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cursedfallingmoon · 2 months ago

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Touch the Sky || Yan GB Merida x GN Reader

Characters: Murray

Summary: A wild prince who fights for his own hand... and maybe yours too

Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness

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Yan GB Merida who is the firstborn son of the leading clan. He's also the prince. His mother woks so hard to make sure he's a perfect leader for the clan's future. So many rules that he hates. He wants to have freedom to do what he loves most. Archery. Ever since he was a child, archery was always something he adored. His father encouraged it. His mother disliked it. He didn't care, however. He became so good at it as he aged.

Yan GB Merida who had first met you when he was a child. It was his birthday and his father had gifted him his very first bow. They were practicing as his mother watched anxiously. She didn't want her son to be hurt. He shot the arrow too far into the woods. He left his mother and father to go and find it. As he searched, small blue spirits made themselves present. Will o' Wisps. His curiosity took a hold of him and he followed them. The wisps had led him to not only the arrow but you. You were dressed in tattered clothing with a dagger wrapped around your neck. You were a child of the forest.

Yan GB Merida who makes silent eye contact with you. The silence in the forest other than the leave rustling in the wind. He wanted to break the beautiful silence with a simple greeting. His mother had beat him to it when she called for his name. Just the sound had startled you. Much to his disappointment, he had returned to the camp. While his mother had carried him, a huge black bear had attacked. Mor'du. His father defended the both of them while his mother rode off with him in her arms.

Yan GB Merida who, years after that, manages to find you once more. On days where he doesn't have any royal duties or expectations to fulfill he rides his horse, Angus, and practices his archery skills through the forest. When he's deep enough in the forest he finds you. The both of you have been good friends, and he always loves spending time with you.

Yan GB Merida who comes home one day after a wonderful outing with you. He's saddened by the fact that he has to leave you, but he knows that you love the forest. It's where you thrive. When he walks into the large dining room, he gets lectured by his mother, and sneaks his triplet brothers some pastries he took from the kitchen. While he sits down, sharing about his day, his mother is handed three letters. He's told that they're letters from the three other clans. They've accepted to participate in Murray's betrothal. He's angered by the idea and storms out. Retreating to his room, he grabs a sword and start hitting his bedpost with it. His mother is quick to follow him, and she's as calm as ever when she enters the room. In this calm state, she shared a tale of an ancient kingdom. Something he didn't care to pay attention too. His mind drifted off to thoughts of you.

Yan GB Merida who meets the clans soon after. He's dressed n a stupid tight tunic and an even tighter and nicer looking braise. He couldn't breath. He could barely move. He sat in front of the clans as the three leaders introduced their first born sons to him. When his mother said he could chose the game in which would choose his future husband, a plan popped into his head. This was his way out. He chose archery.

Yan GB Merida who represents his clan after the three contestants had taken their turns. He hid his bow and arrows next to his wooden carved seat. As he announced he was going to shoot for his own hand, his mother was outraged. Once he hit a bulseye on each target, his mother had confronted him.

Yan GB Merida who was pulled aside privately by his mother. He was pulled into the room where she had been working on the tapestry. She was enraged by what he had done. In the midst of their argument and in the heat of it, his mother ripped the bow from his back. Without even a beat, the bow is thrown into the fire. In return to this rage, Murray picked up a sword and ripped the tapestry where him and his mother were holding hands. He runs once more to the comfort of his horse and furthermore out to the comfort of the forest.

Yan GB Merida who gets throne off hid hotdr ehrn approaching a circle of large stones. He's in tears and his clothes are torn. So much is going through his head. He wanted comfort. He needed it. He looked around with teary eyes. A branch breaks and is greeted with the soothing presence of you. You tower above him and hold a hand out to him. He takes it to help himself up, but is quickly destracted by a whisp.

Yan GB Merida who feels his heart ump into his throat as you try to help him. He's, unfortantley, too distracted by the whisps to properly thank you. He starts to follow the blue spirit, dragging you along with him. The whipss lead him to a cottage hidden within a small stone cave. There, you two meet a witch his is desguised as a wood carver. He managed to haggle with the witch to ger a spell. A spell that will change his mother's mind about the unwanted arranged marriage. He also gave you one of the bear wood carvings as a gift for your comfort.

Yan GB Merida who goes back to the castle with the cake in a wooden box made by the woodcarving witch. He managed to get a ride back home because of you. You calmed downed his horse. He also managed to convince you to ride with him. Before he rode through the castle gates, you had gotten off to return to the forest. Disappointed, he went on without you.

Yan GB Merida who gifts his mother the spell the witch had given him disguised as a cake He became eager for her to changer mind about the betrothal. While he tries asking, she becomes sick. He tried to help her up to bed, but gets stopped by the clan heads. After an embarassing moment, the Queen gets to her room. Much to Murray's startlement, his mother turns into his bear. As he tries to explain why she's now a bear, he admits to the spell.

Yan GB Merida who is relieved that his mother turned bear is now out of the castle. They find their way through the forest to where the witch's cave was. On their way, Murray spots you first. He's amazed as you hunt a deer all on your own. His mother becomes spooked when she sees this stranger with a dagger. Her response is smothering Murray into a protective hug. He manages to break free and catches your attention. He explains to you the situation and you offer your help.

Yan GB Merida who becomes frustrated to find out that the witch is gone for a festival. You three end up laying under the remains of the door after Murray causes an explosion that blows it off it's hinges. What's worse is that it starts raining. After a restless night, you watch how his mom bonds with him even if she's a bear. You help his mother catch fish.

Yan GB Merida who stumbles upon the ruins of what seemed to be an old-abandoned castle. His mother remains on the top, watching you both anxiously through the hole. As you explore, he realizes where he recognizes this castle. The story his mother had told him before. Danger had been unknowingly lurking in the shadows. When he turns around, he's caught off guard by the giant bear. Mor'du. His mind immediately goes to you. He does his best to protect you. He helps you out as quick as possible, and you pull him up. His mother grabs both of you and runs off back home.

Yan GB Merida who walks through the door and sees the clans fighting. The room is a mess with broken furniture and tables being used as shields. He is bombarded with questions, which he tries to answer them, but he glances and see you and his mother trying to sneak by. Murray starts a speech in an attempt to calm down the clan heads. Too which he answers their questions. When a guard sees movement, he walks over, and in the quick response from his mother was to pretend to be a bear statue while hiding you behind her. From there, she watches her son. Impressed by his words, his mother guides him through the speech. You watched with amazement from behind her. When the clans head to the dining hall to celebrate, the three of you are quick to retreat upstairs where the torn tapestry lays.

Yan GB Merida who becomes increasingly panicked when his mother starts acting like a real bear again. What's worse is when his father comes into the room. His mind races when he catches you standing in front of his father and his bear mother to protect her. He would be enraptured that you want to protect his mom but his care for you out weighs that. He was quick to pull you away as he told his mother to run. His father chased after the bear, but not until he locked the both of you in the room. Once the two of you are alone, Murray winces due to the gash on his upper arm from his mother.

Yan GB Merida whose brothers had turned into bears because of the left over cursed cake. Noticing them, Murray called out to them for help. They provided, more so to cause chaos, but they love their older brother too. As they tried to get the key from the poor nursemaid, he worked on mending the tapestry he had ripped during his anger. To you, it was clear that there was so much regret and guilt in his eyes. You place a gentle hand on his back, your presence is enough to encourage him. After a couple of moments of chasing the nursemaid around the castle, the three little terrors managed to get the key.

Yan GB Merida who breaks out of the room with the tapestry he's trying to fix in his hands. The needle and thread are in his mouth. You follow him with the end of the tapestry in your hands, carrying it so you both can go quick. His bear brothers don't trail fare behind. You're all quick to hop onto Murray's horse, and he leaves one of his brother's to steer the horse. You sit behind him. You hold the tapestry so it's steady and doesn't fall as the wind blows. All of you try to remain calm under the scary hand of panic.

Yan GB Merida who faces off with the legendary monstrous bear; Mor'du! He tries his best to protect you. He doesn't want you to get hurt. He tries to focus on the huge bear but his mind floods with concern about you and his mother. You try your best to help by distracting the large bear. His mother ends up facing off with Mor'du. She pulls you away with her large bear hands to where Murray was. He wraps his arms around you, making sure to steady you. The clans try their best to fight. They don't want to hurt the queen turned bear.

Yan GB Merida who watched his mother turned bear with anxious eyes. They were both in the middle of the stone structure circle. The clans that surrounded them all waited with bated breath. Murray had you close to him. You were a huge part of this. This journey. As the sun rose further up into the sky, covering the bear wrapped in the fabric tapestry, the bear had changed. She changed back into a human. He was so happy that he hugged the queen. His father had joined the hug as the three boys had run up. You were pulled into this group hug by Murray.

Yan GB Merida who after a night of recovery, and having you over at his castle for the first time ever. The next morning, him and his family had gone to the docks to send off the three clans. He had brought you with him. His family were more than happy that he had a friend. Much to his disappointment, however, one of the clans' sons had kissed his arm repeatedly. He had wished it was you.

Yan GB Merida who catches you trying to leave as the clans start to sail off. He doesn't want you to leave just yet. If you leave, who knows when he'll see you again. He needs you in his life. His mom catches him chasing after you. He tries his best to convince you to stay. With him. She walks up to the two of you which gives him the chance to finally formally introduce you to his mom.

Yan GB Merida who offers you a horse ride once he managed to convince you to stay with him. He helps you onto the back of his horse while his mother joins. The three of you watch the ships leave and once they're out of sight, the three of you ride off into the forest. He's so happy to finally be with you without having to do anything after.

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Property of @cursedfallingmoon! Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

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heylittleriotact · 20 days ago

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💐WIP WEDNESD-ENEVER 💐

@emmg asked for a WIP so here's a chunky one. It's also spicy. Under the cut for length.

I wanted to elaborate on what I imagined Emmrich and Rook banging in a coffin was like. So....

Pairing: Emmrich x Female Rook

Rating: Explicit

Casket Spray:

A large, ornate floral arrangement that sits on top of the casket. It is usually the centrepiece of the funeral flower display.

“What I said the night we had that argument…” she trailed off, not sure what else to say. Was it stupid? Obviously. She knew that even before she got unceremoniously thrown into Solas’ prison in the Dread Wolf’s place. Was it upsetting? Very - for both of them. Reiterating that now would be pointless. “It feels like it was just yesterday for me, but it was over a fortnight for you.” She squeezed Emmrich’s hand tighter and sidled even closer to him on the stair that they were occupying in a quiet corner of the Necropolis.

It wasn’t that she was afraid that at any moment she might be dragged away from him again - this time for good, except, well… that was actually exactly what she was afraid of.

“Thank you for not giving up on me.”

That was the sentiment she ended up settling on. Thin and somewhat trite, even to her own ears - she had little doubt that he could see through it too. She might as well have told him it wasn’t his fault.

She just hoped he understood that she wasn’t solely referring to rescuing her from the Fade.

And… there it was - that smile: effortless and comforting by virtue of its existence alone.

His cheeks were once again clean-shaven (Amina’s gentle suggestion that maybe he should give the beard a chance was politely rebuffed), and his hair was washed and neatly coiffed as usual. One would never guess by looking at him now that only a few hours earlier he looked like a man on the very brink of insanity.

Over her.

Over a few poorly chosen words uttered out of fear and pain. Over being plunged into the sudden reality that those might have been the last words exchanged between them.

Something deep within her stirred at the knowledge that he had been so undone by what had happened at Tearstone Island. If she’d had any doubts that his affections towards her were genuine, they were long gone. There were no lengths that he wouldn’t have gone to in order to retrieve her from that prison, and as flattering as that fact was, she was grateful that Emmrich had not ultimately been called to challenge his definition of what was ‘right’ in this scenario…

People probably wouldn’t have understood…

People probably wouldn’t have liked it.

And he was nothing if not palatable, right? What with his deliberate togetherness that he presented to the world: a reassurance in and of itself.

Take that away though…

Watchers were indeed oath-sworn caregivers of the living and the dead, but their approachable, kind nature was of a deliberate sort designed specifically to foster trust. Beneath that compassionate altruism, they were fundamentally guardians and protectors… and they were capable of staggering violence. One only had to consider the damage Johanna nearly caused to understand that a Watcher willing to operate outside the boundaries of their oath was dangerous.

Her beloved Emmrich was no different in that respect, though she was probably one of the few who knew it.

And still he had made a point earlier of talking her down from naming Solas as a ruined spirit and vowing to destroy him for his betrayal and cruel manipulation…

She wasn’t sure if this section of the Necropolis was particularly drafty this evening, but she felt the small hairs on her arms raise slightly and forced her mind away from such thoughts.

Instead, she thought about how much she loved him. The way his eyes glittered cleverly in the light of the veilfire, and the soft shape of his lips. He was looking at her like she was the center of the universe, and she knew that she didn’t want to go anywhere without him for the rest of her days: she wanted to see his face in the morning when she opened her eyes, and when each day was done, she wanted the last thing she tasted to be those soft, slightly pouting lips.

She’d see to it that he never felt alone or unwanted again: she would want him always.

She wanted to come back here to the Necropolis when all was said and done and make a home with him and Manfred. The three of them would be so happy together.

And… oh.

Her breath caught as a new thought stole into her mind.

In time - if they desired it - she could cease imbibing the weekly tonic she’d taken for so many years to ensure her monthly cycle. His seed would quicken within her and they would create a child borne of their loving union - blood magic in its purest and most literal form: a legacy crafted of their own flesh. And Manfred would make such a fine big brother with a little sibling to dote on…

Her stomach flip-flopped as arousal curled up through the very marrow of her bones and set a fire deep within her belly. Of course when she was young she’d thought she’d like to be a mother one day, but she’d given up on genuinely putting any thought to such an aspiration years earlier: she never thought she’d find someone who’d truly want her.

Now Elgar’nan and Solas were the only ones in the way of such a future. It was so close she could practically taste it…

She swallowed roughly, feeling her heart hammering away in her breast as the future unveiled itself in Emmrich’s eyes and she burned for him with an imminent need to be united with him utterly.

They might die tomorrow, after all…

“Amina? Are you alright, darling? You look as though you’re a million miles away.” He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and she nuzzled into his hand.

“I’m sorry, love.” She dragged herself back to reality with a smile. “I’m listening.”

“I was just saying how relieved I am that you’re safe.”

And he was. He really, really was. Amina suspected he had been counting each of her breaths since she tumbled out of the Fade; kept an eye on the steady thrum of her carotid artery when he could glimpse it just for the visual reminder that she had a pulse and was in fact alive and not just a figment of his grief addled imagination the way Varric had been for her.

“I did have someone to come back to.” She took his hand and stood.

She gently pulled Emmrich to his feet too and rocked up onto her toes, rising through her knees – up into her hips… lengthening her spine until she could press her lips to his, kissing him and putting all of her devotion and love and fear and sorrow into it along with all of her hunger and yearning.

When she drew back, the sight of that hunger reflected back at her drove a small gasp from her - it wasn’t an exclamation of surprise, but rather the sound one might make when they find themselves suddenly breathless upon viewing a deeply moving piece of art.

He had apartments in the upper levels of the Necropolis - as did she - but when one considered their surroundings – this quiet, esoteric corner of the wing and the privacy that had clearly been paid for; the fact that this was an owned but unoccupied plot… and the individual it belonged to was suddenly kissing her again – his intent was clear.

Her fingers twisted into his soft hair and a sumptuous moan rumbled through from him at her touch. Her jaw slackened and his tongue swept past her lips with a desperation that would have shocked her if she hadn’t been privy to the knowledge that he thought she might be dead for the past two weeks.

Then he was walking her back, back, back, and she offered no resistance, feeling herself bump up against the raised stone sarcophagus in the center of the room. She didn’t need to remove her lips from Emmrich’s to spare a look, nor did she need to remove her hands from his to spare a touch: she knew that the stone wasn’t humble lime - none of the monuments in this section were: they were all at least marble or high-grade granite. She’d stared at the classic, hexagonal shape of the sarcophagus while he was telling her about Hope and Devotion, and as he talked her down from her determination to destroy Solas for his betrayal. She’d stared at it for long enough this evening to mark it as a monument hewn of coveted blue granite from the Anderfels. It had to have cost a fortune – interesting for a man so terrified of his eventual death to sink so much gold into it, she had thought at one point.

She captured his lower lip between her teeth as she leaned against that monument and posed a wordless question as she bit down gently: Are we really doing this, love?

He whined in response as she worried at his lip, soothing the sting of her bite, his slender long-fingered hand slipping around her waist and splaying across her lower back to bring himself close and erase any space between them.

The familiar and welcome sensation of his hardening length pressed against her in spellbound and equally silent answer: If it pleases you, dearest.

Every day it seemed he found a new way to surprise her. She shivered at the thought of how many other surprises might await them…

It wasn’t that they both knew that this section - regardless of how serene it was - was ultimately open to the public and anybody could happen by them at any time, though that had its own ribald appeal…

No, it was for the very fact that Emmrich I-Choose-My-Words-Carefully Volkarin did nothing accidentally and left no room for coincidence when his actions were called into question. He was just as aware as Amina that a comfortable feather bed in a warm apartment complete with a crackling fire, expensive Orlesian massage oils, and a selection of the finest wines were all things they could have within minutes should they desire them - all they needed to do was take the lift a hundred-odd levels up, and that was that.

But he wanted this.

After all, what could possibly be more sacred than making love in your eternal resting place on the eve of the end of the world?

So she shimmied up and seated herself on the edge of the sarcophagus, her legs parting so he could slot himself between them. She could feel the slickness between her thighs clinging to her underthings as she ran her hands over him, dragging his coat down his long arms.

“I love you, Emmrich.”

The words were still so new to her tongue and her ears, but it felt like her heart had been beating to the rhythm of them for her entire life.

“And I love you, my darling, precious Amina.” He shrugged out of the coat and draped it over the side of the cold stone.

“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing you say that,” she grinned against his skin, kissing up his neck - tasting the slight saltiness of him and the tang of his cologne. She nibbled at his earlobe and he tensed against her, another pained little gasp slipping past his lips.

Unable to bear it anymore, she gathered him to her, wrapping her legs around his waist in a fluid movement that sent them both tumbling backwards into the soft velvet lining of the sarcophagus - it was surprisingly soft: quilted and down-filled. There was even a pillow at the head end - a proper one with a silk slip trimmed with scalloped lace, also probably down-filled… not one of those dreadful thin ones filled with wood shavings that offered little to no support for the reposed decedent when it came to the purpose of viewing them.

Indeed Emmrich appeared to have spared no expense when it came to the question of quality and craftsmanship of his final resting place - or was it more accurately theirs now? Destined to be put to use sooner rather than later depending on the outcome of tomorrow?

Most married couples shared the space of an owned crypt but each had their own sarcophagus or niche based on what they could afford. But as Amina’s lungs filled with oxygen, and her rib cage expanded, and she and Emmrich suffused into the cramped space, filling it completely with their bodies and limbs, she decided that the existence of things like space and stone between them for eternity simply wouldn’t do.

No, whichever one of them went first would rest in gentle repose in this exact spot, patiently waiting until the day when the heavy gilded lid was slid aside and a second set of remains were introduced, lovingly deposited and tucked in alongside the other: a cold, rigored hand posed with experienced fingers would lovingly cradle a dry, waxy chin; a leg would be positioned delicately over a fragile lower torso, bony fingers artfully arranged to look almost like it lovingly stroked the recently embalmed flesh of a thigh that would maintain its weight and mass for a few years at least.

Their heads would be gently maneuvered - a chin tucked down here, a jaw tipped up there - to create an enduring tableau of the memory of this exact moment and the reverent, passionate kisses she was tracing along his mandibular foramen: an eternal embrace in which the passing of time was inconsequential when compared to the irrefutable and immortal permanence of their affection.

A yearning sound escaped her, urged on by the adoring vulgarities and soft praises Emmrich was whispering into her ear as they writhed against each other in the too-small space, his fingertips digging into the curve her ass, guiding her movements to help her rut needily against his thigh, each roll of her hips sending a wave of blissful sensation through her aching core.

She managed to free a hand and wriggle it down between them so she could palm his straining cock through his pants, feeling a hot wet spot against the fleshy base of her thumb where it passed over him - exhilarating evidence of his mounting anticipation.

“Your cock is perfect,” she whispered. “Beautiful… made for me...”

Emmrich’s response was a ragged groan and her hips pushed the flat of her palm against him through the fabric of his trousers as she bent her other wrist somewhat awkwardly to start coaxing his collar pin free.

Undressing in the limited space was easier said than done, but something about the obligation of their proximity caused the pooling heat in her belly to intensify with every huff of breath that skittered over her face and neck as they both twisted and groped in the tomb-light, tempering genuine attempts to gain purchase on things like buttons and clasps and ties with exploratory, wandering touches that lingered, caressed, and teased. Lips and tongues dragged over freshly revealed swaths of skin, trailing oaths and tender promises in their wake: sacred incantations that invoked the ancient magic that was responsible for the existence of this place to begin with.

Amina managed to dislodge herself from between Emmrich and the wall of the sarcophagus, and used her newly found mobility to straddle his lap: her legs might fall asleep if she stayed like this for long, but the angle it provided her allowed her to deftly finish unfastening his waistcoat and shirt.

“This shirt has about two dozen too many buttons,” she complained breathlessly as he finished with the last of the many moonstone fastenings, and Emmrich sat up to slip free of the clothing in question.

“I can’t help but notice that their presence didn’t slow you down terribly, dearest.” He regarded her with a lascivious smile as the sleeves of the shirt slid down over his numerous bracelets: it was a filthy expression that only she was privileged to bear witness to - one of lidded eyes and swollen lips quirked in a decidedly smug countenance… the perfectly combed moustache in disarray. Almost a sneer… so vastly different than the compassionate, kind face he presented to the world. It called to something absolutely feral within her – it drove her wild when he looked at her like that, and with his torso now bare and his hair slightly mussed just the way she liked it…

She managed to exercise enough patience to allow him to strip away her own shirt before returning to her self-assumed duty to taste every inch of him that she could reach. Her hips pressed against his from her place atop him, and she closed her mouth over a nipple, lingering in place for a moment to suck gently and flick the delicate gold hoop there with the tip of her tongue. She caught it with her teeth too and ever so gently tugged on it, earning a stammered exclamation from Emmrich before she began trailing kisses downward over the warm flesh of his abdomen, seeking his ribs with her lips, counting each one in her mind as she descended: five, six, seven… onto the false ones – a silly name really – eight, nine, and ten…

Her fingers curled into the layers of expensive red silk at his waist and she looked up at him then with lust-darkened eyes.

“Lay back,” she ordered, her voice a sensual husk that was not remotely lacking the authoritative cadence of a Reaper who was accustomed to being obeyed when she issued instructions to anyone this far down in the crypts.

So lay back he did, and Amina made short work of any fabrics and fasteners, freeing him into her waiting hand.

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