#eye patch morty

[lumenemporium]

February it’s a difficult month: your resolutions might be harder to achieve than it sounded in your mind, and you want results by the end of 2025’s first month. But improvement is not a straight line. It’s more like a roller coaster, for a bit. Stick to your resolutions, I know you can get your sh1t together. Get it all together and put it in a backpack, all your sh1t. So it’s together. And also check out Dmitrii Legoshin's amazing art on Redbubble if you want this evil design 🔥 Take care of yourself my little Mortys and Morticias 💛 (and yes, the yellow words are references to Pocket Mortys abilities. Because I have an IQ of 400, nope, sorry 500. I’m too smart to remember. The highest IQ ever, you know.) 💫🛸✨

[msc137]

Do you want me to kill him? - @eye-patch-dude

maybe just. lightly maim him.

[nerdyprudesteenrick]

I'm @eye-patch-dude's Rick. Evil Rick,that's me. I'm pissed off that I'm dead. uh....fuck you Stephanie,fuck you Grace,and Fuck you Max. And fuck Hatchetfield high. And fuck Morty. All Mortys. And ricks. Fuck everyone. Grrr. Ran by @barnacleboy122

OOC STUFF

It's Richie Lipschitz from NPMD but Teen Rick,and then it's all the evil Morty stuff happens after he died. Like,Evil Morty turns his corpse into a robot,but everything else is pretty much the same. Yeah.

This is his design.

[j-m-c-arts]

Evil Morty

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Stages of Decomposition

The decomposition process occurs in several stages following death:

Pallor mortis

Algor mortis

Rigor mortis

Cadaveric spasm

Lividity

Putrefaction

Decomposition

Skeletonization

PALLOR MORTIS

The first stage of death.

Occurs once blood stops circulating in the body.

The cessation of an oxygenated blood flow to the capillaries beneath the skin causes the deceased to pale in appearance.

In non-Caucasians, the pallor may appear to develop an unusual hue; the skin will lose any natural lustre and appears more waxen.

Occurs quite quickly, within about 10 minutes after death.

ALGOR MORTIS

The cooling of the body after death.

The cooling process will be influenced by many factors, including the deceased’s clothing, or whether they are covered with bed linen such as blankets or duvets.

The body will typically cool to the ambient room temperature, but this alters if there is heating in the room or if there is a constant draught cooling the body.

RIGOR MORTIS

Can occur between 2 and 6 hours after death.

Factors including temperature can greatly affect this.

Caused by the muscles partially contracting, and the lack of aerobic respiration means that the muscles cannot relax from the contraction, leaving them tense, subsequently resulting in the stiffening we associate with rigor mortis.

This stage typically begins in the head, starting with the eyes, mouth, jaw and neck, and progresses right through the body.

The process is concluded approximately 12 hours after death (although, again, certain variables may occur) and lasts between 24 and 72 hours depending on circumstances.

Contrary to popular belief, rigor mortis is not a permanent state and is in fact reversed, with the muscles relaxing in the same order in which they initially stiffened.

The reversing process also takes approximately 12 hours, when the body returns to its un-contracted state.

It is possible to ‘break’ rigor mortis by manipulating and flexing the limbs. This is usually done by undertakers, pathologists or crime scene investigators who are attempting to examine or move a body – or by a murderer trying to hide their victim in the closet or the boot of a car.

CADAVERIC SPASM

A phenomenon that can be misinterpreted as rigor mortis.

The instantaneous stiffening of the body (most commonly the hands) following a traumatic death.

Unlike rigor mortis, the stiffening of the affected limb is permanent and is not reversed, causing the deceased to maintain the rigidity until such time as putrefaction causes breakdown of the particular muscle group.

Examples:

The deceased following an air crash were later discovered still clutching their seatbelts or arm rests in a final, desperate act of survival.

In a drowning case, the victim was discovered with grass from the riverbank still grasped in their hand.

Perhaps the most famous case of cadaveric spasm involves the rock band Nirvana’s lead singer, Kurt Cobain. Cobain reportedly committed suicide in April 1994. His body was discovered a few days after his death with a shotgun wound to the head, and tests revealed he had large traces of heroin in his system. He was reportedly discovered still clutching the gun in his left hand, due to cadaveric spasm. However, a great deal of controversy surrounds the veracity of this latter assumption, and indeed the cause of his death, with many people insisting and attempting to prove that he died as the result of foul play rather than suicide.

LIVIDITY

Also known as livor mortis, hypostasis, or suggillation.

Once blood can no longer circulate, it will gravitate towards the lowest point of the body.

Example: A supine body will display pinkish/purple patches of discoloration where the blood has settled in the back and along the thighs.

Occurs about 30 minutes after death, but will not necessarily be noticeable until at least 2 hours afterwards as the pooling process intensifies and becomes visible, finally peaking up to between 8 and 12 hours later.

Once it is complete, the lividity process cannot be reversed.

Therefore a body discovered lying on its side, but with staining evident in the back and shoulders, must have been moved at some point from what would have been a supine position at the time of death.

It is worth noting that if the body has had contact with the floor, a wall or other solid surface, lividity would not occur at the points of contact as the pressure would not allow the blood to seep through the capillaries and pool. The specific area of pressure will be the same colour as the rest of the body and a pattern of contact may well be evident.

PUTREFACTION

Derives from the Latin putrefacere, meaning ‘to make rotten’.

The body becomes rotten through the process known as autolysis, which is the liquefaction of bodily tissue and organs and the breakdown of proteins within the body due to the increased presence of bacteria.

The first visible sign is the discoloration of the skin in the area of the abdomen.

Bacteria released from the intestine cause the body to become bloated with a mixture of gases; over time these will leak out, and the smell will intensify to unbearable proportions.

Typically, this will attract flies that will lay eggs, which develop into maggots.

Bloating is most evident in the stomach area, genitals and face, which can become unrecognizable as the tongue and eyes are forced to protrude due to the pressure of the build-up of gases in the body.

At this stage, the body will also begin to lose hair.

The organs typically decompose in a particular order: starting with the stomach, followed by the intestines, heart, liver, brain, lungs, kidney, bladder and uterus/prostate.

Once all the gases have escaped the skin begins to turn black: this stage is called ‘black putrefaction’.

As with all the other stages of death so far, the rate of putrefaction depends on temperature and location. A body exposed to the air above ground will decompose more quickly than a body left in water or buried below ground.

During putrefaction, blistering of the skin and fermentation can also occur:

Fermentation - a type of mould that will grow on the surface of the body. This mould appears white, and is slimy or furry in texture. It also releases a very strong, unpleasant, cheesy smell.

As the putrefaction process comes to an end, fly and maggot activity will become less, which leads to the next stage.

DECOMPOSITION

The body is an organic substance comprising organisms that can be broken down by chemical decomposition.

If the body is outside, any remains that have not been scavenged or consumed by maggots will liquefy and seep into the surrounding soil.

Thus when the body decomposes it is effectively recycled and returned to nature.

SKELETONIZATION

The final stage of death is known as ‘dry decay’, when the cadaver has all but dried out: the soft tissue has all gone and only the skeleton remains.

If the cadaver is outside, not only is it exposed to the elements but it also becomes food for scavengers such as rats, crows or foxes.

As the remains are scavenged, the body parts become dispersed so it is not unusual to find skeletal remains some distance from where the body lay at the point of death.

The way in which skeletal remains are scattered in such cases is of interest to archaeologists, and is referred to as taphonomy.

Where a body has lain undiscovered at home for a period of time it has also been known for family pets, typically dogs, to feed on the body. The natural instinct of a pet is to attempt to arouse the deceased by licking them, but once it gets hungry, its survival instinct will take over and it will consider the body as little more than carrion: it will act with the same natural instinct as a scavenger in the wild, which will feed on any corpse, be it animal or human, if it is starving.

Obviously the number of pets, the body mass of the deceased and the time lapse before the body is discovered will influence to what extent it has been devoured.

For further research on the stages of decomposition and the factors that affect it, look up body farms. These are medical facilities where bodies are donated for research purposes so scientists can specifically observe the decomposition process. However, be aware that some of the images are quite graphic.

Source ��� More: References ⚜ Autopsy ⚜ Pain & Violence ⚜ Injuries Bereavement ⚜ Death & Sacrifice ⚜ Cheating Death ⚜ Death Conceptions

Writing Resources PDFs

[glitteringcrab]

Aaaaaaaaaaaall of Evil Morty's creations are yellow (I'm going somewhere with this, please do keep scrolling :P)

In season 1, the brain download thingy has a yellow motif! A subtle hint (only works in hindsight, obviously) that Evil Morty is the one behind this.

The base of his dome is yellow, even the projection of the CFC is yellow...

Spacesuit, helmet...

...portal gun, portal fluid...

Even his remote has yellow on it, hah!

And the weapons.

Lots of yellow weapons...

This override thingy.

EVERY SINGLE THING IS YELLOW...

...except for one (well, two if you count the eye-patch)

The one thing:

(is it a stylistic choice on behalf of the animators because he often wears yellow and yellow on yellow would not look that good)

(or is it a metaphor of something else)

[fadedmunson]

rose blood | r. sanchez

pairings ; rick sanchez x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

summary ; MAJOR SPOILERS ending of 7x05 (unmortricken) when you try to be there for rick's numb state

genre ; insanely sad angst ;( bit of fluff at the end, established relationship (?) no labels on it but you're close

notes ; i've loved this show for quite so i'm quite surprised i haven't written for r&m sooner. use of curse words

wc ; 0.7k sooo pretty short

"morty, you can’t come! evil morty, stay out of my way! gonna kill my nemesis! rick out!"

that's all you manage to hear as you get down to the basement a couple second too late.

you pause right as you opened the door to his lab.

"wait did rick say he was going after prime?" your eyes widen and you began to tense up at the thought of rick no longer thinking with his head.

you pause your thinking when you see two morty's, your morty and one with an eye-patch.

"-oh hey evil morty, didn't think i'd ever see you here." you simpered

his eyes narrowed, "trust me, theres alot i would've done to avoid being here in the first place."

"you’re an asshole." your morty grumbled

"well, yeah. I’m not “good” morty."

he opens a yellow portal to follow rick you assume.

"come or don’t. i don’t care."

you get snapped out of your haze

"actually, fuck this. if he wants to go out there and get himself killed he can be my guest." you quickly turn you head and leave the basement sublevel.

you're not his babysitter, but you're still a little worried for the old man. It's not everyday you finally find the person who killed your daughter and wife.

you quickly head up to his room and try to collect all of your thoughts

you begin pacing around the room as your heart rate picks up

rick found prime, morty and evil morty followed him, is evil morty going to kill prime or rick?, why is evil morty even there?, and is this all a trap?

to distract yourself, you take a nap on his bed cot to just put a pause on everything for now.

sure it's uncomfortable, but it'll do

your quick 30 minute napped turned into three hours and you wake up in a sweaty, thirsty daze.

you walk into the kitchen, greet beth and grab a bottle of water

you walk into the garage in time to see rick and morty just back from their battle

morty smiles and waves at you

"crazy fucking day today haha, jeez."

you gave him a light smile and ruffled his hair

once he was out of the room you got a good look at rick and your smile immediately dissipated.

he look disheveled, covered in a shit-ton of blood (a mixture of his and prime's) a broken nose, black eyes, and scratches littering his body

that didn't phase you, what did was the emotionless look on his face

he turned to you, but it didn't look like he was fully there.

"rick," your voice is tight

you don't even know how to articulate yourself, you've never seen him like this.

"that's a lot of blood." you awkwardly chuckle.

"yeah," his voice is toneless.

you quickly reach out to hold his hand, but the quick flinch withheld you.

"well, what are you gonna do now?"

he just looked up from the floor and shrugged his shoulders.

"i can stay, if you want."

he stays silent

you quickly move to sit on the floor against his counters and you pat the space next to you.

he moves to sit next to you and closes his eyes in the comfortable silence.

you move to rest your head in his chest and kiss the parts of his hand without any blood on them while intertwining them with yours.

"i'll stay right here with you, rick. you don't have to be alone."

you hear his body shake as he tries to quietly but violently cries into your hair.

you turn to hold him in your arms as you let the sobs turn into sniffles and then into stuttering breaths.

he grabs onto you like he'll lose you at any moment, and you kiss his tears away while whispering "we're okay," and "i'm not going anywhere."

"can we stay like this for a little?" he quietly rasped out

your mouth curved into a smile "of course, but after this we should get you cleaned up." you open your eyes to stroke his cheek and lock lips.

[hobeemin]

conspectu mortis 🌓 part one

🔮 genre(s): mystery, forbidden romance, historical au, dark academia au, smut

🔮 pairing(s): museum curator/werewolf!christian yu x clairoyant! (f) oc

🔮 Summary: two souls intertwined by a dream—perhaps a curse—until she sees his death unfold in a vision. will she be able to stop it in time, or will tragedy befall?

🔮 rating: 18+

🔮 warning(s): violence, cursing, blood, biting, kissing, penetrative sex, fingering, unprotected sex, mention of curses, mention of sexism, depression, self-consciousness, feelings of doubt, loneliness

🔮 word count: 4.7k

🔮 credits: for the velvet vault collab hosted by @ksmutsociety

kpop group: solo/dpr dark academia career: museum curator playlist: song 1: spider by hoshi song 2: nerves by christian yu song 3: broken clocks by sza song 4: coming to my senses by alina baraz song 5: obsession by exo

🔮 a/n: a huge thanks to @lovetaroandtaemin ally you're the best. your feedback helped me so much!!

hear me out; the original plan was for this to be only 4.5k and done...but a part two is in my future 😅😅 enjoy!

banner resources found here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Branches snagged at his clothes, scratching his face. He tripped over roots along the dirt road with only the moon illuminating his path. He could feel the sweat rolling down his neck, making his clothes stick to his body. Breathing hard, he could feel the fatigue set in, muscles screaming in protest, but he forced himself to push on.

The growls rumbled through the woods, making his heart pound as howls grew closer. A patch of trees caught his eye as he jumped behind it, pressing his body flat to the ground. He held his breath as the clatter of feet…was it feet…maybe paws slowed to a stop, but it didn’t matter. All he knew was that he was being hunted.

He whispered a silent prayer in thanks as whatever had been after him moved away. He waited a few moments and sat up to a crouch. Relief caught his face as he saw lights in the distance. It was only a few hundred yards away. He could make it. He had to. It was the only way he’d survive the night.

You can do this. One…two…three!

Just as he took off in the direction of the lights, his body jerked forward as a sharp pain ripped through his stomach. He looked down in confusion, placing his fingers on his shirt. The fabric was slashed. The warm, wetness coated his fingers as the smell of iron filled his nostrils. The stain had already spread from the wound. His knees gave out as he fell to the ground. He coughed, feeling weak. He grimaced as gravel and dirt pressed into his wound.

With a painful grunt, he tried to crawl away. This couldn’t have been it. There had to be more time. He felt pressure on his back as he was flipped over. Claws dug into his legs, making him cry out. Tears streamed as he tried to see what was before him. A hot breath rolled off his face, making him nauseous. Strings of saliva dripped down to his face.

He could barely form the words before their jaws locked on his shoulder and blacked out.

----

Her eyes shot open as she sat up in bed with a start. Her heart beating in her chest, she tried to slow her breathing down. She rubbed her face only to realize no drool was on it. That smell. She nearly gagged from the smell. It felt so real. Pulling the duvet back, she slipped from her bed, placed her slippers on it, and walked over to the basin on the tableside. The water felt cool on her skin as she splashed it across her face, waking her completely. The fogginess cleared from her mind as she patted her face dry with a towel. 

The last few months, she’d been plagued with that nightmare. Nothing seemed to calm her thoughts. She dreaded each time she closed her eyes.

What did it all mean? Usually, the visions were clear-cut, but all she could see for the unforeseen future was murky.

A knock at the door brought her attention to the present. 

“Yes?”

The door opened as a young man peeked in. 

“Oh, good. You're awake.”

“Couldn't sleep,” she replied, stifling a small yawn. 

“Not good. We need you well rested before tonight,” he said, pulling the curtains back to bring natural light into the room.

“Tonight? What’s happening tonight?” she inquired.

“Duchess Pimbrook has requested your talents are her dinner this evening.”

A sound of protest passed her lips as she fought to roll her eyes. “Oh, she requested me. I didn’t know the word was in her vocabulary. I’m surprised she didn’t order it.”

The look on his face alone made her stifle a laugh. “You know how she is, Celine.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it, Dabin,” she retorted.

Dabin sighed heavily, looking at her unimpressed. “This keeps us in the good graces of the elite.”

“You think I care? The last thing I care about is the approval of those uppity pissant–”

“I get it,” he interrupted.

Celine plopped down on her bed, rubbing her eyes. “I’m sorry. This no sleep has me cranky. I don’t mean to lash out.”

Dabin reached over and squeezed her hand. “No worries. I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

It wasn’t even like they needed the money. She and Dabin were more than well off. His father saw to it before his passing, and he made a promise to protect Celine after her parents passed. Only he truly knew the true extent of her gift. Most people thought it was simple parlor tricks, and they let them believe otherwise. Celine ran a hand through her braids, trying to gather her thoughts.

“I’ll be fine by this evening. What is Madam Pinbrook celebrating this time?”

“A big-time museum curator found some jewels and artifacts, so she’s showcasing the collection before it gets sent to the museum.”

“Oh. Very well. What time are we expected?”

“Half past six,” he answered, “I’ll have someone bring you options on what to wear, and you can have breakfast up here. I’ll see you then. Until then, get some rest.”

Dabin bowed before leaving the room as Celine sat with her thoughts. A sense of uneasiness draped over her as she stared at the city below. Who knew what lay in wait for her?

---

“It’s so lovely you were able to join us, Lady Celine. We heard you feeling under the weather.”

Celine tried not to let the Duchess's shrill voice work her nerves. She merely smiled, playing the role of the reserved aristocrat and keeping a tight smile across her face. She wanted to get Dabin to abandon her alone with the Duchess while he enjoyed the hors d'oeuvres. 

“Thank you for your concern, Duchess; I wouldn’t have missed this event for anything. I assure you I’m feeling much better.”

“Lovely. These people all came to see you, dear.”

Lies.

Celine brought out her fan in a flourish. “Me? I thought we were here to gaze upon this mysterious collection you’ve told us so much about?”

Celine would have paid a large sum to see the look the Duchess had on her face immortalized in a portrait. The older woman tittered, shaking her head. 

“Ah, yes. You’re correct, my dear.”

Her eyes looked past her as a smile formed. “In fact, our guest of the hour has arrived.”

Celine turned her head in the direction the Duchess pointed in to see a man walking down the stairs. A hush fell over the room as the presenter spoke to the guests.

“Presenting Dr. Christian Yu of the Natural Museum of Australia in partnership with the British Museum.” 

It seemed as if everyone was under a spell as this man descended the staircase. Dark hair swept back with a few wisps lying on his forehead. Decked in all black, he stood out among the crowd–but almost not in the best way. A few people whispered to themselves, looking at him curiously. The Duchess grabbed Celine’s hand, dragging her over to the man. Now that she was close, she stepped back in hesitation. He didn’t give off the appearance of a museum curator. An eye patch covered his left eye, and she noticed a scar that trailed from under the eye patch, down his cheek, and over his lip.

It was shocking at first, to say the least.

“Christian, I’m so happy you’ve returned,” the Duchess oozed.

He gave her a quiet bow, twisting his lips into a sensible smile. “I appreciate all that you have done for us at the museum. I look forward to revealing the collection.”

“We must get you to meet everyone as you are the guest of honor.”

His brown eyes set on Celine as she felt warm suddenly.

“Who may this be?”

“Oh, where are my manners? This is Lady Celine Devereaux. She is the adopted daughter of the Hong family.”

Christian held his hand out–one covered in a glove, and Celine took it gently. He bent down and kissed her knuckles. “The pleasure is mine, Lady Celine.”

To say she was smitten would have been an understatement. His smile was infectious, and she couldn’t help but smile too. 

“Would you like to see the collection?” he inquired.

The Duchess giggled, holding out her hand. “Of course! I’ve been looking forward to it!”

“Actually,” he said, cutting his attention back to Celine, “I’d love it if you would accompany me there, Lady Celine, if that’s alright with you.”

A few people who’d be easy to drop whispered to themselves, watching it unfold. The Duchess's face turned a shade of gray, almost making Celine burst out in laughter. Instead, she gave the doctor a nod. 

“I’d be honored, Dr. Yu.”

“Please. I insist you call me Christian,” he smirked.

Murmurs were heard as he led her to where the collection was being set up. Christian made small talk as they walked, wanting to know more about her. 

“I figured you wanted a break from all that. The Duchess has always been a lot to deal with.” 

Celine shook her with a laugh. “You have no idea. So you’re from Australia?”

“Yes. But history led me here. I wanted to explore and found so many mysteries to unearth.”

They reached a glass case with silver pendants rearranged on crushed velvet. The symbols shimmered under the candlelight.

Christian gestured to them with a smile. “Like these.”

“What are they?”

“Found in the moors of Yorkshire. They are said to hold the moon's powers,” he explained, opening the case.

He picked up one pendant and placed it in her hand. She rubbed the pendant under her fingers, noting its smooth and bumpy texture until she gasped.

Flashes crossed her mind as she saw a beast. Blood splattered across the fur, bodies intertwined—a silver bullet piercing her heart. 

She collapsed to the floor, shaking as Chrisitan dropped down, yelling for aid. Dabin came running in moments later, along with a few other guests.

He knelt, trying to shake her.

“What happened?”

“I-I don’t know. She just fell to the ground.”

Dabin looked at someone pointing off in the distance. “Get some water.”

Celine opened her eyes slowly to see everyone staring at her, Christian included. She tried to stand as Dabin held her down.

“Stay down. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she answered, pushing his hands aside and. rising from the floor. Dabin frowned, watching her.

“How about you sit for a spell–”

“I said I’m fine.”

She gave a curtsy to the crowd. “The excitement must have gotten to me! I just need some fresh air. Dr. Yu has an exciting collection for you all to see. Enjoy everyone!”

Celine couldn’t get out of there fast enough. She walked past the guards and onto the street, not stopping until she reached a corner far away from the mansion. She leaned against the brick wall, trying to control her breathing.

“Lost?”

She turned to see a group of men walking towards her. Celine straightened her posture as a feeling of dread passed over her.

“Not at all. Good night, gentlemen.”

“Whoa. Why the rush? We were going to get a pint, and we’d love it if you joined,” one said, stepping closer to her.

Her eyes narrowed in warning. “I think I made my answer perfectly clear. Good night.”

Another man pushed past the others, stepping toward Celine. The sourness on his breath made her nearly gag.

“Think ya better than us? Maybe we should teach you a lesson–”

“We have a problem, gentlemen?”

The group and Celine looked up to see Christian walking towards them. The cane he carried thumped lightly on the cobblestones. 

“Nope, no problem, mate. Makin’ sure the lady gets home safe and sound.”

Christian’s smile didn't reach his eyes. He turned to Celine with concern. “Were they assisting you?”

“No, no, they weren’t,” she spoke.

“Why, you little–”

Chrisitan sidestepped between her and the men. “I think you need to fuck off and go to whatever hole you crawled out of, mate.”

The man’s jaw clenched as his tone grew aggressive. “You lookin’ for a fight?”

Christian closed the gap between them, glaring at the man at eye level. The look on his face made the man’s face turn white with fear.

“Do we understand each other?”

The man nearly tripped, grabbed his friends, and ran off. “That bloke is crazy! Get him away from me!”

Celine watched in wonder as the group of men ran in the opposite direction. Christian turned to her with a shrug.

“I guess they decided on other plans. Would you like me to accompany you home, Lady Celine?”

Celine nodded, taking his arm as they walked back down the main street. Lamplighters were already out, with the poles lighting the streetlamps. The warm glow cast over the cobblestones lit their way. 

“Why did you run out of the party? Was I too hideous in the end,” he teased playfully.

Celine felt the warmth creep into her cheeks as she looked away, quite embarrassed.

“On the contrary, I suddenly felt ill and thought the best action was to get some air, which was not very smart on my end,” she finally replied.

He nodded in understanding. “Well, I’m happy I was able to find you quickly. These streets aren’t safe at night. Too many things lurk in the shadows, waiting for unsuspecting prey.”

Celine turned to look up at him as her brow quirked. Christian noticed the silence between them and began to laugh softly. “Sorry, my manners aren’t what they used to be. I’ve been traveling for so long, I sometimes forget that I’m around people again.”

“Dr. Yu–”

“Please, Lady Celine. Christian is fine to say.”

“I know it’s none of my business–”

“The eyepatch,” he finished with a lopsided grin.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Was it too much to ask? They had only just met this night. Celine knew better, but her curiosity–and maybe her gift played a large part in how she conducted herself.

“I understand if it’s something you prefer not to speak of; my apologies.”

Christian patted her hand as they stopped at a street crossing. “Lady Celine, don’t ever apologize. The subject about why I wear my eyepatch is not forbidden, however–”

Celine noticed they had arrived at her.

“However, it seems our time has grown short,” he explained.

“H-How did you know where I lived?”

“Ah, your brother–Dabin, I believe his name is. He asked me to take you home when I offered to find you.”

“Oh. Oh, I suppose that makes sense,” she reasoned.

“Very.”

Christian couldn’t help but be amazed by Celine, though keeping her at arm's length would have been wiser. Too much tragedy–something he’d been in denial about for years– had taken those before her, and it was best to end things before anything began.

And yet. 

He gravitated toward her, and some force was pulling him in her direction. He knew what could happen, and he almost didn’t care.

“Lady Celine?”

She jumped at the sound of her name meeting his gaze. “Yes, Dr. Y–I mean Chrisitan?”

“W-Would you like to come by the museum within a fortnight? I’d love to show you the rest of the collection I procured.”

His expression looked hopeful as he waited for her answer. She smiled at him and gave a slight nod.

“I’d be honored.”

He almost jumped for joy. “This is wonderful! I’ll write to you to arrange the details.” He took her hand, bending down to kiss her knuckles again. Her knees slightly buckled as she bit her bottom lip.

“I look forward to our time together, Lady Celine. I’ll count the hours until I see your lovely smile again.”

“Y-You flatter me, Christian. Please get home safely.”

“I promise.”

He watched as she went inside, leaving the bottom step once the door was shut and locked behind her. Satisfied, he set out to his home, a noticeable pep in his step as he strolled down the street.

---

He was unlike any person she’d ever met. Even in a short time, she got to know him. Every other day, he wrote to her wishing her a wonderful day and how much he looked forward to her visit to the museum. Even Dabin could see her mood improving.

Her nightmares had calmed since the night she met him. She still couldn’t decipher the visions from the Duchess’s party; even the tarot deck she sometimes consulted left her feeling cloudy. It got to a point where it would cause her headaches, so she spent a few weeks giving readings to any aristocrat who needed some excitement.

She was just as anxious to see Christian again. Through his letters, she saw his witty side and humor. If she was being honest, feelings other than friendship seemed to blossom. 

Soon, the day arrived, and the carriage picked her up to take her to the museum. Typically, there would be lines out the door, but the stairs were bare. Her eyes scanned the entrance as Christian came running down the stairs.

Her smile spread as he opened the door for her and held out his hand.

“My dear Lady Celine, welcome to the British Museum.”

“Thank you, Christian,” she smiled, taking his hand as he led her out of the carriage.

“Where are the crowds?” she asked curiously.

“Ah.” His cheeks flushed, looking away. “I got the museum to close for the day. We’ll have it to ourselves.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “To ourselves?!”

His face dropped in worry, “I-Is that alright?”

Celine squeezed his hand gently. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you.”

Christian’s face lit up with happiness as he kissed her hand. “Well, let’s not waste another moment.”

The tour he gave her was nothing like she had ever experienced. She loved watching him become animated when speaking about his interests. She could see the exhibits easily without the crowds and read the descriptions carefully. They took their time, stopping to chat in between about anything and everything. 

They could banter back and forth. He loved her spunkiness and how she could challenge him. This attraction was not fleeting. Christian was falling for her…hard.

They reached his exhibit, and he took her through how he found each piece. When they reached the pendants, she saw them the night of the party. Celine bypassed them and looked at the jewels. Christian observed her as she studied each item with interest. 

Would now be the right time to tell her what happened to him? The outcome could go one of two ways: she could accept him and his flaws or run away screaming to the hills. It was a gamble, but he decided to see it through.

“How do you like everything?”

She glanced at him with a quiet smile. “This was amazing. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Would it be so bold to ask if you’d join me for dinner at my home?”

Celine agreed immediately as they made their way to his place. Even for a doctor, his place was extremely lavish. The staff set out various dishes, from roasted cornish hens to roasted lamb, seasonal vegetables, and potatoes.

Her mouth watered as they sat down for the feast. The staff came in to serve them, pouring wine with the meal. Christian held his glass up with a grin.

“To new beginnings.”

Celine followed suit with a nod. “To new beginnings.”

The meal only brought them closer. Celine didn’t want the night to end. By dessert, they were both flushed from the wine and rich food. Christian suggested they take the desserts and brandy snifters by the study's fire.

The fire was already blazing, warming the chilly room as they settled on the rub by the fire. 

“I can easily say this has been the best day of my life,” she confessed.

“Really?”

She nodded as she picked a luscious red grape from the vine and popped it in her mouth. “I don't know what the Duchess or her associates have told you, but I’m a bit of a pariah regardless of my status.”

“How so?”

She sighed, staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace. “I-I see things.”

He scooted closer, placing his glass down. “Things? Such as.”

Celine shook her head in sadness. “Events that have happened, will happen, are happening…it’s a struggle to sleep most nights. I-I suffer from night terrors. I go to high society parties, do palm readings, and read tarot cards to keep my mind distracted. It keeps the gossip at bay, and I can sleep somewhat decently at night.”

Christian reached over and wiped the tears from her cheek with his thumb. Celine hadn’t realized she’d been crying until that moment. Her eyes shone under the flames, staring at the man before her. Oh, how he wanted to kiss her worries away. Protect her from the cruelty of society. 

“But since I’ve met you,” she began, “I haven’t been plagued by any visions.”

“I’m not a good man, Celine,” he revealed. “I was crass, complacent, pompous…I didn’t respect life…until I did.”

She gazed at him as she watched the distress. He hesitated, reaching up to remove the eyepatch, but stopped at the last minute.

“I was attacked earlier this year.”

“Attacked? Someone tried to kill you?”

He let out a bark of a laugh. “Not someone, something. And it nearly succeeded. I was down for weeks, and my fever wouldn’t break. I was in and out of consciousness. They thought the worst until, one day, I woke up with minimal injuries. The doctors couldn’t explain it, but I regained my strength and continued my expedition. The only reminder I have of the attack is the scar across my eye.”

Celine sat there in disbelief. So much had happened to him, yet he stood there, healthy and optimistic. 

“Life taught me not to take it for granted, Celine. The night I saw you, I was transfixed by you. The aura around you seemed to wrap around me, protecting me. I-I explain the feelings I have in the best way, but I want nothing more than to stay by your side.”

She rose from her spot, wringing her hands as she paced.

“I-I’m frightened because I can’t stop thinking about you. I feel bewitched each time you're near.”

Chrisitan stood, taking her hands into his, rubbing circles over her knuckles. “I know I should stay away, Celine, but–”

He lifted her chin to meet her eyes. 

“I can’t quit you.”

His breath was warm on her skin, and she felt goosebumps form. Her body naturally molded to his as his lips brushed her clavicle. Her thighs clenched all the more, knowing what was to come…what she hoped would happen.

“C-Christian,” her voice gasped as hot kisses trailed downward. Her nails gripped his back, trying to pull him closer. 

He tried to fight the beast that was tearing to break through. He willed it with all his might to push down. It was selfish of him to want this much already. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her as noises of protest passed her lips. Christian looked into her eyes, filled with so much desire for him. She saw him, the true him. Never had she shown fear or hesitation. In fact, she welcomed that part of him besides the fear and anxiety he possessed. The warmth from her hand on his cheek brought him back to the present.

She gave him a reassuring smile. “Thought I lost you for a minute.”

He returned the smile, shaking his head. “Got in my head a bit, love.”

Her fingers caressed his cheek as he closed his eyes in contentment. “I’m not scared if that’s what you are worried about.”

“I’m afraid,” he whispered. “I’m afraid I could hurt you. I’d never be able to live with myself if it were to happen.”

Celine nuzzled against him, wrapping him in her arms. “That’s not going to happen. You wouldn’t hurt me. I wouldn’t hurt you either. I-I love you, Christian.”

He pulled back to look into her eyes in surprise. “You do?”

“I-I tried to fight it, but I’m tired of lying to myself,” she said, trembling.

He leaned in and kissed her lips. “I love you, too, Celine. I will devote my life to you from this day forward.”

 He trailed his lips down her neck as her breath hitched. She sought his lips hungrily as growls and moans spilled between the pair. The clothing couldn’t come off fast enough.

“Fucking petticoats,” he cursed, ripping the flimsy fabric from her waist. 

Celine giggled, helping him with his shirt. “Don’t like a challenge, Dr. Yu,” she taunted.

“On the contrary, I enjoy the chase,” he teased, fingers running along her skin. 

In one fluid motion, Christian picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist as she felt his shaft slap against her thigh.

“I’ll be gentle,” he said in between kisses. 

“D-Don’t,” she pleaded. “Take me now. Please.”

“You never have to beg,” he reassured.

His fingers found her sex with ease, guiding her to relax. Celine cried out as her hips bucked against his hands. She trembled in his hands, not wanting the feeling to stop.

“You’re like a drug,” he cooed, reveling in the feeling of his fingers in her pussy. Her walls clenched around his digits.

“N-Need you now, love,” he begged. “I want you.”

“C-Chrisitan,” she whispered breathlessly.

He pulled his fingers from her core, lining his cock at her entrance. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He took his time, stopping each time she squeezed his hand. Words of comfort passed his lips as he joined with her. His forehead rested on hers once he was hilt deep.

They let out a sigh of relief. Celine reached up, touching his eye patch gingerly. “Can I take this off?”

“Celine–”

“I want to see you–all of you Christian.”

After a moment, he nodded as she untied the eyepatch. He winced, worried she'd turn away from him in disgust. Her finger brushed the scar on his face that led up to his eye. The milky-colored pupil swirled with silver. 

“It looks like the moon,” she murmured.

“I look–”

“Beautiful,” she spoke softly before kissing his eyelid tenderly before moving down to his lips.

His rhythm started at a painstaking pace. His thrusts moved their bodies in tandem as she gripped his shoulders. This was only their first time, and he didn’t want to do anything she didn’t agree to do. The beast held on, still fighting for dominance, but he pushed the instincts away.

All that was on her mind was this man making her feel full. He sought her lips, kissing her feverishly. Their grunts and moans filled the emptiness of the room. Celine rotated her hips, wanting him closer. She craved his touch and didn’t care how much. Christian bit down on his lip, holding back a moan. She was snug around him. He didn’t want this to end. She could feel him throbbing inside, knowing he’d come soon. 

“C-Celine…I-I–”

She smiled, kissing him again. “It’s okay, Christian.”

Celine saw stars for the second time that night as her orgasm slammed over her. It rippled through her body as her pussy quivered around his cock. His movements became sloppier with his pace, seeking his own pleasure. He tugged her hair to the side, biting into her neck to hold his sounds, but it was too much. He threw his head back as an earth-shattering howl ripped into the night. His cock twitched before spurting out his seed deep into her womb. 

Breathing hard, they slid to the ground, too exhausted to make sudden moves as sleep came instantly.

He lay there in bed holding her close. Fingers caressing her back in a soothing pattern. If this was paradise, he didn’t want it to end. All he wanted to do was protect Celine from the world and, if he had to admit it, himself. The beast inside him fought to be free. Each day was a struggle.

He was restless even with the full moon approaching the month's end. That was his timeframe to try to find a cure. There had to be. He leaned in, kissing her forehead just as a howl pierced into the night. His eyes flashed as he growled low.

“I make this promise to you, my love; I’ll keep you safe until my last breath.”

[strawberrysmootji]

Chapter 2 | Sic Semper Tyrannis

“Thus always to Tyrants”

18+ fic, minors do not interact!

Chapter summary: Aemond takes you on a walk through the castle’s woods and grounds. You investigate the castle at night and stumble upon some suspicious conversations.

(edited)

Chapter warnings/tags: Mentions of death, corpses, canon typical incest, ghosts??, the supernatural, betrothal, family drama, Alicent claiming Rhaenyra’s kids are bastards (as usual)

if any of these things are not to your liking/ are triggering i recommend not to read it! Word count: 5k Rigor Mortis Masterlist | Main Masterlist

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“Eggs?”

You sat at the large breakfast table with Aegon, Aemond and Helaena. Helaena was engrossed with an embroidery project and Aemond was reading the morning newspaper. They all seemed tense. 

It was only Aegon who was keeping you company, if you could call it that. You were wearing a pale sea green dress with pink frills and ribbons decorating it. You seemed to have accidentally matched with Helaena who wore a pale blue dress with pink ribbons decorating her dress and complex hairstyle. 

You nodded in response to Aegon’s question and held out your plate. He scooped up a bunch of scrambled eggs, not really caring to ask if it was too much. 

It was. 

You reluctantly began to eat the eggs and you glanced over at your betrothed. His face was hidden behind the large newspaper. You had seen his face before he started reading it. Instead of the glass eye he wore a black leather eye patch over his, what you assumed, was an empty eye socket. He was quiet and had only murmured a good morning to you when you entered the room. Helaena hadn’t said anything.

You let out a soft sigh and turned to Aegon who was eating the eggs like they were his last meal on earth. It was quite a sight to see. 

“Did you sleep well?” You asked Aegon, trying to break the awkward silence that hung in the dining room, even the servants were quiet. 

“No. That wench wouldn’t shut up, again.” He replied with his mouth full. Aemond glared at him, his stern eye peeking over the edge of the newspaper he was holding. Wench? It was a mystery who this ‘wench’ was that he was talking about. You hadn’t heard anything last night, in fact, you had slept surprisingly well for someone that slept with a notebook hidden under their mattress.

“What wench?” 

“Give it a week.”

“What?”

His answers only confused you even more. He looked more exhausted than he did yesterday. This time he wore a light green vest, single breasted. Not that it mattered, it made him look just as sickly as the mustard yellow did. Perhaps it was just his complexion. 

“Swallow before you speak.” Aemond scolded his older brother and all Aegon did was shoot him another glare. Aemond turned his gaze to you and it softened slightly. He closed the newspaper and folded it up before placing it on the wooden table.

Aemond was wearing a red vest with a black shirt underneath it. The sleeves were poofy at the ends and his long silk hair was in a neat long braid again like the evening before. The pattern on his red vest had some botanical elements with abstract leaves and vines. A stark contrast to his older brother who you figured enjoyed wearing simpler patterns like stripes.

“I apologise for my brother, clearly he has no idea how to act in front of ladies.” You could hear Aegon scoff at Aemond’s words but your betrothed seemed to ignore it. You studied Aemond’s face as he spoke. You liked the eye patch. It made him look mysterious and you liked solving mysteries. 

“Don’t apologise, my brother is worse.” 

The corners of Aemond’s mouth slightly tilted upwards. It was the first time you had seen him smile, if you could even call this a smile. 

“Shadows need the light to exist but roam freely in the darkness.”

You, Aemond and Aegon turned your heads when you heard Helaena speak. She was still working on her embroidery, almost pretending as if she hadn’t said anything before. It annoyed you. First the flowers and now rambling about nonsense out of the blue. A thick silence hung in the air, one you didn’t dare to break. 

Aemond and Aegon gave each other a look you were unable to read and they continued eating their breakfast in silence. With nothing to do and your mood ruined you reluctantly continued to eat the large pile of scrambled eggs on the plate in front of you. 

You took the time to look around the dining hall, it was large. The walls were covered in burgundy coloured velvet and the darkwood floorboards had been laid out in a herringbone pattern and it looked like it was recently done. Above the fireplace hung a black banner with a red three-headed dragon. The sigil of their family. In the centre of the room stood the large rectangle dining table you sat at. You counted eighteen chairs, two at both ends of the table and eight chairs on each side of the table.

On the left side of the hall hung three large painted portraits. A man with short silver blonde hair hung in the middle and the other two paintings were of silver haired women. They looked similar but their features were still discernible. 

The wooden door of the dining room creaked open. Alicent and Otto walked in. Aegon, Aemond and even Helaena looked up to face their mother and grandfather. Alicent looked like she had been crying and Otto placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Something that you noticed immediately was Alicent’s hair and the lack of intricate hairstyle. Instead, her curly auburn hair hung loose over her shoulder. Something serious must’ve happened for a queen to walk around the house, filled with male servants, with her hair loose.

“The body has been found.” 

Otto’s deep voice had cut deep through the silence. You let the words sink in. Not ‘a’ body. He said ‘the’ body. You wondered if this was so normal to them they could afford to use such wording. Or perhaps he meant ‘the’ body whose death they were behind. Your mind was racing, thinking of all possible answers. To think that such a simple sentence could make you spiral so much. “Who was it?” Aegon asked, the only one who dared break the silence, which you were secretly thankful for. 

“Tayla.”

‘Who is Tayla?’

Alicent begins to sob again and quickly excuses herself back to her room. Instead of looking at Aemond you looked at Aegon for answers but he was clearly avoiding your gaze. From the corner of your eye you could see Aemond’s frown deepening but you were unsure if it was because of the situation or because of you choosing to look for answers with his brother rather than him.

“They are getting bold.” Aemond replied after a short moment of complete silence.

‘Who in the seven’s name is ‘they’?’

“They are.” Otto replied as his frown deepened, making the wrinkles on his forehead more evident with every passing moment.

The room filled with silence again, you hated the feeling. Everyone knew something but no one bothered to tell you, not even your future husband. Otto turned to Aemond, it was almost as if they could read each other's mind because without Otto having to say a word, Aemond replied.

“Bring the body to my practice.” 

Then he turned to you.

“We shall walk in gardens together after lunch.”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

After breakfast you had made your way back to your room. Some servants quietly entered the room and helped you in an appropriate walking dress you had brought with you. It was a red dress with black frills, ruffled and ribbons, coincidentally the colours of his family’s banner.

You watched out the window as they dressed you. Your room watched over the Narrow Sea and Blackwater bay. The eerie realisation of being able to see the place where each month a body would be found sent shivers down your spine. The narrow sea was calm, too calm. It was hard to see the water in the first place due to the thick mist lingered not only over the sea but also the city.

“Do you enjoy the view my lady?” One of the servants asked you in a soft voice. The servant was young, she looked no older than the age of fifteen.

“I suppose.” You replied in the most polite manner you could muster up. Even at home you disliked talking to the servants. Not because you didn’t care for the working class but because you preferred to spend your time alone. You didn’t like the workers coming into your room, your ‘supposedly’ private space. Of course you realised it wasn’t their fault, it was their work after all. Besides, you knew this type of work was better than working in one of the factories. 

Back in the North where you used to live there weren’t many factories yet. The people were stubborn and preferred their old methods of producing goods. Your father owned a few factories in the North. All were located in White Harbor near the ports, which is of course good for trading. Your family had already been rich before the industrialisation. However, with the investments your father had made in the new factories and the strategic location of the city, his riches only grew. The Starks were the richest ones now but if they didn’t start investing into the industrialisation in Westeros they might fall behind. 

You hated the factories. Your father had taken you once when you were only eight years old and your brother was fourteen years old. You don’t remember much of it but you do remember the heavy feeling you felt when you saw girls your age working the machinery wearing rags and worn out clothes. That day a girl’s hands got stuck in the machinery, apparently it was a normal occurrence. Everything after that was only a vague memory to you. You remembered the blood and how you wailed ever louder than the girl that had gotten into the accident. 

Benjamen had teased you about it for months afterwards. He loved the factory, the economics, the leadership, everything about it. He was to inherit it after all. You remembered him boasting about all the things he would change once it was his. His words did nothing but bring you an uncomfortable feeling. It was almost as if he couldn’t wait for your father to die so he could take over. 

You snapped out of your thoughts when one of the servants started talking to you.

“Excuse me, could you repeat that please?” You asked the servant bashfully, embarrassed about being so deep in thought that your senses were shutting out the outside world.

“Of course. You needn’t be worried about the bodies, my lady. You’re safe in the castle.” One of the older servants said. The younger girl protested in a hushed voice. “But Tayla-”

The older woman sent a death glare at the young girl and she immediately shut her mouth. It dawned upon you that the servants knew things about the castle and the family as well, perhaps even more than your future in-laws. 

“What happened to Tayla?” You bluntly asked the women who were working on your dress. The older woman was busy with your under skirts and ruffles while the young girl was tightening the laces on the back of the dress. You could feel the young girl’s hands stop for a moment before continuing. The older woman stayed silent.

“She went out.” Was all the young girl would reply and secured the laces by tying them together. The older woman glared at the young girl again but continued to work in silence. The information you had gotten wasn’t that useful but at least it was something. Perhaps Aemond would tell you more on the walk, at least, that is what you hoped.

The servants remained silent as they worked on getting you ready. The silence in the room was awkward and you simply continued to stare out of the window. It didn’t take them long to finish and once you were ready they walked you to the garden where Aemond was waiting for you. He was wearing a black outdoor tailcoat where the ends of the coat were aligned with his knees. He was still wearing the dark red vest but you could see his pants more clearly now that he was standing up and not sitting at a table. His pants were neat. They were all black and clearly tailored to fit him perfectly. 

The servants dismissed themselves and left you alone with your soon to be husband. His gaze was striking like always. His sharp jawline and defined cheekbones made him look extremely handsome, even with the scar and the eyepatch. 

You politely nodded and looked to your left- and then your right, noticing the lack of a third person. 

“No chaperone?”

“We are engaged, there is no need for a chaperone my lady.”

Aemond’s bluntly reply and your own mistake had made your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Of course the two of you didn’t need to have a chaperone with you on a walk. In fact, the two of you could even hold hands on said walk. 

“Of course, my mistake.” You awkwardly tried to chuckle it off but the tension between the two of you didn’t disappear. 

Aemond offered you his hand in a polite manner. He didn’t speak but it was clear he was trying to be a gentleman. You reluctantly took his hand, internally screaming at the contact. It felt wrong, as if a whole stage of life was skipped. Although arranged marriages weren’t uncommon, most couples still went through a courting phase before getting engaged. You barely even knew this man and yet you were allowed to hold his hand. 

The two of you strode through the misty garden. Barely any flowers grew in it. Not only was the soil salty from the nearby sea but it was also winter. The garden was large though, larger than you had thought. The beginning of the walk was silent, like it had been the night before. 

You walked on his right side again so he could see you properly. When you looked up at him he seemed to be in deep thought. His single violet eyes glanced at you and he finally spoke.

“Have you grown accustomed to the castle?”

“Not yet, it is quite large. I would get lost if i didn’t have someone walking with me.” The two of you stopped to take a look over the city below you. There was a detailed stone wall that separated you and the cliff. The city was covered in mist and it was hard to make out any houses besides the one on the hills and the large structures such as ‘The dragonpit’ and the great sept. Of course, the factories were quite visible as well. The long chimneys spat out a dark black smoke that stained the air. It stood out against the mist and you grimaced.

“What do the factories here produce?” 

“Canned food.”

His reply was bleak and it annoyed you.

“All of them?” You asked him as you let go of his hands to rest yours on the stone wall in front of you. The wind blew softly, it made the ruffles of your dress sway a little but not the entire skirt. You looked at him again and the tail of his coat was also flowing in the wind.

“No. That one over there produces firearms.”

He points at the factory the furthest away. Because of the mist you couldn’t see if it was in- our outside of the city. The thought of such dangerous weapons being built so close to citizens made your stomach churn.

“Do you dislike the factories, my lady?”

The question startled you a little. It wasn’t something you expected him to ask, especially considering your father owned a factory

“It is an eyesore and the working conditions aren’t great. Besides, I doubt those black fumes from the chimneys will do any good in the long run.” 

You saw no point in lying, after all, he was the one that asked. You wouldn’t be surprised if his family owned one, if not all the factories surrounding the city. Something told you he wouldn’t judge you for it. 

Aemond, surprisingly, hummed in agreement.

“They are certainly quite ugly, but they make money. A lot of money.”

He pointed at the furthest factory, the one making firearms. 

“That is the family’s biggest money maker. We trade within the realm but we also export a lot to Essos, specifically the free cities. My elder sister Rhaenyra is to inherit them all, she lives on Dragonstone, but i must’ve told you at dinner already.” He explained and turned his head to study your reaction. 

He hadn’t told you anything at dinner the night priorly. It was Alicent who had filled you in on the current family situation.

“Do you miss her?”

“No.”

An awkward silence fell between the two of you again. Aemond offered his hand again and you took it, less nervous than first. His hand was large and yours fitted comfortably in his. The rest of the gardens were just as dull as the first part was, that was until he led you to a wooded section of the garden. 

“I didn’t know the royal family of the realm was allowed to own factories.” You pointed out with a tinge of curiosity lacing your voice. It was true though, many of the citizens wouldn’t like it. The family already owned the entire realm, should they really hold more factories?

Aemond paused for a moment and glanced at you. 

“You are a sharp lady and are right. We technically aren’t allowed to. The factories are in someone else’s name but we pay for them, as well as own them.” 

That was a shady business practice and you were surprised Aemond had even told you about it.

It was densely wooded but there was a clear dirt path that led to the middle. It was hard to identify what tree was what species since all the leaves had fallen onto the ground over the past autumn and winter. The leaves that were on the ground were a gross wet mixture of half disintegrated brown leaves. 

It was Aemond who broke the silence again. 

“Rhaenyra is invited to our engagement party, father insisted on it.” 

Aemond tried to hide the distain in his voice when he spoke of his sister.

“She and the rest of her family.” He corrected himself with a sigh.

It was silent again. You had to admit you were a bit slow, after all, no one had bothered to inform you about an engagement party. You wondered if your father and brother were invited as well. You turned your gaze up to him and politely smiled.

“I wasn’t aware of an engagement party. When is it?”

Aemond seemed to think for a moment before replying.

“The first day of the second month. That gives us enough time to prepare for…” He trailed off but you knew what he was talking about. He was talking about the next full moon. 

The next time a body would be found. 

“What happened to Tayla?” You were surprised you even managed to ask that question. The one that was eating you up from the inside out since breakfast. 

You and Aemond reached a small cemetery. In the middle stood a large stone tomb with three names on it.

Aegon I Targaryen

Visenya Targaryen

Rhaenys Targaryen 

The two of you stood in silence in front of the tomb. It looked well cared for. The moss growing on it was minimal and the stone was clean. You had seen cemeteries and tombstones before, most were a dark grey with vines and moss overgrowing the stone structures but this one was the complete opposite. 

“I cannot tell you, but you will know, in time.” He replied, his voice was lower than usual. You didn’t like his answer, why couldn’t he just tell you?

“You’re safer  if you don’t know about them.”

Another silence fell between the two of you. This one wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward like the others but it felt eerie. His words were sinister and made the hairs on your neck stand up straight. Who was ‘them’? They can’t be good people if they were behind all of these murders. Were they even people?

You had to shake the thought away. Of course they were actual people. The paranormal was only a trick of the mind to fill in the blanks. That is what it was. Even though you tried so hard to shake off the feeling you couldn’t help but feel watched. ‘It is only a trick of the mind. It’s because we’re in a forest and next to a cemetery. It’s because I am not familiar with surroundings.’ You tried to reassure yourself but you couldn’t help but look back over your shoulder. 

There was nothing. Of course there was nothing. You didn’t know what you even expected to be there. The treeline was dark and you were sure if his words had frightened you more you would have imagined the shape of a human or creature somewhere in there. It used to happen quite often when you were a child but now you knew the shapes you saw were just a bunch of unfortunately placed bushes, tree trunks and branches cast in a dark shadow. Hell, if you tried hard enough you could point out at least five trunks that looked like they had someone hiding behind them or standing in front of them. You chuckled to yourself and shook your head, resulting in Aemond giving you a confused look. 

There was no one there. 

So why didn’t the feeling go away?

“My ancestors, the ones who bought ‘The Red Keep’. The first king and queens of the united realm.” He replied, the usual monotone and disinterested tone in his voice was now filled with pride. His face was still neutral, but you noticed a miniscule smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

‘He liked history.’ A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as well when you remembered the conversation of yesterday night.

Perhaps he wasn’t so bad after all.

“They are buried here in this tomb together. The rest of the family rests in the cemetery.” 

He motioned with his hand at the cemetery behind you two. It was quite large and after scanning the graveyard quickly you noticed it was mostly men and their wives that were buried. 

“Where are the sisters of the family?”

“Buried with their husbands on their own land, except Visenya and Rhaenys. They are buried in the tomb..”

“Sisters? I thought they were Aegon’s  wives?

You shook your head as if you physically tried to shake off the thought.

Your question made Aemond chuckle softly. He shook his head and looked at you. 

“Visenya and Rhaenys are buried with their husband…and their brother.” 

Huh?

Huh?

“I don’t think I understand-.” You could feel your cheeks heat up as the blood rushed to your face. It must be a miscommunication, right? You were certain there was no other way. You must’ve interpreted something wrong-

“They married their brother.” Aemond replied calmly. His expression showed no disgust or discomfort, in fact, he seemed to be completely comfortable with the fact his ancestors were siblings.

“Their brother?!” 

Aemond chuckled at the way you expressed your confusion. He nodded to confirm your question. He stepped closer to you and rested his hand on the small of your back. 

If your face wasn’t overheating before it sure did now. You desperately tried to remember all the customs and rules that came with courting, engagement and marriage. Was this even allowed?! You knew the two of you were allowed to hold hands but he had his hand placed on your lower back, were his hand to trail down a little further he would be touching…

You shook away your vulgar thoughts. You didn’t even wish to think of what would happen if he did. He stood so close to you, his hand not moving from its place. He slightly bent down and you could feel his breath on the side of your neck. Even though the weather was cold his breath felt warm. His whole body was warm. 

“I know it must be strange to you, but you have my word that I will explain it when we’re married.” 

All you could do was slowly nod. You were afraid that if you spoke it would sound more like a cracked squeak than an actual human voice. 

The rest of the walk was silent. Your head mulled over the realisation that his ancestors were truly related to each other, closely related. You couldn’t believe the rumours were actually true, you were so certain they had been made up in an attempt to make the foreign family look bad. 

Aemond had escorted you back to your room so you could get ready for dinner and (unknowingly) leave you alone with your thoughts. 

You knew your circumstances were too good to be true. You thought you would simply marry an intelligent and rich prince, perhaps spend your time chasing false rumours to kill time and boredom. But no, now you had to marry this intelligent and devilishly handsome man knowing his ancestors were siblings. Not to mention that your future children will have those ancestors as well.

How in the seven hells were you going to look past this?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Perhaps it was foolish what you were doing but your curious mind was too restless. You had to know more about his ancestry. He promised he would tell you once the two of you were married, but who knew how far away that would be. Of course, you couldn’t rule out that he was lying. You barely knew the man. 

You walked through the castle in your thin white night dress. It was long and flowing, different than the thicker dresses you were used to when you lived in the North. Still, it was quite cold to be wearing this type of night dress in the winter.

In your left hand was a brass candle holder with a white wax candle in it, the candle was lit and illuminating the dark hallways. The flame flickering made your surroundings seem mystical while you searched for the castle’s library. You knew they had one on the second floor, Aemond had shown you on his tour of the castle. 

Of course, this is a castle you’re walking through, the second floor was enormous and seemed like a maze of endless hallways in the dark. It made you wonder if you could even find it in broad daylight. 

When you turned the corner you noticed a small sliver of light illuminating the stone wall of the castle. Soft, yet clear voices could be heard coming from a room. The light came from a slightly ajar door where two people were clearly holding a private conversation. 

You knew you shouldn’t be snooping around and listening in on conversations, it was rude and intrusive. Yet, your curiosity was untamable. You sneaked closer, careful not to make any sound while the voices became more clear.

“I can’t believe she would do something like this.”

You knew that voice. It was Alicent, but you weren’t used to the tone she was speaking in. It was snappy and distressed. 

“My lady, I advise you to calm down.”

You didn’t know that voice. It was an adult male, that much you could tell. His voice sounded calmer but a small hint of annoyance seeped through.

“She is a spoiled brat. We invite her here and she does nothing.”

Oh gods they weren’t talking about you, right?

“Her father is dying, her younger brother is getting married and yet she refuses to come here.” Alicent continues speaking in the same tone as before. 

Alright, they clearly weren’t talking about you, that’s a relief. 

“I am sure she is only busy, your highness-” “Busy? Busy raising her three bastards to be her heir?” Alicent snapped in anger. You could hear a little shuffling in the room and guessed it was Alicent sitting down in a chair or on a sofa. Then heavier footsteps could be heard and the floorboards creaked a little. The urge to look through the small gap of the open door was huge but the fear of getting caught eavesdropping was even bigger so you refrained yourself. 

“Your majesty, please-” “I don’t want your compassion.” Alicent interrupted the man with a sniffle but couldn’t even finish her sentence before the man interrupted her as well. 

“Alicent..”

First name basis with the queen?! With a married woman?!

“..you’re grieving. Today has been hard on you and I suggest you rest. We shall continue our talk about princess Rhaenyra later, perhaps after Tayla’s funeral.” Neither of the two spoke a word for a few moments but Alicent broke the silence. “Alright. Thank you Ser Criston, your presence and loyalty is a great comfort to me.” Ser Criston? The knight in the white uniform from the day before? You couldn’t stay and think in the hallway much longer when it quickly dawned upon you that they were wrapping up their conversation. As you quietly started to walk away you stepped onto a creaking part of the floor and you swore you would burn all old castles down if you ever managed to get yourself out of this sticky situation. 

Alicent and Set Criston must’ve heard you because you heard the heavy footsteps of Ser Criston make their way towards the door. You hastily blew out your candle and turned the corner. You could hear his footsteps following you and felt your heartbeat quicken. You had to shake him off one way or another. When you turned another corner you walked into a hallway you were very familiar with. It was the one where Aemond’s room was located. 

Perhaps you could hide out there under the guise of not being able to sleep. When you finally thought you had escaped from Ser Criston you felt a large hand cover your mouth and pull you into a room. You desperately tried to wriggle yourself out of the grip but couldn’t do so until the stranger had closed the door behind the two of you and locked it. 

The room was dark and unlit, the only light seeping in from the windows was the icy moonlight that made the room look creepy. White sheets were thrown over the furniture to prevent the dust build up and it was clear this room wasn’t being inhabited by anyone right now.

When you finally turned around to face the man that had dragged you into the room your mouth slightly went agape in surprise. 

Right before stood Aemond’s eldest brother.

Aegon Targaryen.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Taglist: @helaenaluvr @saltedcaramelpretzel @certifiedhaters @imawhorecrux

[whovianbuffalo]

The “Inside The Episode ” for Unmortricken keeps trying to convince me that Evil Morty is a villain, but that's my baby boy; he can do no wrong. That doesn't preclude him from having done wrong in the past, but right now, he is baby.

Just look at him. The eye patch is just a power play.

[haahahrick]

Prime Morty didn't want to give up his bag and Rick didn't want to give Morty Prime his eye patch, Beth got everything except the bag

[msc137]

I was gonna just say hi,but I saw what the Rick from my curve,D-127,was like to you guys. What a dick. Anyway,hey,I'm the "Evil* Morty from D-127s curve. I don't like that I said that,it makes it sound like he owns it. He wasn't important back there. And he isn't here,don't let him get to you. - @eye-patch-guy

he used to get to me a lot more, but recently ive started to just take a step back and laugh at him. thanks for saying hi, man

[thatonerick]

I’ve got a brush for your hair, and a sponge to clean you up. once you’re clean you can get some rest in the hoodie and ill keep an eye out. you really need some patching up kid.

if you need to talk, I’m here for you kid.

i have some nectar as well and I’ll start fixing you up.

@anti-morty

[bubblegumr1ck]

follow up to this

YES, EVIL MORTY ALSO HAS TICS, YOU THINK HE'S SAFE FROM MY PROJECTION???

Like Morty, he also has facial tics. His eye-patch hides most of his flinches, but his grimaces are more obvious. His carefully neutral expression is actually a very intensely concentrated effort not to tic. Shh, nobody tell him that thinking about it makes it worse...

Escaping the curve made him less tense, but he's definitely still on-edge when he's around others. This leads him to have muscle-straining tics, for example involuntarily raising his shoulder or straining his neck to one side.

He conceals them quite well, but once Morty notices that Evil Morty has tics, it's all over.

"W-Wait, do you have them too?"

"Have what?"

"Tics!" Morty sounds excited.

Evil Morty crosses his arms. "I don't."

Of course, now that he's thinking about it, and trying very hard not to—

"There!" Morty points at his face. "You just did it again."

"I'm leaving."

"Rick has tics too! You're not alone."

"Good for him. Bye."

"You can pretend you don't care all you want, but—"

Evil Morty shoots a portal under Morty's feet and takes joy in his shocked expression as he watches him fall through.

("I wasn't trying to m-make fun of you, y'know."

"Whatever. I just wanna know how you deal with them."

"First, relax. Second, don't drink coffee. Third, d-don't think about it."

"Okay. Thanks."

Evil Morty shoots a portal beneath his feet again. Morty glares at him as he falls.

"You're a di—"

His words get swallowed by the portal).

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

a smol snippet of a fic in progress based on this incredible commission by @feathergil​ because these two make me feel so insane y’all have no idea -

wip. ---

“Now, I call this next one… ‘The Ghoulish Grin.’” 

Morty quirked an eyebrow at the vaguely ghost-related name. “That one’s new.”

“Indeed!” He chimed. Under regular circumstances, the clairvoyant very well may have picked up on his ulterior motives from the spring in his voice alone. But Morty was in a vulnerable state now; too burdened by the weight of unspoken thoughts and worries to look past the charismatic façade that was the other’s smile. So when Eusine took him by the arm, he simply followed, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. A wordless bond of trust that came with consequent naivety—

And an opportunity Eusine had to take advantage of while he still could. 

Morty was standing now, planted comfortably amidst dried up piles of auburn and amber, barely managing a glimpse of a fluttering white cape as Eusine moved behind him. He all but tilts his head at the motion—a fleeting second of doubt a mere moment too late as the other resumes speaking.

“Feast your eyes, for I shall now make the fabled ghost tamer’s troubles disappear!”

“Mm? What do you mean by tha-ahaA?!”

Electricity shot through his spine then—not by the element itself nor a Pokémon of its typing, but by a sudden squeeze around his stomach. Morty gasped, eyes widening and breath getting caught between fits of giggles that all too suddenly bubbled in his throat from the feeling of Eusine latching his fingers onto his sides. The performer chided from behind him.

“Ooh, still so sensitive! How cute…~” 

Morty’s reflexes screamed to fight for composure, firmly biting down his lips as his own hands raced to catch Eusine’s wrists before they could worsen his quickly diminishing state. But it seemed as his efforts were futile; the other all too spastically alternated between gloved fingers in a barrage of ginger presses and prods, playing around his torso as if a treasured instrument of old. Morty mentally cursed at how his sweater did little to nothing to protect himself from his attacker, and he held a desperate clamp on his jaw, fearing what would come if he dared to make another sound.

But Eusine was awfully persistent—as he should’ve realized sooner. Going against the renowned Suicune chaser was fighting a losing battle right from the get-go, and it wasn’t long until all semblance of self-control cracked away at the rub across a particularly sensitive patch of skin. Morty crumbled. 

“E-Eusinehehe! Whahaa—at are you doi-hihi—ing?!” 

“Performing my greatest disappearing act yet!” Eusine’s amusement resounded in prideful chuckles. “And bringing a smile back to my dear friend’s face, what else?” 

“I’m smiling! I aahaham smiling! L-Lehehet go of mehe-hehee!” 

“Ah ah, not quite.”

The mystic tutted, matching the click of his tongue with a few pokes by the other’s ribs, getting him to squeak.

“Not until I’ve made sure that all that gloom has disappeared. It wouldn’t be honorable of me to have a routine gone unfinished, no?” 

“Euseeheheehine!”

wip. ---