, only making you tilt your head farther out to let him carry out his loving.

Your mind wanders back to the hands that grope you in ways that would defame you, the unseemly palms that have you needing to feel him all the same.

With grazing hands, you slip your fingers underneath his jacket, pushing it off one shoulder. He understands the message, flicking it off of his frame before loosening his cravat and throwing it somewhere behind him.

Unlatching from your neck, he comes round to face you to find your face the epitome of disconnected and dazed.

“Can you wait for me on the bed, my love?”

“But—” The thought of him being even an inch away was most aggravating, but he cuts you off before you can refute.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Soonyoung rests his forehead against your own, taking your hands in his. “I’m right here. I just need to take this awful suit off.”

Your face must have been peculiar because he’s immediately jumping, panicked. “Uh—do you not want me to, we don’t have to, I just thought—”

“No!” you yelp, wide eyed. “I, um, I’ll wait. On the bed, I mean.”

He lets you walk over to the giant four poster bed, pushing the flow of your gown down when you realise how high it had ridden, cheeks burning scarlet at the thought of exposing so much.

Hearing ruffles from behind you, you cannot bring yourself to look back at him, already extremely lightheaded and afraid that the sight might make you faint altogether.

Perhaps you were experiencing a delayed case of sea legs, because it’s more difficult than usual to make yourself comfortable on the soft beddings. You make a futile attempt at slowing your breathing.

By the time Soonyoung is done, meeting you in the middle, you keep your eyes on his face as he’s immediately climbing over to kiss you softly. Hand on the back of your head, he guides you to lay flat, adjacent to the headboard so you’re laying on the breadth of the bed.

He handles you like you were made of glass, and it only makes the strange ache between your legs increasingly present and uncomfortable.

Noting a cool feeling on the base of your throat, you open your eyes and catch the leather cord that dangles from his neck, the letter opener charm that’s attached to the end of it connecting you two as your lips part. Just beyond, through the dip of his collarbones and the valley to his chest, you catch the scar that curls above his heart. Even lower, you find the smaller wrappings of his scarring wound.

You trace over the edges of the new addition, shaking hands as you try your best to not brush over the wound.

On the other side, Soonyoung has his hands on shin as his body hovers over you between your legs. Curling around, he caresses the skin of your bare calf, drifting to the back of your knees. He takes the opportunity to lift your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist.

The action has gravity doing what it does best, the hem of your nightgown dropping to bunch over the junction of your leg, your entire thigh exposed for the air.

Soonyoung takes no time to let his hands wander higher, taking light handfuls of the flesh of thighs, dragging his grip further and further up.

“Nearly tipped the ship over when I saw you in those fucking trousers,” he says, eyes closed as he drags his mouth over the inner part of your thigh.

The sound that leaves your mouth is breathy, mind preoccupied with how quickly he was making his way towards the apex of your thighs. He’s using his mouth like he used it on your own lips, nipping at the flesh before biting down hard.

“Soonyoung!”

Tongue running over the patch, he sucks on the area to sooth the bite. It’s taking everything out of you to not twitch uncontrollably in his hold, the heat in your core reaching temperatures you’ve never experienced.

Unlatching himself from your thigh, Soonyoung rears his head slightly. The sight has your head rolling back, mind drifting to the face of the man who’d visited you in your dreams, the same man that had now made home between your legs.

Before you realise it, the bunched hem of your nightgown is flown upwards entirely, fluttering as the fabric lands on your stomach.

Your heat is bare underneath, evident with the way Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the now fully exposed part of you. Your chest continues to rise and fall as you lift your head to look at him, eyes half closed and mind muddled.

“What…What’re you doing?”

Soonyoung looks like you’ve disturbed him from a trance, snapping up to look at you as you ask him your question.

It hardly registers in his mind. What was he doing? Was it not obvious—

Ah.

If the mere sight of your bare thighs weren’t enough for him to release his load onto the sheets untouched, your unawareness might just end up doing it for him.

Of course you didn’t know why he was at eye level with your cunt; women from this world were not supposed to know.

The buzz in his mind renders him useless for a few moments as his vision blurs, the pain in his lower region unbearable. The thought of him being the first person to do this to you, to pleasure you like this; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it till the end of the night alive.

Screwing his eyes shut, his palms full of your thighs, he drops his head and counts to ten.

“Will you let me show you how a Queen is meant to be worshipped?”

Wet mouthed and unhinged eyes, your arousal was doing nothing but multiplying at the sight of him.

“Do you trust me?” he asks. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

It takes you less than a moment to nod your head, eyes locked with his.

Bringing a hand closer, he dips one finger into the beginnings of your hole. Bringing some of the glisten onto his fingers. Your lips are parted and he brings a second finger to gather your arousal, rubbing over your entrance ever so slowly.

The motion makes you let out a heavy exhale, gripping onto the bunched fabric at your stomach till your knuckles turn white.

With little warning, you feel his fingertips push and drag upwards, right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately, he’s rubbing your arousal all over the area, rubbing your clit in rhythmic circles with both fingers.

You can’t stop it when you throw your head back and let out a slight whimper, relishing in the feeling that overtakes every last sense and capability, anticipating the next surge of pleasure that courses through your entire body like you've been struck by a bolt of something.

Vision obscured, you loll your head to the side when you feel his fingers retract, confused.

All you catch is the outstretched nature of his tongue, and how it lands directly where his fingers were.

You let out the loudest moan yet, back arching off the bed as he licks a forceful drag up your cunt before moving back down your clit, circling your hole with the tip of his tongue, right before repeating. He flicks your nub right where he’s found you twitch the most, back and forth as your hips begin to fail at your suppressed stutters, his hands needing to pin you down onto the sheets to continue.

He becomes more generous, laying his tongue flat now as he massages your nub so good. Your thighs are closing around his ears and he does nothing to stop you, nearly suffocating between them. Hips going from their stutters to a grind, you find your hands flying to his hair, grip tighter than you thought you’d come down with. It doesn’t help that he’s now taken a finger to circle your entrance while his lips suck on your clit.

“Soonyoung.” It’s all you can say, throat incapable of forcing anything but his name, the burn behind your eyes only making it harder to not say it louder.

When he pushes the finger in, it has you letting out a moan, the foreign feeling against your walls only forcing them to clamp onto his digit. Gradually, you feel his pace quicken as he slides his finger in and out of your hole, his mouth still doing beautiful things to your cunt.

It doesn’t take long for him to shove in another finger, stretching your hole as you let out a constant string of noises through the pleasure, ever-building as every passing moment only scrambles your brain further.

And then you feel him groan, a vibration throbbing through your system.

It’s suddenly all too much, and before you can tell him what’s going on, you’re rendered incapable. You don’t know where your limbs fly, but all you feel is white hot and overwhelming to an unbelievable degree.

“Oh–ungh—” Your body is telling Soonyoung all he needs to know as he only pushes into your pussy even further, letting you ride out your high as you claw at him in every way possible.

Inevitably, the feeling subsides and you realise you’ve been reduced to sobs, tears streaking the sides of your face. Laying flat with your head still on the sheets, you stare at the ceiling of your four poster, trying to remember where you were.

Barely noticing the man that now hover above you, you hear him whisper. “Are you alright?”

Nodding weakly, you don’t even try to lift a finger in the remaining aftermath.

“I need words, my love.”

Swallowing thickly, you give him a breathy, “Yes.”

The lower half of his face glistens in the light like unorthodox diamonds, and all you can think about is how you need him closer to you.

You make an attempt with your nightgown, your trembling arms, still coursing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Soonyoung decides to help, hands pushing your spine into an arch as he pulls the slip up and over your head, now entirely bare in front of him.

You watch as instead of throwing the fabric away, he brings it to his mouth to wipe the slick off, tainting the gown with your essence.

Mouth over yours in a salty kiss, you pull him into you as close as humanly possible, needing to feel his heat, his weight, his scent as close as possible. His mouth reaches your throat again, lips brushing over the expanse as he places open mouthed kisses over the nearly faded marks.

His hands are lingering once again as they ghost the sides of your breasts, thumbs coming close to your nipples before retracting in a caress. He takes them in handfuls as he goes back to busy your lips with his own, massaging the mounds with a pressure just enough to have you reeling.

Flicking your nipple lightly, he goes back to circle the bud with thumb again. Making himself further familiar, his fingers begin to pinch and pull at them, pressing down to get a noise out of you, one that you sound as you breathe into his mouth.

Trailing over your stomach, he pushes himself off of you. On his knees, he takes the distance as his chance to look at you in your entirety for the first time. Your fucked out expression and your lack of words is doing nothing but fueling him, your loud breaths somehow more sinful than anything he could ever do to you.

In one swift motion, he’s slipping his arms beneath you, pulling you up so he can lay you against the headboards and pillows. You barely register what’s happening, having given yourself up to him long before.

Grabbing one of the millions of cushions on the bed, he swings one over. Using no strength of your own, he lifts your hips and places it down beneath you, effectively propping you up.

And then he’s meeting you at eye level, hands cupping your face. “I need you to listen to me, darling.”

He waits for confirmation, of which you can only nod, still seeing mild stars. “Do you want to stop?”

It's a visceral reaction; the violent shaking of your head, the hand that flies to his bicep. “N–no!”

You pause as he grips onto your upper arms tight, right as you continue. “I just—a moment. Don’t stop, please.”

Leaning down, he places a long kiss on the corner of your mouth before moving his head to fit into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles his nose against the skin below your ear.

“I’m right here,” he whispers. “For as long as you want me.”

His kisses go from desperate to something with a little more intent, pressing his lips into your neck consistently. Oh so gently, it begins to feel like a draught. He turns into calm just as he could become chaos, bringing you down from the after effects of his own actions.

The hum that leaves you is unthinking, fingers remaining deep in the roots of his hair. Your own nose is pressed against his hair, his scent mixed with sweat infiltrating your nostrils. It fills your head with a pleasant buzz, one that you feel force a pull at the corners of your mouth.

“I meant it when I said it,” you murmur into his hair. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Raising his head, he meets your eye, smiling slightly. “I believe you. Forgive me for making you believe I was trying to leave you.”

“You weren’t?”

He presses his lips into a line, exhaling as he drops his chin to his chest. “I’ve needed to be selfish my whole life just to survive. Leaving…I wasn’t sure how I would’ve gotten on that boat in the morning without taking you with me somehow.”

Moving back to look at you, you realise very quickly there’s more to the mere glassy look in his eye. “For once, I wished to be anything but a pirate, to be anywhere but near the sea. Not when you wouldn’t be there with me.”

Taking one of his beautifully decorated hands to your mouth, you kiss the soft of his palm. “You’ve done more than anyone ever has to protect me.”

You laugh against his hand, “This is my turf, captain. Let me protect you… protect us.”

Something injects you with a dose of bold, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his raised shoulders. “But…I believe we were in the middle of something. I’d hate to ruin the mood.”

The smirk that graces his lips is immediate, pushing you back down onto the sheets as you let a laugh escape you.

And then you feel something warm graze your bottom lip, pointed in the way it pushes inwards. He’s brought the glinting letter opener charm up to your lips, the trinket pinched between his fingers as he continues to keep it on your mouth. He kisses you deep as the metal remains between you two, your hands run across the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple as he props himself between you.

“I love you,” he cuts between the kiss to groan, the charm dropping from between your mouths to your chest.

“I love you, mmh—” His fingers have found your clit mid confession, rubbing quickly as he attempts to get you all hot and withered again.

Your legs raise on instinct, back arching as he rubs you mercilessly, the pressure building quicker than it had before.

“I–I think—” you start to tell him, and it seems it’s all he needs to remove his fingers entirely.

“Soonyoung!” you yelp, landing on the bed with a thud.

Looking down, you find his hands wrapped around the length between his own legs, and you realise this was your first time seeing it. Past the white-oozing slit, his tip is a painful looking red. If his hands weren’t already pumping and he hadn’t already lined himself up to your hole, you would’ve taken him into your own palms, done exactly with your mouth that he’d done with his own.

But you can’t find it within yourself to stop him when you feel the initial push of his bulbous tip against your hole, the stretch causing you to drop your mouth open.

“Fuck,” you hear him curse, and when you look up you find his own eyes screwed shut. His hands grip the plush of the pillow beside your head as tight as ever, face askew like he was holding himself back from combusting entirely.

Slowly, you feel the stretch turn into something akin to a burn, a sting in the back of your eyes. You let him push himself into you at his own pace, the never ending battle between your mind and your refrained hips ever present as you attempt to keep them at bay.

He keeps his pelvis flush against yours ince he’s sheathed himself inside you entirely. BOth of your pants fill the thick air of the room, the throb of your walls around his shaft leaving a tremble in his forearm despite your forsake.

Hand somewhere above your head, you feel Soonyoung pull out ever so slightly before pushing back in. Just like this, in shallow thrusts, he pumps himself in an out of your walls in a slow pattern.

It begins with a simmering tremble of pleasure that prolongs as he drags his cock in and out, and then in and out, and then—

Your eyes fly open when you feel his hips slam against yours with a resounding sound, fingers gripping his arm as he does it again, your moans penetrating the air. Before you know it, he’s hiked your legs up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking as he goes back to snapping his hips into you.

“Oh, Soonyoung.”

Your nails are digging into his bicep like it was the only thing tying you to this earth, the only thing keeping you from passing out entirely. He’s taken up a brutal pace, pistoning into your clamped walls with a vigour unmatched.

All Soonyoung can hear is the stretch of your moans and groans directly in his ear, the obscene squelch of both of your fluids mixing at your middles. Your hands have migrated to his back, clawing at the skin like you’ve been utterly possessed.

He can’t seem to mind, not when they’ll simply become reopening wounds every time he’ll have you like this, all to himself and no one else. He wonders vaguely if your guards outside can hear the way you’re losing yourself in him just as he is in you, wonders if it appalls them that a filthy pirate gets to have their Queen in his arms as her vindictive pleasure.

One hand rubbing over your slick clit, he pulls back to sit on his heels, the angle allowing him to keep ever part of you occupied, his spare hand coming up to toy with the pillow of your breast.

It’s all too much, for the both of you as your collective noises become increasingly frequent and high pitched.

And then he’s pushed you over the edge, the shake of your thighs electrifying as you nearly scream out in the bliss of your high. Hands moving every which way to find a grip as you let the feeling crash into you over and over again.

“Oh, that’s so good, so good, oh my goodness.”

You’re still in the middle of your climax when Soonyoung can’t take it anymore, letting himself release his load inside of you like a mark. It’s a mess of force and pleasure as the both of you lose sight of your strengths and weaknesses, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into your walls only prolonging your orgasm even further.

He continues to thrust, continues to play with your nub, continues to flick at your nipples despite the orgasm subsiding. It’s all suddenly too much all at once, the sharp jerk of your body and your voice asking him to stop.

“Soon—Soonyoung, it’s too much.”

Hands coming to a halt and his thrusts slowing, you feel him ease himself out of you.

It’s a sight Soonyoung doubts he could ever forget even if he tried, your still pulsating walls doing everything but keeping the milky white of his load inside you, globs of the liquid spilling out as you shudder near lifeless on the bed. His hands grope at the inside of your thighs, pulling your lips apart to take in the mess he’s made.

He can’t help himself when he pushes two fingers into your hole, feeding his cum back into your hole right where it belongs.

You’ve only barely started to come round when he meets you at eye level, plopping next to you on the bed.

“Hi,” he grins.

“Hi,” you breathe back, hands coming up to touch his face.

He lets you breathe for a few moments as he finds himself getting off the bed to find your tainted nightgown, moving back to you to spread your legs and wipe you clean as best as he could.

You find it within yourself to allow him to pull you into a sitting position, a cup of water from the nightstand pressing against your tired mouth.

“Come on, just one,” he urges as you slump against his chest.

You take a few sips as he coaxes you into drinking the full cup and half of the second helping.

He gives up as he holds you against his chest, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair to push past your face.

“Are you alright?” he asks you. Your eyes are closed when he leans down to place a peck on the apple of your cheek.

“Mhm,” you muffle. “Want to sleep.

“I’d let you, but…”

“Soonyoung, I can’t go again,” you whine.

He chuckles, “I meant to ask where we could find some sugar around here. You barely ate anything at the ball.”

“The kitchens?” you answer with a floating question mark.

Soonyoung can’t help it when he squeezes you so tight it has you complaining loudly, not being able to sustain the love just in the tiny expanse of his heart.

“Come on, let’s get you some cake before both our hearts give out.”

BUNDLED UP IN WARMER clothes, the only thing the palace walls hear is the tiny whispers and giggles of you and your lover as you make your way to the kitchens.

It’s empty at this time of night, the dying embers of the fireplace the only source of light. Soonyoung uses every last bit of his thievery to manage to find a basket of dough balls, the syrup more readily available at the table in the centre.

The tingling in your brain can’t seem to decipher the overwhelming happiness that floods you from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes. Especially when you call out his name amidst his shuffling, your heart can’t take the grin on his face as he hurries to join on the floor in front of the fireplace.

Arm looped through his own and your head on his shoulder, you decide you’d be quite okay dying like this.

The dough balls are cold and the syrup is probably a little too sweet, but you can’t possibly complain when it warms you just the same.

“I’ve despised my name my entire life,” Soonyoung starts in the silence, picking at the insides of his treat. “Some old merchant sailor was giving his ship away in exchange that the taker would take care of it. He’d built his Tigress from the first board to the last sail, but the years had made their mark. It was practically falling apart when I took it off his hands.”

He pushes the remaining bit of the pastry into his mouth, muffled as he continues, “He had a strange name, said it was given to him by his crew when they realised he was born without a name. Hoshi. I liked it well enough so I kept it.”

“Soonyoung—”

“That one. I wanted to replace the name I loathed, the one my own mother gave me.” You watch as his throat bobs as he swallows. “Ash is my birthplace, my mother worked in the brothels where I was born only because she couldn’t get rid of me.”

Taking one of the hands that wrap around his arm, he brings your fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of each one. “I despised that name, until I heard it from your lips.”

“Soonyoung.” It felt right on your tongue, like you were destined to say his name.

“Yes, my love?” He smiles softly.

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says as he kisses you again. “Thank you for keeping my name, thank you for giving it life.”

You take the opportunity to grab one of the syrup soaked dough balls from the basket and stuff them into his mouth. “Enough, don’t tell me all this luxury’s made you soft.”

It was a jab but a lighthearted one in any case, you loved to see this side of him and you doubt you would ever get enough of seeing him like this. Vulnerable with his softer smiles and squinted eyes.

Bringing one of your digits to your mouth, you suck the remaining syrup off your fingers.

Soonyoung is quick to take notice as he takes your hand and brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the pads of your fingers to take in the remaining sugar left on your fingers.

He keeps his eyes locked onto yours as he sucks on the tips of your fingers, making sure every last hint of sweetness is gone.

And then he’s kissing you, tongue in your mouth as he moves against your lips slowly.

Breaking apart, you whisper, “As much as I’d love to, the bakers will be coming in any minute now.”

Soonyoung’s grin is dangerous, and you find out why the minute you feel his arms loop around your waist and under your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor of the kitchens.

You squeal before you can help it, his lips finding home in your neck as you laugh as loud as your chest would allow.

You could get used to this. And you will.

THE SERVANTS CARRYING THE giant stack of plates nearly topple over when you sprint past them, yelling a loud apology over your shoulder as you do nothing but hasten your pace.

The paper in your hands is clutched tight in your fists as you run to where your carriage awaits, near yelling at the driver to make it to the docks before the streets would be full of the early morning merchants and bakers, slowing the gallops of the decorated horses.

The town is waking as your carriage races past, the beginnings of the new day making itself known as the sun peers through the gaps of the houses. You’re incapable of sitting still, your heels tapping against the floors of your cabin incessantly as the docks grow nearer and nearer.

And then you see it, the rush of dock handlers that see the royal carriage slow to a stop in front of the boardwalk. You slam the door open before any of the tens could do it for you, breaking into a sprint as you find the distinct flag of the royal crest wave high on the other end of the docks.

You had already seen Soonyoung off in the dark of the night as he made his way to the ship that was near ready to depart as you slide to stop in front of the anchored ship.

There was nothing sane about what you were doing, the chortles and shocked noises of sailors and merchants deaf to ears as you finally spot him near the prow.

His eyes meet yours and he has to do a double take.

Panting and needing to hold onto your knees for support, you peer up as you watch him run towards the ramp that leads down to the docks to see you, to ask why you were here when he’d kissed you goodbye mere hours ago.

By the time he meets you at the wobbly boardwalk, you’ve somewhat recovered.

“Are you alright?” he asks you as soon as you’re within earshot, hands grasping onto your upper arms in evident concern.

“I had to tell you, this came in right after you left.” You brandish the paper clutched into your fist, smoothing it over as the light catches the red stamp at the bottom.

It takes him less than a minute to realise what it said, eyes blinking rapidly and mouth gaping like a fish. “They…They said yes?”

“They said yes,” you repeat, nodding furiously as you break into a smile. “We can get married, Soonyoung, they said yes.”

His arms are crushing you before you know it, wrapped around you so tight as he buries his face into your neck, repeating it like a mantra, “They said yes…”

By the time you part, he keeps his arms around you, still embracing you in front of the entire port. You take hold of his face bringing it closer to you.

“Three months, and then you come home,” you breathe. “And I get to marry you, in front of everyone.”

Soonyoung lets his lips meet your own in a chaste kiss as he corrects you, “I get to marry you in front of everyone.”

There’s a thud of something nearby, and you look up to find the crew of the Tigress hanging over the railings of the newly appointed naval ship that looked suspiciously like a pirate’s.

“He can’t come back home, if he doesn’t leave!” Seungkwan yells over cupped hands.

You’d like to send him an affectionate gesture involving your middle finger, but choose to save him in front of the crowded port.

“You’ll miss me, Seungkwan, just you wait,” you send him a pointed glare that he simply scoffs at.

He might miss you, but you’ll definitely miss the lot of them when you return to a significantly emptier palace.

“Don’t let the royal snobs walk over you, you’re a better sailor anyway,” you tell Soonyoung. “Not that I needed to tell you, anyway.”

“I promise on our future wedding to be a complete menace.” He grins at the declaration as you admire him in the morning light.

One last time, you memorise the dips and hills of his features, pressing your final kiss into his lips as the voices telling him to hurry it up grow louder.

He blows you a kiss from the railings as the anchor is hoisted, and you send him one right back.

As your carriage trudges its path back to the palace, at a pace more acceptable for both the stamina of the horses and the integrity of the structure, your eyes remain glued to the shrinking ship that fades into the distant horizon.

There’s a pang in your chest, one that brings a tear to your eyes. It’s all very dramatic, the way the melancholy makes a home in your heart. An inkling tells you how you’ll probably become quite used to the feeling, learn to greet it like a friend.

For now you enter the lighter palace, and take your place on the chair in your study and find solace in the ideas your mind brings.

That no matter how long Soonyoung will remain far from you, he will always come back home to you.

Always.

[AN]: ty for joining my babies on their journey, i cannot thank you all enough for reading all 48fuckingK words of this i love you guys truly!!! thank you for all the reblogs and comments on the other parts, it makes me genuinely so happy to see you guys enjoy this universe that i've built. I read every single comment and know i appreciate all of it so so much <3

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ironunderstands · 8 months ago

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God I love being correct (2.2 leaks incoming!!!)

“Jade saved Aventurine!!!” “Jade helped him out of the kindness of her own heart!!” “Jade is such a mother figure to Aventurine!!”

mmm yeah, definitely yup 100%

Honestly this fucking speaks for itself, and I’m so glad hoyo committed to the evil on her, she’s very compelling and that’s extremely cunty I must give her credit for it, but god do I absolutely despise the people who believe Jade and Aventurine have a healthy relationship, or that she “saved” him out of the kindness of her own heart or something.

To Jade, Aventurine is an investment, nothing more and nothing less, which is why she puts her faith in him, he’s a reliable business opportunity, but that’s not the same as caring about him personally and I really need people to get the difference

If Aventurine hadn’t proved himself useful to her, she would have left him to rot in prison or succumb to his death sentence, this isn’t saving, it’s exploitation.

Jade knows Aventurine couldn’t decline whatever offer she made, and anything is worse than death or slavery, the things he’s trying to escape, so she offers for him to join the IPC to make more money for them. That’s it, that’s all she wants, she doesn’t care about how bad being in the IPC is for Aventurine’s mental health, how he literally took on a suicide mission so he could escape being a stoneheart, how even if she “saved” him, his banner name is literally “gilded imprisonment” and his lightcone “inherently unjust destiny”, so damn she did a real good job at saving him and fixing his life, definitely didn’t just put him in a pair of gilded chains.

Also like can we talk about how weird Jades comment about his eyes were? Like it’s genuinely creepy to me considering Avens eyes are a) one of his biggest insecurities and b) people fetishize them, something which Jade knows and chooses to still comment about. I hate to say it, but I feel like if this was a male Jade saying that to a female Aventurine, yall would never let that slide and Jade would never beat the p3do allegations. Aventurine was likely a teenager/young adult in that scene, and either way there is a visible power dynamic between them (I mean Aven is literally in chains looking up at her), and I don’t think if the situation was flip flopped people would be treating Jade like some kinda hero. If they were the same gender I feel like people would be shipping them though 😭

So, yeah. Being correct feels amazing, pls use your brains and realize that just because one character sounds kinda nice to another, does not mean they actually care about them or are a good person!

#honkai star rail #aventurine #hsr aventurine #hsr jade #penacony #hsr spoilers #hsr leaks #Ah it feels so good to watch the “Jade is mother figure to Aven” truthers lose #Now we have to prepare for the second wave of annoying #That being the “omg don’t end that flop jade”#I hope her kit is absolute dogshit just to limit the size of her annoying ass fans #Ik it will probably be amazing but still #Jade is a pretty amazing villain and I hope her fans don’t keep ruining her for me

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whalemleck · 2 months ago

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Will you make Bee's attachment/trust chart? Like how much does Bee trust them, or likes being around them, or probably feels responsibility over them, or how much he despise them, or just dont care

I didn't really think about it until you asked, so thanks a lot!

Bee would have written himself attachment/trust chart on Cliff's advice, since after the events of TPF1 he has very mixed feelings about the whole situation

Cliff, out of curiosity, looked through this list when Bee was not there. The Sentinel always came first, but after meeting brother Bee, he wrote a question mark next to Prime. The list was not updated for some time and remained empty, since he was always using responsibilities, bodyguard was not up to dating, until after a while Cliff saw the names written illegibly at the bottom and with comments in parentheses

Orion Pax (can trust? To study, to observe)

D-16 ( can trust, but a little less. Orion's Friend, To study, to observe)

after the events of TPF1 Cliffjumper will be surprised to find that the Sentinel has been completely crossed out, and he himself was at the top of the list, as well as new names added to the list

Sentinel Prime (master, can trust?) He's dead, forget about him.

Cliffjumper (Sparkbrother, can trust. He has always been caring towards you, it is your turn to take care of his well-being)

Orion Pax (can trust? To study, to observe) Optimus Prime (sort out your feelings. can be trusted)

D—16 ( can trust, but a little less. Orion's Friend, To study, to observe) he is no longer who he was

Elite one (she trusts me, i will do the same)

Prowl (can trust? he doesn't seem to mind my company, I hope I don't disturb him. (don't forget to attend his therapy sessions))

Jazz (I like him.)

Ratchet (At the moment he is my attending physician, he seems to be happy with my company and grumbles less when I am around.)

Arachnid (still trust her.)

Sentinal's former right hand was jailed for her complicity and many of the things she did under his command. And to the surprise of most, she said nothing about B, didn't reveal his actions, but only wished him luck and advised him to visit her in prison, as her advice would still be useful to him. (and it was)

there was no one he truly hated or despised because he was always indifferent to the behavior of others. (he still thought he betrayed Sentinel, but he also understands that this bot didn't see him as anything more than a weapon)

#bodyguard!b127

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automaticmercy · 6 months ago

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Anyways something I’ve been musing for a while is ES Megatron being accidentally extremely charming. When he’s not his usual angry, tyrannical self, he’s so well spoken, and as of recent he’s been trying harder to be nicer, more patient, with the ones around him.

He’s even learning to be nice ! It’s a start.

It’s a rough idea where the former Decepticon prisoners and the Autobots call a temporary truce , and room together at the former Ghost headquarters - cue ridiculous harem-trope scenes ofc ofc.

Megatron , completely by accident , feeding into exactly what everyone needs - whether they know they need it or not.

Shockwave who is struggling with his feelings of inadequacy and uncertainty in, well, everything, vs Megatron who has been practicing giving out praise where it’s due.

“You made this? It’s brilliant, Shockwave.”

And Megatron doesn’t say it in that sappy, kiss-up tone, he means it when he says it , and Shockwave just kind of. Stares at him. Expressionless as he is , you wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance , but he is just SO pleased. And confused. He tries to ignore it and push the feelings down, but Megatron just /keeps/ complimenting him and praising him + Shockwave just slowly getting used to it and even seeking out his praise. Megatron is the first to see any new scientific discoveries he makes , and showers him with well earned praise. All the while Megatron just thinks he’s making up for old wounds, and being a good friend, meanwhile Shockwave is experiencing what the organics call ‘butterflies’ in his midsection.

Soundwave , all bitter and angry and doing his best to be detached vs Megatron who’s very patient and attentive etc. One time , Soundwave couldn’t find Ravage. He looked all over HQ and she was still nowhere to be found. Only for Megatron to appear with her in tow, explaining they were both eager to stretch their legs , and had gone for a walk. Soundwave who only glares and walks away with Ravage, not even sparing a word to his former leader.

But Megatron doesn’t take this as a deliberate insult - Soundwave has always been a less-than-talkative mech anyway. Anyways, he keeps going for walks with Ravage , and sometimes even Frenzy and Laserbeak join them . Soundwave who gets all possessive because who the hell is Megatron to be attending to /his/ cassette’s needs ?

Soundwave eventually joining them on their walks and finding he actually really enjoys them. For the first two outings, none of them say a word. The third time though, Megatron is the first to break the silence, and eventually Soundwave warms up to one word responses. Megatron, who is thrilled to have his former TIC talking to him again, begins to talk… a lot. And Soundwave just listens. Sometimes even offering up not one, not two, but three word responses ! Eventually their outings become a routine, and at some point, the little cassettes stop attending and it’s just Megatron and Soundwave, walking along a cement path as the sun sets in the distance. Megatron making some half-thought out comment that Soundwave is a lot like the moon, gleaming and silent - its usefulness and beauty often underappreciated. Etc. and Megatron spewing out an apology for underappreciating Soundwave in the past - being all sincere and genuinely sympathetic. Though, most of his words are unheard, seeing as Soundwave is short circuiting because Megatron just insinuated that he was beautiful.

And Starscream, too, will fall victim to these silly harem tropes. I’ve been thinking he takes way longer to even look Megatron in the optics - watching from afar as he ‘shamelessly flirts’ with the rest of the former Decepticons , insisting that he himself won’t fall for such obvious tricks and lies.

Anyways, Starscream who still gets all nervous in Megatron’s presence, though he swallows this all down and hides it with his impressive anger. Vs Megatron who just sighs and relents, keen to leave the little seeker to his lonesome etc. lest he invoke his wrath and ruin what little semblance of peace they harbored

Hashtag, just wanting to help ofc ofc , keeps setting up moments for Megatron and Starscream to meet ‘accidentally’. She’d seen it in a movie , when two friends are fighting and yet keep accidentally meeting, eventually learning to their reconciliation.

It doesn’t end so well the first few times, ofc, but they’re slowly getting somewhere!

One of the times, they end up in an elevator alone, and Starscream is glaring holes into the floor buttons. Hashtag had synced into the HQ’s WiFi and activated every button. Damn this place for having so many floors.

“So…” Megatron begins and Starscream holds up his servo in a ‘stop’ motion. Telling him not to even start. That he wont fall victim to his lies too, that he isn’t as much a fool as everyone else is.

“They may believe you’ve changed, but I know you - I know you haven’t changed a single thing, besides the insignia you bear.” And Megatron just stands there stupidly for a while, mulling over a thousand responses. His first instinct is to argue and defend himself but Starscream clearly doesn’t look like he’s in the mood to listen to that. When the elevator dings it’s on the second to last stop, Megatron sighs. “I’m sorry, Starscream.”

It’s a shitty apology, yeah, but it’s a start. “Save it.” Starscream would snap , and as soon as the doors slid open, he’d storm out of the elevator.

And from that moment on , every time Megatron runs into Starscream, he already has a speech of an apology ready. Starscream, at first, just gets angrier and angrier every time he hears that pathetic word drip from his former leader’s vocalizer. As if ‘sorry’ would fix anything !

But eventually , ofc , it starts to work. Starscream who lingers just long enough to hear the end of Megatron’s speech of atonement, but leaves without a word.

Around the fifth apology though, Starscream asks “how many times are you going to try and trick me with this ‘apology’?” And grumbles something about never, ever forgiving Megatron. That no mere apology would ever atone for everything. And Megatron just hums. “I dont seek your forgiveness, Starscream. I will apologize as many times as you like, for the rest of my life cycle if you’d like, and you dont ever have to forgive me even a little bit.”

Starscream just cant understand why his former leader would sink so low, this was a humiliating performance, and yet… it was charming in its own way.

Anyways, I have not fully fleshed it out but some stupid, cheesy scene where Starscream trips and falls next to Megatron but before he can kiss the floor with his pretty face, Megatron catches him - by the waist. And when he resettles Starscream on his pedes, his touch lingers, and Starscream's processor seems to fizzle out of coherency.

Agh, big, dumb, charming Megatron is my weakness I tell you. I want nice Earth spark Megatron. Someday, I'll get around to writing this hehe.

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jedi-enthusiasm-blog · 10 days ago

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Listen maybe the jedi couldn't end slavery on tattooine in their lifetime with just the numbers they had, sure. But they could've gone back for anakin's mom, like the one woman who is clearly a sore spot for him, I get it, not attachments and all, but he's far more likely to not make a sudden, angry, rash decision and slaughter not just the men, but the women and the children as well if she's not in danger of being kidnapped and murdered right?

Beautiful comment left by a dear in my post about the Jedi's limited numbers. At least it wasn't an essay in the reblogs, unlike the last… seven or eight I think. Idk, I lost count after three people dropped anti-Jedi essays I definitely didn't ask for in less than an hour in a clearly tagged post that wasn't even meant to be serious.

Now for the response because why the heck not?:

1) Sorry to break it to you buddy but she could still be kidnaped tortured and murdered on Couruscant.

2) They should have gone back to free one slave and risk war with the Hutts since Watto has connections with them? Really? It sounds really fucking risky. Plus, when freeing slaves, slaves are hostages, freeing them is dangerous for both the slave, the person/people freeing them and whoever is in the blast radious since, y'know, there's a fucking bomb inside them.

3) They did free her in Legends, or at least had a part in her winning her freedom.

4) It's not the Jedi's job to placate a fucking genocidal child murderer, it's ANAKIN'S job to keep his shit together and not murder people.

5) Why does Shmi deserve freedom more urgently than any other slave? Because she's nice? Because she's Anakin's mom? Newflash mate, freedom is a right and even the rudest slave who has no family or friends deserves it. What you say is ATTACHMENT, it's the Dark Side. You'd be saving Shmi because of who she is in relationship to someone else or because she's "earned" it, not because she's a fucking person and deserves her basic human rights. Arguably, if you flip this you could just as easily say that a rude person with no friends and family deserves slavery, or at the very least shouldn't be a priority when freeing slaves.

6) George Lucas is more metaphorical than literal, and the PT suffered for it (it does have some holes).

7) How do you know the Jedi didn't try to free her but couldn't for X reason? That headcanon is just as valid as saying they never tried (actually more, since Qui-Gon did try).

8) It bears repeating: it's ANAKIN'S responsability to keep his shit together and not. murder. people. I don't give a fuck that his mom died, it's no excuse to MURDER FUCKING CHILDREN. Shmi didn't deserve to be kidnaped, tortured and murdered, but the Tuskens (the children most of all) didn't deserve to be slaughtered like animals either.

9) I'm gonna say it again because this is serious: Anakin shouldn't be coddled by the fans, he was above the IRL age of majority in most countries, twelve year olds spent their whole lives in PRISON for far less and he got married literally one day after. He. Was. An. Adult.

I apologize for the essay because it does seem disproportionate in hindsight. But after months of having nearly every single one of my posts infested with anti-Jedi people dropping essays I have clearly stated I don't want, after years of not being able to enjoy the content I like without looking at comments and reblogs and seeing vitrol towards not just the fictional characters I love but towards me and other real people, I'm at the end of my patience.

I won't tag you in the end, commenter, because I don't want to give any incentives for harassment or make you or anybody who sees Star Wars like you to feel upset by reading this. You are entitled to your opinions as much as I am to mine. If you see this post, you know who you are.

#star wars #pro jedi #in defense of the jedi #anti jedi bashing #responding to a comment

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maaarine · 1 year ago

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The sexual assault of sleeping women: the hidden, horrifying rape crisis in our bedrooms (Anna Moore, The Guardian, June 15 2021)

"Naming specific acts, rather than using broad – and loaded – terms such as “abuse” or “rape”, her survey asked more than 22,000 women if, for example, they had ever been spat at, or strangled, kicked or bitten.

It also asked respondents if they had ever woken to their male partner having sex with them or performing sex acts on them while they slept.

To this question, 51% answered yes.

This was not randomised sampling – the survey was widely shared online and participants were self-selected. For this reason, it’s hard to extrapolate from the findings.

The results sparked a predictably polarised online response. “This was extremely validating for me after years of thinking, ‘Am I being raped?’ I’m not alone”, tweeted one woman.

“It’s why I now jerk awake if someone even gently brushes against me while I’m sleeping, 13 years later,” wrote another.

Other comments included, “Only chance I get!” and “the other half was OK with it!”

Katie Russell, spokesperson for Rape Crisis, says she was “not massively surprised” by the findings.

“There isn’t a lot of research into the multiple ways women experience violence from known men, but we do know the numbers are so much higher than any official statistics,” she says.

“Rape myths are still incredibly pervasive. It’s commonly believed that if it’s your boyfriend or your spouse, if you’re sharing a bed, if you’re naked, if you consented earlier, then it can’t be rape.

There is a really big difference between gently waking your partner and initiating sexual activity and actually doing something sexual or penetrating someone while they’re still asleep. (…)

In Martha’s case, the rape happened once, but for some men, seeking sex with a sleeping woman is an active preference, a fetish known as somnophilia.

Svein Overland, a Norwegian psychologist, is one of the few to have studied it – his interest sparked partly by his work in prisons, trying to understand the motivations of sex offenders, and also by his work with victims of what Norwegians call “after-party rapes” – attacks on vulnerable women who were either sleeping or drugged.

Overland believes somnophilia is part of the wider growth of what he calls “one-way sex”.

His research into online porn showed a steep rise over the past decade in categories such as “sleeping sex”, as well as other forms of sex that are based on unresponsiveness, on only meeting your own needs.

(“Flexi dolls” is another example – where women pretend to be sex dolls.)

These preferences overlap with porn itself, says Overland. “With one-way sex, with porn, with masturbation, there’s no dance, no seduction, no interaction and no pressure to perform,” he says.

“The more I looked at this area, the more you see that a lot of men are afraid of having sex.

Society is becoming more pornified but, at the same time, many studies show that people are becoming less sexually active. We have young men buying Viagra, unable to keep an erection.”

A sleeping woman is no threat – she’s absent, an object, a receptacle. (…)

“There seems to be a perception that something like this is a ‘lesser crime’ because it might not be at the hands of a stranger but your partner.

But what would feel worse? Being pickpocketed by a stranger or robbed by someone you love and trust?” she asks.

“The idea that you’re asleep so it didn’t require violence is also very dangerous. Penetrating someone’s body without their permission is an inherently violent act.

“Imagine being asleep and waking to find someone going through your personal things,” she continues. “Now imagine it’s your actual body that has been intruded into.” (…)

“When I first left him, I wouldn’t sleep. I’d lie awake all night and have hallucinations – him raping me.

Those flashbacks, that trauma response, was the mind and body trying to piece things together.

Even now, nine years on, I still wake at two every morning. I don’t even need to check the clock.

We know that the body stores memories of trauma – and I think 2am is when it used to happen.” (…)

In February 2020, she told the jury: “There has never been a part of me that has not been profoundly impacted,” and that in the immediate aftermath, she suffered PTSD and had tried to take her own life.

She said she had felt “unsafe everywhere”, frightened to trust anyone, even her parents."

#article #weaker sex #tw rape #tw suicide

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missbuckyhellfire · 13 days ago

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Cat And Mouse :Emperor Geta (1/?)

Warnings: MANIPULATION (Both ways), The Emperor twins being themselves, Smut, NSFW content, heavy dub/con , Forceful fingering, Flirting, Unwanted advances, some language, heavy drinking, Oral, humping, hair pulling, Long piece (10,000 words!). Message me if I missed anything, Minors Be Gone!

Translations:

Mia Combina: My beloved

Mel: Honey

Hello Everyone!

I know I had said it was going to be a One-shot and this is a long piece. However, I feel that it could be completed as a mini series or maybe with a second part. This piece could be a standalone as well, but I feel that it may be left too open ended for some. Also, I love their dynamic so I am wanting to write more. I will post a poll below for people to vote. If the deadline passes, comments in the piece would be appreciated.

Miss.BuckyHellfire

The great General of Rome has returned to “celebrate” his victories with the city. Or at least that’s how the twin emperors seen it. The reality was much more concerning for the brothers.

For the past few months, a rider with a black horse would rob from the rich and give their spoils of their crimes to the poor. The citizens of Rome supported the rider and would refuse to say anything about them to the officials or even the emperors. In which unfortunately would cost them their lives. They were on their wits end as they wanted to end this once and for all.

The real reason, the one that the brothers wanted to keep to themselves was that they wanted the General to hunt this thief down and bring them to a prison cell where the emperors would take care of them personally.

However, the night before, the rider tried to strike their own home in Palatine Hill. Unfortunately, Emperor Geta was awake and clothed, unlike his brother in a pile of concubines. He seen the figure rush to the door and viewed how the cloaked rider would take down each of his guards with such grace.

The rider was a trained swordsman. This caused great fear in Geta as he panicked and grabbed his own blade by his night stand. He was going to fight them to save his gold. He wasn’t just going to be robbed like the rest of the people before him.

However, by the time he arrived, the rider was gone, only with a trail of blood to take him to General Acacius’s home. Geta, only in a robe, knew what he had to do.

When the General had arrived to greet the emperors the next morning, Geta had personally invited him and his entire family to join for a great feast at Palatine Hill. He wanted to get answers and he knew he was slowly closing in on his prey.

************************************************************************

“Brother what are you looking at?”

“Nothing Carcalla”

That was a lie. The taller emperor had glanced around the room as he sipped from his wine glass. Throughout the crowd of his concubines, soldiers, nobles, and servants, he couldn’t help but keep his eyes on her. The young woman that was with General Acacius. No matter how much he tried to wonder his eyes around, he couldn’t help but make eye contact with her over and over again.repeatedly.

A young woman, with dark hair and fair skin. Gold eyeliner was painted on her eyelids that covered her warm but light brown eyes. Her gold lips formed into a smile as she talked to a few guests eager to get a few moments of her time. The people of Rome were like servants at her feet, wanting to talk to her and listen to her sweet voice. Without saying another word, Geta separated himself from his brother and walked over to the growing crowd . The crowd had separated and allowed Geta to pass through to meet with the woman. The general was less than pleased as he placed his arms around her. Geta immediately had chuckled to himself before he spoke.

“Guess I can see why your father hid you, so you wouldn’t get touched as his finest treasure.” He took her hand and kissed it gently. The general’s eyes never left his. “Where’s your wife General?”

“This is my daughter Sabina. Sabina, this is Emperor Geta.” The general forced a small smile and tried to hide a growl as he heard Geta repeat his daughters name to himself. “She has fallen ill and unable to come today and she sends her regards.”

The emperor took in Sabina’s stola: a vibrant blue with gold accents. Her dark hair was pulled up wearing golden hoops. He seen nothing but innocence in her warm but light brown eyes. He glanced down to her lips as they trembled, intimated by his presence. He took in the oils she wore, they were sweet, the right amount of sweetness that could lead any man to start a war. He did find it odd that the general’s wife wasn’t able to come, but didn’t want to pry just yet, not when he had the opportunity to talk to the general’s daughter.

“Come Sabina, sit with me” Geta had ushered her to go. The general paused and refused to move his hands. He had known Geta long enough that this would just be a simple game for him. He would use his daughter to get closer to him and gods knows what. He was his general already what else would he want from him.

He smirked at the general “you don’t trust me with your greatest gem? I promise to take care of her general.” He pushed the general’s hands off of Sabina and took her to sit down with him.

Sabina’s first instinct was to sit by one of his other concubines out of respect. Her father’s grand speech echoed throughout her head as she had turned around and sat next to a barely clothed concubine. Her father was firm, but kind.

“Before we go in, I want you to know that the Emperors are very persuasive and manipulative they will want to find everything out about you. They are like the gods themselves, but much worse. Promise me, if your called, you keep your mouth shut, keep your secret.”

“I’ll try my best.”

After a few moments, Geta turned to her then shook his head “This wont do.”

“What wont Emperor?” Sabina wasn’t sure what she was talking about. He was not too keen about whatever it was due to his narrowing of his eyebrows. Geta didn’t think a gem like her should be with a bunch of other slaves and toys.

“Come sit with me here.” Geta had patted on his leg. His brother took immediate notice of his actions and leant over to his brother.

“Brother, you can’t be serious”

“Deadly, brother, deadly. Come on Sabina” He patted on his leg again. Not thinking she had much of a choice, she had plopped on his lap and he smirked. He took in her scent again as he chuckled. Now all eyes were on the Emperor, including the General who started to feel a sense of guilt. The concubine had passed a tray of grapes and cheeses to Sabina. She had looked at them for a second taking in the sweet smell of the grapes and cheeses. It was a treat to get this food when it came around.

“Don’t be shy mel, feed me.” Geta, like a snake, wrapped his arms around her as she grabbed the plate and pricked a grape from the platter. His brown eyes watched her as she waited for him to open his mouth. He did nothing of the sort and only mumbled a “tease me”. She had placed the grape on his lips and began to graze the fruit around his lips until he would open his mouth and she plopped it in. He chewed it and swallowed. “give me another Sabina.”

She listened, and gave him each grape until the very last one on a frail branch. He took the small grape into his hands and grazed it against her lips and watched them quiver a bit.

"Open up"

Sabina opened her mouth and he plopped it inside. Snickering, he placed his hands around her neck gently so he could feel her swallow the fruit. She swallowed gently, but Geta found it absolutely fascinating feeling her throat muscles move.

He turned and grabbed his glass of red wine, only half full now. He snickered and pressed the glass against her lips as his grin kept getting wider.

She parted her lips again as he let go of her neck, but refused to let his eyes off of it. He was going to start asking questions, eventually.

He gently tipped the glass so the sweet fluid would enter her mouth. Sabina took every last drop in the cup, with the feeling of the emperors hands in her hair. His hands were soft and gentle, only when he wanted them to be.

Sabina, the fluid was so sweet and intoxicating. She never had a fluid so tasty in her life. She wanted more until it was gone, which had left her with a bit of guilt and curiosity on what the emperor would do next. Geta shook his head. He was impressed how fast it went down, but now he has an idea.

************************************************************************

4 empty glasses were by the emperors chair. None were drunk by the emperor. Sabina thought she could handle a few, but the wine was rather intoxicating. She looked messed up, her hair was messy and her stola's sleeve was loosely over her shoulder as she would let out soft giggles from the affects of the wine. In return Geta would laugh in return. Carcalla watched the entire scene happening, but wasn't too sure what his brother's intentions were with the Generals daughter. Geta did have a collection of concubines to please him but Sabina seems to take a different effect on him.

Geta took in the sight of Sabina, vulnerable and possibly with a loosened tongue. If she wasn't a general's daughter, he would have offered her to be a concubine. Yet, he needed answers.

"So Sabina" he snaked his arms around her tightly, close enough for her to smell his body. "I'm sure your familiar with the rider that's been stealing in Rome."

Sabina closes her eyes for a moment then opens them to meet the eyes of her father from the other end of the room. Panicked, he mouths the words "lie".

She turns to the emperors dark intimidating eyes as he watched every feature of her, seeing if there's something that could be read from her.

"Yes Emperor, I heard tales of the rider who killed some of the emperors men and tried to steal from them. They steal from the rich and give to the poor, what of them?" Sabina looked down as Geta's lips twitched a bit from their response.

The palace didn't give message to the people about the supposed break in. So she knew someone who would do such a thing and would tell her. He began to rub her back a bit and tried to become more soft in his voice.

“Yes, it’s a tragedy, I ran out of my house as soon as I heard the commotion. I was ready to swing my blade at him.” Geta leant to her ear and moved his hands to her shoulders in hopes to ease some sort of confession out of her. Yet before she could speak, the general came to Geta, who was rather distracted.

“ I wish to bring my daughter Sabina home and I will meet you at nightfall to discuss the matters of the thief” His eyes glanced at the glasses and his daughter, who seemed to be feeling the affects of the wine.

Geta paused for a moment and glanced at Sabina. He didn’t want to let her go just yet. “Nonsense, I wish to have her as a guest for a couple nights in the finest suite of my palace. Your wife and yourself are invited as well, but I may be rather distracted by your daughter.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea. People will talk and…”

“Does it look like I care, I am a emperor of Rome, you listen to me, my wish wasn’t a request” Geta shut him off as Carcalla let out a soft chuckle in response . The general nodded and muttered “ My wife is ill so it will be just you and my daughter. I will visit to discuss the matter you wish to talk to me about.”

The emperor clapped his hands together “Perfect! You don’t need to worry about us at all I will take good care of her.”

************************************************************************

To Sabina, this was only part of the job.

First was to lure him in by making herself seem like the perfect servant to the elder brother. He seemed like the more sane, more power hungry and calmer one. He was the logical one in the two but of course was still a threat.

She regretted letting it slip about her past endeavors at Palatine Hill. She knew that she shouldn’t have spoken out about it and has put her family in danger.

Regardless, Geta had ushered the guests out quickly after exchanging some private matters with her father. No surprise that Sabina assumed he was asking him to take the legendary thief down. Little does he know that the general knows of his daughter's adventures and wouldn’t dream of ending it by turning her in. He was the one who supports her anyways.

Carcalla had turned to her during the exchange of words and chuckled. “Don’t get too attached to this lifestyle your going to go back home as soon as Geta is finished with you”

“I am here to serve the emperor and will return home when he sees fit.” It was such a kiss ass attitude but she needed to get on both of their good side if she was to go venturing in the palace on her own.

“Such a fuckin toy, you will fit right in during your stay” The younger emperor shook his head.

Sabina tilted her head at him, toying with him back. “Toy? I don’t understand, my father spoke very rarely on those subject matters.”

Carcalla stood up from the throne and glued his blue eyes with her brown ones. “Don’t toy with me girl. I know your type, your invitation to join our family will be declined soon enough. My brother will come to his senses, you may be nothing more than a concubine to him.” He spat at her.

She hid the smile with a frown and a nod of the head. “ I can promise you that I’m not who you thought I am.” She was so close, she just needed to play along a bit longer and the jewels will be hers.

“We will see about that.” He muttered as he looked down to his feet as Geta returned and waved the general off. Sabina’s father gave one last look to her before he left through the doors. Sabina stood up and Geta wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind, taking in her scent from her hair.

“I’m going to show our guest their room for the next few days. You are welcome to join us.” Geta’s tone wasn’t exactly welcoming, it didn’t sound like he wanted to have his younger brother to join them. Carcalla had mumbled a “No.” before Geta had took a step back and took Sabina’s hand and lead her down the hall.

************************************************************************

Sabina admired the room Geta had granted her by the doorway with him by her side. He watched her intently as she took in the sight of her room.

He kept stating he knew it wasn’t much, but Sabina knew that it was a lie. He knew this was the nicest room that she was ever given. She was admiring the silky bedsheets and lovely balcony with the perfect view of the sunset. The sweet smells of lemon oils had flared the room as well.

However, her eyes grew large at the bucket of swords that were placed in her chambers. Geta meant to have those removed as he didn’t think it was right for a lady to be so close to blades, as it may hurt her. Geta’s eyebrows furrowed as she was walking towards the barrel and picked up a silver blade with fine rubies engraved on them. She knew she was going to take this blade home when this is all over. Geta, shocked and walked over to her and took her hand with the blade on it.

“Do you think this is lady like to be handling blades like this?” Geta tilted his head, his eyes expressing concern, but demanding she drop the blade.

“My father is the general, he taught me how to use blades.” Sabina rolls her eyes. “I can handle myself.”

Geta blinks twice. “ I don’t blame your father for training you to use blades, but your under my wing now. I am sure that your father would appreciate you being of sound mind here.” He snaps his fingers and two guards take the blades away, while Geta yanks the blade from her hand. Before the last blade leaves, he takes one : a gold blade with diamonds engraved into it. He pauses for a moment then sighs, seeing the shock in Sabina’s eyes.

“If you are to find a husband in Rome, you will need to learn to submit. I am sure that your father taught you that.” Geta leans down to her ear in a whisper. He places the sharp weapon on her shoulder as the blades leaves a small cut on her. She doesn’t move as she stays firm in place. “Remember your place, and to not keep secrets from your emperors.”

Sabina nods in the comment as he moves the blade closer to her neck. He tilts his head, watching her throat bob in response. His lips part as though he is going to say something, but he says nothing. He only admires her beauty in the moment.

“So tell me, what do you really know about this thief? You seem to know more than you lead on.” His eyes moves to her light brown eyes checking for any sense of vulnerability or weakness or any hint of the thief’s identity. To him, a woman knowing how to fight well was odd, she was the only swords woman that he known.

Sabina, trying to hide her identity looks into his eyes and gets lost for a second. Why did he look so good but done the wrong things? She had to make up some sort of story fast or else Geta’s kindness may not last long. “ I met him a few months ago.”

The blade was pushed harder against her neck. “Elaborate.” His voice turned into a growl.

“I, uh- met him by a cart by the Colosseum. He was talking about a recent adventure to the locals and I decided to listen in to hear more about it. He and I didn’t really talk about things but he was ambitious.”

His gaze softened a bit “Did you see a glimpse of his face?”

“No, he was wearing a cloak.”

Silence swallowed the room for a second then Geta dropped the blade to the ground. He examined Sabina’s face, he only seen fear in it. However, he thought it was his approach to it. Something told him that there was more to be shared about this but he decided to not pry for now. The emperor admired her for a moment before grabbing her chin. Both of their eyes were glued onto each other for a moment. Brown eyes looking upon to brown eyes. One pair firm with determination to keep her secret while the other pair wanted to expose it.

“Your welcome to stay here for as long as you need to.” He muttered as he placed his soft lips onto her own. He paused for a moment, taking in the taste of her lips. Sabina took in the taste of wine on his lips as well. Geta mumbled something about taking her for a feast later and flashed a smile at her before leaving.

Sabina noticed that Geta forgot to bring the blade with him. However, she was in shock with the emperors actions and determination to figure out her secret. If the kiss was part of the plan or not, she doesn’t care. But she can admit he was a good kisser.

Venus, she needs help.

************************************************************************

Geta met with his brother immediately afterwords to share information about his encounter with Sabina and the information about the thief that they are trying to hunt down.

They were both in Carcalla’s chambers alone as he was explaining his suspicions on Sabina.

“I think there’s more to what she is saying. She is a swordswoman after all, only the insane women are trained with a blade.” Carcalla mumbled.

“Remember brother her father is the general, he may have wanted to keep her safe. Even though one day she will likely be married off.” Geta paused for a moment trying to understand the general’s logic. “Do we know who Sabina’s mother was? “

Carcalla shrugged. “Words go around that he fucked a goddess when he was a young soldier. Would make sense for her beauty, but I think it may be a common whore after too much drinking.”

Geta took in Carcalla’s words in for a moment. How the people would gravel at their feet for Sabina. Her kind smile and skills in swordsmanship. Her overall alluring appearance and personality. It would make sense, but just this alone wouldn’t be enough proof. He knew that he wanted her, even though she does appear stubborn in her own ways.

“How would you feel a alignment with the general brother.” Geta looked at his wine glass for a moment then looked back at him.

Carcalla laughed at him. “You can’t be serious about this brother; I am not going to marry that woman!”

“No, you don’t have to, because I want to.” Geta looked at one of his guards. “Send word out in the morning for the audience of the general.”

“You were suspicious about them now you want to marry the girl? I don’t understand you brother.”

“No,no. She is beautiful and will give me lovely children yes. But it will keep him close until she finally speaks the truth. Maybe more seduction is needed tonight.”

Carcalla nods with the plan then looks away with a wide grin across his face. “Brilliant”

************************************************************************

Sabina was on the ground praying to the gods for the night that was about to come. She needed to make sure that she would be able to get enough gold to feed the temple that was slowly needing more and more donations. Sure nobles and the emperors would visit but a lot of them would provide with other forms of loyalty to this goddess within their bedrooms.

“Venus, mother, please help me with this task. I am doing this for the people of Rome and to keep areas of worship open. I am sure you would rather have a beautiful garden in your name mother rather than the other offerings that are often given to you.” Sabina was referring to the emperors and their concubines. Word has went around that the brothers were loyal followers of Venus, but yet made any approach to visit her temple.

There was no response. As always. She always figured this out. Maybe her father was insane that he told her that he slept with Venus that one night under the evening stars. She didn’t say anything to him until the day Sabina was born then just left her on his doorstep. The general whenever he was asked would say it was from a one night stand and her mother is dead.

However, as time went on, she began to grow in beauty. This is something that was never explicitly addressed but people would come to see her and her generosity. When the twin brothers took over Rome, she felt the need to do more. She wanted to do whatever was needed to ensure that the people of Rome would survive their ruthlessness. So she decided to become a thief of the night and take from the rich to give to the poor, so she could ensure their own wellbeing each night. This eventually went to providing generous donations to the churches as well. Whoever encountered her promised to keep her secret.

She sighed then glanced at the attire that was given to her for the evening diner. She should have known it was going to be a really revealing stola. This one was a red one with a wide enough opening on the top to expose her larger breasts. She sighed heavily then noticed that there were no forms of jewelry to hide her breasts.

So this is what Geta wants.

Sabina sighs. Geta was an attractive man no doubt about it, but she has never been touched by anyone before. From what she seen and heard the entire process looks painful and frankly demeaning to women. She never seen the point of doing it. She honestly planned to keep it until someone worth her while would marry her, or at least offer marriage.

Plus, to Sabina, he seemed demanding and controlling and would likely give her limited rights within the palace. However, she wasn’t going to let Geta see her body that easily. She found some of the makeup provided to her and found gold powder. She painted her nipples with that color in hopes to cover them up enough. She touched up for gold makeup look then waited for the emperors to call her for dinner.

************************************************************************

She smiled throughout the entire meal. She was rather thankful that she wasn’t close enough for Geta to see her sweat across her body. There were the finest foods available in Rome for her to eat from breads, wines to cheeses.

During the entire meal, Geta was watching her intently and so was his brother. All three of them were silent during their dinner in the gardens until Geta finally spoke.

“Sabina that dress compliments you, but didn’t expect you to make it modest.”

“I did so we could focus on the food and not other matters.” Sabina slipped out which gave two disapproved looks back.

“You don’t need to cover up for me Sabina.” Geta states. His tension turned into a smile and he stood up from his chair and approached her hoping to get a better view of her. He was now inches away from her as he took her hand and kissed it firmly. “You are to be my wife as the gods wish.”

Sabina blinked twice. She was not expecting this, she honestly thought he just would want to fuck her and kick her out, like Carcalla said. She glanced at the brother who only exchanged her with a smug grin, taking pleasure in her reaction.

“Wife, my emperor, I didn’t think it would happen. What would the people of Rome think of this? You are marrying the General’s daughter.”

“Would be more ideal than you think Sabina. You are loved by the people. My brother and I have eyes, we aren’t as loved as much. With you, you will help us get Rome’s support. You can help us see what the people of Rome need while we keep our power.” Geta suggested. Sabina believed everything until the last part about helping the people, Sabina knew that they wouldn’t do that.

“Sure helping the people, that means losing some of your wealth.” She spat. As soon as those last words came out of her mouth, Geta’s hands wrapped around her throat not tight, but as a warning to her.

“This offer is too good to refuse. You will help us. The gods have made it so.”Geta warned under his breath. “Regardless of what you say, you will be my wife.”

Sabina had to think for a moment. Marriage would mean putting up with Geta for a bit until someone decides to kill him and his brother. Which at the pace they are going wont be for much longer. And it would also mean unlimited gold to smuggle to people in need. Which would help Rome.

“Regardless, I guess I have to accept.”

Geta release her and smiled. “Excellent, now if you follow me I will show you where you will be staying.”

“I thought I was staying in the guest room” Sabina muttered.

“Oh no, your staying with me now.” That caused a ocean of anxiety flood her stomach. She was about to be completely alone with the emperor in his chambers.

************************************************************************

The emperor opened the door to his chambers. He was quiet for a moment and allowed Sabina to take in the room. It was a rather lovely room, more expensive than the guest room that she was in earlier. With the silk, there was fur pillows and a thick blanket on top. His wardrobe was open and shown how lovely it was with the fine fabrics. His room smelt of oils, wine and cheese. Around them were a ray of windows separated by pillars.

“It’s a lovely room” Sabina finally says.

“It’s ours now.” Geta assured as he gestured Sabina to follow him to the bed to take in the soft blankets. She took them in and sighed at the comfort. He nodded at the guards to be dismissed as the two could talk. His eyes were glued onto her lips. “Tell me, what do you like doing for fun? Besides sword play?”

“Well I do like riding horses, I prefer riding with Luna, my horse.”

“I like riding horses too, what type of horse are they?” Geta sincerely was interested in the horse as it was nice to see that they had common interests. However, he shouldn’t be surprised as she was the generals daughter.

“She’s a black mare, rather sweet and even tempered.” Sabina cut herself off right there. Remembering the legends they say about her and her legendary black horse. She hoped that Geta didn’t catch on. But with the look that she saw in his eyes, she knew that he did.

He was no fool. The black horse, following the mare to the generals home. She was a skilled swords women. His jaw tightened as he tried to hide his suspicions of her. There was only one thing left to do and with no one else around, he can find out for sure.

“Take off your clothes.” Geta stated plainly.

“ I am pure emperor I…” Sabina tried to push it off against his suspicions and tried to change the subject. She didn’t feel ready for this at all but she felt a firm grip on her shoulders.

“Don’t make me repeat again. I want to see all of you!” Geta stated as he tugged on her stola. She jumped a bit before she stepped back to remove the stola. Geta’s eyes were hungry, watching her form be revealed to him. She realised what he was doing and pushed her hair back so her back wound would not be revealed. Yet, she was completely bare in front of him, except for the gold makeup that covered her nipples.

“Turn around.” He instructed. She did as he instructed, and her ass was in view to him. His eyes took her in and admired all of the curves of her body, the moles and scars that were left on her back.

“You have a lot of scars on your moles as well.” He commented. Sabina took a deep breath and had to think fast.

“Everyone trained with a blade have some scars to show their loyalty and determination of the craft emperor.” She responded.

“Fair ,” he grabbed her hair and then he saw it. A fresh blade wound stitched up and reeking of the scent of old blood. He couldn’t get his eyes off it. He literally has his thief in his hands. He pushed her down as he got a small whimper from her he caged her in.

The cat finally caught the mouse.

“Emperor I….”

“IT was you!” Geta spat. “I wanted to deny that a beauty like you could do such a crime to Rome yet here we are!” His hand was one again around his neck. “Explain yourself or I will see to it that your execution is going to be very painful.”

Sabina had to collect her thoughts for a moment. She only had one shot at this and to basically tell her life story to the emperor is no easy feat. Also, she had to persuade him to let her live as well. She didn’t want to bring out her maternal parentage to him but at this point she may not have a choice.

“Why would you do that? The citizens of Rome would revolt. People love me for what I do. I provide to them what they clearly need. You lack the knowledge and ability to understand that your people are starving and dying because of your foolishness. I came in to help them when you and your speakers of Rome are more focused on military warfare. You are also in conflict with with a demigod of Venus and I do not think that you want to anger my father who is beloved by everyone in Rome.” Sabina felt bratty for saying it like that but if she gets killed for it, so be it.

“You have some nerve for saying that.” His grip on her throat tightened.

“You must hear it.”

Silence.

He seen her the way she truly was now. A woman who was looking out for her people and went through great lengths to do it. However, she was his enemy, and nothing will help from being punished for her crimes. “Venus is your mother.” Geta interjected. “The goddess of love, beauty, desire, sex, fertility, prosperity and victory. Should have known.” He placed a faint smile on his lips. “Your mother has yet to grace me with any good thing in my life. Lots of sex, beauty and victory are the only thing your supposed mother has blessed me with. Yet, I want a wife, and you are in a unfortunate situation mia columba, you are going to suffer for your crimes!"

The words stung to her as he let go of her neck. He wasn’t going to let her walk from this. Absolutely not. He shouted for the guards to arrest her, which was almost immediately.

************************************************************************

Sabina was alone in a cell, hearing the sounds of shouting and smelling the smoke from the people of Rome rioting outside of her cell. Word went around fast in the city and everyone was there to support her.

Geta was on the upper floor, watching everyone riot for the freedom of the demigoddess. As soon as word came, the general had rushed to his daughter’s aid but was immediately stopped by the emperor who was fuming towards him as well. The general had pleaded for his daughters life, even offering to be charged instead. However, his fury was too intense and he wanted to watch the two suffer.

“Please she’s my daughter, take me instead!”

“No! You should have watched her more closely and now she is going to be punished.” Geta snapped back at him. “To think she was going to be the empress of Rome.”

The general looked at Macrinus, a advisor to the emperors. The look was a simple plea for him to let her go. The advisor nodded and cleared his throat. “You still could still marry her.”

“Repeat?” Geta’s brows furrowed.

“You are not getting a good reputation with Rome. You need someone to provide a good image. Sure she was a thief, but she is loved by the people of Rome. Killing her will only result in your downfall. Perhaps even tonight with your head rolling down the steps of this building. But if you marry her, and make sure she keeps her public appearances, your people will be on their feet. Having a demigoddess as a wife will only bring more power., even though you hate her mother.” He stated and the general hated the proposal, but he didn’t have much choice.

“Gain reputation and use her as a puppet to gain power from Rome.” Geta summarized his grin grew wide. “Bring me to the cell, I wish to speak to her.”

************************************************************************

Sabina was alone in her cell with Geta. She was still nude from earlier and stunk of the odor within the cell. She immediately spat on the floor as Geta chuckled. He slowly walked towards her, watching her tremble. She refused to look at him, she knew this can’t be good.

“Oh my sweet Sabina, the sun to my moon. You will live to see another day.” His hand had cusped her face gently. Brown eyes are now looking into brown watery eyes. “No more tears in this cell you are going home.” His voice was like honey, it drew her in.

She lit up as she heard those words. She thought of her home with her father and his wife. The warm pastures and her horse Luna waiting for her. How she would ride again. “Is my father here to take me home?”

“Why would your father return you home? I, your husband will.” He stated proudly, his hand now going lower down to her neck, feeling her pulse. “We are still to be married.”

“You have forgiven me of my crimes?” She squeaked as he moved his hands lower to one of her breasts. He didn’t grab them, rather let his fingers trace her nipple.

He sighed. “Forgiveness is such as light word, you are to be my wife still, the Emperess of Rome.” His hands lowered to her waist, he pulls her in to feel her body against his. She tried to squirm away he pulled onto her tighter. “Resist my offer and you will see your mother sooner than you think.” It was in a gentle tone, but it was indeed a threat. His hands lowered down her body to her ass. His ringed hand slapped her ass so hard that it was heard a few cells over, followed by Sabina’s high pitch scream.

“Disobedience is punishment and if frequently done, death.” He reached to find her core and inserted a finger inside, grinning when he heard the breathy gasp from Sabina’s lips. Her mouth was open, she was vulnerable now. Geta found her weak point. He held it there for a moment before he began to slowly move it in and out. This only caused her to make more noise.

“Please stop!” She pleaded.

“Please Stop!” Geta mimicked. “No! Please stop stealing! I wouldn’t have patience for you if you had no use to me. But you do and I command you to listen and submit to me.” He moved his pace faster inside of her.

“You have no knowledge on my powers Geta.” She tried to warn but instead became breathless due to the amount of pleasure that Geta was giving her.

“I may not, but I know how to persuade a powerful woman.” He growled in her ears. She had no reaction but to tug on his strawberry blonde hair as he curled his fingers inside of her as she felt a small knot start to form. “By making them feel something.”

Geta’s eyes darkened as he watched her. So vulnerable, so submissive, yet so powerful. She was puddy in his hands if he could prove himself to her. He watched as she climaxed, her world shattered around her. She took heavy breaths and Geta smiled even wider than before. “I think we are going to make a good team.”

Sabina had no choice but to nod, regardless of how good the fingering was. She wanted to go home. For now, she only wanted to get off the peak of pleasure that Geta put her into.

“What’s the matter, never been touched inside before?” Geta cocked a brow.

Sabina was silent as he removed his finger and pressed it against his lips to have a taste. Once her juices had touched his tongue he let out a soft moan. He complimented on the tastes of lemon and sweets. ‘Speak up.”

“No Emperor.” Sabina said. Geta didn’t say anything else before walking out of the cell, waving his guards over to bring her back to the palace.

************************************************************************

Geta and Sabina had a extravagant, very public wedding ceremony the next day. Given with the amount of time they had. Geta wanted to at least make sure that the wedding would meet to the emperors standards. He ensured that there were women serving food, wine and entertainment. He invited all of the highest nobles to the ceremony, including her family. Sure it was a last minute ceremony, but Geta had standards.

Sabina was decorated in makeup that matched Geta’s. Her eyes were darkened with a smoky shadow with a tint of golden eyeliner. Her lips were left bare with a faint lip oil covering them. Her dress was white with golden accents all over it and her hair was pulled up to reveal her neck. This didn’t go without notice that a few tears would shed on her face. She wanted to go home. She didn’t want any of this. However, she was caught and had to face the consequences.

Geta was in a matching white robe and makeup done the same. He only seen this as a duty and a way to serve punishment to the family. He would admit that she was an attractive being, but that was only a bonus of the situation.

The ceremony was very short and brief, the emperor had no choice to. The citizens were protesting outside of the door, trying to set their goddess free. So Geta made sure the ceremony was enough to legally bind them and that was it. He wouldn’t want to loose his head today, he just wanted to have enough proof with Sabina was his wife, his empress.

When vows were exchanged, all Sabina could do was nod. She had nothing else to say. Her eyes kept looking into the sad eyes of her father and his wife. The three of them knew they were in trouble, and this was their punishment. She wondered what her mother thought of all this.

Once all was said and done, Emperor Geta gave Sabina a kiss on the lips. This kiss was more harsh, as though it was sealing the contract that was implemented between the two of them. It didn’t last longer that a few moments before Sabina pushed away. Carcalla, who was the prime witness of the ceremony stood by his brother and shouted “ALL HAIL EMPEROR GETA, HIS WIFE EMPRESS SABINA AND EMPEROR CARCALLA”.

The crowd repeated the praises three times before realising how silent the crowd was outside. It was almost as though they given up and were preparing to leave. Geta and Carcalla smiled at each other, giving each other a knowing look.

A female concubine came to Geta with a cake of emmer, of the wheat kind. Geta took it from her hands and watched her walk away. He realised Sabina wasn’t make eye contact with him so he tried to lovingly get her to look at him, while it was being rather forced. He broke the emmer above her head and he watched it crumble around her.

As they were on the ground taking the cake around them, Geta wrapped his hand on hers. “Remember your mine, you need to play the part.”

************************************************************************

The rest of the wedding went by smoothly, there were various guests congratulating the couple that were hardly separated. Geta had his arm wrapped around her the entire time, ensuring that no one had a plan to steal his new empress away.

Her father and his wife came by to “congratulate” the couple but only discussed plans for future meetings. From her father’s eyes, she could tell that he far from approves of this match and hopes something dreadful will happen to him in the future so she would be free. Through a short discussion, Geta had sent them to talk with the other officials.

Geta had to excuse himself for a moment then Carcalla had quickly replaced him with a breath of strong wine and a fresh cup in hand. He was quite giggly, which had concerned Sabina.

“Welcome to the family sister, I had my doubts but you survived.” He shrugged. Sabina politely smiled at him, sensing the uneasy tension between the two. They hardly spoke to each other, yet there was strong tension.

“I suppose it is safe to call you brother, but I prefer Carcalla. It is however whatever you wish.” Sabina bowed her head.

“I prefer either. But I also wanted to propose.” Carcalla grinned as he took a step closer to her. “Just because your married to my brother, doesn’t mean you can’t warm my bed.”

“Excuse me?” Sabina hardly choked out.

“Geta can be busy and women, such as yourself should be treasured. This marriage may be of convivence and power but that a women should not be abandoned.” His voice was lower then before he could add onto his point, Macrinus placed a hand on his shoulder. Sabina never met the advisor up close. He made eye contact and smiled at her for a moment.

“I think you should go and sit down emperor, the entertainment is about to start. “ He ushered him to sit down. While hesitant at first, Carcalla sat next to his concubines.

“I apologize empress. Sometimes your husband’s brother can be quite imaginative.” He smiled at her. “You are quite the beauty, so mysterious and so strong. The heart of a rebel thief of Rome” He muttered, taking a sip from his glass.

Sabina sighed. Of course he knew who she was before this entire thing. “Macrinus, how should I address you, high advisor Macrinus, or….”

“Just Macrinus. It is I who should be calling you the highest of honors.” He grinned as he kissed the front of her hand. “For I am just your servant, rebellious Emperess.”

“Macrinus, it is an honor to meet you. I….”

Geta snuck up behind her and wrapped his arm around her once again. “She is no longer a rebel, she is my wife and one day, she will provide me with heirs to Rome to provide order.” His grip tightened on her and Macrinus had noticed immediately. The advisor mumbled a “very well” before glancing at Sabina, providing a final bow and walked away.

Something told Sabina she was going to be talking again to him real soon.

************************************************************************

The ceremony ended slowly as the guests left to their homes or rented rooms respectfully. Geta and Sabina personally thanked everyone to this joyous occasion.

Only that it wasn’t joyous to either of them.

Once everyone left, Carcalla excused himself with some concubines as they went off to their own endeavours as he called it. Carcalla’s eyes, however didn’t leave her as he left. Geta let out a heavy sigh as soon as it was the two of them.

He closed his eyes for a moment just to take in the peace. “Finally, it is over.”

“I suppose it is, I guess that people of Rome will be at your feet as I am your bride.” Sabina looked down at her feet. She knows what is to come, her responsibilities and expectations but she wasn’t sure what was to become of her today.

“They will be, with you allied with me, adopting our customs. Your going to be a powerful empress.”He said, placing the palm of his hand under her chin. She looked up at him as he gave a smug smile. “You are not a prisoner here, but rather my wife. I expect you to behave as much and to be honest with me.”

All Sabina could do was nod. She knew that if he tried anything, the people of Rome would revolt. She only wanted to be at peace, and only take what her people needed.

Geta then took her by the hand and lead them to their chambers. Sabina had felt her heart start pacing. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for this, for anything regarding her marriage duties. Yet, she knew it was expected of her.

He closed the door behind her then he smiled at her. He reached to remove her robe, then he stopped. He seen the fear in her eyes and realised that only one party would enjoy it. He recalled the events from the night before and sighed.

The Emperor couldn’t do this, she wasn’t ready or even wanted to do it. He sighed and took off his ceremonial robes and looked at Sabina, who still refused to look at him.

“You know we don’t have to do this.” He said in a low tone.

“We must it’s part of customs….” Sabina began but Geta shushed her.

“I know, but we don’t have to. You are the Emperess, whatever you say happens with exceptions.” He muttered, reminding her of her place. He kissed her hand and waited for her response. He knew that she was his, but he didn’t want to force her.

“I.. don’t believe I am ready yet to partake in such activities.” Sabina said after a short pause. Geta nodded and understood what she meant. She then cleared her throat “However, I did enjoy the activity that we partook last night.”

Geta blinked twice. He was going to apologize. He knew he was too forceful and aggressive towards her in the cell. He knew that it was his rage that consumed him, but now that he has her, he can watch her very carefully.

“I may prefer it a bit intense when it comes to pleasure.” She leans to his ear and whispers. She was insanely nervous, but she did like how he made her feel. Maybe she liked being treated like that, whose to say. But there was something that grew between her legs after that night. She wanted more, but she was afraid.

Geta’s eyes widened at her confession. Hearing a woman, say that was news to him. Sure, he had his concubines, where he could go for hours railing them from the back, hearing them wail in pleasure. But he was a bit surprised. He mumbled a “forgive me Venus” before he began kissing her neck.

Sabina felt the Emperor’s lips on her neck. She let out a soft whimper from the sense of ecstasy from it. There were parts of her that told her to run away to hide but other parts of her ensured her that she was safe with him. She also had to play the game as well, she still had to help her people.

Geta grabbed her by her hips and began to walk her to the bed, taking his time with it. His lips never left her neck as his lips crawled to her collarbone. She had now idea how far from the door she moved until she felt the bed from the back of her knees. She had felt him push her down on the soft mattress and she had a moment to relax from the soft fabrics. The two looked at each other for a moment before he began to take off her ritual stola, once again admiring her body.

“You are made by the gods, blessed by them.” He muttered as he flicked his tongue against her nipple, his lips curling as he seen how she squirmed by his touch. Her mouth gasped open as he let out a soft groan against her nipple. He began sucking it, testing the waters, she let out a loud moan. He grazed the sides of her body, taking her all in.

His lips trailed down to her stomach then admired her pussy, and admired it like a work of art. His brown eyes kept looking at her, watching her reaction. He liked it rough sure, but he wanted to make sure she was going to enjoy it as well. Any trace of pain, he was going to back out. The last thing he would want is Venus, who already hates him to curse him for doing wrong to her daughter.

If she was her child.

Geta took the chance and licked her pussy. It was a quick swipe, and Sabina squealed in response. He took a moment to take it in then did it again, with a similar response from her. All he was doing was test the waters and tasting her pussy. She was divine, even by her taste. He had to have more, so he began to devour her pussy.

Sabina felt strange, but in a good way. She was full of pleasure, and it felt insanely good on herself. She felt a glow around her body as she had an emperor eating her out. She felt insanely powerful with this man completely at her mercy. She wrapped her legs around him, which only made him dive further into her pussy. He muttered how her pussy tasted like the lemons he tasted the previous night in only which he would chuckle with himself. She felt a sense of pleasure that was ongoing then suddenly it vanished with the absence of his tongue.

Before she could say anything, Geta flipped her to her stomach. There was a pause, and the subtle sound of his robes being dropped. All Sabina did was shake her head then he nodded in understanding.

“I see.” The emperor muttered. There was a short period of silence. The emperor was a man of his word, and he didn’t want to scare off his new bride too soon. However, he wanted to play around with her. He walked to the corner of his bed then stood up. His eyes not loosing contact with her. His brown eyes, once full of light were dark.

“Sit on my lap.” He said sternly. Sabina felt her heart drop at the site of the emperor of Rome. He was once so proud and dashing in his outfits. Now, he is bare, vulnerable to her, asking to be tormented by her. She glanced at his cock that had curly strawberry blonde hairs attached. She has seen one before, but nothing like this. Her cheeks turned red as she watched his chest heave.

It wasn’t a suggestion, so she hopped onto his upper thigh as she took in his scent. The main smell was heavy wine and the oils he put onto himself prior to the ceremony. She got herself comfortable then she felt him begin to move his leg up and down. A grin spread across his face as he watched her tits jiggle from the movement. He repeated it again and noticed how she grinned in response to the pleasure.

“Move.” He commanded. “Up and down my leg.”

She did as was asked of her. Her pussy moved up and down his leg, taking in the feeling. When she was going to lean in to kiss his neck, she felt his hand cusp her dark hair and pull her face back. She gasped at the feeling but her eyes met with his.

“Eyes on me at all times mia Colmbia” He hissed under his breath. She nodded as she made sure to make eye contact with him. She does have power, but even it does have limits.

Brown eyes meet brown eyes again. No matter how much force, or aggression of movement, she was lost in the moment. Even just for a second, she felt invincible, the power she had and how she was desired by one of the emperors of Rome. Even with her crimes, she wasn’t sure if it made her more attractive to him and this was his way of punishing her.

Regardless, Sabina liked it.

She blushed as the movements got more and more intense. Her knot in her stomach was blooming. Once again, once she felt her height of pleasure peak, he pushed her aside, away from his leg. His tongue stuck out and curled to the side as a wide grin spread across.

“Remember, your my wife, I can only make you finish.” He scoffed as Sabina at first wanted to resort to violence. A simple slap across the face would do, but no. She knew better than that. Instead, she needed to play her cards right with him. Just like he is doing with her. With this game of cat and mouse they are playing, it really does lead to the question who is the cat and who is the mouse.

“Right, sorry husband.” Sabina muttered. Geta nodded in agreement and excused himself. Sabina thought he was going to spend the night with his concubines. She did not want to care, but somehow she did.

It was the perfect time to take some looming jewels.

She got out of her bed and went straight to work, in hopes of taking what she can, bring it to the chapel and donate it. If her husband questions it, she will say it was a donation to the church that clearly needed it. However, she will know the truth.

What was he going to do? Kill her?

************************************************************************

Geta stood by the window, with a wine glass in hand taking in some thoughts while admiring the stars.

What was he going to do with her?

What was she going to do to him?

He knew he should have sent someone to watch over her, but he needed a break from the siren. Geta knew that she was going to take some jewellery and send it off to her church, her people.

Honestly, he couldn’t care less. The jewellery in his room was very little worth to him. He keeps his valuables in a locked safe. The jewellery in that room would be a donation at the very least in the eyes of the emperor. However, if he catches her touch anything of value, she is going to be punished. A discussion will be made between them in the morning.

He called for Carcalla’s attendance. But he was nowhere to be seen. He assumed to he having the audience of his concubines. The last thing he would want to do is to walk in on that scene.

What was he going to do with her? Have a family and children of course when it came down to it. But how was he going to mold her into the woman he wants her to be? Not the thief that she is but someone that would do everything he dreams of and more?

She was perfect, but needed training as Geta saw of it.

He finished the glass of wine then felt someone’s presence in the room with him. He looked around and saw no one. He cleared his throat then let out a soft gasp after feeling a blade down his neck. He didn’t bother turning around, afraid of the consequences of doing so.

“You can take the jewels, mel.” He assumed it was his wife, but the sly chuckle that followed made him realise it wasn’t her. He didn’t budge.

“You really think your wife would do this? She already ran off with your jewels. She’ll be back in the morning though.” Her voice was dark, mellow and sinister. He wanted to ask who they were and what they wanted.

Geta paused for a moment before he could talk, the blade dug into his skin. He let out a soft yelp.

“I am going to do the talking. I will keep it simple for you to understand. Don’t. Hurt. My niece! Her mother is already at her wits end with this grand scheme of yours. She doesn’t wish her daughter to get hurt you see and son of whore emperors like you seem to think you can meddle with us without consequences. This is your one and only warning Geta.”

Before he could respond, he felt her presence gone. He was freaked out, wondering who it was and why they came at this hour. Yet, he only looked at his glass.

Perhaps he gifted himself too much with the wine.

He smirked to himself and sighed. This sounds more like a discussion with the wife in the morning.

“Emperor your neck.” He heard Macrinus say.

Geta turned around and sighed at him. “I am fine, did you see anyone run off from this direction?”. He was looking around which had Macrinus concerned.

The advisor scrunched his brows “No, no I haven’t Emperor. Why should we send to search for them?”

Geta nodded as the advisor walked closer to him. “I would have thought you would spend the night with your wife, not out here.”

There was a pause as he looked down to his feet. “I did, she’s asleep now.” He knew that wasn’t the case, but he didn’t want anyone to know that he will need to punish her further for her crimes. He didn’t want the people of Rome to be angry.

Now he thought he pissed the gods off too.

#emperor geta x oc #emperor geta smut #emperor geta imagine #emperor geta #emperor caracalla #gladiator ii

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goddessofroyalty · 29 days ago

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Jayce getting separation anxiety after the invasion. Holding Viktor and his kids tight, having nightmares about loosing them.

Jayce started having the nightmares after Viktor left.

Actually, Jayce possibly started having the nightmares when they realized Ambessa's intentions were less than friendly. There is a reason, afterall, that he decides to agree to weaponise Hextech despite knowing (and deep-down agreeing with) Viktor's stance on it. And it's not just because Mel is in one ear telling him they need something more if they stand a chance against her mother and Silco is in the other commenting on how despite all his power it looks like he'll be unable to protect his family. But the fact that not even in his sleep can he escape the fear that Viktor and their pup will be taken from him probably is what pushed him over the line to making Hextech guns.

After Viktor leaves the nightmares definitively get a new flavor because it's around this point that Viktor's sickness is really starting to take it's toll. And, yes, they were already investigating ways to save him and Jayce is sure that won't have stopped just because Viktor has moved back with his parents. But he doesn't know what's happening and can't see Viktor to reassure himself that at least for now he's alive and there is hope. So his mind is taking that and turning it into more fuel for the nightmares.

The night before the final custody handover of Naph before the Occupation starts I don't think Jayce sleeps at all. Too afraid (and paranoid) that something will happen before Naph is (more) safe in Zaun.

And then the Occupation starts. And I don't think Ambessa is above political prisoners. So while for now Viktor and Naph (and Amaranthine once Mel stresses to Jayce the importance of her being outside Ambessa's reach) are safe in the Undercity Jayce's dreams keep showing him what might happen if Ambessa manages to get a hold of them.

Once he finally gets down to Zaun himself he's a wreck. And his separation anxiety (which honestly he was already a little prone to before Ambessa even came to town) is at it's max. He can't sleep unless Viktor and the kids are with him and if he wakes up and one of them isn't there he definitively panics.

Viktor probably only becomes aware of the nightmares at all after Jayce makes it down to Zaun during the Occupation. Or at least become aware of how bad they were. Jayce had tried to hide the early ones because he hadn't wanted to worry Viktor.

Viktor does understand the fear - he grew up constantly aware that at any point he could lose his parents because of their Revolution. But I don't think he knows how to help Jayce other than to comfort him in the moments when he wakes from the nightmares. Partially because it was such a constant in his life he learned to ignore it from very young. Partially because he's actually more worried about Jayce (who only has his hammer despite planning to try and take back Piltover) than himself (who doesn't go into confrontations without his full mech-suit of armour) and the kids (who are staying in the most heavily defended part of Zaun).

#Zaun Family #Arcane #Arcane mpreg #mpreg #Jayvik #Jayce Talis #Viktor Arcane #Ramblings of the Goddess #Q and A with the Goddess #Anon question

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biscuitbox23 · 1 year ago

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The other woman.

Summary: The other woman will spend her life alone…

Authors Note: am back with another fic. I always thought about Lori and Shane and whatever happens, it’s always the song ‘The other woman’ from Lana del Rey. Poor rick :( in this case I wanted it to be like Rick still dealing with the grief and loss of his wife while Y/n fills in the gap because we all know Rick would NEVER EVER cheat on Lori.

Warnings: Suggestive themes but no actual smut comes in (still be cautious with this), angst, unrequited love. If I missed anything don’t be shy to comment on it, please do.

word count: 1.8k

The other woman has time to manicure her nails The other woman is perfect where her rival fails And she's never seen with pin curls in her hair anywhere.

You can almost feel his gaze in your cell room. You lay on your belly on the bed as you flipped through old gossip magazines like the ones you'd see in the front of a convenience store. It had radiant colors and models, actresses, you name it. It didn't help take away the longing ogling at you as you stared back at him, putting your magazine down.

It didn't help that you had your pajamas still on. It was a small tank top with a lace neckline with matching shorts. It was silky, and it hugged onto your skin snuggly. It was coral-colored. It was Rick's favorite. It was no surprise. You liked to get his attention from time to time.

You tried to put on this unrecognizable facade of cluelessness. It made you look more compliant. You like to paint your nails as leisure while everyone does their business and the jobs they have to contribute to the prison. You loved to feel pretty. Even at times like this, where you kill or get killed.

You'd see Rick pace around the prison like a madman. Carl had to deal with losing his mother. You didn't blame him. Rick was married to her for a long time. Sometimes, the widower would scream at nothing. It would wake you up in the night. Now you warm his bed.

The other woman enchants her clothes with French perfume The other woman keeps fresh cut flowers in each room And there are never toys that's scattered everywhere.

You always kept yourself clean. It was important. You can never go a week without showering. Ever since the apocalypse, it has been difficult for you. So you tried your best to smell good and be presentable for yourself. You kept your cell tidy and pristine, too. You cared for Judith when Beth had to spend some time with her father, Hershel. Play her, dress her, change her, almost as if you were her mother. You only did it so you could contribute to the group. You did not want to get kicked out like last time.

You were being weak and useless. That was what your last group would say. It was not your fault. You realize they made you live bait. Then you found Rick just a few days later. Unfortunately, Rick was not feeling so well when you came.

You had always had an odd attraction to him. At first, you would hate him for being rude to you, then feel your heart pull towards him. You understood his grief, though. The death of his wife brought the worst in him. You wanted to fix it, somehow.

So you tried your best to make up for it. Tidying cells, checking up on people, eating less so the rest of the group can have more rations. You wanted to fit in, to feel a part of it. The people were genuine, especially Carol. You felt his presence in every corner of the prison. You did not mind it. You would feel your core start to feel something else.

But it was never you who he was imagining. Was it? Whenever both of you share the night.

In sleepless nights with him, you can feel his breath on your ear, whispering honeyed words and insincere thoughts while his hands anticipate the need to hold your flesh as his body towers over you. Sometimes, you wonder what was going on in his mind, whether it was you or his deceased lover whom he sees underneath him. The simple acknowledgment of your company or the unending bereavement that engulfed his very own consciousness. The ghost of the prison halls haunted by his late wife.

As he was by your side, it was almost as if he was not the same madman as he was in the first few days of your arrival. He was gentle and careful with you, like a craftsman handling a porcelain doll, unlike the man who yelled at you for arriving at their prison.

He would lie next to you. He still had his wedding band. You thought about removing it without him noticing. You knew it was wrong to think that way, but you could not help it. You wanted him for yourself, but you also did not want to hurt him. You did not want to be the cause of any more pain in his life. You pushed those thoughts aside and tried to focus on being a good member.

The wedding band on his finger was a cue of his wife, a memory forever etched in his mind. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy whenever you caught a glimpse of it, knowing that you could never replace what he had lost. Despite your desires, you made a conscious effort to act as support and to be there for his and Lori's baby, even Carl. You knew that his healing process would take time, but you were willing to be patient, even if it meant that you could never have him for yourself.

And when her old man comes to call He finds her waiting like a lonesome queen 'Cause to be by her side It's such a change from old routine

There are nights when you think he will finally confess his feelings towards you. The strong emotions that both of you shared mutually would finally be real all this time. The longing melancholy that you endured to feel him again. Things that only the other woman can feel.

You're lying down on the empty cot that held your tired body. The blanket lazily covered your body as you stared at the prison ceiling. You breathe rapidly, and your chest heaves as your eyes wander on Rick's body, glistening in the faint glow of the candle.

You'd be his if he asked you to.

He wouldn't be willing to do that for you. It's been only a few months since Lori's demise, his beloved partner. It's a woman you always envied despite her absence. The grief is still fresh, and he hasn't had enough time to heal yet.

As you lay there, watching Rick dress himself up and ready to leave, you couldn't help but wonder if there was a chance for something more between you two. However, deep down, you knew it was only a fantasy that would never come true. Despite the pain of unrequited love, you couldn't help but admire the man in front of you with his charming grace and loving body, grateful for the moments you shared even if they were limited.

Amidst a world ravaged by the undead, it felt like chasing after your heart's desires was a lost cause. You could only yearn for what you could have had. If only the world wasn't a grim and hopeless place you might have been Rick's beloved wife by now. You could have felt his longing gaze upon you as your bodies entwined in a loving moment, free from the fear and chaos that had consumed the world around you.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh The other woman will always cry herself to sleep The other woman will never have his love to keep And as the years go by, the other woman will spend her life alone.

Alone and heartbroken, you don't find comfort in your cell room after he left. Your body aches with humiliation as you feel your eyes well up. They sting in pain as tears form and trickle down your rosy cheeks and your neck, which bruised under his lustrous kisses.

The way he groans Lori's name from time to time, the way he shuts his eyes almost throughout the night as he claims your body for himself. You hated it all and despised Rick for it. Oh, but how could you hate him? It was impossible for you, wrapped around his finger like a pathetic toy used for his desire.

But he doesn't realize it. You were afraid to point it out, terrified that he would stop seeing you every night.

It is as if you longed for this twisted idea of true love. Sleeping with a widower, knowing you can't have his love for yourself. Yet, it entices you. Every night you spend with him, every chance you get. You did not like that feeling at all. Whatever happened, his heart belonged to his deceased wife. Someone he will never touch, kiss, hold.

How could Rick leave you yearning for him again and again? Disappearing as the sun rises, pretend like nothing is going on between you and him. That left you sobbing pathetically on your cot like a crybaby. You will never get the luxury of holding hands, cuddling with him on the bed, and sharing kisses. You longed for everything truly romantic, wishing what you had with Rick was similar to what Glenn and Maggie had.

Days passed, and you and Rick slowly stopped seeing each other every night. He started to heal from his grief a bit. He acknowledges you as a member, but never more than that, despite the intimacy both of you shared during his times of mental anguish.

Alone.

During your childhood, you seldom had any friends. Even if you did manage to find someone to hang out with, your friendship was usually brief and fleeting. Your parents had their hands full with your younger siblings, and you often found yourself waiting alone for bedtime stories. Solitude became your constant companion until the apocalypse turned your world upside down.

It's an unfortunate reality that every person we love will eventually leave us in this world. You've had to face your fair share of losses, starting with the passing of your mother, father, and even your siblings. The apocalypse further compounded your feelings of isolation and grief as you were forced to journey alone, with nobody to rely on but yourself.

Along the way, you encountered a group of people who initially seemed like they could be allies, but it quickly became apparent that their intentions were far from honorable. With no other options, you continued your journey until you eventually stumbled upon a prison that had been into a small group home.

Despite your initial reservations, you soon found yourself safe and protected among the survivors who had made the prison their home. You were grateful to finally have a sense of belonging after so much loss and chaos.

You have been alone your whole life, but you've never felt so lonely as it is now.

———————————————————

A/n: I pictured this so much better than what I thought… I mean it’s not that good, I tried my best since I needed to clear out my WIPs, I’m sorry if this doesn’t meet up to ya’lls standards. I tried making it less sexual but let me know if I should dumb it down a little.

tags : @richardsamboramylove55 @musicownsme

#the walking dead #rick grimes x reader #twd #twd fanfic #andrew lincoln #rick grimes #the walking dead fanfiction #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes x you #twd rick #twd x reader #biscuitwrites

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ewingstan · 1 year ago

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any strong opinions on amy dallon

Feel like answering this is the equivalent of inviting a vampire into my home.

If this is just asking how I personally feel about Amy Dallon the character: I'd say she's among the strongest characters wildbow has written. She was used exceptionally well throughout Worm; in her initial interactions with Taylor, her smugness and petty insults help convince the reader to doubt the use of hero/villain as absolute markers of moral standing. As it goes on, and we see more of Amy's home situation, it becomes more clear how much Amy's haughtiness towards the villains comes from her insecurity; a desperate attempt to differentiate herself from them so that she can feel more like she belongs with the Dallons. It humanizes the heroes—stopping Ward from becoming a simple palette swap story where all the heroes are ontologically evil and the villains are brave noble freedom fighters—while making the hero/villain conceptual framework seem all the more ridiculous and destructive.

Later, around the same time Taylor is talking to Sabah and Lily about how "hero" and "villain" are just labels that don't determine one's morality, Amy is having the same realization—and panicking about it, because it means that being a hero doesn't mean she can't be the horrible person she fears she is. Because while she's figure out that hero/villain doesn't necessarily have any metaphysical weight, she's still sure that good person/bad person are clear ontological categories. And if being a hero doesn't just mean you're a good person, then she might really be the person her parent's treatment of her implies she is. She might actually be in danger of acting on those troubling thoughts that surely no good person would have.

In terms of her Ward stuff, I haven't gotten to the big things people had problems with so I can't comment too much. I think Ward Amy is effective as a villain in Victoria's story, but all the plot points of her allying with Goddess and taking command of the prisoners make sense only for a character whose the villain of Victoria's story, and don't make sense for Amy as we saw her in Worm. These plot points are working off the "person who thinks in terms of good and evil and is convinced she's evil" thing without addressing how by the end stage of worm, we'd seen her attitude had changed and that she'd started to move towards seeing people as not being inherently anything. Moreover, the writing kind of reaffirms the belief that some people are just bad people. I might not have that critique if there was more framing like "Amy is behaving this way because she's been told by everyone that she's villainous and so is falling into the expected role," but that's not really a thing in Ward. Hell, its less of a thing than it was in Worm.

There are shitty things Ward Amy does that I can get behind and say "yeah Worm Amy would do that," like going along with Carol's reconciliation plan and then running after Victoria when she leaves. Sure, she wants to resolve that, that's consistent with the original motivation of the wretchening incident. But most of the Amy writing after that, nah. I'm sympathetic to the "That's a different character" claims for everything past arc nine or so. That's her Noelle clone or something palling around with Goddess. Have Amy step out of the plot after the Dot interlude and ride off into the sunset, and let WB do a compelling pathetic-yet-very hatable villain with some other character.

If this is about recent intra-fandom stuff:

You can point out how a character is described in kinda racist language, both to criticize the text and to analyze what the story is doing with that character. Don't see how that's controversial, not sure how that got turned into "you're saying she's black". Authors making a white character read as bad or degenerate by describing them as sharing traits with black/brown stereotypes is a pretty common trope historically, its worth noting it when it happens.

And while I can see why people could get inspired by some aspect of how Amy is made to feel like a degenerate, and run with it by depicting her as literally dirty/pest-ridden or writing her with more taboo kinks, I don't think such depictions are beyond criticism. I might defend some of them on the basis of alternate readings of the character. If you're doing something with it, using Amy to explore something you're really interested in—there's at least a discussion to be had, and maybe something interesting would come if it. But you can't meet an honest critique of the ideas in your work, or a claim that they make already bad parts of her original depiction worse, by saying "its just a joke." Its art about Amy, there's gonna be ideas and messaging that goes along with it, even without you meaning to put them in. Don't fight that, embrace it! We'll all be better shitposters if we consider our shitposts worthy of critique.

#amy dallon #wildbow #parahumans #wardblr #wormblr #leo reads worm #leo reads ward #leo says

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jackoshadows · 1 year ago

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It's annoying how proactive female protagonists in Asoiaf are often labelled and seen as 'impulsive' by fandom in general. That's never a thing with the male characters. Female characters who get things done, who have agency and want to help people are very often characterized by fandom as wrongly and emotionally reacting to seeing injustice or even when they are engaged in policy making.

Arya is seen as impulsive for stepping in to help Mycah from a sadistic bully. Dany is labelled impulsive for not taking an economics course and reading Karl Marx’s Critique of Political Economy before freeing slaves. One popular post framed Arya and Catelyn as being similar because they apparently run around biting people.

Recall that Catelyn was one of Robb's most important campaign advisers, conducted the diplomatic negotiations for him, wanted less war and more of a peaceful resolution to the conflict and wanted to exchange hostages. And yet this fandom constantly frames the Arya/Cat parallels as them being impulsive and violent.

By the way, Arya does have parallels to Catelyn in terms of their proactiveness in maneuvering in a chauvinistic man's world, their loyalty to family and duty and doing what needs to be done. Fandom, however, always approach the Arya/Cat parallels negatively - as a form of critique of both female characters.

Do these characters have moments where they impulsively react in emotional situations? Yes, like pretty much ALL the characters do in the series. And yet these labels are singularly applied only to the female protagonists.

Arya for example is often careful, analytical and intelligent in her actions. When she escapes KL she carefully considers each step - where to go, where the guards would be, how the guards look, where the guards would search etc. - before planning her move. That's how she was able to outwit the adults like Cersei sending Lannister guards in disguise to catch Arya in enemy territory.

The same is true when Arya escapes Harenhall, where she strategizes, draws up a plan, identifies what she needs and where it is, collects everything and then gives the older boys - Gendry and Hot Pie - instructions on what to do

And then there is the way Arya and Dany are often characterized as violent in a way the male characters never are, when Planetos is a violent, medieval, feudal, grim dark fantasy setting.

To proactively get things done in a violent, patriarchal, chauvinistic world, one often has to engage in violence. Ned, Robert, Stannis, Jon, Robb, Tyrion, Jaime, Theon, Northern lords, NW brothers, KG have all killed people. Arya has to kill a guard to escape her captivity where the most horrible atrocities - including rape and torture - are especially committed on the female prisoners. No one is going to help her, she has to do it herself. And yet because of her gender, she gets condemned as 'violent', 'psychopathic', 'forever damaged', 'should feel guilty and bad about what she did' etc.

As ruler, Daenerys engages in the same medieval, feudal practices that other rules do - we are first introduced to the series' presumable hero Ned Stark, with him chopping off a man's head for desertion. And yet she is seen as violent and tyrannical in a way none of the male rulers are.

I still come across these jokes about Jon Snow counting beets ignoring his chosen one destiny when Daenerys also has an administrative arc in ADwD! Where are all the comments/jokes about Dany's problems with food, trying to grow food, trying to trade for food when she has encountered chosen one prophecy and yet stays behind in Essos doing the same thing Jon Snow is, except ten times harder because Meereen is a city state.

Especially jarring when all of GRRM's comments about ruling focuses on administration and specifically mentions Daenerys story in ADwD again and again. Like this for ex:

“I guess there is an element of fantasy readers that don’t want to see that. I find that fascinating. Seeing someone like Dany actually trying to deal with the vestments of being a queen and getting factions and guilds and [managing the] economy. They burnt all the fields [in Meereen]. They’ve got nothing to import any more. They’re not getting any money. I find this stuff interesting. And fortunately, enough of my readers who love the books do as well.” - GRRM

Dany, Tyrion and Jon's leadership arcs (In ADwD and ACoK) have parallels in that they are mostly of an administrative nature, dealing with money and food, making marriage alliances and unpopular decisions, with characters secretly undermining them. Jon's arc ends with mutineers assassinating him, Dany's arc ends with slavers trying to assassinate her and her fleeing on Drogon and Tyrion's arc ends with the Battle of Blackwater, Tywin coming back and Tyrion losing his power and position. No matter how well they did or didn't do as leaders, there was always someone in the shadows plotting against them, taking them down.

To single out the lead female characters alone as being impulsive and violent for being proactive and doing what needs to be done in order to survive in a violent, patriarchal world is misogyny at it's finest.

#arya stark #daenerys targaryen #catelyn stark #asoiaf

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year ago

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There’s Something About These Grounds… | Tommy Shelby x Mrs Shelby & Reader

Request: no - written for @zablife ‘s 2k celebration and @little-diable ‘s 15k celebration

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Mrs Shelby & Reader

Summary: Mrs Shelby takes a walk and stumbles upon a dark secret that is hidden on the grounds of Arrow House. She's given a warning about the future of her family, a warning that makes her new husband wonder if she should even leave the house at all.

Warnings: language, drinking, smoking, paranormal themes, implications of past and future miscarriages (nothing in detail), implications of suicide (nothing in detail)

Word Count: 3317

A/N: I…I’m not 100% sure what this is, but hey, I finished it - I think we’ll call it my best attempt at writing something that’s the complete opposite of fluff haha. I’ve given Mrs Shelby a name…she’s an OC but reader is also present here. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: Lee and Chi - congratulations on your amazing milestones!! I’m so thankful that you’re both part of this amazing community…I can’t imagine it without you! Thanks also to Chi for allowing me to play around with the prompt - it’s bolded/italcized in the story…I hope I still got the gist of it!

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

The landscape got darker and more overgrown with each step Mrs Shelby took. She wondered why she'd decided to take a walk away from the manor that she resided in. At one point, she even considered abandoning her original idea and turning back to the house. But then she reasoned that anything would be better than being cooped up inside those dark walls for yet another day.

Her marriage to the man who owned the very estate she was walking on, Thomas Shelby, can only be described as a whirlwind. No one in either of their families knew of it happening until after the license was signed and they had taken a trip to Paris. What had bright promises at first now felt like the beginning of a prison sentence for the young woman.

It was Tommy's family that insisted they have the party that was taking place today. The bride was weary about it - she was never one to jump into the spotlight during social events, but Tommy's methods of convincing made it hard to say 'no'. He assured her that she'd be in control; that when she'd say that she'd reached her limit, the party would be over. It eased her worries when she agreed to it, but now that the day of the party was here, she was feeling uneasy once again.

So, in hopes to quell her building nerves, Mrs Shelby decided that she would escape the house and take a walk on its expansive grounds.

The landscape seemed to turn a darker shade of green the further she walked away from the manor, but she reasoned that the worry of being amongst some overgrown trees was affecting her much less than the worry of what would be happening later this evening.

She continued walking until she came upon a pond. The small body of water was surrounded by trees and shrubbery, and the fog that hung low over it added an eerie vibe to the atmosphere. As Mrs Shelby got closer to the pond, she noticed a woman standing in the middle of it.

"Hello?!" she called out, confusing quickly filling her as she walked closer to the water’s edge with caution. "Excuse me," she spoke again when the woman didn't respond or even turn to face her.

From her short distance away, she could see that this lady looked almost white, as if she'd been submerged in the cold water for too long and had lost all color. Her hair was wet and flat on her head, sticking to the skin of her shoulders that could be seen above the water.

Mrs Shelby felt a chill run through her body as she stayed focused on the mysterious woman, who still hadn't moved despite the other making her presence very known. "This is private property, you know," Mrs Shelby tried another direction, hoping that her voice held the authority that was needed to finally make the lady face her. But her words did nothing.

Frustration seeped into her bones as she willed herself to move even closer to the pond's edge. Maybe she didn't hear me, she reasoned as she prepared to call out again. But just as she opened her mouth, the woman completely submerged herself under the water, leaving not a trace of her behind. This made Mrs Shelby frantic. She looked everywhere - even kneeling down on the muddy ground and straining her eyes to see if she could spot her underwater - wondering how the lady could disappear from sight just like that.

The sudden voice that came from behind her made her jump.

"These woods are no one's property, darling." It had to be the woman who was in the water. Mrs Shelby was hesitant to turn and face the person, but when she did, she found the woman, who had disappeared just moments ago, standing beside her. She noticed that she was no longer wet, and was wearing a worn, white slip, something that was too cold to be wearing on a dark, autumn day. "They belong to nature."

"My husband would say differently," Mrs Shelby tried to stay calm, standing up and jutting her chin upwards slightly in hopes it would add to her act of confidence. She didn't want this woman to know that she was actually shaking in her shoes.

"Your husband does not know what he stands for," the woman was quick to say.

"Who-who are you and why are you here?" Mrs Shelby decided to ask, her voice faltering only slightly.

"My name is (Y/N)," the woman responded, "this is my home."

The second part of her statement made Mrs Shelby scoff slightly. "Impossible. My husband and I own these grounds. They've been in his hands for four years now," she spoke in a refuting tone.

"Don't be silly, Eloise. These grounds have changed hands many times," the strange woman countered, uttering a laugh of her own at the face that Mrs Shelby pulled when her name was said.

"How do you know my name?"

"I know things," (Y/N) spoke frankly. "I know things about you, about your husband. I know why your marriage occurred in the manner it did...it's not for the reason you keep telling yourself."

"I don't know what you mean..." Mrs Shelby wasn't sure if she actually wanted clarification.

"Tommy was lonely. He couldn't cope with himself, with his business and its demands. The whores weren't doing it for him anymore, and even though I told him that he could keep coming to see me, it wasn't enough for him. He needed someone who would be by his side constantly. Someone who could appease him physically. It's unclear to me why he chose you...since it seems you'd rather be away from him then by his side." (Y/N) ended her explanation by looking the other woman over, an unimpressed look present on her face.

"He and I love each other," Mrs Shelby tried to be indignant, but she didn't quite believe the declaration herself.

"That's what you try so hard to believe," (Y/N) snorted at the thought.

Mrs Shelby felt slighted by these words. She hastily tried to muster up the ability to take back the conversation, since it was clearly falling into (Y/N)'s hands. "We do. We've spoken of starting a family, of completing our home...a little brother or sister for Charlie." (Y/N) only laughed at what was said. Mrs Shelby scoffed at her reaction. "How dare you react in that way! This is not a laughable matter," she insisted, glaring at the grinning woman.

"You are so naïve to believe that it'll be that simple; that your wishes will be granted," (Y/N) stated, shaking her head. Silly woman, she thought.

"I don't see why they wouldn't be," Mrs Shelby furrowed her eyebrows at the other woman's cryptic statement.

"You've not lived here long enough to know what'll happen...to know what fate befalls every woman that sets foot on this property."

"What are you saying?"

"It's the land, Eloise. It's cursed. It took my babies, and it'll take yours too," (Y/N) words had an ominous tone to them, making Mrs Shelby shiver as she heard them. Nothing could have prepared her for what would come out of the other woman's mouth next: "it kept me here to make sure of it."

A mortified look formed on Mrs Shelby's face while a smirk formed on (Y/N)'s. The former of the two stayed frozen in her spot as the latter slowly retreated back into the trees that surrounded the eerie pond.

Even if Mrs Shelby wanted to, she couldn't ask the strange woman what her ominous message meant because (Y/N) had slipped completely out of sight. She'd practically vanished into thin air.

The conversation left Mrs Shelby reeling; questioning if any of it was even real. She tried blinking her eyes several times, wondering if doing so would do the trick of waking her up. Yes...maybe this is all just a twisted dream. But it wasn't. She was still standing out in the middle of the forest, the fog-covered pond still in front of her; the bottom of her dress still covered in the mud of the bank she kneeled on. So many questions were swirling through her mind as she grappled with what was real and what could possibly be made up.

She knew two things for certain: one, she couldn't stay out here a second longer, and two: she needed to speak to Tommy about this immediately.

Mrs Shelby was completely out of breath when she reached the doors to Arrow House. She rushed inside, squeezing herself through the people who were working hasilty to make sure finishing touches were in place before the party started. She gave them no thought as she frantically looked for her husband, moving so quickly through the crowd that she hadn't noticed he was in front of her until his hands were grabbing hold of her shoulders.

"Where're you running to, love?" Tommy asked, his brows furrowed as he took in the sight of his distraught wife. He watched closely as she took several breaths to calm herself down, and he placed pressure on her collarbones with his thumbs, hoping that it would aid the process.

"Tommy, I...I went out t-to walk and followed the, the path down to the trees, and then I walked further in and I just kept walking until I reached a p-pond, and I, I, I uh I didn't...I didn't..."

"Hey, slow down, Eloise," Tommy cut off his wife's frantic rambles with a steady voice, "catch your breath first before you talk again," he suggested, seeing her nod before he brought his hands from her shoulders up to her cheeks. He caressed them softly as he let his eyes drift over her body. "What's happened, eh? Why is your dress muddy?" he asked, his brows furrowing together again.

"I was telling you, I...I found a pond. And there was a woman in it."

"A woman?" Tommy was taken back by the information.

"Yes. She, she was in the water when I first saw her, but then she came to me and she, she...Tommy, we need to leave. We need to leave here, now," her voice might have been shaky, but she still said the final word with the dire emotion it needed.

"Why would we do that, darling?" he needed to ask, now full of confusion.

"We have to leave here if we want to have the family we talk about. We can't have a baby here, Tommy," the fear filling her body was present in her words.

"You're confusing me, Eloise," he bluntly said, hoping she'd get to the point of her worries and stop dancing around the problem.

"To keep them alive, Tommy," she spoke with a sense of urgency, "there's something in the woods...a woman...she said that she's going to take our babies."

Tommy took a few moments to let what was just said sink in. The cogs in his mind were now turning at the second mention of this woman. He knew now that it was no mistake made by his frantic wife. She must've encountered (Y/N). Just the thought of that happening made his blood run cold. He needed to think of a way to deflect this; to make her believe that this was nothing to be worried about. "I think you might have been outside for too long, love. Why don't you go upstairs and change for the party, eh?" he suggested, his eyebrows raised, showing that even though he'd asked a question, his suggestion wasn't actually up for debate.

"But I didn't...I know it wasn't..."

"Go on, love," he cut her off as she fumbled for the words, nodding his head towards the stairs. "Everyone's almost here."

Mrs Shelby bit on her lip as she fought to keep everything inside. It felt like she was on the brink of a breakdown, and Tommy surely had to see that. Why was he trying to diminish the situation? Didn't he care to know more of why she was reacting the way she was? Did he even want the family they had talked about? All of these questions were bouncing around Mrs Shelby's mind as her husband looked expectantly at her. There was no way that she could bring the conversation back now. It was over.

So she nodded her head ever-so slightly, silently agreeing with what he wanted her to do. That was all Tommy needed from her. He dropped his hold from her, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her lips before he mumbled 'good' and left her side. Mrs Shelby stood there for a moment, still overwhelmed from everything that had happened. But there was only one thing she could do now: get ready for the party and hope for the best.

"Fuck," Tommy breathed as he paced the floor of his office. He brought the glass of whiskey up to his lips and drank the rest of it, setting the glass down just as the door to the room opened.

"Frances said you needed me," the voice of his sister called out before she walked in from behind the door.

"Yes, come in," Tommy answered, waving his hand to her even though she'd already entered the room, "shut the door," he said then, fishing the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"What's going on?" Ada decided to get right to the point. She was never one for beating around the bush, especially when her brother was so clearly being affected by something.

"Eloise just returned from a walk. She managed to find the pond," Tommy started, running his hand along the back of his head as he looked to the ground with a huff. His statement may have been vague, but Ada knew exactly what he was getting at.

"Oh, Tommy," she sighed in dismay. She watched her brother then, now seeing the stress and worry that was so clearly etched into his features.

"She told me she met the woman and that she talked to her," he gave more detail, sitting down on the couch with a sigh. "I don't know what I'm going to do to cover this up," he added, bringing the cigarette to his lips to take a long drag.

Ada stood in her spot, her arms crossed as she observed her brother. It didn't take much to notice that he’d already given this problem all of his attention. He may have seemed composed on the outside, but she knew that his mind was working on overdrive. "Maybe it's time you forgot about her," she offered a suggestion a few moments later.

"Forgot about who?" Tommy asked, not even bothering to raise his head from the couch's back.

"(Y/N)," Ada didn't hesitate in saying the woman's name. Hearing it made Tommy's head snap up so that he could look at his sister. He almost looked surprised at the fact that she'd dare say that name. "You have Eloise now. There's no longer a need to visit her anymore."

"She knows too much," he countered.

"Who?" Ada asked for specifics.

"(Y/N). She knows too much. Of me, of this land, of fucking everything. I don't want Eloise speaking to her anymore."

"What're you going to do then, forbid Eloise from leaving the house?" Her question was meant to be a joke, but it was one that made the lightbulb above her brother's head go off. She noticed it in the way Tommy moved, standing from the couch and stalking out of the room, on a new mission. "Fuck," she breathed with a sigh, knowing that his mind that been set and there'd be no changing it.

Ada wondered why Tommy cared so much about this woman; this person who was no longer living and breathing, yet was still chained to this world. He had told her about (Y/N) in depth: about how she lived a very unhappy life, how she'd gotten to the point where she had nothing left, how she went to that very pond and walked into it knowing that she wouldn't be coming back out.

What Ada didn't realize was that Tommy felt like he was connected to (Y/N); like she was the only person who understood everything he'd been through. Tragedy understood tragedy, and both (Y/N) and Tommy's lives had been filled with it.

So would Tommy really insert more control over his loving wife’s life just because she’d stumbled upon a spirit lurking on the grounds of their estate? That question may not be so easily answered.

Despite the events of the day, the party went smoothly. Tommy, while still having to play host alongside Eloise, managed to speak to his wife about the adventure she'd taken earlier. He convinced her that they wouldn't be moving, and even though she didn't quite understand his reasoning, she agreed to never again walk past the gates of Arrow House's garden; thereby relinquishing her ability to leave the immediate property.

Eloise was able to fall asleep the second her head hit the pillow, exhausted from everything that had happened. Tommy was still wide awake late into the evening. He had one more thing he needed to do.

It didn't take him long to find the pond on the property, and it was no surprise that (Y/N) was waiting for him when he reached the water's edge. She waded towards him, a smile gracing her lips as she stopped in front of him. "I knew you'd come back," she said, speaking in that sweet voice that he'd come to find comfort in. But he couldn't let it calm him this time.

"You shouldn't have spoken to her," his words were abrupt, hoping that she'd get the point and they'd move on.

"I just had to let her know," (Y/N) didn't let it go; instead she explained her side. Her smile dropped into a pout as she tipped her head slightly, feigning innocence.

Her look didn’t faze him. "You'll not speak to her again.”

"I'm not sure I'll be able to help it if the option presents itself," her smile returned, and any trace of innocence was gone.

"It won't...she won't be coming down here anymore," Tommy stayed assertive, still not letting her switch faze him.

"So it'll just be you then?" (Y/N)'s eyebrows raised.

"It'll just be me. Forget you ever saw her," he finished off with one more succinct statement before turning to leave her. Even if he wanted to, he knew he couldn't stay out here tonight.

"She knows what'll happen," (Y/N)'s voice stopped him before he could leave. "She knows about the curse. Knows what'll happen if you try..." she trailed off, not even finishing her sentence because he already knew what she meant.

Silence hung in the air as he stared her down, watching for any subtle movements she could make. "Make it so it doesn't,” he said after a few beats, not waiting to turn and walk away from the pond without allowing her to have a chance to respond.

"I'll see you soon, Tommy," she called after him, smiling as she watched him walk away.

He knew that there was no way she could make things change, even if she wanted to. There was something about these grounds...something that was darker than anything he'd ever known. But he'd be lying if he said he wanted to leave them.

Eloise may not like it, but at the end of the day, she didn't have a choice. She'd stay locked inside of Arrow House so that Tommy could ensure that his two worlds wouldn't collide again.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @dlmlufics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @areyenotfondofmelobster @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 2 years ago

Text

chapter xvii - gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 3,500+

masterlist

It only took two turns for Y/N to guess that she had already made a mistake and was surely going to get lost in this ginormous house.

But it seemed to take even less time before she heard her name being called and Eris’ quick steps behind her.

Y/N stopped walking, but refused to turn around.

“We both know you have no idea where you are going,” Eris commented darkly from behind her.

She sighed and turned to look at him.

He took that as her silent invitation to let him show her back to her bedchambers. Well…his bedchambers. But she could sleep in his bed for as long as she so pleased – even if he wasn’t in it along with her.

The walk was 20 minutes of silence. And Eris knew better than to try and force her to break it when she was in such a delicate state. Little did he know, his silent presence was starting to comfort her.

“I meant what I said,” Eris finally spoke when they stood outside the door to their bedchambers.

“About what?” She asked for clarity in a soft voice.

“You are not a prisoner here.”

She just stared into his eyes, looking for any hint of lie. But found none.

“This home is your own. Go where you please. Use what you wish. If there’s anything you desire, you need only ask.” Then he nodded towards the door. “There are clothes in the wardrobe for you. I had the seamstresses working all day and they were quite confident they got your sizing correct.”

Y/N blinked. “You…Y-You had them make custom dresses for me, all in one day?”

Eris could not seem to understand why she was confused – and so taken aback.

“Of course,” he answered, as if it were obvious. “You arrived with almost no belongings.” Only his cloak and the weapons he had gifted her.

Then she opened the door in a rush and marched to the wardrobe, leaving the door ajar to silently invite him in.

Y/N opened it to see the most beautiful dresses she’d ever seen. Yes, Rhysand had gifted her clothes while in Night Court. But these dresses…they felt more... her. And there wasn’t just dresses: there was an equal amount of pants and tops, as well.

“Eris,” she whispered. “This is too much. I…I do not deserve such beautiful clothing.”

To her surprise, Eris’ eyes darkened and he stepped closer to her.

Then his stare went up and down her body – not objectifying her, though as if he was trying to find something he couldn’t seem, but she did.

His amber eyes stared and she wanted to look away, but couldn’t.

Eris voice was low as he slowly said, “I would like to know who in this life made you ever believe that you are undeserving of clothing.”

Y/N opened and closed her mouth a couple times.

When he put it so simply, it did make her rethink.

“But it’s not just clothing,” she argued. “It’s far too lovely.”

“So you don’t believe you deserve lovely clothing?”

Y/N glared at him now, seeing the game he was playing.

Eris took another step closer to her. And it made Y/N’s heart beat a little faster. She wondered if his fae senses could hear it.

His eyes flickered from her y/e/c eyes to her lips before he said, “If there is one thing I shall achieve during your stay here, it’s to untrain that mind of yours and stop you from ever thinking you are undeserving of the very best.” His head tilted closer to her. “You should be gifted anything you have ever wanted. You…” He paused. “You should be worshipped, Y/N.”

He lifted his head back, giving her space to linger on what he just said.

Y/N was grateful for it, because she was convinced her knees would give out at any second.

If her heart was speeding up before, now it was threatening to beat out of her chest. Her breathing was heavy, and she was struggling to control it.

No man had ever spoken to her the way Eris just did. And she somehow knew that no one else ever would, either.

Eris took a step backward. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

He bowed his head and left, closing the door gently behind him.

Y/N stood frozen in place for minutes before she could find it in herself to move.

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

The next morning, Lucien was once again guarding her door.

Y/N suspected that Eris assigned at least one of his guards while she slept, before his brother reached his post.

This time, Lucien was standing and reading a book.

“Do I really require a babysitter?” Y/N moaned.

Though, if she were being honest, she’d recognize that she had no idea what she would do with herself in this place alone.

Lucien smiled in that cocky way of his. Then he took in Y/N’s dress carefully. “I see you are making use of your new wardrobe…”

She said nothing and only awkwardly shifted her weight as her face got warm.

“I don’t think I need another tour,” Y/N announced quietly, hoping not to sound rude.

“Good. Because I did not plan on giving one.”

“He must be busy…” Y/N thought aloud as she started following her escort.

Lucien frowned. “It is not easy transitioning to High Lord, especially after this Court has been ruled by Beron for so long.”

“Will the people accept him?”

“It would be best if they did…” he hummed.

Y/N paused and looked at Lucien with fear. “He wouldn’t…Eris would never…he wouldn’t hurt anyone for the disrespect if they did not…w-would he?”

Lucien seemed amused by both her concern and uncertainty. “Doubtful. Eris wishes do abolish Beron’s evil, not renew it. But there are still those who will question his power and if he is fit to rule at all.”

“But the Cauldron chose him!” Y/N argued. "The powers of Autumn Court are with him.”

Lucien shrugged. “Sometimes the courtiers need more than that.”

“Where are we going?” She suddenly asked.

“To the kitchens,” Eris answered. “My brother nearly throttled me when he found out I had taken you on a three-hour tour without feeding you beforehand.”

“Will you stay…now that Eris is High Lord?”

Her waiting gaze was nervous, as if she was scared the question was rude and she was stepping out of line by asking it.

Lucien sighed. “My brother has assured me that one of his first acts as the new High Lord was to rescind my exile. I am welcome once again in Autumn Court.”

“But do you wish to actually return?”

It was obvious these were all questions that had been racing through Lucien’s mind. But it was also obvious that he did not have steadfast answers.

“It is nice having you here…” Y/N admitted quietly, giving him time to consider his answer. But also offering him an out to change the subject, and not answer at all.

Lucien gave her a shy smirk. “The feeling is mutual.” Then he frowned. “But you intend to return to the Mortal Lands as soon as Eris deems it safe.”

Y/N stopped walking and frowned. “You must think me no better than Elain.”

“Well, Elain does not even acknowledge my existence. At least you actually converse with my brother.”

It took Y/N a moment to realize he was teasing her. She looked up to see him smiling mischievously down at her.

Y/N’s brow furrowed. “Perhaps you fae will never understand it…”

“Understand what?”

“The power of choice was taken away from us. We mortals live a short life. A bad decision – or the lack of choice – could greatly change our lifetime. Our lifespan…it’s just a blink of your immortality.”

Lucien understood what Y/N was trying to tell him. And he wondered if this was why Elain pushed him away again and again. He was thrust onto her at her most vulnerable, ruining the life she had imagined for herself.

“So…you are upset that the Cauldron chose for you?”

“Feyre explained that mating bonds do not always imply love…”

Lucien wanted to correct her, to tell her that was not the case for his brother. But he knew it was not his place. Perhaps it was not yet love Eris had for Y/N. But Lucien could see it was quickly nearing. Without the threat of Beron, Eris was free to choose his mate – choose to love and protect her. If only Y/N realized that it was not a situation of the Cauldron forcing them together out of spite.

“This is true,” Lucien couldn’t help but agree. “Throughout history, some mates have despised each other. But you have spent time around Feyre and Rhysand, Nesta and Cassian. Surely you understand the power the bond can mean for others.”

Y/N didn’t respond, just remained lost in her own head.

––

Lucien had snuck them into the kitchens that were bustling with energy and cooks. There was a little nook in the corner, out of everyone’s way. It was just big enough so two could eat together discreetly.

As soon as they were seated, a cook came over with a shy, but warm smile. She appeared to be lesser fae, with almost red skin and bright, golden hair. Her eyes were entirely black though – no irises or pupils to be found.

She bowed her head to both of them, the gesture taking Y/N aback. In both hands were two plates full of breakfast. She gently placed them down.

“I will be back with coffee and tea,” she told them almost apologetically.

“Thank you,” Y/N managed to say before the cook scurried out of sight.

Y/N looked to Lucien with a questioning gaze.

“There are many who wish to meet the legendary witch who rid the court of Beron Vanserra.”

Y/N scoffed. “I hardly even helped. I was more in the way than anything. The winds tell me it was you, Eris, and your mother who truly ended him.”

Lucien’s face turned serious as he said, “If you think my brother could have found the courage to face Beron without you, then you truly do not understand your importance here.”

The cook returned, holding two giant mugs in each hand with impressive finesse. In one set was coffee and in their other appeared to be earl grey tea.

Lucien gave a nod and looked into her eyes as he said, “Thank you, Marwyna.”

Even with her red skin, she seemed to be blushing at such attention.

“Yes, thank you. It looks delicious,” Y/N also urged.

The two of them ate without conversation. If it weren’t for the bustling of the kitchens they sat in, there would’ve been complete silence between the two.

Lucien could tell something had been struck in Y/N’s mind and she had no retreated there, thinking and thinking and thinking.

It wasn’t until both of their plates were nearly clean when she finally spoke.

“I make him weak,” Y/N breathed. “I am just a mortal. I could so easily be used against him. It would be better if I….if I just d-d-disappeared.”

Lucien watched Y/N, reading her face to see that she truly believed the words she spoke.

But it would not be him that could make her realize how wrong she was. He would need to have a long conversation with Eris. Only his brother could make Y/N understand how important she was – to him, to Autumn Court.

So, all Lucien stead was, “There is nothing weak about you, Y/N.”

She blinked in surprise at his declaration.

“Now if we are finished eating and feeling sorry for ourselves, I think a nice walk around the gardens would do us well.”

A whisper of a smirk showed on Y/N’s lips as she nodded.

—🍁—🍁—🍁—

“That is all for today,” Eris announced to his table of advisors as he stood.

He could sense everyone’s mental exhaustion. But mostly he could feel is own.

There was…much to be repaired in Autumn Court. Beron ruled with fear and without any mercy, and it would take a lot to undo such philosophies.

His mother sat to his right and gave him a sympathetic look as the fae bowed their heads and slowly took their leave from the great hall.

However, Leonora stayed behind.

Eris had already grown exhausted with his High Lord duties. Though he had prepared for centuries to have such power, nothing could’ve prepared him for the toll it took on his mind and body.

Leonora waited for them to be left alone before she spoke.

Then she subtly nodded her head to the other end of the hall that led to a balcony that oversaw the courtyard below.

Eris held out his arm for his mother before moving.

She squeezed his arm to comfort him. “You cannot change this Court overnight, Eris.”

“We are moving too slowly,” he argued.

Leonora smiled. “I know you have patience, for you waited centuries to for this opportunity. But you must still practice that same patience to mold Autumn Court for the good of its denizens.”

As they walked onto the balcony, Eris was hit with the fresh, brisk air of autumn. The sun was nearing the horizon as it set for the day.

It was common for mist and fog to linger in this court.

And today’s dusk was no different, leaving a haunting feeling to the courtyard below.

When Eris looked over the edge of the railing, he froze.

Below were his acclaimed smoke hounds.

Everyone in the Forest House feared them. They did not take kindly to anyone that wasn't their master. Because they were feared for good reason: trained to hunt and kill – if ordered. They only tolerated their handlers by command of Eris, since he could not solely take care of them himself – especially now that he was High Lord. Even his mother was careful around them. They’d never attack her, but they were by no means fond of the Lady of Autumn either.

But below him, the pack was surrounding Y/N, who sat on the ground as they all wagged their tails, fighting each other to lick her.

Two pups from the most recent litter were cuddled on Y/N's lap, as she giggled from all the affection the adult hounds gave her.

Then Eris spotted Lucien a few yards away from Y/N, with a look of exasperation. Most of his childhood Lucien spent trying to win over his brother’s smoke hounds. They only grew to tolerate him, never showing him acceptance or affection.

Any time Lucien so much as shifted his weight, the hounds would interpret it as him trying to get closer to Y/N, and they would all let out a warning growl.

It made Lucien roll his eyes. And Eris swore he heard his youngest brother mutter, “Stupid, overprotective mutts. Of course you would like her…”

“Seems like your hounds have brought your mate some joy,” Leonora hummed as she also looked down at the sight with a knowing smile.

Eris couldn’t deny how much it warmed his heart.

Perhaps they remembered Y/N from that dreadful day he found her in the forest. Or perhaps they could also sense that Y/N was their master’s mate.

—

“There is so many of them!” Y/N giggled as the hounds kissed her face, tickling her.

“They will not even let me pet them and look at you!” Lucien called out bitterly.

Then a whistle pierced the air.

The pack of one dozen dogs immediately retreated, forming a straight line, like little soldiers.

Y/N sat straight and twisted to see that they were now facing Eris, who had stepped into the courtyard and stood straight with his hands clasped behind my back.

She also jumped to her feet. For some reason, she felt like she had been caught doing something mischievous. But she still had the two puppies in each hand. Clearly, they were too young to know the same commands as the others.

Eris walked further into the courtyard. “I see you have met my smoke hounds.”

Y/N quickly, but gently, put the two puppies on the ground. But as soon as she let them go, they looked up at her and started whining.

Eris looked at the two handlers, who had been standing watch, and then at his brother.

“Leave us,” he commanded politely, but firmly.

Lucien glared at his eldest brother. But still followed his command, giving Y/N a polite nod before also leaving the courtyard.

Then it was just Y/N, Eris, and his hounds.

Y/N, still thinking like she was caught doing something wrong, immediately stuttered out, “L-Lucien and I were just going for a walk when we came upon your handlers and the dogs. They approached me! I didn’t mean to disrupt them.”

Eris finally smirked at her. “You seem to be under the impression that I plan on scolding you.”

Y/N blinked. “Well…I…yes.”

Eris wondered what he had to do to make his mate realize she could never do anything to upset him so pettily.

He looked at his hounds and said, “Effrenate.”

The hounds relaxed and all went to greet their master with wagging tails.

“Animals seem to have a certain draw to you…” Eris noted as he kneeled to greet his dogs with pets and affection.

“Most witches have a connection to that of nature,” Y/N mumbled, almost as if she were embarrassed by this certain trait.

“So you have bewitched my hounds?” Eris asked with playfulness in his eyes.

“Of course not,” she quickly answered with a huff, as she picked up the two puppies again and walked toward their master.

“Do you have names for them all?” Y/N asked.

“Of course.” His gaze went up to the two in her hand. “That is Aspen and Brutus.”

Both puppies tails wagged even harder at their names being called out. Y/N smiled down at them when she noticed it.

Then he went around and listed off the rest of the names.

“Now that I know they are all so fond of you,” Eris began. “Perhaps I should leave a few of them to guard you during your stay.”

“I wouldn’t mind the company. But is my safety really at such risk here?”

“I should hope not,” Eris answered lowly. “Though it would ease my guilt from leaving you alone for such long periods of time.”

“You are a High Lord. You have more important matters than entertaining me. Though I hope you start to take pity on Lucien and dismiss his duties as my personal jester.”

Eris smiled at her subtle jab toward his brother.

His smiles were rare before. But now there was brightness there that Y/N doubted existed before Beron’s demise.

He was so handsome. Not that it hadn’t been the first thing Y/N noticed when she had met Eris officially in the Night Court. But Y/N would not be surprised if the power of being a High Lord somehow enhanced his looks.

Eris’ amber eyes almost glow with a warmth that only ever seemed to be directed toward her. And his cloak-like jacket fit his body perfectly, showing off his posture and strong presence. He would immediately be noticed in any room he walked into.

“You should never hide your smile,” Y/N blurted out before she could stop herself.

Her eyes widened in embarrassment when she realized what she had just said aloud.

“Excuse me,” she quickly added. “I should not say such things so carelessly.”

But Eris ignored her apology. “Whatever smiles you see are your doing.”

Y/N's face warmed at his implication.

But then something dark suddenly clouded her face. “I should return to my rooms.”

Eris stood up from his dogs. “Will you not join me for dinner?”

Y/N carefully placed the two puppies in Eris’ grasp and only looked at them as she answered, “I would like to eat dinner alone in my rooms, if that is alright.”

“O-Of course,” was all Eris could manage to say back.

What would he do instead? Force her to have dinner with him? Is that not what Tamlin did when Feyre was imprisoned in Spring Court? Or at least, that is what Eris had heard.

Had he said something to upset her?

“Your training,” Eris called out before Y/N could fully escape the courtyard.

She turned to him, brow wrinkled with clear confusion.

“Do you wish to continue your training?” Eris clarified.

Even though it was just the two of them, Y/N still looked around the courtyard as if she would find another person Eris could possibly be talking to.

“I would,” she finally answered slowly.

“I will assign my Weapons Master to train with you tomorrow. He shall meet you here.”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest.

“Before you say some nonsense about not wanting to be a bother,” Eris continued before she could speak. “It would bring me great peace to know you are keeping up with your training.”

She just watched him for a moment.

Eventually she nodded, and said, “Tomorrow then.”

––––––

*for those curious, the breed I used to reference Eris' smoke hounds is a Dogo Argentino. (I know most people imagine a grey hound, but they look like rats to me and I like this breed more. And they seem more badass anyways.)

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Chapter XVIII

#gust & flame #acotar #a court of thorns & roses #eris #eris acotar #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra #autumn court #lady of autumn #high lord of autumn #forest house

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