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kabuki-writes · 6 days ago

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And All Eyes Were Set On Brutus

chapter: 3 chapter 1 | 2

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: After their visit of the Colosseum, Marcus Acacius worries even more about his beloved daughter. Meanwhile a dangerous rumor finds its way into the Emperor's ears.

Note: Thank you all for your ongoing support and your comments on my previous chapters✨🙇‍♀️! I really enjoy to write this fic as a Geta and Cara stan myself and it honors me that you continue to share your love for these two and this fic. I really hope you like this chapter as well, because this time it gets a little more... spicy.🌶️

word count: 3.6k

Rome was becoming nothing more than a painful cage for General Acacius. From the very first day he had to wear the white armor of victory, he felt like a slave with no other choices than to watch how everything he had known changed for the worse. He despised himself for not being able to protect his own daughter from the eyes of the Emperors, that were now set on her. He should've never taken her with him, he should've sticked with his principles. But then again, what choice did he even have, when he faced an order by the most powerful men in the world.

There was no chance to defy them openly, speaking up now would bring danger to his whole family as they would have to face the consequences of Marcus Acacius' actions. He wasn't so delusional and naive to think that the anger of the Emperors would only befall him alone, no, they weren't like that. So when the day came and a senator stepped forward to the General, he hesitated. Geta and Caracalla were beloved by the people as they gave them victories, bread and games - as long as the plebs had that, no one gave a damn about who sat on top. For them it was all the same, but the senate was different.

After the death of Emperor Commodus, the senate reestablished the Roman Republic, but wasn't able to secure their power. Many cities and regions took their chance to rebel against Rome as most of the generals refused to serve the new order - that included Marcus Acacius as well, who quickly sided with his old friend and brother-in-arms Septimius Severus, the father of the now ruling Emperors Geta and Caracalla. They took their legions and marched on Rome, where Severus took the power from the senate again only one year after the rebirth of the Republic. Acacius did believe in Severus, he did believe in the vision his friend had for Rome as well as his strength and wisdom as Emperor. Nearly two decades he was not disappointed while he served his old friend as a close advisor and his first general.

The senate got reduced to nothing more than a theater stage, with no real power or influence. And Acacius was sure that they would forever hate him for the service he did to Severus. Yet men like Gracchus must've sensed that the general was getting more and more delusional given the current reign of the twins. So the politicians approached him carefully and together they formed an alliance in the shadows. Their plan: Overthrowing the two Emperors and install the Republic again. Acacius stood never on the side of the senate... but nothing was as terrible as Geta's and Caracalla's tyranny. And if that is a way to protect his daughter and his family from them, he happily claimed himself a Roman Republican now.

Coming from one of his nightly visits at senator Gracchus' home, Acacius noticed that there was someone still sitting in the inner garden of his Roman city residence. He took off his cloak and approached you slowly as you watched the turtles in the small pond between the plants and flowers, while the water of a small fountain rippled in the silence. "Your mother told me, that you were sitting here the whole day", he said with a low tone, careful not to scare you with his sudden appearence, before he took a seat right next to you on the stone bench. When he watched your face, he saw all the thoughts that were probably going through your head after the situation in the Collosseum yesterday. For a long moment, the two of you simply sat in silence, while one of the turtles walked along a mosaic before it fell into the water.

"I am not a child anymore, i don't want you or mother to protect me any longer", you suddenly whispered, before your head turned to your father. In your eyes he saw how you struggled to maintain your neutrality as you faced the danger that may come over you, if you'd accept this new attention further. "And yet i don't know how to deal with... them? I suppose i cannot refuse any of this?" Your question carried a sense of pain, because you already knew the answer and it was equally as hard for your father to shake his head in response.

"I thought so...", you mumbled and leaned forward give one of the turtles a leaf of salad you had snached from the dinner table earlier. Acacius had seen many battles and many terrible things, but nothing was harder than to see you like this. And nothing was harder than to feel helpless. All he could do was laying his hand softly and reassuring on your shoulder.

„You’re my daughter, y/n. And you’re right, even if I want it to, I can not protect you anymore… all I can promise you, that it is going to be alright."

He searched for a way to fix all of this, even though he couldn't tell you how. It was better this way as it would only drag you deeper into the dead end that your own father had already set up. The mere thought about it made his heart grow even more painful.

"Do you regret it sometimes?", you suddenly asked, looking at the vibrant clear water of the pond. "What do you mean?"

"That you marched with Emperor Severus back then?"

This question wasn't easy to answer, it was written on Acacius face, as he turned his face to the turtles and sighed.

"I did believe in Severus... i still do. Under him, Rome was able to secure itself and become strong again. What comes after that now - only time will tell. But what i know is that i have to leave in a few weeks with my troups again. An order of the Emperors."

It wasn't a particular surprising news, but nonetheless your fingers digged themselves into the fabric of your toga-like blue dress, while you still hept your head high. Despair was no useful emotion and not a good thought right now. You needed to stay calm, stick to yourself and find a way on how to deal with all of the things that were happening. As you'd said you were no child anymore - you will find a way out if this, even without your father.

You didn't say a word in response, however you closed your arms around him as the fear that with him being gone it could get even worse, lingered on your mind. Little did you know that the world you had known was already on the brink of falling apart.

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The smell of incence, wine, sweet perfume and sweat filled the rooms of Emperor Caracalla's chambers, while naked bodies moved themselves to the rythm of a small group of musicians. The melodies of their instruments mixed themselves with the moans of the men and women in ecstacy, the worshippers of Bacchus - god of wine, euphoria and madness. Drinking and making love was the way they prayed nearly every night as Caracalla found in it a way to escape the reality that almost drove him crazy. Here in his chambers, the only Emperor that mattered was him, the only word that was heard was his own. At least one small realm for himself, while he had to share the rest of the world with his twin brother.

But it was different this time, when he stared at the scenery with a mind clouded in intoxication. His breaths went ragged, while he sat on a bed decorated with velvet cushions, a young man kneeled between his legs and sent him to elysium with his tongue, while he was surrounded by beautiful slaves, women with golden chains, that decorated their naked breasts and hips. And yet even in a scenery like this, where he usually found a way to calm his restless mind, he was still thinking about her. Not only her, sadly - that goddamn General was another thought. The hero of Rome was no pleasant figure for him anymore, he was nothing more than a Brutus, but Caracalla was not the one to end up like Julius Caesar.

The mere thought of killing this treacherous son of a whore hit Caracalla's brain and made him cum into the mouth of the slave that had his dick deep in his throat. This peak of his pleasure would've helped him to relax if not one of the praetorian guards stepped in and walked with his black and lilac amror through the voyeristic scenery like it was a halluzination in front of the Emperor's eyes. Without a second thought, Caracalla simply pushed the young slave, who was still sitting at his feet, to the side and stood up. His hand quickly grabbed the white toga that layed on the floor which he threw over his own naked, pale body. "Why do you disturb me!?", he hissed, as if he wasn't already expecting him.

The soldier ignored the music, the slaves that layed on the ground and fucked each other, just as he ignored the half-naked Emperor right in front of him, who still wore his golden laurel crown and his jewelries. "Emperor Geta waits for you."

For a moment, the young man with the gingerblonde hair stared at his guard, before he nodded quickly, as if it got him out of a daydream. "Yes, yes i will come to him, i am right there, tell him that. And get that slave Marcellus here," he answered, hand waving him away before his tone shifted and he screamed at his 'guests'. "Get out, GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! NOW!" The music stopped immediately and all eyes were set on Caracalla, while the first slaves already got to their feet again. „NOW,“ he repeated in a louder and added in a hissing tone „…or I will claim your tongue with a dagger!“

Caracalla was impossible to read fully, just as he was impulsive. It would’ve not been the first time one participant of this nightly debaucheries had lost his tongue or another part of his body.

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Emperor Geta waited in his embroidered night robe, which was half open, exposing his bare and pale chest. Sitting on a cushioned wooden chair, he stared with tired eyes out the window of the balcony, the darkness of Rome in front of him. Just as his brother he had someone in his chambers, but instead of a whole horde of slaves he had chosen one good whore with hairs that reminded him of you. It was just a dull replacement, he knew that, yet it was enough for a good fuck before he would’ve went to sleep.

If there was not his twin brother, who‘d call for him in the middle of the goddamn night. By the gods he hated to be disturbed like that, especially after countless of times his brother got him here only to share uninteresting - sometimes even paranoid - gossip with him, which Caracalla had heard from the mouth of one of his slaves.

When the curtains of the attached room opened and Geta saw his brother entering with his wild hair and only with a toga over his bare body, his nose twitched in anger. „Don‘t tell me you disturbed my sleep and called for my immediate coming while you were fucking whores at your damn orgy!? When you’re telling me that your problem is, that you can’t sleep now, I will cross you myself!“ Yes, it wasn’t the first time Caracalla had called him for such nonesense. And usually Geta had a lot of patience with him, given his psychological condition, but not tonight.

Caracalla stopped in an instant and looked at his brother with big eyes as if he tries to convince him that he wasn’t guilty of anything. „Yes, but- I had a reason for that!“ he insisted, which only fueled Geta's anger. „Lucinius, bring us the slave!“ Caracalla quickly said and the Praetorian guard who just had informed him about his brother came in with a skinny, yet tall young man. He was a slave but given the clothes he wore, it was clear that he had a higher rank within the household he was serving in.

„Who is that, one of your toy boys?“ Geta asked, eying the stranger he‘d never seen before. But Caracalla shook his head and stepped forth to place his hand on the shoulder of that slave.

„No! He is a slave from the household of senator Gracchus,“ he explained and couldn’t hide an almost devilish smile as this said slave was here for one reason alone - to tell them everything. „Marcellus, tell him,“ he ordered and whispered into his ear. „I promised you your freedom and a good amount of gold, to return to your family. You want to see your daughter again, right? So don’t disappoint me now.“ With those words he stepped back for a moment, giving the slave a moment to breath as he seemingly tried to find the right words. He was nervous, the way his fingers twitched and his eyes were glued to the marble ground under his feet.

"I... i am a servant in the household of senator Gracchus for nearly a decade now", Marcellus began and forced himself to look up into the testing eyes of Geta, who was growing more impatient with each second passing. "The General... General Acacius as well as a couple of other senators visit my master regularly in the middle of the night and they always retreat into a secret room in the cellar of his villa."

With an amused whistle Geta interrupted him. "Why should we care for the sexual escapades of a group of old men?", he hissed, but Caracalla threw in with a darkened shimmer in his eyes. "Wait for it, you will be furious, trust me! Continue."

Marcellus needed a second to calm himself down and stop to shake as he formed his next words. "When i brought them wine once, they stopped with their conversation as long as i stayed in the room, but when i was in the corridor, they spoke again. They didn't know that i was still there, so i just listened and- it was clear that they questioned you, my Emperors. They questioned your leadership and the general - i wouldn't dare to speak out loud such a blasphemy against your rule, if it was not what i've heard with my own ears."

Geta's face darkened with every new information Marcellus was telling him and slowly he realized why his brother was so eager to get him here. The laugh of his twin filled the room, which turned hysterical. "Tell him, Marcellus!"

"General Acacius and the senators Gracchus, Livinidus, Galba and Erebus plan to overthrow you with the legions that are under Acacius' command," he said and had to force every word out of his mouth, afraid of the anger that cooked like a vulcano in Geta. His hands formed fists and he bit his tongue. All this time, Acacius - the hero - was a traitor, a Brutus. And now he connected the dots, thinking about every time this General wined about going off to war. This maggot.

"And this is true!?", he asked in a loud, demanding tone. "If that is a lie, we will punish you in the most terrible ways you could imagine and feed you to the lions in the Colosseum!" Marcellus eyes were filled with tears of fear, yet he shook his head heavily.

"No, please! I speak the truth, i swear it! I swear it in front of Jupiter himself, please, you must believe me! I came to Emperor Caracalla, who promised me my freedom if i tell it here again. It is no lie!"

"Kill him", Geta ordered in a cold tone and before Marcellus could even scream, it was the blade of the Praetorial Guard that cut his head off from behind, making it fall to the ground like a ball of bones and meat, followed by his body. Under the resounding laugh of Caracalla, Geta ordered the Guard to leave them so that he could speak to his brother in private.

"You just read my mind, dear brother! I wouldn't have let him go either", Caracalla sang. "We should kill them all, that bastard Acacius and his old senate sluts! Let's cut off their heads and spike them on the Palatin for all to see!"

But Geta was already two steps ahead when he closed the distance between him and his twin. Yes, he was furious, it took him all restraints to not give in the urge of ordering their murder. "No," he said, which drew a questioning look on his brothers face.

"What no?! Those are traitors, TRAITORS! You've heard the same things i did!?"

"I did, but the senators are no danger. These old men talk about the republic which is nothing more than dust and ashes! A faded dream and without any backing, they just continue to shit themselves in the senate. When our father took Rome, the people cheered to him, because they didn't want a Republic but a strong Emperor to guide them, remember? The head of the snake is Acacius! He must die, and he will die, but not yet!", Geta started and turned to the balcony, leaving his brother for a moment as he stood in the darkness with his his white toga. "We need his legion, and we will make him our fucking dog, who has no chance to ever decline any order of us, if we have his beloved daughter. If he doesn't do as we say, then she will die."

But he will, Geta knew that. Nothing seemed to be more precious in Acacius' life than his family and especially his dear daughter. And this whole situation had a bonus for Geta, because when he turned to face Caracalla again, he announced. "I will force him with an order to marry his daughter to me!"

Caracalla froze in place, his eyes staring at his brother as if he just had a bad dream. "What?", he simply asked again, while his brother's anger turned into anticipation. "With a marriage we bind her to our reign and therefore we will bind the General. Acacius delivers us his own daughter and his own head on a silver tablet with his treacherous nonsense!"

Geta wanted to place his hands on his twin's shoulders, but Caracalla slapped them out of his way. "I don't accept this! NO! I DON'T ACCEPT THIS!", he screamed at him, which really irritated his twin. "Why can't I be the One to marry her!?"

There it was. For the first time, the twins revealed in front of each other that they longed for the same girl. And that made it complicated. Nonetheless Geta was still confused, why his brother reacted like that, so he reminded him of what Caracalla said all those years.

"You never wanted to marry? How many times did you told our father before he died? Every time he said to us, that we would need to find ourselves someone to take as a wife, you refused. You were too busy indulging in your late night activities and Bacchus rituals."

He stepped forward with an intense glaze in his eyes. This way of being instructive, while Caracalla was still his twin and technically even older than him, made his brother's mouth twitch in response to his next words. "May i remind you about the fact that i am the one of us dealing with most of the political responsibilities, because you always wanted to stick to your fun."

Those words were indeed true, as Caracalla hated those senate discussions, which lead to nothing and were only for show - an illusion for both the plebs and the upper-classes. Geta continued, but not without making clear that he saw himself worthier of you being his wife, bound in front of the gods. "All of that is fine, brother. I've always protected you from the boring senators and hypocrites of the Roman elite, while you collected the most beautiful slaves and enjoyed yourself. You have no duties, as long as i take them off your shoulders and finally shut up all the people, finally demanding a royal marriage after all those years. And given all of that, i do think i deserve to marry before you to present Rome an Empress."

Caracalla stared at him, straight into the eyes of his twin Geta and his fingers twitched. If he would just have a dagger now? But he had none right here and given the fact that his brother was always taller and stronger with his statue, it wouldn't make sense to start a fight. In fact he couldn't even argue against him, as it was true, he was never an Emperor that bothered himself with any political nonesense. Yet he couldn't shake off the urge to kill Geta for this. Again, he took a thing from him he wanted to own for himself - only for himself. Even though his twin showed his goodwill, as he always did. His hands layed itself on Caracalla's cheeks and he gave him a brotherly kiss on the forehead. "Don't worry, dear brother. I am not above sharing her divine presence with you. But she will always be my wife," he whispered, followed by a smile on his lips.

With those words he simply turned and left the room, leaving Caracalla, who was still wearing his white toga over his naked body, as well as the body of Marcellus alone in the dark. His mind got corrupted with so many thoughts in this very moment, but the most prominentely thought was anger. So he screamed hysterically and grabbed the table that stood at the side to throw it down, taking the vase on top and hurled it straight through the room, followed by the head of that damn slave. He hated Geta. He hated him so much and still they had shared the whomb of their mother, which made them share the same blood.

How long would he be able to hold the urge to murder his own brother - especially now as Geta claimed you?

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Tags:

quuinyoung koshkahhh mmkkzz analves pandora-journey ange-olras tellynojelly targwh0re h3k3t onelemonoat whitenoise808 spooky-cupid dev1lbella onelemonoat hawraa-alzubaidi omg-hellgirl the-holy-pigeon

#gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #emperor caracalla #emperor geta #general acacius #geta x reader #caracalla x reader #joseph quinn #pedro pascal #fred hechinger #gladiator ii fic #kabuki writes

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novaursa · 3 months ago

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Cregan Stark Masterlist

main list

- NSFW Alphabet - explicit 18+

- The Silent Game - When your family took the side of King Aegon II, the usurper, you felt the need to support the rightful Queen and your husband, the Warden of the North. No matter the cost. - mature 16+

- The Weight of Ice - You try to lift Cregan’s ancestral greatsword which he wields with ease. It doesn't go as planned. - mild 13+

- The Wall - Cregan takes you to see the Wall, and Silverwing comes with you. - mild 13+

- The Wolf's Desire - After the Dance, Cregan took position as the Hand of the King until the realm under your younger brother’s rule is stabilized. But Cregan's thoughts today are far from establishing order and justice to the capital. - explicit 18+

- Fox in Wolves Den - You were instructed by Larys Strong to spy the northerners, to thin their ranks. But today you faced the Warden of the North himself. - mature 16+

- Winterfell's Warmth - Cregan takes you to be his wife, a fire to his ice. And it's not long until smallfolk notice just how much Lord Stark is devoted to his Targaryen bride. - mature 16+

- Daisy - Heavy with your and Cregan’s first child, you get suspicious when your husband starts to sneak out to see Daisy. - mild 13+

- The Cold Embrace (1/2) - When your older brother, Jacaerys, promised you to the Warden of the North as an alliance offering, your world crashed. Because you knew one thing: dragons die in the North - and not even honorable Lord Stark could change that fact. - mature 16+

- The Cold Embrace (2/2) - As time passes, snow begins to melt. - explicit 18+

- Valyrian Bride - When your older brother, Jacaerys, promised you to Cregan to be his bride, the Lord Stark did not expect what he got - a trueborn dragon. - mild 13+

- Valyrian Bride (Continuation) - mild 13+

- Valyrian Bride (Final Chapter) - mature 16+

- Valyrian Bride (dragon eggs) - Cregan was expecting a quiet day. But nothing is ever truly quiet with his dragon-blooded children. - mild 13+

- Valyrian Bride (dragon's bath) - You invite Cregan to join you in a warm bath. - mature 16+

- Valyrian Bride (nameday) - Cregan notices his wife and children doing strange (well, stranger than usual) things for him throughout the day. - mild 13+

- Winter's Solace - Specters of the past came back today once more to hunt you, but Cregan holds them back. - mature 16+

- The Cycle - Cregan leaves with his duty to the Wall and you are left alone with a choice Larys Strong brings. - explicit 18+

- The Cycle (one for the price of two) - alternative scenario - Explicit 18+

- The Cycle (justice) - Cregan delivers justice for your son and Grey Ghost. - explicit 18+

- The Frozen Throne - You and Cregan win the Dance. - mature 16+

- The Gullet's Price - The day you received the news about the death of your brother, another life was lost. - explicit 18+

- Dreams of Fire - You brought gentleness to the harshness of the North, and Cregan finds himself warmed by your presence. - explicit 18+

- The North's Fiercest Catch - You challenge Cregan to hunt down a dragon. - mature 16+

Works (velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark) below are listed in chronological order:

- The Dragon and The Wolf - Rhaenyra sends her daughter instead of her son to fly North. You. - mature 16+

- A Union of Ice and Fire - After your mother, Queen Rhaenyra, approves of the marriage between you and Cregan Stark, you marry under watchful eyes of gods of old. And one week later, a raven arrives carrying dark news. - explicit 18+

- The North Remembers - You return to Dragonstone, where you mourn with your family as you receive the message from Cregan. - explicit 18+

- The Heir of Ice and Ash - A little less than a year into your marriage with Cregan, you give birth to your first child. - mature 16+

- Fires That Never Freeze - You receive the news about Rhaenys' death at Rook's Rest, before Jace arrives as he secures the Twins. - explicit 18+

- The Wolf's Flame - When you take your son flying, Cregan keeps fires warm for your return. - mature 16+

- Hour of the Wolf - Cregan keeps his promise to you, and delivers Northern justice to the South. - mature 16+

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #cregan x y/n #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan x you #hotd cregan #cregan stark x reader

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garagesesh · 5 months ago

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HOTD Headcanons

i can hear the bells // p.1 & p.2

gif source

⤷ pairing(s): aegon ii targaryen x reader & cregan stark x reader ⤷ warning(s): mentions of sex, alcohol, general rudeness ⤷ a/n: please forgive me for Aegon 😖 part two with jace and aemond will be up soon…hopefully i acquired a hand injury today soooo… whoops lol

―✧˖° ♛ °˖✧―

★ cregan stark

The betrothal came with Jace after his security of the north and the Stark’s oath. You were to fly in a fortnight to Winterfell and become Lady Stark. You find yourself in tears at night but Baela spends all night with you, making you feel better about your new northern life.

You struggle but understand that you will be alone at your binding to Lord Stark. Your family is at the precipice of war and they need the alliance

The North is cold and sparse but it’s expansive desolation is half the charm. The cold will get taking used to

There is no reception and few words at your arrival other than Lord Stark, Sara Snow, and a half dozen of his men. It’s cordial and quick, as there is war to attend to

On the morning of, Cregan’s half-sister is warm and lovely, braiding your hair in the Targaryen way but dressing you in the Stark. It is foreign but quickly becoming familiar

As you walk towards the weirwood under the swirling, quiet snow, you mourn the absence of your mother and siblings. Your father, who has long since perished within the scarred halls of Harrenhal and Luke whose death still makes you shed tears.

Cregan is handsome, ruggedly so. He’s not the man you envisioned yourself with but he will more than do. You like his frost bitten cheeks and his long brown hair. You like the furs that surround his body that make him seem warm and inviting. He’s also almost a head taller than you, you can’t help the blush that creeps up your cheeks. You hope he chalks it up to the cold.

Cregan did not imagine marrying a Targaryen princess. But he can hardly look at you, for you are far more beautiful than he had imagined

He surprises you with a feast, not with any flowers or the grandeur of the weddings you attended in childhood but there is music, food, and people dancing. You learn quickly that the Northerner's like to have fun and enjoy a good party.

Your and Cregan’s first dance is nothing short of awkward but it’s full of laughter as he spins you around and as you step on his toes. His large hands encases your own as he guides you through the dance floor.

You forget about what’s brewing in the south and relish in the feast, while simultaneously falling in love with your husband

The bedding ceremony comes around and Cregan’s timid at first. He’s unwilling to hurt you. Sweet and kind, Cregan is not rough for now

You think forever could be lovely with him

★ aegon ii targaryen

The two of you have been betrothed since your fifth name day and doomed from the beginning

It isn’t love at first sight, not at all. In fact, he gives you the look of disgust when you first meet at his sixteenth name day tourney. Aegon makes it a point to make fun of your clothing and insults your intellect, of which he is lacking you muse.

There’s not many more meetings between the two of you before the queen suggests you acquire a room at the keep. You’re not thrilled but you cannot refuse.

It’s not until a month has passed since your arrival to the Red Keep that he decides to acknowledge your presence. There are moments in the months leading up to your union that he’s almost sweet, almost affectionate with you. In the ways that he touches your wrist, brings you things you might enjoy, or spends most of his time with you

Over time you start to believe that maybe there is love there. That you and Aegon can come to be companions and lovers. At least you can say that you are falling in love with him

On your wedding day, he takes the white and silver cloak adorned with twin Direwolves and crimson red Weirwood leaves and practically throws it to the side.

His kiss is sloppy, uncouth, and embarrassing. You don’t reciprocate instead choosing to wait out the shameless display.

Aegon gets drunk at the reception.

Far into his bottle of wine, he calls you the wolf whore. The northern barbarian, he whispers in your ear. That’s when you decide you have had enough

You’re sure that if your brother was able to join the festivities away from the castle, he would have killed Aegon

You go to bed alone on your wedding night, tears stain your sheets and serious thoughts of running away plague your mind

It’s almost dawn when there’s a knock at the door and the creak of it’s hinges stirring you from slumber, he’s quiet and tentative something you hadn’t experienced with Aegon. He crawls into the bed, but doesn’t approach your form.

He’s nervous Aegon confesses, stranger to the unknown feeling of love and respect from anyone. That there has been no teaching of what love could be or is. He admits that he could see himself learning with you

#cregan stark x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #cregan stark #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #headcanon #asoiaf #angst #aegon x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii targaryen

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vsimp · 7 days ago

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Bittersweet (part 2)

bitter part 1 | part 3 (coming soon)

pairing: kamisato ayato x f!reader

word count: 2k

warning: negative thoughts

The cherry blossoms fluttered down one by one. The silk fabric of your wedding attire slightly swayed in the wind. You sat with your husband in front of your families, and you looked upon the guests who enjoyed themselves at the matrimonial ceremony.

A happy smile washed upon your expression as you sipped the ceremonial sake. Unbeknownst to you, his amethyst eyes watched your every move and expression that day.

Later on, when people grew more and more inebriated, and some time had passed, he looked at you with an unknown glint in his eyes. He placed his hand over yours, the one that had laid rested on his lap. And as if he had just placed a mask directly over his face, he gave you that smile you were all too familiar with during the present day.

You felt that you could get lost into the light and beautiful colors of his eyes. And before you knew it, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, so softly, so tenderly, that it felt like you could melt right then and there. His scent overwhelmed your senses, his touch was ever so gentle. Even the beauty of the cherry blossoms themselves could not distract you from how much affection you had held for this man before you.

You shut your own eyes as you sank deeper into his kiss.

That was when you had fallen in love with him for the first time.

Overcome with emotions, your eyes then fluttered open like a gentle breeze in the plains of Teyvat.

Instead of seeing the man you had fallen in love with, you found yourself staring at the familiar wooden ceiling above you. It was just a dream. A very familiar dream. Your hand had instantly made its way to find the ring that was centered on your left fourth finger.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you brought the ring to your chest, holding it close to your own heart so that you could never lose or forget those sweet memories again.

Then, after you took some time to yourself, you got up early that morning, getting yourself ready as you made your way to breakfast.

Your duties as his spouse was to oversee the staff and make sure the interior and exterior of the house were up to par. In short, you worked with Ayaka closely, taking on the other half of her workload. Days were busy as you greeted guests several times a week, trying to behave as courteously as you could, while your sister in law went out of the estate to pay political visits to other prominent people.

The morning air carried the faint scent of cherry blossoms, though the season for their full bloom had long passed. You let the memories of that dream linger as you walked through the estate, weaving through your responsibilities. The stillness of the household awakened with the first rays of sunlight, the staff bustling in preparation for the day ahead.

At breakfast, Ayaka mentioned the upcoming event hosted by the Kanjou Commission, her words lighthearted but laced with the weight of duty.

“It will be an important gathering,” Ayaka said, her calm voice like the gentle ripple of a stream. “The merchants will be in attendance, along with several envoys from Liyue and Fontaine. It will give us an opportunity to strengthen alliances.”

You nodded, already knowing your role in such events. As his spouse, you were expected to play the part of a gracious hostess, perfectly polished, and in sync with your husband’s impeccable image. But beneath your poised demeanor, you felt the familiar weight in your chest. These events always served as a reminder of the distance between you and Ayato, that mask of formality that the both of you put on to appear as the perfect couple.

He arrived at the breakfast table later than usual, his amethyst eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before he took the tea that you had poured for him. He looked tired as usual, his gentle smile masking his fatigue. “The preparations are coming along well, I trust?” he asked, his voice calm and measured.

“Yes,” you replied with a small smile. “Everything should be in order.”

He gave a short nod, taking a sip of his tea before speaking again. “Good. I appreciate your attention to these details.” There was no warmth in his tone, only polite acknowledgment, and you had long since stopped expecting more. But still, a compliment was a compliment and you could only bask in the small amount of attention he showed you.

⊱ ─── ⋅♡⋅ ─── ⊰

The estate of the Hiiragi sparkled with lanterns and elegant decor. You and Ayato arrived hand in hand quite early, and as more guests arrived, you greeted them with a smile that you had perfected over the years. Your kimono was intricately detailed, the colors chosen to complement Ayato’s attire, though the two of you felt like mere actors on a stage rather than a married couple.

Ayato was by your side, as expected, and his demeanor was calm and charming as he greeted prominent figures. His gentle words flowed with ease, and the guests hung onto every syllable. Occasionally, his hand would hold yours, but it was fleeting, a mere formality rather than a gesture of affection, causing your heart to ache briefly before you force that pleasant smile onto your face.

As the evening progressed, the air buzzed with conversation and subtle power plays. You found yourself caught in the intricate dance of politics, where every word and gesture held weight. But you were used to this, you had been his wife for years now. One of the envoys from Fontaine, a stern-looking man, started to engage you in conversation. At first, the exchange was cordial, but you quickly realized he was testing you, his tone growing sharper with every word.

“I see the Yashiro Commission’s manners are as refined as ever,” he said, his gaze flickering to Ayato before settling back on you. “Though I wonder, Lady Kamisato, do you share your husband’s understanding of the intricate trade agreements we are discussing?”

The subtle condescension in his voice made your pulse quicken. You smiled politely, trying to recall the specifics Ayaka had briefed you on earlier. But the man’s relentless questioning caught you off guard, and a slight misstep in your response sent a ripple through the nearby conversations. A murmur spread among the guests, and the envoy’s sharp laugh cut through the air.

“I suppose not everyone can grasp the complexities of international trade,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. Before you could respond, he picked up a cup of tea from the table and tipped it over, the warm liquid spilling onto your hair and shoulders. It dripped down your body, staining your kimono. For a moment, you couldn’t move or breathe. Your vision blurred as the murmurs around you grew louder, your pulse pounding in your ears.

The shock of it froze you in place. Your composure shattered as you felt the heat reach your face and the sting of humiliation in your chest. Gasps erupted from the surrounding guests, but the man seemed unbothered, already turning away to rejoin another group.

Ayato stepped forward, his expression unreadable, and his hand reached out toward you. But before he could speak, you bolted from the room, the tears you had fought so hard to hold back finally spilling over as embarrassment filled your entirety.

You knew your husband wouldn’t defend you if it meant trying to keep those trade dealings ongoing. You didn’t want to blame him for doing so, but you also wouldn’t dare to look him into his eyes. Thoughts after thoughts flood your mind. You weren’t good enough for him. You’ll never be good enough for him. Everything was ruined because of you, and you were sure he thought the same.

After all, Kamisato Ayato was a man who strived for the best. He sacrificed a lot for the sake of his clan, including his own happiness and leisure. How could you, of all people, ruin that?

You ran through the dimly lit halls of the estate, vision blurred by your hot tears. The air of the cool night hit your face as you stepped outside into the garden, seeking refuge among the quiet cherry blossom trees. The hum of the party grew faint behind you, but your sorrow only grew as time passed.

It wasn’t long before you heard footsteps behind you. You turned to see your husband standing there, his usually composed expression slightly off.

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of urgency. “Are you alright?”

That simple question broke something within you. The dam you carefully built over years of silent suffering had burst, and the words spilled out before you could stop them.

“Alright?” You echoed, your voice trembling. “How could I possibly be alright, Ayato? Do you know what it feels like to be humiliated like that in front of everyone? Do you even care?”

His eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing, and his silence only fueled your anger.

He must have thought you looked like an idiot. Surely, he must have. Maybe he was even disappointed in you. Maybe… he didn’t even want you to be his wife anymore.

Something broke within you.

“All of these years, I have tried so hard to be the perfect wife for you, to support you in everything you do, even when you barely acknowledge my existence. And tonight, when I needed you the most, you just stood there, just watching me be humiliated.”

“Y/n…” His voice was soft, almost hesitant, but you shook your head, tears streaming down your face. You don’t notice how he reached out to touch your cheek gently in an attempt to comfort you, only to retract it like he had just touched a flame once you had looked up at him.

“No,” you said, your voice cracking. “I’m done pretending that this doesn’t hurt, that you haven’t hurt me. Every day, I feel like I’m just a burden to you, like I don’t belong in your world. I wait for you every single night, but you’re never there. I want to hold your hand and… and help carry your burdens… I want to kiss you and love you. That’s why I can’t do this anymore, Ayato. I just… I can’t. You kissed me once, so sweetly, on our wedding day. I dreamt about it last night, and it hurt because that was the last time I felt like you ever truly saw me.”

There was a long silence after that. For a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say something, but the words never came. Instead, his expression softened into something you couldn’t quite place—regret perhaps, or even pity.

You didn’t want him to pity you. You just wanted him to love you. You wanted to be his light, his world. His wife.

“Do you even love me?” You finally asked.

That large question was met with even more silence. His lips parted slightly as if to answer, but no words came. His gaze then shifted, somewhere between anguish and restraint, before it fell elsewhere.

You then let out a shaky breath, the weight of your emotions finally left you feeling hollow.

“I’m sorry for burdening you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

And before he could respond, you turned and ran away, leaving him alone in the moonlit garden.

Surprisingly, you felt free after those words. Free, yet the sorrow in your heart kept pouring out. It kept pouring out like the most bitter tears in the world.

You collapsed onto the ground in your room, gripping your wedding ring. You wanted to hold on to the sweetness of your memories, but they slipped through your fingers like grains of sugar dissolving in water. You thought about your dream from last night, your wedding, the way he had kissed you so sweetly.

Even now, the memory felt like a trick your mind had played, a fleeting glimpse of something that was never real. And the more you tried to cling on to it, the more you realized that the sweetness of such memories had faded into a bitterness within your heart.

A lonely, bittersweet love.

bitter part 1

#kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #genshin impact x reader #ayato x reader angst #genshin impact #kamisato ayato x reader angst

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sansaorgana · 8 months ago

Text

— DAMAGED GOODS

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Rabban/Harkonnen!OC

SUMMARY — The servants have been telling Baron Harkonnen many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his twin sister is close. Very close. Too close. The Baron only chuckles at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha is a warrior he wants him to be and his sister remains out of his sight.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The Reader is a Rabban/Harkonnen. I've described some of her looks – her skin is pale but not because she is *white* but because they're all pale (due to the pollution and lack of normal sunlight I guess). She has hair but it's white. I didn't describe the structure of her hair or anything and the colour is caused by the lack of pigment. Her facial features are not described in any way. Oh, and she has black teeth, too... 😁 It will be explained in the fic. I tried to make it an x Reader fic but, yeah, quite a lot about her looks is described. On the other hand, I hope it's understandable since she's Feyd's twin. I am very happy that I received this request because I've been itching to write something like that for a long time. 🤍

WARNINGS — INCEST, SMUT, non/dub-con, breeding

WORD COUNT — 6,610

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DAMAGED GOODS

Baron Harkonnen was ready to leave Lankiveil with his two nephews – small Feyd-Rautha in one of the female servants’ arms and teenage Glossu on whose shoulder The Baron was keeping his hand on. He didn’t have any heirs of his own so one day he’d name one of the boys his Na-Baron and give them his Harkonnen surname.

They nearly reached the ship when one of the female servants of Lankiveil ran up to them with a small bundle in her arms.

“My Lord,” she called out and The Baron turned around, irritated. The woman was terrified of him but she still had her duties. “What about the girl, my Lord?” She asked.

The Baron squinted his eyes at the child in her arms. Feyd-Rautha’s twin sister (Y/N) Rabban – he had no use for her.

“Give her to the Bene Gesserit or kill her, I do not care,” he commented as Glossu’s muscles stiffened under his uncle’s touch.

“She is my sister,” his eyes widened at those words. “Please, let her come with us.”

“You will soon realise that women on Giedi Prime hold no significance. A girl…” Baron Vladimir winced. “I do not wish to raise her. She will be a burden.”

“Then I will raise her. I will take care of her,” Glossu pleaded. “And one day you will find her a match, someone to marry to create a powerful alliance. She will be useful,” he kept convincing.

The Baron wanted to be feared even amongst his family members. But he didn’t want to be hated by his older nephew from the first day. Irritated, he sighed and waved his hand at the maid.

“Fine, I shall take her,” he sighed.

Hesitantly, the maid handed the child to Glossu Rabban as his uncle gave him a scolding look.

“You’re responsible for her now,” he reminded.

“She is my sister. Her place is with me and Feyd,” Rabban nodded.

About this one thing he was stubborn and about this one thing he would fight even his own uncle. Baron Vladimir decided it would be for the best to let the boy have it his way.

(Y/N) and Feyd were raised differently – he was raised to be a strong warrior and his uncle’s pet. Relentless in combat, obedient to his Master, an enjoyer of pain. Inflicting it on others but also the pain being inflicted upon him. Psychotic and murderous. His twin sister was kept away from such an environment by her older brother. He wanted her to become a grand lady. Of course Glossu Rabban had no idea about women’s education but he made sure that his little sister had dozens of tutors. The smarter and more courteous she was, the easier it would be to sell her in a marriage union one day. It didn’t mean she was easy to manage. Ever since she was a little girl, she would cause trouble by following her twin brother everywhere and wanting to be as mischievous as him. He was given the Harkonnen surname and the title of na-baron. She was just Countess (Y/N) Rabban. Many thought she was actually Glossu Rabban’s daughter. Despite being raised differently, her and Feyd were inseparable.

They were not identical twins – she was a splitting image of her mother while he remained a mix of both parents. He was born bald like most of The Harkonnens, she was lucky to keep her hair even though it lacked pigment and was snowy white. The only thing in common they had was their sickly pale Harkonnen skin… and their blood.

The servants had been telling The Baron many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his sister was close. Very close. Too close. The Baron would only chuckle at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha was a warrior he wanted him to be and his sister remained out of his sight and out of big trouble that would require him to intervene.

(Y/N)’s chambers were connected to Feyd’s with the tall, black doors. In fact, they resided in the chambers of The Baron and The Baroness Harkonnen. These chambers had not been used in many years before Feyd was given them by his uncle in his teenage years. It was only natural that (Y/N) followed to the room attached to his. But most mornings, the servants would not find her in her bed. She was being found in her brother’s embrace, their legs intertwined, her hands wrapped around his muscular chest. As if they were still two embryos in their mother’s womb.

She could swear, she could feel pain when he was experiencing it. And out of them two, only he enjoyed it. It brought her no pleasure to see his scars from their uncle’s punishments. She would kiss them all better, every thin line of scarred flesh upon his back would be soothed with her lips. She loved to watch him train, following him around like a puppy at first but then she grew to be a fine woman herself and she no longer gave such innocent energy. All the years of trying to be invisible for her uncle had taught her how to slither around the fortress like a snake; always observant, always on guard, always quiet and unnoticeable.

(Y/N) focused so hard on not being a bother for her uncle that she forgot other people might notice her, too.

The Baron was staring at the veiled old woman in front of him with a contemptuous smirk. Of course he would follow the Bene Gesserit's order in the end whether he wanted it or not but he needed her to see that he was not as easy to control as most of the lesser lords.

“What are you asking of me, woman?” He asked as he looked her up and down.

The Bene Gesserit sighed. She knew perfectly well that he had heard her before.

“I want to put Countess Rabban to the test of Gom Jabbar to see if she’s fit for the marriage union that shall be arranged between her and Prince Paul Atreides,” she repeated her words.

“I am not fond of that girl but she is the closest thing to a daughter I have ever had,” The Baron shook his head. “What makes you think I would give her away to an Atreides?”

“Atreides was supposed to have a daughter who would be a match for your nephew Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. His concubine gave him a son instead but it doesn’t have to mean the match cannot be arranged. After all, Feyd-Rautha has a twin sister sharing his genetic material with him.”

“And what do I get of this union?” The Baron snorted.

“Control over your enemy; The Atreides family,” the Bene Gesserit nodded her head.

“Control over them? By sending that girl over there?” The Baron laughed at the idea. “She’s a weak woman. She won’t have control over anything.”

“Paul Atreides is a boy of a gentle nature, I have tested him already. Countess Rabban will easily push him in all the directions you will ask her to,” the woman tried to convince The Baron. He knew that if he’d argue even further she would just use The Voice.

“Alright then,” he shrugged his arms. “Put her to a test. If she dies, you’ll be the one breaking the news to her brothers. I won’t deal with their pathetic tears.”

Feyd didn’t know where his sister was. It was unusual for her not to wait in her chambers in the evening. Either way, he ordered the servants to fill the bathtub with water and then told them to leave as he sank into the warm liquid after a long day filled with combat training.

The doors opened after a while and (Y/N) entered the room. She had an odd expression on her face as if she was bothered with something and he spotted a few beads of sweat upon her forehead.

“Where were you?” Feyd squinted his eyes at her.

“The Bene Gesserit asked me to join her for a while. She did something weird to me,” she answered as she worked on her dress swiftly to take it off as quickly as possible.

“What do you mean weird?” Feyd tilted his head as he watched her undress. The folds of her skirt and bodice fell down to the floor and revealed her smooth skin and all the curves.

He had asked his older brother about their mother only once. His question had been about her looks. “What did she look like?”, young Feyd had asked. And all Glossu had answered was – “Just look at our sister”.

“She put me to a test. You’d like it,” (Y/N) smirked at him as she turned around to face him and join him in the bathtub. “It was painful,” she admitted and leaned her back on the edge, facing him. She let out a relaxed moan at the feeling of the warm water.

“She hurt you,” Feyd’s question was more of a statement as his jaw clenched.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) let out a laugh at his reaction. “Such a strong warrior you are and look at you, your older sister is your weakness,” she teased.

“Twenty minutes older,” Feyd scoffed as she chuckled at his annoyance. “Age does not matter, I could snap your neck in a second, dear sister. You have no idea how to defend yourself,” he pointed out angrily.

“Grumpy, grumpy, Feyd,” she giggled as she moved closer to him and sat astride him. Her hands caressed his muscular chest. “Don’t be so sure I’m that helpless… I’ve been watching you train my whole life. I’ve learnt a thing or two,” she lowered her face to whisper into his ear.

He felt his cock twitching at the feeling of her body on his; her sweet breath on his ear, her whisper sending shivers down his spine. He knew she didn’t mind. In fact, she was feeding off of his desire; teasing him mercilessly over and over. One thing Rabban had made very clear was that she could not be touched by any man before her wedding. But it did not mean that Feyd hadn’t been fantasising about it many times before.

She was an absolute perfection. She was like a reflection in the mirror. And who could be more beautiful and breathtaking than Feyd-Rautha himself? She was his missing part like he was hers. They completed each other in many ways but in other ways they were exactly the same. Their heartbeats and breaths were in sync, their desires were the same and he could not tell anymore whether he craved her because of the strong resemblance or had he been the one to spoil her. His childhood experience full of violence and cruelty turned him into a hypersexual predator who would fuck anything and anyone. He had been the first one to put the sexual context into their innocent touches and kisses. On the other hand, she had played along very quickly.

In the whole wide world, his twin sister was the only person who knew and understood him. They had no secrets with each other.

“You’re getting too excited, brother,” she pointed out with a smirk as she threw her arms around his neck. He looked up at her face looming over his. She was even more beautiful like that – on top of him, in control.

“You’re mine,” he let out a raspy whisper as she raised one of her white eyebrows at him. “You’re mine and only mine. Forever,” he breathed out.

“That’s an interesting concept, Feyd-Rautha,” she smiled, “but you do know that our brother is raising me to be another man’s lady.”

“You will be my Baroness and if our brother stands in the way of that happening, I will slay him,” Feyd threatened and his sister moved uncomfortably at his words.

“Stop talking nonsense,” she rose up to leave the bathtub already but Feyd grabbed her by her hair and pulled her down again as she hissed out of discomfort. He hated to inflict pain on her out of all the people but sometimes he just… had to.

“I do mean that,” he drawled as her eyes widened at him.

“I know,” she only said and he licked his lips at the sight of her chest rising up and down as she breathed heavily. He let go of her and watched her leave the bathtub and the bathroom without a word.

Feyd left the bathtub, too. He put on a simple black robe and went back to his room. His sister was laying on his bed, completely naked and playing with one of his short knives in her hands. He sighed with relief at the sight. He expected her to be offended and go to her room before locking the doors for the night.

“I’ll be back in a while,” he told her and approached the doors leading to the corridor. She snorted and he froze.

“You’re like a dog, dear brother. You men are so easy to control with your sexual urges and desires,” she commented and Feyd clenched his jaw as he turned his head around to look at her.

“I’m trying very hard not to violate you. Don’t tease,” he warned.

“Your own sister?” She grinned, showing off her black teeth.

As a child, she had insisted on dyeing them just like her twin brother. Glossu had refused – it would make her look less appealing for the future suitors. Even The Baron had told her it had not been the best idea. (Y/N) had not listened. She had sneaked into the medical wing and had done it herself. At twelve years old she had ruined herself for the first time for Feyd-Rautha.

That had been the only time when Glossu had actually punished her physically. Feyd still remembered because he had been waiting for her by the doors leading to his brother’s chambers. She had been screaming and kicking her feet while getting her arse spanked. After leaving the room, she had sniffled all the tears back and grinned at Feyd with her new black smile. “I’ve gotten my arse whooped,” she had told him proudly as if it was an achievement.

Some time later she had been caught wanting to shave her head off but it was Feyd this time who had stopped her – telling her how much he loved it, how it was making her look different than all the other women around. How much power that hair was giving her. It had made her hesitantly put the scissors down.

And now, Feyd did not answer her teasing accusation as he left the bedroom to go to his concubines, leaving his sister alone. He would join her later, when she would already be asleep. He’d pull her closer and she’d open her arms to welcome him. He’d fall asleep caressing the soft curves of her body and feeling her heartbeat pressed to his.

Two weeks later he trained as usual while (Y/N) sat nearby and watched. She would clap her hands excitedly each time he’d succeed and make a boo sound each time he’d lose. There was lots of mockery in her exaggerated reactions but he couldn’t imagine training without her around anymore.

At the sight of his brother entering the courtyard, Feyd lowered his blade and gave him an unpleasant look.

“What do you want? Why are you interrupting me?” He asked Glossu.

“I am not here for you,” his brother extended his hand towards their sister. “(Y/N), come with me. It is important,” he insisted and she whined. “Our uncle requires your presence.”

“Why?” Feyd barked. He did not like the idea of his uncle wanting something from his sister.

“It is none of your business, Feyd,” Glossu snapped at him and a second later he already had his brother’s knife pressed to his neck.

“Everything regarding (Y/N) is a business of mine,” Feyd hissed.

“Leave him alone,” she approached them as she ordered her twin brother. He took a step back and lowered the blade but only because it was her ordering him. She would always defend Glossu in all the arguments between the brothers. Feyd knew why – their older brother had been the closest thing to a father she had. He protected her, too. And that was the only thing Glossu and Feyd had in common. The love for their sister.

But only one of them loved her… so much.

She put her hands around Glossu’s arm and allowed him to lead her out of the courtyard. Feyd waved his hand dismissively at the servant he had been fighting with as he decided to follow them.

“Your presence was not requested,” his brother remarked.

“Don’t tease him so,” (Y/N) scolded him and he shut his mouth.

Glossu led them to the throne room where their uncle was sitting. But he was not alone. He had guests. Feyd and (Y/N) recognised them immediately from the pictures. The Atreides family – dignified and regally looking Duke Leto Atreides with his beautiful concubine Lady Jessica of The Bene Gesserit. Between them there was a young man standing – their son, Prince Paul Atreides. He was visibly trying to put on a brave face but he was scared and his eyes avoided the siblings who had just entered the room.

“Ah, here they are,” The Baron beckoned them over with his hand as he announced them. “My eldest nephew Count Glossu Rabban and his beloved younger sister, my niece, Countess (Y/N) Rabban.”

She let go of her older brother’s hand and stepped out to bow down slightly. Feyd sneered at that. He always would whenever she’d act like a lady – like their brother and uncle wanted her to. Like she had been taught to ever since she was a little girl.

“That insolent young man standing behind her is my heir and (Y/N)’s twin brother, Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” The Baron gave Feyd a scolding look.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lords, my Lady,” Duke Leto nodded his head at all of the siblings.

“(Y/N), child, come closer,” The Baron cooed to her unusually. He would often put on such a show in front of important guests as if he wasn’t treating her like air most of the time. But Feyd was glad that his uncle actually ignored his sister. Otherwise it would be more difficult to protect her.

She approached the guests with furrowed brows, visibly confused by this situation. Feyd’s heart already squeezed inside of his chest as he had a feeling what that was about.

“You will be married to Prince Paul Atreides,” The Baron informed her as if it was nothing.

Feyd looked at Glossu first but his brother did not look surprised at all. He had to know already and it made Feyd feel even angrier as he treated it as betrayal. He shot his uncle a furious glance and then he laid his eyes on his twin sister. To his surprise, she was smiling softly at the shy and gently looking young man.

“It is a great honour,” she bowed her head and Paul Atreides flinched a little. She noticed it. “Do not be scared of me, my Lord,” she chuckled delicately. “I am nothing like my brothers.”

Feyd gritted his teeth. Without a word – rudely and risking his uncle’s punishment – he turned around and left the room.

He saw her again in the evening. He had been training intensely for the past few hours, trying to let the frustration go. The doors leading to her bedroom were ajar and he peeked inside. (Y/N) was packing her things into black wooden chests.

“What are you doing?” Feyd asked her as his blood ran cold.

“I shall take a different room from now on. It is inappropriate for us to share one,” she muttered without even looking up at him.

“Since when do you care?” Feyd leaned on the wall and watched her carefully, trying not to show how much he was panicking on the inside.

“Since I am getting married soon,” she shrugged her arms and he snorted at her.

“You really think I’m going to allow this union, dear sister?” He asked and she turned her face around with her brows furrowed.

“You have nothing to say in that matter, brother,” she reminded him. “You are nothing but our uncle’s pet. The psychotic and fearsome Feyd-Rautha… If only they knew that you’re not scary at all,” she remarked as his jaw clenched.

“I will kill him if I must. That boy, Paul Atreides,” Feyd threatened.

“We both know you will not. It would have consequences greater than you and I can even imagine,” she smiled but he noticed the curls of her lips twitching. She was nervous.

“How can you not oppose this marriage?” Feyd let his guard down as he asked genuinely, expecting an answer just as honest.

His sister’s facial expression changed as well. She approached him and cupped his face in her delicate, soft hands.

“I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime eventually. I could only hope for a good husband and Paul Atreides is good. He is young and pretty and naive. My life as his Duchess will be easy and pleasant,” she explained softly. “I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime and I couldn’t wait for that day. I want to… No, I need to get away from here… from you,” she whispered as his eyes widened at her revelation. “You’re poisonous, Feyd-Rautha. You have spoiled me already, ruined me, stained me. And everywhere I go, our uncle’s sticky spiderweb surrounds me, suffocates me,” she finished before leaning in to place a gentle goodbye kiss upon his lips.

She wanted to move away but he grabbed her cheeks and aggressively pulled her closer once again, kissing her yet again but possessively and hungrily. She didn’t kiss him back this time.

When he finally let go of her, they were both breathing heavily but there was nothing but anger in their eyes.

“Stay away from me and stay away from Paul Atreides,” she warned her brother and he walked out of her room before slamming the doors behind him, furiously.

But Feyd did not stay away. Whenever he was not in the courtyard, training vigorously and slaying his opponents one after another with the ferocity he had not displayed before, he would follow (Y/N) and her husband-to-be around the fortress. He didn’t trust any servant to spy on them for him, no, he had to do it himself.

Paul Atreides was left alone for two weeks on Giedi Prime and after that time he would take the Countess with him to Caladan. He was scared of his betrothed’s planet as he was widening his eyes at everything as she explained to him gently. Usually Feyd was catching them in the maze of countlessly corridors as they walked together. Soft laughter of his sister occasionally filled the cold marble walls.

He was nearly always there; creeping in the shadows, watching, observing, gritting his teeth at her every smile or blush. Paul Atreides, visibly scared of her at first, was slowly starting to get used to her presence. And one day he dared to lean in and steal a delicate kiss from her lips.

Feyd clenched his fists at the sight as he was hiding behind the pillar. His sister’s lips had never been kissed before by any man other than him. His blood boiled when he realised that not only Paul Atreides would kiss her but also claim her as his own and put his weak and pathetic heirs inside her womb.

No, that could not happen. She was made for him, she was his other half. Feyd-Rautha would not let any other man take her away from him.

He turned around and quietly went to the living quarters where he found the room that now belonged to his sister. He barked at the servant girls to leave him and they ran away, startled by his anger. Once he was alone in (Y/N)’s bedroom, he patiently waited.

After a while, he heard her footsteps down the corridor. He would recognise them everywhere. He stood behind the doors as his heart pounded in his chest from the anticipation.

She pushed the doors open and walked inside, looking around for her servant girls. Feyd was standing behind her and observing her carefully, wondering when she’d notice him.

“I know you’re here,” she sighed without looking back. “I can recognise your stench,” she drawled.

He growled at her insolent words as he swiftly moved forward and grabbed her by her hair, pulling it by the roots and making her hiss out of pain. He pulled her closer to him, rested her body on his and smirked while pressing his cheek to hers.

“You’ve never seemed to complain about my scent before, dear sister,” he pointed out.

“I meant that you stink of sweat and blood at this very moment,” she fixed herself, still wincing out of pain he was inflicting upon her. “What do you want from me?”

“I saw you with him,” he breathed out.

“I know. I see you in the shadows every time,” she sneered. “I recommend finding a different hobby.”

“You’re mine. If you think I’m going to let you leave Giedi Prime, carry his surname and bear his filthy Atreides children in your womb, then you are mistaken, sister,” Feyd whispered angrily into her ear before biting on her earlobe.

She did not answer but in her eyes he spotted fear. Real fear, not her usual playful demeanour. For the first time in her life she was truly scared of her twin brother. Perhaps for the first time she understood why others feared him.

Still holding her by her white hair, he walked her to the bed and threw her on it. She immediately tried to crawl away and run away from him but he grabbed her ankle and watched her struggle with a smirk.

“Leave me alone,” she tried to command him. And usually he would listen to her orders but not now, too blinded by jealousy.

In one swift movement he brought her closer by her ankle and tore her dress and underwear open with his small knife. She looked up at him with anger, fear and a dose of excitement that made him smirk. Her body betrayed her – she wanted it, too.

He was rock hard already at the sight of her like that for him. She was like a prey on display for him to feast upon. Feyd licked his lips and turned her around. He took his cock out of his leather pants as she tried to stand up on her shaky hands and legs to get away. Before she’d move too far, he pulled her close once again with a laugh.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he threatened and pressed his blade under her chin.

On her hands and knees with her beautiful white hair resting on her back – he had been dreaming of claiming her from behind this way for years now. She was trembling out of fear and anger but she couldn’t scream for help when his blade was so close to her larynx.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned in closer to her ear. “You’re my other half.”

He felt her swallowing thickly under his blade as he smirked to himself and moved the knife away. Before she could scream, he pushed her head down into her pillow, muffling any sound that would leave her mouth.

“No Atreides will fuck you. No other man will at all, for that matter,” he barked at her, his cock twitching already at the sight of her exposed womanhood. “You’re mine,” he reminded her.

She tried to protest but he couldn’t understand the words she was saying. He pressed her head even deeper into the pillow and with his free hand he ran across her folds, finding her clit and pinching it as she squealed and kicked her feet.

She was so delicate and sensitive, his dear sister. He took a deep breath in as he was starting to get dizzy from the sight and smell alone. He worked his fingertips around her sweet spot and noticed her muscles relaxing as her will to fight him off started to subdue gradually. At the first feeling of her warm wetness, he gathered it and brought his fingers to his mouth. Feyd hummed at the taste.

“Do you know what you taste like?” He asked her angrily and pulled her hair again. She shook her head. “Like me,” he pointed out. “Because we belong together,” he reminded her and she whined.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed her now. He pumped his hard cock a few times before lining it up with her tight hole. Feyd nearly felt bad for his sweet sister, for the pain she would experience now. But no feeling was stronger than his lust.

He entered her in one deep thrust while she yelped and writhed; even the pillow was not able to muffle the pathetic sound leaving her mouth. He closed his eyes at the feeling of her warm and tight walls spasming around his length. She was perfect, she was made for him and him only. They were finally complete again; one body, one soul.

“You will rule with me as my Baroness,” he hissed as his hips began to thrust into her. “We will bring back the old traditions, keep our bloodline pure. And you will give me heirs,” he crooned to her maliciously. “You were made to do that, sweet sister. Made for me. Me,” he kept repeating.

She drooled and sobbed into the soft silky pillow as her hands were clutching on the sheets. She was helpless under him but what she hated the most was that part of her that did not want him to stop. That part of her that felt the same way as her brother – complete at the feeling of him fucking her. Like she was finally connected to the long lost part of her body.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head with each of his thrust, filling her so thoroughly, making her feel full and overwhelmed as he was hitting all the right spots inside of her. She knew that sweet and gentle Paul Atreides would never claim her this way. No one would. Only her twin brother knew how to please her. He understood her more than anybody else.

He spoiled her, he ruined her, he was poisonous. But who said she didn’t want it? Her body betrayed her as it admitted that she craved it.

What she feared were the consequences of this act. The consequences of breaking the fragile truce with The Atreides, the consequences of breaking up the engagement that had been not only prepared by The Baron himself but also plotted by the dangerous Bene Gesserit.

None of it mattered, though. None of it was important with Feyd's cock buried so deep inside of her, his hand pushing her face into the pillow and making her suffocate slightly, which only enhanced the pleasure. His free hand was squeezing her hip and marking it as he grunted and cooed to her all those blasphemous promises about their shared life together, their compatibility, their bodies being made for one another.

She came first; suddenly and without a warning. Her body spasmed and trembled as her limbs went numb. At the feeling of her tight walls fluttering around his cock, Feyd reached his peak right after but he did not pull out for a long time, emptying himself as deep inside of her as he could; straight into her womb.

His sister whined at the feeling of his thick, black cum coating her walls but now, after his release, most of his anger was gone as well, so he just caressed her head and shushed her.

“Shh, dear sister, just take it like you were made to,” he cooed and she didn’t have any strength in her body to fight it anymore.

When he eventually pulled out, he watched her pussy twitching deliciously as a small streamlet of his black cum leaked out of it and stained her grey sheets, mixing with a few droplets of blood.

“Now, when you’ve been claimed by me,” Feyd smirked to himself proudly as he hid his cock back into his pants, “no other man will want you. Not when you’re surely carrying my spawn in your womb,” he added and left the room without a word.

He refused to watch her laying there and sobbing silently, trying to collect her breath and clumsily stand up to go to the bathroom. Some part of him regretted his act and seeing his beloved sister in such a state was bringing him no pleasure. He couldn’t take this back now, though, and he didn’t want to. It just had to be done.

The room was dead silent. Old Bene Gesserit woman was staring at Countess Rabban in disbelief and the young woman held her head down with her hands clasped around her abdomen as if she was protecting her spawn from The Reverend Mother’s gaze.

Both Baron Harkonnen and Duke Atreides looked displeased but only the second one was also visibly disgusted. His son was standing by his side; shocked and scared. Saddened. Disappointed.

Glossu Rabban’s face showed nothing but disappointment and disgust as well. His anger was aimed mostly at his younger brother. He refused to believe his sister could be as rotten as Feyd-Rautha – the only person in the room who actually looked proud as he straightened himself and smirked at everyone gathered inside.

“What are you smiling about, boy?” The Reverend Mother scolded him. “Have you got any idea what you have done?”

“I’ve claimed my sister as my own. It is an old tradition of the Great Houses to practise,” he reminded her.

“Which was abandoned a long time ago for a reason!” The Bene Gesserit snapped at him. “Your sister was supposed to give birth to Paul Atreides’ son and bring Kwisatz Haderach to life!”

“I do not care about your schemes,” Feyd rolled his eyes as he moved closer to his sister.

“Stay away from her,” Glossu barked.

“Or what? She’s already carrying my child inside of her, is she not?” Feyd asked, proudly as most of the room flinched with disgust.

“She can still bear Kwisatz Haderach,” The Baron tried to desperately save the situation. “We can get rid of that spawn inside of her and still give her to Paul Atreides. Obviously, not as a wife anymore,” he assured Duke Leto. “As a whore that she apparently is.”

Feyd clenched his jaw at his words as he took a step ahead of (Y/N) and covered her body with his from the sight.

“Over my dead body any of you will touch my sister or my child,” he drawled through gritted teeth.

“Inbreeding your bloodline might have morbid consequences,” The Reverend Mother informed him. “She’s carrying a demon.”

Feyd snorted at her. Was he supposed to be scared of her words? They only made him even more proud.

At those words, Baron Harkonnen squinted his eyes at the Bene Gesserit woman. He visibly liked the idea of having demonic heirs as well.

“I've changed my mind. We will not get rid of the child,” he decided. “Feyd-Rautha is my na-baron. If he chooses to marry his twin sister, then that is his right,” he said.

“That is plain disrespect!” Duke Leto raised his voice. “We have agreed to this union despite the bride being… not of the best quality. We have brought our son here, to this poisoned planet and nothing but humiliation awaited him here.”

Duke Leto pushed his son lightly in the direction of the doors as they walked out, offended. The guards looked at The Baron Harkonnen questioningly.

“Let them go,” he chuckled. “Soon, their time will come anyway.”

“Not before we secure young Paul Atreides’ bloodline!” The Reverend Mother widened her eyes at him as she ran after Duke Leto. “My Lord, please wait, I have another brides to offer that will suit your son just right…!” Her voice disappeared when the heavy doors closed behind them all.

“So, it’s settled,” Baron Harkonnen took a look at his nephews and niece as he puffed on his pipe and sighed. “You owe me for that, Feyd,” he pointed out and his young nephew bowed down. “I knew that you children would bring me nothing but trouble.”

“I am sorry!” Glossu exclaimed all of sudden as everyone looked at him, surprised. “I am sorry for failing, uncle! I was supposed to look after her, to protect her, to make sure everything goes right…”

“But everything did go right,” Baron Harkonnen laughed contemptuously. “(Y/N), darling, come here…” He reached his hand out and the young woman nodded her head before approaching her uncle, obediently. “When you were a little baby, I wanted to get rid of you,” he admitted as he held her hand. “Your brother Glossu was the one to convince me you would be useful one day. He swore to raise you.”

(Y/N) didn’t react to those words. She only stood there and looked deep into her uncle’s eyes.

“Turns out he was right,” The Baron continued, “you are very useful for The House Harkonnen. You will bear us strong heirs that shall take over the whole Empire…” He hummed and she nodded. “From now on, even before your wedding to your brother, you will be known as Countess (Y/N) Harkonnen. I adopt you,” he announced as her eyes sparkled.

“Thank you, uncle,” she let go of his hand to take a step back and bow her head down.

Feyd stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Glossu was staring at them as if he wanted to kill them both at that moment. Even his baby sister whom he had raised was suddenly more important in the family hierarchy than him.

“You have my blessing,” The Baron told them and dismissed them all with a wave of his hand.

Feyd walked his sister out of the throne room with his hands still on her shoulders. He was as protective as ever with her now when she was in her delicate state.

He took her back to their shared chambers to which she had returned recently. He sat her down on the edge of his bed and approached the vanity table to get a brush before sitting behind her and taking care of her long, white hair. Delicately working on every small tangle, sniffing the scent of her favourite hair oils, smiling to himself at the thought he would have her for himself forever from now on.

“Are you happy, dear sister?” He asked as he gathered her hair to throw it out of her left shoulder and place a kiss on the exposed skin of her neck.

“We belong together,” she answered, her hands still clasped on her abdomen protectively as if that demonic spawn inside of her needed protection. “I was made for you,” she added.

She would not get away from Giedi Prime. She would not be given to any lord and run away from The Harkonnens. In fact, now she was a Harkonnen, too. Her fate was to rule alongside Feyd-Rautha as his sister-wife.

“I asked, are you happy, dear sister?” He repeated the question, squinting his eyes at her.

She took a deep breath in. She knew that he would know if she lied to him but she didn’t feel the need to hide anything from him. Therefore, she spoke the truth:

“I am.”

MASTERLIST

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #lilysfiction #austin butler x reader

784 notes · View notes

helplesslypurple77 · 2 months ago

Text

Day 1-Wet dreams-Illumi/Reader

Notes: btw since you also come from a famous assassin clan your last name is Yomi(shadow in japanese, but it doesnt really mean your japanese or any aithnecity) and your parents make a brief appearance. I modeled them barely after my own parents but you can pretty much put any parents over them lol

Title from ‘You Can't Hurry Love' by The Supremes

...

Illumis knew you hated his guts. You walked with purpose from room to room, location to location, perfectly made up and neat in a kimono. You chatted with your assistants, handed out raises generously to the butlers, and laughed and smiled in the garden with your friends. But you barely spared him a glance. All you could muster was a small, fake smile, and maybe if you were in a good mood, a simple greeting.

“Hello, husband.”

You ground out the word ‘husband’ like it was a curse. Illumi would simply blink, and return your greeting.

“Hello, my wife.”

You would smile that fake plastic smile that always managed to appear when he was near, and remove yourself from the situation as fast as possible. Illumi didn't mind your attitude. He had no attachments to you, you were simply a woman his parents had picked. He knew you hadn't volunteered for this, and so he simply let your barbs roll off his shoulders and carried on with his day. He was sure he had no interest in you.

His parents had raised him not to fall for pretty women with pretty smiles. Pretty smiles that were never tossed his way.

He remembered so clearly your first meeting. Years ago, when you were both younger, when you were softer, when you smiled at him.

♡♡♡

“Straighten your collar.” Mother said. Illumis back twitched, reaching up to fiddle with the black collar of his kimono, pulling the white of his undershirt slightly, so it peaked over the outer collar. He felt stiff and trapped. And hot. Mother had combed his shoulder length hair neatly, so it fell prettily around his neck. Illumi felt like a bird, forced to preen for the sake of his parents. eighteen was too young to be engaged. Illumi frowned, brows furrowing across his pale skin.

“Tell me mother,” He asks. “Why must I do this? Why not Miluki.”

His mother cocks an eyebrow, standing across the small waiting room of their house. They are waiting for the guests.

“You're the most presentable of my children,” Kikyo said, straightening the hem of her dark purple kimono. Her eye visor blinked. “Straighten your back and try to make a good impression. That wedding Kimono was your fathers.”

Illumi raises his arm to run a hand through his hair, but freezes and Kikyo's glare. He lowers his hand back down slowly. Kikyo folds her hands delicately across her lap

“You know how important this alliance is, Illumi.” She scolds, “her family will be a vital asset.”

Illumi nods stiffly, adjusting his black haori. He doesn't want to marry. He doesn't want someone tying him down.

“Excited, son?” Silva has arrived, Zeno grumbling behind him. Illumi shakes his head.

“I don't want to marry,” He protests. SIlva laughs, landing a hand on Illumis shoulder.

“I know, but this match is quite important to the future of the Zoldyck clan.” He explains, patting Illumi gently on the shoulder. “Name is a powerful woman, whose talent will certainly be useful in the future. Not to mention an alliance with her family is ideal for us.”

Illumi nods obediently, absorbing the information. But nothing they say truly makes him want to do this. Silva laughs.

“Don't be too upset, son. I hear she's very beautiful.” He says with a chuckle, giving Illumi one last pat on the back, and moving towards Kikyo. She eyes him up and down, taking in his work attire, and sighs a great, gusty sigh. Before she can complain, the main door opens with a slam. They're here.

Kikyo stands tall, Silva next to her, Illumi beside him, Zeno on his other side. They stand in a neat line. Awaiting their visitors.

Illumi can make out five figures. Two silent handmaidens clothed in dark blue kimonos, sharp eyes demurely pointed down. Their obviously trained bodyguards. They walk in front of the three figures, deceptive smiles on their faces.

Next come two older figures. A tall, muscled man, who glares around the room. And a shorter woman, who smiles almost too kindly. They must be your parents, the leaders of your family. And before the, almost surrounded, almost protected, is a figure clothed in white and red.

You stand out brilliantly against the blues and blacks of the backgrounds, the white and red of your kimono almost glowing in the lamplight. But what strikes Illumi silent, is your face. You are beautiful. Illumi feels a weird beating in his chest. Your eyes dart nervously from person to person, never quite landing on him. Illumi fights down the odd desire to move forward, to do something. He doesn't know what. Kikyo is the first to speak

“How lovely to meet you,” She says, moving forward. Your mother moves in return, smiling at Kikyo and moving forward. The adults dissolve into pleasantries. Illumi stays still, as the room springs into motion around him. All he can see is you across from, glowing and clothed in white. Spit is gathering in his mouth, and Illumi gulps it down and moves forward.

“Hello,” He says when he stands before you. He sounds like a robot. You smile shyly, ribbons of hair falling down around your shoulders.

“Hi,” You say, offering a hand. Illumi looks at it. Your hand is small and delicate, with small rounded nails. They shimmered in the light. Illumi had the urge to kiss it. You frown.

“Not one for handshakes?” You ask, disguising your disappointment with a small laugh. Illumi frowns, grabbing your hand as it recedes.

“No!” Illumi gets out a little too eargerly. You look up at him, confusion in your pretty eyes. Illumi takes your hand in his own.

Your hand is soft and the back of his neck and his ears suddenly hot. You giggle nervously as Illumi gently lowers your hand, and a pretty flush graces your cheeks. Illumi almost preens like a bird. You liked him. He liked that. He liked you.

“We haven't introduced ourselves properly,” You say, a smile gracing your painted lips, Illumis eyes follow the movement. He feels strangely hungry.

“Yes,” He says. You wait, and when the silence continues, you speak first.

“I am Name Lastname, oldest daughter of the Yomi family.” You say. Your name is as pretty as you. Illumi nods.

“Illumi Zoldyck, eldest son of the Zoldyke family.” He says. You smile again, posture relaxing a little. Illumis eyes catch on the flash of skin as your collar slides down a bit. He can see a hint of collarbone.

“It's nice to meet you, Illumi,” You say. He likes the way your mouth forms the syllables of his name.

“You too, Name.” He returns. He still sounds like a robot, but as you smile, he feels himself relax a bit. The adults are still chatting around you, in a small circle as they talk about anything and everything, but all he can see is you in front of him. Suddenly, marriage doesn't sound so bad.

“Do you, um, want a tour?” he asks, his voice cracking a bit, he hopes you don't notice. A grin lights up your face, and you nod happily.

Oh yes,” You say, “i'd love one.”

Illumi almost smiles, but instead offers his arm. For a moment, he worries your won't take it. You’ll scoff and roll your eyes and leave to marry a much nicer boy—

Your hand wraps around his arm, heating his cold skin. Illumi shivers. As he leads you through the archway and deeper into the house, he can feel your presence next to him. The scent of your perfume lingers in the air. Intoxicating. Illumi feels hot, flustered, and emberassed. And for the first time in a while, happy.

“Well, what do we have here.”

Illumi looks up, already dreading the sight he knows hes gonna see. Sure enough, Hisoka stands before him, wearing jeans and a black tutrleneck and grinning like the cat that got the cream.

Illumi frowns.

“Whose this?” You asks. Your peartched beside him on the couch of the library, hands folded neatly in your lap. Illumi holds back a groan as Hisokas eyes slide to you. His eyes take you in, your pretty face and your white wedding kimono, and he smirks.

“Yeah Illumi, introduce me to your pretty lady friend.” Hisoka says. You giggle, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Illumi’s stomach sinks.

“This is Name, my fiance.” he says. “Name, meet Hisoka.”

“Hi,” You say, offering your hand to shake. Hisoka grins.

“Positivly enchanted to meet you.” Hisoka says, and grips your hand in his pale fingers, bringing it up to press a kiss to the top. Illumi glares. You giggle again, as the tips of Hisokas red hair brushes your wrist. Illumi glares harder. After what feels like forever, Hisoka recedes, and Illumi watches your hand fall back into your lap.

“So, Illumi.” Hisoka says, plopping between the two of you. “You didint tell me you were engaged.”

“In his defense, we just got engageed today.” You say, and Illumi is certain he can spot a blush across your cheeks. He curses Hisoka as you continue. “Are you guys close?”

“No.” Illumi says. HIsoka pouts very fakely.

“How rude.” He says, and illumi digs his finger into Hisokas side as the man leans over, stage whispering into your ear. “Im his only friend. Hes embarrassed.”

“I see,” You say with a laugh. “How old are you Hisoka?”

“20.” Hisoka says, swiping his hair away from his face.

“Oh, your older than us, huh.” You say, smiling much to nicely for Illumis liking. You sound like your enjoying yourself, and that makes him feel weird.

“You must be the same age as Illumi?” Hisoka asks. He continues at your nod. “Your so pretty and socialable, hes lucky..”

You laugh. Hisoka winks. Illumi jabs a second finger into Hisoka’s side.

“Thanks, your handsome too.” You say. “And very funny. Both of you are.”

Illumi digs a third finger into Hisoka’s side, but it only seems to egg him on. He only shoots Illumi a gleeful grin, then turns back to you.

“Why thank you, dear—”

“Im going to talk to him alone for a moment.” Illumi interrupts him, yaking him by his hair and dragging him away.

“Alright.” You say, waving them away with a smile.

Hisoka blows you a kiss, and Illumi yanks his hair harder, dragging him around a nearby bookcase, and release the hair like it had burned him. Hisoka is grinning from ear to ear.

“You jealous.” He says

“No!” Illumi shouts, then looks around frantically, before shaking his head. “No.” He repeats more calmly.

“Dont be embarrassed,” Hisoka says, leaning against the bookcase. “Its only natural to be jealous of me after all.”

He runs a hand through his hair with a grin. Illumi fake gags.

“Im not jealous.” Illumi says, doing his best to maintain his eaven tone.

“Oh really” Hisoki says, raising an eyebrow into his hairline. “Can i kiss her then?”

Illumi knows it bait. Hisoka is only doing this to annoy him, or taunt him. He always does shit like this. But he still feels all wierd. Illumi takes a deep breath.

“I dont care.” He says, putting on his best performance. “I dont even like her.”

“Oh yeah?” Hisoka asks, folding his arms. “You dont think shes pretty?”

“She’s unremarkable.” Illumi suplies, Hisoka doesnt look like he believes him, so he tries his best. “In everything, from looks to talents, she seems unfit to marry into this family!”

Hisoka’s eyebrow creeps higher and higher, but Illumi maintains his blank stair until he with a sigh. Theres silence for a moment, until Hisoka pushes off the bookcase,

“If you really dont mind, i think i will kiss her.” He says, walking back the way they came.

Illumi moves suddenly, grabbing Hisokas arm in a death grip. Hisoka turns around with a smirk, and sudcenly, Illumi understands hes been got.

“So you do li—”

“Shut up.” Illumi grinds out. “Dont tell.”

Hisoka grins. “Sure.”

♡♡♡

You never were friendly with him after that. You had vanished when he and Hisoka had returned, and you were cold and standoffish in the times he saw you, both before the wedding and in the two years that had passed after it. Illumi didint mind. Not a bit.

His chest feels a bit weird. Illumi brings his hand up, feeling above his heart. Maybe he was injured on todays mission.

He should check that out when he gets back to his quarters. Illumi walks down the long hallway, pausing for a split second in front of the only other door. Your door. You wouldnt want to see him. Still Illumi feels the urge to open your door, go in and see what you were doing. You were probably getting ready for bed. Illumi should just go to his room. With a huff of breath Illumi continues down the hallway and closes his door behin him. His chest is hurting more. He shrugs of his top, pocking at the skin over his heart. Oddly enough, theres no wound, only a few minor cuts on his side and abs.

“Illumi? I need to speake with you.” He hears your voice, coming from the connecting door between your room and his. His heart suddenly feels better.

“Come in.” He says. You enter, closing the door behind you with a creak. The hinges must be rusted. Your eyes skan him up and down taking in his half naked state.

“Why are you shirtless.” You say. Your ears are red, you must be hot.

Illumi gestures at his chest. “Injuries. What did you need to speak with me about?”

You ignore the first part, moving forward with worry. “Your injured?” You say, looking around the room. “Wheres your first aid kit. Ill help.”

“Theres no need.” Illumi protests.

You glare. “Am i that incompetent? Just let me do it.” you say, hands on your hips. Your wearing some satin nightgown thing. Its black, and the silky fabric stops high up on your thighs, fluttering distractingly. The fabric draws his eyes to the unbleamashed skin of your thighs.

You tap your foot on the floor. “First aid box?”

“In the bedside drawer.” Illumi settles back onto the bed with a sigh, you march over, first aid box in your vengeful hands and plop it down onto the bed. Rummaging through it, you find some alcohol and dab it onto a cotton pad. Illumi feels your breath on his skin as you bed over, disinfecting his first wound. He feels weird.

“You wanted to talk to me?” He prompts, ignoring the strange feelings in his gut. The silk of your nightgown slips a little, a black strap sliding down one sholder. You move it back up. Illumi moves his eyes from the movement.

“Oh yeah,” You say, gentle hands placing a bandaid on his wound. “I had tea with Kikyo this afternoon.”

Illumi frowns. Kikyo loves you, and always makes sure to assure him hes lucky to have you. Whenever the two of you have tea, its sure to prelude an angry summon and admonishment. His mother believed he wasnt working hard enough on your relationship. Illumi knew you would prefer he just leave you alone. His mother always rambled on about how you were hurt, and he was a fool. Illumi was not a fool.

“Fun.” Illumi says. You move to disinfect another wound. “How is she.”

“Good. She wants grandchildren.” You say. Your neck is also red. Illumi coughs.

“Are you hot?” Illumi asks. You frown in confusion.

“No?” You say. You look up, and Illumi watches the lace slide across the top of your boobs. He digs a hand into his thigh, trying to mute the arousal starting to creep through his body. He deosnt know much of sexual activity, but he certainly knoews this feeling.

“Ok.” Illumi says. You put one of his brothers discarded little mermaid bandaids on the cut under his left pec. He shivers involuntarily when your nails scrape his skin. “I can get grandchildren.”

You jerck up, a shocked expression on your face. “What?” Your face is flushed, the cotton pad dangling close to falling from your hand. He feels himself swell up, body heating with the things he had implied, and prays you dont notice. Illumi frowns his, heat gathering in his face.

“I can go steal some.” He explains, “Hisoka meantoned a friend of his who—”

“No Illumi.” You say, laughing a little. Illumi is proud he made you laugh. You move back towards him with the cotton pad as you continue. “How is Hisoka doing?”

“Fine.” Illumi says. He feels all grumply all of a sudden, and his heart is hurting again. “Hes fighting at Heavens Arena appearently.”

“That sounds perfect for him.” You say with another chuckle. Illumi feels his fingers dig into his palm, and relaxes them slowly. The arousal, which had faded slightly at Hisoka’s name, comes back in full force as your hands return and you lean down. Illumi gets and eyefull of your boobs, cupped in a plane black braw under the black lace. He looks up abruptly, begging you dont notice. You would probably never talk to him again if he made his arousal obvious. Thankfully your too busy tending to his wounds to notice.

“Anyway, Kikyo gave me something to give to you.” You say, your hand pressing a third bandaid, this one of lego batman, onto his abs. You smooth over it, hands lingering for what feels like hours on his abs. Illumi resists the urge to grab your wrists and guid them a few inches lower, to the part of him that really, really wants it. You sigh, pulling back

“There, all done.” You say.

Illumi feels both let down and relieved as you pull away, as your scent fades away with your body. Suddenly, you’re jerked to a stop.

“Illumi?” You say, glaring down pointedly. For a moment, Illumi fears you’ve discovered his obvious arousal. You’ll probably look at him in disgust or worse, storm from the room and nevver talk to him again. Illumi follows your eyes, and finds his hand has reached out to grab your wrist. He lets it go.

“What did you have to give to me?” he asks, pulling the offending hand back into his lap, trying to subtly cover any hints of his arousal.

“Oh right,” You say. “I forgot it in my room.”

You move through the door again, and Illumi finds his eyes drawn to the sway of satin over your ass. He curses his eyes, and takes a moment to at least try to banish all signs of arousal before you retur n.

“Here,” You say. In your hand is a vhs tape. “She said you should watch it.”

Illumi takes the tape and drops it thoughtlessly onto the bed beside him. You turn, moving back towards the door. Illumi feels the odd urge not to let you leave. Its probably the arousal talking.

“Wait.” He says impulsive. Your turn.

“Yes?” You ask, tapping a foot on the floor. “What else?”

Illumi frowns helplessly. He feels the strongest urge to keep you here with him. But your glaring at him, and he cant come up with an excuse to stop you from leaving. So he lets you go.

“Nothing.”

The door slams behind you and his eyes sink to the Vhs tape beside him. Its obviously old, the label worn with age. It says ‘instructional tape,’. Gingerly, Illumi sets the vhs tape on his coffee table, and with sweaty hands, and arousal pumping through his body, goes to change for bed.

♡♡♡

Your tyring to walk away from him again. Desperation fuiling his fingertips, Illumi reaches for you. If you leave now, through the black hole of a door between your rooms, he knoes he’ll never see you again. Illumi feels his fingers close around your thin wrists, jerking you to a stop. You turn, looking down at the hand wrapped around your wrist.

“What do you want, Illumi?” You ask. The black fabric of your nightgown highlights your skin, and you look so beautiful under the lowlight. Illumi finds himself taking a deep breath.

“Mother wants grandchildren.” He says, voice stilted. You nod, as he continues. “So, we should maker her some.”

You stare at him for a moment, before yanking your arm from his wrists. Illumi almost begs you to stay. You cant go, you cant reject him like this. He doesnt know if he’ll ever recover. But instead of rejecting him, you bring your hand up, tipping the strap of your night gown down your shoulder. Illumi watches as the black fabric slinks down your body, hugging your every curve as it slides down until it falls off your hips and hits the floor without a sound. Your left clothed only in your simple black bra and matching panties. Illumi feels his dick swelling with exitement in his pants as he reaches out, hands shaking to grip your waist delicately. He feels as if you might break if he grips to hard, or you might leave if he holds you too soft. You smile at him.

“I thought you’d never agree.” You say, a vision before him. Illumi feels the urge to comfort you. Gingerly, stifly, he pulls you into a hug. Your body is so much warmer than his, your temperature leaking off your skin and sinking into his own. He can smell your scent to clearly he almosts tastes it.

“Ill do whatever you want.” Illumi says truthfully, and before the embarrassment sinks in, he pulls back enough to press a kiss to your lips.

Illumi has only ever kissed one girl. Ounce. On a dare from Hisoka. When he was thirteen. So its safe to say he doesnt have the most experience. He can tell you dont either, but that fine. You’ll figure it out together. The first press of lips is simple, just your lips colliding softly. And then the little knowledge Illumi had read begins to kick in and he moves his lips against yours. You smile against him, hands gripping his muscled shoulders as he winds his own arms around your bare waist. Your skin is so hot, hot like your breath as it collides hits his lips when the two of you pull back.

You step backwards drawing him forward until your bug hits the bed and the two of you tumble onto it with a thud. You giggle a little, and move back in for another kiss. He can feel his body reacting to your touch, to your kiss, and as you girp his bare shoulders, he bites back a groan. He wants you so bad, he practically achs for it.

You pull away from his lips, reaching around your back to undo the strange clasp that holds your braw together. Illumi watches in awe as you tosse it to the side, followed by your underwhere.

“Look Illumi,” You say, grabbing his hand and tracing it down. Down your chest, through the valley of your boobs. Down your abdomen and navel and through the hair below to find something. Illumi watches in fascination as you press his fingers into a wet heat. “I want you so bad.”

Your back arches off the bed, body curving with what seams like pleasure as a small sigh escapes from your lips. Illumi feels himself twitch.

“Can i put it in?” He says, somehow sounding even more emotionless than usual. You nod, letting go of his wrist to bring your own hands to his crotch, pawing at the bulge in his pants. Illumi fights down another groan, shedding his pants and quickly as possible. Your lying on your back when he gets back, your legs propped up, and grinning. Illumi carefully grips himself, and concentrates on finding the prize you had shown him before. The wet heat is easy to find again, and Illumi carefully lines himself up before pressing himself inside.

Your mouth opens in a moan of his name, and Illumi almost lets go as he feels what must be heaven for the first time. He goes as slowly as possible, as your hands scrabble, gripping his wrists, the sheets beneath you, the nipple of your boobs until hes fully sinside of you, body between your spread legs, hands digging into the comforter on either side of you.

Strands of hair are caught in the sweat of his back, while others tumble down to brush your boobs. Illumi lets out a small groan.

“Move,” You say. You must see his look of confusion, because you grin up through eyes hazy with arousal. “Grab my waist and thrust in and out.”

Illumi obeys, watching as your back arches, and your eys close in what must be pleasure. Its addictive to watch you, his eyes darting back and forth between your face and the places where your bodies connect. The world around him is hazy, your the focus. You always have been. The pleasure in his body is building. He feels like a chord is wrapping nots in his gut, and its going to snap. As if to match him, you grip his wrists.

“Almost there baby.” You moan. Illumi’s hips stutter as you continue. “Kiss me.”

Illumi feels himself close to loosing control, and with the last bit of his sanity, bends down to kiss your lips—

He wakes up tangled in his sheets, with the words ‘I love you’ on his lips and a wet spot staining his pants.

After a cold shower and a long thought, Illumi decides that maybe its time to woo his wife. He sets off down the hall with his usual blank expression, but fi you looked close, there was a small bounce in his step.

.......

Endnotes: yaya first day done! btw i think the fanfic writer curse got me too, a bunch of person stuff was happening and i was already upset and i was preparing for kinktober...

and then BAM!!!

my grandma died!!!

btw if stuff is a little late thats why, cause im also sewing the dress im gonna wear, because she used to sew(im actually using her old machine)

anway, enjoy your smut dosage!!

#helplesslypurple77kinktober #hunter x hunter #illumi zoldyck #i also need sleep #illumi x reader #hxh illumi #mariannacrxss

187 notes · View notes

svsssfanonarchive · 9 months ago

Text

Examining SVSSS Canon: 2/∞

THE PRE-CANON TIMELINE

This post will attempt to provide an answer to several questions, including the ages of some of the current peak lords, as well as a rough timeline of events in the extras relative to the current day. A simple, bullet-point timeline will be at the end of this post, with relevant quotes and analysis above.

The timeline of SVSSS isn't particularly easy to piece together, and many fans are unsure of things such as the ages of certain characters, or how long the current generation of peak lords has been in power. As a matter of fact, it seems like even Airplane himself doesn't have a set timeline in mind for the events of PIDW pre-LBH:

“Your ages?” To tell the truth, Shen Qingqiu didn’t really know the precise age of this body. He raised his head at Shang Qinghua. “Wouldn’t you know better than I do?” Shang Qinghua twirled the brush in his hand. He’d never thought about this question either, so he figured he might as well just say whatever. Therefore he randomly wrote a number down in a couple of strokes. (7 Seas, Ch. 31)

It would be easy enough to take this quote and call the timeline a mystery-- however, there are a surprising amount of clues in the text, enough to at least put together a decent idea of when things happened and how old certain characters are, depending on which theories and interpretations one ascribes to.

There are two particular facts which are our most important hints as to the pre-LBH timeline, upon which this entire analysis hinges.

First, we have the spacing of the Immortal Alliance Conferences:

After much difficulty, Luo Binghe managed to turn seventeen, at which point he finally participated in the event the cultivation world held once every four years: the Immortal Alliance Conference. (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

And next, we have the length of time since Shen Qingqiu began to cultivate:

Before, Shen Qingqiu had thought that this body’s qualifications were already incredible, to have formed a core in only ten or so years when he’d begun cultivation so late. (7 Seas, Ch. 19)

Notably here, what is translated as "ten or so years" is 十几年， which is more accurately "ten and a few years." This means that at the time Shen Qingqiu formed a golden core, he had been at Cang Qiong Mountain for around 10-15 years, but likely no longer or shorter than that.

This tells us quite a bit already-- because we know that Shen Qingqiu only reached core formation after becoming peak lord, as well as after Luo Binghe had already become a disciple:

Luo Binghe was using the incorrect cultivation manual that Shen Qingqiu had handed him; he should have long since died bleeding from the seven apertures, his body rupturing down to his bones, skin, meridians, tendons, and flesh... Shen Qingqiu was filled with paranoia; he forever felt like everyone was secretly talking behind his back, discussing how he’d been unable to attain Core Formation even after this long. (7 Seas, Ch. 24)

So this tells us that it could not have been any longer than around 15 years between Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe joining Cang Qiong Mountain, and was likely at least a few years less than that because it has already been awhile since Luo Binghe was given the fake manual, which likely occured shortly after he arrived, and Shen Qingqiu reaches core formation at some point after this scene.

This means that the Qing generation's ascenscion likely occured no more than ten years after Shen Qingqiu joined the sect-- putting the ages for Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan respectively at roughly twenty-six and twenty-nine when they became peak lords.

The timeline can be clarified further and expanded, however, due to the spacing of the IAC. We know that the IAC occured when Luo Binghe was seventeen, and that it occurs every four years-- meaning that there would have been IAC taking place also when he was thirteen, nine, five, one, and three years before he was born.

However, we also know that it had not actually been fourteen years since Luo Binghe's birth at the start of SVSSS.

In the translation, Luo Binghe says the following when Shen Qingqiu asks his age:

“This disciple is fourteen,” Luo Binghe obediently replied. (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

However, the original says:

洛冰河乖巧地道：“弟子虚岁十四。”

"虚岁" here would be better translated as "nominal age." In ancient times, a child was one year old on the day of their birth, and aged up by one year with each new year-- so if a child was born the day before the new year, then at two days old he would already be counted as two years old. Sometimes, this would be counted on the spring festival new year, but other times it would be counted on the winter solstice.

As for Luo Binghe's precise chronological age, that is up for some determination. We know roughly the time of year he was born:

Immediately after birth, Luo Binghe was abandoned by his parents, swaddled in white cloth, and put in a wooden basin that was lowered into the Luo River. This occurred on the coldest days of the year... (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

The "coldest days of the year" here is 数九寒天, which refers to the nine periods of nine days each following the winter solstice. The winter solstice typically occurs on December 20-21, meaning that Luo Binghe's birth date is somewhere between December 20-March 12. If nominal age is being counted by winter solstice in this world, then that makes him chronologically thirteen at the start of SVSSS, but if it is calculated by the spring festival, then he is chronologically either twelve or thirteen at the start of SVSSS, as the Chinese new year can fall anywhere between January 21 - February 21, meaning that LBH could have been born either before or after this time.

So, let's just say that LBH's chronological age, for the purposes here, is thirteen, and then adjust our IAC timeline as follows：

There was one when he was chronologically sixteen, twelve, eight, four, the year he was born, and four years before he was born.

Now, how does this help us determine a timeline?

Well, we have the following statement:

Yue Qingyuan’s knuckles slowly brushed along Xuan Su’s hilt. “I was able to meet Senior Su Xiyan once at an Immortal Alliance Conference, many years ago." (7 Seas, Ch. 18)

Because we know that Su Xiyan died when Luo Binghe was born, we know that this meeting could not have occured at any conferences after his birth. It also would be unlikely that they met the same year Luo Binghe was born, as Su Xiyan would likely already be dead at that point if LBH was born after the new year. So, the latest that Yue Qingyuan could have met Su Xiyan would be twenty years before Luo Binghe was thrown into the Abyss.

We now combine this with the earlier discussion of the ages of Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan, and here I will note the following:

Yue Qingyuan slowly said, “At age fifteen, I entered Qiong Ding Peak." (7 Seas, Ch. 21)

This puts Yue Qingyuan roughly three years older than Shen Jiu:

“When [Shen Jiu] was twelve years old, he was but a slave my family had purchased from traveling child traffickers. " (7 Seas, Ch. 6)

Shen Jiu joined Cang Qiong Mountain at sixteen:

Liu Qingge didn’t even grace him with a sideways glance. “But certainly more success than a nobody who only began proper cultivation at age sixteen.” (7 Seas, Ch. 19)

This happened most likely directly after reuniting with Yue Qingyuan at an Immortal Alliance Conference. This puts Yue Qingyuan's age at nineteen during that conference, at which point he is head disciple, and has already gained some fame. However, this reunion has to occur before Luo Binghe's birth, Su Xiyan's death, and Tianlang-jun's defeat. This is because at this point, Yue Qingyuan has only been in Cang Qiong Mountain for four years-- thus, this particular conference is almost certainly the first one he has taken part in, and likely the first one he has attended at all, since a brand-new disciple in early stages of training most likely wouldn't have gone, therefore if Tianlang-jun had already been sealed by this point, Yue Qingyuan would not have had the chance to meet Su Xiyan.

So, the latest Shen Qingqiu could have joined Cang Qiong Mountain, at age 16, is twenty years before the Abyss, which would put him at age thirty-six at the youngest at that time.

Now, what about additional conference cycles?

It's possible that the conference in which Yue Qingyuan met Su Xiyan and/or after which Shen Qingqiu joined CQM may have been the one before this-- but that would also add four additional years to the time SQQ had been cultivating.

The earliest that Luo Binghe could have joined CQM would be when he was a little over ten years old, as that is when his mother dies:

On the bed lay a haggard old woman. With great effort, she tried to prop herself up, but from beginning to end, she was unable to do so. A small figure rushed in from outside. A tender-faced Luo Binghe, only a little over ten years old, supported the woman. Around his neck hung that jade pendant. (7 Seas, Ch. 3)

Shen Qingqiu had not reached core formation when Luo Binghe joined the sect. This means that if the IAC where SQQ joined the sect was four years before Luo Binghe's birth, then by the time Luo Binghe joins the sect it has been about fourteen to fifteen years since SQQ began cultivating.

Adding an additional four years would bump that to eighteen to nineteen years, which exceeds the "ten and some" years that SQQ took to reach core formation.

In my opinion, this also tells me that LBH joined CQM when he was absolutely no older than ten or eleven, and likely went to join immediately after his mother's death, because pushing LBH's join date later would also stretch the timeline of SQQ's cultivation. Now, this part does not specify whether the ten years old is nominal age or chronological age-- but because LBH's age of seventeen at the conference is referenced to his nominal age of fourteen, with a distance between of three years, then I am considering all age-numbers to be nominal age rather than chronological. This only really matters in regards to Luo Binghe for this analysis, though, as his birth year is the only one which has bearing on the timeline in regards to Su Xiyan's status.

With all of this information, we can determine with good confidence that the conference in which Yue Qingyuan met Su Xiyan was the same conference during which he reunited with Shen Qingqiu, which occured four years before Luo Binghe was born and twenty years before the Endless Abyss.

So because of this, we actually do have a relatively precise timeline of characters' ages, as well as events in the cultivation world.

This short timeline is also supported by the fact that Ming Fan is the most senior of Shen Qingqiu's disciples, and he is only sixteen, about 2-3 years older than Luo Binghe:

A youth around sixteen years old, tall and thin, promptly ran in through the door. “This disciple is here. What instructions does Shifu have?” (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

Had the Qing generation ascended too many years prior to Luo Binghe's joining the sect, it would be strange that the most senior disciple of Shen Qingqiu's was only sixteen, as in xianxia a disciple typically will not "graduate" at a certain age or cultivation stage, meaning that older disciples will maintain their role well into adulthood.

As for the rest of the peak lords, we have little to no information regarding the ages of Wei Qingwei, Qi Qingqi, or Mu Qingfang. However, we do know that Liu Qingge is quite young, and joined the sect both at an optimal age and a significant length of time before Shen Qingqiu:

At this point, Liu Qingge’s formal ascension to Bai Zhan Peak Lord, too, had likely only happened a couple years ago. There was a visible air of immaturity about his features, his gaze fierce and sharp, and within his every action was a young man’s spirited vigor. (7 Seas, Ch. 19)

and

Therefore, even though he’d entered the sect quite some time after Liu Qingge, because Qing Jing Peak was ranked second—only below Qiong Ding Peak—while Bai Zhan Peak was ranked seventh, Liu Qingge still had to address Shen Qingqiu as “Shixiong,” if through gritted teeth. (7 Seas, Ch. 24)

So, Liu Qingge is likely a year or two younger than Shen Qingqiu, but not by too much, since they still behave very much like contemporaries as teenagers-- let's say that Liu Qingge is likely around 14-15 when Shen Qingqiu joins the sect at age 16.

The other peak lord we know a bit about the age of is Shang Qinghua:

The older-than-average outer disciple Shang Qinghua, who currently occupied a seventeen-year-old body, looked around in all directions as he trailed behind the main team, who were unloading goods from the ship onto the docks. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

He is seventeen here, and an outer disciple of An Ding Peak. We can place this a bit more definitively on the timeline by the fact that Shen Qingqiu is already a head disciple at this point in time:

“What I don’t know is how Shen Qingqiu got chosen as head disciple after starting cultivation so late,” said another outer disciple who’d joined Cang Qiong Mountain at an older age, his expression sour. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

Unfortunately, we cannot place the exact point in time where Shen Qingqiu became head disciple-- one possibility is that it couldn't have happened until after Tianlang-jun's defeat, which occured about four years after he joined the sect, since he did not participate in the battle. But that is a weak argument, since none of the current generation besides Yue Qingyuan participated in that battle:

Of the current peak lords, only Yue Qingyuan had participated in that battle, as the head disciple of Qiong Ding Peak. (7 Seas, Ch. 17)

If using this argument, then that would mean that aside from Yue Qingyuan, none of the other peak lords had been chosen as head disciples at that time-- while that is a possibility, I think that a more feasible explanation would be that Yue Qingyuan was an exception, and participated in the battle specifically because of his wielding Xuan Su.

One thing we can extrapolate, however, is that Shang Qinghua was most likely an inner disciple for at least three years before the Qing generation's ascension. This is because of the following:

One day, Shang Qinghua’s concise Great System delivered a new command: Become the An Ding Peak head disciple within three years. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

Now, it is somewhat loose evidence, as there is nothing to say that "three years" means for certain that the ascension would occur three years from that point, but it does mean that it occured no earlier than that. By now, Shang Qinghua has already been an inner disciple for some time, long enough to have been assisted by Mobei-jun a few times and to have gone on several missions-- most likely around a few months to a year or so at minimum.

Of course, how long has passed between Shen Qingqiu joining the sect and this point? Well, since Shen Qingqiu is still described as a youth:

Shang Qinghua suddenly heard the tinkling of sword tassel pendants, and a youth wearing Qing Jing Peak’s uniform slowly approached him. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

Because of this description, I would say that Shen Qingqiu is most likely between seventeen and his early twenties, since it isn't particularly likely that he would become head disciple in less than a year after joining the sect. Of course, within this age range, there is one important event that occurs-- the battle of Bai Lu mountain, which would have occured when Shen Qingqiu was twenty and Yue Qingyuan was twenty-three.

Now, this gets into more of a speculation than anything else-- just before this point, Mobei-jun attacked Huan Hua Palace and the An Ding Peak disciples. If the battle of Bai Lu Mountain had already occured, it would have happened no more than a few years earlier. We also know that there is a tentative truce between the demon realm and the cultivation world:

This suggestion was solid. For many years, the Human and Demon Realms had maintained an uneasy balance and had yet to drop the pretense of peace. Eliminating Sha Hualing and her mob wouldn’t be impossible, but it would likely light a fuse. The demons definitely wouldn’t let her death go unanswered, and it wouldn’t be worth it if they stirred up an even greater conflict. (7 Seas, Ch. 3)

I suspect that this pretense of peace was likely set in place after the battle of Bai Lu Mountain, when the demon realm had just lost their ruler.

Since just a short time had happened since the demons' defeat and a likely truce between the realms, I find it unlikely that Mobei-jun, a prominent member of demonic nobility, at this time would be actively antagonizing the cultivation world by attacking Huan Hua Palace and Cang Qiong Mountain. Now, of course, there is a potential alternate storyline that this is exactly what happened, and Mobei-jun went rogue as an act of lashing out, and that interpretation would be perfectly valid on its own.

Personally, though, I believe that Shang Qinghua's meeting with Mobei-jun occured before the battle of Bai Lu Mountain, while the cultivation world and demon world were in the tense state on the edge of war. This means that Shang Qinghua most likely became an inner disciple when Shen Qingqiu was around 17-19 years old.

With this information, we can determine some relative ages:

Yue Qingyuan is three years older than Shen Qingqiu, who is a little older than Liu Qingge. Because Shang Qinghua was seventeen when Shen Qingqiu was already head disciple, it is most likely that he is around Liu Qingge's age, give or take a few years, as it is not particularly likely (though potentially possible) for Shen Qingqiu to have gone from new disciple to head disciple in the space of a single year.

Aside from these four, there are no other ages that can be determined for the peak lords.

With all of this information, a fairly decent timeline can be created. Characters' ages will be listed with each notable year.

《 THE TIMELINE 》

*counted up to the start of SVSSS. If using this timeline, keep in mind that the earliest and latest notes for date ranges can overlap-- do not accidentally have a disciple join the sect before the current peak lords ascend, or have SQH become head disciple after ascension! Dates with ranges are colored green (earliest) and red (latest).

Earlier than -21 YR

LQG: <;10-11

(earliest) Liu Qingge joins Cang Qiong Mountain

-21 YR

LQG: 10-11, SQQ: 12, YQY: 15, QHT: <16, QJL: 16

Shen Jiu sold to Qiu Jianluo

Yue Qi joins Cang Qiong Mountain

--IAC--

-19 YR

LQG: 12-13, SQQ: 14, YQY: 17

(earliest*) Yue Qingyuan enters the Lingxi Caves with Xuan Su

-18 YR

LQG: 13-14, SQQ: 15, YQY: 18, QHT: <19, QJL: 19

(latest*) Yue Qingyuan enters the Lingxi Caves with Xuan Su

Shen Jiu kills Qiu Jianluo and burns down Qiu Manor

Shen Jiu becomes Wu Yanzi's disciple

(earliest*) Yue Qi leaves the Lingxi Caves

(earliest*) Yue Qi becomes head disciple

(latest) Liu Qingge joins Cang Qiong Mountain

-17 YR

LQG: 14-15, SQQ: 16, YQY: 19

(latest*) Yue Qi leaves the Lingxi Caves

(latest*) Yue Qi becomes head disciple

--IAC--

Yue Qingyuan meets Su Xiyan

Shen Jiu kills Wu Yanzi and joins Cang Qiong Mountain

-16 YR

LQG: 15-16, SQH: 15-17, SQQ: 17, YQY: 20

(earliest) Shen Qingqiu becomes Head Disciple

(earliest) Shang Qinghua meets Mobei-jun and becomes inner disciple at age 17

(earliest) Shang Qinghua receives the directive to become head disciple within three years

(earliest) Shang Qinghua becomes head disciple

-14 YR

MF: 2, LQG: 17-18, SQH: 17-19, SQQ: 19, YQY: 22

(latest) Shen Qingqiu becomes Head Disciple

(latest) Shang Qinghua meets Mobei-jun and becomes inner disciple at age 17

(earliest**) Su Xiyan imprisoned and subjected to torture in Water Prison

(earliest**) Battle of Bai Lu Mountain

(earliest**) Tianlang-jun Sealed

-13 YR

NYY: <1, LBH: 1, MF: 3, LQG: 18-19, SQH: 18-20, SQQ: 20, YQY: 23

(latest**) Su Xiyan imprisoned and subjected to torture in Water Prison

(latest**) Battle of Bai Lu Mountain

(latest**) Tianlang-jun Sealed

Luo Binghe is Born

Su Xiyan Dies

(earliest) Qing Generation ascend to become Peak Lords

--IAC--

-11 YR

NYY: 2-3, LBH: 3, MF: 5, LQG: 20-21, SQH: 20-22, SQQ: 22, YQY: 25

(earliest***) Ming Fan joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

-9 YR

NYY: 4-5, LBH: 5, MF: 7, LQG: 22-23, SQH: 22-24, SQQ: 24, YQY: 27

--IAC--

-8 YR

NYY: 5-6, LBH: 6, MF: 8, LQG: 23-24, SQH: 23-25, SQQ: 25, YQY: 28

(latest) Shang Qinghua receives the directive to become head disciple within three years

(earliest***) Ning Yingying joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

-5 YR

NYY: 8-9, LBH: 9, MF: 11, LQG: 27-28, SQH: 27-29, SQQ: 29, YQY: 32

--IAC--

(latest) Shang Qinghua becomes head disciple

(latest) Qing Generation ascend to become Peak Lords

(latest) Ming Fan joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

-4 YR

NYY: 9-10, LBH: 10, MF: 12, LQG: 28-29, SQH: 28-30, SQQ: 30, YQY: 33

Luo Binghe's adoptive mother dies

(earliest) Luo Binghe joins Qing Jing Peak

(earliest) Shen Qingqiu reaches Core Formation

-3 YR

NYY: 10-11, LBH: 11, MF: 13, LQG: 29-30, SQH: 29-31, SQQ: 31, YQY: 34

(latest****) Ning Yingying joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

(latest) Luo Binghe joins Qing Jing Peak

-2 YR

NYY: 11-12, LBH: 12, MF: 14, LQG: 30-31, SQH: 30-32, SQQ: 32, YQY: 35

(latest*****) Shen Qingqiu reaches Core Formation

-1 YR

NYY: 12-13, LBH: 13, MF: 15

--IAC--

Year 0

NYY: 13-14, LBH: 14, MF: 16

SVSSS Begins

-----

This timeline operates under the following conditions. For some of these conditions, alternatives are discussed in the post above-- if you wish to use any of the alternative calculations, then you're more than welcome to adjust the timeline as applicable for your own use!

"Years" are counted from the first day of the spring festival/Chinese new year, rather than January 1

All character ages are nominal ages, so they were born in the year they are counted as age "1"

Luo Binghe was born after the new year, and so his nominal age is only about one year higher than chronological.

Shang Qinghua met Mobei-jun before the battle of Bai Lu Mountain

The system's time limit for SQH does reference the time of the Qing generation's ascension

The Immortal Alliance Conference takes place roughly in the middle of the year. Based on the fact that it is warm enough for the disciples to dip their feet into a stream and find that pleasant, it would make sense for the IAC to occur in a warmer season (Ch. 4)

Further References and Footnotes:

*Yue Qi was in the Lingxi Caves for more than one year and Qiu Manor had already been destroyed by the time he got out (Ch. 21)

**The birth of Luo Binghe occured a few days after the battle of Bai Lu Mountain. Depending on when LBH was born, it could be at the end of year -13 or the first few days of year -12 (Ch. 21)

***We do not know the earliest a child can join Cang Qiong Mountain, even though the appropriate age for cultivation most likely cuts off somewhere around 15 (due to YQY joining at that age and no comments about him being "too old"). For the purposes of this timeline, I am setting the absolute youngest to age 5, but more realistically a disciple wouldn't join until age 8-10 at the earliest.

****It is unknown whether the only time that disciples can join Cang Qiong Mountain is during the recruitment trials. Therefore, there remains a possibility for Ning Yingying to have joined the sect in the same year as Luo Binghe, but at some point before the recruitment trials due to connections. This can potentially be supported by Shen Jiu joining after the IAC, but at the same time, it is not confirmed that SJ joined CQM immediately, or if he had to wait until the next recruitment trial, so there is no clear canon precedent-- nonetheless, it is still possible. Note that Ning Yingying can only join at this late point if Luo Binghe joins at age 11, and after her. The only hard requirement is that NYY joined at some point before LBH.

*****I have placed this as the absolute latest time SQQ could have formed a golden core because this puts him at having been cultivating for sixteen years. It is a bit of a stretch already , but I don't think that "ten and a few" years could really be any longer than this. It is also worth noting that by the time SQQ reaches core formation, every other peak lord has already done so, with Yue Qingyuan first, Liu Qingge and Qi Qingqi next, and Shang Qinghua most likely last (Ch. 24)

Please let me know if you notice any errors in calculation, formatting, or missing details! This was quite substantial so there's a good chance I may have missed something.

Some of the points in this analysis and timeline calculations were brainstormed with the help of @zykamiliah , @cum-villain , @furbygoblinxiv . Many thanks!

#svsss #canon examined #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #yue qingyuan #liu qingge #shang qinghua #svsss timeline #resource

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flowerandblood · 9 months ago

Text

Object of Despair (2/3)

[ dark • Aemond x Arryn • widow female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, oral sex, fingering, hate sex, smut, angst, domination, violence, swearing, humiliation, hard chauvinism ]

[ description: Aemond is forced to marry a widow from House Arryn as part of the alliance and support of his brother in the war against the Black faction. After their wedding night, which went completely differently than he imagined, Aemond tries to return to his daily routine. The female character has a specific eye and hair color. Lots of hate sex, violence and chauvinism. ]

Part 1 − Object of Desire Part 3 − Object of Delight Epilogue

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Their wedding night was so different from what he had imagined that he was at once horrified, ashamed and intrigued by the person who had been living in the chamber next to his for several days. She wasn't seeking his company or attention, appearing only at suppers spent together with his family.

He knew he could have summoned her to his chamber at any time, and it would have been her duty to come and give him what he wanted, but every time he meant to do so he changed his mind and resigned, frustrated, staring into the light of the fire burning in the fireplace, sitting in front of it on his ornate wooden chair, thinking about that evening.

After what had happened between them it seemed to him that they had both suddenly come down to earth, not knowing what to make of how aggressive and full of rage the rapprochement had been.

He let her go and watched her, breathing unevenly, tying back his breeches, as she immediately covered her buttocks back up with her nightgown − he could see that her whole body was shaking, her lips trembling, her eyes big, her cheeks puffy from the tears that ran down her face.

She calmed down a little after his words and reassurances, but she was still terrified.

She asked him in a breaking, weak, quiet voice if she could now return to her chamber, and although he had originally had no intention of letting her lay in his bed, he felt disappointment at the thought that she had not begged him to let her stay.

Not wanting to show weakness or allow her to think that her presence was something he craved, he allowed her to do so with a nod, and she left without a word, neither bowing to him nor wishing him a good night, quietly opening and closing the door of his chamber behind her.

The next day, during the duel with Criston Cole, he could not concentrate − whenever he caught sight of a shade of blue out of the corner of his eye he involuntarily looked in that direction, thinking it was her in her gown that he remembered so fondly, his heart pounding hard with shame.

He pressed his lips together, turning his head away, snorting, playing with the hilt of his sword in his hand with apparent impatience, seeing some other woman − Cole watched him vigilantly, but not dared to ask either about her or his impressions of her.

Her presence was a taboo for him.

That same day, he walked and spent long hours in the great royal library, despite the fact that he usually instructed his servants to bring thick, old volumes filled with the history of his family and all Essos to his chamber. He hoped to meet her there, to confront her again, this time clearly showing her where she belonged.

To his disappointment, he did not see her until the evening − her blue gown immediately catched his attention, sewn from a soft, lovely fabric it fell heavily over her pleasant, girlish curves, accentuating her figure.

He swallowed hard as he looked at her face and noticed a large red bruise under her eye, which must have been the result of the moment he grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head on the table.

She was discussing something in a whisper with Helaena, his sister bent over her with concern, playing with her fingers in a nervous gesture they had all inherited from their mother.

They fell silent when they noticed him − her violet eyes looked up at him, sad, resigned and tired. He thought, feeling a burning embarrassment in his chest, that explaining to her who had the final word on what their marriage would look like was no longer necessary.

Sitting down at the table next to her he knew what awaited him − when his mother walked into the chamber and saw his wife she froze, the smile gone from her face.

She looked at him with pain, with disappointment he could not bear and he closed his eyes, thinking only of the fact that he wanted to sink to the ground.

"Dear sister-in-law, has my brother given you another gift besides, we all pray, his future heir in your womb?" Aegon asked with a sneer. He clenched his teeth, sucking in a deep breath, looking at his brother with grim fury, to which he only smirked, popping a grape into his mouth, biting through it with a loud crunch, amused.

He felt his wife shift beside him − his heart began to beat faster in panic at the thought that she was about to say something to humiliate him, to mock him in front of his entire family to take revenge on him.

"I slipped in the bath, my King." She replied simply, without emotion, regret or anger. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, surprised at the ease with which she lied despite it being obvious that everyone around her had guessed what had really happened.

His brother raised an eyebrow clearly impressed, cocking his head, leaning back in his chair with a loud creak of wood.

"You slipped." He repeated softly and she replied nothing, looking at him calmly.

She and Aegon exchanged glances for a moment − it seemed to him that she feared neither him nor his position.

"I hope no more such unpleasant…accident happens to you, my Lady. Such a pretty face." He hummed, reaching for his cup, but she merely blinked, no grimace passing across her face, as if his words did not bother her at all.

He himself didn't know what he thought of all this, so he decided to go back to his daily routine, pretending that she simply wasn't there, convincing himself that it would be better that way.

He didn't need her, he didn't want her, and her silence and distance were doing him a favour.

He watched her sometimes from afar, seeing her pleasant silhouette glide between the columns as he trained in the courtyard, always headed for the garden, the tree he had read about before she came to King's Landing, and at which he understood the Northerners prayed.

He did not think of it at first, but then he began to notice the gazes of the men and guards fixed on her as she passed them, their smiles, their dreamy gaze as if they were imagining what they would do with her body, the body of his wife, his right and his duty.

It planted a seed of doubt in him − he wondered if perhaps she was meeting her lover there, if he was a source of ridicule in the keep because the servants already knew that she had not been faithful to him, that she had betrayed her crippled husband.

This thought made him furious, but having no proof for his supposition he decided one day to change his plan for the afternoon and watch her through the window − as soon as he caught sight of her figure passing through the cloisters he left his chamber, moving unhurriedly after her.

As he walked between the tall shrubbery, hearing the grass rustling and the birds singing, he tried to focus on other sounds, expecting quiet moans and panting to reach his ears, but heard only his own footsteps traversing the path strewn with small rocks rattling under his feet.

He stopped as he stepped into a small clearing − a large, white weirwood with a disturbing, wrinkled, red face on its trunk looked at him ominously, his wife lying on her back on the grass beneath it, her eyes closed, her dark, loose hair surrounding her head, her hands laid on her stomach.

He stood motionless, wondering if she was waiting for someone, however, she did not open her eyes or look around.

He thought with surprise that she was asleep.

He swallowed loudly, for some reason feeling desire at the sight of her lying silhouette, the fact that someone could see and hear them, that she was his wife, and he could take her here and anywhere else he wished.

He felt how his cock swell in his breeches, his lips tightening into a thin line as the heat spilled in his lower abdomen.

She shuddered and opened her eyes when she heard him move towards her − she lifted herself up on her arm, her lips parted in disbelief, however for some reason she did not rise or try to escape.

He stood, towering over her, feeling his superiority and dominance over her in this position and this situation, his fingers slid down to his breeches, untying them in a calm, nimble manner.

"Come here, wife. I promised you something, didn't I?" He asked, feeling his heart pounding like mad, releasing his aching erection, its pink tip glistening from his precum.

It seemed to him that she was shocked by his insolence, by the fact that he wanted to profane her sacred place, after a moment, however, the expression on her face changed. He parted his lips noticing how she rose slowly, kneeling before him as if to pray, with a light flick of her hand sliding the material of his breeches lower, looking him straight in the eyes.

No fear, no terror, no regret.

He sighed and immediately grabbed her by the hair, wanting to be in control of what was happening when her hand grasped his throbbing, hard cock in her soft palm, squeezing it at the base. He drew in a loud breath as her lips brushed its tip without any hesitation, her pink, shiny tongue licking it encouragingly. He tilted his head back, delighted.

"− fuck − keep going −" He commanded, impatiently pressing her closer to his lower abdomen, watching her with excitement and curiosity, his manhood quivering with desire in her hand, her fingers giving it a calm, assured strokes. He groaned involuntarily when he saw how she slowly slid the fat head of his cock between her lips, the tip of her tongue teasing him lazily.

She sighed as the thrust of his hips slid it deeper into her mouth − he heard her almost choke when it hit the back of her throat, her palate wonderfully wet and warm, her lips clamped down on it, in some natural, subconscious reflex beginning to suck it.

"− that's it − there you go −" He gasped with awe at the perverted sight before him, his fingers entwined in her smooth, soft hair, clenching down on it, controlling himself, however, so as not to cause her too much pain, forcing her head not to escape when his hips with sure deep pushes invaded her throat.

"− did you often satisfy your late husband like this? − it's clear this isn't your first time − little slut −" He exhaled, groaning lowly listening to the loud clicks of her saliva each time his aching cock disappeared again and again deep into her mouth, her hand tightening on it more firmly, making him accelerate his pace.

"− stop − that's enough −" He muttered, having no intention of wasting his seed, wanting to finish inside her, trying to push her away, but he felt her tongue trailing down his length, her free hand clamped down on his buttock, not allowing him to escape − he had to lean against the tree trunk, his other hand holding her hair as his cock thrust into her greedily.

"− f-fuck, fuck, fuckkk −" He hissed out in rage combined with delight and groaned loudly in relief as he felt his semen spill over her palate. He looked down at her, her eyes closed, all around them only the rustle of the leaves, his shaky, loud breaths and the sound of her swallowing, so lewd it sent shivers down his spine.

Slowly she slid it out of her mouth, his cock all slick and glistening from her wetness − her soft, pink tongue licked it for a while longer, teasing and sucking lightly on its tip from which the remnants of his seed still flowed. He stroked her smooth hair, feeling his body still shudder with shivers of pleasure after such intense fulfilment.

"− you look perfect like this −" He gasped softly, his thumb running over her cheek, noticing with some kind of relief that there was hardly a trace left of the bruise from a few days ago.

"− you will spend this night in my chamber − you should try how it tastes sticky with your moisture − don't touch yourself −"

That evening he waited impatiently for her, strangely excited and anxious, pacing around his chamber, absorbed in his thoughts.

He feared that she would humiliate him, show him, by not coming to his summons, that she despised and disrespected him, and then force him to use violence against her again.

He did not want any more accusing glances from his mother directed towards him at the table.

He shuddered as the door to his chamber opened suddenly − he turned over his shoulder and swallowed hard, noticing her figure covered only by her night gown and the cashmere blue shawl thrown over her shoulders − her long dark hair were loose, the look of her violet eyes calm and full of some kind of curiosity.

"− have you touched yourself? −" He asked coolly as the door closed behind her with a loud clatter of wood, turning towards her, walking in her direction with his hands folded behind his back.

"− no −" She replied softly, without any pleasantries or further elaboration, looking straight into his face without a sign of fear or uncertainty.

He intended to regain control of the situation she had taken from him when she decided when he would come and how, all by herself.

Stupid cunt.

"− undress and lie on your stomach −" He commanded in a dispassionate, cool, deep tone, from which her gaze darkened a little, as if clouded, her plump lips parted slightly but no sound came out of them.

She walked past him without a word, heading barefoot towards his bed and climbed onto it, her back turned to him as she sat on his bedding, letting him watch as her fingers slid the fabric of the robe off her shoulders, letting it fall down, revealing her naked, smooth body.

His hands began to undo the clasps of his tunic as she lay on her stomach following his command, her face turned the other way so that he could not see her gaze − the sizzle of the fire in the fireplace all around them, and besides, a complete silence filled with a heavy, stifling tension, a threat of what was about to happen between them.

He felt what he saw in his cock, his manhood expressing painful impatience, throbbing in his breeches at the thought that he intended to come deep inside her that night more than once.

"− did you love that fool? −" He asked indifferently in a voice slightly hoarse with arousal, licking his lips with his tongue in satisfaction to see that her whole body tensed, her fingers clenched on the pillow lying under her head, her back rising in a shuddering breath.

She was silent for a long moment, as if his question had startled her − he watched her vigilantly, pulling his boots off his feet, staying only in his undershirt and breeches as she lay exposed, bare, vulnerable, condemned to him and him alone.

No matter what her answer would be.

She shuddered, as if snapped out of her reverie, as he sat up behind her, his large hand running over and stroking her full, soft buttocks.

"− speak −" He hissed, his hand slapping her bare skin so sharply and quickly that she bounced and squealed. He gave a reassuring stroke to the spot, red and throbbing in the indistinct shape of his hand − involuntarily his lips curved into a teasing smirk as he noticed the moisture glistening between her thighs, her folds pink, throbbing and swollen.

She liked this kind of games, he knew that.

"− I was the furnishings of his household − I loved him as much as his chair, his bed or his table could −" She muttered, and he looked at her, surprised, not knowing himself what he thought of her words. He stared at her face, her gaze fixed on his window, her lower lip trembling as if she was trying not to cry.

He hummed, intrigued, moving forward, placing his hands on either side of her head, his long hair tickling the bare skin of her back and shoulders, making her gasp loudly, her body quivering all over in anticipation and uncertainty, fear and curiosity at what he was about to do.

"− I am, I believe, in his debt − he taught my wife how to suck cock so well −" He whispered quietly with a hint of dark mockery and threat, her lips parted wide in a quiet moan as he slid one of his hands under her stomach, parting her legs with his knee, forcing her to spread them in front of him, his mouth ran over her neck as his fingers sank into her leaking, soft, hot womanhood.

"− but did he fuck you good? − hm? − did he know your weaknesses? − your most sensitive points? −" He murmured, her whole body breathless, her buttocks bucking up towards him and rubbing against his hard cock, moving to the rhythm of his fingers as their tips dug into her tender skin, trailing around her bud, teasing her once in a while, his hand all sticky with her juices.

"− fucking answer me − he fucked you with his fingers 'till you mewled his name? − 'till you begged for his seed? −" He growled, crushing her with the weight of his body, his other hand clamping down on her neck, careful not to overdo it though − she whimpered loudly, writhing beneath him as he quickened his pace, running his fingers over her puffy slit again and again, leaking from her fluids, his fingers invading her fleshy folds with a loud, lewd click, his aching manhood hitting her buttocks.

"− yes − he's gained experience with whores and servants before, just like you −" She hissed out, her breath caught in her throat as his fingers tightened harder around her neck, his two fingers forced their way inside her, stretching her tight, hot, wet walls with sure, deep pushes to which her hips responded greedily with rocking, meeting him halfway.

"− shameless whore − maybe I should care less about your pleasure, hm? − fuck you so that you cry out in pain −" He threatened, and she laughed, struggling to catch air, her lips parted wide, her eyelids clenched.

"− objects do not know fulfilment or disappointment − love or hate − do what you want with me −" She breathed out, her eyes opened, releasing a wave of tears that ran down her cheeks, seeing this he slid his fingers out from inside her and let go of her neck, quickly untying his breeches, for some reason furious at her words, his nostrils twitched dangerously in accelerated breath.

His thumbs spread her folds wide to the sides, allowing the fat head of his cock to force its way inside her with her loud moan of surprise, his one, brutal push was enough for him to thrust deep into her with a sigh of pleasure and satisfaction.

"− listen − that sounds like disappointment to you? − like hatred? −" He sneered, panting loudly, placing his hands on either side of her head again, his knees spreading her thighs wide so that he slid fully into her, bucking his hips, his thrusts violent, sure and deep, each time his thighs slapping against her buttocks with a loud click of her moisture.

"− fuckin' leaking − all thirsty for my cock −" He gasped, feeling her muscles squeeze him tightly in pleasure, his face sinking into her soft, fragrant hair, his hands in some subconscious, natural reflex found her breasts, caressing and kneading them between his fingers, teasing her nipples with his thumbs.

"− ah −" She cried out innocently, girlishly − he stifled a low groan hearing that sound, accelerating his pace, opening her slick cunt wide on his cock again and again with brutal, quick thrusts, his mouth sliding down to her neck, clamping down on her skin, sucking her so painfully hard that she hissed, grabbing him helplessly by the hair.

"− I promise you that when I'm done with you, you won't be able to sit up tomorrow − your stomach and womb full of my seed −" He growled out into her ear, his breath caught in his throat as her hands found his, clenching on his fingers, entwining them together, her hips responding to his thrusts so eagerly that he struggled to restrain himself from coming just yet.

"− don't stop − fill me, please, please, please −" She mewled so loudly and sweetly that he lost control completely; he could feel the sweat trickling down his back from the exertion, one of his hands slid down her stomach, giving her pearl a few encouraging strokes from which her whole body quivered.

"− good girl − say my name −" He muttered with his face pressed against her soft hair, no longer controlling his movements, his hips slamming into her involuntarily, aggressively and quickly, no longer sliding out of her, chasing his own fulfilment, her walls clenched against him greedily, sucking him inside, wet and hot.

"− Aemond, fuck me, fuck me, f-fuck −" She whimpered and that was the end of it, from her lips came sounds of pleasure and relief he had never heard before, sweet, girlish, innocent, vulnerable, he felt her moisture trickle down her thighs, soaking him all over, her core throbbing hard in fulfillment, giving him wonderfull squeeze.

He gasped loudly, letting go at last, coming so hard inside her that it went dark before his eyes, his fingers tightened on her body to make sure she wouldn't escape him, their bodies writhing in convulsions, overwhelmed by how intense the fulfilment was, slapping against each other.

"− oh gods −" He mumbled, stroking her smooth shoulders, breasts, hips, thighs with his large, rough hands − he felt as if the scent of her body, her hair and her moisture had completely overwhelmed him, filling his lungs and his head. He closed his eyes, panting loudly with her, only realising after a moment that the fingers of one of her hands were still entwined with his.

They lay like that for a moment, trying to calm themselves, his lips finding her cheek, neck and shoulder, placing hot, lazy, wet kisses on them. He heard her sigh softly, her words like honey to his ears.

"− I want to taste you now −"

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddessing @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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thisonehere · 4 months ago

Text

A Match Made In Hell

Cheating!Bi-Han x Reader

A/n: This was a lot more late than I wanted it to be but I'm glad I finally got it done. I love Bi-Han but this idea was just constantly in my head so I just had to write about it.

Edit: Part 2

Tags: MK 1, MK AU, cheating, drabble

C/w: Cheating, angst, mentions of sex, Y/n kinda snaps, sad ending

Today was the day, Bi-Han was finally coming home. You buzzed happily before your vanity, carefully analyzing every feature of your face. You admire the flowers that you delicately braided into your hair. They were from your garden, you planted them with the intention of wearing them the day Bi-Han finally returned to you.

Unbeknownst to Liu Kang, Bi-Han has been very active in building a place for the Lin Kuei in the new world. He has been leaving many times to create alliances, defeating enemies, collecting power for his clan to prosper. Bi-Han felt discontent with the role they had played for the longest, he once even said that they were basically Liu Kang's lap dogs.

The moment when he used his men as test dummies for those two farmers and an actor was the final straw for him. You remember how he was that night, he was in such a state of fury and devastation that you consoled him for hours. The next day he gathered up a small group of trusted Lin Kuei and went somewhere in secret. He then came back with allies and new resources. It's been like that ever since.

You hated it when he left, especially now, this is the longest he had been gone. You were alone many nights in your shared bed missing him, wondering if he was thinking about you like you were thinking about him, missing you like you missed him. Whenever he was gone, you would go to Kuai and Tomas for support. But no, He had taken them along as well, much to their protest.

You were so scared so many times, you feared that the last you would ever see him sad when he left, he dodged and planted a kiss on your forehead, promising to come back to you. It had been months since that day had passed, so many were you scared that you would receive news that something happened to him, that he had died. Out of respect to you, she had called you to her office to be the first to receive the news.

Thankfully that sooner ended when Sektor had announced that not only was Bi-Han alive, he had also successfully created a major alliance with a strange clan from the Netherrealm, the sisterhood of shadow led by someone known as Quan Chi. Bi-Han had sent her a letter describing it all, he specifically brought one of the members, a demoness known Sareena. He brought her up quite a few times, whenever he did he spoke adamantly about her, almost praising her, which was odd because that wasn't something Bi-Han ever really did.

But you didn't think about it much, you were so overjoyed to hear this, to know that your husband was safe and coming home. You bursted into tears of joy and relief right there, it was embarrassing but you couldn't care at that second. Ever since then you have been excitedly preparing for Bi-Han's I'd return. You acquired his favorite tea to serve him, you baked his favorite pastries to feed him, you pressed and ironed the dress you knew he loved. Now the day was here, you were practically shaking with excitement to see him again.

Once you were satisfied with how you looked, you leaned back into youu chair, rested your eyes, and fantasized about the moment Bi-Han would walk through the door. The way he takes you into his arms and kiss passionately, then you'd stay up all night so you could show him just how much you missed him. You could hardly wait.

You were soon snapped out of your daydreaming when you heard something outside, the deafening roar of thousands cheering. You knew that meant one thing: Bi-Han was finally here.

...

Thousands of Lin Kuei gathered around the main entrance to welcome Bi-Han. They roared deafening cheers as their Grandmasters led the procession of his group through the crowd. His heart swelled with pride and so many gathered to welcome him home. It was a welcome one too, this journey was the most periless one he has faced yet, but it was also the most rewarding. He acquired very powerful assets in this journey.

There’s one specifically that valued most of all.

He looked behind him to look for them, and he was met with the unhappy looks of disapproval painted his brothers face. Not much to Bi-Han’s surprise, his brothers have been against what he has been doing for the longest. They have fought and protested every step of the way. Venturing into the Netherrealm caused the worst one yet.

"This is Insanity!" He remembered Tomas protesting, they were standing before a portal to the Netherrealm. Kuai and Tomas were trying their hardest to convince not to do this. "No, this is necessary, for our clans future." Bi-Han said. He attempted to approach the ort but Kuai blocked his path. "Our future is with Liu Kang and serving Earthrealm. Not this, not joining hands with devils."

Bi-Han just stared at Kuai and shook his head disbelief, "Serve? The Lin Kuei aren't servants, we're warriors. Liu Kang squanders our potential, uses us to play his trivial games and puts us back on the shelf when he is done with us, forbidding us from growing, stifling our true potential. We must make a deal with demons to finally reach it...then so be it" It is so good for Bi-Han to finally say this, for so long he had kept his thoughts inside, but the past successes in obtaining allies emboldened him to speak freely.

Kuai stared at him in disbelief, he looked at his brother like he was a stranger. Bi-Han pushed past him and to the portal.

And now here they are, the mission was a success and now his warriors celebrated him. Bi-Han tried to look past his brothers for his special guest, but he did not see it, he turned forward to continue his walk with his men. He scanned the celebration about him. So many happy faces celebrating him, a slight smile spread across his face. But then notices some people in the crowd begin part as he passes, making way for someone so that they could though. Bi-Han's smile quickly fades who they were making way for...you.

You were standing in his favorite dress, your hair done just the way he likes with flowers in them. You smile at him, tears of joy begin to well up in your eyes. At that second, everything came back to Bi-Han, he remembered you, his marriage to you, how you adored him...how he betrayed you.

You looked so beautiful, it hurtled Bi-Han to look at you after all he has done while he was away.

So he didn't look at you, he avoided eye contact and sped up his pace. You were no doubt hurt by this, the image of your sad and confused face flashed in Bi-Han's head, causing him to go even faster. He drowned you out with sound the thousands cheering for him.

...

W-What was that?

As part of the celebration, a banquet was to be held in Bi-Han's honor this evening. They were all celebrating, drinking until they blacked out drunk and chattering until throats hurt, and you outside tried not to freak out. Bi-Han looked away from you like you were nothing, not his wife who has been by his side for years, but like just another one of his nameless Lin Kuei. You were pacing the floor, outside the entrance to the Banquet.

Were you just overreacting? Maybe, Bi-Han would never purposely ignore you or do anything to hurt you... r-right? You feel silly right now, every one is having a good time inside and you're here overthinking something that's not even that big of a deal. It just hurts though, you have spent so many nights alone, longing for him, missing him so much that it hurt, only for him to not even send you a loving smile then he comes home.

Maybe he's just tired, he did travel a long way after dealing with a long and stressful journey. That's right, he was tired you are just overreacting. That's what you are desperately trying to convince yourself, but deep down inside a feeling won't relent its protest. It's trying to tell you that something's wrong, deeper and deeper do you try to suppress. But it's still so loud.

Something's wrong... Something is very wrong.

"Y-Y/n?"

You hear a gentle voice behind you. Part of you wishes it was Bi-Han. But when you turn around you are met with Tomas's gentle smile. It's not Bi-Han, but you are happy to see his face nonetheless. "Welcome back, Tomi, I missed you" You warmly embrace Tomas, he returns your embrace with a similar joy. You and him were very close. Whenever Bi-Han was cold or too harsh to him, there you were with cookies and a loving smile. He was like a brother to you, seeing him makes you almost forget all about your worries. "Did you grow while you were away?" You jokingly ask, trying your best to mask the pain and worry. "Not at all...but I fear you might've shrunk." Tomas jokes back at you with a light chuckle. Seeing him brings you an ease that had evaded you for so long, you missed his smile, you missed his laugh, you missed... Bi-Han...

Suddenly all the pain and confusion washes over you again. "I noticed you weren't at the banquet, you were still out here, so I wanted to see if everything was alright." Tomas gave you a concerned yet knowing look, causing you fear that he somehow knew what you were going through. "I-I'm okay, I just-uh-had a few duties to attend to before I joined you." You lied, you forced a smile on your face. But you could just tell by the way Tomas looks at you that he knew that you weren't okay. Something flashes past his eyes, guilt. As if he knows something and hea feels sorry for keeping it this long. An uncomfortable silence passed between you two, it was like there was an elephant in the room that had yet to be addressed.

"So how was the trip." You finally say. "Well, I went to hell so.." you softly chuckled as you blush in embarrassment. "Right, sorry. How was hell? Wait, don't tell me, I don't want to know." Tomas paused as he thought for a second. "Imagine everything horrible you can think of, everything that scares you, your worst fears and insecurities...and multiply that by the highest number you can think of."

"Uh...okay, say no more. I'm happy that you're back."

Tomas smiles in agreement. Once again you notice a look on his face, like there's something he wanted to tell you but he didn't know how. "Y/n...there's something I need to tell you. Something that happened while we were away. It's about Bi-Han."

"There you two are." A drunk Kuai interrupted as he exited the banquet and ran up to hug you. He was warm like always, with a smile on his face as he greeted you. I smiled, it felt nice for them to be back. But you wanted to hear what Tomas was going to say. What happened with Bi-Han? Oh gods, did something happen to him? Did someone hurt him? But you don't have time to wonder as Kuai guides you inside. Tomas lowers his head in shame at not telling you.

...

The event was in full swing, Kuai guided you through the chaotic mass of Lin Kuei drinking conversing which created a meat deafening cacophony of crude jokes, gossiping, and cheering. After he got you past a drunk Sektor and Cyrax, you finally got to you table. The table with Bi-Han.

As grandmaster, his was the biggest of all of them, decked with precious ornaments and decoration made from the purest gold and decorated with diamonds. "Only the finest for our grandmaster." You all agreed when setting this all up. You remember how much care you put in placing every decoration and how you slaved away in the kitchen to make his favorite cake. Bi-Han often insisted that he hated cake, but he never hesitated in taking a slice whenever you baked it. You wanted this celebration to be special, you thought of him with every step of the way.

Now there he was, sitting at the center of the table, drinking the wine you chose just for hims . At the sight of him it felt like everything froze, you forgot Kuai was there, you forgot everyone in the room. You stared nervously at him as you approached. It's odd, after all these years the man still makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. "Husband." Bi-Han froze at the sound of your voice. He looks up to you, your heart nearly melts the sight of his dark eyes as he stares you down. You can't read if he is surprised to see you or it's dread

"Wife." He finally said, a hint of longing can be sensed in his voice as he rose to his feet. He gently places a hand in your cheek as he looks into your eyes. "I... I have missed you dearly." You fight as you feel the grandmaster's touch, it had been something you have been deprived of for so long. A few years begin to escape your eyes as your lips spread into a smile. "Bi-Han, I have missed you too. I missed you so much I-I" he shushes you and kisses your forehead. He then tales you into his arms and holds you. That's not something he usually does, especially in public, it was almost like he was feeling guilty of something. But you didn't care. Everything felt right right now, you forgot all about your ridiculous worries from earlier. Everything is fine now, everything is jus-

"Bi-Han?"

You hear an unfamiliar voice behind you. Bi-ha lets you go as quickly as this new voice immediately takes his attention. You turn to see who is speaking, and you are a strange woman with white streaks going down her black hair. She stares at Bi-Han that at you curiously. Her black eyes especially linger on you for some time, like she was trying to make sense of you. "Yes, Y/n, this is Sareena. Sareena, this is Y/n...my wife." You and Sareena's eyes meet for a second, you look her up and down and she looks you up and down. Neither of you know of what to make of the other.

Finally, you force a smile onto you face "Sareena...so you're the sareena that I've heard so much about." You say as you hug her, much to Bi-Han and her surprise. You take in her scent, it's something unearthly yet familiar... familiar as in you smelt it on Bi-Han as you hugged him. You release from your hug as you continue to smile, that small part of you started screaming louder and louder that something was wrong, and you began to listen to it more and more.

"It's so nice to meet the infamous Sareena, the devil that has captivated my husband so." you continue to smile, and Sareena smiles at you too. Bi-Han is quick to cut in between you two "Sareena has been a most valuable asset in my venture. She helped me travel through the Netherrealm and make my deal with Quan Chi. She has been by my side ever since." Bi-Han smiled at Sareena...He SMILED at Sareena! That's something he has hardly ever done. He has never smiled at you, in public at least. The more that you think of it actually, you don't ever really remember Bi-Han smiling that much at all. A ugly feeling arises inside of you, you can't describe it. It just feels so ugly hateful, but you continue to smile.

The night went, you didn't touch your plate, you didn't drink, all you could was sit there and stare blankly into the distance. Sometimes Kuai or Tomas would try to strike a conversation with you. You replied with short answers, quickly ending them. And Bi-Han? Your husband whom you thought you'd be smiling and laughing with all night? Oh, he was completely enthralled with his demon friend. He smiled at her, laughed with her,he seemed to be all over her. You sat there helplessly as you watched them, not sure exactly what to do. You just kept smiling.

...

Sareena arose from her chair, "I need to, um, relieve myself." She lied as she walked away. Before she left, she gave Bi-Han a certain look to follow her. Bi-Han waited a few moments. Finally, you seem to be distracted by Tomas so he arises from his seat and follows her.

He walked down the dark hallway until he saw her standing at the doorway, her arms crossed with a mischievous smirk on her face. "You know, for a demon, lying is not your strongest suite." Sareena grabs Bi-Han and pulls him into a room, and they begin to violently kiss. His hands tangled themselves in her hair as he pressed her against the wall.

While Bi-Han was in the Netherrealm, and Sareena met. He was in awe of her strength and her deadly beauty. He loved, he truly did, but he often saw you as...weak, too soft. Being with Sareena was something so different yet amazing at the same time. She shared his ambitions,was as vicious as him, murderous to the point that it was scary, but he loved it all. She was everything he ever dreamed of and more, how could he not desire her?

His brothers were furious over this newly found entanglement. "What about Y/n?" Kuai questioned. Bi-Han valued you as he always did, it was you who was always by his side no matter what. Your love for him was so pure and strong that he doubted anything would ever kill it. It would be a shame to damage that love by telling you, so he rationed that he would never let you find out.

But the moment Bi-Han laid eyes on again after being away from you for so long...guilt immediately began to eat at him. He remembered all those nights you were up consoling him, listening to his thoughts no matter how silly he thought they were. He remembered how you would take care of stitching his wounds, the loving yet concerned looks you would give him. You offered him comfort and solace that Sareena could never. He remembered how much you adored him, and he had betrayed you.

But Bi-Han tries to fight this guilt, he attempts to suppress it with every kiss he gives to Sareena. "Worried about your little bride?" Sareena says, somehow sending the guilt. Bi-Han just rolls his eyes as he begins to undo his shirt. "Never, She is the least of my worries. Right now...I need you" And with that, they begin to kiss more passionatly as they take each other's clothes off...not noticing you standing right there.

...

When you would read romance books, they always described heartbreak as being completely shattered, left in a state of screaming and tears. But you...you felt nothing inside. You felt cold and hollow, like you were dead. All you could do was stare at your husband and the demoness as they began to embrace, as he entered her. You often wondered what you'd do if you were ever in this situation. You always thought you would make a scene, scream as loud as possible and maybe throw something.

You stared at your husband and you just walked away. You descended the steps and entered your room and sat yourself down at your vanity. You took the flowers out of your hair as you stared blankly at your reflection. You looked down at your dress, no longer did you think it looked beautiful, in fact you thought it was the ugliest thing you ever saw. You take it off and throw it somewhere. Tears were falling down your face but you didn't even notice them you looked over at the bed, his side of it. So many nights you spent up worrying for him, praying for him...and he does this to you?

Finally, you begin to emote. You start to laugh. The tears don't stop falling but you don't stop laughing either. You laugh harder and harder and tears fall heavier and heavier as you stare blankly at you vanity.

...

When Bi-Han finished, he returned to the party, he expected to see you still there, laughing with Tomas and Kuai. He was hoping to see your sweet face after what he just did, perhaps it would make him feel better about what he did, or worse. But you weren't. You were gone and there was his brother's shooting him a disgusted look as if they knew what he had just done. Bi-Han ignores them and searches the area for you, but you were nowhere to be seen. He left the festivities to go search for you.

He went up the steps and entered your room and he found you sitting at you vanity, it's mirror shatter and if you threw something at it. But you didn't bother by this at all, you just gleamed at him with that sweet smile he knows you best for. "Husband" you smile as you rise up out of your seat and gracefully walk up to him. "You weren't at the banquet."

"And you came to check on me?"

He nods, he stares into your eyes and remembers just how much you mean to him. He reaches out and hugs you, much to your surprise. But you didn't resist him, you instead melted into his arms. "Did you enjoy the party?" You ask, sounding so sweet, so innocent. Bi-Han just responds with a nod and short "Mhmm" sound.

"Did you enjoy Sareena too?"

Your voice kept its sweet tone, you asked it like it was nothing that big. But Bi-Han froze at this, he releases you stared at you, a little bit of horror forms on his face. He looks into your eyes and notices that they're glazed just a little bit. "You're drunk." He says dismissive. You just stare back at him and shake your head slowly. It was at that second that Bi-Han noticed that you were holding something in your hands, bags, you were leaving.

You attempt to walk past him but he blocks your path. "What do you think you're doing?" The look he gives is a very stern one, but you've known him long enough to see fear in his eyes. "I'm leaving." You grip the bags tighter as you stare at the door, it hurts too much to look at him. "You will not." He says sternly like you were asking. "Why, you have Sareena now."

"I don't want Sareena...I want you."

"Yet you 'need' Sareena." You finally find the strength to look him in the eyes. Tears blurred your vision, you wanted so desperately to go out strong, yet you began to cry. "Why?" that is all you can bring yourself to say. "Why wasn't I good enough for you? What did I fail to do that a demon could? I-I love you, I'd kill for you, I'd die for you. Why wasn't I enough for you? You were enough for me... you're everything to me..." Your voice begins to crack, but you can't care anymore. You look into Bi-Han's eyes for answers, but he avoided your gaze.

He doesn't stop you from pushing past him and going out the door. A crowd had formed outside the Banquet hall, seems that the party had ended. You were a slobbering mess as you marched through the crowd, avoiding all their confused gazes. You saw Kuai and Tomas, they could tell what happened. They gave you a mournful yet understanding look as you passed. You saw Sareena, you both gave the other a cold glare as you passed.

You made your way to the nearest gate out of the Artika. You stared at the large structure, you hesitated slightly. You're leaving everything you built, everything you loved behind...you looked behind you and noticed that the crowd began to part as they made way for Bi-Han. He stared at you longing and you returned the look. Neither of you wanted this to end, neither of you wanted you to leave.

It was so painful to look at him, so you put it on the ground and you opened the large door and walked out into the cold night.

...

A/n: Well that was heavy. I'm gonna have to do a lot of fluffy stuff to make up for this lol.

Btw, should I like to do a part two where Y/n and Bi-Han get back together?

Edit: Part 2

#mk1 #mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #mk fanfic #mk x reader #mk x y/n #bi han #bi han x reader #bi han sub zero #sareena #drabble #sad ending

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hannahbarberra162 · 2 months ago

Text

The Crocodile's Gambit (Croc x Reader)

on Ao3

The Crocodile’s Gambit (1/2)

Croc x F!Reader

Fluff in this chapter, angst and fluff in the next.

WC: 3.3k

Summary: Crocodile needs a chess partner before he impales Buggy out of frustration. Again. He finds one in a most unlikely place. Set after the abolition of the Warlord system, right before Cross Guild is formed.

~~~

There were a few things that Crocodile missed about Nico Robin. The first being, she was incredibly competent. When Crocodile hired someone, he assumed they could do their job without being told how to do it. He didn’t want to have to micromanage anyone, especially grown adults. He loathed having to check in and make sure every step of a process was done correctly. He’d never had to do that with Robin, she was smart and capable. Anything he assigned her, she executed flawlessly.

But what he missed more than her competence was her chess playing ability. She was the only opponent within Baroque Works who had ever won against him. Her success rate was about 15%, which was significantly higher than anyone else Crocodile had played in years. Crocodile enjoyed winning chess matches but even more than that, he enjoyed losing them. He loved the challenge, the strategy, the simplicity, the complexity, everything about chess. And he especially loved it when he found someone who could best him.

Which made his stay with the complete idiot Buggy all the more intolerable. He and Mihawk were meeting with the Clown to determine whether a joint venture would be viable. After the absolution of the Warlord system, Crocodile had approached Mihawk for a business proposal. Crocodile had connections, money, and business acumen but didn’t like the spotlight. Mihawk had power and the reputation of the World’s Greatest Swordsman. Together, they could become unstoppable. Then, the question of the Clown arose. Buggy owed Crocodile a lot of money, Crocodile was ready to kill the Clown and be done with his foolishness completely. However, something the Clown had that neither of them did was a large loyal following. For whatever reason, the Clown’s crew were loyal to the death for their Captain. Any time the Clown docked his garish ship, he was greeted with fanfare and celebrations. There were waiting lists with hundreds of applicants, all waiting for a chance to be on Buggy’s crew. Crocodile didn’t understand why, but people were charmed by the Clown’s charisma.

Crocodile and Mihawk had been in negotiations with the Clown for a few days. It was slow going - each iteration of an alliance between the three of them had many stipulations and conditions that had to be discussed. Crocodile was fairly certain the venture would fail and he’d kill the Clown, but he kept his options open. After all, a dead Clown made no money at all.

Crocodile was in desperate need of a good chess opponent, he felt his stress rising by the minute. Unfortunately, he knew he wasn’t going to find someone within the Clown’s ridiculous crew of idiots and low-lifes. Mihawk was a decent chess opponent, but the swordsman was rarely in the mood to play. Business dealings with the Clown left both of them irritated, and Mihawk’s outlet wasn’t chess. Each of them had their own room and office on Buggy’s ship, and Crocodile had his chess set sitting out at all times in his office, just like at home. He tried reviewing games he’d played against other opponents and playing against himself, but none of it was as entertaining as playing against another person. One morning before his meetings began, he moved a white pawn to an opening position on the board. He left for the meeting and forgot about chess for a few hours as he dealt with the Clown’s buffoonery and Mihawk’s recalcitrance.

Returning to his office for an after lunch break, he was about to read the newspaper when he noticed someone had moved black, opposing his white pawn at e5. It had to be someone on the ship, but who? Mihawk had been with him in the meeting. Daz wasn’t a good player, he hadn’t played with Croc in years. No one from Buggy’s crew was smart enough, and Crocodile hadn’t brought anyone but Daz. Crocodile wasn’t concerned about someone infiltrating his office, but he was concerned about his growing boredom and irritation. If he didn’t find a good opponent soon, he’d probably kill the Clown before it was advisable. He decided to play the opening to the King’s Gambit, moving his pawn to f4, next to the first. Once it was time to leave for the next meeting, he knew whoever had moved the black pawn wouldn’t last more than 5 moves against him.

He was wrong. It was Crocodile who was now outclassed, outplayed, and outmaneuvered. Crocodile played delayed games against the mystery person as his meetings continued and hadn’t won a single match. Crocodile hadn’t lost this many games in decades, and he couldn’t have been happier. Crocodile returned back to his office after every meeting, eager to see his opponent’s next move. His opponent was ruthless, seeing through his plays, gambits, and traps with ease. He skewered Crocodile time and time again, to Crocodile’s delight. Every time he lost, Crocodile placed a gold coin under the black King, which was taken and the board reset the next time Crocodile returned. Crocodile wanted to know who he was playing with, but he was never able to catch the man in action, his office always empty when he returned.

Even though the negotiations were not going well, Crocodile was now having a wonderful time. He didn’t want the venture to end, he wanted to continue playing chess against his opponent. The Clown had noticed the uptick in Crocodile’s mood, asking for more ridiculous clauses in their contracts. It hadn’t helped the negotiations, but Crocodile hadn’t killed the Clown outright yet, which was saying something. Unfortunately, the time for reconciliation was coming to a close. Crocodile wanted to find out who the mystery opponent was and soon. He wanted to shake the hand of the man who had bested Crocodile so thoroughly and offer him a spot on his crew.

So Crocodile waited outside his office before his morning meeting. He wasn’t hiding, that would be childish. He was simply waiting in a concealed location to resolve an issue he was having. True, he could have waited in his office to see who the man was, but that would ruin the fun. And Crocodile hadn’t had fun in years. He would be late for the meeting, but it wasn’t going to be productive anyway, negotiations had stalled. The morning crew was coming in to clean his office - Buggy had a lot of useless staff (and a lot of overhead expenses) but Crocodile appreciated coming back to a clean office daily. He hadn’t really noticed them before, they were all part of the background for Crocodile. They were dressed like all of the other pirates who worked for the Clown - in ugly, lurid circus clothing. The various cleaners split off to their areas, with you entering his office to clean. You wiped down various surfaces, until you got to the board with Crocodile’s most recent move. You studied it for a brief moment, then picked up a black knight.

“What the fuck are you doing woman?” Crocodile recognized Daz’s voice. He must have been passing by, looking for Crocodile.

“Cleaning,” you replied, irritated by the interruption. You put the piece back down where it was previously, to Crocodile’s disappointment.

“Didn’t look like cleaning to me. Leave the Boss’s chess set alone unless you want trouble.” The maid was unconcerned by the threat, rolling her eyes at Daz’s words.

“Game’s over anyway, doesn’t matter,” you muttered. Crocodile’s interest was piqued, was this slip of a woman his opponent? He watched you flip off Daz behind his back as he walked away. You bustled around the office, cleaning once more. As he watched, thinking you may be his opponent, he appreciated your form. You were graceful in your movements and meticulous in your work, and he found you beautiful in an unconventional way. The more Crocodile watched you, the more he realized how attractive you were. The hideous circus clothes you wore didn’t help, you had a huge orange scarf wrapped around your neck. But he saw your immense potential if you wore something less…flashy. It didn’t take you long to finish cleaning, and before you left the room, you moved the black knight, putting Crocodile in checkmate. Crocodile ran his hand through his hair, smiling wickedly.

~~~

After his next meeting, Crocodile cleared his schedule for the rest of the day. He didn’t really care about anything the Clown had to say right now. He was far too interested in his little chess opponent to bother with anything else. He sat in a plush armchair, smoking a cigar, waiting for the time the cleaning crew came in. Around lunch time, you carried your cleaning supplies into the room. You immediately noticed Crocodile sitting in his chair and you started to back out of the room.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll come back -”

“You’ll sit down,” Crocodile intoned, blowing billowing smoke clouds into the room. He gestured to the board in front of him. “Do you know how to play chess?” he asked. He knew you did, he was just curious what you’d say. You were a confident, aggressive chess player, and he wanted to see if that crossed over into your regular personality.

“I do, but I have to -”

“You’re dismissed from your duties for now. Sit. I won’t ask again.” You were a little nervous, but set down your cleaning supplies and sat across from him on another comfortable armchair. You perched on the end of the chair, like you were getting ready to run at a moment’s notice, fiddling with your scarf. Crocodile switched the board, you were now white.

“Go ahead. Start,” he drawled at you, blowing smoke. Your eyes flicked from the board to Crocodile, wary of the situation. Things weren’t completely genial between Crocodile and your Captain, surely you felt the tension on the ship. But you played, moving your pawn to f4. Crocodile parried, moving his pawn to e5, countering your opening. You played your turn, and by the time 15 minutes were up, Crocodile was in checkmate again.

“Checkmate,” you said, leaning forward to stand up. Maybe you wanted to get back to work or maybe you wanted to get away from Crocodile, but neither was going to happen.

“You’re not dismissed,” Crocodile growled, steepling his hand against his hook, pleased with the match. “So, it’s you. You’re my opponent. You’re quite skilled at chess,” Crocodile observed.

“Yeah, it’s me. Do you want your coins back or something?” you replied. You were a little rough around the edges, Crocodile thought, but he could fix that. When you joined his crew, he’d work on your social skills outside of the chess board.

“No, you may keep them, you won them. I would like to make a proposition. I want to play chess with you tonight in the evening. Three games. If you win two out of three, you get 100,000 Beri.” Ideally, you’d play chess with him all day every day, but he would take things one step at a time.

You narrowed your eyes, fiddling with your scarf. “What if I lose?”

Crocodile leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. He spread his hands magnanimously, like he was granting you a favor. “If you lose, you have to join my crew and leave the Clown.”

You pursed your lips, thinking over his deal. “200,000 Beri,” you bartered. Crocodile smiled, enjoying your evident self confidence.

“150,000 Beri per night, 50,000 Beri bonus if you win all three rounds,” he countered. You agreed, shaking his hook with your hand. You were either self assured in your ability to win, or didn’t mind leaving the Clown. Either way, you’d be coming with him when he left.

~~~

Crocodile was down 1,000,000 Beri and no closer to getting you on his crew. He knew you were good, but he hadn’t anticipated you were that good. Crocodile loathed losing money, but in this instance, he didn’t mind handing it over night after night. He thought that playing face to face would increase his chances of winning, but that wasn’t the case. You were even sharper when playing with him in person rather than delayed over the course of hours and days. You were a good sport about winning, and you didn’t gloat. You also took the time to explain your thinking when Crocodile asked you about your thought processes. You did, however, have a crass mouth that Crocodile didn’t care for.

“Sucks to suck,” you replied after Crocodile complained you ended a game too swiftly for his liking.

“Do not speak to your superiors that way,” Crocodile snapped. He was peevish after having lost three games in under an hour.

“If you’re my superior, why do I keep collecting your Beri?” you said impishly. Crocodile nearly smiled at your antics.

“Speaking in such a coarse manner makes you seem less intelligent than you truly are,” Crocodile stated. He hated to see you present yourself like the common boors that made up the rest of the Clown’s crew. You gave him a bored look.

“Give me my pieces and I’ll play you again,” you said. Crocodile was interested in playing a fourth round against you but knew you were trying to change the subject. He picked up your knight he had taken and held it out to you in his hand. You reached for the piece but he closed his hand before you could retrieve it.

“Hand me my pieces, please,” he said.

“Hand me my pieces, please, Sir Crocodile.” You rolled your eyes, but dutifully repeated the phrase. Crocodile smiled at you, and opened his hand once more. You took the knight, your fingers brushing against his palm. It was the first time you’d made physical contact with each other. Crocodile wanted more.

You didn’t let Crocodile win or handicap yourself when you faced off, you always played to win. So when Crocodile won his first game, he was over the moon. He was certain you were tired when he’d won, you almost nodded off once during the game. Crocodile was concerned for your wellbeing, and it tarnished his feeling of victory. He was…worried.

“Is the Clown working you too hard? Why are you so tired?” Crocodile queried as you yawned into your hand.

“Someone is making me play chess at night after work,” you replied.

“Please, you’ve been making more than you’d earn in a month in under an hour,” Crocodile scoffed. The games between you didn’t take that long, the Clown must be putting undue stress on you. He’d…fix that for you. You hummed, resetting the board for the third game. Crocodile had enjoyed winning, but didn’t want to play if you weren’t at your best. “Let’s end early tonight. Go rest.”

You looked up at him, unsure of what to do. “But it’s only been two games, and I lost one. If I lose the next one -”

“It is my idea to conclude early, therefore you will not be bound to the usual rules. Go to bed.” Crocodile waved his hand, dismissing you.

“Thank you, Crocodile,” you said softly, lingering by the door for a moment. It was the first time you’d thanked him without his prompting.

As the days went on, you seemed to enjoy Crocodile’s company a little bit, not bolting immediately after he paid you your Beri. You had a keen wit and were able to counter Crocodile’s acerbic remarks with ease. It was obvious to Crocodile early on in your conversations that you were not well read, something else Crocodile wanted to amend. Crocodile loaned you a book about ancient Wano battle theory, asking you to read it as it would improve your chess playing. You returned it the next day, saying you read the entire work. Crocodile questioned you about the contents of the book, trying to see if you had just skimmed it or were lying. But you were able to answer his questions and provide your own insight into the strategies listed.

“What did you think about the treatise on aggressive methods of battle?” Crocodile asked. He had found a lot of useful thought exercises in the book. Having read it in his youth, it had become a cornerstone for his own strategy in becoming a Warlord and businessman.

“In chess? I don’t necessarily agree that aggression should be the foremost method of attack. Aggressive moves only work if it's balanced with knowledge of your opponent. If you don’t know who you’re dealing with, things may not work out the way you planned,” you said while moving your Queen to check Crocodile. Crocodile hummed in agreement. You were clearly intelligent, Crocodile just had to provide you with direction. He knew people were not given the same opportunities in life and was happy to supply you with some.

To that end, Crocodile was now taking an interest in your formal education. He loaned you book after book, and you read them all, sharing your opinions and thoughts on the titles. You had interesting ideas, and Crocodile found himself sharing his own with you. You tended to like mysteries and fiction novels, but read anything Crocodile lent you. You picked up and assimilated new information easily and had unique ideas, things Crocodile would never have thought about on his own. Crocodile found himself sharing his favorite books with you, just to see what you would say.

He appreciated your personality outside of the chess board the more you spent time together. Crocodile tended to make people nervous, it was practically a pastime for him. However, after your initial encounter, you weren’t tense around him at all. You didn’t mince words, you said what was on your mind, even if you knew it would annoy him. You were honest, as far as he could tell, and generally well liked among your crew. He appreciated your looks, but that was secondary to your personality, a first for Crocodile. He even started to appreciate your circus outfits, always completed by a large scarf, no matter the weather. Even without your chess skill, he would have liked to bring you onto his crew. He was going to broach the subject tonight and ask you formally to leave the Clown. He knew you would agree. He was the better choice by a long shot. Crocodile had more money, more power, more influence than the Clown would ever have. He was smarter, stronger, and richer, there was no way you’d want to stay with a second-rate loser like the Clown.

“Checkmate,” you said, moving a rook into place. You smiled at Crocodile, as he ran a hand through his hair. “By the way, that’s your tell.” Crocodile’s eyes snapped to yours.

“What are you talking about? I have no tell,” Crocodile snarled. You smiled again. Anyone else would shortly have been drained of life, but Crocodile found you endearing. Cute, even.

“It’s good to know your own tells,” you continued, undeterred by Crocodile’s outburst. “You run your hand through your hair when you are blindsided. If you can sense something is coming, you don’t. But if you are surprised, well, that’s your tell.” Crocodile paused, no one had shared that with him before. But perhaps no one had surprised him as frequently as you.

“Speaking of surprises, I have something I’d like to ask you,” Crocodile drawled, lighting a new cigar. You were already preparing to leave after the completion of the third game. That was another thing, Crocodile found himself wanting to spend more time with you outside of your matches. Having you on his crew would help with that as well. You sat back down, watching Crocodile calmly, waiting for him to continue. “I’d like you to join my crew.”

“No.”

You declined instantly and decisively. Crocodile ran a hand through his hair, scowling.

#crocodile x you #crocodile x reader #crocodile one piece #x reader #crocodile would be a sore winner #and a sore loser #op x y/n #croc x reader #sir crocodile #i think he'd also be a board flipper

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licorice-tea · 9 months ago

Text

The Object Of All My Desires

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: so much angst, unrequited feelings (or so law thinks!), pining, yearning, (verbal) fighting, cursing, reader refers to law as a “stalker”, which is valid tbh bc he’s being a little weird, but not really, strawhat reader

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: oh my god i spend so long on this and i just kept hitting mental roadblocks! but then, tonight i got the inspiration to write like ~500 words and finished it up. there were only meant to be 2 parts, but similar to the second season of bridgerton (which it’s inspired by) there will be a 3rd! (the 1st part is based on the first meeting of kate/anthony, this part is based on that entire pinning phase+the confesssion, and the last will be shorter and basically be a resolution of everything.) also, im looking for beta readers! pls dm or comment if you’re interested!!! and if you’d like to be tagged in the next lmk! thanks for reading <3

Part 1 • Part 3

The second time you and Law were around one another long enough to have to face the other and, god forbid, speak, would come 2 years after your first meeting. After all your training apart from your crew, you had finally united and started traveling together again. You and your nakama took on all the challenges Fishman Island had thrown at you and soon moved on to the next adventure: Punk Hazard. It was there you met the standoffish Captain of the Heart Pirates again, and he proposed an alliance to Luffy between your two crews. So here you are; in an alliance with a captain you’d managed to piss off 2 years ago, and who clearly still carries that grudge with him.

Law already doesn’t like being part of the alliance with Straw Hat- but you only make it 1000 times worse. It’s unbearable having to be on the same ship as you, let alone sit at the same table over meals or pass each other in hallways. Not to mention, you seem to make everything a competition. And he doesn’t want to be in as childish a feud as the one that the swordsman and the love cook have, but you’re forcing him to act that way. You’re absolutely insufferable, and how he ever found you remotely intriguing or pretty to begin with is beyond his comprehension.

And yet, Law can’t pull himself away from you, nor you from him. He lingers in dark hallways just to pass by you as you go about your errands on the ship. He stares long enough to burn holes through you, then turns away milliseconds before you catch him (or so he thinks.) But every time you approach the reserved man, he exudes an air of annoyance.

It all makes you wonder, “What’s his deal?” Besides your little tiff back in Sabaody 2 years ago, you’ve never done anything to offend him in his time on the Sunny… Maybe you just need to clear the air. Yeah, that’s it; confront Law and ensure there is no bad blood between the two of you. No grudges, just goodwill.

You hope.

The Strawhats and co (Law) are docked at a small island, just for a day or so. Frankly needs supplies, Sanji; ingredients, Chopper; medicine, Zoro; booze, etcetera. And since most of the others have something specific they’re in search of, you have a free day to explore and shop!

You bid Brooke goodbye and thank him for watching the ship, then make your way up the dock and into town. It’s a quaint area, but the market near the entrance of what resembles a town square is overflowing with interesting bits and baubles.

Though you are happy to have this time to yourself, you’re not alone. Law is a mere 20ish feet away. He doesn’t greet you or even make eye contact, instead choosing to lean into shadows and stand behind vendor booths. You can tell that he’s trying to go unnoticed, pretending to be interested in whatever wares the shopkeepers have for sale every time you turn back to check for him.

And it’s fine, for a while. This could be a good opportunity to try and talk to him and ensure that the two of you are on good, if not neutral terms. It’s a little strange that he’s following you now after the two of you have had close to no interactions during his week or so on board the Thousand Sunny, but you don’t mind.

You cannot, however, pass up the opportunity to harmlessly scare him when he gets momentarily distracted by one of the little shops. While Law is reading titles of comic books (how strange…), you double back so that when he looks up, he can’t find you. He scans the marketplace, but to no avail- you must have run off somewhere.

Then you tap his shoulder, and the man nearly jumps out of his skin as he whips his head around to see who it is.

“You really like stalking me, huh?”

“…I’m not stalking you.”

“No? Well, whatever you want to call it, it’s the second time it’s happened.”

“What are you-“

“Sabaody, 2 years ago.”

“I wasn’t stalking you then, either.”

“Fine; following me through at least 3 groves while trying to be quiet and stay out of sight.”

Law scoffs. “Whatever.”

“Hm…” You lean to the side to see what’s behind him; display shelves with various comic books. “What were you looking at?”

“Nothing, I wasn’t even looking here.”

“Ah, so it’s ok for you to lie to my face, but not me to you. Got it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

You nearly laugh. 2 years ago, after proceeding to follow you through several groves of the Archipelago, Law had insisted on knowing if you were a pirate or not, and the conversation had somehow escalated into an argument. It was a stupid little thing. But, you find it funny now, which is why you’re attempting to make jokes about the encounter and ensure him there are no hard feelings reserved over it. “Again, Sabaody.”

“Well… maybe you should stop carrying a grudge over that.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I only bring it up because I think it’s funny.”

“I think it’s childish.” Law doesn’t know why he says this, to be honest. He wants to come off as smart and witty, though he might not have executed it very well.

With a scoff, you cross your arms. “Law you’ve refused to even look at me in your time with my crew. When I try to talk to you, you act like you don’t hear me or straight up ignore me. Then you go and stare at me from across as if I can’t see you. And I’m childish?”

“Yeah, you are, and I don’t like you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Better than you being an awkward asshole with no explanations as to why.”

“I’m not fucking awkward, shut up.”

“Oh no, you just follow people around for the better part of an hour without talking to them. Very charming.”

Law huffs, unamused, and storms off without another word.

You sigh and continue browsing the stalls. “Ok, so, maybe there is some bad blood between us….”

Things are awkward between you and Law for the remainder of the evening. Not only is he avoiding you, but you’re also avoiding him. And though you still try your best to be at least a little friendly, he straight up ignores all of your attempts. Whereas before your little confrontation in the marketplace, the stoic man would have at least responded with an eye roll.

When it’s dinnertime, you take your seat next to Robin as usual. Casual conversation and laughter flow around the table easily and seemingly endlessly… until Law walks in. He sits in the only empty chair, next to Chopper’s, and nods at Sanji in thanks for the food. And you, foolishly, try to incorporate him into the conversation. Maybe you do it to try and heal the small rift between the two of you, or maybe you simply want to provoke him further (though you'd never admit it.)

“So, Law, how was your day?”

Everyone pauses their conversations to not-so-discreetly listen in. They had also recognized the growing tension between you and the ally captain, for seemingly no reason at all.

“Mind your own business.”

“Hard to do when you’re always in mine.”

He nearly spits out his drink.“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m starting to get sick of your behavior, y/n.”

“So sick that you just can’t seem to leave me alone?”

“Watch the way you speak to me-“

“My apologies Law, I’m so used to being watched by you rather than having conversations, I must have forgotten my manners-“

“Shut up!”

“Fuck you!”

Now that both of your voices are raised, the crew sees it fit to intervene.

“Watch how you speak to them, Trafalgar-“ Sanji warns.

Similarly, Robin tries to talk you down. “Y/n, he’s our ally-“

The attempts to calm what had nearly turned into a screaming match prove futile, as Law storms out. You scoff and cross your arms. He’s so infuriating, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Silence passes as your crewmates look between each other, none wanting to be the first to… console you? Admonish? Give advice.

“You two should talk, y/n.” Says Robin, ever so mature.

“If he wants to talk, he can come to me instead of constantly staring at me from across the deck without saying anything.”

“Well, he’s clearly not very good at showing it, but you realize that he likes you, don’t you?”

You blink and turn to look at her. This must be another one of her dark jokes. “Very funny, Robin.”

“Oh, y/n, come on!“ Usopp groans; he’s had enough of the yearning and tension. “You seriously didn’t know?”

“No! Because he doesn’t like me. He’s been holding a stupid grudge against me since the first time we met back in Sabaody-“

Nami backs up Usopp’s point; “A crush, y/n. He’s had a crush on you and he’s too shy to talk to you normally-“

“So, what, it’s ok for him to just watch from afar but then act like a jerk when I try and talk to him?”

Surprisingly, Chopper speaks up next. “…Maybe your intentions came off different than intended?”

This makes you bite your lip in thought. Perhaps they had.

Nami pats your shoulder, “Now, go work this out so the rest of us don’t have to deal with all your unresolved tension.”

You unintentionally pout; the last thing you want is to talk to Law right now. But, your crew urges you on, and all but pushes you out the door.

You find him pacing back and forth on the starboard deck of the Sunny.

“Law?”

He whips around and you swear you see his scowl become even more pronounced than usual. The crease between his brows deepens, as the corners of his lips turn into a borderline pout. “Not done tormenting me?

“Tormenting? I just… I came to talk to you.“

“I find that hard to believe. From the moment we met, you have been nothing but rude and a nuisance to me.”

You scoff, all plans of reconciliation forgotten. “Believe me, Law, the feeling is mutual.”

“Fuck off.”

“This is my ship, so why don’t you fuck off? Jump overboard for all I care.”

“Maybe I will if it gets me away from you.” Law turns on his heel and storms off the open deck and into a hallway.

“Good luck swimming, asshole!”

Your rebuttal brings him right back to his former position, face to face with you so that your screaming match can continue “I hope you know that every moment I have to spend on this ship is torture, y/n, all because of you.”

“I haven’t done shit to you, Law.”

“Then whose fault is it that I feel this way? Go on, name someone else so I can take it out on them instead.”

“It’s your fault if you feel any type of way about me besides amicably. I’ve been nothing but kind, and-“

“Bullshit. Whether you know it or not you’ve done… something to me, I can feel it.”

“Oh yeah? And since when do you know anything about how you feel, all you do is brood.”

“I don’t brood. And I know that you are the bane of my existence.” He spits back, making sure to emphasize the word bane.

You hold your breath, refusing to play into this childish argument any longer. Or maybe it’s because, even if it’s just a little, his words genuinely hurt. You realize then, that you don’t want to be the so called ‘bane of his existence.’ He takes your silence as an opportunity to continue, though at a much lower volume than before.

“… And the object of all my desires.”

After a moment of disbelief, your scowl turns to a raised brow. “Excuse me?”

“Every one of my waking hours is plagued by thoughts of you. It doesn’t help that I can’t go anywhere on this goddamned ship-“

“Don’t you talk about the Sunny that way-“

“- without seeing you!”

“Well you must enjoy being around me if you’ve decided I’m,” you create air quotations with your hands, “the object of all your desires.”

You feel so out of your depth now. All you know to do is to bite back with witty remarks, even when he opens up to you. And he seems to do the exact same.

“It’s a nuisance.”

Your lip trembles, but you refuse to cry in front of Law while he plays this sick mind game with you. “I didn’t know liking me was such an awful fate.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “There are so many other things I should be focused on, but all I think of is you. It’s not awful, but it’s making me weak.”

“You’re such a prick, Law.”

He’s bewildered, mouth gaping as he tries to understand what could’ve been wrong with what he’s just confessed to you. “I’m saying I like you, y/n, I- Do you hate me that much?”

“No, I don’t hate you, idiot! But you- when you started traveling with us, you made me feel like I had done something to offend you, and then when I confronted you about it in the market you started to really hold a grudge, then you - I just- that’s not how you treat people!”

“Y/n-“

“Are you messing with me right now, Law? Is this another play to try and gain the upper hand in this… ongoing thing we have?”

“No, I wouldn’t…” He trails off and shakes his head. He probably would, if he weren’t so enamored with you and on the condition he possessed the social skills to pull off such an elaborate scheme. “It’s not.”

You’re silent again, but both you and Law are refusing to break eye contact. He must notice your still watery eyes and trembling bottom lip because he steps forward. His hand travels to your arm, then your chin. Forced to look at him, you are pained to see a similar unhappy look in his eyes. Minus the tears. You could almost take him for sorry if it weren’t Trafalgar Law, of all people. So instead of falling into his arms like you suddenly feel a desperate need to; you step backward.

You fold your arms over your chest as you look off somewhere- anywhere besides his eyes. “Law, nothing good can come of this.”

“This? What is this, y/n?”

“These.. feelings.”

“You feel the same?”

“I didn’t ask to feel this way!” You bite back, “But… yes, I do.”

“So what should we do?”

“We aren’t going to do anything, Law. You just stay in your lane, and I’ll stay in mine.”

“I thought you didn’t like that I was avoiding you?”

“Well now that I know why, what else can be done? Nothing can happen between us, Law. And we can’t allow feelings to complicate this alliance. I can’t allow that, at least; it’s too important to Luffy.”

He searches for reasoning that will trump yours but comes up with none. And so, with a heavy heart, he concedes. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Nothing happened.” Law confirms.

“And nothing will.”

You nod and start walking away. “Goodnight, Law.”

“Goodnight, y/n.”

And once you’re back safely in your room, the tears start to spill. You hate this- you hate him. You hate the way he makes you feel. You hate that you’re in love with him, and it took you this long to realize.

The tears don’t stop until you’re knocked out, and by the time you wake up, they’ve stained your cheeks.

Taglist: @augustanna @lavanderdreamve @pinksaiyans @khaleesihavilliard @jennapancake

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #x reader #law x reader #law x you #law x y/n #trafalgar d law x reader #law angst #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #straw hat reader #straw hat pirates

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nightwolf-525 · 29 days ago

Text

Aged up GlassHeart AU

Red grew up confined to Wonderland. The ‘Horrible excuse of a man’ (as her mother liked to call him) King Beast had manipulated a young fairy into sealing Wonderland away because he wasn’t man enough to handle Bridget (Red’s mother) refusing to kneel before him.

Of course, this was all her mother’s perspective but Red was inclined to believe her given her mother rarely ever lied, at least to her.

Red is 23 years old when a letter comes from Auradon from a King Ben, likely the Beast’s son, saying that he would like to host an ambassador from Wonderland for a few days as the first step to forming an alliance with Wonderland.

The Queen of Hearts decides to send Red, her heir as the ambassador for a number of reasons. 1) No one in Auradon knows who the girl is and will therefore not treat her as royalty. 2) Red is the most skilled soldier in the Queens army and should have no trouble defending herself and returning home should this invitation be a trap. 3) For a similar reason to the first. Red will not be treated as royalty and will therefore not be expected to act like royalty. Bridget sends Red as a gift to Red herself. A few days to learn Auradon and experience something new without the responsibilities of a royal heir.

Red goes happily. She is greeted warmly and treated well, though the princess can tell the Auradonians were not excepting someone so young. Nevermind that, if they try to manipulate or underestimate her due to her age she will know what kind of people they are.

Red finds King Ben to be kind, if not a little boring. His wife, and Queen, on the other hand intrigues Red though she does not receive a chance to truly interact with the woman. In the evenings/nights Red is gifted a guide. A bright excitable young woman who is about Red’s age. She introduces herself as Dizzy and happily shows Red around the Kingdom. It was her third and last night there when Red finally asks Dizzy about the night life. Dizzy smiles and takes her to a club. Red is unfamiliar with the name, but she understands the concept well enough, they have something similar in Wonderland. She thanks Dizzy and ventures into the crowded club.

She’s been there an hour when she lays eyes on the most stunning and beautiful woman she has ever seen. The woman has curly blue hair and her skin…oh her skin…it’s far darker than any Red has seen in Wonderland but still lighter than a few people she has seen since being in Auradon and Red finds herself enthralled with the way the lights of the club dance off the woman’s bare shoulders. Red has never been one to deny herself something she so clearly wants so she approach’s and offers to buy the woman a drink. The minute the bluehaired woman looks at her Red knows this isn’t going to be a one and done thing for her.

“Chloe.” The woman introduces herself.

Red smiles, “Red. I didn’t realize this Kingdom had woman as beautiful as you. I would have visited a lot sooner.”

Chloe laughs at her and Red finds herself wanting to hear that sound again and again and again. They talk for hours and Red can’t get enough of the beautiful woman, but it’s getting late and she knows she should leave. She regretfully informs Chloe of such and then offers her hand.

“You could join me?” She asks hopefully.

Chloe hesitates, but eventually smiles and takes Red’s hand. The night that follows is the best Red has ever had. She’s no stranger to the female body. She knows how to manipulate a woman’s pleasure to her advantage, but this feels different. Feels real. As she pulls one last wave of pleasure from Chloe’s body and watches as the woman sinks into her bed completely sated and exhausted Red decides that she won’t let this be a one time thing. But that’s a conversation for the morning. Red curls herself around Chloe and falls asleep easier than she has in years.

Red wakes up to an empty bed. No Chloe. No note. Not even a last name. Nothing she can use to find the woman again. She’s left alone with thinking but the memories of the night they shared and feeling of her heart shattering.

Dun dun dun!

Any thoughts?

#chloe charming #glassheart #red hearts #chloe x red #descendants rise of red #charminghearts #descendants the rise of red #ao3 #descendants #writing

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bloodreinasbathwater · 5 months ago

Text

Where Kings Land

Part 1

Jacaerys Velaryon x Stark! Reader

a.n: I finally get the hype about Jace. This right here is one fine man. the hair, the freckles, the big nose. ALL of it. this is part 1 of the miniseries for House of the Dragon, and it's my first time writing outside of the regular asoiaf series. Enjoy and please lmk what you think!!

Warnings: manipulation, not proofread, yelling, cursing? talk of beheading and treason.

Word Count: 4,900

masterlist link

summary: In the harsh lands of the North, where winter's bite is ever-present, a tale of duty, desire, and deception unfolds within the ancient walls of Winterfell. Y/N Stark, sister to the absent Lord Cregan, finds herself caught in a web of political intrigue as the realm teeters on the brink of civil war.

...

The heavy wooden door slammed behind her with a resounding thud, echoing through the granite corridors of Winterfell. Y/n Stark—sister to the Lord of Winterfell, Cregan Stark—strode purposefully down the hallway, her frustration evident in every step. The torches lining the walls cast flickering shadows across her face, highlighting the furrow of her brow. She yanked her fur cloak tighter around her shoulders, warding off the perpetual chill that seeped through the ancient stones. The servants scurried out of her path, lowering their eyes as she passed. Y/n barely noticed them, her mind occupied with the litany of tasks that lay before her. The castle, a sprawling behemoth of grey stone and timber, was a living, breathing entity, and Y/n felt the weight of its responsibilities press down on her.

Cregan, her brother, was a warrior, a leader born to the battlefield. He thrived on the thrill of the hunt, the clash of steel, the shouts of battle. The day-to-day running of Winterfell, the endless paperwork, the constant negotiations, the delicate dance of alliances and diplomacy… these fell upon his shoulders. He was a silent force, a steady hand guiding the ship through the turbulent seas of politics and power.

Reaching the grand hall, Y/n paused, her gaze sweeping over the gathered lords and ladies. Their conversations buzzed like a hive of bees, their laughter echoing off the vaulted ceiling. She longed to be amongst them, to share in the joy of a feast, to ease the burden of her thoughts, but the weight of the impending winter hung heavy on her heart.

The biting wind whipped around Y/n's face as she ascended the final steps to the maester's tower. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and old magic, a familiar and comforting aroma despite its inherent chill. Inside, the room was bathed in the soft glow of a single lantern, casting long shadows across the piles of scrolls and tomes that littered the floor. Y/n's boots clicked against the stone floor, a sharp counterpoint to the rustle of the raven that perched on the window sill, its beady eyes fixed on her with an unsettling intelligence. The bird was a harbinger of news, always, and today, its arrival had filled her with a sense of foreboding dread.

“You've got ravens in your hair,” the maester, Alyn, said with a dry chuckle, his voice raspy from years of whispering secrets into ancient texts. He was a frail figure, his fingers gnarled and stained with ink, his eyes filled with a wisdom that seemed to encompass the entirety of the world. She brushed at her hair, dislodging a stray feather that had become entangled in its braids. 'They know I'm coming for them,' she said, her voice tight. 'They always seem to.'

Alyn nodded, a knowing glint in his eyes. 'King's Landing sends more than its fair share of worries north,' he said, gesturing to the table in the centre of the room. It was an imposing piece, carved from ancient oak, the surface groaning under the weight of a mountain of sealed parchments. Y/n sighed, letting the weight of the responsibility settle upon her shoulders. Every one of those scrolls contained a new burden, a new demand, a new headache she would have to unravel. The North had always been harsh, a land of unforgiving winters and fiercer people.

'What's the news, maester?' she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Alyn shuffled through the pile of scrolls, his gaze searching for a particular one. “They're now threatening us with dragon fire, my lady,” he stated solemnly, the chain around his neck clinking softly.

Y/n's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the pile of letters that lay on the table before her. Her jaw clenched, her anger rising like a tide. “Burn them,” she commanded, her voice sharp and decisive. “Burn all the letters. We will not answer, nor will we cower.”

Alyn's eyebrows rose in surprise, but Y/n's resolve only grew stronger. “Prince Jacaerys should be here any day. We will make good with the Blacks.”

Maester Alyn leaned back in his chair, studying her face. 'Are you certain, my lady? This is a dangerous game we play. The Green's dragons—"

“Are no more fearsome than the winter that forged us,” Y/n cut him off. She moved to the window, gazing out over the frost-covered courtyard. “My brother may be in the north of the Wall, but we will not be cowed by southern threats.”

Her words echoed through the frigid halls, carrying with them a resolute determination that belied her youth. “You are right, my lady,” he said at last.

Y/n turned to him, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. “Thank you, Maester Alyn. Please, have the letters burned. We must prepare for the prince's arrival. We’ll show him true Northern hospitality. And maester," she added, a hint of a smile playing at her lips, "make sure we have plenty of that strong northern ale. We'll need it for the toast when we pledge our support to Queen Rhaenyra."

Maester Alyn nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. He reached for the candle on his desk, ready to carry out her orders. "As you wish, my lady. there's one more," he said softly, holding out a sealed parchment. "It arrived separately... and it's addressed to you personally."

Y/n hesitated, then took the letter. The seal bore the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen, but something about it seemed different. More... personal. With a swift motion, she broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. Her eyes scanned the contents, and her face hardened.

"It's from Aegon," she said, her voice tight. She began to read aloud:

"My dearest y/n,

The silence between us cuts like shards of Valyrian steel, slicing through my soul. Do you remember the stolen moments in the godswood, under the watchful eyes of the old gods? The promises we made beneath the heart tree?I await your reply to our ravens with bated breath, much as I once awaited your stolen glances across the great hall.

But make no mistake, my white wolf. Your beauty will not shield the North from my wrath should you choose wrongly. Aemond grows impatient and Vhagar hungers for blood. With one word, we could reduce Winterfell to nothing but ash and bone.

Remember this, my sweetling: fire destroys ice. And dragons do not forgive.

Choose wisely. Choose me.

Yours in fire and blood, Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm"

y/n’s hand shook as she finished reading, her knuckles white where she gripped the parchment. The maester watched her, concern etched on his weathered face.

"My lady," he began cautiously, "what—"

"Burn it," Y/n interrupted, her voice cold as the Wall itself. "Burn it with the rest." She tossed the letter onto the pile, her eyes blazing with a fury to match any dragon's flame.

…

Amidst the icy grip of the winter, the last traces of sunlight had long since disappeared beyond the horizon when a thunderous beating of dragon wings shattered the bleak silence. Y/n stood in Winterfell's snowy courtyard, her chilled breath leaving clouds in the frigid air as she looked up to witness the dark shape descending from the sky.

With ethereal grace surprising for its size, the dragon landed with a resounding thud and steam rising from its scales as they met the frosty ground. As its rider dismounted, y/n found herself frozen in place, her carefully prepared greeting dying on her lips.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon strode towards her, his Valyrian features softened by Stark coloring. Dark curls framed his face, windswept from the flight. But it was his eyes that caught y/n off guard - soft and kind, yet holding a depth that spoke of burdens she had yet to find out.

For a moment, the world seemed to fall away. Y/n's heart raced as she stood before the prince, a stranger yet somehow familiar. She couldn't explain the sudden pull she felt towards him, as if they shared a connection beyond words. But at the same time, fear and doubt crept in, questioning if this was all just a dream or a cruel trick of fate.

Jacaerys approached, his movements as graceful as the dragon he rode. His brow furrowed slightly at her silence. He glanced around, perhaps wondering if he'd made some misstep. Finally, he bowed low, breaking the spell. "Lady Stark," he said, his voice a low, warm timbre that sent a shiver down her spine. " I am honored to meet you. And I thank you for your hospitality."

Y/n blinked, suddenly aware of the eyes of the entire courtyard upon them. She straightened, pulling her mask of cool composure back into place. "Prince Jacaerys," she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "Winterfell welcomes you. Please, come inside where it's warm. We have much to discuss."

As she turned to lead him into the castle, Y/n caught the prince studying her with curiosity. She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with a challenging look of her own. Whatever this feeling was, she couldn't afford to let it distract her. The fate of the North hung in the balance.

Yet as they walked, she couldn't help but be acutely aware of his presence just behind her, like the warmth of a flame at her back in the cold northern night.

…

The Brown Room lived up to its name, with rich walnut paneling and fur-draped chairs that spoke of comfort in the face of long northern nights. Y/N led Jacaerys inside, the scent of beeswax candles and old parchment greeting them. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the cluttered table where ledgers and letters vied for space.

Y/N gestured to a high-backed chair. "Please, sit," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. She reached for a decanter, the crystal cool against her fingers. "Would you care for some wine, my Lord? It's a Dornish red – my favorite one."

Jacaerys settled into the chair, his eyes roaming the room before settling on Y/N. "Thank you, my lady. And please, call me Jace."

As she poured, a drop of wine escaped, staining the cuff of her sleeve crimson. Y/N barely noticed, too aware of Jace's proximity, the warmth radiating from him in the cool room.

"What did you wish to discuss, my lady?" Jace broached softly, accepting the goblet with a nod of thanks.

Suddenly, the room felt stifling. Y/N's heavy fur cloak, a necessity in Winterfell's drafty halls, now seemed unbearable. She shed it, draping it over the tall oak chair behind her. The firelight caught the silver direwolf clasp as it settled.

"Our support," Y/N replied, forcing herself to meet Jace's gaze. His eyes, she noticed, were flecked with gold in the candlelight. She swallowed hard and continued, "We have two thousand men. Strong northern fighters. We call them Winter Wolves."

Jace leaned forward, interest piqued. "Winter Wolves? An apt name, I'd wager."

Y/N allowed herself a small smile. "Indeed. They're as fierce as their namesake and twice as loyal." She moved to the table, rifling through the papers until she found a particular map. As she spread it out, the familiar scent of ink and parchment helped ground her.

"Here," she pointed, "is where we've gathered them. They await only my brother's word - or mine, in his absence."

Jace stood, moving to study the map. His arm brushed Y/N's as he leaned in, and she caught a whiff of leather and something else - perhaps the lingering scent of dragon scales. Jacaerys studied the map closely, tracing his fingers over the different markings and symbols. He was impressed by the precision and detail of the Winter Wolves' gathering points.

"Your brother must be a formidable leader to have gathered such a force in such a short time," Jace remarked, straightening up and turning to face Y/N.

"Yes, he is," Y/N said with pride.

"This is... more than we dared hope for," Jace admitted, his voice low and warm.

Outside, a wolf howled in the distance, a lonely sound that seemed to echo Y/N's inner turmoil. She squared her shoulders, pushing away the unwelcome feelings. Jace's brow furrowed as he studied Y/N's face. "My lady, are you well? You seem... flushed."

Y/N startled, realizing she'd been staring. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, painfully aware of the dampness at her temples. "I'm fine, my- Jace," she corrected herself. "I was... under the weather a few days ago. Nothing serious."

Jace's eyes softened with concern. Jace's hand hovers near Y/N's elbow, his fingers poised as if ready to reach out and catch her. She can feel the warmth radiating off of his skin, and she can sense the electricity between them, even though he's not quite touching her. "Perhaps you should sit. We needn't discuss everything tonight."

The gentleness in his voice made Y/N's heart flutter. She sank into a nearby chair, Jace following suit. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, giving her his full attention. His eyes were pools of liquid silver, soft and caring as they searched Y/N's face.

"Tell me," he said softly, "how are you truly faring? It can't be easy, managing the North in your brother's absence."

Y/N's carefully constructed walls began to crumble under his earnest gaze. "It's... challenging," she admitted. "Especially with the constant stream of demands from King's Landing."

Jace's expression darkened. "Ah, yes. I've heard whispers of Aegon's... correspondence."

Y/N couldn't hide the flash of frustration that crossed her face. "Correspondence," she scoffed. "Threats, more like. Your cousin seems to think he can bully the North into submission."

"My cousin," Jace said, his voice low and intense, "forgets that winter roses have thorns." He reached out, this time taking Y/N's hand in his. The touch sent a jolt through her. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. "You needn't face this alone, my lady."

Y/N found herself lost in his eyes, warm and sincere. "I... thank you, Jace," she murmured.

A log shifted in the fireplace, sending up a shower of sparks. Jace glanced at the flames, then back to Y/N, a mischievous smile playing at his lips. "You know, where I come from, they say the dragonfires pale in comparison to the warmth of a northern welcome."

Despite herself, Y/N laughed. "Is that so? And how does our hospitality measure up?"

Jace's thumb traced circles on the back of her hand, his touch feather-light. "Oh, it exceeds all expectations, my lady. Though I must confess, I find myself most warmed by present company."

Y/N felt her cheeks burn, but for once, she didn't mind the heat. A small smile tugged at the corners of Y/N's lips as she gazed into his captivating eyes. "You're quite the charmer, Prince Jacaerys."

"Only when properly inspired," is all he replied.

…

The pale light of dawn crept over Winterfell's stone walls, casting long shadows across the frosted courtyard. Y/N stood in the stables, her breath visible in the crisp morning air.

Her fingers, slightly numb from the cold, worked methodically on the leather straps of her horse's saddle. The familiar motions were soothing - tighten, adjust, check, repeat. The rich scent of hay and horse sweat mingled with the earthy aroma of leather oil.

As she worked, Y/N caught herself glancing repeatedly towards the castle, anticipation building in her chest.

The sound of approaching footsteps made her heart quicken. Jace appeared in the stable doorway, silhouetted against the brightening sky. He stifled a yawn, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Y/N noticed the slight disarray of his dark curls and felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to smooth them.

"My lady," Jace greeted, his voice husky with sleep. He cleared his throat, offering a sheepish smile. "You're up early."

Y/N felt the corners of her mouth twitch upward. "The North waits for no one, Your Grace," she replied, handing him a set of reins. Their fingers brushed, and Y/N pretended not to notice the warmth that spread from the point of contact. "Are you ready for an adventure?"

As they set out, the rhythmic clop of hooves against cobblestone gave way to the muffled thud of earth. The misty woods enveloped them, tendrils of fog curling around the horses' legs. Droplets of dew clung to Y/N's eyelashes, refracting the weak sunlight into tiny prisms.

Y/N led the way, her posture relaxed and confident in the saddle. She navigated the invisible path with ease, ducking low-hanging branches and steering around hidden roots. Behind her, she could hear Jace's horse snorting softly, its rider muttering gentle reassurances.

"I can hardly see the path," Jace called out, a note of uncertainty in his voice.

Y/N twisted in her saddle, catching Jace's eye with a mischievous glint in her own. "That's because there isn't one," she replied, allowing a rare, playful smile to cross her features.

The forest was a symphony of morning sounds. Birds trilled their dawn chorus, their songs echoing through the mist-shrouded trees. Small creatures rustled in the underbrush, sending leaves skittering across the forest floor. The earthy scent of damp soil and pine needles filled the air, punctuated by the occasional whiff of wild mint when Y/N's horse trampled a hidden patch.

Hours seemed to pass as they wound their way through the increasingly dense forest. Y/N found herself hyper-aware of Jace's presence behind her. She could feel his eyes on her back, and fought the urge to glance over her shoulder more often than necessary.

Finally, they came upon a rocky outcropping. Y/N dismounted with practiced grace, her boots sinking slightly into the damp earth. She patted her horse's flank, murmuring soft words of thanks. From the corner of her eye, she watched Jace dismount, noting the slight stiffness in his movements after the long ride.

Jace stretched, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension. His brow furrowed as he surveyed their surroundings. "My lady," he began, a hint of amusement in his tone, "I hate to question your expertise, but this looks suspiciously like a dead end."

Y/N's laugh echoed off the rocks, startling a nearby bird into flight. "Patience, Your Grace," she said, her eyes twinkling with secret knowledge. "The best treasures are often hidden."

She reached out, taking Jace's hand in hers. His palm was warm against her cool fingers, and she felt a flutter in her stomach at the contact. Pushing the feeling aside, she led him towards what appeared to be a solid rock face.

As they drew closer, a narrow opening revealed itself, barely visible unless one knew exactly where to look. Y/N squeezed through first, tugging Jace along behind her. The passage was tight, the rough stone scraping against their shoulders. Cool, damp air enveloped them, carrying the faint mineral scent of underground water.

Jace's breath was warm on the back of Y/N's neck as they inched forward in the dim light. She was acutely aware of his presence, of the way his chest occasionally brushed against her back in the narrow confines.

Suddenly, the passage opened up. Y/N stepped aside, allowing Jace to fully enter the cavern. She watched his face intently, savoring the moment his eyes widened in awe.

Sunlight streamed through an opening high above, illuminating a spectacular waterfall. The water, tinted an ethereal light blue by minerals in the rock, cascaded down in a thunderous rush before crashing into a pool below. Mist rose from the impact, creating tiny rainbows where the light hit just right.

"By the gods," Jace breathed, his voice barely audible over the roar of the falls. He turned to Y/N, wonder written across his features. "It's incredible."

Y/N felt a warmth bloom in her chest at his reaction. "Welcome to my secret place," she said softly, suddenly feeling shy. "Not even Cregan knows about this."

Jace's gaze softened as he looked at her, something unspoken passing between them. "Thank you for sharing this with me," he said, his voice low and sincere.

They settled on a smooth rock near the pool's edge, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched. The mist from the falls cooled their skin, a welcome relief after the long ride. Y/N pulled out a small bundle from her saddlebag - bread, cheese, and a flask of sweet northern ale.

The conversation lulled, replaced by the constant rush of the waterfall. Y/N traced patterns in the damp sand with a stick, her eyes distant. Jace watched her, noting the slight furrow in her brow.

"A copper for your thoughts, my lady?" he asked softly.

Y/N looked up, a rueful smile tugging at her lips. "Just thinking about duties," she said. "They never seem to end, do they?"

Jace nodded, understanding in his eyes. "The burden of our birthrights," he agreed. "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be free of them."

"Free," Y/N echoed, the word hanging in the mist between them. She sighed, tossing the stick into the pool. "Cregan writes often of my duties. He's pressuring me more and more to find a husband."

Jace's expression shifted, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "I... I apologize if I'm intruding, but may I ask why you haven't? Surely you've had no shortage of suitors."

Y/N met his gaze, finding unexpected comfort in the warmth she saw there. "Because I want love," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want a simple life, filled with moments like this." She gestured to the cavern around them. "But how can I promise forever to someone when tomorrow is so uncertain? How can I build a life amidst a war?"

Jace was quiet for a moment, considering her words. "Love in wartime," he mused. "It's not an easy path, but perhaps... perhaps it's the very thing that makes the fight worthwhile."

Y/N felt her heart quicken at his words. "And what of you, Prince Jacaerys? What does your heart seek in these troubled times?"

Jace's gaze softened as he looked at her. "I seek a partner," he said quietly. "Someone to stand beside me, not behind me. Someone who understands duty but hasn't lost sight of dreams." He paused, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Someone who knows the value of secret waterfalls and stolen moments."

The air between them seemed to crackle with unspoken possibility. Y/N felt drawn to him, like a moth to flame, but held herself back. This was not the time, not with so much at stake.

"It seems we both seek something rare and precious," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Jace nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Perhaps the gods will be kind," he murmured.

…

The iron-bound gates of Winterfell groaned open, admitting Y/N and Jace as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was thick with the scent of pine and woodsmoke, punctuated by the sharp tang of approaching frost. Their horses' hooves clattered against the worn cobblestones, the sound echoing off the ancient stone walls.

As they dismounted, Y/N felt the day's exertion in her muscles, a pleasant ache that spoke of adventure and freedom. She caught Jace's eye, noticing how the fading light caught the silver threads in his jerkin, making them shimmer like starlight.

"Jace," she began, her voice low and tinged with an emotion she dared not name, "today was—"

"Lady Y/N! Lady Y/N!" The frantic shout shattered the moment like a stone through ice.

Y/N's transformation was instantaneous and mesmerizing. Her shoulders squared, chin lifting as if an invisible crown had settled upon her brow. The softness in her eyes hardened to flint, sharp enough to cut.

"What is it?" she demanded, her voice crisp as a midwinter morning.

The guard skidded to a halt before them, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "My lady, there's been... an incident. You're needed urgently."

Y/N nodded curtly. "Lead on," she commanded, then turned to Jace. "Your Grace, I must attend to this. Perhaps we could speak later..."

Jace stepped forward, close enough that Y/N could smell the leather of his riding gloves and a hint of something spicy—cloves, perhaps. "If you'll allow me, I'd like to accompany you.”

Y/N hesitated, then inclined her head in agreement. They followed the guard, their footsteps echoing through Winterfell's torch-lit corridors. The warmth of the castle was a stark contrast to the chill outside, yet Y/N felt a different kind of coldness settling in her bones.

They entered a small, dim room that reeked of fear and desperation. A man knelt on the floor, the rattle of his chains a counterpoint to his broken sobs. In the flickering torchlight, his tear-stained face looked ghastly, almost skull-like.

"What has he done?" Y/N's voice cut through the room like a blade.

The man looked up, his eyes wide and pleading. Y/N's voice sliced through the tense atmosphere like a blade, her words sharp and filled with accusation. The man shrunk back in his seat, his eyes wide and pleading as he desperately tried to defend himself.

"My lady," he stammered, "I beg you... I was only going to King's Landing, to pledge myself to King Aegon, my children. Is that such a crime?" His voice trembled with fear and uncertainty, his hands shaking as he awaited her judgement.

Y/N's gaze bore into him, seeking any sign of deceit or treachery. Observation seemed to be her weapon of choice, and she wielded it with expert precision. Y/N's lips thinned. "If you wished to leave, you could have done so freely. We do not hold men against their will in the North. Or have you forgotten our ways so quickly?"

The guard cleared his throat, the sound like gravel underfoot. "There's more, my lady. He attempted to steal half the winter rations and one of our best horses. Caught him in the act, we did."

The man's sobs crescendoed. "You can't behead an innocent man!" he wailed, his voice cracking. "You and Lord Cregan, you'll be the death of House Stark! The North will remember this betrayal!"

Y/N stood motionless, but Jace saw the almost imperceptible tightening of her jaw, the slight tremor in her clenched fists. The room fell silent save for the man's ragged breathing and the soft hiss of the torches.

Her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to keep her composure. Jace watched as Y/N stood motionless, her face a mask of stoic determination, but he could see the anger burning in her gaze.

"Send him to the Wall," Jace suggested, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through Y/N's chest. "It's a harsh sentence, yes, but one that allows him to redeem himself in service to the realm."

Y/N turned to him, her eyes unreadable in the dim light. "Or I could let him go," she mused, her voice barely above a whisper. "But then, what message would that send? That theft and betrayal go unpunished in the North?"

"Take his fingers, my lady," the guard interjected. "It's an old punishment, aye, but effective. He'd bear the mark of his crime, but keep his life and limbs... most of them, at least."

Y/N closed her eyes briefly, and in that moment, Jace saw the weight of the North resting on her shoulders. When she opened them again, they gleamed with resolve.

"You've given me much to consider," she said, her voice steady as the foundations of Winterfell itself. "I'll not make this decision in haste. Guard, take him to the cells. See that he's fed and given water. I'll pass judgment when the sun rises."

As the guard led the prisoner away, his pleas fading down the corridor, Y/N turned to Jace. The torchlight cast dancing shadows across her face, highlighting the sharp planes of her cheekbones and the weariness in her eyes.

Jace moved towards Y/N, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. She could feel the heat emanating from his body, a welcome warmth against the coldness that had nestled in her chest. He spoke gently, never breaking eye contact with her. "You carry your burden with grace, my lady," he murmured, his voice deep and soothing.

Y/N held his gaze for a moment, allowing herself to bask in the comfort of his words. But as quickly as it had come, the moment passed. She took a step back, "Grace," she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Grace is a luxury, Your Grace. In the North, we survive on harsher virtues."

Her eyes, once warm and inviting, now held a wintry gleam. The soft curves of her face seemed to harden, as if the very stone of Winterfell was seeping into her bones. With those words, Y/N turned away, her cloak swirling around her like a shroud. As she walked deeper into the shadows of Winterfell's halls, Jace was left with the unsettling feeling that he'd glimpsed not just the Lady of Winterfell, but a portent of the harsh days to come.

The torches guttered in a sudden draft, and for a moment, the corridor was plunged into darkness. When the light returned, Y/N was gone, leaving behind only the echo of her words and the lingering chill of premonition.

...

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