#event: new year . new alliances

[readychilledwine]

hello!! please could i request one where the reader is an OG member of the IC and very close to azriel (she knows that he’s her mate, he doesn’t) and sister-like to the rest of the IC. once feyre and her sisters come about, she often confides with feyre so they’re also close.

anyway, there’s an important event for the reader on day and she expected the rest of the IC would join her (she invited them?) but no one turned up and she’s absolutely exhausted, emotionally and physically, by the end of the day.

when she’s back, everyone is together at the house having fun and one of them notices she so dressed up but looked exhausted. maybe someone says something snarky and there’s an argument. azriel defends the snarky person so reader and azriel have an argument (hurtful words towards the reader) and that’s when the mating bond snaps for az and he’s regretful. things happen but happy ending for the reader, az and the IC. thank you 🫶🏼💗

Odd One Out

Summary - After 500 years of friendship, the last thing you ever expected was the Inner circle to miss one of your symphonies. But you know what they say, time changes people.

Warnings - I warned you all to watch out for angst, right? Elain being catty, reader feeling lonely, Azriel being an idiot

A/N - I promise Bound by Fate is still coming. I'm just constantly rereading it and not happy with where it's at. It's probably because I needed this out of my system. I hope this is close enough to what you were looking for! It wrote itself, so I'm worried it may stray too far from the ask! Please let me know if it did.

✨️ Azriel Masterlist✨️

Odd One Out pt 2

Maybe you had asked too much again. You looked to where the empty seats for the Inner Circle and Archeron sisters sat one last time before moving forward. You had worked too hard on this symphony to let this stop you. You were the last to go on stage, the conductor in her gorgeous sparkling gown and heels. You were the picture perfect face of composure as you bowed before turning and raising your hands.

You were introduced to Rhysand at a young age, and the two of you were quickly friends, so when he became High Lord, a place at his side was handed to you without question. You were eloquent, elegant, and kind. You were perfect for the position of emissary, and you single handedly won him friendships and alliances among every court aside from Spring.

He had never stopped you from pursuing passion, though. Your father had forced you into harp lessons from the tender age of 4 until his untimely death. He sat by your side for hours, teaching you to speak through letters written on a sheet that so fee could truly understand. It was an escape that turned into a career. One Rhysand specifically built the amphitheater you currently stood on for. The music you wrote woke emotion on the High Lord and all of Velaris, quickly making you one of the most popular females in the City of Starlight.

No one enjoyed your music more than Azriel's shadows, though. Nor did anyone enjoy you the way they did. How they knew you two were mates while he sat clueless and doting on Elain would never make sense to you, but the shadow turning your sheet music for you tonight was at least a small comfort, even if your family, mainly his master, was not here in their resevered High box seats.

You were exhausted when your arms lowered for the close of the show. You stood to the side, plastering a small faked smile on your graceful features as you held your arm to the orchestra, signaling for their bows before taking your own and leaving. You were the last one there, sharing thank yous and goodbyes as you musicians left. You chose to be alone for a while on the harp that sat in your sound room at the theater. You had a song in your mind, and you needed to let it speak before it left. Even if it was created from a place of raw emotion. It was near midnight when you finished, leaving the new composition to sit until you returned tomorrow.

You could hear the drunken laughter the second you walked into the old Riverhouse, the one you and Azriel made home as the mates of the Inner Circle began occupying the other houses, and signed as you removed your heels and picked them up into white tipped manicured nails. "Y/n!" Cassian's booming drunk voice slammed into you as he did. "Where have you been, baby?"

It was Nesta who gasped, looking at the clock on the wall before whispering a soft oh no as she saw your dress. Nesta who covered her mouth, eyes beginning to water as she shook her head and stared. Nesta who glared to Feyre.

"Why do you look so dolled up?" Rhys had a slight flush to his face, a wide smile as he took you in. "Hot date?"

You couldn't help but stare, shaking your head as your throat tightened. "You all seriously don't remember." Rhys knitted his brow thinking, and his face slowly fell.

"Y/n Darling, I am-"

You put your hand up to him before he could finish, shaking your head as the tears actually fell. "Save it. Spare me your lies and excuses." Cassian looked to Nesta and then Rhys, his own face falling next as he remembered.

"The symphony."

"Was beautiful, regardless of my support system deciding wine and board games were more important than the first live art performance in Velaris since our high lord was captured." Your voice was shaking as you looked up, avoiding Hazel eyes that were wide in shock as every single ounce of heart ache you felt hit him.

The bond finally snaps, his shadows hissed. We've been reminding you all day. And now you've hurt our mate. Ours. We went. Where were you?

"Maybe if you were actually good at writing music, we would have remembered." Mor's glass of wine hit the floor as your breath stilled. Rhys felt his hands fall from Feyre's lap as she audibly said Elain's name in an insulted tone. Amren was immediately held back by Varian. "Obviously, if the people who you claim you're so important to did not see making time to go a priority, we did not miss much."

Cassian heard your breath shutter. You stared to Azriel, waiting for him to come to your defense and not realizing his silence was due to shock from the bond and Elain's sudden cattiness. "Very well. I see I am no longer wanted, and I will not stay where I am not wanted," the whisper was all anyone could hear as you turned and walked away. The door shut behind you, and as if the Mother truly hated you, rain began falling softly, and you made your way back to the amphitheater.

Azriel had never shoved someone off his lap as quickly as he did Elain in that moment. But it was Rhysand who spoke, "How. Dare. You." The High lord went to stand, grabbing his jacket. "When your sister was dying, I sent her y/n's music. The mobile you play for our son every night, is y/n's music. The music that plays in Hewn City is y/n's music. She is an essential part of my circle, my family. How dare you tell her that her passion, her joy, and her career mean nothing to us."

Azriel backed away from Elain. "Your true colors disgust me, Elain Archeron." He studied her, truly studied her for the first time as the door slammed shut following Rhysand's exit. "That is my friend, my closest friend. You just hurt her like it was nothing. Cut her so deeply you will never be able to repair it."

"Well, if she mattered so much you all would have remembered."

Feyre spoke then, between heavy sobs, "I wrote down the wrong date. I wrong down tomorrow night for opening night. We were going to take her to dinner. It was supposed to be Nyx's first concert. This is my fault."

"Again, proof it didn't matter." Elain sipped her white wine as if Feyre had all but solidified her opinion.

"Get out," the growl from Azriel took everyone by surprise. "Get out of my home. You are no longer welcome here."

He was out the door, running to catch up to Rhysand in the rain, but missing the High Lord. He entered the amphitheater drenched and in silence, sitting next to where Rhysand was in the dark.

You were on stage playing violin as you always did when your heart was breaking. Every stroke of the strings had the bond growing tight before you dimmed it on your end, as if each movement of the bow, each note, was you whispering goodbye. "She told me she is leaving," Rhysand rubbed his face next to Azriel. It was then he saw the tears staining the perfect features of the High Lord. "She said this is my last performance before she leaves for Dawn."

"There's nothing we can do then?" Rhysand shook his head at the question before his head fell into his hands and his shoulders wrecked into sobs. "She's my mate."

"I know," Rhysand looked to the stars. "I've known for years. She never said anything, and now she never will. What little piece we had left is gone. Her light had been blown out by Elain's statements."

"Let me-"

"Just please stop talking and let me enjoy this."

It was the song he had sent Feyre under the mountain. A score that read of hope through pain.

And hope was all Azriel could hold on to as you stood and bowed, winnowing away as soon as you were finished.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects

[aemondfairy]

Renegade

summary: You discover one of Aemond’s biggest secrets and are reminded of the horrors of his past on a night out with your oldest brother, Aegon.

pairing: Implied Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of SA, Aegon is Aegon, mention of incest, angst.

note: This was meant to be a self indulgent drabble! lol, but if y’all like it maybe I can make a smutty part 2? Hehe … feedback is appreciated

With your thirteenth name day came great change. It was a grand celebration: A feast filled with music and dancing, various lords and ladies from throughout the seven kingdoms came to celebrate you and Aemond. Though it also meant you and Aemond being separated from one another. This year your mother had declared you would no longer share chambers. You had started your moonblood and Aemond was becoming a man; sharing a room would be deemed inappropriate. Aemond swore to you that he would come visit you each night.

You had spent the majority of your name day feast simply enjoying Aemond’s company. Nestled in one of the corners of the throne room, sharing lemon cake as you people watched. You tried to get Helaena to dance with you, but she was preoccupied; chasing a moth that had flown in through one of the widows. Your eldest brother, Aegon, was drowning in his cups, bothering any serving girl that came within twenty feet of him. In all truth, you were happy to just soak in the atmosphere with Aemond. Just the two of you, as it was meant to be, as it had always been. Your time with Aemond was interrupted by Ser Criston, asking for your hand in an innocent dance. After your mother’s sworn protector spun you around the room for a third time, you caught your balance. Your eyes locked with Aemond’s as Aegon dragged him from the throne room and into the night.

The hours dragged on as you sat in your new apartments. You anxiously awaited Aemond’s arrival, the last remaining piece of lemon cake and a small figurine of Vhagar you carved for him as a gift sat on your bedside table. When Aemond showed up at your door, the bright eyed boy you had seen just hours before was no longer there. His good eye was red and puffy and his stare was vacant. The cake and wooden dragon soon forgotten.

“What has Aegon done to you?”

Things had changed in the weeks since your father’s death, as well as the events that occurred above Storm’s End. Aemond had grown distant from you. Your time together grew scarce.

It was now a quiet afternoon in the keep when you overheard Aegon and his guards' future plans for the evening.

“You’re going to Flea Bottom tonight,” you say to your brother matter-of-factly, “I wish to accompany you.”

Aegon scoffs at you, furring his brow.

“What would Aemond think of this?”

“Aemond does not control me. He is barely ever around as of late,” you admit sheepishly.

Aegon’s eyes narrowed at this, a sly grin appearing on his face.

“Is that what this is about? Is our dear brother not giving you the attention you need?” He drawled as his fingers ghosted the underside of your breast before you swatted his hand away.

“No,” you lied, “I am simply bored.”

It was not a total lie, you were bored. It seemed as though all of your siblings had important roles to play while you were cast to the side. Forced to be imprisoned in the Red Keep until you were bargained off to marry some Lord for a political alliance.

You enthusiastically followed your brother through the winding streets of Flea Bottom as he led the way to a small tavern. The narrow, dirty streets were packed with all sorts of people; merchants and beggars alike, small children clinging to their mother’s skirts. You watched in amusement as stray cats darted around you.

The smell of ale, smoke, and sweat filled your nostrils as you stepped inside Aegon’s dingy tavern of choice. Clearly no place for a princess and far from what you were used to. You felt yourself naturally gravitate closer to your brother as you took in the appearance of the rough-looking patrons.

Aegon had announced your arrival, offering drinks as a pleasure from the crown. With that he heeded a warning: Any fool of a man who dare look at you the wrong way this evening may face the wrath of Aemond One Eye and a death by dragonfire.

As the hours went on and the wine flowed, you found you were having the time of your life. You drank and danced and sang. You had temporarily forgotten all of your troubles. The war that loomed over your family’s head, the loss of your nephew. You had wished Aemond was there to experience the fun with you. You hoped wherever he was, he was having fun as well. You silently thanked your brother for allowing you this small taste of freedom.

“Come on,” Aegon encouraged the young squire, “there is a madam here somewhere who is perfect for you,” he drawled. “I came here when I was your age, my brother as well…. This madam has a thing for the younger ones.”

You sobered up at Aegon’s words. He was taking the young boy to her. The woman who hurt Aemond. You were unable to protest as Aegon snaked his hand around your waist, pulling you close to him. You felt warmth in your bones as his fingers dug into your flesh.

“Come sister,” Aegon chirped, “this should be entertaining, but stay close to me.”

A curtain was pulled back and to your utter shock and dismay: Aemond was there, suckling at the breast of an older woman like a newborn babe.

You found it difficult to witness but even more difficult to look away. You continued to watch in bewilderment as Aemond tore himself away from the woman. Aegon erupted into a fit of laughter, practically falling over at the sight. You couldn’t blame him, a nervous laugh threatened to escape your own lips.

You managed to turn away, diverting your gaze to the squire boy who was looking on in horror. You covered his eyes with the palm of your hand, earning snickers from Aegon’s guards, you glared at them.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” you hear Aemond grumble to Aegon, clearly referring to you.

“Why would you bring her here?” Aemond questions, yet Aegon is still laughing.

You glance over and meet the gaze of the madam your twin brother sits beside. She studies your face, and a look of guilt is evident on hers. She is the woman from your thirteenth name day, no doubt, she has to be. You are unable to deny she is attractive. Her features are soft, welcoming, motherly. You can almost see her appeal. Suddenly you feel ill, and it is not the wine.

“Aegon! I would like to leave now!” You blurt out in a panic, unsure of where to look or how to even behave.

The king ignores you and instead stumbles onto the bed with Aemond. Taunting him, making crude jokes at his expense, mocking him. Barking like a damn dog.

Any positive thoughts you had about your eldest brother in the hours before were now gone. In an instant, it is as if you are all children again. Aemond is that defenseless little boy in the dragon pit. A mere plaything for Aegon and his cronies.

A never ending cycle, so it seemed.

“Aegon! You have said enough!” you scold him, he ignores you yet again.

If Aemond was embarrassed, he did not show it. You finally avert your gaze to his as he stands up abruptly, fully exposed. He is beautiful in this light. You wish everyone in the room could look at Aemond the way you did. You try and fail to look anywhere but below his waist.

“Your squire is welcome to her,” Aemond states coldly, his face emotionless, “any whore is as good as another.”

You find yourself wincing at his words in disbelief. Aemond was not one to ever disrespect a woman. Especially in the presence of others. In the presence of you. You watch the older woman’s face closely, she has the audacity to look betrayed. You wish you could feed her to your dragon. You are interrupted from your thoughts of her burning flesh when Aemond approaches you.

“Had your fun?” He asks through gritted teeth as he passes you, glaring over his shoulder when he does not receive an answer.

“Come now, we are leaving.”

Aegon snickers, now taking Aemond’s place next to the madam. He shoo’s you out of the room as he pats the bed, motioning for the young squire to sit.

“Would you look at that? A Targaryen princess, jealous of a common whore! Gods, our family is fucked up.”

“You are unlike anyone I have ever met,” you say to your brother. It isn’t a compliment. You want to cry.

“Must you ruin everything for everyone?”

“You’re welcome!” Is all he says as you dart out of the room and after your twin brother.

What Aegon seems to forget is Aemond is no longer that defenseless boy in the dragon pit. He is a man grown, with a vengeance and a thirst for blood. May the Gods take pity on you all.

[komsomolka]

No commentator on 7 October last year - myself included - would have predicted that the war would still be being fought with the utmost ferocity a year on. No one would have predicted a year ago that Israel would be fighting for longer than it did when it established its state in 1948. All wars Israel has fought since have been brief shows of absolute strength. [...]

Under Netanyahu’s right-wing government, the lives of the hostages were secondary to the aim of smashing Hamas. Had the hostages returned, Netanyahu could now be facing a long term in prison. But he has demonstrably failed to smash Hamas, hence the speed with which he has started a new war with Lebanon and Hezbollah. [...] Hamas re-emerges wherever Israeli troops are not. Plain clothes police officers emerge to settle disputes within a matter of hours.

At first, Israel tried to wipe out Hamas’s leadership. It has killed the first and second ranks of officials running the government, most of them in a massacre outside al-Shifa hospital.

But an insight into what is actually going on in Gaza was offered by Israel's latest announcement that it had killed three senior Hamas officials - Rawhi Mushtaha, the head of government and de facto prime minister; Sameh al-Siraj, who held the security portfolio on Hamas’s political bureau; and Sami Oudeh, commander of Hamas’s General Security Mechanism. The air strike happened three months ago, and no one had noticed their absence. This is because Hamas continued to function regardless of which leaders were alive or dead. [...]

Israel’s terror only begets more terror. The destruction of West Beirut in 1982 inspired Osama bin Laden’s attack on the Twin Towers in 2001. [...]

On 6 October, the Palestinian national cause was dead, if not buried. After more than 30 years of Oslo accords, Gaza was totally isolated. Its siege was permanent, and no one cared. Netanyahu claimed victory, in September 2023 waving a map at the UN in which the West Bank did not exist. There was only one item on the regional agenda and that was Saudi Arabia’s impending normalisation with Israel. [...]

Today, Hamas has changed the course of events, because the peaceful path to a viable Palestinian state was blocked. All talk of a peace process was a Potemkin-size mirage. Oslo not only failed to deliver a Palestinian state. It created the conditions for the Israeli state to expand and thrive as never before in the West Bank and Jerusalem. [...]

Regionally, the axis of resistance, which for much of the period since the Arab Spring, was a rhetorical device, has become a functioning military alliance. [...]

Palestine has returned to its rightful place, which is to occupy the key role in determining the stability of the region.

Israel’s brutal response to 7 October has reversed decades of Israeli and US efforts to convince Arabs that Palestine could no longer have a veto on Israeli-Arab relations. Today that veto is stronger than ever before. [...]

Of the two strategies, Sinwar’s seems to be working. Whether he lives or dies, that agenda already has an unstoppable momentum of its own. [...]

This war has stripped Israel of its liberal Zionist image, the image of the new kid on the block trying to defend itself in a “tough neighbourhood”. This has been replaced by the image of a regional ogre, a genocidal state, with no moral compass, using terror to survive. Such a state cannot live in peace with its neighbours. It crushes and dominates to survive.

Netanyahu’s war is short-term and tactical. Sinwar’s war is long-term. It is to make Israel realise it can never keep the lands it has occupied if it wants peace.

Netanyahu’s war is a year old and can only continue in the same way it started by meting out the same devastation to south Lebanon that Gaza received. It has no reverse gear. Sinwar’s war has only just started.

How Netanyahu stole defeat from the jaws of victory: Netanyahu's brutal response to 7 October has undone decades of increasingly successful efforts by Israel and the US to convince Arab governments to abandon the Palestinian national cause.

[wxstros]

Bonds Forged in Fire

In a world where dragons did not dance and Rhaenyra reigns unchallenged on the Iron Throne, her legacy endures through her three valiant sons, with the Targaryens having bowed to their rightful queen. You, a traveller in this medieval tapestry, have at last discovered the opportune moment to seek solace in Essos, intending to live out your days unburdened and free. No longer are you compelled to mend the fragile bonds among feuding cousins, having already nurtured a brotherhood among the Velaryon and Targaryen youths. Freed from the duty of attending to Alicent, appeasing your father Daemon, or strategizing for the benefit of the realm and its beloved Rhaenyra, you stand on the cusp of true retirement... or do you?

warnings: typical targcest/inc*st. DARK CHARACTERS; controlling behavior, manipulation, gaslighting. cursing. reader is a modern human. dance of the dragons did not happen. canon typical violence. yandere behavior!

pairings: hotd x reader, daemon targaryen x daughter!reader (platonic)

CHAPTER TWO: NO LONGER A FREE WOMAN

Quiet and Commanding. Graceful and Bloodthirsty — you were both the calmness of the sea and it's tempest. In a desperate act of survival, you reshaped the fate of Westeros; a no ordinary feat by all means, and you bore the scars of fabricating this delicate peace.

You sought to end a war before it grew to become one. Tearing the heart of the dragon so it no longer bore heads, you suffered the consequences of your meddling, self-preserving nature, from the curse of Targaryens.

Madness. Delusions. Paranoia..

Paranoia is ever common among people of power, and in your whimsical rendition of the present, you found yourself ensnared in the very web you sought to untangle.

Your knowledge of the succession of events was vital in its formative years; you were the weaver of histories yet unwritten, the keeper of secrets that shaped destinies. In the quiet chambers of the Red Keep, where whispers carried more weight than steel, you stood as a sentinel of wisdom amidst the unfolding of ambition and intrigue.

Once, you navigated the tapestry of Westerosi politics with a sure hand, guiding alliances and decisions that now lay woven into the fabric of a new era. But the future you once knew, predictable as the turning of seasons, now unfolded with unpredictable swiftness.

The absence of war reshaped the contours of power, leaving uncertainties where once there were certainties... and you had become one of it's unfortunate casualties.

"If I may speak, my lady," she began, her voice a whisper that hung in the air like the fragrance of roses in bloom. You turned to face her, your expression calm yet attentive, silently inviting her to share the secrets that threaded through the underbelly of courtly life. A strategically placed informant, a madame you kept in your good graces, for her valuable informations.

With practiced ease, you gestured for her to continue as you returned to your preparations, the delicate clink of jewelry punctuating the quiet conversation between you. The madame hesitated, her words measured and cautious, betraying the weight of the information she carried.

"I've come upon certain... revelations," she finally ventured, her tone laden with the gravity of her disclosure. She recounted, with a waver in her countenance, the princes' preferences— their specific demands echoing through the chambers like whispers of scandal. Each word revealed a world hidden behind closed doors, where fantasies intertwined with the obligations of royalty and it's stifling constraints.

Your hands paused momentarily, the silver earrings poised between your fingers as you absorbed the implications of her words. You feared the unspoken consequences of such desires. One that transcended the boundaries of rank and decorum, casting shadows upon the noble facade that adorned the princes in public.

"They call for you," she had confessed in a hushed tone, her eyes troubled yet resolute. "Not just any women, but those with your likeness. They cry out your name in the throes of passion, seeking to recreate a semblance of what they know in the sanctity of their chambers."

With a nod of dismissal, the madame withdrew, leaving the chamber with a bow of deference. Alone once more, you resumed your preparations, the morning light seeming dimmer now as you contemplated the delicate balance between power and discretion within the heart of the Red Keep. Yet, the madame's parting words lingered, her voice tinged with an urgency that unsettled you.

"Forgive me, if you must call me insolent." she had said, her eyes wide with concern, "Leave this place once you get the chance. These princes... they are not what they seem. Their love is a dangerous thing."

The weight of her warning wasn't missed, nor unrewarded. Leave, she said. And you almost wept at your desire to do so. The thought of escape had always been present, but now it seemed more pressing, more necessary.

The Targaryen madness... a curse that had plagued their bloodline for generations, was not a mere myth. It was a living, breathing beast that lurked within the halls of the keep, a beast that had ensnared even the most unsuspecting hearts.

The tales of their ancestors, the whispers of dragons and fire, echoed in your thoughts.

You had seen the cracks in their facades, the fleeting moments when the mask slipped, revealing the turmoil beneath. It was in the soft utterance, in a mad whisper of devotion.

with me, no harm shall come your way; rhaenyra, whispers.

i would kill anyone who tries to take you from me; daemon, vows.

you must always have me in your heart. it must have only me; aegon pleads.

It was devotion that threatened to consume you. It was in the quiet plea for acceptance. It was in the vulnerable displays, where the attachment grew into something you could no longer control.

never leave me; jacaerys utters with conviction.

tell me you need me; aemond, grips you.

tell me you love me; heleana whispers.

tell me you're mine...

The madness was not just in their blood; it was in their very souls, a consuming fire that threatened to engulf all who drew too close.

As you finished your preparations, you pondered your next step. To outmaneuver the most powerful people in the realm; to extricate yourself from their grasp, required more than just cunning. It required a keen understanding of the intricate dance of power and madness that played out within these walls.

As you stepped into the corridor, the weight of the madame's warning heavy upon your shoulders, you knew that your journey was far from over. The road ahead was treacherous, but with each step, you inched closer to the freedom that lay beyond the reach of the dragon's fire.

The small council was filled with nobles loyal to Rhaenyra's claim. People who were wise, honest, and unbearably scheming. Aemond was among the council, a concession to allow for unity and to placate those who supported his family. Yet, his presence was more than strategic; Aemond had always been smart and decisive, qualities that made him a valuable asset in matters of governance and warfare. His sharp mind and keen insights often cut through the labyrinth of political machinations, bringing clarity and resolution to complex issues.

Jacaerys, the crown prince, also held a seat on the council. As Rhaenyra's eldest son, it was imperative that he learn the intricacies of rule and the delicate balance of power within the realm. His participation was both an educational experience and a symbol of continuity, showing that the future of the realm was in capable hands. Though Aemond and Jace had a fraught history, they had reached a tenuous truce, understanding the necessity of cooperation for a shared cause. Their interactions were civil, even if not genuinely friendly, a testament to their shared commitment to the greater good.

Aegon, noticeably absent from the meeting, was occupied with securing an allegiance with a rich noble visiting. His transformation from a reckless youth to a responsible leader was a surprising deviation from the expected path, proving that even the most unlikely individuals could rise to the occasion when the realm demanded it.

Where there was once dignified discussions had unravelled into a heated one...

"A marriage allegiance, to the North?" Daemon repeats incredulously, a frown marring his features at the absurd suggestion from one of the lords in the small council.

The man, while relatively small in stature, held his stance despite receiving hostile glares from multiple pairs of scathing gazes. He was certain they wished to command his head off, but the loyalty to your cause remains in him. "The princess is of the right age to marry; it would strengthen our ties with the North and ensure their loyalty," the lord persisted.

Aemond tensed, repressing the urge to draw his sword and cut the insolent bastard's tongue for his brazen suggestion. His dear, sweet cousin, would not debase herself to a mere wolf when she had the blood of a dragon coursing through her veins!

Jace had a similar, quiet indignation. You would not marry to distant mountains, let alone to a foreign man. It was one thing to share your affections among their family, an entirely different one, should it be directed to another entirely.

Rhaenyra, at the head of the council, was first to voice her dissent, her expression calm yet resolute. "The realm is at peace. What need have we for an alliance with the North? We do not need to complicate matters with alliances that may bring more harm than good."

"Peace reigns now, the future is uncertain. Strengthening our ties with the North ensures stability in times of unforeseen turmoil. The marriage alliance is a precautionary measure, one that could safeguard the realm," the lord insisted, gathering murmurs of support around the table.

Daemon slammed his fist on the table, his voice booming. "We have dragons! We should be the ones feared, not groveling for alliances like beggars. The North should be seeking our favor, not the other way around. This talk of marriage is a distraction, a needless concession."

"We do not need to rally more support. Our house is strong enough without resorting to such measures," Jacareys adds, stoic though his eyes blazed with unspoken fury.

The defiance in the room was palpable, a wall of resistance against the idea of your marriage to a northerner, the famed Cregan Stark warden of the North.

Every time the notion of marriage was presented, they always had an excuse, a reason to dismiss it. Their hatred for the idea was unmistakable, rooted in their desire to keep you close, to maintain the unity of the family within the confines of King's Landing.

You never much bothered to disagree. Marriage was never your priority; you were trying to stave off the extinction of the Targaryens, where could you find the energy and time to please a husband?

However, this time, you decided to break the pattern.

"I agree," you said, your voice steady and calm. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to you in shock.

"You what?" Daemon's voice was low, dangerous, a silent threat hung in the air as if begging you to repeat your agreement.

"I admire Cregan Stark," you continued, ignoring the rising tension. "He is known to be handsome, domineering, strong, and capable. Such a match would be beneficial for our house."

And he lives in the desolate cold. Far from King's Landing. Come winter, and no dragon, however mighty, could cross its threshold.

Rhaenyra was speechless, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find words. Daemon's face turned a deeper shade of red, his anger barely contained. Aemond and Jace looked as though they were on the verge of losing their composure, their fists clenched tightly.

"You would leave for the North?" While emotionless and composed, Aemond was anything but.

"This is absurd. You can't possibly mean this," Jace added, his tone equally tense.

You met their gazes with unwavering resolve. "This alliance is strategic. It ensures the realm's continued prosperity and stability. It is a decision made for the greater good."

Daemon's expression darkened, his frustration palpable as he struggled to reconcile his paternal instincts with sound reason, and not violent tendencies. He thiught it much easier to wield a sword and conquer cities.

"Whoever wove these tales, planting fairy-tale notions of a prince charming into my daughter's head, is a deceiver. They think they can trick her, make her believe in an idyllic fantasy. My daughter is naive and innocent in their eyes, easy to sway. But I will find this manipulator and have his head for daring to poison her mind with such nonsense!" He uttered, voice laced with venom, a final threat to whoever disagreed with his judgement— Daemon thought you naive, and gullible to suggestion, believing it was not your own will, but a treacherous cunt's ideas.

Afterall, you would never desire to leave him; your poor father... and the rest, whoever they may be. He still has no idea which was whom; he kept a tally of one or two silver haired kid, and the rest were lost to him.

Rhaenyra took a deep breath, her composure returning as she placed a hand on the table, grounding herself.

"We must weigh all options, think of the ramifications. A marriage... it is not a decision to be taken lightly."

Despite her words, you knew her mind was already made up. She had always been fiercely protective, and the idea of you leaving King's Landing, leaving her side, was something she could not easily accept.

The path to freedom was fraught with peril, but you had come too far to falter now. Your nod to the Arryn lord, was subtle— indicating he back down from his duel of wits. It was an issue for another day. Rhaenyra had made it so.

With a determined breath, you resolved to tread carefully, to gather the strength and allies needed to break free from the chains that bound you.

The Targaryen curse was a formidable foe, but you were no stranger to battles fought in the shadows.

***

do comment if you want to get tagged! 💗☺️

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Haunting of Riverrun

fancast!bloody ben x widow!tully!reader

Summary: After the death of her childhood love Y/n is left broken. Her parents can take no more of her moping and invite the River Lords to ask for her hand. She never thought she would find such a love again in her life until he walks into her parents hall.

Warnings: 18+ mention of death, grieving, swearing(and i think the only swear word is in my authors note 💀), teasing, oral (f receiving), p in v

Authors Note: fuck if i know why i made her a widow??, guess i wanted some hurt comfort :), soft ben bc why not, this man is down bad fr

Word Count: 4.8k

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“You must remarry, I would prefer it to a house that’s close to ours, but above all I just want you to be happy, daughter. You’ve been haunting these halls after your husband’s death for too long.” my father’s words repeatedly slam into me.

“I didn’t know my bereavement had an expiration date.” I say exasperated, shaking my head at a loss.

“It’s been well over a year. War is coming for the crown and I’d like you to have the opportunity to choose your husband rather than being placed into an unhappy marriage pact for alliances and swords.” he looks to me from our house seat and my mother grabs onto his wrist supportively.

“We just wish to see your smile again.” my mother whispers to me with a soft smile.

“It sounds as if I don’t have a choice in the matter.” I shrug my shoulders, looking up at the ceiling to stop the tears that threaten to fall.

“I’ve summoned some of the unmarried Lords of the Riverlands and they’ll be here by the end of the week. Try to keep an open mind daughter.” my father looks to me and then comfortingly to my mother.

“I’ll see you for supper.” I murmur as I turn and leave the hall.

I sequester myself in my chambers for the rest of the night, even refusing to attend supper much to my parents displeasure. I know they mean well but how can I possibly think of remarrying when every time I go to sleep all I can think of is waking in the middle of the night to my husband’s dead body.

The maesters say it was overindulgence mixed with a poor heart. We were only married for one turn of the moon, but I knew him much longer than that. He was in every sense the gentleman and even waited to consummate our marriage not wanting to be presumptuous.

It was a very innocent and young love kind of marriage. I always thought my cheeks were going to split from how much he made me smile. He would whisper sweet nothings in my ear throughout court making my cheeks tint. At night he would cuddle in close and pepper kisses across my face before curling into me and drifting off to bed. I never expected it to end so quickly. So yes, I have been haunting the halls of Riverrun.

One of my maids knocks softly and enters with tea and a sleeping draft should I want it. She brushes through my hair and helps me prepare for bed. I slip under the covers and lay back ready for another fitful night of sleep.

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The rest of the week goes by in a blur as gowns are being fitted and hemmed in haste for the upcoming events. I’m to be paraded around like a prized mare ready for auction. My breath catches in my throat as one of the maids pulls my corset strings tightly.

“Might we loosen it? Even just a bit?” I say trying to calm my nerves.

“Yes, my Lady. I’m sorry.” she says as I breathe out a sigh of relief as I can fully inflate my lungs again.

I’m quickly brought down to the main hall where my mother and father are sitting in the house seat waiting for my arrival. A chair has been brought in for me to sit at their side on display. My mother’s smile spreads across her face as she takes in my new gown.

“You look lovely, Y/n.” my mother coos to me.

“Thank you, mother.” I take my seat without further word.

“Bring them in.” my father calls to his guards.

The doors groan open and in walk four men. I scoff at the first two men who enter as they seem to be older than my father. The two men that follow are finally closer to my age, if not the same age as me. They all stand in a line in front of my father looking to him except one who won’t tear his eyes from me. I look him over from head to toe and roll my eyes when I see the smirk ghosting on his lips.

“Y/n?” my father says getting my attention.

“Yes?” I ask absentmindedly taking in the frustration on my father’s face.

“I asked you to introduce yourself.” he says hushed as he narrows his eyes at me.

“Have they come here not knowing whose hand they’re vying for?” I asked with a clipped tone completely over this already.

“Y/n.” my mother hisses from my father’s side.

“Good morrow, my Lords.” I sigh and look to them. “I’m Lady Y/n Tully. Tell me who you are and what you can offer me.” I tilt my head looking to them all expectantly.

The one who can’t take his eyes off of me lets out a loud laugh as the other men look to me distraught. I raise my hand in motion for them to start telling me their names and houses so we can get this meeting over with. The three men look to my father and mother for help as they fall over their words and each other in the process.

“That’s enough,” I raise my hand with annoyance. “You.” I point to the one who is smiling at me and seems to find this entertaining.

“Me?” he raises his eyebrows as his smile never falters.

“Yes, tell me your name.” I purse my lips looking him over more in depth as he steps closer.

“Lord Benjicot Blackwood, my Lady.” he says his voice smooth like butter.

“And what can you offer me, Lord Benjicot?” I lean forward and raise an eyebrow studying him.

“Anything your heart desires. Say it and it shall be yours.” he says inclining his head to me.

“I’ll have him.” I turn to my father and take in his distressed state.

“My daughter, you still haven’t-“

“No matter,” I wave off my father’s words. “I’ll have Lord Benjicot or no one.” I say with finality.

“Y/n please,” my mother’s voice begging.

“Two of these Lords are older than father and the other is just as bumbling and stuttering as them. You’ve practically made the choice for me.” I blink at them, daring them to go against what they know is true.

“At least enter a courtship first.” my mother pleads.

“I thought you wanted me out of Riverrun so I could stop “haunting the halls” I think was the way you phrased it?” I tilt my head looking to my parents.

“We didn’t mean it like that.” my mother adds with soft, sad eyes.

“Enough, this discussion can wait.” my father stands from his seat, his face red with embarrassment for this conversation in front of his vassals.

“Agreed.” I stand with my father defiantly. “Lord Benjicot, would you like to go for a walk along the river?” I ask holding my arm out for him to grab.

“I would be honored, my Lady.” he smiles and grabs my arm as we exit the main hall.

As we walk out the main doors I can practically feel my parent’s eyes burning into us. What did they expect me to do, wed an old man? I turn to the Lord on my arm and see that he’s already studying me himself. He’s actually quite handsome and I can tell he knows it by the way he carries himself.

“Tell me of your home.” I request tearing my eyes from him to look at the river beside us.

“It’s one of the oldest standing castles, dating back to the first men. We have a massive weirwood that is home to hundreds of ravens, hence the name Raventree Hall. We’re close enough to the coast where if you stand in some of the towers you can see the bay. It’s not too far from Riverrun should you get homesick.” he studies my expression, looking unsure of what to say.

“Very well.” I hum as I lead us to an unoccupied bench. “You truly wish to wed me?” I turn to him as I take a seat.

“I would be honored to have your hand, my Lady. I do not wish to force you into this marriage, should you not want it.” he bites his lip looking almost nervous.

“I must wed again.” say barely audible turning my head back to the river. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Or that I wouldn’t want to wed you. It’s just only been a year since.. It doesn’t matter.” I shake my head wishing I bit my tongue. Of course he wouldn’t want to hear about my dead husband and he’s going to change his mind and-

“Tell me of your first love.” his voice as soft as mine as he interrupts my thoughts.

“What?” my head snaps to him. “Why?” my eyebrows furrow with confusion.

“I can tell you loved him dearly. If you don’t want to you don’t have to. I just wanted to offer a listening ear.” he fidgets with his hands looking at me nervously.

“He was,” I sigh trailing off. “He was very kind and sweet. We grew up together. A young blossoming love like the books tell..” I shake my head unable to continue.

“It’s okay.” he places his hand on mine in comfort. “You can tell me whenever you’re ready or want to. I’ll be here to listen.” he smiles softly to me.

“I shouldn’t be speaking of this to you, it’s uncomely.” my voice is wobbly as my glassy eyes look to him.

“Your feelings are no burden to me. You lost a great love.” his eyes full of promise and patience.

“My parents seem to think it’s excessive. So much so that they’re pushing me off onto someone else.” tears fall down my face and I wipe them away angrily.

“I- May I hug you?” he looks to me with pitiful eyes which would normally enrage me but I could use a genuine hug.

I turn to him and fold into his embrace. His arms wrap around me tightly, protectively. Feelings of safety and comfort wash over me as I melt into him. I cling to him as tears continue to pour down my face. Gods what am I thinking sobbing into him like this.

“I’m sorry.” I sniffle pulling back. “No, I’ve got tears all over your jacket.” my voice cracks as more tears fall as I try to wave my hand to dry off the stain.

“Hey,” he tries to get my attention away from the wet mark. “Y/n it’ll dry.” my name falls off of his tongue stilling me.

“I’m sorry.” I look to him with red cheeks.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” he smiles softly to me.

I scoot closer to him as we look on at the river in front of us. We sit in comfortable silence as he allows me to grieve. Once the sun starts to dip below the horizon he escorts me back to the castle and offers me a goodnight. For the first time in many moons I tuck into bed with hope for the future and sleep restfully.

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It took me all of a week to completely fall for Ben. My ribs hurt from the laughter he’s been able to pull from me daily. My parents look at us with happiness throughout the week and finally relent and accept my leave to go to his home for a fortnight before we wed.

As we approach Raventree Hall my breath escapes me looking on at the large gates painted with moss and life. As we enter through his men greet him happily and offer me warm smiles. He escorts me into his castle and I’m entranced by its architecture and detail.

“You have a beautiful home.” I hum looking around the hall. When I finally turn back to him he’s leaning against the door frame looking at me with a soft smile.

“It’ll be your home as well soon enough.” he pushes off the doorway and walks to me.

“You haven’t decided I’m too crazy for you?” I look up to him as he approaches.

“Not anymore than I am.” a smile pulls across his face as he grabs my hand leading me out of the hall.

He gives me a full tour of Raventree Hall that ends with us in the Godswood. I’m speechless at the massive weirwood that’s a home to all of these ravens. The tree itself stands taller than the entire castle making me crane my neck to see the entirety of it. Ben leads us out of the Godswood and into the castle where we share an intimate dinner alone.

“I must admit something.” he looks to me from across the table once the servants disappear.

“Which is?” I look at him with a raised eyebrow, my interest piqued.

“I first saw you when I was just a boy. We were all summoned to Riverrun for some event I no longer remember,” he trails off, his cheeks turning red. “But I’ll always remember you. You were wearing a billowy pink dress with flowers in your hair and you looked less than pleased to be surrounded by so many people. I thought you were so perfect but I couldn’t work up the nerve to speak to you. It has always been such a regret.” Ben’s eyes look to me as the memory appears in my mind of that scratchy, terrible dress they made me wear and I giggle.

“Was I your first crush, Lord Benjicot?” a wicked smile appears on my face as his cheeks turn a darker shade of red.

“You’re never going to let me live this down.” he groans covering his face, peeking at me through his fingers.

“Not anytime soon.” I hum as I pull his hands away from his face.

“Your parents say you’ve been haunting Riverrun, but you’ve been haunting my dreams for much longer.” he says intertwining our fingers looking to me.

“I’m sorry I’ve caused you so many years of restless sleep.” a smirk plays on my lips as I squeeze his hands.

“You’ll have plenty of restless nights coming up.” he winks at me causing my cheeks to catch on fire.

“Ben,” I gasp scandalously as he chuckles at me.

“I’ll never tire of my name on your tongue.” he smiles and leans back in his chair watching me.

We finish our dinner with palpable tension as we steal glances at one another. He escorts me to my chambers through the silent halls. The castle seems to already be asleep for the night as we linger, not quite ready to leave each other’s company.

“Let your guard know if you need anything. Although, my chambers are right down the hall if you need me.” he looks at me with low lids and a lazy smile.

“Then I’ll know which direction to begin my haunts during the hour of the wolf.” I smile up at him as he chuckles and shakes his head.

“I’ll make sure to leave my doors unlocked for you.” he winks, reaching behind me to open my chambers for me.

“I’ll see you in your dreams.” I whisper before whisking myself into my chambers and sealing myself behind the doors before he can see the extent of my blush.

I take in my chambers and smile at the warmth and new beginnings they carry. I begin to change into my night dress and retire to my bed. I figured it would feel weird sleeping in a home that’s not mine but all I feel is excitement for what the next fortnight will hold. I fall asleep with a smile etched on my face.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

The first week at Raventree Hall was full of innocent glances and hand holding but there seems to be a rise in tension between us in our last week before we wed. We constantly tease each other and seem to always be touching each other whether it be his hand on my back or mine on his arm.

I exit my chambers early this morning to explore the halls and yards on my own. I stop in the Godswood and look upon the ravens that fly about the grounds. I slowly make my way to the training yard to watch Ben work alongside his men. I haven’t had the courage to come down here and watch him but my curiosity is getting the better of me.

As I turn the corner I’m greeted with grunts and clashing swords. My eyes dart around the yard until they land on a shirtless Ben. Gods this is why I never came here to watch him because I know I look like a lovesick puppy. I claim a seat on the outskirts of the circle near Ben and silently watch him train.

He is a true leader to his men and is actively cares about their advancement. I sit with a smile painted across my face as I watch his muscles flex deliciously. His eyes finally land on me and his face lights up as he jogs over to me.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, Y/n.” he looks down at me with hungry eyes as I continue to lounge in my chair.

“Am I not allowed to look upon my betrothed?” I blink up to him innocently.

“Shall I remove more layers so you can look upon the rest of me.” he chuckles lowly as my cheeks inflame.

“Benjicot Blackwood.” I hiss as I quickly rise and cover his mouth with my hand. He chuckles into my hand and grabs my wrist to lower my hand.

“You get flustered so easily.” he says lowly, trailing his fingers up my arm causing me to shiver. “Do you enjoy watching me train?” he dips down to whisper in my ear to which I nod not trusting my voice.

His confidence is so exhilarating. I feel my blood thrum in his presence in anticipation for anything he does. I never thought I would feel the life brought back to me. He pulls back much to my quiet displeasure and looks at me with a serpentine smile.

“You can come and watch me whenever you please. I’ll have a chase brought out for you, I wouldn’t want you to get uncomfortable while you fantasize about me.” he teases as I roll my eyes and turn to walk away without another word.

“I’m sorry.” he breathes out as he turns me around to find a smile on my face and he sighs out in relief. “Mm, in that case do you want to share your fantasies with me?” this man is absolutely relentless.

“Maybe when we aren’t around so many eyes.” I shrug him off with a smirk of my own and continue to walk into the case.

As I continue inside the doors I hear his men laugh at him for scaring me away and I can’t help but chuckle myself. I don’t know how I’ll ever get used to his teasing and not turn into such a blushing mess. I’m quite excited to be wed to him because there’s never a dull moment.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

“My wife,” Ben whispers down to me softly before he captures my lips for the first time at our ceremony.

I feel as if my heart is going to burst out of my chest as I sigh into his mouth. He pulls me closer as my arms wrap around his back. I care not of the audience watching us as I allow myself to indulge in my husband. We pull apart and he offers me one more chaste kiss before we turn to the crowd with red cheeks.

I turn to my parents and see my mother all but sobbing and my father with watery eyes standing tall next to her. I chuckle at them as we descend from the alter. Ben twirls me around the open dance floor before bringing me back so we can share our first dance.

My body is buzzing with anticipation as Ben glues me to his body as we begin. I look up at him through my lashes as cups my face. He offers me a soft kiss as we continue to sway to the soft music.

The celebrations go on long into the night. Ben and I try to sneak off a handful of times but got lured into conversations as we tried to make our escape. As the crowd begins to slow we are quick to slip away and rush into the castle.

Ben’s hand grips mine as we run through the front doors trying to stifle our laughter so we don’t draw attention to us. He pulls me up the stairs after him silently. We come to a stop in front of his chambers both of our chests rising and falling rapidly.

“My chambers or yours?” he licks his lips looking down at me.

“I thought your chambers were mine now, husband?” I tilt my head with a smile.

His lips crash into mine causing me to squeak in surprise. He smiles into the kiss before pulling us inside our chambers. He pulls us apart and seals the chambers shut and turns to me with dark eyes. He stalks over to me and his hands pull my closer by my waist.

“This is a beautiful dress. May I take it off?” he whispers as he starts to kiss my neck. His hands trail to my back waiting at the strings for my word.

“Yes,” I breathe out as his fingers begin to unravel my dress. He pulls back to help me step out of it leaving me in my silk slip. He looks at me hungrily as his hands slide back to my waist. I bring trembling hands to his jacket and begin to unbutton it.

“Do I make you nervous?” I can tell he’s smirking without even looking at him. His hands go to mine to steady them before taking over and removing his jacket the rest of the way.

“Don’t tease me.” I pout as I begin to unbutton his shirt.

“So eager to see me shirtless again?” he chuckles as he pulls his shirt over his head quickly.

“I will make you sleep in the guest chambers.” my eyes narrow on him as I push his chest.

“Is that truly what you want?” he tilts his head smugly.

“No.” I cross my arms.

“Oh come here.” he relents and pulls me to him once more.

He dips down and encases my lips with his. He licks along the seam and I open my mouth and his tongue is immediately dancing with mine. I melt into his touch and gasp out in surprise as his hand travels to my thighs and they clench shut. He pulls back breathlessly and looks to me with low lids.

“Have you been touched before?” he asks without his teasing tone for once as his hands return to my waist.

“No.” I shake my head with burning cheeks.

“Would you like to be?” he asks softly.

“Yes,” I answer faster than I would’ve liked.

His lips find mine again as his hand finds its way between my thighs. I whimper into his mouth as his fingers trail through my wetness. He continues with one tortuous finger until he decides to swirl against my clit.

“Ben,” I cry into his mouth as my legs threaten to give out.

“Let’s go to the bed.” his voice laced with desire.

Once we make it to the bed he slowly lifts off my slip and helps me back on the bed. He begins to remove his pants as I gaze up at him with heavy eyes as I take in the rest of his body. My legs squeeze in anticipation looking at him on full display. We shameless drink in each other’s body admiring.

He climbs into bed and hovers above me for a moment before he fiercely kisses me once more. His hand makes its way back between my legs as his teeth nip at my bottom lip. His fingers begin to circle my clit once more causing a moan to tear through me.

“Does that feel good, Y/n?” he whispers before he attaches is mouth to my neck.

“Yes, Ben,” I whine as my legs begin to shake.

His fingers continue to slide through my wetness as his kisses begin to trail down my chest. I suck in a large breath as he takes my nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it. He leaves wet kisses across my chest as he makes his way to my other breast. His deft fingers find their way back to my clit as he offers this nipple a playful bite causing me to arch up into his mouth.

He chuckles lowly as he begins to kiss down my torso until he’s watching his hand pull pleasure from body. I moan out in frustration as his finger slips away from my clit once more. I whimper as his tongue begins to lap against my clit as my thighs start to clamp around his head. He chuckles into my core before holding my thighs open to lose himself in me.

“Ben, please,” my hips grind against his face as one of my hands fly to his hair.

A sob tears through me as I explode all over his tongue as he continues his assault. He pulls his mouth back but continues trailing his fingers down my sensitive center. He looks to me and watches me as my legs twitch when his fingers pass over my clit. As his finger slides down it circles my entrance and begins to dip in. My hips lift off the bed wanting more of his fingers as he groans looking at me.

“Gods you’re perfect.” his voice dripping with devotion as he slips his finger the rest of the way in.

He leans down and entangles us in a kiss as his finger begins to pump into me. He teases a second finger and I moan into his mouth as he pushes them both into me. He holds his forehead to mine as I pant while my hips begin to chase his fingers for more. His thumb makes its way to my clit as his begins to move his fingers faster.

“Yes, Ben please,” he groans at my words and kisses me hard.

His fingers begin to curl as he pushes them into me faster. I clench around his fingers as I let go once more, losing myself to all of the pleasure he offers me. He slowly removes his fingers and I whine into his mouth at the loss.

“I need to be in you.” he breathes deeply as he settles between my legs. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him down to me. “Someone’s impatient.” he chuckles against my lips.

“You can still go to the guest chambers.” I scold breathlessly as his length presses against my core.

“I wouldn’t dare leave my wife so needy.” he pecks my lips as he begins to line himself up at my entrance.

He watches my face as he slowly pushes into me. My eyes flutter shut as I feel the burn of his delicious stretch. My hips begin to rock against his and he grinds into me deeply. My hands fly to his back as his continues is slow moments as my nails dig in.

He begins to rock his hips slowly getting faster. Moans fall from my lips freely as his hips snap into mine. Our breathes become one as pleasure washes over us. His hips falter as cry out his name coming around him with tears in my eyes. His hips still as he fills me with my name on his lips.

He kisses me softly as he pulls out and lays next to me. I curl into his side as he smooths my hair. Ben pulls a blanket over us as my eyes get heavier.

“Shall I go to the guest chambers?” he chuckles lowly as I groan in annoyance.

“I should make you go out of spite.” I huff pulling him closer to me anyways.

He kisses my head once more as we slowly begin to drift off.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Masterlist

[sunshine-dies]

repost of earlier svsss AU minus the art because i was rudely flagged down smh

art is now available on twitter!

my train stop for the arbour discord event! a lovely little monster!Shen Yuan AU with some classic obsessive affection from both Shen Yuan and Binghe, classic! i gave it the title "PIDW Playthrough: Easy Mode"

in this au Shen Yuan actually transmigrates well before Binghe is born. he's supposed to transmigrate into Shen Qingqiu's body (hence some silmilarities in facial shapes, as much as Shen Yuan currently has discernible facial shapes) but Shen Qingqiu is still very much alive and kicking (and still a street urchin), so the System hits a wall with where to put him. this causes Shen Yuan's soul to "fester" in a way, and grow into a virus that then turns on the System.

yes, he eats the System. as a treat for all the system haters out there. this means that he successfully consumes everything the System contained, including the mandatory story structure and information on nearly every parameter of the PIDW world, among other things. the only issue is that this information takes a lot of time and effort to actually digest, and it puts him in a kind of coma, which means he wakes up approximately a year into Binghe's tutelage and abuse on Qing Jing Peak.

Shen Yuan wakes up as a creature that exists in the blank spaces of PIDW, in the shadows and beneath rocks and in the dark night sky. he also wakes up incredibly weak, with barely any power and in a body that is formless and so undefined that he has trouble interacting with the world around him. he has knowledge though, a lot of it, and he uses it to find his way to Qing Jing Peak and to the woodshed where Luo Binghe sleeps. their first encounter begins with Shen Yuan sneaking in through the gap beneath the door, tugging a small jar of medicine with him. Luo Binghe's body recognises his presence as something ancient and eldritch, even as his mind struggles to see what's so scary about a puddle of shadows with two bright blue, rectangular eyes. and so the saga of Shen Yuan living in Luo Binghe's shadows begins. Shen Yuan gathers his strength while following Luo Binghe around, giving him advice after advice, teaching him, helping him practise. for every punishment Shen Qingqiu doles out, Shen Yuan commits a petty crime or two, although Binghe insists that it's fine. he's loyal to Shen Yuan now, who seems happiest when he manages to help Luo Binghe, and who teaches him more and better than any other hallmaster.

Shen Yuan goes on all available side-quests, saving Liu Qingge in the Lingshi-caves and assisting Luo Binghe and Cang Qiong as a whole during the demonic invasion. he's pulled into the dreamscape Meng Mo builds for Luo Binghe, where Luo Binghe once again refuses to take Meng Mo as his Shizun. when the Immortal Alliance Conference rolls around, Shen Yuan helps Luo Binghe in his battle with the Black Moon Rhynoceros Python when his cradle seal breaks, but hesitates when Shen Qingqiu is about to push Luo Binghe into the Abyss. he ultimately lets him, if only so that Binghe will finally be free from Shen Qingqiu's abuse. they fall together, Shen Yuan cushioning Luo Binghe's landing, and then they search for Xin Mo together. with Shen Yuan's knowledge it's laughably easy, and they resurface in the Demon Realm a few months later, where Shen Yuan insists that they spend some time in seclusion so that Binghe can grow into his new body and his new sword (which Shen Yuan somehow bullies into being relatively docile. he's an omnipotent eldritch monster, he can totally do that. i don't make the rules). neither of them says anything about how nice this seclusion is, or how they kind of don't want to go back to society ever again.

demonic heritage and Xin Mo mastered, they go on a roadtrip to absolutely demolish Mobei Jun and every other Demon King/Demon Noble/etc. and gain power in the Demon Realm. Shen Yuan insists that they do so for the sake of reaching Luo Binghe's "bright, glorious fate" (minus the wives, which he bristles at the mere thought of. his sweet Binghe is too good for those shallow women!). Luo Binghe is not sure he cares enough so long as he gets to curl up among Shen Yuan's silky-soft, gentle tendrils every night and gets to hear him ramble on about this or that random monster they came across. one day, as he's cleaning Xin Mo at the edge of a bloodied battlefield with Shen Yuan at his back telling him what a good job he did, he says so. Shen Yuan is confused - doesn't Binghe want power and riches and revenge? but Luo Binghe tells him he doesn't really care at all, so long as Shen Yuan stays with him.

that's as far as i thought, so cue the obligatory Shen Yuan freak-out (can a mass of non-binary but male-identifying shadows be gay? maybe it's better not to put a label on it) aaaand yeah they totally get married. they probably get a small cottage in the middle of nowhere relatively close to a village and live a quiet, happy existence for the rest of their lives, occasionally interrupted by this or that demon or cultivator appearing to kill Luo Binghe the demon emperor and bring his head back as retribution for his or her ancestors (Binghe totally ditched his half-assembled empire for that monster D. he does not give a fuck). maybe they go on adventures together. Shen Yuan gets infinite chances to infodump, and Luo Binghe stares at him with heart eyes as he listens. win-win.

cut to Shang Qinghua frantically panicking about where the protaginst is. nothing gets resolved, but at least bingyuan are happy, i guess. maybe Shang Qinghua gathers his energy and helps Mobei Jun usurp the throne instead. or not. what do i know.

[mindmelter]

The Body Wearing Convention - Las Vegas

The BWA (Body Wearing Alliance) was formed 20 years ago when the internet was just starting to get popular. Those born with the rare ability of reducing people into wearable skins didn't knew there was more like them out there, but with the help of the internet they started to find others with the same ability, and soon it was created the BWC (Body Wearing Convention)

The Body Wearing Convention is a clandestine event that happens a few times every year, hidden from the prying eyes of the public, It is a secret event where they can gather, share stories, and find solace in the knowledge that they aren't alone in their power.

The BWC happens in a different country every time, for safety reasons, and the main two rules to participate in the convention is: To be a Skinwalker (That's how they call themselves) and to wear the body of a local from that place, that means you can't bring with yourself skins from home.

Currently the secret Alliance is made up of 130 men around the world. But among these 130 members, there are 10 men who are very close friends with each other, they all share one thing in common: They are all gay.

Surprisingly they are the only gay guys of the entire Alliance, while all the others sought power and money, these 10 friends only care about getting hard in a new sexy body, It was like a sport for them. That's why they created an online group chat, where they can talk and share pictures of their current bodies with each other.

The location of the BWC this time is: USA - Las Vegas.

The 10 friends all arrived individually at the city in an early Friday, the convention would occur during the weekend, so they had to find a new skin quickly, and so they went straight on a hunt for a random local body.

Think of the BWC as the Met Gala, but for people who can turn you into a wearable hollow fleshsuit in a blink. There was this unspoken competition among them, to see who was wearing the hottest or richest skin, and this group of friends clearly didn't care about the last one...

_______________________________________

Carl is a 46 years old married gay man, he is part of the BWA for 17 years, and there is nothing Carl love more than wearing the bodies of fit straight guys. His husband knows he's a skinwalker and is totally fine with it. But because his husband is not a skinwalker, he is not allowed to go to the conventions, so Carl always travels alone.

(Friday, March 1st. 8:19 AM) Carl Sent A Photo

Carl: I just turned this hot Latino stud in the hotel parking lot. He was walking towards his car while talking on the phone with his girlfriend. That's when I slowly walked behind him and turned him. What do you guys think? Do I wear him well?

Harold: You're looking so hot. You always pick the most hottest guys.

Elijah: Wow, you already found a body? That was fast.

Joel: He's not that impressive, I would give him a 6/10 lol

Elijah: Stop being a jerk Joel. This guy is clearly a 9/10

Carl: Don't mind him Elijah, he's just jealous of my pick.

Joel: He's not really my type, today I'm looking for a sexy tough looking guy to wear.

Peter: Hot choice of skin Carl! Show us his dick please!

Carl: You will have to wait until the Convention to see it. But i'm telling you, he's really big and thick, I know you're gonna love sucking it.

_______________________________________

David is 34 years old and he is part of the BWA for 13 years.

He first found out about his ability when his homophobic stepbrother was trying to beat him up, David closed his eyes and tried to protect his head, but when he opened his eyes, he saw his hot stepbrother lying on the floor completely deflated. David had the most fun years living the life of his douchebag of a stepbrother, until one day, his stepbrother just "disappeared"

(Friday, March 1st. 9:46 AM) David Sent A Photo:

David: I made two new bodysuits. I saw the handsome blond one at the hotel's pool, he was trying to seduce some girls by showing off his hot body, he just didn't knew he was actually seducing a skinwalker. To get him, I first had to convert this cute room service attendant, after I put him on, I got access to his room and walked inside. I think I'm going to use the attendant tonight for some fun.

Elijah: Oh, the good old room service method. It works every time.

David: It was you who taught me this method back in 2011 when I was still a new member of the BWA.

Damian: It brings back good memories from that one time where we all stayed at the same hotel in the 2011 Convention. Good times.

_______________________________________

Peter Is a 40 years old gay bottom who love to turn big hunky men into Bodysuits and act like a slut in their bodies. He is part of the Body Wearing Alliance for 9 years.

(Friday, March 1st. 11:28 AM) Peter Sent A Photo:

Peter: Do I look cute? This is Ramón, I turned him at an alley while he was jogging, he's a bodybuilder. I'm gonna make such a good use of his muscles. I'm sure you guys are going to love the muscles in his ass the most.

Joel: I love how you always pick the most biggest guys.

Daniel: I feel bad for this poor bastard, of all the Skinwalkers, he was picked by the most perverted one.

Peter: lol

Carl: He's huge. I'm going to enjoy burying my new thick latino dick in your bodybuilder's ass.

Harold: I really like his pecs. I want to suck on them when we meet tomorrow.

Peter: It's always the pecs for you isn't, Harold? lol

Harold: You're not lying. Actually I just saw this hot guy at the mall and he seems to have very big pecs. I'm going to follow him.

_______________________________________

Harold is a 28 years old scrawny gay man, he has no muscle definition, but he love pecs and it was what he first looked for in a body: Their huge pecs. If the guy didn't had two big meaty pecs, he wound't want them.

He went to the local LA mall to hunt for a body, he knew that the mall was always the perfect place for hunting skins. And he was proven just right when he saw this big and tall hunk walk inside a clothing store. Harold smirked as he entered the store and followed the man.

(Friday, March 1st. 1:05 PM) Harold Sent A Photo:

Harold: Who want some milk boys? Daddy got all the milkers now.

Peter: Oh my god, look at the size of these tits. I will let you suck on Ramón's tits if you let me suck yours.

Harold: This sounds like a good deal.

Carl: Very nice choice of skin! Good job, Harold.

Peter: Can you send a video of you playing with those hairy tits and pinching his nipples? Please?

(1:15 PM, Harold Sent A 20 Seconds Video To The Group Chat)

In the vídeo he was in the middle of the store, squeezing his new pair of meaty hairy pecs, he lifted one of them and let go, watching them bounce, then he pinched his left nipple and let out a deep loud moan. Without feeling any shame for being in a public space. It wasn't technically him who was being humiliated in public, so he didn't cared.

_______________________________________

Damian and Rashad are a black gay couple (47, 49) they have been together for 11 years and they both had met each other during a Body Wearing Convention back in 2013. It was very known to everyone that they only turned white men into Bodysuits, it was their favorite type of skins. So there was no diversity in their Bodysuit closet, only white men.

(Friday, March 1st. 3:07 PM) Damian Sent A Photo:

Damian: You guys know how Rashad and I love to hunt white boys, so what better place to find some white skins than at the LA beach? We saw this group of young frat boys surfing and we converted these two 19 years olds, they were just the most handsome ones in their group. Turns out they are twin brothers.

David: This is such a hot pair, and the fact they are brothers makes it even more hot!

Carl: I want to fuck the long haired one with my thick latino dick while I pull his hair.

Damian: I like this Idea. His long hair would be great to use as a handle for a hard fuck. I might even try It later tonight.

David: Send us a video if you do.

_______________________________________

Joel is the youngest one of the group, at only 19 he already has a count of 86 Bodysuits, and he's part of the Body Wearing Alliance for only 1 year. That's why, the BWA leader tasked Elijah, a veteran in the art of wearing bodies, to watch for Joel and not let the young man expose their secret society.

(Friday, March 1st. 5:14 PM) Joel Sent A Photo:

Joel: My new bodysuit is still deflating. I can't wait to finally wear him and show him to you guys. He's so hot.

Carl: You gave my bodysuit a 7/10, so he better be a 10/10.

Isaac: Wow he's packing.

Harold: When he deflate, please send us a pic of you in him. I want to see if his front looks as good as his back side.

(Friday, March 1st. 5:40 PM) Joel Sent A Photo:

Joel: I'm inside him now. I saw this sexy daddy at the hotel's bar. I waited for him to go to his room and then I followed him, as soon as he opened the door I converted him, right there at the door's entrance, I mean, of course he took a bit longer to deflate, so I had to drag him inside. I actually wanted to wear a scary looking soldier that I saw at the bar, but Elijah didn't let me. Still, I'm very glad with my pick.

Harold: Holly fuck!!!

Peter: He's a very sexy bodysuit. Wish I was there to give him a very special room service.

Carl: Where is Elijah by the way? Should he not be with you?

Joel: Elijah Is outside, I don't know where he went, but he said he was going to be back soon.

Carl: Did he picked a bodysuit already?

Joel: Yes he did, a young and hot fuckboy. Let me send a pic of him.

Joel Sent A Photo:

Joel: This is the body Elijah picked to wear at the convention tomorrow. I think he got this one at the hotel's bathroom maybe? I'm not sure. I hope he don't mind that I'm wearing his brand new skin.

Elijah: Boy, you're in big trouble!

Joel: Shit, I'm sorry, I thought you wouldn't mind. I'm gonna take him off.

Elijah: Don't you dare taking him off, I'm not going to wear him anymore, I found a better body to wear tomorrow. wait for me, I'm getting up there right now.

(Friday, March 1st. 6:22 PM) Elijah Sent A Photo:

Elijah: You don't want to disobey me in my new body, boy, so you better be on your knees when I get inside, I'm horny and this guy have big balls full of cum.

Joel: Yes sir!

Peter: Oh yes sir indeed!

Carl: lol you're fucked Joel.

_______________________________________

Isaac is a 24 years old gay man, and like everyone else in this group, he was addicted to wearing hunky men. He is more reserved and shy, and don't talk much in the group chat. However, he enjoys jerking off while viewing the photos his friends would send to the group chat.

He might be the most shy and reserved in the group, but once he's wearing a handsome hunk, he becomes a whole new different person, a more dominant and cocky one.

(Friday, March 1st. 8:37 PM) Isaac Sent A Photo:

Isaac: Seeing you guys wearing such hot bodies is getting me so freaking hard. I can't wait for tomorrow. I got this one at the gym's lockerroom. Who wants to take care of my boner?

Peter: I do! I want to get on my knees in Ramón's body and let you use his slutty mouth.

Harold: You're looking so damn hot, Isaac, good pick.

Carl: Was you working out? Your skin looks very sweaty.

Isaac: I was. I wanted to test out my new muscles.

Carl: Great. Can't wait for the convention tomorrow, where we can finally see each other's bodies in person and have the orgy of the year.

[bloodcasket]

“ EASY, BABY ”⋆ ﾟ☾

PAIRING: DI!Jill Valentine x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Pure NSFW (descriptive smut), Age gap centered!! (Death Island! Jill), Female described reader, Dom!Jill, Sub!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, reader described as more inexperienced than Jill (nothing too specified), innocence kink, fingering, finger sucking, tribbing, panty play, dirty talk, jill just loves to praise, teasing on Jill’s behalf, a lil bit of manhandling. LIGHTLY PROOF-READ!

WORD COUNT: 7.4K+

DESCRIPTION: The whole department and crew is out for celebration at a restaurant. As Jill sits amongst the table, she spots the new girl, young and timid, giving shy glimpses from across the table.

AUTHORS NOTE: SUPERR rusty after lack of writing for a couple of months now, really hoping this satisfies because Jilly bean doesn’t get enough fics written about her. Let me know if there’s any mistakes, please and thank you! (I’m so normal for her, i promise). Took me too long to finish, and i got lazy toward the end.

The last thing you wanted was to deal with any of the men sitting around you, feeling forced to pry out fake enjoyment and formulate fraudulent smiles at any of their cheesy comments.

They were all grown and lax, after all, middle-aged and experienced, their worries about leaving bad impressions left long ago after years of regulating bioterrorism. They just simply didnt care, and tonight was meant to be jubilant, after all. It was a way to congratulate the team for arriving back home in one piece. Clank glasses of iced bourbon and smile after the weeks of prolonged misery and uncertainty.

It had only been a few minutes that you sat, waiting at this table, the celebratory event making you feel like the black sheep.

A timid, young stranger, her shoulders hunched in discontent, and her expression nonchalant as she sat alongside the chairs of older individuals, ones who laughed and cheered, shook hands and grinned with their cheeks shaded crimson, wrinkles creasing around the shape of their eyes.

It was people who worked drastically to make the trip to Alcatraz bearable, and handled more experience within this field. Something you felt you lacked. Something you saw yourself unequal to, off putting. In other words, even undeserving.

Employment under “The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance” was nearing a few months now for you, but your line of work strayed far from any defensive units, due to your familiarity with the information management department. You organized required files and handled technological tasks under supervisors order, you weren’t genuinely handling firearms and terminating undead like the others were within the BSAA. You were simple, and did your part, participation with higher-ups was foreign.

The invitation to come here was optional, of course, but your ripe desire to see a certain woman was hard to swallow. After several days of trying to deny yourself this opportunity, the denial became fruitless, and you finally succumbed; which leads you to sitting at this lengthy dining room table, shuffling in discomfort and trying best to bite back any resurfacing regret.

It’s a restaurant, aromas conjoining in the air, certain scents collecting that it perplexes you. The whisks of alcohol burn through your nostril hairs—your lip twitches in discontent, jaw soon slacking as fragrances of broth and caramelized delicacies fog around you. You scrunch your face and twist your cute nose, huffing in the perfumes of delight.

It was all so overwhelming, and yet you had barely done anything yet sit and spend a few minutes skimming the menu—fiddling with your hands on the table when you yearned for a distraction. And yet; another server hurries past your seat, wide platters in hand, a trail of aromatics left in his wake. Drool draws upon your impatient tongue, you wondered how much longer it would take.

“Jill, didn’t think you’d make it”, a male voice chimes, you're able to single it out amongst the banter of the public place, trying best to listen as other residents at the table mumble out tipsy-tainted sentences, snortling and getting themselves comfortable as they slosh down fancy cocktails.

The timid position in which you kept yourself in the moment you sat down at this table seems to have been disoriented, a stiffness residing down the arch of your neck as you lift your head and adjust your eyes to your surroundings.

Dimly lit, and silken curtains are drawn over windows for the evening, you blink a few times to observe across the table, eyes stretching past messy cutlery, and halfway bubbling glasses. You blink again, throat moving slowly as you swallow dryly.

Under tinted yellow light, she sits. She’s shaking her head, exaggerating a huff of exhaustion as she edges her seat closer to the table. Brunette hair is silken and syrupy brown, a few strands askew from where she let the hair descend down her face and tickle the middle of her neck, the vision filling you with exhilaration.

‘Jill Valentine’, you suddenly think, watching as she’s easing herself more comfortably into the seat, shaded heels of her boots sliding forward as she pushes her legs apart, elbows jutting against the hickory surface that you oh-so-admired for several minutes straight. She’s hunched over improperly, wrapped up in a gray woolen cardigan, not caring much for table manners. A heat brewed low in the pit of your stomach.

“Had to finish my report, it was a pain in the ass”, her adjacent partner seems to love this reaction—being that he chuckles shortly afterward, “would prefer if you took it off my shoulders next time”.

“Your responsibility”, he replies nonchalantly, Chris Redfield from what you remember, a known operator within the BSAA. He was respected largely by his peers, a man with his time spent sacrificing and protecting, all for the benefit of “greater good”. You couldn’t say much about him, you couldn’t say much about anyone to be quite frank, except for one person. His partner in crime.

Needless to say, you scrounged through your closet for hours one night to pull out piles of clothes in desperate search to find something presentable for this woman. Bouncing your eyes back and forth over different varieties of garments, torturing yourself over the delusional manifestation that you’ll attract Jill Valentine tonight.

Intimidating. Most would plaster that description over her if it was all for first impressions. A 41 year old military woman who can carry her guns just as wonderfully as she can carry her foul language. She’s blunt, and by no means patient due to certain circumstances, but with the small moments she’s managed to pass alongside you, the tiny things don’t go unnoticed.

Coincidentally, you bump into her in the lobby; she’d chuckle jovially, waving one hand toward you dismissively as you ramble out apologetic gibberish. Reassuringly telling you “it’s not a problem, don’t worry about it”.

You’re heading toward a file room? She’ll catch you in the halls, velvet lips upturned into a gentle grin as she greets you with your name slipping off her tongue, blue eyes narrowed down at you in an observant manner. She remembers the little details, remembers you.

To say it was innocent appreciation was incorrect. It was an attraction, and the more your female superior managed to cross paths with you, the more you felt the warmth in your stomach churn and twist. It embarrassed you, to say the least. Jill Valentine was probably an individual with her priorities straight, and here you were, grinding your thighs together as you squirm uncomfortably in your seat, front teeth gnawing on the swell flesh of your bottom lip. You looked ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Ogling an older woman as if she were some high school crush. Where were your priorities?

Heaps of chestnut hair suddenly color your vision, blocking your delicate view as a head leans forward to inch closer to the woman you admire, “Here Jill, saved your drink until you got here”, her voice is flowery and feminine, a tinge of nasal sweetness at the end of her chirping sentences. “Glad to see you”. You almost envy her in this moment.

“Thanks, Claire”, a pale palm wraps around the transparent glass, pearls of condensation glistening on Jill’s lengthy fingertips, her nails clumsily trimmed, and beaten hands calloused from her work. You feel your breath hitch at the sight, cotton mouthed as you watch.

Tonight was going to be long. Too long, if this was all you were going to think about.

Claire retreats to her original position in the chair, her conversation with the brunette ephemeral as she focuses her attention on another, leaving Jill solemn in her thoughts, curtly nodding to every general word Chris might possibly say. She’s taciturn, and trained on the voice of her adjacent companion.

Without the veil of ember strands shrouding over the woman’s face, you melted in your seat, lethargic and ditzy as you bored your beady eyes into the vision that was just blissfully her.

One sip, then another. Her lips curl around the lip of the glass, swallowing measured amounts of golden whiskey that smell like smoke and peaty.

“We should all get together and go on vacation after all this, think we deserve that much”, Chris suggests this as he wedges his fork into the collops of filet spread along his plate, in which the other hums, her eyes flickering from the pit of her glass and then forward, peering across the table.

Rings of cerulean catch your nosiness, and you feel the organ within your rib cage falter, and then within seconds accelerate, heart racing like a jack rabbit inside your chest. She caught you staring.

She keeps the contact for a few seconds; you’re the one who widens your eyes and cowers into yourself, suddenly pretending that the entree platter of pillowy bread rolls is of much more interest.

You think you’ve gone crazy, due to the slanted, open mouthed smirk she summons on her face, mumbling a few words in reply to the male beside her (which you don’t catch due to how much blood is rushing to your face, head swarmed with internal comments of how utterly humiliated you feel). Nevertheless, the intrigue she displays is clearly prevalent, more so in the way your young face ducked to hide yourself other than the subtle conversation Chris clearly tried to create.

Just as you had foreseen, the night was indeed long and mundane, and your quick glances at the nonchalant beauty sitting opposite of you was practically dangerous, due to how cautious she seemed of her surroundings and every object that crossed her. A habit she carried in her occupation, you supposed. She was by no means incognizant. (It would be a lie if you didn’t at least give one glimpse, though. Maybe two��maybe three).

You can’t recall if it had been an hour or more, but the facade of enjoyment seemed to lose its potency, and perhaps for others as well.

Little by little, the crew took their leave, furred winter coats slung over the slope of their shoulders as they waved and headed out for the night, giving you some trivial excuse to join alongside them. With the bill paid generously in reward for everyone, the crowd migrated out through the exit doors and into the parking lot, the wisps of frosty air breezing past in copious amounts.

You trembled, nails dipped into the lower fabric of your mini dress, trying best to ease it further down your thighs as you cursed yourself for wearing such attire.

‘All that work just to stare at her like a fucking idiot’, and now here you were, with gritted teeth and trembling flesh as you shuffled down the sidewalk in shame, purse hung over your shoulder whilst you made your way home. That is, until the crackling of gravel wound up behind you, tires rolling over cement and bright beams flashing over you as if you were a deer in the headlights. An unfamiliar car slowly approaches beside you, and you stumble in your heels as you halt.

“You waitin’ on someone or something?”, the subdued hum of the engine had synthesized with the husky chuckle that was rightfully Jill’s, “don’t tell me you were actually gonna walk home in that? No jacket?”

An arm is laid firm across the surface of her car door, her head peering out through the window as she leans forward, her expression is practically incredulous. As if she was disappointed in your choice-making, and your lack of self-awareness for the weather and time of night. She thrums her fingers across the door impatiently, other hand gripping her steering wheel as she expects an answer.

“I was just-“, and here’s the flaring heat of humiliation rising once more. Your lips are molded into a solemn line, her glare of ridicule made you feel guilty for not asking for her aid in the first place. “I’m not too far from here- I wouldn’t want to be a bother”. You’re lying through your teeth, and the brunette scoffs as if she already knows.

“Fucking hell, you were actually going to do it? You’re too young to be doing stuff like that”, she jests in a low manner, muttering more so to herself than to you. Her arm slithers back inside the vehicle, head motioning to the empty passenger seat with a quick nod. “Like hell I’m letting you walk home, it’s not safe. I’ll give you a ride. Get in”.

The authority of her tone makes your knees wobbly, and the way she sits back in her seat with her neck craned against the headrest commands urgency. She’s waiting. You feel a lump harden in your throat. She’s waiting for you.

You hasten your little steps, sheepishly opening the car door and sliding inside, whispering with pruned lips how thankful you are for the ride. You’re stiff in the seat next to her, hands folded in the center of your lap; they were numbed from the cold, goosebumps embroidered along your delicate flesh.

“Don’t mention it”, she brushes off the innocent gratitude with a witty shake of her head, vehicle rolling through the asphalt, leaving the parking lot with just a planate flick of the wrist, elongated fingers dipping into the rubberized padding of the steering wheel. You watch from your peripheral, nostrils flaring as you shakily inhale, splashes of soap and freshly cleaned laundry breeze over you, and you relish in it, stomach all filled with butterflies over something as simple as the older woman’s scent.

“Where to, then?”, she inquires with a throaty hum, vision focused on the road ahead of her. She sighs in frustration when you tell her, though she grins in utter amusement, laughing when you deluge her with stuttering apologies over a mere lie.

“Christ. Thought you said you were close?”. She makes a turn, dirt crackling under the wheels as she pulls onto another street.

“I know, I’m sorry”, you mumble in shame, hands folding tighter and tighter until your knuckles jut against your skin, your face all flushed. Lower lining of the dress you wore was hiked up your thighs, you felt so exposed and scrutinized alongside her, in her car.

“It’s alright, don’t take me too seriously. New girl, right? I remember. Explains why you’re always so quiet”, Jill continues with the conversation, glimpsing over just for a second to study you before she’s focused again. “You enjoy the place? They had some nice drinks, don’t you think? It wasn’t all too bad”, you frown at her words, a heaviness nested in your chest. You hadn’t really done much tonight at the celebration. Nothing other than ogle at her, eat some bread rolls, and then ogle at her some more.

“I didn’t drink anything really, unfortunately”, admitting this was rather awkward, due to how much desire you held to impress her. Now you just felt inadequate, lackluster. “Too many people I didn’t know, if that makes any sense. I must sound boring, don’t I?”.

“Not even one drink?”, she questions, lips curved up into an open-mouthed grimace as she flutters her eyelashes in teasing surprise. “Free to get whatever you want, and you’re telling me you were too shy to even drink anything?”, and she sneers when you nod, biting down laughter in hopes she could keep you comfortable in her presence. Smile lines deepen around the shape of her mouth, silky lips blessed with a tint of coral, apples of her cheeks glowing with every beguilement grin.

“It doesn’t hurt to celebrate, you know. You work hard, I’ve noticed”, she pauses, considering her next words carefully, not wanting to tread any risky lines, “I’m not that far from my apartment anyway, want to have a drink or two? Think I’ve got some lying around, wouldn’t hurt to get em’ used up”.

Green light hanging up ahead switches rapidly from yellow to red, crimson hue painted over the dashboard and along the height of your body. You’ve sunken a little in the passenger seat, all wide-eyed and panicked when she offers. You open your mouth to answer, but she cuts you off before you could turn the opportunity down.

“Just the two of us, okay? I don’t bite, I promise”, and you swear you’re melting, too convinced. You nod in response, a simple “sure” is all you can hiccup.

‘Maybe all that time ripping apart my wardrobe was worth it?’

Maybe so, because Jill fucking Valentine is moving her lengthy index finger to the left of her steering wheel, flicking on her turn signal without a single ounce of hesitation, and then making a u-turn that can only promise one thing.

The ride to her apartment.

Agreeing was most definitely easier than doing, that was for certain. With the door opening, and her leading the way inside, not only then does it really solidify into reality. One of your leading superiors—a trained operations agent—has driven you back to her apartment to “share drinks” and “celebrate without all the other chatter”. At least that’s what she bargained for in the car.

You’ve politely found purchase on the faux leather cushion of her couch, material beige and smoothened, and you curl into it as you keenly gape around the place.

The condo is fresh, and crisp, organized and minimalistic, but still with a trace that’s so understandably miss valentine.

After hearing about rumors of Jill’s horror in raccoon city, you can almost bet she’s much more at ease now, with her new place, and her new position. Eager to distance from her solemn past.

She’s a workaholic, that’s for sure, multiple rooms in her living space and she’s dedicated one for her research; the door slightly agape, and you can’t help but satiate your curiosity as you squint your eyes and look past the doorknob.

With what little you can see through the crevice, there’s a desk inside with files strewn along the top, corkboard furnished along the wall and vital information pinned to it with colored thumbtacks. Not able to help yourself, a tender smile cracks on your lips as you notice irrelevant stickers plastered along the granulated cork, designs of cats and succulents the older woman has happily put everywhere. Your heart pangs at the innocent gesture, imagining such a stern individual indulging herself with such small and adorable items.

“Do you have a preference? Want anything in particular?”, said woman calls from the kitchen, face astern and a hand pushing the fridge door open. Hastily, you retreat your beady eyes, suddenly feeling impertinent for your sense of wonder. She lists off what she has, but it’s all foreign to you, not making much sense from your lack of alcohol expertise.

“I’m not sure”, you shrug sheepishly, a bashful grin displayed, “anything is fine, really”. ‘Anything that you pick, I’ll drink’, sounds more correct, but you digress.

She reads you like you’re an open book, your naivety and youth all too transparent and sat right on her couch, eyebrows furrowed and hands respectfully folded in your lap. A position she’s noticed you in ever since you were rigid and unsettled in her vehicle. When were you ever going to relax? It filled her with incomprehensible mirth, the way you were.

“You’re quite young, aren’t you?”, Jill teases a little, poking at the spots that make you internally weak as she flashes a knowing smirk, “don’t drink a lot I take it? That’s alright”.

She retrieves two glasses from her cupboard and fills them with her pick as you so kindly advocated, closing the fridge and then sauntering over. She takes her place beside you, the leather sinking from the weight of two, her thigh resting along the couch and the shape of her kneecap brushing against you.

“All yours. Bottoms up”, a throaty chuckle resounds in her throat as she offers the drink, ushering for you to take it into your small hands, in which you oblige with unreadable panic. “Cheers”, she clinks her glass with yours, before she’s reclining into the cushion and swallowing, throat muscles contracting up and down.

You only manage to gulp down a small portion of the beverage, soured reaction shriveling your lips. It wasn’t the most enjoyable, but it was Jill’s, and you found it as well sought after as any nobel prize. This drink, this couch, this moment. This moment with her, even if every lick of the bitter whiskey was deathly, you would still sacrifice every lumpy taste bud just for a second with the woman.

Slowly, she sets the drink down on the coffee table, and you watch her movements carefully. Those hands of hers guide the cardigan off her shoulder blades, shrugging the gray fabric down and onto an armrest with a composed exhale.

What torture it is, your foolish reverence for her. Dirty incalescence ferments between the swell of your thighs, burning and burning once you catch sight of the dip between her chest, cleavage freckled with age and brown moles dotted along her sharpened collarbone. Her tight little blue tank top hiding underneath that damned cardigan this whole time. The fabric is stressed across the seaming of her bust, creased and curled until it dips down and hugs around the frame of her waist. There’s no fucking way you’ll be able to make it through tonight without slipping up.

“You’re brave for working under the organization, no matter what you do. Reminds me of when I first started training, I was around your age too. It’s risky, but I’m sure you already know that”, she bends downward to unlace her coal-shaded boots, tugging the zipper down without an ounce of patience in her.

“You gettin’ along with everybody? How is everything, with the new position and all? I mean, the way you were acting earlier, it makes me worried. If anyone’s screwing with you-”.

“No no no, it’s not like that, I promise”, you cut her off, shaking your head quickly in hopes you could help her understand your viewpoint, in which she glances at you and sits upright. She got you to talk, and if she wasn’t absolutely smug about it.

“Everything is fine, and the department is kind to me. You’ve been very generous too, and I’m thankful. I’m just…still trying to get used to everything”, she bobs her head with acumen, digesting every syllable and stumble of your words, listening maturely. She finds flattery in your compliment toward her, doing best not to grin.

“How is it with, um…you and Chris?”, you ask, and the moment the question slips past your lips, you’re filled with utter regret. What kind of question was that? Valentine raises her eyebrow in bewilderment, shocked by the sudden change in subject. She draws her arm along the head of the couch, manspreading whilst she sits as she pleases, eyes still narrowed with pique and pointed in your general direction.

“Me and Chris?”, the laughter she bellows out is vocal, giggling deeply without much restraint, “we’re partners, is all. We’ve been in this field for a while now.”

The way she carries herself around you is as if she’s known you for years, like this is just some humorous conversation that fills her with interest. She wasn’t this excited to speak at the restaurant, you’ve noted, and it’s heartwarming. You, of all people, have made her soft.

Despite all the liquor she’s consumed tonight, she is still impressively sober, quick to catch on to all your soft spoken words, and averting eyes. Although, her high tolerance, of all things, is not a particular trait of hers that surprises you. It only aids the turmoil that rumbles in your chest; it makes you feel weighed down and heavy, the scent of luxurious usquebaugh lingering on her tongue after every breath she releases.

“I see”, you mumble, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Jill rolls her blue eyes, “you’re always apologizing, you have nothing to be sorry about”, the room falls silent, clock that’s hung on her wall ticking as seconds prolong into minutes. That is, until she speaks again.

“What about you? Got a boyfriend? Lay it on me”, and the room feels like it’s suddenly enclosing, the words strangely suffocating, and you refuse to admit your sheer infatuation you bore for her. You shake your head with silence, finding that your speechlessness was a better reply rather than your jumbled words of anxious gibberish. One slip up, and you knew it would be over.

Your fingers tease the constricting dress again, eyes exerting to the way your thighs expand and lay flat on her sofa. The way the material fits you like a glove was sweltering, especially with her obsidian pupils beating down on you, drinking up your every tentative counter.

“So that’s a no”, she snorts at your lack of volume, feeling filled with confidence. “You stare a lot, you know that? I noticed you looking at me all night. I don’t scare you, do I?.”

You shoot your attention toward her now, irises apprehensively rounded and wide, and you feel the world absolutely crumble as you're struck with distress over her admittance. She did notice, after all. How pathetic you must have looked the whole time, peering from the fucking entree platter to her every couple of minutes, so visibly envious whenever anyone uttered a single word to her.

“No, I”-

Your pale lips tremble as they open, an absinthal taste wrought over your tongue and depleting any moisture from your mouth. You try to answer, meek and destroyed from your own clumsy dilemma. How different this could have been, if only you weren’t so gullible when it came to your yearning, now leading yourself into chagrin as you couldn’t keep your eyes away earlier.

“I’m sorry”, you pipe out, “I didn’t mean to”-, and she’s engulfing you, brain all smothered into mush and your body liquidizing to putty under the embrace she ensnares you in. Countless nights you’ve spent imagining how every curve of her lips feels pressed along yours, how they move, how they taste, but absolutely nothing can put into words how beautiful they feel as they swallow up your squeaks of dismay.

She’s crawling forward until she’s got you all laid out underneath her, squirming in your position as you submit to the palm she lays on your chest, a firm push she gives until you’ve gone flat amongst the leather cushion. With her legs now entangled with yours, she’s content, humming into the kiss she’s so rightfully initiated, sharp nose dipping into the velvet skin of your face, and skimming along your cheek with every tilt of her head.

Challenged by inexperience, you try best to keep up with the opening and closing of her mouth she’s laying upon you, her eyes sealed as her lips seemingly can’t control themselves, a hunger you’ve never expected from Jill. Flavors of malt she's got melting from her tongue, intoxicated saliva that’s mixed with yours and creating a slippery concoction between your lips with every thirsting lick she provokes.

“Need some attention? Am I right?”, the brunette separates from the bliss she had solicited, lips detaching with a wet smack so she can inhale sharply. “I’m much older than you, much”-, she huffs, airily snickering at the sight behold just right beneath her, “much fucking older.” She drags the wriggling muscle out from between her teeth and over her lips, collecting the moisture and spit you had so generously lathered over her. To die like this, it would be divine.

You lay dormant and vulnerable to her control, but she had warned you. Her words were not to be taken lightly, but rather, considered. To give up your innocence for such a filthy, wretched moment like this, Jill knew better. But those eyes of yours had begged, pleaded, were filled with desperation. Whatever she had done, or would do, you wouldn’t lament over it—but rather—savor it.

“I know”, you speak up, balancing the shakiness that wracks you. You’ve wanted a moment like this with her, and you refused to let it slip away from the cracks of your fingers when she was so, so close to granting you everything you’ve wished. “I know you are.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Explains all the staring, that goddamn dress during winter for Christ’s sake, all on purpose, I take it, tryna get my attention”, the silver pendant of her necklace dangles above you, circling as if it’s meant to entrance you. “The hell am I going to do with you?.”

The authority that oozes off her foul tongue is like morphine, an opiate you’ve swallowed, it’s addictive and ruins your common sense completely. Innocent eyes flicker back and forth, your jaw now slack as you can’t focus between the heat swirling in her pupils, or the way her lips taunt you for another taste.

The delicate curve of her nose, like a deity the way she so naturally is, sculpted from the stars as you examine the dorsal bump that sits near the bridge between her eyes, and then arches down to her cupid's bow. You want to pepper kisses all over her, take a risk into her world, trace the fine lines that are embedded into her pale complexion. God, you wanted it, no matter how foolish you would become.

Not able to withstand another teasing comment, you bring your lips to hers with vehemence, your shaky hands drawn over the stretch of her back, nails bundling up fistfuls of blue cotton fervently and with lack of restraint.

“Easy, baby”, the older woman rasps out a discordant laugh as she eases apart from you, “I got it, sweetheart. Let’s take our time, no need to rush anything.”

But the way your fingers are threading up her spine, carding through the syrupy strands of her hair and burying the pads of your fingers into her darkened roots tell her everything. “Please”, you whisper, a whine of desire prolonging from your throat, “take me to bed.”

And who is she to deny such a request? Fallen at your feet from square one.

With groping hands and ragged breaths, Jill has led you to her room and shoved her calloused hands onto the square of your chest, watching you stumble your way backward until your knees wobble, feet losing balance and you surrender your footing. Now draped along her mattress, you’re sprawled amidst her disheveled sheets, unintentionally alluring at the edge of her bed. A present that needed to be unwrapped and reveled in. Undressed and ravaged.

Undoubtedly, the attraction was mutual. Too reticent to meet her eye, fledgling and modest you were, a stark contrast to the indecent and repugnant men that stuck around and partnered alongside Jill in multiple missions. She was abnormally engrossed in you, freshly employed, seeing a sliver of compassion in every beam you presented, how much you were blossoming compared to the others who groaned and wailed.

Of course, your age had been worrisome, and Jill felt guilt course within her at such salacious contemplations. But to have you laid out in this moment, so youthful, so precious, she knew it was alright. She was going to take such good care of you, that was certain, cherish you like no other. And from the way you propped your weight up onto your elbows to wait for her, in her bed—she knew you had waited a while for this too. The glimmering twinkle in your glossy eyes, an unspoken plea from the depths of your soul.

Jill pried your heels off your feet and threw the irrelevant shoes to the floor, long fingertips prodding along the protruding talus bone and further down to the curve of your calf, pulling your leg upward so she could chastely peck along the skin. Give you softness before she fucked you clueless, solicited vulnerable cries from that sweet mouth.

“God, you’re so perfect, sweet thing. Need you to be good and spread your legs for me”, she mumbles amongst unarticulated nibbles to your calf, two strong hands guiding your limbs apart with your permission. You comply, breath hitched in your throat, craning your neck back once she lowers a palm between your two thighs, index and middle finger circling into your sticky panties, meddling with the sodden gusset.

She grunts, your wet cunt fueling her ego. She knew it was worth examining how ruined you already were, but this quick? How precious.

“Fucking hell, you’re needy”, you flush viciously at her jesting observation, squirming so sensitively at the swirls and caresses of sensual friction, every plunge of her trimmed nails into the flimsy fabric were torturous. Panties are humid and tainted from your own very need, and you feel your body is just an ocean of desire, body overflowing with lecherous want.

You wantonly gripe and huff, dress now creased and hiked up to your navel as Jill holds you still and anchored, one hand clamped around your knee securely as the other is buried between your thighs, toying with you. Coaxing those gentle gasps out of you that make her heart swell, fill her with greedy pride.

“Just a couple of kisses, and your panties are already ruined”, she curls a finger into the band and drags the elastic up, the soiled undergarment loose and freed from your glistening labia, before Jill releases, the material slapping back down within mere seconds. Jolting and whimpering, you’re appalled from the igniting slap amongst your sensitive warmth, hips jittering and Jill flashes you a playful smile.

“Half my goddamn age and gettin’ all wet”, she tugs the panties up now, watching the cotton sink into the slick of your pussy, lips curled around the laced seam and cutely puffed out, glistening with your own pronounced arousal. “Pretty girl”, she muses, dark eyebrows creased and wrinkles of concentration forming along her forehead as she gawks at you coming apart, beseeching for mercy with little squeaks and airy sighs. She wonders when you’ll demand pleasure, but such a sweetheart you are, letting Jill have her way with you.

She’s too impatient for this little game, having enough of prolonging your reward of indescribable pleasure and ecstasy. She pushes the damp gusset to the side, a bridge of transparent slick breaking apart from the undergarment once she bares your cunt to her hungry eyes, lengthy fingers spreading your velvety lips apart, her mouth formulating into an impressed “o” at the vision.

“Jill”-, you pipe up with uncertainty, but she hushes you, another kiss she smothers to your calf. “I know”, she hums, “I know”. You feel all warm inside, sickened with endearment by the way she looks at you, clenching around thin air as you imagine how well she’ll fill you. You’re all hers tonight, she knows this.

A veil of brown tresses conceal half her face as she lowers her head to a calculated angle, sharp collarbone and shoulder blades pronounced once she bends closer to your clit. She collects tepid drool off the tip of her pink tongue, and hurls it down onto your turgescent pearl, watching her bubbling saliva sully your pretty little pussy and drip down to your pulsating hole, entrance begging to be split open as you clench once…then twice, and a third time. You shiver at the contrast of temperature, cool slick now warmed by the draw of her thermal spittle, and you attempt to keep your head up to watch with half-lidded eyes, desperate to see the woman you loved.

Despite her foul-mouthed tendency, and inclination for dirty talk, she was slow, and tender. Her hands were rough, marred from training and littered with blemishes and scarring. Though, she was so considerate the way she plopped her thumb along the swell of your clit, textured fingertips rubbing upward against the flesh, flicking the small, and hardened bud with precision that had you moaning brokenly into her pillows. Your nostrils flare, inhaling her musk that’s adorned the sheets, the scent enveloping you, in which you only moan louder.

“Yeah, feeling good, aren’t you. Like my fingers?”

“Mhm!”, you had no words to speak, clasping onto the bedding as she steadily draws circles of pleasure over your enlarging bud. She tests the waters, pointer finger nudging at your dripping entrance, and when you make no sound of denial, she buries herself inside, curling one finger into your cunt. She laughs flippantly as your body instinctively swallows her in, fleshy walls tightening and frenzied, clenching sporadically around her, and she adds another finger slowly, trying best to be careful with you; her precious girl.

“Jill- oh my god”, the sudden stretch of her fingers is surreal, sticky taint gushing from your weeping hole and defiling the pale, boney fingers that split you apart so remarkably, obscene sonorities that climb up the walls and ring into your ears. You were already soaked earlier after the push of her tongue along your teeth, a saturated flower between your shaking legs, luminous and gleaming after a rainfall of dominance the older woman harbored.

But the way she bullies her knuckles inside you, her spit sloven hands smearing her slobber all over your vulva—you've been undeniably ruined, sopping mess that’s smeared to the flesh of your inner thighs and down to the shape of your rear, and you sob.

“Can’t- can’t do it”, your body says otherwise, pleading for more, blood rich and adrenaline coursing through bluish veins like wildfire. Thrust after thrust, and push after push; transforming your mortal chassis into molten nothingness. You’ve surrendered willingly, fallen victim to a certain euphoria that wounds around you, ensnares you into a blanket of submission.

“You can”, Valentine coaxes, more of a demand than suggestion, inspecting you past her webbed eyelashes, “and you will.” Her two fingers are tight against one another, pummeling toward the spongy muscle inside you with a pump of her wrist, arm flexing as she opens you wide to her advantage, folds spread apart to her liking, flapping limply atop the tarnished knuckles that gets forced into your noisy pussy. You’re writhing desperately, an arm flailing down the arch of your stomach to catch her, and you’re teary eyed; two crystals gleaming and threatening fat tears.

You’ve begun to blubber riddles of nonsense, incoherent gasps that can only direct Jill toward one conclusion, and once your hips grind upward to meet the dry surface of her palm, she’s sucking her teeth. You’re close, she smirks in understanding.

“Hm!”, you shake your head, and what else can you say? Disheveled and torn away, once innocent and pure, now fragmented into a vision of a filth from the way you moan symphonies. Dress slithered up just below the cave of your ribs, and a trembling hand clamping down on the wrist that’s trapped between your lifted thighs, you’re the image of a prostitute.

Nonchalant from your intrusive hand desperate to stop her, Jill swats you away and flashes you an expression that reads ‘don’t do that again’, before she’s plunging once more, and your stomach lurches, hitched breath trapped within your esophagus.

“Listen to yourself”, she tantalizes, sultry remarks hissing from the gaps of her pearly whites, and you whimper delicately as you begin to lose yourself in the bliss. It’s only in that moment of fragility that you recognize what she finds so amusing, the squelching of your cunt, juices lewd and sloppy as they flow, and you’re clenching around the older woman’s joints within. Further and further, until the rope breaks, and you’re crumbling into oblivion, battered fingers ushering you into an orgasm of pristine heaven.

Her thumb lulls you from your sequencing spasms, rubbing your used little clit in tender circles as she marvels over such magnificence with blown pupils, still standing at the edge of the bed whilst she listens to the howls of elation that tumble from your cute lips. She’s got to stop herself from hounding you right now, control the erotic sparks that are boiling underneath the constriction of her pants. She did this, and if she didn’t feel so full of herself because of it. Thoroughly smitten with you.

“There you go”, she hushes you with rasping care, observing with worry as your soft hips remain twitching, “you okay?.”

She abandons the mess she made the moment she joins alongside you, crawling to fill the cold space amongst the bed, suckling marks of woo under the slant of your jaw once she’s beside you. Slender, protective arms are snared around your heaving figure, and you’re humming to reassure her, reaching to grasp onto the meat of her biceps for a sense of imploring comfort.

“You did good”, a husky murmur that rumbles from her, reverberates through you as she douses nurturing pecks along the crown of your swarming head, your brain filled with static and fuzz from such an experience. She thinks you’re finished for the night, wasted and frayed—the humble woman she was—figuring she’ll get you cleaned up and call it a night.

The conclusion is omitted, fortunately, from the moment your mouth falls agape, needy muscle thrashing inside and your libido pulsates. You lever her hand that was once caressing your waist, and bring it upon the seat of your bottom lip, peering past your nose at the wrinkled fingertips; pruned and soiled from the liquid you've drenched them in. Your release, glued and preserved amidst the pores of the brunette's skin.

A low sigh of approval erupts from Jill’s chest as you clean the cracks and crevices you’ve dirtied, your beady eyes now sealed tightly as you slurp on the digits hungrily.

“Can’t baby”, she drawls, cunt throbbing and irritated as it stays purchased amongst the seaming of her ripped jeans. “Might be too much for tonight.”

As if you’re adamant on her docility and compliance, you swirl your tongue over her nail beds, the addictive brewery of your cum, globs of spit, and her flesh had all become dewy and sloshed down the walls of your throat. You moan, bobbing your head until you sputter around her, and the two digits sit upon their tongue-like throne beside the swell of your tonsils, leaving you gagging stupidly by the sensations.

Fucks sake, she wants to pummel that honeyed mound into the sheets until you’re ripping her off, tear streaks racing down your cheekbones. You fucking asked for it? You’re gonna get it.

“Want you to feel good”, you gargle, batting your eyelashes, “please?”

Denial dawns heavily upon her for the second time tonight, the fear of mauling your body—her temple of worship—weighing heavy on her racing heart. But the stench of sex disarms her restraint, the prodding canines and writhing tongue deepthroating her fingers merely convincing her. “Wanna feel you”, you whimper, “wanna”- and there’s no more words that need to be said.

Constricting fabric and other layers of clothes are shredded apart within a matter of seconds, now askew and in disorganized piles amongst the older woman’s bedroom floor. She couldn’t care less, peeling off everything she, or you possibly owned, a chest of ample breasts swinging and soft, chocolate moles dotted from her collarbone to the curve of her rising tits. You feel them perk against your own, nipples coupled and stimulating one another. Her robust figure straddles your hips, strengthened thighs not allowing an escape as she wrestles her lips against yours, groaning in low carnality.

The night is crude, bawdy, and daring. Jill Valentine’s apartment molding into a pornographic masterpiece, with licentious kisses exchanged with swollen lips, and entwined legs that brush against one another. She’s slotted herself so perfectly against your cunt, raising her hips so she can grind her clit against yours, and it’s everything she’s wanted. Everything you've wanted. Hymns of pleasure conjoin, and she’s clamping your thighs as she meets you in the center, a sultry look through her hooded eyes. With nails digging crescents into your skin, she huffs out a hissing moan, string of curse words descending before she can communicate properly.

“So close babe, so fucking close”, Jill’s pelvis pushes upward, folds kissing one another and she connects with you like you’re both two puzzle pieces meant for one another. “Gotta wait for me baby, wait for me, okay?”. She’s already said that many times tonight, stilling her scissoring once she spots even a measly scrunch of enjoyment building up on your youthful features. Egging you on just to shatter any shroud of pleasure.

“Wanna fuck this sweet pussy all night”, she grunts, chuckling in mirth at your whines for release, beads of sweat drawn over her temples. “Be patient with me baby, be patient”. And she’s tugging the ropes again, leg drawn over yours as she rubs against you, over and fucking over again, until you’re a ruptured woman, humbled from your own begging.

[isawritesshit]

The Color Blue - Prologue

image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest

Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.

Warnings and Content: fem! reader, fluff, themes of forced/arranged marriage, hints of mental abuse, mentions of sex, mentions of menstrual cycle

Author's Note: As promised, the official start of my next Gojo series! Just for context, this is an AU of the JJK canon events (no KFC breakup, and as of now, no mention of Megumi). It is also inspired a little bit by my other Gojo series Someone. Other things I want to flag is that I do plan for there to be nsfw content in this series, as well as themes of physical and mental abuse. As of now, I am unsure how long this series will be. Updates will depend on my availability to write.

Word Count: ~2.4k

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People would say that if there was one thing that Gojo Satoru was not, it would be committed. Not in all ways, however. Satoru was very committed to his sorcery, to the protection of ordinary people and the balance of the their world and the jujutsu one. It was relationships that he struggled with. Yes, he had always had an authority problem, both growing up and even now, so his relationships with jujutsu elders and other clan leaders were never good to begin with, especially when he became a clan leader himself and took up the title as “The World’s Strongest Sorcerer”. However, his friends? He cared deeply for them, but he could never show them that, lest he risk the possibility of them getting hurt for that same reason. Lovers? Absolutely not. They would last a week at best, hence why his friends would say he had commitment issues. 

But, what many people did not know was that Satoru was betrothed to be married, and if there was one thing that he could say that he was committed to, it was that. 

And not just because he knew that the responsibility of upholding the Gojo Clan’s honor and survival was on his shoulders, but also for a reason that no one could have predicted. 

The first time Satoru had seen his future bride, they were both young, too young to understand why each of their parents were sitting across from one another, or why the most important members of the Kamo Clan were staring him down when he was barely even five years old. But when his parents asked to see you, that’s when everything changed. 

You were carried into the room by a caregiver and left in between the two families like you were some kind of meal. A veil-like mask covered the front of your face from the nose down, but Satoru could tell you were roughly his age. Your wide eyes looked about. First at your caregiver, who stepped out of the room with a bow, then to your parents, who didn’t even seem to notice you, then to his parents, and then finally to him, the only other child in the room. 

Gojo Satoru didn’t know it at the time, but it was at that moment that he had fallen in love with you. That same day, it was agreed upon that the two of you would wed when he was 25 and shortly after you turned 24. That seemed like such a long time, but… Satoru decided that maybe he would try to speak to you when he saw you next. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible. Both of your families kept each of you on a tight leash, and neither were inclined to meet with one another just because the Gojo heir wanted to see his bride. They were rival clans after all, with a long history of vendettas and alliances. 

However, just because Satoru saw you once didn’t mean that he stopped thinking of you. Even as a pre-teen, he sounded out your name in his head, sometimes aloud when he was alone. Kamo (Y/N). It was one of the few things he knew about you, other than what your eyes looked like. He knew that those eyes had likely changed over the years since the first time he saw you, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about them. About you. 

There were a few other things Satoru knew about you. You were the only daughter of Arao Kamo, the Kamo Clan head. Not only that, you were his youngest child and had three older brothers, all of whom Satoru had never met before. He would take in what his parents would tell him about you, though it wasn’t much; only that you had a different cursed technique from the blood manipulation that ran strong in the Kamo line, and that you were naturally beautiful for your age. 

But Satoru wanted to know more. He wanted to know what your interests were and if they were similar to his. He wanted to know more about your cursed technique and what kind of training you had received. He knew that you would receive some kinds of etiquette and liberal arts education, as was normal for daughters of the clans to do, but did you like any of those things? What foods do you like? How have you grown? 

What did the rest of your face look like? That was the question that replayed constantly in his head after Satoru was notified that him and his parents were to meet with your family again to make some further updates to the arrangement. Maybe this would be his chance for him to finally speak with you, to get to know you. 

But it was just the same as before. There was no caregiver to bring you in this time though, and no other Kamo representatives other than your mother and father, whom you sat beside. 

Satoru remembered staring at you the whole time, taking you in. His parents didn’t lie. You were beautiful and he hadn’t even seen all of you, and you also carried yourself maturely for a young girl. Your eyes had changed, of course, more grown but still just as wide and lively as he remembered. Your face was no longer obscured by a mask. Instead, you held a delicate fan that matched the kimono you wore, covering your face as you listened intently while your parents spoke, but never speaking yourself. 

You didn't look in his direction even once.

The meeting had concluded before he knew it had begun. His parents had needed confirmation of your fertility, since they were to be among the first to be notified when you started your cycle. However, in an offer that was a bit unexpected, your father had requested that the marriage date be moved up five years, to which his parents agreed. That part made Satoru ecstatic. Instead of waiting 12 years, he now would only have to wait seven. 

With that, you bowed and departed behind your parents, swift and silent. Satoru tried not to look like he was running as he tried to catch another glimpse at you when his parents excused him, but when he peered out the nearest window that overlooked the front lawn where you had arrived, you were already gone. 

And so, Satoru would go another seven years. Another seven years of thinking of you, dreaming of you, wondering what you looked like behind your fan and cosmetics. He had hoped to see you enrolled in the same class as him at Jujutsu Tech, though he knew for a fact that you most likely would not be. Your parents, more so your father, he realized, protected and sheltered you more than ever after that second meeting. He had expected you not to show up to that first day of school, but when that first day was over and you actually didn’t, a small part of his heart still sank. 

Satoru did take some females to bed during the next seven years you spent apart, mostly out of curiosity as to what sex felt like, but also by persuasion of his friends. However, his friends would get confused as to why he would never allow those girls to stay the next morning, or why he would insist on wearing a condom even when they gave him permission to finish inside. He would give the excuse (thought it really was the truth) that he actually wasn’t that interested, or that he also wanted to protect against STDs (the latter was a great insult that had women storming out on him, to his relief). In reality, he wanted his first real time, his first enjoyable time, to be with you. Even if he was allowed to take on any amounts of lovers he wanted both in marriage and out of it, he felt guilty knowing that you had to save yourself for him. So, in a way, he was saving himself for you too. 

As the years came closer and closer, he began to think of you more and tried to subtly gather more information on you, to little avail. He knew that this pining and longing could be considered childish, but he didn’t care. Was it wrong to want to come to love, to already be in love, with the person he was to spend the rest of his life and create a family with? Satoru certainly didn’t think so.

However, that didn’t mean he was without restraint. After his parents had passed and the mantle of the Gojo Clan leader was given to him, he didn’t try or demand to see you. After all, the two of you could still be considered strangers. Hell that is what you were, he had to remind himself. He figured it would be best to keep you with your family and not disturb your current life, especially since you would be seeing your family less once you came to live with him (but also because he didn’t want you to see him as some obsessed maniac). He decided he would be patient and wait, which would make your first real meeting with him all the more sweeter. 

Those seven years passed by too fast, he realized as he stood in the center of a magnificent shrine in what could have been the most spectacular and slightly uncomfortable outfit he had ever worn. Your family surrounded him on almost all sides as they awaited your arrival at sunset. Your parents and your brothers with their wives sat off to Satoru's right, and he could feel their eyes on him the entire hour that he stood there in a calm panic. After what seemed like an eternity, your headpiece peaked slowly over the hill as you ascended the path to the shrine. He held his breath. 

He noticed your eyes again first. 

They were downcast, melancholy, almost near lifeless. Not anywhere the lively pools of color he remembered and saw so often in his dreams. Your blank expression was such a contrast to the splendor of your being. Indeed, he thought that he was being pledged to a goddess, the way your updone hair and headpiece played in the golden sunlight, the way the whites, golds, and reds of your wedding kimono and wraps made you look like a princess, and the way your face, your whole face, looked like it had been extracted from a star.

To put simply, you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. 

Finally, you found your place beside him, your hands clasped in the folds of your long sleeves. It took you standing this close for Satoru to realize how much smaller you were than him, though he quickly discerned how much your face and demeanor had shaped into womanhood since he last saw you. He would catch glimpses of you when he could throughout the ceremony, taking in more of your features that you had laid out for him. The curves of your face, the shade and suppleness of your skin, delicateness of your hands... His heart was beating so rapidly, hoping that you would look back at him at least once. 

But you never did, even when you presented one another with ceremonial wine, or when you took his arm to leave the shrine for the reception dinner that was filled to the brim with Kamo Clan members and other officials. As soon as you both entered that reception, your fan was over your face. You didn’t say a word to him the whole time, so he never said anything to you. 

A cold sweat had laid itself over Satoru as you said goodbye to your family members. It wasn’t the type of goodbye that he would expect a family to give to their only daughter. There was no affection, no emotion shown, as if leaving your family was merely another ceremony. And then you turned back to him, eyes still looking down of course, and got into his car without a word. 

Satoru could tell that something was wrong and off about you. Sure, you had carried yourself gracefully throughout the entire evening. Every movement you had made between walking and eating and sitting was done to absolute perfection. Maybe it was those monotone movements that should have been his first sign. No, it wasn’t that. It had to have been your eyes. Why were they always so bleak? Why did you never look up at him or make eye contact with him or speak to him? What had happened to you since the last time he saw you?

At least your fan wasn’t up. That he could be thankful for. Satoru sighed. He couldn’t help but feel like the happiest day of his life, the one where he finally got to be with the girl he had loved for 15 years, was the saddest day of your own. He wanted to ask about it so bad, now that he had you alone, but he didn’t. He would just look at you every so often as you watched the Tokyo scenery pass by through the car window. Maybe this was your way of taking everything in, and he didn’t want to disrupt that. He trusted that you would talk when you were ready.

You remained silent as the car stopped and he walked you up the stairs to the front door of his home estate, one of the many under the Gojo name. Your new home. In a perfect world, in what he had imagined previously, you would have been smiling and excited as he picked you up to walk you through the doorway. In that world, you would have hugged and kissed him as he twirled you around and around in your own private celebration.

The door closing behind him brought him back to reality. You now stood in the center of his grand foyer, eyeing the dark polished wood and rich splendor of your new dwelling place. The space was only illuminated by shaded lamps and a dim glass chandelier above the grand staircase. A new couch, your couch, was against one wall, one of many of your belongings that had been moved in a week ago. Satoru decided to sit on that couch while you stood in the center of the room, looking down, not moving. 

Satoru couldn’t take this anymore. It was like you treated the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world. As if he, your new husband, wasn’t sitting ten feet away from you. He even considered the possibility of you being deaf or mute for a moment. No, he didn’t know what to do, other than speak to you. But what to say? Are you feeling okay? Are you happy? Sad? Were your clothes uncomfortable? How come you didn’t speak or look at him? At anyone? Was it something you were afraid of? Were you afraid of…

That had to be it. 

“Are you afraid of me?”

[shixcherie]

Who’s Gonna Tell Her ? | Kim Hongjoong ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆Day 24 : Virginity loss

↬ [ Synopsis ] : After a grand festival, a blissful night of Phoenix Kingdom’s rice wine, and sweet encounters with Prince Hongjoong, will you, the Dragon Princess, be able to resist him or will you surrender completely as he takes your innocence? Is this the end, or are wedding bells about to ring?

☆Word Count : 5.07k ☆Genre : Smut, Angst, a long plot, Historical Au. ☆Pairing : Prince! Hongjoong x Princess! F.Reader

☆☆☆WARNINGS : mdni!, Pure smut(18+), with some plot, Historical setting, pretty descriptive settings, virginity loss, neck kisses and bites, nipple play, fingering (fem recieving), unprotected sex (be responsible honey), both Hongjoong and y/n's kingdoms are close friends, mentions of alcohol, fluff at the end, romance.

NOTE : Day 24 is here for you as well. I am grinding hard to catch up because I was busy with exams so now I am working hard to finish this kinktober on time.

This story began when I was watching The Apothecary Diaries, so the setting is inspired by the show. A royal backdrop is new territory for me, so please forgive any mistakes as I try to immerse you in the Phoenix Kingdom and its grandeur.

Also, I’m officially declaring Ryujin as my best friend 😁🥺—she’ll be making an appearance as Y/N's bestie in every fic (fight me if you disagree)!

And one more note: I’m writing a virginity loss kink for the first time, so I aimed to portray it respectfully for both characters. Any rookie mistakes, feel free to enlighten me in DMs or comments!

"Y/n, who are you most excited to meet at this banquet ?" your twin brother Felix nudged as your carriage neared the Phoenix Kingdom. Your Dragon Kingdom, one of the Phoenix Kingdom's oldest allies, had maintained close ties for years and was always invited to the extravagant event the Firebird Kingdom held each year.

The Rising Fire Festival was a grand celebration hosted annually by Phoenix Emperor Seonghwa to commemorate a successful year. He invited friends and close acquaintances, including your brother, Emperor Bangchan.

“I’m excited to meet everyone, Felix. Why are you asking that specifically, though ?” You narrowed your eyes at your twin playfully. “I’m excited to see Prince Wooyoung and my best friend Princess Ryujin from the Tiger Kingdom, and also Princess Yeji from the Crane Kingdom as well. So, there are a lot of friends I’m looking forward to meeting.”

“What about Prince Hongjoong ? Aren’t you excited to see him ?” Felix teased, knowing about your tiny crush on the Phoenix prince.

“Oh, yeah! He’s going to be there as well, right… I’m looking forward to seeing him, too. It’s been a while.” you replied, trying to stay composed and not fall for Felix’s teasing, though your face betrayed you as a red blush crept up your cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah, sure… who are you kidding ?” Felix continued to tease. “Just don’t jump into his arms when you see him.”

As the redness on your cheeks intensified, you shot back, “Shut up, Felix. I hope Princess Lia ignores you the whole evening. That’ll be enough to punish you for teasing me.” you teased, reminding him of his fiancée, whom he was set to marry in a few months. Felix pouted at you.

You wished for the ride to end soon, eager to escape your irritating twin, while Hongjoong’s face crossed your mind, bringing a smile to your lips. You really couldn’t wait to see him.

The alliance between the Dragons and Phoenixes spanned decades, beginning when your father and Seonghwa’s father were close friends, sharing resources and enjoying hunts together. Seonghwa and Bangchan had continued the friendship, maintaining a close political bond and sharing resources.

The carriage finally came to a halt, pulling you from your thoughts as you looked out the small window and took in the grandeur of the Phoenix Kingdom. A footman helped you and Felix out of the carriage, and as your eyes sparkled at the breathtaking scene before you, you saw Felix mirroring your expression.

The “Rising Fire” festival of the Phoenix Kingdom glowed with splendor unlike any other. The palace grounds had been transformed, each corner adorned with golden lanterns and flowers in fiery hues, symbolizing the warmth and power of the Phoenix King, Emperor Seonghwa. This grand event gathered royals from allied kingdoms, each arriving to pay their respects and express gratitude to the ruler of the Phoenix Kingdom.

As you and your brothers entered the vast palace courtyard, you couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty surrounding you. Your elder brother, Emperor Bangchan, walked proudly in the center, his dignified presence impossible to ignore, while your twin brother Felix, on his other side, wore a sweet grin, his eyes darting around to take in the sights while also looking for his fiancée, Princess Lia. The royal guards, dressed in red and gold armor emblazoned with phoenixes, bowed deeply as your party approached, adding to the already festive atmosphere.

Inside, the grand banquet hall was bustling with nobles and royals, all dressed in their finest attire. Towering red pillars carved with phoenix motifs seemed to dance in the flickering candlelight, while golden banners embroidered with images of mythical creatures soaring through flames served as tributes to Seonghwa and the powerful lineage he represented.

Emperor Seonghwa shone like a true Phoenix in his richly embroidered attire, his captivating smile greeting everyone with warmth. You and your brothers went ahead to greet him, though your gaze drifted toward his younger brother, Prince Hongjoong, who was nearby, keeping a group of princesses entertained.

A tiny spark of jealousy glinted in your eyes as Felix noticed and snickered, drawing your attention back to what Seonghwa and your brother were discussing.

Hongjoong, dressed in deep red robes embroidered with gold and black phoenixes, was the picture of royal elegance. His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as he greeted each guest, an ease only years of practice could give. Girls whispered and giggled like admirers as he passed, casting flirtatious glances his way. While respected for his loyalty to the Phoenix Kingdom, Hongjoong had a reputation for enjoying the luxuries of royal life, including the attention of many his admirers.

When his gaze finally met yours, he politely excused himself and made his way toward you. Seeing him approach, you quickly excused yourself, grabbing Felix to head toward the food area where your other friends were. You needed Ryujin to hype you up before facing Hongjoong.

“Y/n! Over here!” Your best friend, Princess Ryujin, called from the drinks section. You spotted Wooyoung next to her, deep in conversation with Yeji and Lia, while stuffing his face with food. Typical Prince Woo. Felix’s eyes lit up as he spotted Lia in her beautiful attire, and with that, he left your side to greet her.

“Ryujin!” You hugged her, whispering, “Save me, please. Hongjoong is coming this way.” Ryujin chuckled at your cry for help but nodded, as you smoothed your dress, greeting Wooyoung and Yeji while anticipating Hongjoong’s arrival.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him greet your brother before heading toward your group, his strides confident and relaxed, a smile growing on his face as he approached. Greeting each of your friends, he finally turned to you. You exchanged a nervous look with Ryujin, who responded with a cheerful grin.

Hongjoong’s gaze lingered on you with a hint of something more than polite curiosity, his eyes sweeping over you appreciatively. "The Dragon Empire's beauty is not just in its landscapes, it seems. You look beautiful, Princess Y/n." he said with a smirk, letting his gaze drop to admire your attire. Your gown was a deep, shimmering emerald with golden accents featured intricate dragon embroidery symbolic of your empire, with scales that seemed to shine in the candlelight. "You wear your heritage with elegance, Princess. It suits you perfectly."

“Thank you, Prince Hongjoong,” you replied politely, bowing slightly to the young prince.

“I hope our celebration has been as enchanting as you expected, Princess,” he continued, his tone dropping slightly, just enough for you to notice. “The Phoenix Kingdom holds this celebration every year to remind us all of our alliances and shared prosperity.”

You met his eyes, feeling a thrilling spark. "It certainly lives up to its reputation," you replied, smiling. “The Phoenix Kingdom is beautiful, and the hospitality here is… unforgettable.”

“Then I am glad,” Hongjoong replied, his smile deepening. “Perhaps I can make it even more memorable for you, if you’ll allow me.”

Felix chuckled softly beside you, exchanging a knowing glance with Ryujin and the others.

“Perhaps our Dragon Princess would enjoy a dance. I heard you’re a great dancer, Prince Hongjoong,” Ryujin teased, her eyes flicking between you and Hongjoong as everyone awaited his response.

As musicians began to play an elegant melody, Hongjoong offered a cheerful, pearly smile and extended his hand. “Whatever the princess wishes, the princess shall have,” he said warmly. “Would you join me for a dance, Princess ?”

Accepting gracefully, you took his hand and stepped onto the dance floor, while your friends stepped back, leaving you and Hongjoong to the moment. The night air was thick with the scent of sandalwood incense and plum wine, the celebratory atmosphere almost intoxicating as you immeresed yourself in the beautiful moment.

Your heart skipped a beat as your bodies moved to the soft melody, your hand resting in his soft yet firm grasp. All eyes turned to watch as the two of you glided together. It felt as though every step brought you closer, both in movement and spirit.

The celebration continued around you, filled with laughter and joy, yet in that moment, it felt as if you and Hongjoong were the only two in the room. The flickering lanterns cast golden shadows across his face, highlighting his dark eyes and the slight smile playing on his lips.

Leaning in close, he murmured, “You may find that there’s much more to the Phoenix Kingdom than what meets the eye, Princess. It’s changed quite a bit since you and your friends last visited.”

You glanced up, warmth spreading within you. “I look forward to discovering everything it has to offer, Prince Hongjoong.”

“Perhaps we could all enjoy some quiet time in the gardens once the party ends. We could reminisce over a few drinks like old times. Do you remember when we used to play together in the gardens as kids ?”

“I do,” you replied, holding his gaze as a beautiful smile crossed your lips. “And I’d love a chance to wind down after all this excitement.”

As the night deepened, the celebrations spilled over into the cherry blossom gardens, where you, Felix, Hongjoong, Wooyoung, Ryujin, Lia, and Yeji found a cozy spot beneath the canopy of plum trees. The soft glow of the nearby lanterns cast a warm light over your small group as laughter and clinking cups filled the cool night air.

Hongjoong had brought out several bottles of the Phoenix Kingdom’s finest rice wine, smooth and sweet, and as each of you raised your cups in endless toasts to family, friendship, and adventures, the hours began to blur while the night enveloped you and your friends.

Felix was in rare form, laughing heartily as he exchanged stories with Wooyoung, who matched him drink for drink. Ryujin, Lia, and Yeji joined in on the fun, each sharing mischievous grins and occasionally teasing you, which made you all laugh even harder.

The conversation flowed easily, and so did the wine, the scent of which mingled with the night air. Inhibitions slipped away as the night wore on, and with Hongjoong’s shoulder brushing against yours every now and then, butterflies rumbled in your stomach too hard to ignore.

You lost track of how many times Prince Wooyoung and Felix refilled your cup. The night turned into a beautiful blend of laughter and music. It all felt like a dream with Hongjoong beside you, his hand resting on yours, fingers grazing over your knuckles. It sent a thrill through you, though you were too lightheaded to think clearly under the influence of the wine.

Everything started spinning around, and you wanted to lay down, so you attempted to stand up in order to leave for your room.

“Y/n, sis, sit down. You will fall.” Felix tried to stop you, dragging you by your hand to make you sit.

“I want to lay down, Lix.” you said, using the nickname you only employed when you were too tipsy. “I want to go to my chambers.” You started to leave when Hongjoong stood up as well, smoothing his outfit.

“Don’t worry, Prince Felix. I will show her to her chambers safely. I am feeling sober.” he assured your twin before taking your hand with one while his other hand held your waist.

When you finally stumbled back to your room, memories of the night floated through your mind in fragments, but one memory felt clear, too vivid to ignore. In it, Hongjoong was close, his touch warm and possessive, as if he were holding onto something that already belonged to him. The memory left you feeling breathless, heat still lingering as you drifted into a deep sleep.

The next morning, you awoke disoriented and drained, your head throbbing with ache, all thanks to the uncountable glasses of wine you had drunk. Something felt different, but you couldn’t put your finger on exactly what had happened. You rubbed your temples, trying to piece together the foggy memories of last night but miserably failed to do so.

As you slowly gathered yourself, a memory emerged in your mind with faint clarity. A dream that suddenly made you feel hot all over.

The dream of Hongjoong. A dream of his touch, his hot breath against your skin, the feeling of surrendering to him entirely. It had felt so real, the sensation still lingering as if it were more than just a dirty play of your imagination. Something felt lost, but you couldn’t figure out what while it ached all over your body.

But surely, it was just a dream... a wet dream at that… right… wasn’t it?

Pushing the thoughts away, you took a long bath and dressed up to join everyone for breakfast in the garden. Everyone else acted normally, and as you joined Felix and Bangchan at the table, you noticed how your brothers and the others exchanged careful glances. They wore pleasant smiles, but you could sense something unspoken between them, a cautiousness in their words around you.

Ryujin, usually one to joke with you about anything, seemed unusually silent and almost… reserved. It felt as if there was a secret flying around in the air, one that you weren’t aware of yet. Though you brushed it off as a drunk night of chaos, an unsettling feeling settled in your stomach.

Three more days passed, and the Phoenix Kingdom’s celebration continued in a grand crescendo, yet you couldn’t shake the sensation. Every day confirmed your doubt that everyone around you was hiding something.

You noticed the subtle glances Hongjoong gave you whenever you crossed paths, they were soft, with something deeper behind them...almost an apology. But he never approached you after that night, as if someone had put up a restraining order against him talking to you. He would excuse himself whenever you were in the vicinity, not sitting next to you while eating. His behavior had taken a 180, and all of this was hurting you while suspicion clouded your mind.

The others’ reactions only confirmed your suspicion that something had happened. Felix and Bangchan were more protective than usual, their attempts at behaving normally now filled with discomfort, as if they, too, were concealing a secret. The words they exchanged about you whenever someone talked about your marriage were extra cautious, stacking up with compliments and creating white lies about your skills and personality. Why were they doing this? You had no idea. But it did feel uncomfortable seeing your brothers act this way.

On the fifth evening of your visit, you wandered through the palace gardens, seeking some quiet alone time among the cherry blooms as you enjoyed the sunset, basking in its warm rays. The gardens had become your place of calm as your discomfort only grew from the unusual behavior of your friends and brothers. You let your mind drift over memories of that night.

And then, like a tidal wave crashing into you, the memories hit, sharp and extremely clear. Flashes of sensation returned: the warmth of Hongjoong’s hands against your skin, the intensity in his eyes, the feeling of giving yourself to him. Everything rushed back, overwhelming you with clarity.

It hadn’t been just a dream. You remembered now, each detail too vivid to deny as the truth sank in. That night, you had surrendered to him entirely, your virginity lost not in some wet and dirty dream but to the man who had held your hand as he returned you safely to your chambers, the man you had feelings for, which you had covered up as a simple crush in front of your brother Felix. You had lost your virginity to the man of your dreams.

~ the wild night ~

You stumbled, your balance wavering as you tried to navigate the dimly lit corridor. Hongjoong, partly sober himself, held you steady, guiding you to your chambers with a firm grip on your arm and waist. You felt a rush of warmth spread through you at his touch as you made your way back to your room, the air thick with the unspoken tension of the evening’s dance, light yet open moments, and his playful touches that almost pushed you to do something impulsive.

As you reached your chambers, a sudden surge of boldness overcame you. Without thinking, you pulled Hongjoong into a deep kiss. His surprise quickly turned into reciprocation, and before you knew it, he was pushing you gently back into the room, the door clicking shut behind you.

The moment the door clicked into place, an electric tension filled the air with unspoken desires. His eyes darkened, filled with a mix of surprise and hunger, as he pressed you against the cool wood. You could feel his warmth radiating against your body, every inch of you igniting under his touch.

As the kiss deepened, his hands tangled in your hair, holding you captive while his other hand slipped around your waist, pulling you closer. The world outside faded away, and all that remained was the taste of him—sweet, intoxicating, and utterly addictive. Your heart racing in sync with the wild pulse of the moment as each kiss ignited a fire within you, urging you to explore and surrender to the heat building between you.

He broke the kiss, breathless, and looked at you with a smirk. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for this ?” he murmured softly, brushing his lips along your jaw.

A smile tugged at your lips as you replied softly, “Maybe not as long as I have.”

His breath came in ragged gasps, and you could sense the same desire mirrored in his gaze and in his fiery urgency to have you right then and there.

The world outside faded away as the room began to fill with your soft moans as his lips traveled from yours to the soft skin of your neck. Each kiss sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that demanded more. The heat of the moment enveloped you both, and in a frenzy, you began to undress, fingers fumbling as clothes fell to the floor.

His hands moved hungrily over your body, exploring every curve as he peeled away the layers of your body. A low growl escaped his throat when he caught sight of your bare skin, his eyes darkening with desire. You felt bold, a rush of confidence coursing through you as you returned his passion with equal fire.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice rough with admiration.

You felt a flush creep up your cheeks, looking away for a moment before meeting his gaze. “You make me feel that way.”

With a tender yet urgent motion, Hongjoong lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bed. He set you down gently, but the intensity of his gaze held a promise of something much more. As he worshipped your body with his lips kissing a path down your chest, igniting a fire with each kiss. When he reached your nipples, his mouth took your soft breast, swirling and teasing, drawing soft moans from your lips. You could feel the heat radiating between you, his eyes dark with desire, mirroring the need that made your core ache while dripping and begging to be attended.

“You taste as good as you look,” he murmured against your skin, his eyes lifting to meet yours, sparking with heat.

Your breath caught as you replied, “Then don’t stop.”

Every flick of his tongue sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you gasped, arching your back instinctively, wanting more. Hongjoong’s hands explored your sides, fingers tracing the delicate curve of your waist as he savored every inch of you. The air was thick with tension, your breaths mingling as he reveled in the power he held over you, and you could see the raw hunger in his eyes. Each suck on your sensitive buds made you ache for him, a desperate need building down south.

When his mouth found its way lower to your dripping core, the sensations became even more overwhelming. His fingers slipped between your thighs, teasing and prepping your core as his tongue danced expertly between your folds. Each flick and swirl sent electric jolts of pleasure coursing through your body,pushing you closer to the edge with every sensual lick.

He pulled back just for a moment, smirking up at you. “You’re perfect, you know that?” he whispered, his words fueling the fire within you.

Flushed and breathless, you looked down at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Then don’t stop now.”

As he devoured you, his fingers plunged into your ass igniting a new wave of ecstasy. The combination of his warm mouth and skilled fingers moving intensely inside your asshole brought you closer to the brink, each thrust and swirl sending you spiraling into blissful oblivion. You whimpered beneath him, gasping for breath as waves of pleasure crashed over you, nobody had ever made you feel like this. Nothing ever had felt this good. The bliss that Hongjoong brought to you made you wonder in you are willing to loose your virginity to him.

The world around you began to blur, and all that existed was the electric connection between you and Hongjoong. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, he pulled back, his eyes dark with desire.

“I want you,” he murmured, his voice deep and gravelly as you nodded at him giving your approval. With that, he positioned himself at your entrance, his gaze locking onto yours. You felt a rush of vulnerability as he entered you, the realization hitting him that you were still a virgin. But the way you whimpered beneath him, your hands pulling him closer by the neck deeper into you, ignited a primal urge within him.

His signature smile remained as his eyes held yours, and you gripped his shoulders as his tip pushed through your walls, stretching you exquisitely as he finally bottomed out. He paused, letting you adjust to his length. You gasped, nodding for him to continue, and the way you begged beneath him, urging him to go deeper, drove him wild.

With your permission, Hongjoong began to move, each thrust slow but steady, reaching deep, hitting that perfect spot.. Your vision fogged up as stars shined while your body was consumed with pleasure as he drove into you, his pace intensifying, while his lips found yours again. With every thrust, he pushed you closer to the edge, and you could feel the climax building, waiting to erupt like a angry volcano.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered against your lips, his gaze filled with awe.

Hongjoong’s pace quickened, his thrusts growing deeper, each one hitting that just spot inside you.His lips pressed against yours, swallowing your gasps as the pressure built up fast, and each movement pushed you until you couldn’t hold back anymore. It was a blend of sweet agony and euphoric pleasure as he pounded into you with intense hunger and lust. You felt yourself losing your virginity to him, each thrust erasing any remnants of your innocence.

Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, fingers digging into him as the building tension finally snapped, as you melted around him, your body coming undone as waves of pleaure washed over you. You came hard around his cock , pleasure consuming you completely as you clenched around him, your body trembling in his arms. Hongjoong’s name slipped from your lips, mingling with the breathless moans he drew out of you, his hips never faltering as he rode you through the high.

The night became a blur of pleasure, each moment more intoxicating than the last. You were lost in a sea of sensation, your moans mingling with his deep groans as you surrendered completely to the wild passion of the night.

~ ~

You stumbled, catching yourself on a stone bench as the truth sank in. A mix of embarrassment, confusion, and something deeper washed over you. Now everything finally made sense—why everyone was behaving so cautiously around you. From your brothers to your best friend Ryujin, everyone.

Do they all know? Does Hongjoong remember the night? If so, why is he suddenly avoiding you? Do your brothers know? Is Emperor Seonghwa aware of it as well?

To be honest, you didn’t regret losing your virginity to Hongjoong, especially since you had dreamed of marrying him in the future. Given your kingdom’s close alliances, that possibility felt within reach. However, you couldn't shake the worry about what was running through Hongjoong’s mind.

“Y/N! Why are you here all alone?” Ryujin’s voice pulled you back to reality.

“Ryujin, I’ve done something terrible, something a princess should never indulge in,” you confessed, your heart racing. “I lost my virginity to Prince Hongjoong.”

“I know,” she replied softly, a hint of understanding in her eyes. “We all know, Y/N. The maid found you both in your chamber… naked.” Her hand gently caressed your back, offering comfort.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me? And why is Hongjoong avoiding me now? Does he regret that night?” You felt the weight of your confusion pressing down on you.

“We wanted to give you time to process everything. Emperor Seonghwa instructed Hongjoong to keep his distance until you remembered the night, so he wouldn’t risk hurting you. Plus, he wanted to protect the decade-long friendship with your brother,” she explained.

Suddenly, everything began to click into place.

With that information, you dashed through the corridors, your heart racing as you made your way to Felix's room. Throwing open the door, you found Emperor Seonghwa, Bangchan, Felix, your mom, and dad all deep in discussion. The atmosphere shifted as they turned to you, surprise washing over their faces.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Felix asked, concern knitting his brows together as he stood up to reach you.

You hesitated, the weight of your revelation heavy on your chest. “I, um… I need to tell you something important,” you stammered, your voice shaking. “I… I might have… lost my virginity to Prince Hongjoong.”

A profound silence enveloped the room, your confession hanging in the air. To your astonishment, they exchanged knowing glances before Seonghwa spoke.

“We already knew,” Seonghwa said gently, a hint of warmth in his eyes. “And we support you both. My brother wants to marry you, Princess Y/N.”

“What?” you gasped, your heart racing. “But… why? Is it out of pity? I don’t want him to feel obligated.”

Bangchan stepped forward, his expression earnest. “It’s not pity, Y/N. He genuinely cares for you. We all believe he’s serious about his feelings.”

Your mother chimed in, her voice soft yet reassuring. “This isn’t just a whim for him. Hongjoong sees a future with you, and he’s willing to stand by you through everything.”

“But what if it’s just because of the situation? I don’t want to be a burden.” you replied, uncertainty swirling inside.

“Y/N,” Felix said, his voice steady, “Hongjoong is a man of honor. He wouldn’t propose if he didn’t truly love you. Trust in that.”

“I second that, Princess. I wouldn’t have entertained this matter if my brother hadn’t specifically requested it. He does see a future with you as part of it, and we would love the Dragon Princess to become a part of the Phoenix family.” Seonghwa assured you with a warm smile.

You looked around the room, seeing the sincerity in their faces. The weight of your fears began to lift, replaced by a flicker of hope. “So...you all approve?”

“Absolutely,” your dad said with a nod. “We want you to be happy, and if Hongjoong makes you happy, then that’s all that matters.”

Bangchan stepped forward, his expression serious. “Y/n, you need to meet him. He’s waiting for you in the cherry blossom garden. He has something important to say.”

You hesitated not fully sure if this was out of pity or he genuinely felt something for you.

After a moment of contemplation, you nodded and rushed outside. The cherry blossoms danced in the gentle breeze, their petals swirling around you as you approached the standing figure. Hongjoong stood under the trees, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and determination.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice soft yet steady. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Prince Hongjoong, before you say anything.If you want to marry me out of pity to save me from embarrassment, then I don’t want it!” You spoke with sureity, you loved him, but didn’t want to burden him with your responsibility.

“I would never Princess. You are not a burden to me. Infact, the exact opposite. You are a responsibility I’d happily bear. For the rest of my life." his hand carassed your hair, hoping to provide some assurance. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper, unfolding it delicately. “I wrote something for you.”

With a deep breath, he recited the haiku he has written for you :

Under starlit skies,

My soul finds its home in you,

Unending, pure, true.

You felt warmth spread through your chest as his words wrapped around you, erasing the doubts clouding your mind. His gaze locked onto yours, the sincerity in his eyes unmistakable.

He stepped closer, taking your hands gently. “Y/N, look at me,” he said, his voice steady and gaze intense. “I would never propose out of pity. You’ve captivated me in a way no one else ever has. What we shared was real, and I want to honor that. I see a life with you and its not out of duty, but because I truly love you. So, will you marry me?”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his confession touched the depths of your heart. The fear of embarrassment faded, replaced by the overwhelming realization of his love for you.

“Yes,” you whispered, heart swelling with love. “I accept your marriage proposal, Hongjoong.”

A radiant smile spread across his face as he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you while cherry blossoms swirled around, creating a perfect backdrop for your future.

In that moment, beneath the blooming cherry blossoms, your destinies intertwined, sealing your love with a promise of forever.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

Disclaimer : This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

Tag List : @star-my | @pixie0627 | @astuteataraxy

[gffa]

STAR WARS PREQUELS - A TIMELINE

So, what's this about, huh? After recently sitting down with Star Wars Timelines, I was genuinely surprised at just how much they were willing to nail down to a specific year and sequence of events, which admittedly is a reference book and those are pretty low on the canon totem pole so be prepared for future retcons down the road, but it's shockingly useful information to have! Because the more I paged through it, the more I realized just how useful it would be for fic writers, especially for anything that might be referenced by a prequels character. Do you want to know how old the Jedi Order basically is? What the eras were called, if a prequels character wanted to reference them? What year did Dooku leave the Jedi? When did Naboo join the Republic? When was the Republic founded? When was the Jedi Temple built? When was Yaddle born? When did the Togruta ally with the Republic? Was Anakin born on Tatooine? When did Plo discover Ahsoka? When did Anakin get his first kyber crystal? When did Obi-Wan join the Jedi Council? WHEN DOES THE MANDALORIAN CIVIL WAR TAKE PLACE?? Some of this is SO INTERESTING to have nailed down into place--like just how old Huyang is or that the Jedi Temple was constructed on Coruscant BEFORE the Republic existed! Useful for me to know, but also my prequels-era characters to know! This book is willing to tell us A LOT and I collated everything I thought would be useful for a prequels character to know! ERAS:

c.5,000 BBY– 1,032 BBY: Ancient conflicts "The Jedi and Sith wage a series of wars throughout their history so ruinous that at points each is brought to the brink of destruction."

c.500 BBY–330 BBY: "The Age of Exploration" "After centuries of governing in regions near the galactic Core, the Republic sets out to explore the Outer Rim. This era of exploration on the frontier presents many adventures and opportunities for the Republic and the Jedi Order alike, but growth also leads them to uncover new mysteries and dangers. Soon the Jedi Order’s very connection to the Force is put to the test."

c.500 BBY–100 BBY: "The High Republic" The four hundred years that are collectively referred to as the High Republic era.

TIMELINE:

c.25,025 BBY: BIRTH OF THE JEDI

"The Jedi Order is founded. Among the earliest locations, and likely the first, is a temple constructed on the planet of Ahch-To. Later, the temple retains the most treasured Jedi texts and earliest writings on the Order’s faith. For eons, these noble protectors stand united by their ability to harness the power of the Force itself for good."

c.25,020 BBY: Professor Huyang powered up "The architect droid Professor Huyang begins training Jedi younglings in the delicate art of lightsaber construction."

c.20,000 BBY: Dawn of the Republic

"The foundation of the Republic is formed through an alliance including Coruscant, Corellia, and Alderaan, prompted by the dawn of hyperspace travel."

c.5,000 BBY: Creeping darkness

"A dark-side sect splinters from the Jedi, causing the formation of the Sith. This fracture is the genesis of a millennia-long rivalry."

c.5,000 BBY–1,032 BBY: "The Sith battle the Jedi in numerous conflicts for thousands of years before their struggle comes to an end, resulting in the destruction of the Sith Empire."

c.5,000 BBY–1,032 BBY: "The Sith build shrines on planets, including Malachor and Moraband. They covet these locations for their connection to the dark side of the Force."

c.1,050 BBY: A Mandalorian Jedi

"Tarre Vizsla becomes the first of the Mandalorian warriors to be inducted as a member of the Jedi Order. The unique lightsaber he constructs comes to be known as the Darksaber, later stolen to be used as a symbol to unite his planet."

c.1,032 BBY: Coruscant Temple erected

"The main Jedi Temple on Coruscant is constructed at the same location where there was once a Sith shrine."

c.1,032 BBY: "Darth Bane, the last surviving Sith, recognizes that infighting and back-stabbing ultimately led to the downfall of the Sith Empire. He declares the Rule of Two, whereby there can only be a sole master and single apprentice of the Sith. The practice safeguards the inherently selfish Order from self-destruction, thus ensuring the survival of the Sith for centuries to come."

1,000 BBY: Reformation of the Republic

"The first incarnation of the democratic alliance of planets, the Galactic Republic, is reformed."

c.972 BBY: Rules of war

"The Galactic Accord of Systems establishes a set of rules of engagement, in the event another war should break out."

896 BBY: Yoda is born

"The future Jedi Master Yoda is born."

832 BBY: Construction of Theed

"Naboo’s capital city, Theed, is built. The floating city on the banks of the river Solleu becomes the jewel of the metropolis."

867 BBY: Naboo joins the Republic

"The planet of Naboo officially joins the Galactic Republic. The event will be commemorated annually with The Festival of Light."

796 BBY: Students of Yoda

"Master Yoda begins training Jedi. He will maintain this regular practice, teaching the newest members of the Order, for about 800 years."

600 BBY:

Jabba Desilijic Tiure is born.

509 BBY:

Yaddle is born.

c.392 BBY: PATHFINDERS

"The Republic and the Jedi establish Pathfinder teams to explore new hyperspace lanes in the farthest reaches of the galaxy. A team of Pathfinders typically includes two Jedi, a master and their apprentice, who work together with their Republic allies to discover new ways through dangerous and unexplored places. They work with communications teams who lay the groundwork for the infrastructure needed for Republic growth. In return for their efforts, the Jedi Order hopes to gain new understanding of the galaxy, new cultures, and the Force."

c.383 BBY: THE HYPERSPACE RUSH

"Independent explorers also race to discover new paths through hyperspace. These prospectors risk their lives in perilous, uncharted corners of the Outer Rim, hoping to find safer, shorter routes. Families like the Grafs and San Tekkas earn great fame and fortune by selling their knowledge of these new hyperlanes."

382 BB The First High Republic book of Phase II

The High Republic: Path of Deceit kicks off the second phase of books, set 150 years before the previous phase.

382 BBY: Battle of Jedha

"The Path of the Open Hand instigates a battle on the sacred moon of Jedha."

232 BBY The First High Republic book of Phase I:

The High Republic: Light of the Jedi, which kicks off the original era of the High Republic (out of universe, not in universe), starting with the Great Hyperspace Disaster where a ship explodes in hyperspace over the planet Hetzal Prime. This ignites an intergalactic conflict with the Nihil that draws the Jedi and the Republic into a massive connected, long-running series of battles against them.

232 BBY:

"Dignitaries and Jedi gather at the Starlight Beacon for its official dedication ceremony."

The Great Hyperspace Disaster (the Legacy Run explodes in hyperspace) happens and the Jedi rush to help mitigate the disaster and evacuate as many people as they can.

"The brave deeds of the Jedi Order [in the Great Hyperspace Disaster] are cast across the galaxy via holotransmissions, making Kriss and her fellow Jedi heroes."

The Emergences: "Though Hetzal has been saved by the heroics of the Jedi, fragments of the Legacy Run continue to threaten the frontier. Fear grips the Outer Rim as blazing wreckage of the ship appears with little warning from hyperspace. As the Republic seeks answers to these Emergences, a group of Jedi stranded in a forgotten corner of space unknowingly cause a far older and more sinister threat to emerge: the Drengir."

"Wreckage from the Legacy Run scatters through hyperspace, endangering the Outer Rim. The first of the Emergences after the Great Hyperspace disaster occurs at Ab Dalis, killing 20 million beings."

"The Nihil strike on Elphrona, intending to ransom well-connected homesteaders and capture a Jedi for Marchion Ro’s evil machinations."

"The Jedi Council votes to join the Republic against the Nihil."

232 BBY: A BEACON OF HOPE

"With the Great Disaster behind them, the Republic and Jedi refocus on the opening of the Starlight Beacon. This towering space station located in the Outer Rim is one of Chancellor Lina Soh’s Great Works, meant to provide a symbol of hope in a dark corner of the galaxy. This shining example of Republic unity and progress serves as a vital base for the ongoing struggles with the Nihil and Drengir."

"One of Chancellor Lina Soh’s Great Works, the Starlight Beacon, begins operation after a dedication ceremony attended by Republic dignitaries and prominent members of the Jedi Order. The station is to be just one of many beacons, serving to connect, inspire, and serve the Republic’s growth in the Galactic Frontier. The Jedi maintain a permanent presence on the station under the leadership of Marshal Kriss and the watchful eye of the exacting Jedi Master Estala Maru."

"Hunting the Nihil - Though it lacks a formal military, the Republic forms a special task force to hunt the Nihil, with Joss and Pikka Adren among the first volunteers."

"The Jedi broker the Ayelina-Ludmere trade agreement."

232 BBY: GROWTH OF THE DRENGIR

"The carnivorous Drengir take root across wide swaths of the frontier. Their lust for living flesh, which they consider “meats,” leads them to attack hundreds of worlds. Defenseless settlers and the Jedi alike struggle to repel these horrifying plantlike creatures."

231 BBY: THE REPUBLIC FAIR

"Chancellor Lina Soh’s next Great Work is a magnificent fair on Valo. Meant to celebrate the Republic and its many achievements, the event turns into a tragedy. The Nihil mount a merciless raid on the fairgoers, destroy the event, and nearly kill the chancellor. The Jedi defenders mount a valiant defense but are outnumbered."

231 BBY: FIGHT FOR THE FRONTIER

"The Jedi march across the frontier as they seek justice for the attack on the Valo fair. With the Drengir threat seemingly settled, they turn their attention to the scattered Nihil forces. The Jedi believe that they are gaining the upper hand, but are unaware of who leads the raiders and their ultimate goal. The Nihil Tempest Runners bear the brunt of the assault while the Eye of the Nihil, Marchion Ro, prepares a new weapon to fight the Jedi."

"The Republic-Togruta Alliance is formed."

230 BBY: FALL OF STARLIGHT

"The Nameless wreak havoc among the Jedi, who fight valiantly in Starlight’s final moments. Master Estala Maru sacrifices his own life to delay the top half of the station from burning up in Eiram’s atmosphere. Below, Master Stellan Gios stays behind to ensure the lower portion will not strike a populated city on the planet’s surface."

"The Jedi recall their members to safety on Coruscant."

"The Republic readies a Defense Coalition fleet to strike at Nihil space. The Jedi, concerned that they cannot yet combat the Nameless, remain on Coruscant."

c.200 BBY:

"Births: Chewbacca— Wookiee hero and copilot born on Kashyyyk."

102 BBY:

"Serenno foundling Dooku’s family abandons him as an infant after discovering his Force abilities. The Jedi bring him to Coruscant to join the Order." (Dooku is born this year.)

Sifo-Dyas was also born in 102 BBY.

86 BBY:

Dooku becomes Yoda’s Padawan.

Sifo-Dyas becomes Lene Kostana’s Padawan.

84 BBY:

Sheev Palpatine is born on Naboo.

c.80 BBY:

Rael Averross becomes Dooku’s Padawan

72 BBY:

Mace Windu is born. (Take with a grain of salt, it's from a De Agostini booklet and never appeared anywhere else that I can find.)

c.70 BBY:

"Averross is knighted and encourages Dooku to take another Padawan."

68 BBY:

Qui-Gon Jinn becomes Dooku’s Padawan.

c.58 BBY:

"After attaining the rank of Jedi Master, Dooku is offered a seat on the Jedi Council."

Qui-Gon becomes a Jedi Knight.

57 BBY:

Obi-Wan Kenobi is born on Stewjon.

54 BBY:

"Obi-Wan Kenobi begins his Jedi training." (Presumably this means he was 3 years old when he was adopted by the Jedi and began his training then.)

52 BBY:

Palpatine is elected Senator of Naboo.

50 BBY:

"The Nightsisters sell Asajj Ventress to Hal’Sted."

46 BBY:

Padme Naberrie is born on Naboo.

44 BBY:

Obi-Wan Kenobi becomes Qui-Gon Jinn's Padawan.

"Stranded on remote Rattatak, the Jedi Knight Ky Narec discovers Asajj Ventress and trains her as his Padawan."

c.44 BBY - "Amid concerns about the corrosive effects of dynasties, the Naboo Reformations limit monarchs to a maximum of two two-year terms."

42 BBY:

Rael Averross introduces Dooku to Palpatine.

Dooku leave the Jedi Order and returns to Serenno to reclaim his title.

c.42 BBY: "Civil war engulfs Mandalore, a planet with a proud honor code and a war-torn history. Its clans form factions, with the conflict evolving to pit tradition-minded clan fighters against New Mandalorians who see the warrior past as a dead end."

c.42 BBY: "Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan protect Duchess Satine Kryze during the Mandalorian Civil War. Obi-Wan and Satine fall in love and he offers to leave the Jedi Order to be with her. They decide that their duties won’t allow them to follow their hearts."

c.42 BBY: "The Mandalorian Civil War ends with Satine’s New Mandalorians ascendant, though traditionalists—including Satine’s sister Bo-Katan—organize to resist her rule."

41 BBY:

Anakin Skywalker is born.

"Distant secret Ancient Jedi lore leads Obi-Wan to the Force-imbued planet Lenahra, where he forges a deeper connection with the living Force." (These are the events of the Padawan novel.)

c.41 BBY: "Holiday interrupted While visiting Kashyyyk, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan foil a Trandoshan raid aimed at taking Wookiee prisoners during Life Day celebrations." (These are the events of Star Wars Adventures 2020, issues 3-4. Unclear if this is before or after the novel Padawan.)

40 BBY:

c.40 BBY - Maul becomes Sidious’ apprentice.

Qui-Gon is offered a seat on the Jedi Council. He does not accept by the end of Master and Apprentice.

"Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan visit strategically located Pijal to oversee the signing of a treaty between its monarchy and the Czerka Corporation." (These are the events of the Master and Apprentice novel.)

39 BBY:

c.39 BBY: Sifo-Dyas joins the Jedi High Council.

38 BBY:

c.38 BBY - "Shmi and Anakin Skywalker are brought to Tatooine. Their enslaver, Gardulla the Hutt, soon loses them to Watto in a bet."

37 BBY:

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan mediate a conflict on Bri’n. (Age of Republic - Qui-Gon Jinn #1)

36 BBY:

Orson Krennic and Galen Erso meet.

Ahsoka Tano is born.

34 BBY:

"Mace Windu helps overthrow the warlord Guattako." (These are the events of Age of Republic - Special #1)

"A skilled mechanic, Anakin begins gathering spare parts to build a protocol droid, C-3PO, to help Shmi with household chores."

"Sidious tests Maul on Malachor."

33 BBY:

"Plo Koon discovers a Force-sensitive Togruta toddler named Ahsoka Tano. He brings 'Little ‘Soka' to Coruscant for training."

"Sifo-Dyas orders a secret clone army to be created on Kamino."

"Eager to test his abilities against the Jedi Order, Darth Maul kills the Twi’lek Padawan Eldra Kaitis on Drazkel’s moon." (These are the events of Darth Maul 2017)

Caleb Dume/Kanan Jarrus is born.

32 BBY: THE PHANTOM MENACE

"The former Padmé Naberrie is just 14 when elected and has barely taken office when the Trade Federation blockades and then invades Naboo."

The events of The Phantom Menace take place, the Trade Federation invades Naboo, Valorum sends Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon to help Naboo, Anakin Skywalker is adopted into the Jedi Order, Qui-Gon Jinn dies.

"Count Dooku pledges himself to the ways of the Sith, replacing Maul as Sidious’ apprentice and taking the name Darth Tyranus."

"Palpatine is elected supreme chancellor."

"Obi-Wan takes Anakin as his Padawan."

"The Sith take over Sifo-Dyas’ project to create a clone army, ordering inhibitor chips implanted in the clones to ensure their obedience."

"With Sifo-Dyas dead, Dooku takes over the clone project, altering it to serve the Sith’s purpose. In his guise as Tyranus, Dooku recruits the bounty hunter Jango Fett as the genetic template for the Kaminoans’ clone army. He then instructs the Kaminoans to secretly implant inhibitor chips in the clones’ brains to ensure their obedience. The clones will fight for the Republic, but the Sith will be their true masters."

Han Solo is born.

Boba Fett is born.

Yaddle is killed by Dooku.

31 BBY:

"Kuat Drive Yards receives an order from a secret buyer to create massive numbers of warships and weapons."

30 BBY:

"Sidious’ minions begin constructing a massive Observatory on Jakku, the first of several built as part of the Sith Lord’s decades-spanning Contingency project. As Palpatine, Sidious orders the secret establishment of bases, shipyards, and colonies in the galaxy’s Unknown Regions."

29 BBY:

c.29 BBY: "Anakin seeks out his first kyber crystal on Ilum and creates a lightsaber, an important step in his Padawan training."

"Anakin goes on a mission in Coruscant’s underlevels with a disguised Chancellor Palpatine, whom he comes to see as a mentor."

"Influenced by Palpatine, Anakin tells Obi-Wan he wishes to suspend his Jedi training and surrenders his lightsaber. With Anakin’s path undecided, Yoda sends him and Obi-Wan to Carnelion IV to investigate a distress signal. [Eventually] Anakin decides to remain Obi-Wan’s Padawan." (These are the events of Obi-Wan & Anakin 2016)

Hera Syndulla is born.

28 BBY:

Queen Amidala's final year as Queen of Naboo, where her successor, Queen Réillata, asks her to be Senator for Naboo and Padme agrees, taking office that year.

"Remembering her experience after fleeing Naboo, Padmé sends Sabé on a mission to investigate how to end slavery on Tatooine." (This ultimately doesn't really go anywhere/accomplish much, unfortunately.)

"Padmé becomes friends with two young fellow senators: Rush Clovis of Scipio and Mina Bonteri of Raxus." (These are the events of Queen's Shadow.)

c.28 BBY: "Obi-Wan and Anakin are sent to retrieve a Holocron from Dallenor, leading to a confrontation with the Krypder Riders." (These are the events of Age of Republic - Obi-Wan Kenobi #1.)

27 BBY:

c.27 BBY: "Cliegg Lars buys Shmi Skywalker’s freedom from Watto. They marry and live on Cliegg’s moisture farm."

26 BBY:

"While on a mission to Sullust, Dooku kills the Jedi Knight Jak’zin and forces the Kaldana Syndicate to serve Sidious’ interests." (These are the events of Age of the Republic - Count Dooku #1.)

"Obi-Wan and Anakin rescue Yoda from raiders on Glee Anselm, but discover the incident was actually a test engineered by the Jedi Council [to help them get along better]." (These are the events of Choose Your Destiny: An Obi-Wan & Anakin Adventure.)

24 BBY:

c.24 BBY - "Dooku founds the Confederacy of Independent Systems, attracting planets that wish to secede from the Republic and beginning the Separatist Movement."

"The Senate passes the Emergency Powers Act, allowing Palpatine to remain in office for the duration of the Separatist Crisis."

"Palpatine forms the Loyalist Committee to advise him during the Separatist Crisis. Senators belonging to the committee include Bail Organa of Alderaan, Padmé Amidala of Naboo, Ask Aak of Malastare, and Orn Free Taa of Ryloth."

"The Senate begins debating the Military Creation Act, which would allow the Republic to create military forces for its defense."

"Adrift after the death of Ky Narec, a grief-stricken Asajj Ventress embraces the dark side and becomes a warlord on Rattatak."

"Osika Kirske imprisons Ventress on Rattatak, forcing her to fight as a gladiator. Dooku frees her and offers to make her his apprentice in hopes of one day supplanting Sidious. Ventress agrees to serve as the count’s agent and assassin." (These are part of the events of Dooku: Jedi Lost.)

22 BBY–19 BBY: The Clone Wars

"A political crisis propels the Jedi Order into a galaxy-wide war against the Separatists, secretly led by the Sith."

22 BBY: ATTACK OF THE CLONES:

"Obi-Wan and Anakin help defuse a crisis on Ansion." (Mentioned in Attack of the Clones: "He's just returned from a border dispute on Ansion," Mace says of Obi-Wan.)

The events of Attack of the Clones take place, Padme is attacked for her stance against the Military Creation Act in the Senate, Jar Jar introduces a motion to give Palpatine emergency powers as Chancellor, including the discovery of the clone army, Shmi Skywalker dies, Obi-Wan and Anakin and Padme are held captive by the Separatists and rescued by the Jedi, many who die in the arena, as well as Jango Fett dies, and the start of the Clone Wars.

Anakin and Padme are secretly married on Naboo.

Poggle the Lesser gives the Death Star plans to Dooku.

The Clone Wars begin on Geonosis.

22 BBY: THE CLONE WARS:

"Mace Windu leads a Jedi mission to Hissrich. As a member of Windu’s team, Jedi Prosset Dibs accuses the Order of wanting Hissrich for the Republic. He duels Windu and is defeated. Dibs is found guilty of treason and confined to the Jedi Archives in hopes that he’ll find his way back to the light." (These are the events of Jedi of the Republic - Mace Windu.)

"Padmé and Captain Typho help Sticks’ squad of clone troopers free Separatist hostages on the embattled planet Hebekrr Minor." (These are the events of Queen's Hope.)

"Anakin becomes a Jedi Knight."

"Obi-Wan becomes a Jedi Master and is elevated to the Jedi Council."

"Obi-Wan investigates a bombing on Cato Neimoidia and discovers the attack bears the hallmarks of both a Republic and Separatist operation. He brings this disquieting hint that someone is manipulating both sides of the war back to Coruscant. Anakin duels Ventress on Cato Neimoidia." (These are the events of Brotherhood.)

"Captain Rex, formally designated CT-7567, is assigned to Anakin Skywalker, who saves his life during the Battle of Arantara. A mutual respect soon blossoms between the brash, bold young Jedi general and the sturdy, by-the-book clone officer."

"Anakin’s troops run afoul of hostile wildlife while searching for Separatist forces on Benglor." (These are the events of Star Wars Adventures: The Clone Wars – Battle Tales #1.)

"The Techno Union’s Wat Tambor destroys the Nexus trading post on Quarmendy to keep Plo Koon’s troops from reclaiming it." (These are the events of Star Wars Adventures: The Clone Wars – Battle Tales #2.)

"Yoda assigns Ahsoka Tano to Anakin as his Padawan, hoping to teach Skywalker how to let go of his emotional attachments."

"The Separatist battlecruiser Malevolence terrorizes the galaxy’s inner systems before it is tracked and destroyed at the Dead Moon of Antar."

21 BBY: THE CLONE WARS:

"The Republic invades Geonosis for a second time to destroy a dangerous new droid foundry constructed by Poggle the Lesser."

"Padmé and Jar Jar discover a bioweapons lab in Naboo’s swamps and must stop Nuvo Vindi from releasing the Blue Shadow Virus."

"General Grievous and Asajj Ventress lead a Separatist invasion on Kamino, with the Republic’s clones fiercely defending their birthworld."

"Sabine Wren is born on Mandalore but raised on neighboring Krownest."

20 BBY: THE CLONE WARS:

"Anakin experiences a disturbing vision of his future in the Force realm known as Mortis and must make a wrenching decision."

"The Republic defends Mon Cala during a Separatist-engineered civil war between the Mon Calamari and the Quarren."

"Republic forces suffer heavy casualties while storming Umbara, a strategically located world with advanced technology that has become a Separatist stronghold."

"Maul returns from exile, bent on obtaining revenge against the long list of those he believes have wronged him."

19 BBY: THE CLONE WARS:

"Maul forms the Shadow Collective, forging several of the galaxy’s crime syndicates into a single underworld organization under his leadership."

"Mandalore’s Duchess Satine Kryze is overthrown by Death Watch’s Pre Vizsla, whose own rule is quickly ended by Maul. Maul has manipulated events to bring Obi-Wan to Mandalore, and now has the hated Jedi at his mercy. He strikes Satine down in the throne room."

"Responding to a disturbance in the Force, Darth Sidious arrives on Mandalore. Maul swears fealty to his old master, but Sidious rejects him. He kills Savage, blasts Maul with lightning, and takes his former apprentice prisoner."

"Anakin and Ahsoka return from Cato Neimoidia to investigate a bombing at the Jedi Temple amid rumors that a Jedi was involved."

"Ahsoka is expelled from the Jedi Order, which believes her guilty of the Temple bombing. She is then arrested by the Republic and prosecuted by Admiral Tarkin before a military tribunal, with Palpatine presiding and Padmé representing the defense. [She] leaves the Jedi Order."

"During the Battle of Ringo Vinda, the clone trooper Tup turns his blaster on Jedi General Tiplar, forcing a Republic retreat. Fives and AZI-3 discover a tumor in Tup’s brain. He dies after its extraction. Palpatine and Nala Se insist the tumor be sent to a Republic medical facility, but Shaak Ti decides it must go to the Jedi Temple first. Kix helps Fives arrange a meeting with Anakin and Rex. Fives tells them about the inhibitor chips and the plot against the Jedi, but his story sounds like a paranoid conspiracy and he becomes agitated. Commander Fox and clone troopers arrive, sent by Palpatine, and try to arrest Fives. When Fives resists, Fox shoots him dead. Tup’s action is blamed on a parasitic infection, and the inhibitor chips are delivered to Dooku."

"Padmé travels to Scipio to expedite a Banking Clan loan for the Republic and discovers Rush Clovis is serving as their representative. The Banking Clan is dissolved and Palpatine takes over its holdings."

"Plo Koon discovers the crash site of Sifo-Dyas’ ship, prompting the Council to investigate the Jedi’s long-ago disappearance."

"On Oba Diah, spice kingpin Lom Pyke tells Anakin and Obi-Wan that the Pykes were paid by Tyranus to kill Sifo-Dyas. Dooku arrives and is identified as Tyranus. He kills the Pyke leader and duels with Anakin, but escapes."

"The Jedi are disturbed to learn Dooku was responsible for the creation of the clone army, but decide to keep this revelation secret."

"Yoda obeys Qui-Gon’s voice and travels to Dagobah, where Qui-Gon’s spirit tells him to learn how to retain his identity after death."

"Anakin teams up with a mysterious Chiss military officer, Thrawn, to locate Padmé and destroy a cortosis mine." [Thrawn: Alliances]

"Yoda helps Kashyyyk’s Wookiees defend their planet against Separatist raiders, earning the honor 'Defender of the Home Tree.'"

"Mandalorian commandos free Maul from Stygeon Prime. Sidious and Dooku allow him to escape in hopes of drawing out Mother Talzin. Maul lures Grievous and Dooku into a confrontation on Ord Mantell and takes them both prisoner—a dangerous gambit of Talzin’s aimed at luring her old enemy Sidious into the fight. Grievous and Sidious come to Dooku’s aid on Dathomir. Grievous kills Mother Talzin and the Mandalorians drag Maul away to safety."

- "Ventress asks the Jedi to help abduct Vos from Dooku’s service in hopes of saving him. Vos returns to the Jedi, claiming his turn to the dark side was a ruse. But his true loyalties are unclear. Vos defeats Dooku on Christophsis, but agrees to join him to defeat Sidious. His secret hope is to kill both Sith Lords. Ventress confronts Vos and Dooku, saving Quinlan before Dooku attacks her with a devastating blast of lightning. The count escapes. Vos and Obi-Wan return Ventress to the waters of Dathomir. [Ventress dies.]"

"Having left the Jedi Order, Ahsoka befriends Trace Martez, a mechanic in the Coruscant underlevels, and her sister Rafa. Ahsoka discovers the Pykes are working for Maul, who is on Mandalore. She uses the Force to escape with the Martez sisters, and the Pykes conclude they were targeted by the Jedi. Ahsoka returns to Coruscant, where Bo-Katan Kryze recruits her to fight Maul."

"Separatists commanded by Admiral Trench invade the Republic stronghold of Anaxes and repeatedly defeat clone counterattacks. Rex is disturbed that the Separatists seem to be adapting rapidly to his strategies and suspects Trench is using some new combat algorithm. He proposes raiding the Separatists’ cyber center to discover their secret. The mission succeeds with assistance from an unorthodox unit of genetically altered clones known as the Bad Batch."

"Anakin joins Rex’s clones and the Bad Batch to raid the Techno Union’s facility on Skako Minor, fighting their way through Wat Tambor’s droid legions. They discover Echo confined in a stasis chamber and hooked up to Separatist computers. Anakin confronts Trench to obtain the rest of the sequence to disarm the bomb, saving Anaxes. He then kills the admiral. Echo joins the Bad Batch."

"Grievous launches a Separatist counteroffensive. The Republic sends Aayla Secura to Felucia and Plo Koon to Cato Neimoidia to hold the line."

"Obi-Wan and Anakin rout Separatist forces on Yerbana. ["Old Friends Not Forgotten"] Ahsoka and Bo-Katan approach the Jedi to propose a joint mission to capture Maul and free Mandalore from his crime syndicate. The Jedi agree and split the 501st in two, with Rex leading troops under Ahsoka’s command."

"A Separatist armada launches a sneak attack on Coruscant, hammering the Republic warships of the Coruscant Home Defense Fleet. Grievous ambushes Palpatine in the Federal District, killing Roron Corobb and knocking Shaak Ti unconscious, then kidnapping the chancellor. The Open Circle Fleet arrives from Yerbana."

19 BBY: REVENGE OF THE SITH:

"Anakin and Obi-Wan fly through the titanic space battle, dodging salvos of laser fire exchanged by Republic and Separatist capital ships in an effort to reach the Invisible Hand, where Palpatine is being held. With the Separatists cut off from their jump point, the battle degenerates into a brutal slugging match, with ships burning up in orbit and debris raining down upon the Coruscant cityscape below. Anakin and Obi-Wan rescue Palpatine above Coruscant. Anakin kills Dooku and Sidious plots to make the Jedi his new apprentice."

"Grievous retreats to Utapau, where the Separatist Council is in hiding. Sidious orders him to relocate the Separatist leaders to Mustafar."

"On Mandalore, Republic forces take the docks of the capital, Sundari. Prime Minister Almec orders Gar Saxon to retreat into the undercity. Bo-Katan’s commandos capture Almec. Ahsoka confronts Maul in the undercity. He is disappointed to see her, having hoped to lure Obi-Wan into his trap."

"Anakin dreams of Padmé’s death in childbirth. Palpatine appoints Anakin to the Jedi Council as his personal representative, to the alarm of Yoda and Mace Windu."

"Bail Organa meets secretly with Padmé, Mon Mothma, and other senators determined to resist Palpatine if he doesn’t surrender his wartime powers."

"Yoda heads to Kashyyyk to bolster its defense."

"On Maul’s command, Saxon shoots Almec before Ahsoka can finish questioning him, then makes his getaway."

"At Coruscant’s Galaxies Opera House, Palpatine plays on Anakin’s anger and doubt about the Jedi’s integrity, guessing that they asked him to be their spy. He tells Anakin the story of Darth Plagueis, a Sith Lord who could save people from dying. Anakin, fearful his nightmares are a premonition of Padmé’s fate, is intrigued—particularly when Palpatine tells him it is not a power that can be learned from the Jedi."

"Obi-Wan travels to Utapau to hunt for Grievous."

"Clone troopers, Bo-Katan’s commandos, and Saxon’s warriors battle in the streets of Sundari, with the Republic’s forces winning the day."

"Ahsoka confronts Maul again, who tells her Sidious is behind everything and Anakin is the key to destroying the Sith. Maul reveals that he had hoped to lure Obi-Wan and Anakin to Mandalore in order to kill Anakin, so Sidious could not take the Jedi as his new apprentice. Ahsoka and Maul duel. Maul is captured by Rex’s clones, with Saxon apprehended as well."

"On Utapau, Obi-Wan confronts Grievous. He duels the Separatist warlord and then chases him through the city’s winding tunnels and warrens."

"Palpatine reveals his true identity to Anakin and begs him to use his knowledge to save Padmé. Anakin vows to turn him over to the Jedi."

"Obi-Wan corners Grievous in a hangar on Utapau and kills the mechanical monster with a shot from a blaster."

"Imprisoned in a device that prevents him from using the Force, Maul is brought aboard a Jedi Cruiser destined for Coruscant, escorted by Ahsoka."

"Told of Palpatine’s identity, Windu orders Anakin to wait at the Jedi Temple while he arrests Sidious with Kit Fisto, Agen Kolar, and Saesee Tiin. Sidious kills Tiin, Fisto, and Kolar and duels Windu. He attacks Mace using lightning, which the Jedi Master deflects back at Sidious. Anakin arrives and pleads that Sidious be allowed to stand trial, but Windu says he’s too dangerous to be spared. Anakin makes a fateful decision, stopping Windu’s attack by severing his hand. Sidious blasts Windu with lightning, sending him through the broken window. Anakin pledges allegiance to Sidious, who grants him the name Darth Vader. He tells Anakin to go to the Jedi Temple and kill everyone there—that will make him strong enough with the dark side to save Padmé."

"Ahsoka and Maul sense a strong disturbance in the Force."

19 BBY: ORDER 66

"Sidious issues Order 66. Clone troopers across the galaxy obey their inhibitor chips and attack the Jedi, decimating the Order."

"Commander Cody targets Obi-Wan Kenobi on Utapau. The Jedi survives the attack, escapes offworld, and is rescued by Senator Organa. Aboard the Jedi Cruiser Tribunal, Rex manages to tell Ahsoka to “find Fives” before trying to kill her. She evades Rex’s fire and flees from his troopers. Commander Grey and his clone battalion execute Depa Billaba on Kaller. oda avoids death by killing Commander Gree and Captain Jek, and then escapes Kashyyyk with help from Chewbacca and Tarfful. On a Jedi Cruiser above Bracca, Jaro Tapal is cut down by clones from the 13th battalion, sabotaging the warship before he dies. Captain Jag downs Plo Koon’s starfighter during a patrol flight on contested Cato Neimoidia. Ki-Adi-Mundi is cut down by Commander Bacara’s Galactic Marines during infantry maneuvers on Mygeeto. Luminara Unduli is captured on Kashyyyk. After her execution, the Inquisitors spread rumors of her survival to ensnare other fugitive Jedi. Stass Allie is blasted by Commander Neyo while flying BARC speeders in a mop-up operation on Saleucami. Commander Bly gives the order to shoot Aayla Secura amid Felucia’s colorful fungi."

"Ahsoka prevents other clones from killing the imprisoned Maul. She releases him to create a diversion. While Maul wreaks havoc aboard the Tribunal, Ahsoka activates a trio of astromechs to help her evade Rex’s troops. Ahsoka locates Fives’ records, learning what happened to him and that Rex suspected the clones’ inhibitor chips have some ulterior purpose. Ahsoka subdues Rex and removes his inhibitor chip. Maul destroys the Tribunal’s hyperdrive, sending the doomed Jedi Cruiser careening toward the surface of a remote moon."

"Bail Organa arrives at the Jedi Temple to investigate the uprising and is confronted by clone troopers. He retreats under fire."

"Anakin, now known as Darth Vader and backed by the 501st Legion, marches on the Jedi Temple and slaughters its defenders. He shows no mercy, believing that the dark side is the only pathway to the unnatural powers he must command to save Padmé. As his rage and lust for power swell, not even younglings hiding in the Jedi Council chambers are safe from his lightsaber. Elsewhere, young Grogu survives a clone trooper attack but is haunted by his memories of the event."

"Anakin obeys Sidious’ command and kills the Separatist leaders on Mustafar, shutting down their droid armies and ending the Clone Wars."

"The Senate holds a special session, during which Palpatine—now scarred after his battle with Mace—details the Jedi plot to kill him and take control of the Senate. He proclaims the Republic is to be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire."

"Obi-Wan and Yoda fight their way into the Jedi Temple and recalibrate a signal to warn any surviving Jedi away."

"Padmé arrives on Mustafar, unknowingly bringing along Obi-Wan as a stowaway. Anakin uses the Force to choke her. As C-3PO and R2-D2 tend to Padmé, Anakin and Obi-Wan fight a running duel through the lava flows of Mustafar’s mining complex."

"On Coruscant, Yoda confronts Sidious and the two duel in the Senate Chamber, with Sidious hurling Senate pods at his Jedi enemy. Ascendant with dark-side power, Sidious proves too tough a foe for Yoda, who flees their duel, evading clone troopers sent to hunt him, and is whisked away by Bail Organa in an airspeeder. Sidious senses his new apprentice is in danger and hurries to Mustafar."

"Anakin is left maimed and burned after dueling Obi-Wan on Mustafar. Obi-Wan takes Anakin’s lightsaber and leaves him to die. Anakin survives and is encased in life-preserving black armor. As Darth Vader, he becomes the subject of rumors as the Emperor’s servant and enforcer"

Padme gives birth to Luke and Leia, then she dies. Bail Organa takes Leia to Alderaan and Obi-Wan takes Luke to the Lars' farm on Tatooine, going into exile there, while Yoda is on Dagobah.

"Ahsoka and Rex bury the clones at the Tribunal’s crash site. She leaves her lightsaber behind to find a new path."

19 BBY: GALAXY IN DARKNESS

"Tarkin tells Lama Su that the Kaminoans’ contracts are void and the need for future clones is being questioned."

"Padmé, appearing to still be pregnant, is laid to rest after a solemn funeral procession on Naboo."

"Mas Amedda presides at an Imperial rally held before Coruscant’s Jedi Temple to celebrate the defeat of the Order."

"Sidious abandons Vader on the desert planet Gattering with orders to seize a Jedi’s lightsaber and make it his own. Vader travels to a dark-side locus on Mustafar and bends Infil’a’s kyber crystal to his will, making it bleed red. By compelling the Force to serve his purposes, Vader takes an essential step in his journey as a Sith."

"Sidious puts Vader in charge of the Inquisitors, Force users who once served the light but were seduced or brutalized into following the dark side and are now responsible for hunting down and killing the galaxy’s fugitive Jedi. Vader proves a ruthless taskmaster, brutalizing his new underlings in combat training sessions and eliminating those who fail to live up to the standards demanded by him and the Emperor."

"Sidious orders Vader to lure the Jedi Order’s fugitive archivist Jocasta Nu to Coruscant’s Jedi Temple and capture her. An enraged Vader kills Commander Fox after clone troopers under his command fire on the Sith Lord at the Jedi Temple. Nu explains to Vader what he’s failed to realize: Sidious wants the memory crystal and its list so he can find a potential replacement for his apprentice. Vader kills Nu, tells Sidious she died trying to escape, and crushes the crystal."

"The Empire builds up its forces and begins enlisting and training conscript stormtroopers to replace the Republic’s clone soldiers."

"The Empire bombards Kamino’s cities, destroying all traces of the cloning program that played a critical role in the Clone Wars."

SOURCES & NOTES:

Star Wars Timelines by Kristin Baver, Jason Fry, Cole Horton, Amy Richau, and Clayton Sandell is the primary source for much of this, anything in quotation marks is sourced from here unless otherwise noted. This timeline is only quoting a small minority of what's available in the book, so it's recommended that you check it out for yourselves!

I have done my best to put everything in order even within the specific years, noting where I'm not 100% sure of the sequence of events.

If a "c.[YEAR]" is included, the spot is estimated, not hard fact, but in general it's a pretty trustworthy placement! Except for birthdays--they're not placed directly on the timeline, so I just kind of threw them in at the end most times.

Observation: Holy crap, the Clone Wars was NUTS.

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

Forbidden Crown - V

Summary: During a sleepless night, you stumble upon Kit alone in the garden. After making up from your fight, discussions of your future lead to a night of confessions and heated passion.

Pairing: kit tanthalos x princess!reader

Contains: smut!!, oral, light fingering, kissing, first time, outdoor sex, nipple play, confessions, forced marriage trope, nightmares, making up, 18+

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: It’s finally here!! This is not the end. There’s gonna be 2-3 more chapters after this. Also, is this intimacy lowkey beautiful? I had such sappy little feelings writing this.

Not speaking to Kit after your fight was agonizing. Each morning, you woke up and spent the day assisting your mothers with wedding planning while avoiding each other at all costs. You had to admit, you missed her terribly; there were nights you lay awake, wondering if you should go find her and apologize, until you replayed your fight in your mind and anger washed over you once more.

One morning, you had woken up slightly later than usual, and descended the stairs into the Great Hall to find Kit sitting with her mother, accompanied by two men you didn’t recognize. Sorsha chatted with the men excitedly, while Kit sat quietly, wearing a pained and bored expression.

One of the men, identifiable as a diplomatic envoy by his fine garments dyed in Galladoorn green, reached into his satchel, pulled out a document, and slid it over to Sorsha. “I can assure you, your highness, the kingdom of Galladoorn is in high spirits over this alliance. I trust the contractual negotiations are to your liking?”

Sorsha scanned over the document, humming in approval. “Everything seems very fair, yes. My daughter is immensely grateful for the opportunity to marry Prince Graydon, isn’t that right Kit?”

Kit scoffed in response. Sorsha (not-so-gently) nudged her under the table, causing her to stifle a groan and reluctantly nod. With one final nod of satisfaction, Sorsha dipped her quill pen in ink and signed the bottom of the contract, sliding it back across the table.

“All we need is a notarization,” the envoy stated, looking towards his partner. The notary, donning a modest tunic and a feathered hat, took the quill from Sorsha and signed his own name just underneath. He passed it to the envoy to tuck into his satchel, and handshakes were immediately exchanged around the table.

“Prince Graydon is quite eager to make your acquaintance, Princess,” the envoy assured Kit as he shook her hand. “And who could blame him? I would be too if I were betrothed to such a beauteous young maiden.”

He shot her a sly wink, prompting her expression to crumple in disgust. You couldn’t hold back the audible gag that left your throat at his comment, causing Kit to turn in your direction. She met your gaze, finally noticing your presence in the doorway and froze in place.

The finalization of her betrothal should have left you emotional. Normally, you would cause some sort of commotion, or rush over to the envoy to attempt to destroy the contract. Instead, you simply offered Kit a curt nod as you turned away and calmly made your exit.

That night was spent tossing and turning as a recurring nightmare from your fifteenth year overtook you. Familiar fears revisited your subconscious, using recent events to transform into a new horror.

The dream began as usual, with you and Kit making flower bouquets in the Tir Asleen garden. This time however, instead of leading you astray, she offered her bouquet and pulled you in for a sweet kiss. You closed your eyes as you savored the familiar warmth of her soft lips, almost pillowy against your own.

When you pulled away, expecting to see Kit’s shining face, you gasped when Airk suddenly stood before you. Glancing down, you found that once again, a wedding gown had replaced your everyday clothing, and the bouquet Kit gifted you had wilted in your hands. Faceless guests lined chairs in rows, the weight of their stares falling upon you as you stood at the altar.

Behind you stood a priest, wearing a stoic expression as he spoke mechanically. “We are gathered here today in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

“Amen,” chanted the guests in unison, their monotony making your skin crawl.

“Do you,” the priest eyed you. “Take Prince Airk Tanthalos to be your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”

“No!” You shrieked, but none of the guests reacted. You tried to break away, but found your hands had been chained to Airk’s. “I cannot take him, please forgive me! I don’t love him!”

You felt someone nudge your shoulder, and turned to see Kit standing behind you. She wore a wedding dress eerily similar to yours, and her hands were bound to another faceless character presumed to be her own groom. Any previous color had been drained from her features, and she spoke with a tone as lifeless as her facial expression.

“Marriage isn’t about love, Princess.”

Once again, you shot up in bed, gasping for breath as you clutched your pounding heart. A quick glance out the window showed a still-black sky, with no indication of the morning sun. You grabbed your pillow and buried your face in it, the linen helping to muffle your frustrated groans.

Fearing a repeat of the nightmare, you decided sleep was futile. Abandoning your bed, you quickly donned your nightrobe and prepared for an insomnia-induced stroll through the castle.

Cool January wind pricked your face as you ventured outside. Usually, you would wrap your nightrobe tighter around yourself, but tonight, you welcomed the cold air as a distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts plaguing your mind.

You wandered the castle grounds with a lantern in hand, your feet inadvertently guiding you towards the Tir Asleen garden. Yielding to your subconscious, you sought solace among the shrubs and snowdrops. Just as you reached the gated entrance, a soft rustle echoed from within the garden. You froze as you saw a shadowy figure shift in the distance, fearing you had stumbled upon an intruder.

With a trembling hand, you raised your lantern to reveal the figure. Your heart skipped a beat when Kit’s face came into view, sitting beneath the tree where you shared your first childhood kiss. Neither of you dared to speak. With a sigh, you turned to leave, reaching for the gate latch.

“Wait…” she called out.

You paused, hand still on the gate. Kit looked at you with pleading eyes, hugging her knees to her chest. “Please don’t go…”

Pity washed over you, overriding any lingering anger. Kit appeared like a wounded bird: fragile, frail, a fragment of her former self. You approached and settled opposite her, facing but keeping your body pointed away.

Silence enveloped you both. You continued to study Kit’s newfound decrepitude as she rested her head on her knees. The lantern you had set aside highlighted her dark circles, shadowed like bruised fruit yet to ripen.

“I have so much to apologize for,” she murmured eventually, her voice coming out soft and meek. Lifting her head, she tucked her chin between her knees but avoided your gaze. “I really, truly do. I’ve been so… angry, and I took it out on you.”

“Why me?” You asked sincerely. “Have I done something to offend you? Because if so…”

She shook her head, cutting you off. “There was no order, no reason. I was hurt… and I wanted someone else to feel that hurt… and you were there. That’s all.”

You continued to stare, resisting the urge to reach out and soothe her tousled hair. Instead, you remained still, waiting for her to speak again.

“I was so lost in my own despair, I neglected to consider your distress,” she continued. “I’ve been so contrite, but I don’t expect your forgiveness. I’d understand if you were to loathe me.”

She didn’t need to beg; you crawled over and wrapped your arms around her. “I could never loathe you.”

Kit looked up, her big blue eyes brimming with tears. “You couldn’t?”

“Of course not,” you reassured her. “I love you.”

The word slipped out before you could stop it, the one word neither of you had uttered to each other before. You froze, feeling her tense in your arms. Those brilliant baby blues, the ones you had fallen for, continued to stare up at you, but you refused to meet them.

“You do?” She asked, disbelief coloring her tone.

You bit your lip, nervously playing with the ends of her short locks. She studied your features for a moment before a sly smirk spread across her own. Reaching behind her neck, she grasped your hand and pulled you into a captivating kiss. Your lips immediately melted into hers, engulfed in the familiar warmth you craved during her absence. She snaked her free hand around your waist, and you reciprocated by clutching the fabric of her nightshirt, both of you desperate to draw closer.

It was her who finally broke the kiss, pulling away with a sigh. “I love you too, if that wasn’t clear,” she chuckled lazily.

“It was,” you giggled, still a bit dizzy. Unsure of what to do next, you made a feeble attempt at a joke. “Such a pity marriage isn’t about love, isn’t it?”

Kit’s smile vanished instantly, guilt returning to her widened eyes. “I didn’t—“

“No, no, you were right,” you cut her off, repositioning so your head could lean against her chest. “Marriage isn’t about love…” you admitted sadly, regretting your jest. “Though… it should be…”

The last sentence was murmured under your breath, but Kit heard it anyway. She stared off into the distance, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as she contemplated her next words. “I’ve heard whispers…” she began.

You glanced up at her, curious. “Whispers?”

“Of other kingdoms, far more… advanced than ours. More innovative. More… accepting.”

Turning to face her, your expression twisted with confusion and disbelief. “Kit… what exactly are you suggesting?”

She took your hands in hers as she carefully surveyed your features. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to watch you walk down the aisle to my brother. I don’t want to marry Graydon, or any man, or anyone else but you…”

“Kit…” you interrupted gently, urging her to get to the point.

She sighed, squeezing your hands. “I want you to come with me.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “Where?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted with a smile. “Somewhere that will allow us to be together, somewhere that isn’t here.”

“Kit…” you began, shaking your head in disbelief. “Surely you’re not suggesting we… run away?”

“Not immediately,” she assured you, brow furrowing in thought. “It will take some time. We’ll need a plan. Some essentials. Research on different kingdoms and villages. We could even flee to an African country! I’ve read of societies that encourage the union between two women…”

“Kit,” you cut her off with a chuckle as you tried to be the voice of reason. “How could we possibly get to Africa?”

“We’ll devise a way!” A crazed smile crossed her face as she pulled you closer. “In the worst of perils, we’ll retreat to the Wildwood and live as simple woodswomen!”

Your expression turned serious. “But our kingdoms. Our responsibilities. Even if we were to flee to a different kingdom, we wouldn’t be princesses. We would be common villagers. You wouldn’t harbor the same power you do here, Kit.”

Kit simply sent you a lopsided grin. “Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a terrible thing.”

A defeated sigh left your lips as you searched her expression for humor, but found none. “You’re truly serious about this?”

All the love and admiration in the world couldn’t compare to the way she gazed at you. “I’ve never been more serious about anyone my entire life.”

There was nothing you could do to stop the way your heart lurched at her words. You nodded. “Alright.”

“Alright?”

“The weddings aren’t until next month. We can use that time to plan and leave the night before.”

Kit grabbed your face and pressed her nose to yours with an excited giggle. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered joyously before crashing your lips into hers. She eagerly reciprocated, grabbing handfuls of your hair in an attempt to draw you closer. Your arms encircled her, fingernails clawing at the back of her nightshirt as if you were underwater, desperately seeking a surface.

She moved atop you, swinging her leg over until she straddled your hips. The tree bark pressed against your back, scratching against your nightclothes like a scribe’s quill on parchment. Her lips traveled to your jaw, rolling your sensitive flesh between her teeth and eliciting soft moans from deep within your throat.

“Kit…” the name fell from your mouth in short gasps. Her hands were everywhere, roaming your body with the urgency of a desert traveler seeking water. Each brush, every gentle caress burned at your core, causing your body to tremble under her touch.

Desperate for release, your hips instinctively bucked against hers. You expected her to pull away, as she had when you were teenagers. She didn’t. Instead, her moans filled your mouth and vibrated against your lips.

You were the one to pull away, panting heavily as you pressed against her shoulders. “K-Kit? Are you… I mean… is this alright?”

Kit seemed to be lost in a daze. Her pretty pink lips were slick with spit and parted slightly as she fought to catch her breath. “I love you, Princess,” she began. “I long to share the remainder of my days… every fiber of my being with you. But only if you’ll allow me.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t have to. All you needed to do was sit up and pull her into a tender kiss to convey your agreement. Her hands wandered to your midsection, untying your nightrobe and slipping it off your shoulders. All that remained between you and her was your thin nightgown. She traced the hem with her fingers, looking to you for permission. You nodded, shifting to allow her to pull it up over your shoulders before casting it aside.

Kit gazed upon your naked body as if it were a work of art sculpted by the Greek gods. She layed you back down, gently lowering your head unto the base of the tree as the cool grass tickled your bare skin. Her visage could only be defined as lovesick. “Will you tell me if I should stop?”

A breathless sigh escaped your lips. “I can’t imagine I’ll want you to.”

“Promise me,” she insisted, and you saw her request for what it was. Behind her hungry stares, amidst her growing need was a real, genuine pursuit of consent. You nodded, agreeing, and she was on you again.

Her lips traversed beneath your jawline, leaving a trail of kisses before stopping at your chest. “Continue?”

“Please,” you purred.

She took one of your breasts in her hand, pinching the erect bud. The soft sounds that elicited from your throat could have been enough to cease her heart’s beating. Her mouth found its way to your other breast, suckling at your swollen nipple with careful curiosity.

You groaned as your hand flew to the top of her head. “Kit… please don’t tease…”

Removing herself from your bosom was a task that Kit was initially reluctant to do, but soon complied after your hips began rolling into her once more. She resumed peppering kisses down your torso, pausing just above your mons. “Surely you’d like to stop now?”

You gave her a small laugh, shaking your head. “Far from it.”

With a serious determination, Kit dragged her index finger up the length of your wet folds, noting the way your breath hitched when she came in contact with your clit. Lowering her head, she squinted to observe the pink pearl, barely visible in the dim lantern light, which seemed to sweeten your sounds. She experimented with her fingertips once more, gently encircling your clit with the fascination of a honeybee drawn to a blossoming flower.

“Kit…” you growled, hips chasing her touch.

Your novice lover couldn’t help but marvel at the way your juices glistened on her skin. Overcome with intrigue, she stuck her slick-covered finger in her mouth, moaning at the taste.

“Is it pleasing?” You asked.

“Very,” she replied. “Like a salted peach.”

It didn’t take long for Kit to dive into you like a woman starved, using her tongue to explore every inch of your wet slit. She didn’t know what she was doing, but she was a determined and fast learner, each breath, each shift, each guttural cry from your throat helping her to gauge your needs and proceed from there.

Soon, amidst your labored breaths and electric shocks of pleasure came an unfamiliar sensation deep inside your pelvis, as if someone had wound a spring tightly around your muscles. “K-Kit…” you sputtered. “It feels quite tense…”

Kit groaned in recognition, murmuring something akin to ‘the lewd literature.’ She spoke while her mouth was still on you, each word vibrating against your core and adding to the stimulation. “Breathe, beautiful. You’re doing so well. Trust me, lean into it, it’ll feel so good.”

You did as you were told, relaxing your muscles and leaning into the powerful sensations. The way Kit looked up at you as she lapped at your folds only spurred you forward, nearer, closer to wherever you were going. It wasn’t long before a burst of warmth exploded in your abdomen, causing your legs to tremble and your vision to blur. You squeezed your thighs together against her head, ragged breaths pleading with her to stay right where she was as you rode out your climax.

Kit lifted her head up once your breathing evened out, grinning up at you with a mouth coated in your slick. “Was that alright?”

“More than,” you assured her, still panting. “Much more than.”

She crawled back up to you and tenderly brought her lips to yours. Hints of your arousal still lingered on her tongue, irrefutable evidence of the events that just transpired. You hummed as she pulled back, goofy, embarrassing grins spread across both of your faces.

“Shall I return the favor?” You asked, trying to be seductive but your eyelids were drooping heavily.

Kit chuckled, taking your face in her hands. “At a later time,” she responded, thumbing the dark rings under your eyes. “It appears we both could use some sleep.”

Too tired to argue, you let your head fall back onto Kit’s chest. She smirked, reaching for your discarded nightrobe and draping it over both of you. Her arm settled upon your shoulders as she nestled into your hair, planting a kiss on your head. “Sleep well, Princess.”

That night, you both slept in the Tir Asleen garden, intertwined under the tree’s protective branches until the first light of dawn crested the horizon.

Tag List: @chloepricesgirl @canmargesimpson @yourelliewillms @valenftcrush @camilleee222 @prettygirlfemme @slaytillieswooo @lovinglynny @joanvisitsrome @athenalive @mih11 @j-pacifica @everybodyhatesari @vii-ofswords @sofi4v13 @detmarmalade @at1nyzen @ikyk-leeknow

[hisunshiine]

—eternal reign | knj |

🥀 pairing: vampire king!namjoon x concubine!namedreader 🥀 au/genre: arranged marriage au, joseon era au, s2l, fluff, smut, angst 🥀 rating: M 🥀 wc: 7,748 🥀 warnings: some Joseon Dynasty research, reader starts as a concubine, mentions of murders, minor character deaths (off screen, minimal detail), patriarchal society, this is a vampire story, so some things come with the territory, like: mentions of blood, dubious consent, blood drinking, bleeding, scars, predator/prey feelings, explicit smut: unprotected vaginal sex, blood play, marking, eating out, nipple play   🥀 an: I used some of the historical figures of the Joseon Dynasty, and while I researched a lot for accuracy of this time period to respect the culture to the best of my knowledge, some historical information has been shifted and molded as this is a fiction story. For more information on Korean Coronation Events. Dual POV of 3rd and 2nd person, but the reader is named.

special thanks to the beta readers: @moonleeai, @colormepurplex2, @downbad4yoongi, @heathfritillary-blog, and @pars-ley

🥀 summary: In the shadowed courts of the Joseon Dynasty, a new King rules—one who holds a centuries-old secret that could unravel the kingdom. Namjoon, cloaked in mystery, is forced into a political marriage with the cunning yet unknowing Taelani, who soon discovers that her husband is no mere mortal. Drawn into his dark legacy and a web of alliances that could seal their fate, Taelani faces a choice: fulfill her family’s long-hidden destiny or defy it in pursuit of a forbidden love. As whispers of blood and betrayal rise, the throne itself may be the ultimate sacrifice.

🥀 an#2:🎃This wicked treat was written for Theresa - @mrsparkjimin18 as part of the “Sweet Tricks & Wicked Treats” BWHQ Fic Gifting Event 🎃and was also written for the @bangtanwritershq’s 4th Quarter Writing Event: Monster Mash

masterlist ❁ ao3

Joseon Dynasty year 1483

🥀🥀🥀Namjoon🥀🥀🥀

Namjoon never expected to sit upon the sacred altar in Changdeokgung Palace, as the recipient of the Three Cheers from the crowd, where the people hurrahed for his longevity and for the dynasty. 

“We are meant to rule from the shadows,” the memory of his grandfather’s voice flits through his head as if he’s standing beside him. “An absolute and eternal reign relies on the eternal flame which burns with our dedication and loyalty, and which must remain out of sight from those who wish to douse our light.” 

And yet, mere hours ago, under the beating heat of the Korean sun, he participated in the Transfer of the State Seal with Queen Sindeok, listened to the Three Solemn Calls, watched as the Three Kowtows were performed, and returned it with the Four Ceremonious Bows.   

The room around him is loud, and Namjoon struggles to focus for a moment as he gazes across the crowded space. The gilded walls encapsulate the refreshments and revelry as the noble families celebrate his ascension to ruler of the country. He looks around, eyes finally landing on his family members split between being wall flowers blending in and meteor showers glittering as they shine across the night sky. 

He takes an unneeded deep breath, sighing in his discomfort. He knows it was his idea; something had to be done to maintain the balance in the realm, but he’s not used to being a figurehead for something so much larger than himself—for the very thing he sacrificed everything for to protect. 

“Ah, Yi Bang— I mean, King Namjoon, my apologies,” the greasy-haired Chief State Councillor Jeong Dojeon bows lowly in apology at using the given name of the prince and not his newly appointed royal title now that the transition to king has been completed. 

That is one upside to this position, Namjoon thinks as he stares at the man. Even if I must hide my identity, at least I am able to keep my true name. 

“I wanted to present to you my family’s gift for your coronation.” His eyes, small and squirrely, gleam with a dark intent that Namjoon has always detested. As one of the government officials appointed by the previous Queen’s father, Dojeon craves ultimate power, pushing for the Councillors to make decisions for the King, instead of enacting and enforcing the King’s decisions. “This is Jeong Taelani, my eldest daughter. She is now yours, Pyeha.” 

The honorific term is not lost on Namjoon. The Chief State Councillor’s schmoozing actions are as oily as his hair, but Namjoon’s not a squeaking door, and his disdain only grows as he tracks the sweep of Dojeon’s hand towards the girl next to him, as if he needs a concubine to loosen him up. 

But Namjoon has to work hard to school his features back to stoic boredom when his eyes fall onto the—unable to believe he called her a girl—beautiful woman standing a pace behind her father. 

Red hanbok lace and silks flow over her curves. Gold threading is woven intricately at the hem, along the cuffs engulfing her delicate hands, and at the lapels that tie above the swell of her breasts, glimmering, resplendent swirls that captivate him. He doesn’t show it, though. Despite his next words, his tone is full of boredom and his eyes barely linger on her. 

“Thank you, Dojeon, she is a true beauty.”

The older man smirks, rubbing his bearded face thoughtfully. “She has been trained for, ahem, her position—assisting your every need—in the palace her whole life, and vetted through the steps to be placed here just last week. I am sure that you will find her to be up to your standards.” He bows once more, this time much lower, before backing away from the elevated seating area and disappearing back into the party. 

“Emperor,” Taelani bows deeply, her knees gracefully meeting the floor as she pays him the respect of a ruling monarch. Her voice is a deeper honey sound, more seduction than the tittering pitch of the female nobles Namjoon is used to. 

“Jeong Taelani,” Namjoon tests her name in his mouth, her jasmine fragrance invading his senses as she resumes her previous standing position. Her large eyes look away from his gaze quickly, but that’s all he needs to feel the heat of the lightning they struck him with. He can feel his pants tightening—thankfully, his gujangbok covers his crotch from the view of both Taelani and his attendees. 

He stiffens, feeling something else begin to lengthen in need, and he turns his eyes swiftly away from Taelani, looking at the palace guards nearest him. 

“Please escort Taelani to her chambers, and send for the Huwon guards. I will meet them shortly.”

🥀

Sharpened ivory glistens under the moonlight before piercing the unblemished bronze skin of the woman’s throat, his venom silencing the beginnings of a guttural shriek before it can really begin. He settles in the gazebo with a jimil nain, or lady-in-waiting, straddled across his lap. Her throaty sounds transition instead to a pleasurable moan as she attempts to grip the lapels of his ceremonial robes. 

He grasps her hands, pulling them away from him and moving them behind her back, clutching both wrists in one hand so his free hand can resume controlling her head for his monthly feeding. One that he should not have needed just yet, thanks to the retaliatory massacre last week, but he ignores that fact for now. 

The blood fills his mouth, sharp pulls draining the essence from the woman as her movements against his body slow. He’s thankful—her body is not the one he craves to be writhing above him in pleasure, despite her lovely sounds and curves. 

He has to play this role smartly. His family’s legacy is on the line. He withdraws his fangs, feeling the dull ache of thirst dissipate fully as his blood lust retreats. The woman is nearly unconscious, and the two guards who brought her approach her limp form silently.

“Thank you,” he says to his younger brothers, both adorned in the traditional wear of the Naegeumwi Royal Guards. They take the woman from him as he stands before the youngest of the two, Jungkook, takes her fully and holds her almost in a lover’s embrace. Namjoon looks at them as he steps several paces away and Taehyung, his other sibling, approaches him and straightens his robes to help him look presentable again.

“NaBi was the only one we could get on such short notice,” he explains quietly as the sounds of Jungkook feeding crescendos and subsequently drops as he heals the bites on the now sleeping woman’s neck. “She was already in Kook’s room waiting for him.”

Namjoon runs his fingers over his silks, tightening the belt at his waist. “Tell him I’m sorry I didn’t mean to mess up his feeding schedule. The hunger just took over and I…”

“He understands.” Taehyung places his hand on his older brother’s shoulder. “We’ve never taken on something like this, so we didn’t know what to prepare for. We’ll move more of the feeders into the palace in various positions, and Jimin can oversee them. Your plan was the best one, and we will find a way to make it work.”  

Jungkook cradles the woman’s body in his arms bridal style as he steps towards the door. He and Taehyung lead Namjoon out of the garden and back towards the main palace. Jungkook turns to the left down a hallway after they enter shelter as Taehyung and Namjoon continue toward the Emperor's chambers. 

“Have Jimin order more of the blood tea for the feeders. I’m not sure how often I’ll need to feed now that…” he trails off as they walk, thoughts conflicted with this strange turn of events. He stops once he reaches the doorway of his room. “And Taehyung? Discretion, please.”

Namjoon feels the tension leave his body once he is in his own space. He didn’t expect to feel the voracious pull to feed so soon—he drank more than his fill merely a week ago. Typically, he feeds once a month, so the blood lust he just quenched is strange. Could it be because of his new concubine? Her scent is oddly alluring to him, and his attraction to her is undeniable. He hasn’t ever experienced such a thing, but maybe one of the elders knows something more. 

🥀🥀🥀Taelani🥀🥀🥀

Confused. That’s how you feel as you are led away from the king, his eyes regarding you cooly before you disappear into the quiet halls of the palace. Your slippers and the silks you wear are the only sounds you hear as you are shown the pathway to your quarters, and then the low hum of the maids' voices as they help you undress and prepare for bed. 

The next week continues much the same as your first night in the castle. The other court members are seemingly always busy, leaving you bored and unsure of yourself. On the one hand, you are happy that you haven’t been called upon like you were warned would happen—like you’ve been trained for. Your womanhood remains intact, something you did not expect to happen, but it allows your time of the month to come and go without any issues. 

A part of you did fear that your menstrual cycle would agitate the new king should he come upon you that first night, but instead, he had shied away, allowing you time to spend in the royal library reading and writing letters to your sisters. At the end of the first week, you squeal with happiness when a courtier brings you a sealed parchment marked with your family’s crest. 

Dearest Taelani, 

How have you been? We are so pleased that you’ve had time to write to us. Is it nice there? I so wish we could have joined you on the trip, but Father said no. Are the rumors true? Is the king as bloodthirsty as his predecessors? Is there war on the horizon? Will you be able to throw a fancy ball so we can visit? I know you’re his only concubine right now, do you think you will become his wife? Father is not telling us much, and he’s making it seem like we shall never get to travel to see you. 

Don’t forget us!

As if you could ever forget your sisters. And a ball sounds like a lovely idea…really. You wonder if the king would allow you to do such a thing and if your father would allow your sisters to come. Maybe if the king demanded their presence. Your sister made a good point that right now, there’s no one else to compete with for his affections. If you can charm him, is there a possibility..? If only he would see you or talk to you. How else could you convince him of this one favor, or even that you’re worthy of a more legitimate role? 

It couldn’t be so easy as to show up at his bedchamber tonight and try and convince him with a well-placed massage? Could it?

Deciding to reign in all of your thoughts, you hold off on writing back so as to see first if you could plan a soiree of some sort, and turn back to the book you were reading before the courtier arrived. It was not written all that long ago, but it details some of the more recent history of the country, including the king’s grandfather. 

You had always thought it to be an urban legend, the stories whispered in the dark about when his grandfather was in power, but as you read through the history of the family, you realize with each story of the king’s grandfather that he truly was blood thirsty for power—he apparently murdered all of his older siblings for the throne. 

There is a massive family plot to the south of the palace that holds his deceased siblings, and ever since, despite the number of enemies the crown has acquired over the years, his family line has been the only one to rule. Every attempt to maim and murder the royal family has been thwarted, and the groups leading the coups are never to be seen or heard from again. Bloodthirsty isn’t even half of it. 

Closing the handwritten tome, you gather your skirts about you so that you can climb off the comfortable lounging spot. You have spent all week reading through to try and understand this family that you now reside with, but all you seem to find is death and despair. Through the window you can see the sun is setting, and now that you have a plan in mind, you decide to seek out the king instead of waiting for him to come to you. With your cycle gone, you feel confident enough to seduce King Namjoon. As his first concubine, you are sure you won’t be the last, but you want to make an impression. 

As a woman in this world, your power is lacking. The power you do hold will be in the sons you can bear for the king, and in the ability to wield your feminine wiles to seduce and keep the king wrapped around your finger. Best to start now. 

🥀

The palace corridors are well-lit as you traverse the pathway towards the king’s chambers. You made a quick stop at your own rooms, shedding the hairpins that bound your hair tightly, allowing your tresses to fall in subtle waves from the earlier styling. You also shed some of the layers you typically wear, allowing you to show off more of your curves. 

There doesn’t appear to be anyone outside the door to his room, so you slip in easily, taking a look around. The room is tidy, with barely anything on display on the walls or in cabinets to show his personality. Cold, just like he was the first time you met. A few minutes pass as you observe what you can, until voices outside the door alert you to the king’s approach. You position yourself on his bed, sitting at the edge with a leg crossed over the other and your palms behind you as you lean back slightly. 

Your loose hair is over one shoulder, and you attempt to flutter your eyes demurely as King Namjoon steps into his bedchamber. 

🥀 

Ten minutes later, you stand in your own room again, confused by what had occurred. The King, a young, virile man, sent you out after you all but threw yourself at him. If anything, he seemed in a rush to get you out of his rooms, all but promising that you had nothing to worry about when you voiced not carrying out your duties. 

“I know you worry about your standing in the palace, but you have nothing to fear. I will not be taking in any other women—you are the only one for me. You will be my Queen Consort. So please, you don’t have to stoop to these levels. You are excused.”

You definitely hadn’t prepared what to do in the event that the King said you didn’t need to seduce him and that you would be his Queen Consort. All of the stories the women told you about had prepared you for losing your virginity and other sexual acts to seduce the King and win his favor. Nothing they shared with you implied you wouldn’t have to do anything sexually with the man and he would raise your status one step, though a large one in the eyes of the nation. A wedding already in the works, unbeknownst to you. How strange this new king is. 

🥀

The royal wedding that everyone has been waiting for a month to arrive is nearly here, with you in your red gowns of silks and satin, awaiting your cue for the ceremony. As much as you’ve enjoyed not having to behave wantonly, a part of you is drawn to your betrothed, and you realize: you want to. His movements as he walks through the palace, the grace with which he moves and speaks, all of these small things seem to thrum through your body, lighting all of your nerve endings on fire. 

Why he denies himself the access he has to your body, you aren’t sure, but you hope that this wedding means that will come to an end. Maybe he’s just been waiting for tonight to consummate the marriage, instead of behaving how you were warned all men with power behave. 

Everything is a blur as the hours pass, the sun crossing the sky until it descends below the horizon, allowing the moon to rise into its rightful place. With all of the revelers now sated in thirst or hunger or desire, they’re all sequestered away in the places that allow them to unwind. Most of the palace is now quiet, and you tiptoe with feather-light steps across the bedchamber towards your newly betrothed. 

The King sits at an ornamental desk, metallic paints wrapping around the curves of the furniture as he leans over and writes, the scratches of the quill on the parchment revealing the short strokes he writes in Hangul. He’s shirtless, wide shoulders unblemished and you want nothing more than to mar the skin with signs of pleasure.  

Your fingers lift to lightly trace along his right shoulder, but before you can touch him, his left hand grasps your fingers as he half turns to face you. You let out a small gasp in surprise—you didn’t think he would have heard you sneak up on him.

“Perhaps you should head to bed, Taelani, it was a long day.”

He barely looks at you as he speaks, and you feel yourself wilting. It’s fascinating, but deeply disturbing to you that it seems like he’s attracted to you but keeps turning you away. Everything you’ve been told about men is wrong. You want him to have his way with you, and he can’t be bothered to even stop drafting a letter to look at you for more than a second. 

You feel yourself pouting, and it seems to work for a moment. Namjoon’s eyes soften, and he tugs you closer when you attempt to pull your hand out of his. 

“I know this is not the most normal of situations, but I won’t stop you from seeking out your needs. You can take up with anyone as long as it is discreet, and any children you should bear will all be raised as if they are my own.” You freeze as he releases his hold on you and turns away, back to his missive.

You step away from him, trekking backward until the backs of your thighs touch the silk sheets on the bed. Embarrassment heats your neck and cheeks, because you do not understand why your husband turns away from you. It makes you feel…unwanted. Sitting down, you can only blink as you attempt to understand the man before you. But nothing thus far has made any sense.   

🥀

The movement of the bed slowly wakes you, and you stretch your limbs out as your eyes blearily try to take in the low lighting in the room. 

“...need the Huwon guards as soon as possible, I will meet them there.”

You stay still when you hear his voice, your brain instantly becoming more alert as you try to hear more of his request, but it only grows quiet again as the door shuts. You can barely hear his footfalls as he flits about the room, and you sneak a peek through cracked eyes as you keep your breathing level. He’s grabbing his upper garments and re-dressing, and in only a few more moments, he’s slipping out of the door.

You get up, immediately grabbing for your robes as you slip from the satin sheets to follow your new husband.

You stay as far back as you can, drifting between shadows as you make your way towards what you now know is the Huwon Secret Garden. While the garden grounds themselves take up a large expanse of the palace area, there is a beautiful and intimate pagoda of sorts that lies in the rear after crossing a small bridge with a tiny waterfall. You lose sight of Namjoon, but you know he must be headed there, so you continue on your way, avoiding the minimal guard presence. 

Approaching the enclosed garden pergola, a gasping moan sounds and you quicken your steps, evermore the curious. Peering through one of the open slats of the enclosure, you see your king—your husband—with his arms wrapped around another woman. His mouth is to her neck as she straddles him, and though her face is hidden between the shadows and behind his bulky build, you know you heard the pleasure she felt. When he pulls back from her, you watch, entranced, as he laves his tongue along the skin he’s just marked. A burning jealousy shoots through your veins until a cloud moves out of the moonlight and a beam shines straight through. 

Your eyes widen as they take in the elongated fangs, the blood dripping from the corners of his mouth, and the way the woman now lay limply in his arms. Spinning on your heel, you flee back to your room, praying that your pounding heart calms enough before he returns.

🥀🥀🥀Namjoon🥀🥀🥀

It’s almost debilitating to Namjoon having his new wife around him. It’s been only a week—one mere week of his eternal life—and you have made him into a ravenous, salacious blood fiend. This lust for the iron-smelling essence that runs through mortal veins, and one in particular more so than the others, means that he hasn’t been handling all of the new changes to his life well. 

Going from the shadows and becoming the face of the nation he loves so much, that his whole family has given their lives for, is not exactly what he expected. He is much more used to using violence with his bare hands—and teeth—for their gain. Having to navigate politics with his wife’s father, Chief State Councillor Jeong Dojeon, is a whole new experience for him.

Not to mention that he’s insatiably drawn to his titillating wife, but knowing that her father is actively working against the reigning family has Namjoon’s guard up. The way she keeps trying to throw herself at him… Admittedly, he knows he’s spied on her letters and conversations, and she seems none the wiser to what her father is doing, but too much is at stake for him to risk it without knowing where she stands for sure.

Namjoon stretches his arms above his shirtless torso, then sets down the quill to mull over the letter he needs to finish and send to the front lines of their war efforts against the rival faction. They’ve quieted down some, ever since their attack on the true prince which led to an almost absolute destruction of said rival faction, but money will unite anyone against a common enemy if paid enough. 

His ears perk up as he takes in the thrumming melody of your heartbeat as you move around the adjacent bathing room to your communal bedchamber. It’s late, much later than a person would typically bathe, and without the aid of maids, but he’s in no hurry to overwhelm his senses with you. He focuses on the sounds; of the water draining from the side of the palace, of the soft garments sliding along your skin as you dress, and he tenses—readying himself for your scent to overtake him as he turns and stands to face your re-entrance into the room.

Beautiful. Your large eyes are bright, warm even, and the way your body gracefully moves in that—he forcefully exhales as you approach him in an ornately sewn, semi-transparent lace robe. The vision of your full breasts with lace flowing over the peaks stuns him momentarily, and he allows himself a moment to drink you in. He’s so focused on trailing his eyes along the cupid’s bow of your full top lip that he doesn’t realize you’ve spoken to him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch what you said.”

“Oh,” you look down demurely, taking him by surprise. “My king, please. I would like just a moment of your time.”

“Of course,” Namjoon replies, but hesitates as he sits back down, unsure of what could have triggered such a formal conversation. Though, to be fair, he knows he hasn’t been the best conversationalist with his own wife.

He watches as you pull a small, stuffed stool closer to him and sit on it regally. The robe parts with the movement and he’s able to see that only a thin sliver of fabric covers your mound. Everything else is revealed to him. Your navel, your thighs, so much skin… 

“I know that you’ve given me permission to seek out other men, but I—I don’t want that.” 

Namjoon is still as he reigns in his impure thoughts and focuses all of his attention on you. “What is it that you want?”

“I want my husband. I–don’t you also feel—I just…” you sigh, and the weight of your next words would bring Namjoon to his knees had he not been sitting. “I know who you are. And I don’t care. I—”

Namjoon stands to his full height, eyes slightly narrowed at your small frame. 

“You know who I am?” he questions with disdain. Of course, you were too good to be true and exactly what he expected of your father. 

“Yes, you may be the king, but more than that, you’re my husband.” 

Namjoon pauses, listening on, but can see how tense you remain to continue speaking. “And what exactly don’t you care about?” He questions.

“I don’t care that you’re a—a vampire,” you rush out and continue speaking. “So please, don’t hold yourself back from me, I don’t want you to seek out your pleasure from others in the castle when I’m right here.”

His brain reels with an overwhelming amount of thoughts as you look up at him from where you sit, shoulders tight and lifted towards your ears as your chest rises and falls rapidly with each breath you take as you wait for him to speak.

You know he’s a vampire. How, he isn’t sure, because he knows that your father is not aware of that fact. No, he only assumed that your father had figured out that he was not the true prince, and instead a cousin filling in for the role, and shared this information with you. Nope, you meant you knew that he was immortal and knew of his late-night proclivities. He slowly lowers himself into the chair he vacated, wholly unprepared when you throw yourself forward onto your knees before him.

“Please, I’m right here. I only want you to touch me. No one else.”

Unable to resist, Namjoon does touch you, reaching beneath your arms to lift you to him. Even while standing, your eyes are only a few inches above him as he sits, and you step between his parted legs when he gently tugs you further into his space.

“I didn’t realize that my words made you feel unwanted.” Namjoon speaks slowly as he gathers his thoughts to organize his words. “I’m unsure how you came about this information, but I.. th-there’s some things we should clear up.”    

Your eyes appear to study him intently, brows inching closer as your face wrinkles with apprehension. The flooding of your veins as your heart rate increases leads Namjoon to pause and hold his breath before speaking.

“There is a reason that I have been so distant, and yet have only sought out to take one wife and no others. It came to my attention that your father has been one of the main financial supporters of a rival political party that supports more control from Chief Councilors and less from me. This money helped supply weapons and mercenaries, and there was an…attempt on my life recently. It was nearly successful at bringing down this clan’s reign and ending our family line.”

You gasp as he reveals this partial truth, and say, “I swear to you, my king, I knew not of such plans, I know my father has ambitions and a dislike for the lack of his power due to the crown, but not that he would steep to such levels for gain.” Namjoon can feel the way your pulse reacts as he holds your wrists in his large hands. You truly were not aware, and this knowledge helps quell any lingering doubts he has about sharing more information with you. 

“I believe that you had no knowledge of his plans or his financial support. But, because of that event, it is what led me to say yes to you as my concubine. You see, I felt that by having his daughter in the palace and by my side, that he would pull back his support of any rivals, and even decide to stop pushing for less control, especially since any heir would be his own grandchild to be on the throne.” Namjoon knows this last part is a lie, since he could not provide you with any children and the plan that is in place would not allow any child of yours to be on the throne, but he can’t tell you that. 

You nod, eyes rapt with attention as they pour over his face, gleaning any additional information you can. 

“My king, I do not support my father in his ventures. I promise you, I…he has never been much of a father to me. More like a tyrant or like…like he believes that my life does not matter more than what I am able to provide for him. You have saved me from him in so many ways, and I just want to show you my gratitude. I want you to feel my appreciation.” 

Your tone holds not an ounce of seductive undertones as you continue, “I care not that you are a vampire, I—” he allows you to pull free from his hold, turning your hands so that your palms lay on the outsides of his and you guide them carefully through the opening of your robes to your bare bosom, cupping his hands around your full chest. “I ache for you, Namjoon. I have never felt such a desire before, have never sought out the affections of a man. In truth, I’m terrified, but not because of what you are, but because I have never crossed this line before.” 

And Namjoon, still a man with carnal desires despite his blood lust, wants to be the one you cross that line with. He can feel the weight of your breasts as you move closer, stepping in such a way so that you can straddle him—which you do moments later. He feels his hands tighten around your chest without your fingers leading the motion, and the tiny, breathy moan that you release brushes against his lips from your proximity. 

He’s hardening, lengthening; his cock pressing against your clothed heat and his fangs inching from his parted lips, both aching to open you up for him. And just as the circling press of your pert nipples to the pads of his thumbs begins, you cover his mouth with yours, moaning for his ears only as you lean into his touch at all junctions where your body touches his.

It’s intoxicating; your scent wraps around him and the feel of your blood thrumming within your body as you tremble from the pure lust that seems to ooze from your pores as you, you! devour his lips with no care of his fangs. Your tongue is tentative, but curious—seeking to glide along his and taste all of him. 

When you pull back, he presumes to breathe since he need not this human action, his fang nicks your tongue on retreat. That one drop makes his muscles spasm—you pull back from him faster as his touch turns painful for a moment and then you are flying, landing on the bed in a frenzy and in a blink Namjoon is pressed to the wall farthest from you, his fists clenched tightly as he holds himself back from you. 

“There is…still much you need…to know and understand.” Namjoon strains to get the words out, actively fighting his thirst for his wife—for you—whose blood has never been tasted by another, and whose tight cunt has never been taken by another. “Please, walk slowly to the door and get the Huwon guards…”

“No, please, Namjoon, I want—”

“Now!” he roars, watching fear filter into your eyes as you spring from the bed and rush towards the door. With a speed rivaling light, he is in front of you before you can make it three steps from the bed. His predator instinct couldn’t allow you to leave the room now. Grasping you under your thighs, he lifts you effortlessly, drawing his nose along your neckline.

Instantly, your fear melts away from your body, leaving you boneless as he deposits you forcefully to the bed you just vacated.

“You will take me, and I will drink from you, and then, I will tell you everything, but I can’t…can’t let you go. I must have you.”   

🥀🥀🥀Taelani🥀🥀🥀

The gentle husband whom you had straddled mere moments before, who had kissed you with a softness that you have never known, was no longer the man above you. Instead, a predator climbs onto the covers as you scramble backwards, but his hand grips your wrist and slides you along the silk sheets back underneath his body.

His hands box in your head, with his knees bracing either side of your hips. Your heart is pounding, and you freeze beneath him, finally understanding why he said to walk slowly. 

~~

“Grandfather, what do I do if I encounter a bear or something of the like in the forest?” Five-year-old Taelani asks as she walks along her family grounds with her maternal grandpa. 

“My dear Taelani, you must never run if you encounter a large animal. Predators are wired to chase after prey. Be steadfast, like a deer or a hare. Freeze and watch first. They may not mean you any harm, but if you should run, they cannot stop themselves.” 

~~

Going stockstill seems to work, just as you remembered learning about as a child. Namjoon mimics this, freezing his own body and his dilated eyes close as he leans closer into you and…inhales. 

“I’m sorry, but I—I need to feed.” His voice is tense, a quiet murmur that fills the silence.

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” you say, proffering your own neck. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

“This is not—I wanted this to be different, I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve—”

“—a husband who will make love to me, and feed from only me. Because I am yours, and you are mine.”

His eyes open with a blazing, hungry stare and before you can do anything else, he descends on your lips with a fierceness. His hands move from the sheets to your robe, ripping it open to expose your dusky nipples to the chilled air. He grips the hem of the clothing preventing you from full nudity and all but destroys it as he pulls it from your body in a feral show of strength.

“Mine.” His words are a low growl before his mouth is once again on yours, this time his hands now free to roam your body without clothing to hinder him. His deft hands move in symmetry to cup your breasts, giving them a supple squeeze before drifting down your hips and he moves his body lower along yours so he can hook his arms around the backs of your thighs. 

The silks beneath you allow him to easily slip between your skin and the satin, giving him the right angle to push your legs up and bare all to him. You shiver in anticipation, feeling how wet you are by the air now meeting the heat between your thighs. You want him. The throbbing of your clit makes you want to clench your thighs together for some relief, but the way he’s holding you won’t allow it. 

His kisses trail lower, mouth hovering over your nipple until his lengthened teeth graze the sensitive skin. Arching your back, he takes this as a sign to suck the peak into his mouth, tongue swirling as you moan. He switches sides, treating them equally before continuing lower, tongue dancing across your navel. The caress of the wet muscle has your body jumping with desire. 

“Oh!” You can hardly keep quiet when his tongue tastes you, laving flat across your open warmth before making short, quick passes along your clit. Your hands grip the sheets in desperation—for him to stop, for him to continue—the pleasure is overwhelming. 

“You taste…divine,” his voice rumbles, and you try to keep your eyes on him but squeeze them shut when his mouth returns to devour you. Sensual, plump lips kissing you, sucking you, tongue fucking you—you writhe beneath him. His hands press you wider, keeping you open as your muscles fight against the pleasure and threaten to close around his head.

And he doesn’t stop. Not until you're dripping, and the lower half of his face is glistening with you. You barely register his movements, can barely tell that he’s naked and climbing above you until he’s suddenly in your eyeline. Floating…that’s what this feeling is, like floating on a cloud, carefree. And when the blunted tip of his cock nudges at your still quivering heat, you widen your legs and welcome him, urging him to fill you. 

And, oh! You don’t expect the pressure to build as he thrusts within you, and you cry out in pain, in pleasure, in ecstasy at the fullness he brings as your walls quiver around him. 

Your hands tighten on his shoulders as he begins to move with more gusto, continuing to keen at the feeling—all of the feelings—and slowly the pain lessens and he glides with less stilted motion, bottoming out again and again and again.

A rhythmic chanting sounds, and it takes a few moments for you to recognize your own voice, so laced with desire and lust, pleading for him. “Please, gods, don’t stop, please!” along with a guttural reply, “I won’t,” filling the bed chamber that surely the others in the palace must be awake and able to hear. Namjoon appeases your request and his hips continue to piston fluidly, his strong thighs creating a cacophony of sounds as they meet the backs of yours. 

An inhale, sharp and stilting—a grunt, with hips stuttering—his fangs piercing the tender skin at the crook of your neck as you feel the blood weeping from your vein as he drinks deeply of you. And you shatter from the ecstasy, like a fallen vase of porcelain, pieces scattering like twinkling stars across the galaxy in a vibrant bursting of flames. 

🥀

“I am…older than I look.” You lay with your head upon Namjoon’s chest, fingers dancing along the smooth, glistening skin of his chest. His voice reverberates in your head as his low timbre continues. “And I am not truly the Queen Mother’s son, but her relative.”

You tilt your head to look up at him.

“I died a little over 50 years ago. Many of my family within these walls are like me. Forever frozen in time. When my father was just a boy in 1390, his uncles and aunts all fell ill of the fever. One by one, they passed away, and his father, fearing death, sought out the answer to life. When all was said and done, the only one to survive the fever was my grandfather’s youngest brother. In order to secure his place on the throne, stories spread that the youngest son killed all of his older siblings for power. In reality, my grandfather helped spread this and protected him all the while from assassination attempts.”

Looking with wide eyes at him, you almost can’t believe that what he says is true. Almost.

“This became our family’s mission. To protect the youngest sibling's line. For all of the children born to the older siblings who did not pass from the fever, upon approaching their 30th year and after having a family if they so wished, would endure the change and live forever. We have grown in our numbers and have always worked to protect the one line that history can know about. The Queen Mother’s great-grandfather is that youngest sibling. Merely days before I took the throne, her son, the true heir, was murdered.”

With a gasp, you sit up, clutching the satin sheets to your naked breasts.

“In order to hide that this attempt was successful, I stepped into his place and took the throne. And the Queen Mother will have another child, one who we will raise as our own and be the next successor, rightfully restoring the line to power once more.”

 “I have so many questions, I can’t even begin to list them!” you pout, stifling a yawn at the late hour. You understand that you will have to raise the Queen Mother’s son as your own child so that the correct lineage remains on the throne, but what of your own children? 

“We have plenty of time for your questions, my love. Maybe I shall answer some of them as I tell you more?”

As Namjoon continues to regale you with his tale, spelling out exactly how your lives will be, you settle back into his body and listen intently to his deep tenor rumbling against your cheek, curling your naked body around his own, until you fall asleep. 

🥀🥀🥀

Epilogue

Eighteen years have passed since Taelani first entered the palace as Namjoon’s concubine. 

Eighteen years since you learned the truth about your husband and his family, and full of questions and curious for more information, had kept him up the following nights with all of your thoughts until he lay you down and forced you quiet with his lips on yours and his hands seeking other truths between your legs. 

Now, you are a mother to twins—at least, as far as the kingdom was concerned. Your daughter, Seojin, is truly yours and Namjoon’s, a miracle that even Namjoon’s family had not anticipated. Due to most everyone else in his family waiting until they had chosen a mate and had kids to turn, this was an unprecedented event. And Seojin’s twin brother, Jiho—though not truly siblings—but instead cousins, is the answer to keeping the family line on the throne. 

Queen Mother Sindeok had hidden away, where she bore a son and then quietly returned to the palace with you and Namjoon, cradling a secret that only your family knew. A secret that she bundled tightly for the trip back and handed into your arms a mere day before your Seojin was born.  

By royal decree, the news of the double royal birth spread across the lands, and in short, the Queen Mother’s pregnancy had never happened. Instead, Taelani, beloved Queen Consort to King Namjoon, had given birth to twins—a boy and a girl, heirs to a prosperous future. Together, the twins' birth was celebrated by the populace and secured the power that Namjoon’s grandfather had cultivated over the years, maintaining their hold of the throne their line refused to give up.

The birth of your twins also made sure that your father no longer tried to challenge the current rulers for power over the people. The Chief Councilor must have immediately withdrawn his money and support of the rival factions, as their attacks and their false propaganda dwindled to almost nonexistence. 

With the belief that his grandson would take the throne, as the twin who was born minutes before his sister, your father seemed to think better of his past alliances, and instead made to be a better grandfather to them than he was a father to you, in the hopes that his name would be next to theirs in historical records as a formative familial link to the throne. 

You still watched over his actions, even now, knowing that he may no longer hunger for the death of the emperor, but that his gusto for power and manipulation was never far from the surface. You and Namjoon had raised your children well though, teaching them to think for themselves and avoid manipulation tactics from even the most persuasive of grandparents. 

At eighteen, Seojin showed no outward signs of her father’s affliction, but for a glint in her eyes that she could do more, hear more, see more, smell more—than her human counterparts. Her brother Jiho was smart, empathetic, and set to be a great ruler, carrying on the legacy his forefathers set before him.

It may have been a little over a decade since you joined your husband in an everlasting life, but you have never regretted that decision, not even for a moment. Standing next to him as he pens his speech for Jiho’s coronation, you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair as you stare out at the full moon, large against the backdrop of the stars and dark clouds. 

“My love, come to bed,” you suggest, wanting to lay with him, to embrace him, to love him.

“One more line and I’ll join you,” he promises with a smirk. He still looks the same, jovial eyes crescenting as his lips quirk up at you. “Strip, and I’ll make sure to keep you warm.”

His lustful gaze watches as you step backwards towards the bed, eyes staying on his face.

A few moments later, he replaces his quill and caps the ink, fingers tugging at his pants to loosen them from his waist. Your giggles carry with the evening breeze as it whistles quietly through the slats in the window, rustling the parchment Namjoon was writing on and drying the last lines he had written. 

“And for our country, with Yi Jiho as emperor, this nation will finally have all we have fought for: strength, power, and a promising future.”

And for you and Namjoon, your sacrifices eighteen years ago continue the legacy of a kingdom destined to be ruled by a lineage of

eternal reign.

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2024. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[surielstea]

Ensnaring Marks

Eris week day one: Bargains

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Rhys’ sister!Reader

Summary: Reader and Azriel decide to take part in Eris’s coronation, only to end up in one of the new High Lords traps.

Warnings: Mentions of UTM | petnames (bunny, love) | reader is lonely

A.Note: I wrote this last year as a one off so it might be a bit… well, not good, but I promise the rest of the week will be better 🙏😭

4.3k words.

I sat on the hardwood floors, leaning against the base of the couch, Azriel seated behind me as he flitted through a chapter book. I had my head back on the cushion, waiting for his chapter to end so he could finally give me attention, this silence was beginning to grow deafening.

I stared at the elegant panes of his face, his sharp nose and his hazel eyes scanning the words on the pages rapidly. My eyes trail down to his hands that clutched the book, sickening scars trailing from his wrist down to his fingertips. The white marring was a pattern I've memorized, trailing my hands along the grooves when I got too anxious and occasionally a small kiss to his knuckles to remind him that he shouldn't be ashamed of them.

"You're staring." He grumbled and a small grin formed on my face as shadows curled through my hair.

"You make it hard not to, Shadowsinger." I tease, it was no secret that Azriel was the most attractive of the three Illyrian brothers, no matter what your type was— Azriel was quite the stunner. He closed his book and put it on the armrest beside him.

"What is it that you want then?" He arched a manicured brow and my grin widened as I pulled myself up onto the couch, swinging my legs over his lap as I lounged back.

"I'd like you to tell me something," I ask as shadows come to swirl around my ankles. "Tell you what?" He mutters confused.

"Anything you want, what's on your mind?" I tilt my head and he closes his eyes like he needs to sift through his thoughts before he can answer.

"Beron died." He muttered and I rolled my eyes.

"Old news." I wave him off, the event happening weeks ago.

"Eris's coronation is tomorrow. He asked me to come." Azriel crosses his arms over his chest like the invitation was a threat of some sort. My smile dropped.

"Will you?" My brows knot together and he gives me an incredulous look.

"He invited everyone from the inner circle, but it felt more like a mockery than anything," Azriel grumbled. He knew that talking bad about the people of the Court of Dreams got under my skin more than anything and I had a newfound urge to choke out a certain redhead.

"We should go." My eyes light up and he looks at me like I'm insane, but stays silent, looking down at my feet in his lap. "If he invited us as a joke, we should go." I snort and he shakes his head in protest. "It'll be funny! Not to mention the drama it'd stir." I giggle mischievously and Azriel gives me eyes that were a full lecture on their own. "Oh don't act like you're not a total gossip, shadows tell you every secret you want to know." I kick his thigh playfully and he grumbles under his breath as I remember the nights we would share wine and converse over whoever's tittle-tattle that shadows informed him on.

"I don't gossip, I tell the truth." He states and I snort at the ridiculous claim.

"You need a refresher on the definition then because you've just proven yourself to be a pot stirrer Az." I pat his shoulder and he shrugs me off. We stay quiet for a moment, my hum of laughter filling the silence as he mulls over my ludicrous idea.

"Okay." He nods and I raise a brow.

"Okay?" I ask.

"Okay, we can go to his coronation." Azriel hummed and I blinked, confused as to why in the hell he'd ever agree to such things.

As if he'd seen the shock on my face he supplied a reason, "I have to go there to talk about contracts and alliances the day after so why not just arrive a day early?" Azriel poses and I smile excitedly. "This isn't just some ploy to get me out of the house?" I ask with a chuckle but there is some truth to it.

Ever since Rhys left for Under The Mountain I haven't quite been the same. I didn't leave the house unless I was with another, the whispers on the street about the High Princess. Those long hours spent with Keir in the court of nightmares, hosting it while my brother was away. Hating who I was then, cold and distant, both inside the court of nightmares and dreams. It was rare I got out, much less left courts. I didn't like the rumors, the talk on the streets, the theories. Most of it was idle talk, some of it had truth— and it was that minuscule portion that scared me the most.

"Yeah, I'd like that." I nod and he offers me a gentle smile, slightly forced but comforting nonetheless.

"Do you want to invite the others?" He asks and I take a moment to think about it, but decided that if Mor knew she'd be pissed, Rhys wouldn't go, Amren doesn't care, and I'm pretty sure Cassian would rather chop his own hand off. "No," I shake my head. "Just you and I could burn that court to rubble." I intone, crossing my arms like we'll need to do such things. and he raises a brow— that apparently intrigues him. "Joking." I smack his shoulder and a warm grin came to his face, genuine.

"Are you?" He narrows his gaze on me and I look away mischievously.

"I wouldn't mind seeing the prince's face if I took his court." I give him a gleeful smile, something like pride shines in his eyes. "I wouldn't mind seeing the prince's face in general," I grumble afterward, and the pride he held swapped for something of the opposite. "It's not my fault he's hot!" I throw a decorative pillow at him which he swerves with an ease I envied.

"It's your fault you find him attractive." He pushes my feet from his lap dramatically and I giggle at his childish behavior.

"You have to admit, he could turn you." I tease with a smirk and he glares at me. "If he didn't open his loud mouth he'd be perfect." I sigh dreamily, leaning back into the couch, utilizing the entire space as he gets up to put his book away.

"That's always the problem with the men I date. So pretty, until they start speaking." I huff, standing up and following him to the bookcase like one of his own shadows. "Maybe I should go for the quiet ones." I hum. "I ought to practice on you." I wrap my arms around his bicep and he bristles, lightly shoving me off as I cackle.

"You're not funny." He mumbles, walking over to his desk where he has unfinished work to complete.

"Don't act like I'm some sort of monster for teasing. That's all you and Cass do to me." I roll my eyes as I watch him sit on his stool. "You actually get the ladies, it's easier to joke about when it isn't true." I sling an arm around his shoulder and this time he doesn't shove me away.

"You would get males if you left the house." He grumbled in retort and an idea blooms in my head. "That's the idea for going to the coronation." I grin and he grants me a sidelong glance. "Is that why we're going?" He asks and I shake my head. "No!" I squeeze his bicep. "We're good allies, meaning we're there to support him," I argue and he huffs. He could never say no to me, never has. "And also admire his perfect face." I quietly mutter but it's nothing the Shadowsinger wouldn't notice.

"Go pack your bag." He shakes me off of his arm. "Just for one night. We'll find a hotel on the border." He hums and I nod, following his instructions with a new task rather than talking his ear off like usual.

——

It was the first Friday of the month, meaning that family dinner was afoot. Morrigan had spilled her glass of wine all over the Shadowsinger in a dramatic movement of her hands so he had gone to go change, meaning I was subject to sit in the center of the dining room surrounded by couples ogling at each other, they were practically drooling down their chins— and adding wine into the mix, gods it reeked of arousal.

"Horny bastards," I mutter, standing up and throwing my napkin down onto my plate. I bunch my skirts in my hands and make my way toward the hallway.

"Sister! C'mon!" Rhys races after me, following me all the way to the foyer of the large house.

"What?" I look at him confused.

"Won't you stay for dessert?" He says hopefully and I twist my lips to the side.

"I don't know Rhys, I'm tired." I sigh out and his eyes soften.

"You're always tired." His voice was a whisper his words had my feet bolted to where they stood.

"I trained with Cass this morning, I'm actually tired," I stress and he nods in understanding.

"Let me at least take you home." He reaches his hand out.

"I'm fine." I shake my head.

"Please." He pushes his hand toward me further and I look down at it. "Alright." I accept, sliding my hand into his, mostly out of pity.

He doesn't waste time in winnowing us straight to the house of wind, my feet planted solidly on the marble tiling. "I miss you." He uttered and I looked up at him, detaching our hands.

"I miss you too." I offer him a small smile but it doesn't quite reach my eyes the way he wanted it to.

"I wish you'd come by more often." Something in his violet eyes glazed over and my heart cracked.

"It's hard." I rub my hands together anxiously before deciding it best to just cross my arms. "I should be happy." A frown forms on my face and I don't have it in myself to maintain eye contact. "I don't know what's wrong with me. Something's just, missing." I shrug when he doesn't say anything.

"Something or someone?" He prods and I glare up at him.

"My love life isn't our biggest problem." I shake my head.

"But it is bringing you trouble, therefore it's bringing me grief." He mirrors my stance and crosses his own arms.

"Well that's not something we can just fix, it's an internal problem." I muster the courage to look into his familiar violet eyes. The same color as our father's own but held all the love of his mother's gaze.

"I want to be there for Nyx, for you and Feyre too. But I'm selfish and It's difficult for me to be surrounded by something I want for myself." I confess and he releases a soft sigh, then pulls me in for another hug.

"We'll figure it out, promise." He reassured. I allow myself to sink into the warmth of his hug, how similar it was to our mothers. I nod and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he wraps his wings around us and cocooning the both of us in our own little world of darkness.

"Thank you, Rhys," I whisper. "Feels good to talk again." We haven't really said anything to each other beyond small talk after Nyx's birth, and that's nearly a year ago now. I haven't been the same since the war and found it hard to open up since. It's been a long while since he even hugged me.

"I'll see you again soon, okay?" I back away from the embrace and he nods. "Sooner than next month's dinner?" He hopes with an easy grin coming to his face and I nod confidently.

"Sooner than next month's dinner," I assure.

"Good." He smiles before walking towards the edge of the opening where he winnowed us.

"Night, Sister." He flares his wings outward. "Goodnight brother!" I wave him off and he dives off the side of the house, I'd be worried about him if I didn't hear the steady beats of his wings a moment later.

I release a long sigh and retreat to my room.

————

I stood in front of my body-length mirror, gazing at the gown I wore. It was a deep blue as an ode to my court, I always wore colors of the night when visiting other courts, and today was no exception. The gown itself was beautiful, soft silk material that moved like water. It had a dipping neckline with curtaining sleeves that hung off my shoulders, the excess fabric draping from my back in two long pieces all the way to the floor where the rest of the dress dragged. The skirt was one long piece but had a cone-like figure, excess material swooping along the sides and attaching to my waist, forming a flattering silhouette. The dress was modest in cleavage though had a long slit ripping up all the way to my hip, the toe of my heel peaking out at the base.

I was putting in a pair of silver dangling earrings when Azriel made his appearance known at my doorway. He released a low whistle and I smiled, turning around to face him. "How do I look?" I ask him. "Like the princess you are." He hums, pushing off the frame and extending his scarred hand towards me. "Do they know we're leaving?" I ask, grabbing my bag. "I don't think they'll notice." He shrugs and I slip my hand into his. Shadows twine up our connected arms and I smile at the temporary binding. "Ready?" He asks and I nod with a grin.

He steps into the shadows and pulls me along with him. I squeeze his hand tighter as we walk through the abyss of darkness. It takes a moment to know if I was even awake or not, but by the time I regain consciousness of where I was we were already back in the real world and now in the autumn court.

"I still don't understand how you do that." A shiver runs down my spine and I let go of his hand. "Here," He takes my overnight bag then it disappears into the shadows. Apart of me wonders where it's gone but I know he wouldn't tell if I asked. "Come on." His hand slips back into mine as he pulls me towards the venue of the autumn lords coronation.

At the entrance, we were greeted by two guards with bright red hair and faces that were nearly identical. Eris was a fool to think these two men could hold off Azriel alone. "Court and name?" The guard with a clipboard asked and I rolled my eyes at the extravagance of it, this isn't a wedding. "Night Court. I'm probably titled the Shadowsinger." Azriel hums, his hand squeezing mine a little tighter as the guard flips through the list, going all the way to the bottom where our section resided. "You're here, and the girl?" He glances at me carelessly. "I'm the princess of night, I don't know what the lord would put me down as." I crease my brows and lean over to peer down at the clipboard. Spotting the names put down as high lord of night, high lady, lord of bloodshed— and "Bunny." He glances up at me and my stomach twists. "Section B, seats four and five. Proceed." The two guards step aside. "Enjoy, Bunny." The other guard teases me with a malicious smile and it takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.

"I forgot how much I hate Eris." I huff.

"I forgot he calls you that." Azriel chuckles and I playfully bumped his shoulder. "He clearly doesn't know that bunnies are animals of Spring not Night," I grumble, picking apart the idiocracy of it.

"What sort of a nickname is owl though?" He defends and I roll my eyes, continuing my march down the long corridor, chairs passing each side of me.

"We're awfully close to the front," I mutter as Azriel sits down in the seat we were told to. Second front row and nearly center.

"Eris's motives are always a mystery." He sighed as I sat next to him.

"Maybe we shouldn't have come," I mutter. "I mean, is this rude of us?" I whisper.

"He's the one that invited us." He shrugs.

"And it was funny at the time, maybe we should go." I offer but before he can reply the music is starting and people immediately settle. Theres nobody to the right side of me, but people sit beside Azriel. Meaning the rest of my family was supposed to be lined along my right.

Royal coronations aren't nearly as fun as mating ceremonies. The best part of them was admiring the venue and all the dresses others came in. I was nearly asleep until Eris finally came out, on the dais with a priestess.

He wore a dark green tunic, nearly black. His dark red hair was stark against the cream-colored background of the manor walls. His golden eyes were practically glowing with power and I was intent on staring right at them as the ceremony went. The golden irises trailed over the crowd, across his mother, Lucien, and his other brothers who were some distance apart, a group of advisors who used to work under Beron huddled in the back, and then finally me. Our eyes locked right when the golden leaf crown was placed atop of his head and I swore it was pure power that shone in his eyes as he became High Lord. Finally high lord.

He didn't tear his gaze from mine. Not when he accepted the crown and definitely not when he sat on that throne, the one that looked as if it could swallow me whole but when he sat in it he was the one to dominate it, an absurd amount of manspreading at play as he lounged back in it. The flawless picture of a careless king.

A smile curved his lips as everyone stood to cheer. Azriel and I stood, but we did not clap, and he didn't look away even for a second as everyone bowed, and I kept my chin held high.

——

The chairs were cleared out and something like a party began, an extravagant ball morphed from a coronation. A long line of men women and children alike filed down the side of the wall, all leading up to the dais where Eris sat and answered any questions the civilians might have had. Who knew the next time they'd get the chance to speak with a high lord?

"We should probably go," I say, sipping from my wine glass. "I wanted to say something to him but there's not a chance I'm waiting in that line." I huff and Azriel hums in reply, sipping from his own whiskey. The autumn court had the best liquor and the best food. The court was always in harvest and the vineyards were always in fresh bloom. I would visit all the time if it weren't for the male that now ruled this place.

"We can go to the inn if you're feeling tired, if not I'd like to eat more." He plucks a grape from a bowl and pops it into his mouth. "I'm going to find a bathroom or whatever place I can be alone in for a moment." I excuse myself and he nods, bidding me a goodbye.

I failed at finding a bathroom but after trying a few doors I managed to find an empty room, the one for holding the guests' coats, but it was quiet nonetheless.

I release a deep sigh and shuffle through the coats, curiously passing time until the Shadowsinger is ready to go. The door of the closet swings open and I freeze as someone enters, getting caught for stealing when I was actually just hiding would be mighty embarrassing.

But I wasn't met with a guard I was met with a worn-out high lord, his head back against the door with the top of his shirt buttons unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. "Running from your own party?" I scoffed and he startled, whipping his head to me.

"Hello, Bunny." He gave a foxlike grin.

"Don't call me that." I cross my arms but his smirk only broadens.

"It's fitting," He leans closer and flicks my nose. I flinch back but there's a lot less room in this closet with both of us in here. "Is that why you call me it then?" I stumble back as he comes closer.

"Do you know what a fox's favorite thing to hunt is?" He questions and I take another step back, my body pressing flush against the cold wall.

"I don't know, mice?" I raise a brow.

"Hm, would you like me to call you mouse instead?" His long legs close the distance between us in one stride and I'm looking right up at him. He reaches towards me and brushes his hand along the column of my throat, his thumb coming to my bottom lip.

"No," I swat his hand away but it comes right back to where it was.

"Because you're a bunny, and you're all alone with me in here, caught in my snare." His smile is malicious if not a little seductive. "I want a bargain with you." He hummed, his eyes flashing something like mischief in his eyes.

"You have nothing I want." I cross my arms in front of me.

"I have plenty of what you want." His thumb caresses against my jaw. "Your little family needs my alliance to succeed in their peace treaty," He hums knowingly. "Tamlin will go down in a feeble attempt at a fight but he'll give in. But me? With my army and skill set, it'd be war." He purrs and my skin alights with his warm touch. We would win, with the Night Courts allies we would win. But war means death no matter what, and that's the last thing we need. If I can avoid that and make sure he stays true to his word with a bargain I was willing to risk anything.

"What do you want from me?" Bargaining with Eris is tricky. He's beyond smart so any loophole he could find in whatever I make him do must be eliminated.

"I want you," His long finger trails from my ear to my lips where his thumb swipes over the bottom one.

"Me?" I scoff with a raised brow.

"Yes, you." He nods.

"Specify," I command him.

"I want you at my side for three days a week, and I'll sign your brother's little peace treaty." He nods, and my stomach drops to the floor. To give up half my freedom to ensure war won't break out— if he even would. I debate my options. I need Rhys or Amren to make this decision for me. I try to think of what they would do, and how they would approach the situation.

I know deep down they'd both sacrifice themselves and a lot more to ensure the safety of our family. So I think about my terms. "Why?" I ask.

"Does it matter?" He hums with a smile. "It's a yes or no." He shrugs.

"So if I agree to this, you'll never call out a war against my court?" I ask. He nods. "You'll sign the peace treaty and stay true to it?" My brow raises and he dips his head again. "You won't hurt any of them?" My voice is a little more soft. His nod repeats. I go quiet, thinking it over.

"Three days a week, whatever days you want." He hums like that gives me any sort of flexibility. "But you have to be by my side." He crosses his muscular arms that strained beneath his tunic.

"Deal," I mutter and his eyes glow in the dark of the closet. I gasp as ink begins to carve up my thigh. I move it out from my skirt where the slit is, revealing a deep maroon color swirling from the back of my knee all the way up and along to my inner thigh. I've never seen a bargain's ink another color than black, I suppose the cauldron liked the high lord. His pale hand came to my golden skin and brushed over the new tattoo, right along my bare thigh. When I realized what he was doing I moved my leg back under my skirt. He looks back up to me with a smirk curving his lips.

"Your neck," I reach up and brush the back of my hand along the new ink forming there, disappearing beneath his shirt. "Mine is a lot easier to hide." I hum.

"Who said I was going to hide it?" He arches a perfectly manicured brow. "I want yours on display when you're in my court," He grabs my wrist before I can pull my hand away from his neck.

"You're a fool if you think I'm ever letting it show." I snarl.

He smirks. "When your brother asks about where you got it, what you bargained to earn it, what will you tell him?"

I swallow thickly, keeping eye contact with his golden irises.

His smile widens when I don't reply. "I'll see you tomorrow, Princess," He mocks a bow and I narrow my eyes on him, about to retort but— cauldron-willed, bargains were unbreakable. I had no other choice. "Tomorrow," I whisper softly, mostly to myself but I know he heard it. How in the hell was I ever going to explain this mark to Rhys?

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[sunderwight]

SVSSS AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates as usual, except it's to find that his system is freaking out because it's been several years since Luo Binghe was supposed to show up at the sect trials to start his plot but so far there's been no sign of the protagonist, the Protagonist Halo Features aren't working correctly, and there's another transmigrator who arrived earlier, somehow hacked into the system, and erased its ability to track or punish him before disappearing into parts unknown (it was Airplane).

So Shen Yuan, now Shen Qingqiu, reasons that anyone who was trying to interfere with the plotline had either rescued or killed Luo Binghe while he was still young. Hoping for the former (but braced for the latter) he uses what scant knowledge the novel provided about Luo Binghe's origins, plus his new skills and some of the sect resources available, to track down Luo Binghe.

Turns out, in this version of events, some "random benefactor" showed up and gave Luo Binghe's mother some life-saving medicine. So she didn't die. But her health remained poor and Binghe never left her side, instead doing as much of her work as he was able to. So teenaged Binghe is basically a seemingly average, run-of-the-mill servant.

Shen Qingqiu is like "well this is pretty easy to fix actually" and approaches Luo Binghe as a wise immortal master type, says he sees Binghe's potential, and offers to take him on as a disciple. Luo Binghe is thrilled and kind of gobsmacked, but won't abandon his mother. Not a problem! Shen Qingqiu figured he wouldn't, so he offers to make arrangements to have Mama Luo comfortably set up in one of the villages at the base of the mountain. Sure, having her be alive and letting Binghe visit and write to her would be a deviation from the usual tragic backstory, but not a huge one! Shen Qingqiu is ready to mark this problem solved (and start dealing with all the other problems it creates for him) but the system is weirdly unsatisfied.

Turns out that even though Shen Qingqiu has found Luo Binghe (and a few discreet tests confirm that he has some sort of seal in place, and what are the odds of some other random orphan found on the Luo river, raised by a kindly-but-ill laundress, and named "Luo Binghe" exists in the same region?), the system still can't detect the Protagonist Halo Feature. The stupid glitching thing can't recognize the protagonist without it, so it keeps insisting that Shen Qingqiu locate him, even when he's kneeling right there and performing the tea ceremony for his initiation!

It's really annoying!

Especially since this means that the system won't actually safeguard Luo Binghe from harm. Which means it's up to Shen Qingqiu to make sure that his little white lotus disciple lives long enough to become the ruler of everything. This is easier said than done! Between the skinner demon side quest, and the demonic invasion, and various other side missions to build up the protagonist's potential, Luo Binghe is constantly getting into trouble and Shen Qingqiu keeps getting poisoned or injured trying to drag him back out of it in one piece!

Matters come to a head at the Immortal Alliance Conference (as they so often do). Shen Qingqiu is not planning to yeet Binghe, of course. Like this there's no guarantee of survival, and the system isn't even demanding it of him (because it still doesn't recognize the protagonist), but it seems to be demanding they turn up for the event anyway. Shen Qingqiu is a nervous wreck and fighting the urge to hover, because as expected, there is still a demonic invasion. Except this time Mobei Jun is there, and so is a mysterious cloaked figure who seems to be searching for something.

As soon as Shen Qingqiu claps eyes on the figure, the system chimes happily.

Protagonist Halo successfully located!

Turns out, part of Airplane's hacks involved stealing the halo and reassigning it to himself. Except that means that narrative destiny still wants him to hit certain plot beats, so he's been busily conquering the demonic realms -- in MBJ's name of course -- and mostly doing the bare minimum to satisfy the requirements while evading the system's efforts to regain contact. But now he's gotta go get Xin Mo somehow, except the minute Shen Qingqiu spots him so does the system.

The system, which immediately reassigns Airplane as the protagonist, and orders Shen Qingqiu to throw him into the Endless Abyss.

Which is like, better this rando than Binghe, so okay, but Mobei Jun is not cooperating plus the mysterious hooded stranger also seems pretty resistant to the idea (Airplane is NOT a heavenly demon, Protagonist Halo or no he's still actually a relatively squishy human cultivator, and he does not want to go into the hell pit), and between one thing and another Airplane manages to fall int the Abyss with Luo Binghe.

Not ideal. Which is to say, Shen Qingqiu is emotionally devastated and almost convinced that Luo Binghe has died for real and that Mysterious Halo Thief is going to come out somehow in a few years and chop off all his limbs, and Mobei Jun is extremely distressed because the man he intends to marry just fell into the Endless Abyss, and that seems like a difficult thing to somehow Evil Vizier your way out of.

The other peak lords arrive to keep Mobei Jun from killing Shen Qingqiu, and so everyone just kind of despairingly returns to their separate corners of the universe to wait and see what will happen.

Meanwhile, down in the Endless Abyss, Luo Binghe has unlocked his heavenly demon blood and is now constantly trying to kill Airplane. But thanks to the transferred protagonist halo it just doesn't work. The system interferes and creates a last-minute unlikely survival route for Airplane every time. They eventually reach an impasse where Airplane can't die but only Luo Binghe is strong enough to actually fight most of the creatures in the Abyss, and all this "fighting" between the two of them (generous description) keeps attracting big monsters.

So, Airplane offers a deal. He knows things about this place. Including how to get out. If Luo Binghe helps him fend off the monsters, then he'll help Luo Binghe survive and escape as well. He even offers to help him get away from Shen Qingqiu and make a place for himself in the demon realms! Luo Binghe tries to kill him again for that, so he drops that line of attempted bribery really quick and switches tactics. He knows more things! Things about Shen Qingqiu's past! Secrets he'll share if Luo Binghe helps him!

Is this the start of a beautiful new friendship?

No.

Turns out Luo Binghe and Airplane have exactly the correct combination of shared traits and differences to find one another mostly intolerable. But not intolerable to the point of not being able to manage teeth-clenched teamwork. By the time they get out of the Endless Abyss, Luo Binghe never wants to hear about cup noodles or tax collection or Mobei Jun's tits ever again, and Airplane feels much the same about anything at all to do with Shen Qingqiu (and either Shen Qingqiu is a fellow transmigrator now or else Luo Binghe has inserted a shockingly vivid delusion over the scum villain he wrote). But they're both alive and in joint custody of an evil sword.

Unfortunately, due to the bickering and the complexities of Shang Qinghua's sketchy memory for his own plots, it takes them even longer to get out of the Abyss than it took PIDW Luo Binghe to manage on his own.

And, uh. Well.

They don't find things in great shape, considering how they left them...

[mmgwritings]

RUIN ME, RUIN US

Characters: Kaz Brekker / Dreg ! Reader

Prompts: “I… I want you to touch me,” Kaz admits, while staring up at the ceiling, "There" cheeks reddening in an increasing show of embarrassment. (prompt created by @dumplingsjinson)

Warnings: Smut; Canon divergence; Obviously, I didn't proofread again; Masturbation; Oral Sex; NSFW; Really Long Text Sorry!

The streets were packed with people. Dazzled tourists, ravkan peasants, privileged and neglected children fought for space in the alleys with merchants, prostitutes and pickpockets - all the same, all too happy with the promises of the holiday. Nachtspel was an event during the Kerch year, in Ketterdam the party lasted for more than a week if you looked for the right club to spend money on frivolous pleasures.

This year people commented that the festival would last a month due to the visit of King Nikolai of Ravka, a tall man with a sarcastic smile who every now and then Y/N would bump into in the Slat - a place where kings didn't belong, that much she knew... at least not kings with a good reputation. The visit of the Ravkans was a promise of prosperity, King Nikolai and his entourage were in Ketterdam to bargain a spice trade line with the Council of Tides, a way of linking Ravka, Kerch and Shu Han in a triple alliance.

But it's interesting to think that King Nikolai is smart enough to also bargain with the real monarch of Kerch: Kaz Brekker. Y/N had not yet been in Ketterdam years ago when the Fold was destroyed, when a certain Ravkan prince needed the help of a small gang of thieves. But she heard about all this from Jesper, the Dregs' sharpshooter and part of Kaz's small retinue: the Crows. She also heard about the former king of Ketterdam, Pekka Rollins, and how Kaz made him beg, how he took everything from Rollins: clubs, indentures, friends in politics. Everything.

Well, almost everything. Kaz Brekker remains a mystery.

Y/N met Kaz a few days after arriving in Ketterdam, when he walked into the teashop she tended to. He needed a new waitress for the Crow Club, a seemingly simple job if the additional skill of the position wasn't listening to the conversations of some customers. She accepted, and here she is three years later. And she's dangerously involved with Kaz.

It all started very simply, they barely realized that they were spending too much time together. Y/N in the lounge, taking care of drinks or delivering envelopes to Kaz's office, or sharing a quiet living room in the Slat after everyone went to sleep.

One thing led to another over the years. A whispered conversation after the two drank too much, a longing look exchanged as they left for their posts at the Crow Club, a sleepless night on the building's terrace. But the moment they really realized, admitted, actually, having feelings for each other was when they realized that they needed each other.

For Y/N, their relationship was experienced at two peaks: the calm and comfort of knowing that they both loved each other and the turbulence and insecurity when dealing with Kaz's traumas. Y/N saw the way Jesper and Wylan, Nina and Matthias' relationship bothered Kaz, he wanted to be able to offer Y/N the same level of intimacy.

And that's why they've fought countless times. Silent wars where Kaz reluctantly tried to break up and Y/N pretended not to hear her boyfriend's stupid arguments. When Kaz tried to get away from her in vain, because Y/N always found a way to bother his heart with smiles, jokes and words of affection.

Kaz knew Y/N was patient. She was the best in his world. But, he knew that he needed to become a better man for her. What kind of relationship is this where he couldn't touch her without almost throwing up, fainting?

Y/N realized, just like she notices all the little things that make Kaz human, that he was trying to be more physical. Sometimes he would touch her hand gently, his fingertips gliding across her palm as if she were made of the most fragile glass. Other times he sat next to her on the window sill, too close that she felt his heat. Or when he suddenly decided that they would share the room, the same bed.

That was a difficult moment: Kaz gradually tried to stay close to her, until finally he managed to rest his arm on her throughout the night. But, all of this was done when he was fully dressed. Long-sleeved shirt, thick pants.

The kisses? Impossible. These took longer to go from merely touching lips to touching tongues. Let alone get lost in the moment. A kiss from Y/N would leave Kaz feverish, on the precipice between fainting from anxiety or lust. Sometimes he didn't even know if his trembling hands were a good or bad thing.

But it's over. Kaz, when properly warned, could get carried away. Y/N and Kaz occasionally had make-out sessions, one that left them panting, sweaty and craving for more. Wishing they were like all the other normal people, the ones they heard sighing in the dark alleys when they came back late at night from some mission. Those who occasionally locked themselves in the Crow Club bathroom and came out with a flushed face.

Would today be anything different? Y/N wondered as she went up to her room. Earlier, when she was still in stock at the Crow Club, Kaz spent time with her keeping her company while she counted the products. Y/N could tell he was a little nervous, but she didn't pressure him into saying anything.

So, he finally said a curt "Meet me in the bedroom later" and left for the office before Y/N could ask anything. And here she was, walking into the room and finding the sight of a Kaz Brekker sitting by the window, his eyes vacant into the night.

"Hey, how are you? Where's everyone?" Y/N said, taking off her coat and placing it on the trunk at the foot of the bed. When she arrived at Slat she noticed that it was strangely empty, even for a festival the house always had one or two people in the common rooms.

"Out" muttered Kaz "I gave them the night off." Then he finally looked at Y/N and there was something strange, it was as if he had never seen her in his life, as if he didn't know how to approach her.

"Cool… But, what happened to you? Did you want to tell me something?" Y/N said, approaching him slowly. Kaz sighed and held out his arms, an invitation for her to touch him, to hug him.

Y/N smiled, a gesture mirrored by Kaz, before surrendering to her arms. She was a little shorter than him, barely reaching her shoulders, the perfect height to fit in. Kaz placed a small kiss above her ear, a kiss that ended up trailing to her temple, her cheek, her jaw, the corners of her lips.

And then the famine came. The desire for more, much more. Kaz kissed Y/N's lips, a warm touch. Her hands, which had been clasped behind Kaz's back, moved up to his arms.

And then Kaz's tongue touched Y/N's parted lips strongly, a request, a promise. His tongue was everywhere: first sliding tentatively across her lips, then massaging, then sucking. It was so much more than they'd tried before, Y/N thought, as he nibbled on her bottom lip, pulling her closer into his arms, squeezing as if to make sure she was real.

Y/N didn't need to think much, she didn't want to stop and ask Kaz if everything was okay because, a second later, she felt one of his hands on her ass, groping. They had too many clothes on. Kaz wore a dark, velvety green vest over a white shirt with long sleeves buttoned over the wrist. The pants were black and made of thick material, the ones he usually wears in the invention. Y/N was already wearing a long blouse, the pants she wore were masculine enough to not receive more than two glances from Crow Club customers. But now, she wished there weren't so many layers between them, that the cloths would disappear.

Y/N's hands came up to Kaz's face with a caress, she wanted more than anything to slide her fingers through his hair… so she did, and he allowed it. His kisses were making her dizzy, fervent.

"Kaz," she whispered as he occupied his lips with a new target, her neck. The hands on her ass tensing in search of more, more closeness. "Slow down, Kaz," she protested.

Kaz listened and then stopped, looked at her with dark eyes, his face flushed and his lips red… lips that Y/N would never get tired of kissing. "I want you" he said "I want you to kiss me until you're sick of it, I want everything… more"

Y/N's heart lost a beat and then pulsed quickly. That was the kind of thing he said in her delirium, when she dreamed and woke up wishing she could just embrace the man who slept next to her. What else could she do upon hearing this request? She kissed him like she had never kissed him before, her fingers threading through his hair, down his neck, to his face.

A sloppy kiss because they've never done it before. Hands roaming each other's bodies more than they dared before. Kaz was all hands. Tightly squeezing her ass or reaching up to her waist, pulling her closer.

Then, one of Kaz's hands went to Y/N's hair, deftly removing the ribbon that held the curls in a messy braid, while his other hand went down to her right thigh, lifting her leg slightly so that he could get closer... Saints, she wanted to be able to melt and merge with Kaz.

Y/N could barely breathe between the kisses, Kaz's lips were all she wanted, she wanted them all over her body, for him to mark her. Then he pulled her towards the bed, bumping into the table, tripping over the carpet and laughing a little at his clumsiness.

She sat on the bed and looked at Kaz, her face flushed and a slight smile on her face. The street light that entered the room bathed him in a warm, golden light, Kaz had never seemed more alive than at that moment. He was the most beautiful person Y/N had ever seen in her life. He looked so carefree as he rested one of his knees between Y/N's legs, his hand tenderly caressing her face and brushing away stray strands of hair from the front of her forehead.

"You're so beautiful", Kaz murmured, his lips resting a soft peck on the tip of Y/N's nose.

"I can say the same", said Y/N. Pulling him to the middle of the bed so he was on top of her. "There are so many beautiful things I can tell you now. But none of them compare to you, Kaz Rietveld."

She kissed his cheek, then his nose, his chin, his mouth. Her hand, the one that wasn't busy cupping Kaz's face, slid down his back, feeling the muscles beneath his clothes tense slightly, then, at the base of his spine, she pushed him slowly until their body was pressed together. Too many clothes, Y/N thought.

Kaz must have had the same thought, because he deftly slipped his fingers between the top buttons of Y/N's blouse. Beneath it there was nothing but skin flushed with desire.

Well, they've seen a bit of each other's nudity over the years they've shared a room, but it's never been this explicit. So raw. Kaz's eyes slid over Y/N's breasts, his fingers following his gaze to her nipples, touching tentatively, seeing how far they could both go. When her only response was a sigh of pleasure, Kaz opened the rest of her blouse and clumsily pulled the fabric from her body.

Mouths, hands, sighs, moans. Kaz offered and received caresses as he rested his mouth on Y/N's nipples, his warm tongue sliding, sucking and nibbling mercilessly. Y/N's hands didn't know where to hold on in the material world, they were in his hair, keeping him as close as possible, on his shoulders, on his arms, pulling him for more.

Kaz realized that his favorite sound was her moans. It was a sound that reverberated through his body like an overwhelming storm that made his heart palpitate heavily, that made his brain melt and that somehow, caused a pleasant pressure to rest in his groin.

Y/N was lost, she didn't know she was so sensitive there. Or maybe this is just Kaz's effect, his talent. When his mouth was on her nipples everything was perfect and horrible, she felt out of control, completely at Kaz's mercy.

When he stopped kissing her was the moment she hated him, but when he looked at her with a shy look on her face, Y/N loved him more than anything. What happened? Y/N wanted to ask, but there was no time, Kaz let out a low, guttural sound when he moved over Y/N, she felt, through all the layers of clothes that still separated them, Kaz's cock pressed against her.

A shiver ran up her spine. Y/N kissed him hard, tongue lashing over Kaz's lips, her nails scratching his arms, pulling him, feeling him. A wave of pleasure coursed through her body as her sensitive nipples came into contact with the raised embroidery of Kaz's vest. She opened her legs wider to accommodate him between her and Kaz's hand went to her ass, pulling her towards his crotch.

Suddenly, Y/N pushed Kaz away. Turning his body so she was on top, she then quickly took off her pants. She's sick of so many clothes.

Kaz was in awe, looking at her body as if it were some kind of miracle, as if some saint was descending from heaven with an offer too good to be true. Or like a demon, leading him to a path of no return. For the first time in his life he felt nothing bad happening, no repulsion, no aversion at the thought of touching someone. He just wanted more from her, wanted to take everything from her, touch her everywhere, but more than anything, he wanted her to touch him.

Their relationship was always smooth, they never talked about sex or about anything other than kisses, but they both wanted the same feeling of fulfillment that all other couples had. So, it was not without shyness that Kaz, completely vulnerable to Y/N, looked at her with pious eyes and pleaded.

"I... I want you to touch me," Kaz admits, while staring up at the ceiling, "There" cheeks reddening in an increasing show of embarrassment.

It was selfish of him to ask that. It was malicious, negligent, narcissistic, asking for pleasure when she was the one who should be adored. But Kaz was never much for bending, he was never pious.

Little did he know that it was what Y/N wanted most.

She smiled and kissed Kaz, her light fingers opening the buttons of his pants, slipping down to his cock. The feeling was very different from what she had imagined, Kaz was warm, soft, firm and… big. Very.

Kaz let out a strangled sound, his hands that rested on her waist fluttered slightly. "Everything is fine?" she asked, the movements of her hand stopped completely, but she didn't remove it.

"Yes," he sighed, closing his eyes in pleasure.

Y/N then moved her hand slightly up and down, gently squeezing the base, sliding the tip of her thumb over the tip of his dick. Feeling the cum spread in his hand. Kaz was discreet, he was trying not to get carried away, she realized, but she could hear the light moans that escaped his lips, she could tell that he was really enjoying it when he tensed his jaw, when he squeezed her ass.

Daring the limits, Y/N lowered Kaz's pants further, finally seeing him completely. It was definitely not what she had imagined. Kaz was very thick, the tip was a dark pink color that glistened with cum and had some prominent veins. She wondered what it would feel like in her mouth.

When Y/N gave Kaz a peck on the crotch, just above the pubic hair line, she looked at him as if asking if she could continue. His eyes were moist, as if it was a difficult task to contain all of his impulses.

“Please,” he begged, one hand caressing Y/N’s cheek. "Please don't stop" he moaned.

She then tried putting just the tip of his dick in her mouth, her tongue testing the taste of his cum, then, tentatively, she saw how much it all fit.

It wasn't much. She didn't have that much experience, she couldn't take his entire dick in her mouth without feeling like she might choke. So, she took turns sucking and licking, from the base to the tip, then, when she saw that he liked it, she held his balls and massaged them lightly. But she never stopped moving her hand in a tempting gesture.

Kaz was getting carried away. When he became very impatient with Y/n's slow movements he begged to be rough, when he felt her tongue passing over the tip, sucking, and looking at him, he let the moans, previously low, sound at ease. Damn anyone who listens.

Please, please, please, he said. Hip thrusting, his dick entering her mouth even more. Beg, Y/N wanted to say, beg for more and maybe I'll let you cum, fill my mouth with it, let you see how you ruin me.

So, when she felt his hip thrusts become more sloppy, when his moans were lost between his panting, Y/N sucked hard on Kaz's cock and felt, in the back of her throat, his cum pooling on her tongue, sliding down her chin.

When his orgasm ended, he was panting and feverish, his hair messy, beads of sweat sliding down his forehead, his cheeks pink. He was a beautiful sight. He was a beautiful mess.

As for Y/N, she was strangely shy under Kaz's longing gaze, feeling cum slide down her chin and drip onto her breasts. "Beautiful" Kaz said, standing up and placing a sloppy kiss on her lips, his tempting tongue lashing into her mouth, both of them tasting him.

"All mine", he whispered, as he pulled her to saddle him. Y/N felt his dick brush against her pussy. "And I want all of you. I want you to ruin me, ruin us."