#they just don't know yet what a ruler Dream is. :) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheapshrimpysheep · 25 days ago

Text

Dating in a Dream - Kalim Al-Asim

SUMMARY: What would his dream be like, exactly the same as in the original story, but with the small detail that he is dreaming that you two are dating?

CHARACTERS: Kalim Al-Asim x Reader 🦦🦐

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; In a Relationship (kinda)

WARNING: Spoilers from Book 7 and Kalim’s dream (Eng Server)

WORD COUNT: 3.540 words

COMMENTS: This was written as a companion piece to the original dream story, so the parts that are the same as the game are just summarized.

I hope you enjoy 🦦

Dating in a Dream: Idia / Epel / Rook / Vil / (Kalim) / Jamil / ...

“Aether signal tracking successful.” Ortho announces. “We have arrived at the designated coordinates.”

Right after, what was heard were Vil's screams. After calming down, scolding you and Grim for not warning him about what dream to dream trips were like, and arguing a bit with Idia to the point where Ortho had to get in the middle peacefully to stop the discussion, Vil and the others finally look around to try to figure out where you all are.

They realize that, once again, you are not in Night Raven College and that the architecture is very similar to Scarabia and Scalding Sands, but also... that it's unbearably HOT! To cool off, Grim doesn't think twice before jumping into the huge fountain right next to you. A fountain with a statue that caught everyone's attention.

“That old man seems familiar, somehow.” Silver comments.

“That's the legendary Ruler of the Oasis.” A familiar voice explains. “He was a very upright man. When something worried him, he'd never keep it to himself. He consulted his retainer for everything... And they solved those problems together. In fact, he even revised the law to adapt to changing times. Isn't that cool?” Kalim reveals himself. “Here at Qasr Sultanate Academy, we honor the Ruler of the Oasis's spirit of magnanimity.”

“KALIM?!” Everyone is surprised to see him in those white and turquoise clothes.

“Hm? Have we met before?” Kalim asks. “Sorry, I'm not very good at remembering faces!” You see the dreamer's bird around his head. “Are they your friends, (Y/N)? Sorry I don't remember if you've introduced us before.”

“You still remember me?” You ask.

“HUH?! Of course I remember you!” he looks at you sadly. “Aww... Are you mad that I don't remember your friends? I understand and I'm so sorry...”

He was clearly so sad at the thought of hurting your feelings that you felt the need to tell him that you weren't mad and that he didn't need to worry because no, you never introduced them to him yet.

“Are you sure you're not mad at me?”

“No, no, of course not. Forget the question.” You needed to know more about that dream world, so you get into character. “I think I got a little confused too. It's okay.” You give him a reassuring smile.

“Really?!” Kalim widens his eyes in surprise. “I don't think I've ever seen you get as confused as I do. Ah hah hah! Maybe it's one of those couple things where they start to share traits after being together for a while.”

“Hm? Couple things?” Silver asks.

“I guess reintroductions are in order. I'm Kalim Al-Asim, a sophomore at Qasr Sultanate Academy, and (Y/N)'s boyfriend.” He says with a huge smile.

Everyone looks shockingly surprised.

“Hm? What's wrong?” Kalim asks. “Oh, maybe you weren't expecting us to be so close because of our clothes. Speaking of which, why aren't you wearing your uniform, (Y/N)? But now that I look at it, you seem to be wearing the same clothes as them. Oh! I know, they were your classmates at your previous- ah!” Kalim's smile suddenly disappears and the regretful look returns. “Oh... sorry... I forgot for a moment that you weren't from... here...”

“Oh, it's okay.” You try to shrug it off. “These clothes... um...”

“Are a gift.” Vil says. “But don't worry about it. (Y/N), you can change your clothes if you want.” Vil says, encouraging you to do so.

You say yes, and that new clothes might be better for that whether.

“Yes, you’re right. You don't have any headwear to block the sun, and the fabric your clothes are made from doesn't seem very breathable... Ah!” Kalim gets concerned. “Now that I'm looking, you guys are seriously sweating!”

“Rgh... This black fabric is absorbing the sunlight.” Sebek says “It's like I'm in a sauna!”

“Same.” Ortho agrees. “My gear's internal temperature is rising so sharply, my cooling systems can't keep up...”

“Oh gosh, are you okay? Hold on, I'll get you some cold, refreshing water! Respite in the scalding sands, a neverending party. Dance! Sing! Oasis Maker!”

And it starts to rain gently on you all.

“Mmm, that truly is refreshing!” Sebek says gratefully. “I can feel the water's coolness seeping into me.”

“While I appreciate the gesture, you shouldn't splash water into people's faces. You'll ruin their makeup.” Vil says. “Could you put some in this cup instead?” He summons a cup in his hand.

Upon realizing that they are also mages, Kalim begins to ask about the school they came from. You also discover that Qasr Sultanate Academy is an Arcane school as well and Kalim says it was built by his father for him two years ago.

“Ooh, say! I'm sure something brought us together.” Kalim says excitedly. “You should tell me more about your own school!”

“Ah, this presents a perfect chance to probe fo weakness in the dream!” Ortho comments discreetly.

“True. But...” Vil addresses Kalim. “It's far too sunny out here. I don't want to get a sunburn. Would it be possible to head indoors for this discussion?”

“Ah hah hah! Why move, when we can just have shelter brought to us? There's a nice breeze going, after all. Hey, everyone! Prepare a party!”

Kalim claps his hands and a bunch of people start organizing things. Rushing in with parasols and tableware, laying out rugs and setting out food dishes. Kalim explains that they are retainers who came here with him from home.

“Oh, (Y/N), do you mind if I try to change your clothes?” Kalim asks as the retainers prepare the picnic “I love it when we match!” You accept and he becomes even happier and more excited. “Okay, this has gone well the last few times. Let's see if I can do it again.”

Kalim raises his staff and transforms your NRC uniform into a white and turquoise uniform similar to the one he is wearing.

“You always look so pretty in those clothes.” He says super happy. “You remind me of the Ruler of the Oasis's daughter. But I must have told you this many times because I remember you telling me that our story was backwards, and that I was more like the princess and you were more like the commoner. Ah hah hah! But regardless of your clothes, you know you're my jasmine, right?”

“Jasmine?” You ask.

“Yeah, like the flower that the princess's beloved offered her. Aww, if only I could summon a branch of them now... but I still don't have a good grasp of those spells.”

And then, discreetly, a familiar red magic carpet appears behind Kalim, taps his shoulder to make him look back and gives him a jasmine bouquet before flying away again.

“Ah hah hah! I think he's feeling shy around so many new people.” he hands you that bouquet with a cute smile. “I have to think of a way to thank him later.”

“Kalim Al-Asim.” Ortho asks after the picnic is ready. “You and (Y/N) make a beautiful couple. If it's not too indiscreet, may I ask how you two met?”

“Oh, yes! Of course!” He seemed excited to tell the story of the two of you. “You know, they're not from-” he stops and looks at you, as if looking for approval to reveal that information. You nod encouragingly. “They're not from Twisted Wonderland.”

“Oh! Truly?!” Vil acts surprised, as do the others.

“Yeah! Here at Qasr Sultanate Academy we have a magical artifact called The Hourglass of Clairvoyance. It’s a giant hourglass with magic sand that allows us to travel to other places. At the beginning of this school year, (Y/N) simply emerged from the sand at the bottom of the hourglass and Grim at the top.”

“Oh, so I'm part of this too? Nice!” Grim comments to himself. “Wait! If I'm part of this... Where's my tuna tray?!”

One of Kalim's retainers appeared beside him with a golden tray and when he uncovers it, it is full of glass jars of tuna stacked in a pyramid.

“That's what I'm talkin' about! Mrah ah ah!”

“Yes! The party is ready. Make yourselves at home and eat up!” Kalim says with a smile. “We've got a whole spread here and plenty more where that came from. To our meeting today! Cheers!”

And everyone does so.

“Mrah... That breeze they're makin' with those big fans feels so good!”

“Right?” Kalim agrees. “The sun's rays can be harsh in the Scalding Sands... But it's also arid, so it's pleasantly cool once you're in the shade. You should try some of these crackers with blue cheese. They're really good. Eat up!” Kalim proceeds to shove the crackers down Grim's throat.

They talk a little more about Qasr Sultanate Academy and Night Raven College. Sebek, as expected, found a way to show how proud he was to serve the great Malleus Draconia, and Kalim proved to be quite knowledgeable about Briar Valley's textile products thanks to the things his father told him. This also made Sebek mention the story of the King who got rid of all the spinning wheels in the kingdom to save his daughter, and Kalim says that he finds the story as beautiful as the story of the Ruler of the Oasis's daughter who fell in love with a commoner and in order to see his daughter happy, the Ruler of the Oasis changed the law so that she would be allowed to marry whoever she wanted and not just someone from royalty.

“I can imagine how happy the couple was.” Kalim says before turning to you, holding one of you hands affectionately, look you in the eyes and tell you: “I myself would be devastated if I couldn't be with the person I love the most just because of a silly rule.” and he kisses your cheek.

Meanwhile, Vil, Idia and Ortho talk among themselves about that dream, which to anyone else would be crazy enough to be unrealistic, but in the case of a guy as rich as Kalim ends up being plausible enough. They needed to discover the crucial moment in Kalim's life that Malleus' spell was trying to suppress so they could use it to wake him up. They were wondering why he didn't remember NRC, where he seemed to be very happy, when you and Grim joined the conversation.

“Hmm... This could fit what happened with Rook.” Idia theorizes. “A route that avoids a tragedy that unfolds due to attending Night Raven College.”

“What kinda tragedy would Kalim goin' to Night Raven cause...? Ah!” Grim realizes.

“Is it what happened over winter break...?” You question.

“What's all this commotion?” A familiar voice makes itself heard. “What's going on, Kalim? Nobody told me to expect company! How many times must I tell you to always inform me ahead of time when inviting guests? If you had...” You see Jamil wearing the same white and turquoise uniform as you and Kalim. “...I would have arranged for an even finer banquet and a whole band!” And with an uncanny smile on his face.

“JAMIL?!” Everyone says in astonishment.

“I'm surprised you didn't tell me either, (Y/N).”Jamil continues, still with that strange, happy and relaxed smile. “You're usually the one who reminds Kalim of these things when I'm not around. Come now, Kalim! If you're holding such a fun-filled event, you should invite me. After all, aren't we best friends?”

“Sorry about that! I just ran into them over by the fountain when I was looking for (Y/N). They're here from Night... uh... something, an arcane academy in a foreign land.”

“Ooh, I see! I'm Jamil Viper. Like Kalim, I'm a sophomore here at Qasr Sultanate Academy. I hope I can be just as much of a friend to you as my best friend Kalim and his partner (Y/N). Nice to meetcha!”

“What's wrong, (Y/N)?” Kalim asks you as the others introduce themselves back to Jamil. “You're looking at Jamil funny.”

“Oh, it's just... Jamil is not like this, Kalim...”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Hey, Kalim.” Jamil says. “I don't see your favorite ice cream in this spread. Shouldn't you serve that to our guests?”

“I figured they'd want a regular meal first. But hey, I'm getting full, so this should be a good time for it!”

“In that case... You should make a run to the kitchen and fetch some for us, Kalim.”

“He DEFINITELY wouldn't say that!” You, Sebek and Silver say in unison.

“Huh?! What's with the yelling all of a sudden?” Kalim asks.

“Kalim, think long and hard.” Silver says. “You grew up with Jamil. He's your friend. Is this really how he acts?”

“Huh? Wha? You guys know Jamil?”

“Yeah! And all this best friend talk...” Grim says annoyed. “Remember over winter break when you told him you wanted to be friends? He shut that down hard with a big fat 'Not on your life!'”

“Not on... your life? Jamil said that?”

The dream world starts to distort and Kalim begins to remember what happened that day in Scarabia.

“Urgh! What was that just now? Augh, my head!”

“Kalim! Hey, snap out of it!” Fake Jamil interferes. “You people... You're assassins after Kalim, aren't you?! Guards! GUAAARDS!” The floor was painted black by the goop that appeared to transform into the guards. “Seize these street rats!”

While the others fought the darkness figures, you managed to escape and run to Kalim to tell him not to listen to that Jamil.

“Are you going to tell him to believe you?” Jamil says with a mocking smile. “Oh Kalim, there’s someone I'm dying to introduce you to.” He takes out his magic pen. “Say hello to your precious,” he makes your headdress disappear. “Desert” Your upper clothes turn into a worn and baggy t-shirt. “Bloom.” The rest in baggy, torn pants and your shoes disappear.

“(Y/N)?...” He holds your hands and looks into your eyes, confused.

“Not quite.” Jamil stands between the two of you to separate you with a push. “An impostor posing as (Y/N). An identity thief!”

All of that makes Kalim's head hurt even more, the ground becomes unstable and the darkness takes you away from them.

“Kalim, stay with us. (Y/N) is safe inside the academy building, and the guards are here now. It's okay!”

“Hey, Jamil... You're my best friend, right? You wouldn't betray me, right?”

“Of course I wouldn't. Why, the very idea!” Jamil assures him. “Such a terrible thought has never even crossed my mind! Not once!”

“STOP LYIN'!” Grim shouts. “You betrayed Kalim bad, and you knocked us all to the end os the earth!”

The world distorts again and the scenery changes to where you and the others landed that day. The end os the earth, a dark and cold part of the Scarabia desert.

“The ends of the earth...? Whoa! It's freezing!” Kalim is startled. “What's going on here?!”

“Oh, poor Kalim.” Fake Jamil says. “You must be reeling from the shock of betrayal after showing these people such hospitality.”

The world distorts again and the scene returns to Qasr Sultanate Academy.

“Look at me, Kalim. As long as I'm here for you, you've got nothing to worry about... Right?” Fake Jamil uses his signature spell, Snake Whisper, on him. “Kalim, trust me.”

“Rgh...” Kalim closes his eyes as if trying to resist, but when he opens them again his pupils are glowing red. “I trust you... Jamil...”

“He's trying to manipulate you!” You try to warn him again.

“Manipulate... me? Jamil? Augh!” With yet another headache from Kalim, the world distorted again.

“I would never do that. Don't believe that imposter street rat. Look at my sincere gaze. Do these look like the eyes os a liar?”

Vil tells Kalim not to look Jamil in the eyes, but the fake Jamil keeps talking about how they've been friends since they were kids, and how they had always been open and honest with each other, never worrying about their social status. That he is Kalim's closest companion and Kalim is his.

“You're right...” Kalim says despite the headaches. “We're best friends that can be honest with each other... Rrgh!”

But this is where Vil interferes and says that being honest is far from being an attribute of Jamil. That underneath that composed expression, he's poised and ready to strike at the neck of those who dare get ahead of him. And the smoldering, hungry mindset is the reason he put Jamil on main vocals in the NRC Tribe.

That name sounds familiar to Kalim, but the fake Jamil tries again to convince him not to listen to Vil.

But Vil continues, talking more about how Jamil is not the kind of generous soul that affirms everything about him. How Jamil complains, looks down on others, always got a scheme or two up his sleeve, and is hardly trustworthy. Vil would never want someone like him as his most trusted retainer. But Kalim is positively stubborn and that's what makes him continue to insist on trying to be true friends with Jamil. But is also what makes Kalim him and what makes him so fearsome.

“What kind of wealthy business heir is content to remain in an imposter's clutches?” Vil concludes. “Stop cowering and wake up already, Kalim Al-Asim!”

“Kalim, look at me.” Fake Jamil insists. “I'm the only one you trust!”

“Rgh... No.... Not... the only one... Not anymore... and Jamil knows that... the one I trust... Aaagh!”

The memories return to Kalim, a sequence of events from that winter break and everything that followed after that. The dream is broken, and Kalim wakes up. The scene changes to Scarabia's lounge that day, the cloudy sky darkening the place, the red lights on the lamps and through the clouds and a slight chilling fog around you all.

The fake Jamil tries again to help Kalim and show concern, but Kalim pushes him away. It's true that Jamil worries about Kalim, but not because they are friends, because he is the boss of Jamil. He likes and wants to be friends with Jamil, but the real one, not that one.

A battle against that fake Jamil takes place, until that figure turns into black goop and disappears. The clouds dissipate revealing a beautiful starry night sky, the lights turn a warm yellow that illuminates the lounge and the fog disappears.

“Kalim! Are you all right?” Silver asks worriedly as he sees Kalim sobbing and huffing after the fight.

And that's when Kalim breaks down into tears. Seeing him like this, crying kneeling on the floor alone, you can't suppress the urge to kneel down beside him to hug and comfort him.

“How... How could I fail to realize that Jamil was a fake?!” He says crying on your shoulder. “I really do want us to be true friends... The kind that can be totally open with one another! But... in the end, I choose a version of Jamil that fit my own narrative. How can I ever face Jamil again?”

But then Kalim realizes something else, and lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you, now dressed in the NRC uniform.

“Wait... You... We are not dating either, are we?... Ah!” He pulls away from you, blushing and almost falling backwards. “Aah, I’m s-sorry! I-I didn't mean to... huh...”

You also liked Kalim, but his friendly and loving personality made it difficult to tell if he really had a crush on you or not. A question that was answered in that dream. However, you still ask about it.

“So... You really like me?”

“Hm? Yes... you never noticed? Ah hah hah! I thought I never hid my feelings.”

“In (Y/N)'s defense,” Vil explains. “It's more a question of when someone is so... loving to everyone, it becomes difficult to know who is really special to you and who is not.”

“REALLY?! Aw... I’m sorry, (Y/N). I didn't mean to confuse you. But... I also don't want to make you uncomfortable... I'm sorry if I did...”

You say it was a surprise, but that you didn't feel uncomfortable, quite the opposite, and you reveal your feelings for him too. Kalim gets astonished for a second, but then he shows you the biggest smile and throws himself at you to hug you with more tears in his eyes.

“Should we leave you two alone for a moment?” Ortho asks.

“Ah hah hah! Sorry, sorry.” Kalim stands up and extends his hand to help you get up as well. “It's true that Jamil was the only person I trusted, but that was before I met you. You are the person I trust the most, (Y/N). Now and forever.”

“Kalim is so extra that this sounds more like wedding vows.” Idia comments through the tablet. “Can someone PLEASE end this mushy torture?!”

Vil clears his throat quite loudly. “Far be it from me to ruin the moment, but could we get back to the main topic?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re right.” Kalim turns his attention back to the rest of the group. “I'm totally lost on why I look like this and why any of this is happening. Could someone fill me in on what's going on?”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst fluff #Twisted Wonderland Fluff #Kalim Al-Asim #Kalim Al-Asim x Reader #kalim x reader #Dating in a Dream

607 notes · View notes

meo-eiru · 3 months ago

Note

I like to imagine Elias as an insane and extremely messy concubine from those historical cdramas PFFT. Especially in his “omg you came to see me!” Sketch. Mc would be the emperor of course! Poor guy would die to palace drama for sure.

Elias would so secretly poison another concubine if you decide to visit them at night instead of him.

This AU kinda goes hard actually I'm getting a lot of ideas.

Imagine he's the son of a normal family but was blessed with incredible good looks by the gods. Due to that beauty he was yearned by all sorts of nobles which made his family get a lot of riches as gifts but he kept refusing all of them.

Until one day you, the ruler of the country, came to personally visit him and he fell in love with you at first time, saying he would marry you even before he saw what gifts you brought for him.

It's all amazing, he's prettied up by the helpers you assign for him and you two quickly go back to your palace. He's so happy the whole way there but little did you know it's the quiet before the storm.

Once you arrive there he becomes aware of the fact that he's not your main husband but a concubine. He's distraught and extremely angry, what do you mean he has to share a rank with other man. He's clearly the most beautiful one here. Okay maybe you two don't have a child yet but so what? Are you really going to prioritize tradition before him? Even though he loves you so much? Do you not love him is that it???

After that it's just constant chaos. Your other concubines getting poisoned left and right, some of them straight up getting assassinated, a few of them returning to their village while crying due to continuous bullying. Elias even breaks into the rooms of the concubines you decide to spend the night with while you're there.

You've considered sending him back many times but you just can't bring yourself to. He's like a rare flower, with a lot of nobles keeping their eyes on him. Just his existence brings you political power, and not to mention when you do spend the night with him he's like a dream.

While he might be hurting the others due to his selfishness it's also true that he loves you in a way no other concubine does. As a ruler most of the relationships you have with your concubines are for politics but it's Elias who wraps his arms around you as soon as you enter his room. Engulfing you in the flowery scents he covered himself in and kissing you like you two are soulmates fated to be together. He's the one who looks at you with those loving eyes while his face is completely red and his body is warm under you. He's the one who holds your head in place through the whole night to make you look at him, like a sweet hypnosis he puts you under.

So it doesn't take too long for him to impregnate you with a child, quickly raising to the imperial consorts status before everyone else. It doesn't slow down his terrible behavior outside of the bedroom though. In fact it fuels it more some might say.

He has this air of superiority to him, knowing he has won against the others even while coming from a lowly background. He spends so much gold spoiling himself, buying the prettiest clothes and hair pieces, receiving the best skincare and makeup.

But you can't say no to him right? He's your beautiful rare treasure after all.

#asks #elias #yandere pretty boyfriend #yandere pretty boyfriend x reader #yandere #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #writing #yandere oc #oc #original yandere #yandere original character #original character

781 notes · View notes

waitineedaname · 9 months ago

Text

i was thinking my little thoughts while falling asleep last night, and a concept occurred to me: what if binghe learned about the system not from shen qingqiu, but from shang qinghua

look, he likes shang qinghua alright. he's pretty disinterested in p much anyone who isn't shen qingqiu, but on the list of People Luo Binghe Tolerates, shang qinghua is relatively high. he gave him advice on wooing sqq, after all, and sqq likes his company, so binghe tolerates his shang-shishu

but the thing is, shang qinghua is a spy. has been for decades. binghe knows this. really, everyone knows this at this point, which isn't a great look for a spy, but still. and since shang qinghua is a spy for mobei-jun, who is a subordinate for luo binghe, then technically shang qinghua is also working for him, but you don't get to the position of demon emperor without a healthy amount of suspicion for everyone in your court

so he decides to test shang qinghua a little bit. nothing major, just a little poking around in his dreams. he starts out with a subtle touch, just sifting through his memories. most of it is what he expected. he sees his time on an ding as a disciple and then later as peak lord, he sees him working for mobei-jun. he sees mobei-jun in some compromising situations, which he files away for later, and then sees him in an entirely different flavor of compromising situations, and binghe immediately decides to act like he never saw that

then he decides to take a more direct approach and starts nudging the dreams in other directions, to see how he might react to certain scenarios, test his loyalty. he expects shang qinghua to act cowardly, or bluff his way through a situaton, maybe even draw his sword if pushed far enough

what he doesn't expect is for shang qinghua to frown at the changes luo binghe made and go "I didn't write it like this"

what

binghe is so bewildered by that response that he loses his grip on the dream for a second, and before he knows it, shang qinghua has spun the dream scenario back into the way the scene originally played out. he steps back and looks satisfied. "there we go," he says. "that's how it went. you know, if I'd known I'd be dealing with this scene myself, I would've written it differently"

what the hell does that mean?

fascinated, luo binghe continues to test him. most of the time, when he toys with someone's dream, they're completely unaware of the changes. shang qinghua, despite not seeming aware that he's lucid dreaming, seems very aware of how each scene should go. except for, strangely, many of the scenes that binghe himself was in. binghe pulls up one from his disciple days, one of the times he remembered shang qinghua coming to qing jing on some errand. he hadn't even changed anything yet, had just let the dream version of his younger self launch himself at shizun in a tacklehug, but shang qinghua tsks and takes the reins from him before he can make any edits. "sorry bing-ge, but that was just way too out of character," shang qinghua says. the dream copy of luo binghe's younger self is sent further away, watching the peak lords with a sullen gaze. he's skinnier than binghe remembers being at this age, and one of his eyes is swollen with a purple bruise. that doesn't make any sense, luo binghe thinks. he hadn't been beaten on qing jing peak for years at this point.

the shen qingqiu beside shang qinghua in the dream stands with his back straight as a ruler, and when his gaze lands on luo binghe, he sneers behind his fan. shang qinghua sighs. "cucumber-bro really wasn't as good of an actor as he thought he was. he's way too soft to ever seem like the original goods."

alarmed, luo binghe dispels the dream and steps out of it entirely. sure, he knows shen qingqiu's personality changed almost overnight when he had that qi deviation. everyone knew that. he avoided questioning it much, unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth when it meant having a shizun that cared for him

but shang qinghua. shang qinghua seems to know something more about shen qingqiu's personality change. something he's not sharing. luo binghe didn't like the idea that one of his subordinates could be hiding something as vital as this from him

well, this had been a test of his spy's loyalties, hadn't it? perhaps he should make a visit to an ding. he had some questions.

#svsss #luo binghe #shang qinghua #didn't mean for this to get so long whoops under a read more it goes #my writing #<- more freeform than i usually do but i've seen other people do similar things with svsss posts #setting this free into the wild #i think lbh and sqh should interact more #demon lord and his favorite shishu. author and his whump protagonist.#now how does the confrontation go when binghe asks him about this?? who knows. that's for you to decide #i only got this far

670 notes · View notes

yandereunsolved · 9 months ago

Text

Yandere Aegon with barkeep reader—you aren't getting paid enough for this.

cw(s): yandere themes & suggestiveness

Yandere Aegon always escaped to Fleabottom to indulge in pleasures and escape painful memories. The weight of the crown on his head nearly snapped his neck every time he was forced to wear it. Yet here, in Dragon Breaths Tavern, he was simply another stranger within the crowd of thousands. He always chose to conceal his appearance, but his voice was always what gave him away.

He has a favorite barkeep: you.

You always listen to his ramblings. You make sure he has somewhere to sleep when he is far too intoxicated to escape back to the castle. You're irritable and snap at people. It's hot. You never let anyone get away with anything in the bar, not even him.

Mhm.

He'd whine your name in the middle of the night when his mind was far too gone to care about the possible consequence.

Yandere Aegon is incredibly talkative while drunk. His depression, or known at that time as just an incurable sadness, was on full display. He'd ask for your strongest drink and order so many that he forgot his name and title. It was almost endearing. He'd babble on about what made him sad, and you'd listen attentively.

You didn't have to worry much about people realizing he was the king. The ones that did disappeared. They were murdered, most likely.

You may have no formal education, but that doesn't make you completely inept.

You could see the unhinged glint in his violet irises. You could tell he was getting attached. You just couldn't do much about it. You need the job, and he never forgets to give you a hefty tip for your service.

Yandere Aegon has propositioned you on multiple occasions. Most of the time he's plastered, a handful he's not. He always gives you a sly smile and some fleeting touches. You scolding him only makes him want you more. He's hard more than he's drunk.

Whether you agreed to it or not, the only difference is time. If you love him, then you get your freedom just a bit longer. If you're stubborn about your love, then he'll make sure there are chains around your hands, ankles, and most importantly, heart.

Yandere Aegon makes you take a job in the castle. You become the cupbearer. It's a job that doesn't bring much excitement, unless you count pompous nobles talking through their asses 'excitement'. You make a good amount of coin. Your social status rises faster than a dragon taking to air.

Your own room. A room near Aegon's.

It is as if he purposefully thinned the walls, much to your displeasure. You can hear the moans from whores and Aegon alike during the hours when everyone is given rest. It's an endless torture that slips into your dreams, making them wetter than you've ever dreamt before.

Yandere Aegon has many people thinking it is inappropriate to have a commoner suddenly peak the king's interest so blatantly. You are no longer the dirt on the bottom of the nobility's shoe. You are almost equal, if not greater, due to the protection you are afforded by the ruler.

Rumors aren't needed. They will say their peace to your face. They don't fluff it up with their frivolously sacchariferous words. Those who dare are crude and ruthless.

The next day they'll end up with their heads on pikes outside the castle.

Yandere Aegon wants you as a second spouse. He fucks other whores, but only because he can't have you all day and night. He'll stop after the both of you get married. He knows it's a pipdream. He's the king, though.

Who is going to stop him?

It's not going to be Alicent or Otto.

He's not letting Aemond fucking touch you. Asshole tried to char him once. He got out with multiple scars, but he is able to walk and is still quite a looker. Aemond won't steal you. He'll the gut the fucker before it comes to that.

Yandere Aegon just needs alcohol and you. It's the only two things that're keeping him securely tethered to this world. Your specialty is alcohol. It's a match made in the heavens.

tags: ( @kawaiicoffeedream ) & ( @littybeech )

#yandere #yandere x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #yandere hotd #yandere hotd x reader #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #yandere asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf #yandere aegon ii targaryen #yandere aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen

437 notes · View notes

legendofmorons · 9 months ago

Note

Your honor, I humbly submit an idea that has not left me alone for a solid few months. Seriously. I can’t escape it.

Reader is a hero. Well, kinda. They are a hero in their dreams in the most literal sense of the phrase.

When they were younger, they had this incredibly strong love for the Legend of Zelda and Mario and all manner of games where you could simply help people for the sake of doing good. They weren’t too shocked when their dreams took a more realistic turn. As they slept, they felt like they were living a second life where they were the hero. They would go around solving problems, collecting items, and generally saving the day. Some nights, the dreams would be from different times, based on different adventures, or fighting different people.

Those dreams had always felt extremely real to Reader, yet they knew they were just dreams. When morning came, they moved on.

That was the norm until a strange portal appeared in front of them. The summer was coming and they had no better plans, so they threw caution to the wind and stepped through. When they came to, they found themselves clad in the same clothes they wore in every dream, surrounded by the items they had grown so familiar with adventure after adventure.

They had gathered their things, realizing they instinctively knew how to fight, similar to what had happened on that first night. They wandered the area, heroic persona seemingly taking control, heading towards a town and immediately solving problems.

In fact, that was how they found the chain, while attempting to solve another problem. Something told them to keep their name close to their chest and they weren’t in the business of going against their gut, so they listened. They used a nickname in a group full of nicknames.

A long while of traveling and growing trust (and one particularly heated story rendition where the reader just plain forgot to censor their name) and Reader had shared their name with the group. They were met with stunned silence which was, admittedly, not the reaction they were expecting.

As it turned out, each of those dreams became stories to these heroes, acting as a guide on how to act, what to try. In their eyes, Reader was a hero of story and legend, someone kids played at being.

How do you think the boys would move forward from this?

-VS Anon

Dreamscape

Pairing: Chain & reader

Rating: G

Notes: (Y/n/n) - Ypur nick name. I wrote the opening and then skipped the middle, I hope it's okay. I just really wanted to write the meeting.

Summary: You find yourself in the world of the dreams you played hero in, but apparently those dreams were more real than you thought.

Warnings: none.

Other: I saw you submitted something along these lines more recently. VS, do you want a second take on this? I am willing to do another take, haha. As always, if I missed anything, please let me know

-------

You have always had a vivid imagination, at least according to those around you. But you can't really argue. After all, your dreams used to feel like a whole other world. A second life of sorts.

You'd loved games where you played a hero. Legend of Zelda? Amazing. Mario games? Absolutely.

Over the course of your life, you built what would have been quite the legacy in your dreams. You had countless items and had even been blessed by a sages.

Summer hangs in the breezes, due to start any day.

So, when a strange purple portal with a spooky energy opens up before you, you go through it. You don't have much else going on, and don't imagine anything too weird coming of it.

A shield, that was gained from a forest. Wooden with metal enforced ages and a beautiful swirling design carved into it.

You emerge in a small clearing with birds song cheerily overhead.

In front of you is a pile of items. Items that you know, because you collected them in your dreams.

A sword, gifted by the ruler of a fairy kingdom. The blade is enchanted to never break and to absorb any malice.

A small stachel that clips to a belt that is a bottomless bag. Anything you put in there appears in your hand once you reach in and think

A small cluster of potions. One that heals, one that provides stamina, and one that protects from fire.

Even the small flute from your travels.

"What the hell?" You murmur, looking at your hands.

You realize then, belatedly, that you are in the same outfit from your dreams. The leather armor on your limbs and the breathable fabric comfortable.

This is officially Weird, with a capital 'W'. This- doesn't seem like a dream. Not at all.

Ypu gather your items, securing them as you have many times before. You brush yourself off and look around for more details.

The clearing you're in is nice. Wild flowers are scattered about and there's a rabbit at the edge.

A river runs through it.

Well, your best bet is to find a town or something, and you heard once that towns are often near rivers. So, in theory, if you follow the river, you'll be okay.

You head off, following the river downstream and hoping for the best.

-------

After two days of travel you have come to a few more conclusions.

First of all, you can fight. Like- really well. You fought of monsters that included a lynel, some lizards, and several bokoblins.

Second of all, walking for two days straight sucks but also you aren't as exhausted as you probably should be.

And third of all, this is definitely not a dream.

You're starting to wonder if this second life was ever a dream.

The third day you find a small town, but a town nonetheless. Thank whatever it is that looks out for you.

You make your way towards the store, hoping to stock up on arrows and food. You've accepted this is your life for the moment, might as well be prepared.

Unfortunately, while lost in thought you trip and stumble into someone. You are both sent sprawling to the ground.

With a groan, you rollout of them. You sit up and say, "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, are you okay?" A male voice asks.

You turn to look at him and nearly chokes. You find yourself staring at the Link from Skyward Sword.

Okay, this is a lot.

"Uh-" You manage eloquently. Blinking as you try to formulate some kind of response.

"Did you hit your head?" Another male asks, he has pink hair. That's another Link, the one from Link to the past and s several other games.

"I think I might have." You frown, pushing to your feet.

You look around the group and find it made up entirely of Links from different games.

"That's no good, you need a potion?" Asks Twilight Princess Link.

"No... Just a little dazed." You wave him off, "Ever since I walked through a portal it's been a little weird."

"You walked through a portal too?" Asks Wind Waker Link.

"Yeah... Why?"

"I guess you're supposed to help defeat the shadow." Muses what is probably an older version of Majoras mask Link.

"Maybe."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, I'm Twilight." The Link in a wolf pelt says.

"I'm Time."

"Legend."

"Hi, I'm Wind!"

"Wild."

"I'm Warriors."

"Hyrule!"

"I'm Sky."

"Four."

You know these are all nicknames, so you decide to give your own nick name. You have a feeling your real name will cause- a scene.

"I'm (Y/n/n)."

-------

Time can't stop thinking about the connections between you, (Y/n/n) and the hero (Y/n). You both have the same items, the same personality, and even the same appearances.

The hero you remind him of is legendary, chosen not by Hylia but by a deity before any remembered. A hero chosen Fierce Deity.

He comes back to the conversation in time to catch the tail end of your story.

"Ams then my friend was like "Stop hiding from them, they don't remember ypu tripping two years ago, (Y/n)."

"What?" Hyrule chokes.

"You're name is (Y/n)?"

About time. Fierce purrs from the void inside Time's mind.

"Uh- yeah?"

"You're The (Y/n)?!" Wind demands.

"Oh stars." Time mutters.

"I mean, maybe?"

"You're The one who slayed the hydra of Catan?" Wild blinks.

"Oh. I mean, yeah. That wasn't a big deal." You shrug, "It needed to be done."

"You rode a tornado!" Legend accuses.

"What? No I got swept up in a tornado."

"You knew the original sages before Skyloft even exsisted!" Sky gasps.

"Yeah?"

"You're the biggest hero ever." Warriors manages, sounding awed, "How are you unaware?"

"Uh...I didn't think that stuff mattered?"

"Are you kidding? Kids play games where they pretend to be you." Four says, looking horrified at your unawareness of your importance.

"Oh. Neat?" You say shakily.

This makes no sense, your dreams - if they were ever that - never seemed like you would be a hero of legend important enough to be known millenia later across different timeliness.

"You really don't know." Legend muses wryly.

"Glad I helped?"

"You are telling us all about your adventures." Wind informs you.

#lu #linkeduniverse #misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu four #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu sky #lu time #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu wild #lu wind #Dreamscapes au

404 notes · View notes

justmenoworries · 3 months ago

Text

It's actually insane how obvious the double-standards in the HH-fandom are when it comes to Lilith and Lucifer. I have seen so many people villainize Lilith despite the fact that we know next to nothing about her while putting Lucifer on a pedestal, even though from what we see they're both flawed characters.

"Lilith abandoned Hell to live in Heaven!"

Lucifer straight-up abandoned Hell from day one. Until her disappearance, Lilith was the one doing the actual ruling while Lucifer was making rubber ducks and who knows what else in his workshop.

Lilith was the one inspiring and uplifting their people and making sure that Hell was at least acceptable to live in and not just a dirty hole in the ground. Lucifer never even tried.

We don't know why Lilith went to Heaven or if she has a bigger plan and what that plan might be. But y'all are pretty quick to judge a character who hasn't even had any spoken lines yet.

"Lilith is going to sabotage Charlie!"

We don't know that. Yes, Lute demands of Lilith to stop Charlie's plans for redeeming sinners, but the scene cuts off before we get Lilith's response to that.

And guess what Lilith's very first reaction to Lute telling her to deal with her daughter so that Heaven can stay on top is?

A displeased frown. You could interpret that as her just being annoyed that she has to leave her sunny beach (which is what most HH-fans seem to be going with) but honestly from what we know of Lilith, I think it's more plausible that she's upset about, y'know. This angel trying to strongarm her into stopping her daughter from achieving good societal change for their people.

"Lilith was a bad mother!"

Again, we don't know that.

And seeing how Charlie speaks of her, I don't even think that's true. Whenever Charlie speaks of Lilith it's with fondness and admiration.

Lilith is the person who inspired Charlie to found the Hazbin Hotel.

Lilith is the one whose love for the kingdom of Hell was transferred over to Charlie. Whenever we hear Lucifer talk about the Sinners he rules over, it's with disdain at best.

Yes, she's been absent for a long time in the show's present but let's be honest, how long is seven years for immortal beings? And before that she spent Charlie's entire childhood teaching her daughter to love and cherish Hell and it's inhabitants.

Doesn't really sound like an abusive mom to me.

"Lilith intentionally drove a rift between Charlie and Lucifer!"

This take actually annoys me the most, because there is zero evidence that Lilith ever tried to drive Lucifer and Charlie apart.

HH-fans really like to jump on the one flashback in "More Than Anything" where Lilith takes toddler Charlie from Lucifer to prove that Lilith supposedly tried to drive a wedge between them but I honestly don't see it? Lilith was literally just taking her daughter into her arms, can y'all chill???

Adding onto that, the reason why Charlie's and Lucifer's relationship is strained in the present is because of Lucifer. The show pretty much spells that out for us. Lucifer spent years holed up in his palace instead of talking to or even just supporting his daughter.

And when, after years of radio silence, Charlie makes the first step to reach out because she needs his help, Lucifer not only continuously badmouths her dream and the sinners she's taken under her wing, he flat-out tells her that he doesn't believe in what she's trying to do.

Really, if Lilith wanted Charlie and Lucifer to drift apart, she didn't even need to do much, Lucifer did a fine job alienating his daughter all by himself.

TL;DR It's interesting to see how many people immediately jumped on the Villain Lilith-train, even though everything we see and know about her positions her more as an anti-hero, while Lucifer is the unambiguous poor uwu Good Boi despite the show establishing him as an absent father and an abysmal ruler.

#lilith morningstar #hazbin hotel lilith

145 notes · View notes

a-d-nox · 9 months ago

Text

astro hypothesis: what's your ideal bedroom like?

once upon a time (a year ago) i spoke of using your house rulers to deep dive into the story of the houses. i did a hypothesis about money and another about careers - but what about your home? for that take a look at your 4h and the persona chart of its ruler (ex: my 4h is in gemini, i will be looking at my mercury persona chart NOT my ic persona (thats more family and childhood dynamics in my opinion)).

today i want to focus on somewhere critical to all of us - our bedroom. you can look at the 12h and/or the moon in this chart to get a better idea of what your ideal bedroom looks like or should be like to feel most rested and comfortable.

why?

the 12h rules over solitude (where you might go to escape everyone else in your household), the subconscious (where we supposedly go in deep sleep), etc.

the moon rules over comfort (what we find comfort in), the subconscious (which connects again to deep sleep and dreaming), cycles and rhythms (hi sleep cycle and circadian rhythm), etc.

paid reading options: astrology menu & cartomancy menu

enjoy my work? help me continue creating by tipping on ko-fi or paypal. your support keeps the magic alive!

so here are some observations of what i believe to be important to a room based on these factors in your 4h ruler's persona chart.

a capricorn (10°, 22°) moon / 12h saturn / capricorn 12h / moon aspecting saturn person likely wants a minimal room. they don't what a lot of clutter - if their room is cluttered they might be experiencing a lot of waking/life stress/anxiety that is effecting their sleep. they like neutral and natural colors in a room - beiges, "agreeable grey", dark green, and dark blues in particular allows them to feel calm and as though they are able to relax. arctic white paint or cool white light may trigger them into feeling like they are in work mode instead of relax mode. they seek quality furniture that is timeless - they don't want to constantly have to replace the pieces they have in their room because they don't last or no longer fit the style. they don't want to have to think at the end of the day that something broke or they hate a piece because it doesn't fit the trend anymore and they now have to replace it. they don't want another thing they have to do, they just want to crash. organization is key - everything in their room should have a spot. they want everything that belongs in there to have a place (books are organized by author/series, clothing is color/season organized, glasses have a spot on a side table, jewelry has an organizer that rarely changes, etc). there is often a very refined and elegant feeling to their room. the sheets have a classic design (they are white or white and grey), the mirror is elegant yet classic, the bed is simple yet fits and fills the space well, etc. and most importantly room darkening curtains and lots of blankets (no capricorn/saturn person wants to be awakened by the sun or because they are too cold at night)!!!

a gemini (3°, 15°, 27°) moon / 12h mercury / gemini 12h / moon aspecting mercury person might have a rather eclectic style in their room. it might feel like they are testing out a look or like they have a lot of different vibes that don't necessarily fit one another. color finds its way into this room no matter what and it is often multiple colors at once that draw a person's attention. its very strange because this space is never just a sleep space for them often its multi-functional in some way shape or form like they have the ability to have a sitting space for others... could be a chair or a window seat or a desk... speaking of desks - books, vinyl, cds, gadgets, etc are a big part of the gemini/mercury vibes in a space. often their media have a spotlight moment in a room. lastly this space has an air of awareness in it - its not totally sleepy vibes, you know for sure when you see this space its not just for sleep. this is a place of study, reading, music listening, etc. it might just feel like not much sleep occurs in the space at all!

leo (5°, 17°, 29°) moon / 12h sun / leo 12h / moon aspecting sun rooms are warm and inviting. there are likely gold elements or warm paint colors used in the room. luxury is a must - the bed is likely memory foam or plush - the pillows are probably hotel/high quality. the comforter is down feathers and/or a fluffy/fuzzy blanket is present. it is very likely that stuffed animals are present too or at least one that is too adorable not to be there. there is some sort of central piece in this room - a giant mirror, a big art piece over the bed, a grand wall of books, etc. something in the room is guaranteed to always get a compliment from people who peak in during a house tour. it is also rather common especially in younger years for these people to keep their awards/trophies on display in their room as it fills them with a great sense of pride. windows are very important to this person's bedroom too as they tend to enjoy natural light when they can get it.

aries (1°, 13°, 25°) moon / 12h mars / aries 12h / moon aspecting mars people love a bold look in their room. its the energy of platform beds, industrial metal frames, etc. if they can use an "aggressive" color (red, orange, yellow, etc) in a bedroom they will... however they like a modern and sleek look despite their bold color schemes. they also like a minimal room - the bedroom is for their bed - point, blank, period. it's about having the essentials nothing more nothing less. they won't being using decorative pillows they have to remove every night or a decorative blanket that just hangs over their footboard. heavens forbid a decorative ladder with a decorative blanket that's not for use but for the eye. if they can't use it, they don't need or want it in the space it will just make them annoyed and cause them to feel like everything is in the way of them getting to the relax/wind-down portion of their day. now strangely enough, they often workout in their bedroom, so it wouldn't be shocking to find a pull up bar in the doorway or a peloton bike in the corner of the room. and 10/10 they will be getting up using an alarm - but it is rather unlikely they will need multiple alarms to make them get out of their bed in the morning.

likely more to come on home hypotheses, as i look to make renovations to my own home despite/because of being creatively burnt out. thank the heavens for astrology doing the leg work.

have ideas for new content? please use my “suggest a post topic” button!

return to nox’s guide to metaphysics

return to nox's hypotheses

#astrology #astro community #astro placements #astro chart #natal chart #astrology tumblr #astrology chart #natal astrology #astrology readings #astro #astrology blog #astrology stuff #astrology signs #astro notes #astro observations #astroblr #4h #persona chart observations #persona chart

244 notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 11 months ago

Text

The Fall from the Heavens (Epilogue)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: description of hard childbirth, fluffy sex, hate sex, smut, angst, kid catching his parents having sex, anxiety, depression, childhood feeling of rejection ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

We have reached the end of this journey: I hope this epilogue gives you a taste of what their family life was like. I had a lot of fun writing this from three perspectives and I think it's a great ending to this series. Thank you to everyone who was with me and supported me. You may cry that the main series is over, but there are still two modern AUs in which we will see Aemond and Rhaenys again!

Aemond & Rhaenys's Children Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Aemond

It turned out that there was a role that terrified him more than being a ruler-regent alongside his wife and it was fatherhood. He was ashamed to admit it, but it was easier for him to understand the needs of the kingdom than his own son.

He was dominated above all by a sense of terror which made him freeze all over, not knowing what to do or how to behave. He first felt it when his niece suggested that he should take their newborn child into his arms.

"I don't know. You better hold him." He muttered, seeing in his mind all the possibilities of what he could do wrong and inadvertently hurt their son. His wife looked at him indulgently.

"Come here. Sit next to me." She said, encouraging him with a nod. He pressed his lips together, tense, and approached her slowly, sitting down beside her on the soft bedding. Viserys yawned loudly, twisting in his mother's arms, calm and content, his belly full of her milk.

He swallowed hard, horrified when she shifted towards him, wanting to hand him the infant in his hands. He immediately put his arms under him, afraid to drop him.

"Put his head here, on the bend of your arm. Just like that, support him with your hand on the other side. There you go." She said warmly, pleased at this sight. His heart stopped in his throat as her hands let go of his small body and his son remained in his embrace.

He was afraid that without his mother's familiar presence his son would begin to cry and become anxious, but he slept peacefully, snuggling into his leather tunic.

He was ashamed to feel the emotion and the burning tears under his eyelids looking at his small face, his tiny hands clenched into fists, thinking how great a burden was on him, though he did not yet know it.

On his son.

He swallowed hard when he felt his wife's hand on his back, her temple pressed against his cheek, looking at the scene.

"Isn't he beautiful?" She asked softly, and he was silent for a moment, feeling that he was struggling to find the right words to answer her.

"It's the most beautiful, innocent being I've ever seen in my life." He muttered and closed his eye in surrender, feeling a hot tear run down his cheek. She heard his heavy, uneven breath and leaned in, wanting to see his face.

"– oh, my love – my sweet, sweet husband –" She whispered tenderly, placing warm, wet, lingering kisses on his cheek. He snuggled his face into her neck, wanting as always to hide from his fear, insecurity and pain in her familiar vanilla-scented flesh.

From that moment on, holding Viserys no longer frightened him so much – what's more, he felt a sense of satisfaction when his son squirmed and squealed at the sight of him, happy, reaching out his small, chubby little hands to him, longing to be in his arms.

His father had never done that, but he had no intention of making his mistakes.

For this reason he took turns reading to him at bedtime with his wife. Sitting on his lap, Viserys gazed with big eyes at the richly illustrated legends of their ancestors, his little legs willowing in excitement every time dragons appeared on the pages of the book.

"Soon your dragon will hatch." He whispered in his ear, pointing his finger at a large vessel hanging over the hearth with a dragon egg inside, Daemon's gift to his grandson.

"You will fly in the skies. You will be king of the Seven Kingdoms. You will be fearless, fair, loved. I will be by your side." He hummed and kissed his plump, pink cheek.

His wife watched them with a smile, relaxing in a warm bath after a long, tiring day full of their duties.

The evenings, nights and mornings were just for them.

For their family.

She finally stood up from the water, throwing only a soft, cream-coloured robe over her body, tying it around her waist, reaching out her hands for their son, who had just fallen asleep in his arms.

"Don't wake him." He mumbled out in pain, purposely not moving from his seat unwilling to interrupt his slumber, handing Viserys to her. She laughed quietly under her breath, walking with their child towards the bed, sitting down on the sheets.

"I won't. Our little boy will eat his meal in his sleep." She hummed, slipping the sleeve of her robe off her shoulder, revealing her sweet, plump breast, all swollen with milk.

He swallowed hard, watching enthralled as his son, still asleep, in a natural reflex clamped his lips around her nipple and began to suckle with a purr of satisfaction.

He was ashamed of how he himself loved tasting her now, how warm and sweet her milk was melting on his tongue, how hard he was getting at the very thought that as soon as she laid their son down in the cradle, he would sink deep between her thighs as he did every night, cuddled into her fragrant body, listening to her sweet moans, only to fill her again with his seed.

The news that his wife was expecting his child again filled them with joy, and the birth of their third son reassured the entire kingdom – Viserys, Aegon and Daeron had secured the line of succession.

However, this time his niece endured the hardships of childbirth worse than before.

"Aemond!" He heard her desperate cry from behind the door of her chamber and, despite his brother's attempts to stop him, he walked inside.

He was horrified to see her blood all around her, her face at once pale and red from tears of exertion, her swollen lips parted in loud, pitiful moans.

"– uncle – the baby won't come out – oh gods, oh gods, oh gods –" She muttered, tilting her head back in a sudden panic attack, her mother began to comfort her quickly, squeezing her hand in her own.

Not knowing what to do with himself, he walked over to her, sitting down next to her on the bed, grasping her hand in his.

"– I'm here – I'm so sorry, my sweetest – I'm so sorry –" He mumbled out in a trembling voice, cradling her in his arms, feeling her go breathless all over, a squeal escaping her lips and a quiver of discomfort as another contraction shook her body.

"– fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, gods, please! –" She sobbed, and all he could do was cuddle his face into her hair, his heart pouding like a mad in horror.

He wasn't sure he'd experienced anything more terrifying, more heartbreaking in his entire life.

"– just a little more – I can see the head – there it is, push, Princess, push now –" She commanded, and by some effort incomprehensible to him, after several attempts, his niece forced his son out into the world, who wept loudly in Alys Rivers' arms.

"– he has your hair, Princess –" She whispered, and his wife breathed a sigh of relief, wailing loudly from the exhaustion, horror and pain her whole body went through.

Alicent and Rhaenyra promised to look after their children so that their mother would have a few days to recover – Viserys and Aegon were only allowed to see her for a moment, once the bedding had been changed and he had helped her dress in a clean, snow-white nightgown.

"– I envy him – your dark hair is more to my liking –" Aegon muttered, glancing over Alicent's shoulder at the infant she held in her arms.

"– enough – your mother needs to rest –" He said shakily, unable to pull himself together after what had happened, seeing with what difficulty his niece was smiling at their sons, trying to pretend that all was well.

He knew it wasn't.

She burst out crying in his arms as soon as they were alone, panting and whooping with her tears, his hands stroking her back and hair tenderly, trying to soothe her.

"– I'm so sorry – I know, my love – shhh – I'm here –" He whispered, kissing the top of her head again and again. His niece swallowed loudly, trying to catch her breath.

"– forgive me – forgive me for making you watch this –" She muttered helplessly, as if she was ashamed that she had forced him to look at something that was meant only for the eyes of women.

"– no – I would not forgive myself if you had to go through this alone – my sweet, brave wife – now just rest –" He whispered. She breathed a loud sigh of relief and snuggled into him, calming down slowly, exhausted after the hardships of childbirth and the emotions she had experienced.

He carried her in his arms because she couldn't get up or sit up, helped her bathe, change and eat, wanting her to know that her suffering and sacrifice for him and their family was not indifferent to him. Knowing that she needed rest, for days he would fall asleep by her side stroking her head, shoulders and back, letting her sink into the safe embrace of his arms.

However, he couldn't help what he felt as he looked at her, that he desired her and her body, that he wanted to touch her.

That he wanted to make love to her.

At some point, he realised that the desire she aroused in him was different than it had been at first: from a fiery, burning feeling of wanting to taste the forbidden fruit again and again, his needs had changed over the years and he knew that no other woman could satisfy them.

It was not because he did not find other women beautiful or worthy of desire, but because only her body brought him solace, only her hands touched him in a way that made him hot, only her scent sent shivers down his spine, only her bright eyes shone with a wonderful warmth at the sight of him.

Her insides were always ready to receive him, silky, moist and hot, giving him a sense of security, her naked body soft and inviting – his manhood, already without his mind's involvement, reacted with a joyful, excited pulsing and twitching in his breeches at the sight of her, equating her with the pleasure he experienced every time.

He concluded that, just as men became addicted to wine or cards, he became addicted to his wife's closeness.

Therefore, he couldn't explain to his painfully swollen erection why suddenly, despite his wife's constant presence next to him, he couldn't touch her and had to be patient: he craved her constantly and died lying next to her, unable to sleep from the tension.

One night his niece, feeling the way his swollen length was pushing, tucked into his breeches, against her stomach, took pity on him, gripping his fat, warm manhood in her hand. He moaned like a helpless little boy, rolling his hips to the rhythm of her strokes, her fingers giving him an encouraging, assured squeezes at the base making his heart begin to pound like mad.

"– please –" He muttered, his hand sinking into her smooth hair, his lips, puffy with desire, found hers in a hot, wet, sticky kiss full of their teeth and tongues.

His wife knew his manhood well – she teased the head of it, leaking with his desire, with her thumb, making it pulsate all over and tremble in her embrace, her tongue gently licking his, making him fall apart in front of her after a moment, desperate. He groaned with a loud sigh of pleasure, closing his eye in relief when he felt his hot seed spurt out onto her nightgown.

"– fuck –" He gasped, feeling a complete and wonderful emptiness in his head, her small body snuggled into his.

He heard her smile.

"Try to sleep now, husband."

That night, indeed, he slept a stony sleep like a small child.

Over the following months, they both slowly pushed the boundary: his niece again let his fingers sink tentatively into her fleshy, velvety folds, his fingers teased her nipples when, after his tender treatments, she finally reached fulfilment in his arms, moaning his name loudly.

"– put it inside me, uncle – please –" She mumbled helplessly one night, rocking her hips so that again and again her buttocks rubbed against his yearningly swollen manhood.

"– I can't, my sweetest – not yet –" He muttered – her small hand clenched on his arm which embraced her, her warm womanhood all pulsing, leaking with her sticky wetness under his fingers.

"– please – please, husband, I can't take it anymore –" She cried out in despair – he grasped her cheeks in his hand and twisted her face, only then seeing that tears were running from her eyes.

"– are you sure? –" He muttered in a trembling voice, feeling his whole manhood tremble and pulsate with desire, dreaming only of sinking into her warm walls again. His niece nodded her head quickly, making him grin involuntarily.

"– this little cunt misses me so much? –" He murmured affectionately and she nodded again, her pink, puffy lips parted in a sigh as the tips of his two fingers began to stretch her swollen, wet slit.

"– come here –" He murmured and she cried out loudly as he released his swollen erection from his breeches in a sure, aggressive motion, dreaming of feeling her this way again for weeks, immediately directing the head of his cock dripping from his moisture onto her tight, throbbing opening.

The feeling of being deep inside her again was an almost spiritual sensation – they both sighed and groaned as if relieved that they could be one body, one person again.

"– that's it – there you go –" He gasped, rolling his hips, sliding slowly deep into her only to slide out of her almost fully a moment later, again and again opening her swollen entrance on his thick, pulsing erection with the quiet clicks of her wetness.

"– good gods – I didn't fill you for so fucking long – my poor wife left without my seed –" He muttered with difficulty, his eyes closed while he longed to focus only on this, on her warm, soft, moist walls squeezing him greedily where it was so safe, so good, thrusting into her more and more confidently, feeling the familiar tightness in his stones proving that he was surprisingly close to reach his peak.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled, and nothing more than their sighs, moans and cries left their throats until they came together, panting heavily, all soaking wet and hot from the exertion.

His arms embraced her tightly, his lips placed quick, hot kisses on her shoulders as his chest clung to her back, their legs entwined together in disarray.

"– gods, I missed you –"

Viserys

Viserys knew no other married couple who behaved as his parents did in the solitude of their chambers. He had witnessed many times conversations between his mother and his father, the fearless, menacing One-Eyed Prince, rider of the mightiest dragon walking on the world.

He could hear the man he feared and admired at the same time listening silently to his wife's words, her comments on his decisions and their validity.

His mother had never challenged him in public during the meetings of the Small Council, but she did so often when they were already left alone, and his father, to his surprise, did not explode with anger, as was his custom, but listened to her with calmness and respect.

His father allowed himself to be touched only by his wife – only she could take his hand, stroke his cheek, sit on his lap when they thought no one could see.

He had witnessed them embrace, his father's lips pressed against her ear as he stood behind her back, his hands met with hers on her lower abdomen, stroking her skin hidden beneath her night robe, his words meant only for her.

Only once had he seen his father terrified: when his mother, standing by his side in the throne room as they listened to the lords' speeches, suddenly fainted, unaware that she was already carrying his sister in her womb at the time.

He remembered that the day had been exceptionally hot, and his mother had been feeling ill since the morning: in accordance with the agreement, neither she nor her husband could sit on the Iron Throne, so they stood before it during a gathering of the whole court.

His father, usually cool and composed in his actions, rushed towards her to catch her, and then began shouting at the guards to lead the lords out of the room and bring in the maester immediately.

Viserys sat by her bed with his younger brother, Aegon, holding her hand in his, listening in silence to the exchange between his father, the maester and his grandfather.

"The Queen Regent should not strain herself. She is expecting your child, Your Grace."

"So soon?" Mumbled his father, as if surprised – his youngest brother, Daeron, had been born only five months earlier.

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Are you surprised? Don't you know how children are brought into this world?" Daemon hissed.

Viserys and Aegon pressed their lips together, looking in horror at their father, who was staring at their grandfather wide-eyed, breathing heavily, furious.

He had never heard anyone speak to him this way before.

His father looked away as if he felt ashamed, bitter apparently at having contributed to his wife's suffering.

His mother awoke after a few hours, but she was weak and the maester ordered that she should lie in bed for a few days and gain strength.

His father gave up his daily routine to simply sit by her side, sinking into reading great volumes about the history of Essos.

He wanted to make his mother smile and lift her spirits, however, he had no idea how he could do this and was afraid to ask his father.

He decided to seek a woman's advice.

"If your mother was tired and sad, what would you give her?" He asked Alyssa, sitting with her on the grass under one of the trees. His cousin pressed her lips together, swinging her legs, lying on her stomach.

"Field flowers. Or cakes. No, some beautiful letter. Or you could recite her a poem!" She began to quickly throw out ideas, excited, her blue eyes bright and beautiful, her long white eyelashes and hair pinned up in a braid glistening in the sun.

"I'd rather it be that one thing." He muttered, not wanting to make a jester of himself in front of his father.

"Field flowers." Alyssa decided.

"How will I know which ones are the right ones?" He asked reluctantly, as a man never delving into these, in his mind, girly, tendentious matters.

He breathed a sigh of relief when his cousin suggested they go to the gardens and pick them together.

Already standing outside the door of his parents' chamber, he began to feel doubts about whether what he wanted to do was a good idea.

What if his father will think that he is weak?

That he is behaving like a little girl?

If he looks at him with disapproval and embarrassment?

"My Prince?" He heard a voice behind him and saw a smiling woman, one of his mother's servants, who had apparently brought her warm soup.

He could no longer escape or retreat, so he went inside with her.

His father rose from his seat, his face expressing cold frustration.

"Why did it take so long?" He asked, the woman lowered her head.

"Forgive me, Your Grace."

"What is it?" He turned his words to him, looking at what he held in his hands. He swallowed hard, feeling his cheeks turn red with shame.

"Flowers for my mother. I wanted to make her smile." He muttered. His father blinked, silent for a moment.

"Good. Go to her. But don't torment her for too long. She needs to rest." His father said, and he nodded quickly, feeling the hard pounding of his heart, all hot with terror.

His mother was delighted with his bouquet composed of carnations, daisies, poppies and dandelions, her warm smile and look full of tenderness made him immediately calm down.

"Thank you, sweet boy." She whispered, stroking his cheek with her soft, familiar hand. She wanted to embrace him, but he moved away involuntarily, because he didn't want her to do this in front of his father.

Nine months later, his first little sister, Visenya, was born.

He remembered only a few years of his life during which his mother had not been with child.

He did not understand why, when he already had four siblings – two brothers and two sisters – there was still a need for more to be born.

Aegon, his brother, once told him that it was because of what married couples did at night – the septon explained to him that offspring resulted from a marital, physical union.

When he was sure he was alone in the library, he read in shame a small volume devoted to the begetting of descendants. He felt disgust and discomfort when he read about a man inserting part of his body between the woman's thighs, filling her with his seed.

It sounded foreign and unpleasant, and he wondered more and more whether his mother was actually in pain and needed to experience a bit of rest.

He dared to raise the issue one day during their supper together, which was a great mistake on his part.

"Aren't you tired, Mother?" He asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She and his father looked at him puzzled, his father having just handed her a tray of goose pate.

"What do you mean, my love?" She asked softly, as always looking at him with a tenderness and attention that made him feel safe.

He swallowed hard, looking reproachfully at his father, who was just taking a deep sip of wine, watching him vigilantly, his healthy eye shining uneasily in the firelight.

His father was mysterious, distant, beyond comprehension.

Cold.

Frightening.

"I struggle to recall a time during which you did not carry a child inside you. After all, your inheritance is secured, shouldn't you be able to rest at last?" He asked, bewildering his mother. His father pressed his lips into a thin line, frustrated by his remark, setting his cup down on the table with a loud clink of steel.

"Don't ever address me or your mother this way again. Apologise to her immediately for your inappropriate words." His father said slowly and coolly in a manner from which an unpleasant shiver ran down his spine, his eye wide open.

"Aemond." His mother turned to him, stroking anxiously her slightly rounded abdomen.

His father looked at her and licked his lower lip, silent – he knew that they communicated now, as they were sometimes in the habit of doing, by sight alone, without using words.

"Perhaps it would be appropriate for you to explain to your first-born son why I carry your child inside me again?" She asked with emphasis, her husband's lips curved in displeasure.

His father looked at him with a gaze from which he lowered his head, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart – he heard him lift the cup to his lips and take a deep sip of wine from it.

"There is no need."

Although when he was a little infant he had been in his father's arms as often as he had been in his mother's, the more he matured the more distant his father's figure seemed to become, inaccessible as a stone fortress.

They spent time together during sparring in the courtyard, where he trained him in the wielding of the sword, and while studying the language of Old Valyria, bent over old tomes.

His father was a strict and demanding teacher – although he never humiliated him or mocked him, he could see when his father was frustrated and he suffered deeply because of it.

He knew that there was only a three years left until he would be crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms and felt that he did not deserve it. It seemed to him that his father, looking at him, thought the same thing.

Compared to him, he was weak.

How could he surpass the greatest warrior in the world, able to speak as much about war as history or philosophy, knowing the language of their ancestors, riding the mighty Vhagar?

"Father does not love me." He muttered once, when they were alone in his chamber and his mother was helping him dress before they all set off for the Great Sept. She shook her head, cupping his cheeks in her hands.

"Your father loves you, Viserys. He cares about everything about you, but he can't show it." She said, looking at him in pain.

"He can show it to you, Mother." He replied reproachfully, not understanding why he did not have as much understanding and patience for him as he did for her.

She was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the stone floor beneath his feet.

"I am his wife. We are connected by a different bond, the kind that a man and a woman share." She explained, and he pressed his lips together and shook his head.

"No. He just loves you more than any of us." He replied dryly, pulling himself out of her embrace and walked out of the chamber, fastening the buckles of his tunic himself.

He was now thirteen years old, he was already a man and his mother, no matter how much he loved her, no longer had to help him dress as if he were a small child.

One evening, as he was about to inform his parents of his decision as to the guest list for the celebration of his Name Day, he heard from behind the door of their quarters sounds that disturbed him.

It seemed to him that his mother was moaning in pain.

When he opened them quietly and peeked inside, he saw his father's body from the side, pressing his mother to the bed, his hips rocking inside her in quick, deep thrusts with loud clicks of something wet and sticky, his hand holding her cheeks between his fingers in an iron grip as he looked down at her.

Although he always wore it in their presence, now he didn't have his eye patch on his face.

"– do you like the way he looks at you? – hm? – do you think I don't see him following you with his gaze? – dreaming that it is his child that you are carrying inside you? –" He hissed maliciously, pounding into her aggressively, making his mother squirm beneath him, driving her short nails into his shoulders as if trying to defend herself.

"– n-no – no, uncle –" She mumbled, panting loudly, her breath heavy and ragged, droplets of sweat on her skin.

Why was he hurting her?

Should he scream, come inside, tell him to stop?

"– no? – maybe I should gouge his eyes out? – if he doesn't know he's a fool, that he has no fucking right to desire you –" He growled, pressing his forehead against hers, panting and moaning along with her as the bed began to creak loudly under them with each of his thrusts, his mother tilting her head back and closing her eyes, an expression on her face that he didn't understand.

"– Aemond – Aemond, Aemond, Aemond –" She cried out, pressing her husband's body against hers, crossing her legs over his bare back as if she didn't want to let him go, and after a moment they both made loud, almost animal-like sounds as if relieved, and his father's body fell on top of her without strength.

He swallowed hard, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart as he saw his father's hand brush his mother's cheek, his lips placing tender, lazy, loud kisses on her face as if she were a small child, whispering something to her.

His healthy eye opened suddenly, his pupil narrowed in shock when he saw him standing in the threshold of their chamber.

He ran away quickly, terrified, thinking his father would kill him with his own hands.

He trembled as he ran back into his chamber, sitting down on the bed, feeling that he was quivering with fear.

That his father would surely deprive him of his throne and banish him for what he had done, that he dared to look at their naked bodies like some disgusting sinner.

He shuddered and jumped up in his seat when, a moment later, the door opened and indeed his father stood in it, already wearing a shirt and breeches, his sapphire glowed in the warm firelight.

He curled into himself, prepared for his blow or scream, but his father just stood there looking at him, breathing heavily.

He sighed loudly and closed the door behind him, then walked slowly towards him, surprising him by sitting down next to him. For a moment he sat bent over, leaning on his elbows with his face hidden between his hands.

He finally looked at him and, to his surprise, he did not see rage in his gaze.

"Viserys. These are intimate moments meant only for my and your mother's eyes. What came to your mind to do this?" He said coolly but calmly.

He swallowed hard, red with shame, feeling that he was shaking, trying not to cry like a little girl out of fear.

"I thought… I thought you were hurting my mother. That's what it sounded like. Like she was in pain." He muttered.

His father pressed his lips together and licked his lower lip, then nodded.

"I see. It's good that you care about your mother's safety and want to protect her. However, know that I would never hurt her." He finally replied.

"Then why did she suffer?" He asked further trying to understand what he had actually seen.

His father sighed, picking at the cuticles around his fingernails as he always did when he felt discomfort.

"She didn't suffer. When we are very close, we experience pleasure so strong that it borders on pain."

"Is that why mother is expecting a baby again?" He asked quietly, and his father swallowed hard, tense.

"Yes."

"Is what you are doing... a sin?" He asked in a trembling voice, his father throwing him a quick, surprised look.

"No. Not when it takes place between husband and wife. It's… you cannot be closer to another human being than during this act. Me and your mother want to be as close as possible and we derive pleasure from it."

They both remained in an uncomfortable silence for a moment.

He felt that this was his chance, an opportunity to ask his father about all the things he had been unable to comprehend and had never had the courage to bring up in his presence.

"Why do you call my mother Rhaenys? After all, that is not her real name, is it?" He asked, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

His father swallowed hard, staring dully ahead, thoughtful.

"For me, it is."

"Don't you like her real name?" He continued, trying hard to get anything out of him.

"She always said she wanted to be like Rhaenys, the younger sister and also one of Aegon the Conqueror's two wives. She called herself that to frustrate me, because I always said I would rather one day have a woman like Visenya as my betrothed. She used to call herself that in the letters she sent to me."

"Letters? My mother sent you letters?" He asked, surprised, hearing about it for the first time.

His father fell silent for a long moment.

"Yes. More than fifty over eight years. I never wrote her back to any of them."

He blinked, looking at him in disbelief, feeling his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"Why? Didn't you love her back then?"

There was a kind of sadness, weariness and regret on his father's face that he saw for the first time in his life.

"Quite the opposite."

"Then why? She must have been so sad."

"She was."

He lowered his gaze, thinking with despondency that his father's mind was indeed beyond comprehension.

"When she appeared after eight years in the Red Keep, I asked her if she still wanted to marry me. And she, despite everything, still wanted to. Your mother always showed me more understanding than I deserved." He stated finally.

He nodded at his words.

"How did you know for certain that she would become your wife?" He asked uncertainly, playing with his fingers in a reflex he inherited from him. His father lowered his head, thoughtful.

"Your grandfather the King betrothed us when we were still small children." He replied.

"When you betroth me, will I also be that close to my wife?" He continued, and his father nodded.

"Yes. You will beget your offspring together and prolong your lineage." His father said.

"Will I also feel pleasure from her closeness as you feel it with my mother?" He asked uncertainly. His father pressed his lips together and scratched his chin, tense.

"I don't know."

His answer sent a cold shiver down his spine.

"I want to have a wife like you, Father. I want to love her." He whispered, thinking about Alyssa, about what he felt when he heard her light laughter, when saw her smile full of warmth and sympathy.

She was full of understanding and joy, always eager to listen to him and his, in his mind very adult, problems and musings.

It seemed to him that his father's breath had become louder, but he didn't dare look at him.

"I can't promise you that."

He squeezed his eyes shut at his words, unable to stand it any longer, warm, burning tears running down his face. He felt like a little child, but there was nothing he could do about it, because he was suffering.

"How am I going to be a King without a Queen to worship and love? How will I make you proud if I feel lonely and weak next to her? I want to be able to love someone just like you. I don't want to be alone all my life like I am now."

"You are not alone."

"I am alone. For you, I am only the effect of your pleasure and the relief of the Kingdom. You love only my mother. You see only her. You trust only her. You look only at her."

"That is not true. I watch over you even though you don't realise it. I am trying to make you strong so that the crown, when it is finally placed on your head, will not crush you. You are my first-born son. We have awaited your birth like a miracle." His father said. He shuddered when he felt his hand on his head, and then his strong arm drew him close, letting him cry into his chest.

He stroked his hair and his back the way his mother always did, feeling him place his forehead on the top of his head.

"I love you, but I cannot be weak in front of the court. You will understand me when you become king and father yourself." He said, and he nodded, snuggling into him tighter, his strong arms giving him the feeling that he was safe, that nothing threatened him.

"– my son –" He said in a way from which he felt warmth in his heart, pride and acceptance, the closeness of a man who in his eyes was closer to gods than men.

"I will not fail you, Father."

Rhaenys

Between looking after her first-born son and bearing her husband another child, she had to focus on helping him create the Small Council from scratch. According to her mother's will, they were both to be equal rulers as regents, and her uncle did not give the impression of being humiliated by this fact.

On the contrary, he relied on her advice and opinion more than she expected.

"Daemon cannot become the Hand of The King. He is too unpredictable. We need someone who is calm and composed. Putting your mother or my brother in that position could lead to further divisions, which we don't want. The person who takes over this role should be as neutral as possible." He said, pacing around the room, immersed in his thoughts. She sighed heavily, stroking her slightly rounded belly, inside of which her second son, Aegon, was growing slowly.

He knew he was made for long disputes about the role and amount of taxes, armies, harvests and all the needs of the kingdom, analysing it for hours on end, however diplomacy was not his domain and in this aspect he left a wide berth to her.

"The Queen Who Never Was. She will take neither side. Let her husband remain the Master of Ships. Let Daemon be, as he was in your father's reign, the Master of Laws – a sign of our respect for tradition, a tribute to King Viserys, who betrothed us. Let Borros Baratheon have his place according to your agreement so that he does not undermine our marriage. He is a stern and honourable man, so let him take charge of our treasury and become the Master of Coin. Let my mother and your brother be honorary members of the Small Council, without function, of equal position."

She said, spreading out comfortably in her chair. Her husband hummed under his breath and nodded, as if he recognised that, indeed, what she was saying was logical. He stopped in half a step, looking blankly at her abdomen.

"Pillows." He muttered more to himself than to her, as if he had realised something.

She raised herself up on her elbows and blinked as he took some from their bed and walked over to her, sliding them under her back for her comfort. She smiled involuntarily at his subconscious concern.

"I am grateful to you, husband."

"My mother insists that Criston Cole remain a member of the Kingsguard, but only as her sworn protector. I have decided that Ser Harrold Westerling should be reappointed Lord Commander in his place." He said, running his fingers over her lower abdomen, swollen from his legacy.

She nodded her head at his words.

"Yes. Ser Harrold is a man of honour."

They looked at each other for a moment, somehow surprised at the ease with which they had come to discuss this.

The prospect of building the Kingdom anew and the perspective of argument and tension frightened them, they were, however, closer to each other than ever.

With the birth of her third son, Daeron, the entire Red Keep breathed a sigh of relief, resolving the last remaining tensions between the Black and Green factions.

Her son refused to leave her womb for a long time, tormenting her for hours, but finally, with the help of Alys, who had come from Dragonstone especially to accompany her through this ordeal, her dark-haired son, came into the world.

The entire court rejoiced in the thought that their three sons secured the line of succession.

It seemed to her that the Red Keep was now divided into three parts: in one, the most representative, intended for the King and Queen, she resided with her husband and their three sons; in the second lived Daemon, her mother, their sons and Joffrey; in the third resided Alicent, Aegon, Helaena and their children.

The first meeting between Alicent and Rhaenyra after the pact was established in the Great Sept was full of tears. They locked themselves alone in one of the chambers to speak to each other about everything that had happened over the years.

The fact that Aegon had condemned his grandfather to death meant that both Daemon and Rhaenyra endured the presence of his family with understanding, however they each ate their suppers separately.

They, as part of the conflict to bring peace, also ate alone, accompanied by their little sons.

Viserys was a sweet and curious child – as soon as he began to speak, he immediately began to demand that his favourite books with large, colourful illustrations depicting great dragons and kings be constantly read to him.

Aegon, however, was a stubborn and expressive: he voiced his opinions and displeasure loudly, knowing, however, where the limit of her and his father's patience lay.

Daeron, on the other hand, was a smiling and joyful infant, laughing loudly whenever he saw the faces of his brothers above the cradle tickling his belly with their fingers.

"He makes such funny sounds out of himself. Like a little puppy." Aegon said.

Their life was happy and peaceful, and she felt that she could finally breathe and have a little rest from the hardships of carrying a child.

And then, a few months after that very difficult delivery, she fainted in the throne room, losing control of her body, falling numbly to the ground.

When she awoke, she immediately smelled his familiar scent, his broad hand stroking her head.

She lifted her eyelids and saw that he lay beside her without his eye patch, his hair loose, only his shirt and breeches on his body. He was lying next to her on his side, his other hand holding a book lying on the bed between them, absorbed in his reading.

He shuddered and looked up at her as she touched his chest.

"– Rhaenys –" He whispered, closing the book, placing a warm, lingering kiss on her forehead.

"– how are you feeling? – you fainted –"

"I know. I think it's the weather. It's been so hot today, my head has been spinning since this morning." She whispered, smiling warmly at him, wanting to comfort him with the thought that it was nothing too severe.

The look on his face and the way he swallowed loudly made her feel uneasy.

"That's not what made you feel this way, my love. It's…" He began, but fell silent, pressing his lips together. She realised after a moment what he meant, a shiver of fear and discomfort ran along her spine.

"So soon?" She mumbled, her eyebrows arching in disbelief. Her husband lowered his gaze, heartbroken.

"Yes. Forgive me." He muttered. She clamped her lips together as he covered his face with his hand and drew in air loudly, as if trying not to cry. "I knew you endured it badly this time. I knew it, but I didn't think it would happen so soon."

"I know. I know." She said, pulling his head towards her, allowing him, as he always did when he was scared and tired, to snuggle his face between her breasts and take solace in the embrace of her arms.

She could hear his loud, broken breath, could hear him sniff with his nose, his broad hands clenched on the material of her nightgown at her back, seeking comfort.

"– Rhaenys –"

Although by the next day her sadness and fear had vanished, replaced by joyful anticipation of what their next child would be like, her husband still remained withdrawn and thoughtful, clearly feeling remorseful towards himself.

His openness in her presence resulting from their bond and understanding remained only in the sphere of their marriage: in her husband's eyes, she was a person whose behaviour and needs he understood perfectly, with whom he knew how to speak, around whom putting his thoughts into words came easily.

Having witnessed daily his directness and lightness in conversation at her side, the change that occurred in him was all the more striking when anyone else joined their company: his mother, his brother, some lord or even their own son.

Her uncle was deeply affected by what a heavy burden and responsibility Viserys had to carry on his shoulders. He saw himself in him: quiet and withdrawn, filled, however, with her empathy and sensibility, making him more thoughtful and sensitive to someone else's hurt.

Her husband feared that the crown and what it carried with it would crush him: he did not know how to strengthen him, make him a man without breaking his spirit.

He feared nothing more than that he would become like his father: insensitive, blind to his real needs, to his cries for help that his son could not articulate.

How similar they were didn't help them communicate: her uncle cut his discomfort with harsh, short sentences, while Viserys shut himself away, terrified of his coldness.

"He is afraid of me. I can see it in his eyes." He told her one day, undoing the buckles of his tunic, wanting to lie beside her in their bed. She looked at him with worry, stroking her rounded abdomen and swallowed quietly, lowering her gaze.

Father does not love me.

"I fear that he sees himself in your eyes as a disappointment. He cannot understand the source of your harshness and distance, which I know is due to nothing other than your fatherly concern. Nevertheless, he needs to hear a few warm words from you for once in his life." She said pleadingly, looking at him as he lay down beside her, sighing heavily. He shrugged his shoulders, pulling the eye patch off his head, throwing it carelessly somewhere on the floor, frustrated.

"What should I tell him? That I'm proud of him? That he will always be my son? He shouldn't be king if he's such a fool as not to understand that without my affectionate words." He said dryly, a clear discomfort and pain in his words, his jaw clenched in a rage whose reason she did not understand.

She stared at him dully for a moment, stunned.

"Can you hear yourself, uncle?" She asked at last, and he looked at her with a sharp, warning look that told her to be careful of her next words.

"He craves your appreciation like a thirsty person craves water. But not only that. You are his father, and he does not know you, does not comprehend your person, your behaviour."

"Good. Does he need to understand everything? It's for his own sake."

"In your mind it's easy because you know what drives you. From his perspective, you are a cold, raw stone. He told me today that you don't love him. That you don't love any of your children. That you love only me. You don't even know how much those words hurt me and I know they hurt you too, but gods, he is your firstborn son. Have an honest conversation with him. Do you think he will ever come to you for advice or support when he feels weak? He will be ashamed, he will fear your wrath and he will drown in his own despair." She said in pain, feeling a squeeze in her throat.

Her husband looked at her with clenched lips and she noticed in disbelief that his gaze was exactly the same as hers.

He wanted to cry because of what he had heard.

She pressed her forehead to his cheek, placing her hand on the place beneath where his heart was beating, and he stroked her arm with his fingers, swallowing hard.

"What he said tonight, during supper. When he suggested that you should rest. He hurt me with those words. I felt like my own son was rebuking me. As if I were a bad husband and father." He whispered in shame – she shook her head, placing a warm, moist kiss on his cheek.

She felt him twist his face, sinking his nose into her hair, his hand hugging her waist and drawing her closer to his body in a natural need for closeness.

"He doesn't understand it. He only sees my tiredness during the hot days, the pain in my back, hears my screams when I bring his siblings into the world. He doesn't know what happens when we're here, alone, or the reason for it. Just as we didn't know it when you told me you wished to have seven children, just as there are seven gods."

Her husband accepted her words in his heart, and she hoped that with this, he and their son would finally speak honestly with each other.

Apart from that, there was one more thing that was occupying her mind – his Name Day.

Her husband did not like to celebrate this day because of unpleasant memories from the past and she wanted to change that at last. She knew that he despised pompous, grand feasts and dances, so she had no intention of giving him a surprise that would make him unhappy.

She did, however, want to give him something completely different.

A written and lavishly illustrated book on the history of Aegon the Conqueror and his two wives in one gigantic volume, bound in red dyed leather decorated with gold, made especially at her request.

She wanted to give him something that would delight and move him at the same time, ordering the scribe to put a quote on the first page from the philosopher and poet, Areon, whose book she had borrowed from him that day when she kissed him for the first time.

Turn behind me, companion

see if I am at your side

The darkness frightens me

but you are like a torch

with your light I will not die

In order for the surprise to remain a surprise, the request could not pass directly through her hands, hence she asked one of the guards for help, which, however, proved to be a big mistake on her part.

She thought at first that the man's open and eager approach was due to his friendly, warm nature. He agreed to help her and reported to her what stage the work was at, assuring her that the book would be done on time.

The first worrying signs began to reach her consciousness when she noticed that Ser Brandon was looking at her while he was guarding the chamber during the Small Council meetings in a way that made her uncomfortable.

She feared that he had perceived her proposal in an ambiguous manner thinking that it was merely an excuse to get close to him.

To her horror, his surreptitious, shameless glances were noticed by her husband.

"– are you fucking him? –" Her uncle asked as soon as they crossed the threshold of their chamber, grasping her cheeks in his fingers warningly, his eye wide in rage, making cold sweat run down her spine.

"– n-no – never – I –" She mumbled, feeling that her heart was pounding like mad – she moaned, surprised, as his swollen, wet lips pressed against hers in a hot, aggressive kiss.

"– I'll kill you if you lie –" Her growled into her mouth, his slick, moist tongue forcing its way again and again down her throat with quick, impatient, furious clicks as he made her retreat towards their bed with every step.

"– I swear, husband –" She exhaled wearily and squealed as he pushed her onto the bed, making her fall onto her back. He stared at her as if completely mad, breathing heavily, undoing the buckles of his tunic with aggressive swipes of his hand.

"– undress –" He hissed furiously, throwing the material of his garment to the floor, pulling his shirt off his chest, ripping his eye patch from his face a moment later. She nodded her head quickly, feeling her heart in her throat as he climbed onto the bed, placing his knees on either side of her body.

Whenever he was terrified he spoke in this dramatic way, as if he wanted to show her that her betrayal would be the end of his and her life.

She couldn't help how much it aroused her, his desperation and how much he needed her, his feigned aggression only for her to soothe him, for her body to reassure him that he was wrong.

She tried to untie the bonds of her gown as quickly as she could, however, it was not easy – her husband paid no attention to the delicate knots at her sleeves and literally ripped the fabric off her in a gesture that was more animal than human.

"– uncle –" She whimpered pleadingly as his hot, swollen lips pressed into hers again with his loud groan of pleasure and rage, her hand sliding lower to the material of his breeches, finding his hard, throbbing erection beneath them at last.

"– fuck – spread your thighs wide – that's it –" He breathed out, and she obeyed his command without a word, watching with excitement as the black leather material slid down his legs, leaving him wonderfully naked, just like her.

She cried out loudly, clasping her hands over his bare buttocks and back as he immediately stretched her swollen opening on the fat head of his erection, a low, helpless sigh escaping from their throats.

"– A-Aemond – mghmm –" She cried out, trying hard to fit in what he was forcing her to take, his manhood pulsing all over deep inside her, betraying how close he was to fulfilment, how aroused he was by what had just happened between them.

She, at his mercy.

She began to moan when he immediately imposed a fast, sharp, aggressive pace on her, his hips rolling to the rhythm of her body, thrusting again and again deep between her warm, leaking folds, despite the initial difficulty welcoming him with ease.

They both lost their temper, falling into a complete frenzy, their naked, sticky bodies slamming against each other with loud splats of their shared moisture.

"– do you like the way he looks at you? – hm? – do you think I don't see him following you with his gaze? – dreaming that it is his child that you are carrying inside you? –" He hissed through clenched teeth, gripping her cheeks again with his fingers, the thrusts of his hips teasing again and again the little bud inside her made it difficult for her to gather her thoughts: she was only able to look at his face, his lips parted in lust, his gaze filled with rage and love at the same time.

"– n-no – no, uncle –" She mumbled out with difficulty, her breath heavy as her fingers tightened on his naked, sweaty shoulders, her puffy nipples rubbing against the skin of his chest with his every thrust making the tension in her lower abdomen slowly reach its peak.

"– no? – maybe I should gouge his eyes out? – if he doesn't know he's a fool, that he has no fucking right to desire you –" He growled, pressing his forehead against hers, panting into her mouth, their hips coming up to meet each other in a desperate attempt to achieve fulfilment, her hands clamped down on his buttocks, again and again guiding his soaked, fat erection deep inside her.

"– Aemond – Aemond, Aemond, Aemond –" She cried out, tilting her head back, feeling a sudden wave of hot, tickling pleasure and relief surge through her nipples, through her lips, the tips of her fingers and her little cunt, which began to squeeze him greedily, her legs crossed over his back, refusing to let him pull away.

Her husband let out a low, helpless, almost animalistic groan and reached his peak inside her, filling her silky insides, clenching around his twitching manhood, with his seed. He fell on top of her after a moment without strength, his hand stroking her cheek hot with emotion.

"– it's not your fault – he's been watching you for weeks –" He whispered, placing tender, gentle, moist kisses on her face.

"– I swear to you that he is already… –" He sighed and froze suddenly, his body tensed in her embrace.

"– hm? –" She asked sleepily, struggling to open her eyes, trying to calm herself down after what she had just experienced.

"– fuck – Viserys –" He muttered horrified, pulling out of her quickly and grabbing his breeches, putting them on his legs.

"– what? –" She asked, rising up on her elbows, not understanding what had frightened him so suddenly, only noticing after a moment that the door to their chamber was slightly ajar.

"– has he seen us? Aemond, don't do anything foolish, don't shout at him! –" She called after him in despair as he put on his shirt in a careless, quick motion and left their chamber, closing the door behind him. She pulled her nightgown over herself, stroking her swollen abdomen with her hand, thinking about what to do.

After many minutes that felt like an eternity she became impatient, scared and tired, wondering why it had taken so long, whether she should go there and react.

She jumped up in her seat, feeling her heart in her throat when finally her uncle returned to their chamber, pale, his eye wide open. He cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed.

"We were just having a conversation. Like father and son." He assured her, seeing the look on her face as he headed towards their bed, laying down powerlessly on the sheets.

She immediately moved towards him, laying down beside him, pressing her forehead against his exactly as she had when they were children.

Her husband rubbed the tip of his nose against hers.

"You were right. It helped. He opened up to me and I opened up to him. I feel lighter." He whispered quietly, as if he was telling her his embarrassing little secret.

She smiled involuntarily at his words, placing her hand on his back.

"I'm so happy."

Her uncle hummed at her words, a gleam in his eye that she knew all too well.

"I also paid a short visit to the guard who finds it so pleasant to look at my wife. We discussed this… matter properly." He murmured, tucking an unruly strand of her hair behind her ear, causing a cold, wonderful shiver to pass through her.

"It turns out he's very attached to his two eyes."

325 notes · View notes

kozachenko · 9 months ago

Text

[Click for better quality]

Ok so as a sort of followup to that Yachie drawing, I did one of Yachie as well. I already had a pretty solid idea in mind (though tbh drawing her wasn't as fun as drawing Saki) but I'm overall pretty happy with this drawing.

Artist's Notes;

So I knew that I would never forgive myself if I completely missed the oppurtunity to give Yachie face scales, which is something that I haven't really seen many people do yet. I do feel like I could've pushed it a lot more, but I'm liking the direction my take on her is going.

I also wanted to take this opportunity to talk about some of my headcannons for how Hell's fashion works since I've had this on my mind for a while. So ever since I refined my own design for Zanmu, I really liked the idea of having there be some connection between her and Satori in their clothes because they're both the defacto "leaders" of their respective Hells, and then I had the idea of having Hell's fashion trends mimic real life history where it mimics whatever the upperclassman are wearing in someway? I've always been really fascinated with the idea of how Modern Hell works as a society and also how Old Hell was impacted by it's abandonment, and while I am aware that the animal realm isn't exactly Hell and is moreso it's own thing right next to it, I imagine that there would be some overlap in the fashion and culture due to their close proximity to each other. Of course, I still kept a lot of elements in from Yachie's original design, the only thing I really added to the outfit was the jazzed up sleeves and the bottom of her shirt as well as those cool triangle things ZUN added to her shirt in 19. I also have her some nice and sharp nails since I thought they fit her. I also tried adding some scales onto the tips of her ears though tbh IDK how well they read. Her colour palette also ended up becoming a lot more teal than I had anticipated, but I honestly like it as I love it whenever people make Yachie's colour palette and design a lot more teal. I also wanted to try and differentiate her face from Saki's, though I do plan on experimenting more on how to avoid same face syndrome, as it's a problem that haunts me in my dreams. There's not really much I can say here aside from "hee hee clothing rendering go brrrrrr" and how the Clip Studio Paint charcoal brush is really all you need for any given piece and it is literally the only brush I use aside from the occasional airbrush for lighting (sometimes) and the blend tools. I've been doing a lot more simple character art recently and I've just been waiting for a cool enough idea for a full blown piece.

Though now that I've talked about some of my headcannons about how Modern Hell works, I really just want a Touhou manga spinoff about Modern Hell. Like, please ZUN I'm begging you, just do it, it would be so fucking cool because Touhou 17 is literally the only time in modern Touhou when we've been to Hell proper, does modern Hell have any settlements of Oni and other Youkai? Does it have cities? Towns? Villages? What's the technological level of Hell? How do they keep sinners from pulling a Touhou 17 and summoning a fucking god to save them? Where do all the characters associated with Hell as of right now fit into everything? You can't just drop a character like Zanmu who is stated to essentially be the king of fucking Hell and then not elaborate further on how she fits into the general framework of Hell! Is she officially the king or is this more of a "true mastermind using the official king/ruler as a puppet" type deal? How does the Animal Realm fit into all of this? Did Hecatia purposefully create Hell so it would be right next to the Animal realm? Did it just appear there on it's own once Buddhism started popping off on Earth or was it established once Zanmu established Modern Hell? How long was Keiki a problem for, and how did that affect the rest of Hell? Seriously there are so many unanswered questions here and I don't know if I just need to read an interview Zun had where he was asked these same questions and if so please tell me because these questions have all been stirring in my brain for quite some time and I really wished we'd just get a new fucking manga instead of going over the same settings in Gensokyo over and over and over and over again dear god. Like, I get that there's still a lot to explore with what we already do have, but it would just be really nice to see the Animal Realm get a little more explanation as to how it fits into the overall grand scheme of Gensokyo's worldbuilding because that would just make such an already interesting idea for a setting in Gensokyo so much better.

I'm hoping to get the drawing for Keiki done before Touhou 17's 5 year anniversary, though I am willing to postpone that and take my time on it and I also have something coming up where I won't have access to my main drawing tablet for a while so it might be a while until I post again, maybe, who knows, consistent posting schedule? Who are they, I've never heard of them. I do fully intend on talking about my thoughts on Touhou 17 though, even if it's a day or two late, it's Touhou 17's birthday month so it still counts! Also because out of all the Touhou game anniversaries, this is the one I care about the most because Touhou 17 was the first Touhou game I played and 1CC'd(???) on normal, and even though it has plenty of flaws (i.e. the many missed opportunities for it's gameplay, how unbalanced the mechanics are and also screen visibility), I'm always going to have a bit of a soft spot for it and I think that the game's strengths make up for some of it's weaknesses in my opinion.

#touhou project #art #fanart #touhou fanart #touhou 17 #yachie kicchou #wily beast and weakest creature

159 notes · View notes

rroseselavyyy · 1 year ago

Text

spider to the fly - myg

pairing: yoongi x female reader

warnings: smut

For a young lady known to society as an entitled bitch, your fate seemed to be in the hands of your parents. By nature, you were always so obedient to the unrealistic expectations of your so-called caring parents that it made up for your bratty attitude that came from being the only heir in your family.

And this exactly explained why Min Yoongi was standing across you, with his trademark cocky grin, leaning on your bedroom's doorway.

“How did you manage to sneak in?” You asked with a playful smile on your face. Indeed, you weren’t that surprised. He could just greeted by your mom, climb the stairs like it was his place. He was your dad’s favourite, after all.

“Do I look like I’ve just broke into without your parents’ permission?” You rolled your eyes with a quiet snort. You would always open your window just for him, knowing that he would pay a visit like a creature of the night, ready to devour you.

A beautiful breeze coming through your window lingered ever so slowly over your bare legs while you gulped loudly. You patted the spot next to you on your bed and call out for him sweetly. “Just come here, I feel needy since you entered the room.”

Taking his place next to you, he shook his head in a motion showing his disbelief with a beautiful smile on his face. Once you felt his minty breath lingering on your face just centimetres away, his face clouded with sincere concern. “Dove, what happened?” He tilted your chin in order to find any traces of emotions lingered in your eyes. Without giving a proper answer, you brought your hand to his neck and played softly with his raven hair. “Why did you rush out of my parents’ house? Did they say anything to hurt you?” You couldn’t find courage in you to confront with his burning gaze. Instead you fixed your gaze on your bed and mumbled a soft “no” immediately after you felt tears started to adorn your cheeks like diamonds covered your delicate neck.

“My family never misses a chance to make me feel like I’m some sort of property, especially when I’m around you, and your family. I know, we are supposed to get married, and I appreciate that it’s you. However, just imagine I hadn’t fall in love with you since we met when we were in kindergarten? I want this to happen just because we are in love. I feel like everything slips out of my hand including my dreams of becoming a professor-” You felt out of breath when you were interrupted by a pair of soft lips. It made your head dizzy with the feeling of your mind slipping out of your head to wander around somewhere far away likely to be your dreamland.

There was no denying that everytime he looked into your eyes with his intense gaze, you felt you were burning in a hellfire. His affect on you was that immense. “Maybe my parents should adopt you. My dad likes you just fine.”

You didn’t realize when he made you lay on your back as he was towering over you with leaning on his one strong elbow to prevent crushing his weight over you. “No, Yoongi. I’m not settled for being your step sister.” You whispered with your closed eyes. Your dizzy mind refused to calculate passing minutes as you were enjoying sensations rushed through your veins. “I’m going to be your bride, don't you know that?”

"I'll take you as wife-" His breath hitched when he seemed to speak more to himself. "Just the thought of it makes me feel like I am the ruler of this whole fucking universe." You giggled as you leaned to peck his lips. With Yoongi around you, it was that easy for you to feel the happiest woman in the world even if you felt like you freaked out just seconds ago. He was notorious for being a grumpy cat for a reason, yet he was different with you. Definitely much more caring.

"Tell me Professor Min, would you let me attend your classes as a guest?" He whispered just above your ear as his fingers doing their magic below your prim and proper knee-length skirt, stroking your thighs possessively. "You know, I can be very beneficial for your academic research. Reproduction is something still so mysterious, we could find new evidences if we sacrifice ourselves to the science world."

"My mother wouldn't let me be one." Indeed, it was true. Following your dreams would never be on the silver plate that served for you. The only thing that they expected from you was to wrap this handsome man of yours around your finger. Little did they know was that he was already willing to die for you. "She prefers me to become a pretty little housewife."

"It would be a shame if I can't see you with cute glasses and tight formal skirts. I'd pass your classes with excellent grades-" He trailed his fingers on your covered pussy as he shamelessly spoke to your ear. "I'd be a good pet for my professor."

"What an encouraging husband we have here." You erotically whispered between your wet kisses along a way between his cheek to his jawline. Forgetting your parents' existence downstairs, he couldn't hold back a moan when his nostrils filled with sweet patchouli and rose essence lingering on your freshly shampooed hair.

Not that he cared, he would fight hell to hold you.

"You know I'd do anything to make you happy, my beautiful dove." You brought your thumb to his lips and softly stroke his bottom lip, he didn't lose any second to capture your thumb with his lips, slowly sucked it while his heated gaze fixed on your eyes.

"Then would you let me ride you?"

Without waiting for his response, you flipped him over and switched your positions in a heartbeat. He rested his arms under his head as he was anticipating your next move. You got rid of your panties hastily. Your soon-to-be husband boyfriend gave you a cheeky smile while you try to satiate the frustration between your legs onto his growing member covered by his expensive pants. "So this is the night I'm going to deflower you."

You wrapped your delicate hand around Yoongi's neck as you try to give him as pleasure as you could feel.

"Shut up. Just feel." As your mouth hung open from the immense pleasure you feel, Yoongi groped your waist just to make sure if he was still alive and this feeling he felt was not something he would put blame on his dirty imagination when it came to you. "You're saving it for your husband, huh? I see." When you tried to slap his chest with a growl he immediately got a grip of them and encaged between his large hands. He started to thrust up into you when you both feel you're not going to last.

Your whimpers exchanged between "yoongi" and "faster" right before you both reached your high.

"Feeling better?" He asked when he tried to catch his breathing. You giggled sweetly as you placed your figure right beside his body. "Yes."

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #min yoongi smut #min yoongi #yoongi #bts x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi fanfiction

282 notes · View notes

hunters-vigil · 4 months ago

Text

The Archon's Baby - Chapter 17 - Questions and Answers

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Warnings: pregnant!reader, talks of sacrifice and death, mass death against the abyss (cataclysm), mentions of war (cataclysm), one mention of derogatory language, impending death, consumption of vitality (lifespan), decay of human form (Capitano), brief mentions of Enkanomiya lore.

Fic under the cut, don't repost my stuff on other platforms, i have ao3. Reader is not the traveller. Reader's adoptive sisters are Chasca and Chuychu.

"Ahh… I am happy to see your plan advance one step further. It seems my cry did not cause irreversible damage." A voice echoed throughout the chamber, much to Ororon's confusion, as he asked about who was talking.

"Just as I thought. The Lord of the Night has awakened." Mavuika's face glazed over with seriousness, observing as a pale starry light emitted from the source mechanism.

The Traveller stared at her with wide eyes, while Paimon asked the questions. The Lord of the Night, ruler of the Night Kingdom. Formerly an angel.

"I preside over a realm of souls. Due to my limited power, sleep is the only way I can prolong my existence." Yohualtecuhtin began to explain, "when you activated the device, I awoke and could not hold back my cry. It is a cry that agitates souls. Mot of you were unaffected because your souls are intact. But, with a damaged soul, the effect on your friend was heightened, and his soul almost shattered as a result. And yet, his soul remains in one piece. He managed to overcome this obstacle through sheer force of will… a truly impressive feat for a human."

Whatever else had happened involved another soul that had been affected. A Khaenri'ahn soul… but the soul was expelled instead of taking over Ororon's body.

Mavuika was left to explain how Natlan's leylines had been damaged in the fight of the descender and the dragon, the Lord of the Night constructing the Night Kingdom to compensate for this, with Xbalanque strengthening it with the rules, the Ode of Ressurection, and the Pilgrimmage.

Yohualtecuhtin offering to rebuild the leylines herself, at the cost of her own existence, was something that Mavuika would not accept, as the seelies danced around everyone. Much to The Captain's fury.

"The people of Natlan will face memory loss, mental disorders and cognitive issues… just like the consequences of using the gnosis, this is a price I refuse to accept." Mavuika left out her fear of possible effects for anyone pregnant too. It wasn't assured to happen, but she would not risk it. Any major distress could endanger their lives.

"Humanity's survival is worth any price. Once the abyss runs rampant, all that remains will be a land of corpses and ruin." The Captain snapped, but Mavuika turned to him, already prepare to argue.

"And when the new ley lines are invaded by the abyss? What then? How are future generations supposed to survive?" Mavuika asked question after question, a fire burning inside of her, how are her children supposed to survive? "A land without the Lord of the Night, without the protection of the rules, is doomed from the start."

"You presume too much. If you cannot ensure survival in the present, you have no right to think about the future. What will it take for you to realise that? How many hundreds or thousands will have to die?!" Capitano growled, turning towards the Traveller as they asked the fated question. Why did he care so much?

"Why? Because I am a survivor of Khaenri'ah! I witnessed the devastation and terror of the abyss with my own eyes. My family, my comrades, my homeland…. were all lost to the abyss. It is an unforgettable pain, one that no amount of time could ever dull… not even five hundred years. You've experienced something similiar, Mavuika. You should know exactly what I mean."

"You're right. The pain, the regret, the catastrophe, they all haunt my dreams to this day." Mavuika's face was stern as the Captain got more and more personal.

"If I could go back, I would reject all false hope. I would do whatever it takes to ensure their survival. You have that chance before that now? Why do you refuse to take it?!"

"Because we don't have the right to make that decision! We love this world because it contains everything we hold dear. Everything that has happened here has moved us, shaped us, and turned us into who we are today. Giving up our memories and history would mean rewriting everything. The people of this world would then fundementally different beings, their physical bodies the only connection to their former selves." Mavuika expressed, her hand over her heart as she spoke.

"Even so-"

"All this arguing isn't good for the baby." Ororon cut in, confusing everyone in the chamber. Xilonen glanced towards the door immediately, but you were where she left you, at Quahuacan Cliff, miles away from here.

"What? I was under the impression from our intel that it was your concubine who was carrying your offspring." The Captain expressed confusion, looking to Mavuika, who immediately glared, not appreciating the eyes on her form, or what the Harbinger just said.

"Do not call her that." The God of War seethed, her anger rising by the second. To refer to you as that, and to reveal the Fatui had intel, they knew of your pregnancy? That you were having the Archon's child? Her babies? How many spies were near the stadium? Did they witness you admit your pregnancy to your parents that day?

"I apologise. I did not know the full circumstance behind your relationship with the girl, but given your anger… I see it is more than what was presumed." Capitano took back his words, watching as Mavuika sighed.

"I'd marry her in a heartbeat if there was enough time and it was safe. Ororon, would you like to speak?"

"Not about my friend… but I once carried the hopes of many people, and I was also desperate to save our nation. In The Captain's plan, I saw a chance to ensure our survival. But as I was on the brink of death, my wish for life and purpose was rekindled. I've been very fortunate to be well-cared for by all the people in my life. I refuse to forget that. My feelings were so strong, they overrode my compulsion to sacrifice myself for their safety. No matter what path lies before us, we still have a destination. If we lose our way now, we will lose the meaning of our existence." Ororon nervously looked between Mavuika, who reminded him of a raging bonfire, and the Captain, who seemed to be deep in thought at Mavuika's confession.

"That's right. Natlan's heroes gave their lives so we could have this chance against the abyss. Their sacrifices are our blessings. Not only are their deeds and spirits exceptionally meaningful, they may also be our path to victory. I don't want to give up just yet." Xilonen added, her eyes burning with passion as Paimon pointed out there was just one hero left to awaken.

Yohualtecuhtin would be awake for some time, allowing people to ask her questions, but also giving Mavuika the option to sacrifice the Lord of the Night for the ley lines rebuilding.

"You must have a profound connection to this land, since you're so determined to save it. But what are you really trying to save? The land? Or its people?" Mavuika glared at the Harbinger, who only hmped at her question, turning to look at the Traveller instead.

The Traveller's answer of wanting to win led to The Captain yielding on his plan. He granted Mavuika to have the Fatui at her command during the war, despite them not seeing completely eye to eye.

"Mavuika… if you have a moment." Yohualtecuhtin called out before everyone minus the Traveller and Paimon could leave the chamber. It was only when everyone had cleared out that the two began to talk.

"Is this about the plan, or what the Captain said?" Mavuika waited carefully for what the Lord of the Night had to say.

"Your twins are not born yet, but they shine like gold. The abyss will prey upon her, but I assume that you are aware of this."

"I will not let anyone or anything harm her, or our children. Even after my plan comes to its fruition." Mavuika confirmed, ignoring the tug in her heart at Yohualtecuhtin knowing about the twins… of course the Night Kingdom knew, but that meant the Abyss knew too.

Yohualtecuhtin sighed in a way that sent an uncomfortable feeling through Mavuika. A pity sigh.

"What of the political uprest that could come after your death and their birth? Will the people respect the rules, or expect your newborns to take the divine throne as their birthright?" Yohualtecuhtin asked, but there was no anger to her words, no frustration or appal that the archon was having a child. It felt more like intrigue, worry… concern like a parent would have for a child.

If the Traveller were there, they would be reminded of Enkanomiya's' puppet rulers, the Sunchildren, before Orobashi assumed control of the land.

"Our babies are as human as I am. All Pyro Archons are humans who ascend after proving themselves to be worthy. If my children grow to become warriors for Natlan, it is because they want to, not because the people feel an obligation to my memory. I am one of many Pyro Archons, there have been many before me, and there will be many after. Our children will become whatever they wish, I have faith in my beloved that they will flourish, and so will she. My regret is that I will not be there to see it." Mavuika confessed, her hand resting as a fist on her chest as she spoke.

This entire conversation was uncomfortable, luckily, it ended not long after that, allowing Mavuika to return to the stadium, while the Traveller and Paimon asked Yohualtecuhtin some questions about Natlan, and Teyvat, the abyss, and the Loom of Fate.

///

With the Fatui now fighting with Natlan against the abyss, Mavuika was able to question The Captain about the source mechanism, and more, with Paimon asking about how he knew about the gnosis. The cataclysm…

"You knew Ayizu, and you fought for Natlan all those years ago. Why don't I recognise you?" Mavuika frowned, letting out a sigh, "it must be the mask."

"Even without the mask, my past appearance is long gone. Even with the curse of immortality, the flesh still rots." The Captain sighed too, but Paimon and the Traveller could only exchange looks, and bring up Dainsleif, who the Captain recognised as carried a degree of pain and hatred that far surpassed his. The Captain then admitted he also would prefer not to harm the Traveller, due to their sibling being Khaenria'hn royality.

The abyss would most likely sense the change in Ororon, and heighten the attacks on Natlan as a result.

Meanwhile, that night, Xilonen and Citlali went to the Lord of the Night for the Traveller's ancient name… finding out that forging an ancient name for an outlander could consume some vitality of the forger, and that Citlali saw Mavuika's impending death in a vision. The price of saving Natlan, one that Mavuika long since accepted.

Mavuika let out a sigh as she returned to her chambers. Her bedsheets were empty and cold without you there, and she didn't get a chance to ask the Captain the one question she wanted to ask. If he knew which Fatui division had hunted your biological parents to death, and why?

Staring at the ceiling, the Pyro Archon shivered, wishing she could hold you instead of the pillow that held your fading scent. At the first sign of trouble, she'd send a division of her warriors and Fatui to retrieve you, and bring you to her side… losing you. That would be the last straw.

///

Chuychu stared at the object in her hand, still wondering why it had appeared under her pillow, and when. It was to be hers, she could feel it. The elemental power… but what had she done to earn it? Chasca got her anemo vision while fighting in the Night Warden Wars. She came back with it, never saying a word on what had happened for it to appear before her.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #mavuika x reader #requested fic #chasca x sister!reader #chuychu x sister!reader #turned into a series

60 notes · View notes