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nellasbookplanet · 4 months

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Book recs: Queer science fiction, part 1

There is a lot of queer sf out there, and I read a lot of sf. When I started working on this list, I quickly realized it was impossible to include all that I've read and enjoyed in one single rec post. Thus, this is the first of so far three queer sci-fi book rec posts.

A note: queer here does not necessarily mean "guarantee of an f/f or m/m ship with a happy ending", but rather simply a significant presence of queerness. Some of the books feature no romance but has a same gender attracted/trans/a-spectrum lead, or features an m/f relationship with bisexual, trans or aro/ace characters, or simply features a world-building which is heavily queer inclusive in ways that don't always compare to our own ideas of sexuality and gender. I have however disqualified works where the only queer presence is along the lines of "gay best friend" or a blink and you'll miss it confirmation that never comes up again.

Previous book rec posts:

Really cool fantasy worldbuilding, really cool sci-fi worldbuilding, dark sapphic romances, mermaid books, vampire books, many worlds: portal fantasies, many worlds: alternate timelines, robots and artificial intelligences, post- and transhumanism, alien intelligences

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

The Light Brigade by Kameron Hurley*

Dietz is a soldier in the war between Earth and Mars - to travel to the battle front, she and her fellow soldiers are broken down into light to be able to quickly travel across space. But something keeps going wrong with Dietz's travels; her memories don't match up with the mission briefs, as she experiences time itself turning in on itself. Is she going mad? Or are the things she's learning skipping through time the truth - and the war that's stealing her life the lie? A mindfuck of a book that's scathing in its critique of fascism and war. Features a sapphic lead but no romance.

A Psalm for the Wild-Built (Monk and Robot duology) by Becky Chambers

Novella. Long ago, robots, upon gaining sentience, simply laid down their work and walked into the wilderness. Long after, a tea monk looking for purpose follows after them into the wilds, where they come across one of the robots seeking its own sort of answers. While not plotless, this story focuses more on character and vibes over plot. Also has a nonbinary main character and features conversations on gender between human and robot.

Meet Me In Another Life by Catriona Silvey*

Thora and Santi are strangers, brought together by a coincidence and torn apart just as abruptly when tragedy strikes. But this is neither the first nor the last time they meet - again and again they encounter each other, as friends, lovers, enemies, family, every time recognizing in each other a familiarity no one else carries. But with every new life, a mysterious danger grows ever closer, forcing them to find out the truth of their connection. This is a puzzle-box of a story that goes some entirely unexpected places in a very wild ride, featuring a bisexual co-lead.

The Archive Undying (The Downworld Sequence) by Emma Mieko Candon

In a world where AI gods sometimes lose their minds and take entire populations down with them, Sunai was the only survivor when his god went down. In the 17 years since, he has wandered on his own, unable to either die or age, drowning his sorrows in drink and men. But his attempts to flee his past comes to a stop as he is forced back into the struggle between man and machine. Featuring some pretty wild world building and narrative techniques, this book will definitely confuse you, but it is worth the experience.

The Paradox Hotel by Rob Hart

January Cole works security at the Paradox Hotel, last stop for tourists heading for the timeport, which allows them to travel to and witness any moment in time. But years of proximity to the timeport has left its damage on January, making her unstuck in time, letting her relive memories of her dead lover even as her sanity slips away bit by bit. As she starts witnessing proof of a horrible crime in the hotel that no one else can see, January must race against her own mind, a killer, and time itself to solve it before it's too late.

A Fractured Infinity by Nathan Tavares

Hayes Figueiredo is a struggling film-maker who wants to finish his documentary, whose life gets turned upside down when handsome physicist Yusuf Hassan enters his life, claiming an alternate version of him is a great inventor who’s sent a mysterious device to their universe. As Hayes gets drawn deeper into the conspiracy - and his feelings for Yusuf intensify - he has to decide just how far he’s prepared to go to win the life and the love he wants. Featuring a very gay and very morally dubious lead, this is a creative and strange read.

Bridge by Lauren Beukes

When she was little, Bridge and her mother Jo used to play a game - one where they traveled to other worlds, inhabiting the bodies of their other selves. Now Jo is dead, and as Bridge is cleaning out her apartment she finds a strange device: a dreamworm, the very thing that supposedly makes inter-dimensional travel possible. Suddenly faced with the possibility that multiverse travel is real, Bridge is struck by a different question: could her mother still be alive? Scifi spiced with a healthy dose of body horror and some absolutely wild twists, Bridge also features a bisexual lead (however this is a blink and you’ll miss it moment) and a nonbinary co-narrator.

The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet (Wayfarers series) by Becky Chambers

Rosemary Harper just got a job on the motley crew of the Wayfarer, a spaceship that works with tunneling new wormholes through space. With a past she wants to leave behind, Rosemary is happy to travel the far reaches of the universe with the chaotic crew, but when they land the job of a life time, things suddenly get a lot more dangerous. A bit of a tumblr classic in its day, this is a cozy space opera with an episodic feel and vividly realized characters and cultures. While pretty light on romance and focusing found family, there is a main f/f relationship.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon

Life on the lower decks of the generation ship HSS Matilda is hard for Aster, an outcast even among outcasts, trying to survive in a system not dissimilar to the old antebellum South. The ship's leaders have imposed harsh restrictions on their darker skinned people, using them as an oppressed work force as they travel toward their supposed Promised Land. But as Aster finds a link between the death of the ship's sovereign and the suicide of her own mother, she realizes there may be a way off the ship.

Ninefox Gambit (The Machineries of Empire trilogy) by Yoon Ha Lee*

Military space opera where belief and culture shape the laws of reality, causing all kinds of atrocities as empires do everything in their power to force as many people as possible to conform to their way of life to strengthen their technology and weapons. It’s also very queer, with gay, lesbian and trans major characters, albeit little to no romance.

The Left Hand of Darkness (Hainish Cycle) by Ursula K. Le Guin

1969 classic. Genly Ai is an emissary sent to the planet of Winter, meant to help facilitate Winter's inclusion in a growing intergalactic civilization. But he's unprepared for Winter's citizens, who spend much of their time genderless or switching between genders, making for a culture wildly different from that Genly is used to.

Too Like the Lightning (Terra Ignota series) by Ada Palmer*

Centuries in the future, humanity has deliberatly engineered society to be as utopian as possible, politically, socially, sexually, religiously. Written in an enlightenment style and featuring questions of human nature and whether it’s possible to change it, and what price we’re prepared to pay for peace, this book is simultaneously very heavy and very funny, and written in a very unique style. While still human, the society presented often feels starkly alien.

The Stars Are Legion by Kameron Hurley

This book fucked me up when I read it. It’s weird, it’s gross, there’s So Much Viscera, there are literally no men, it has living spaceships and biotech but in the most horrific way imaginable. Had I to categorize it I would call it grimdark military sf. It’s an experience but not necessarily a pleasant one.

The Luminous Dead by Caitlin Starling*

Possibly one of the most unsettling books I’ve ever read, and definitely the most claustrophobic. Gyre, a caver on an alien planet, ventures into the dark and dangerous underground, guided only by a woman who has no compunctions on using and manipulating Gyre as she sees fit to obtain her secretive goals down in the caves.

Escaping Exodus (Escaping Exodus series) by Nicky Drayden

While my feelings on Escaping Exodus were mixed, it cannot be denied that the dynamic between the two leads and the way they go from childhood best friends to enemies on different sides of a class and power struggle is very delicious. It also features some really cool worldbuilding of living, alien generation spaceships and the human culture that has developed inside them.

The Doors of Eden by Adrian Tchaikovsky*

The Doors of Eden is something of an experiment in speculative biology, featuring versions of Earth in which various different species were the one to rise to sentience, from dinosaurs to neanderthals. Now, something is threatening the existence of all timelines, dragging multiple different people and species into the struggle, among those a pair of cryptid hunting girlfriends and a transgender scientist.

Ascension by Jacqueline Koyanagi

Ascension follows Alana Quick, an expert Sky Surgeon who stows away on a spaceship in hopes of landing herself a job. But the ship and its crew are in deeper waters than she expected, facing threats emerging from a whole other universe, all of them searching for the same person: Alana’s spiritually enlightened sister. Undeniably a bit of an odd read, Ascension is also very creative and features polyamorous lesbian relationship.

Contagion (Contagion duology) by Erin Bowman*

Young adult. After receiving an SOS, a small crew is sent on a standard search-and-rescue mission. But what they find are not survivors awaiting help, but an abandoned site, full of dead bodies and crawling with something... monstrous. No romance, but features one sapphic co-lead and one who can easily be read as demisexual (however this doesn't show up until book two, which has more romance).

A Memory Called Empire (Texicalaan duology) by Arkady Martine

Mahit Dzmare is an ambassador sent to the center of the multi-system Teixcalaanli Empire, where she discovers that her predecessor has died. Trying to protect her home, an independent mining station, from being taken over by the empire, Mahit struggles to find out the truth of her predecessor's death while carrying the voice of his ghost in her head, guiding her as best he can. Light on the romance but does feature a sapphic relationship.

The Outside (The Outside trilogy) by Ada Hoffman*

AKA the book the put me in an existenial crisis. Souls are real, and they are used to feed AI gods in this lovecraftian inspired scifi where reality is warped and artifical gods stand against real, unfathomable ones. Autistic scientist Yasira is accused of heresy and, to save her eternal soul, is recruited by post-human cybernetic ‘angels’ to help hunt down her own former mentor, who is threatening to tear reality itself apart. Sapphic main character.

Dawn (Xenogenesis trilogy) by Octavia E. Butler*

After a devestating war leaves humanity on the brink of extinction, survivor Lilith finds herself waking up naked and alone in a strange room. She’s been rescued by the Oankali, who have arrived just in time to save the human race. But there’s a price to survival, and it might be humanity itself. Absolutely fucked up I love it I once had to drop the book mid read to stare at the ceiling and exclaim in horror at what was going on. Queer in the sense that the Oankali doesn't follow human ideas of gender and relationships, which is mirrored in their romantic relationships with humans. It is, however, pretty dark, with examinations of agency and consent, so enter with caution.

Remnant by Kate Genet

One day, Cass wakes up and finds everyone else is gone. Not dead, just gone, leaving her in a world which nature starts taking back with a dangerous, unnatural speed. But as she tries to survive this new normal, Cass realizes she may not be alone after all - but who else is out there, and are they a threat?

The Scorpion Rules (Prisoners of Peace duology) by Erin Bow*

Young Adult. Featuring a dystopian future in which an AI forcibly keeps world peace by holding the children of world leaders hostage. If anyone attempts to start a war, their child will be executed. Greta is one of these children, kept in a school with others like her. But things start to change one day when a new, less obedient hostage arrives. A unique, slowburn take on the YA dystopian craze, also featuring a bisexual love triangle.

Iron Widow (Iron Widow series) by Xiran Jay Zhao

Young adult. Zetian is a citizen of Huaxia, where mecha aliens are constantly trying to breach the Great Wall. To keep them at bay, couples of men and women pilot so called Chrysalises, giant transforming robots. But the pilots are not equal - the women almost always die, sucked dry by their co-pilots. When Zetian sets herself up to become a concubine-pilot, she does so with the plan to assassinate the male pilot who caused her sister's death. Features a polyamorous main relationship.

Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool:

Survival Instincts by May Dawney

Lynn Tanner has been surviving the post-apocalypse alone with only her dog for a long time, trusting no one. But when she's forced to travel the dangerous remains of New York City alongside another woman, her priorities are challenged. Is staying alone really the best way to stay alive?

These Burning Stars by Bethany Jacobs

When con-artist Jun Ironway gets her hands on possible proof of the powerful Nightfoot family, controllers of interplanetary travel, committing genocide, she has in her hands a chance of taking them and their monopoly down. But the family and their allies won't go down easily, and sends two brutal clerics to stop her.

Everfair by Nisi Shawl

A neo-victorian alternate history, in which a part of Congo was kept safe from colonisation, becoming Everfair, a safe haven for both the people of Congo and former slaves returning from America. Here they must struggle to keep this home safe for them all.

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ravensvalley · 1 month

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#Wolves

I need to say a few words here about Wolves and their role in biodiversity. Because I like them, but most of all, they're a must in the wilderness.

Like every time we are standing on the edge of a hiking trail of a National Park, a protected territory, we all must beware of the consequences.

Au contrary to what most people may think of its surface, no matter how large it might be, isn't big enough to sustain a healthy Wolf population over a long term. This large Predator requires a massive home range to find the prey it needs to survive. Studies have shown that all the Wolf packs in Parks must travel outside its boundaries to meet their needs. And these large Canids are also victims of habitat degradation and fragmentation, not to mention deaths of human origin.

And for people who don't know, Wolves are considered as an umbrella species. Which means that efforts to protect it benefit the entire ecosystem, since the Wolf's territory encompasses the territories of many other species with a similar home range.

As for being an apex Predators, Wolves play an important role in biodiversity. Yes, their presence has been scientifically proven to increase the abundance and diversity of plants, mamal's Birds, Amphibiants, and Reptiles. Wolves help to control the amount of Prey on their territory; this prevents an overpopulation of herbivores, which could be detrimental to plant regrowth. Wolves also give a boost to several other animal species by leaving their partially carcasses for scavengers to feed on. Through its influence on the entire food chain and by curbing excessive grazing. So yes, the Wolf is a key species needed to preserve the balance of Ecosystem.

To conclude; Wolves are very wary and will run away from any human they detect through their remarkable senses of hearing and smell - they can sniff out their Prey from more than 2kms away. Several studies have shown that Wolves will try to avoid humans at all costs and flee when approached.

Just to say that all citizens have a responsibility to protect the Wolves.

#Wolves #Wolf #Wildlife Need Protection #IUCN #International Union for Conservation of Nature #ECCC #Environment and Climate Change Canada #FeederWatch #Count Feeder Birds for Science #NCC #Nature Conservancy of Canada #Nature Photography #Nature Canada #Wild Bird Photography #Wildlife Photography #Animal Photography #Mountainous Parts of the Northern Hemisphere #Canada #The RavenKeeper

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littlelionwriting · 3 months

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Your Scent

I wrote most of this in the middle of the night due to insomnia and finished it the next morning. I like the idea of Alastor being able to smell you when you’re ovulating or on your period. I also headcanon that instead of a heart beat Alastor has a radio hum in his chest. Minors DNI!

Summary: Your scent drives Alastor mad specifically during one time of the month.

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Pet names (Dear, Dearest, Deary, Sir), p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink, shadows used as restrains, eating pussy, love bites, vaginal fingering, not proof read

Word count: 1834 words

When you came to stay the hotel, you were nothing more than another guest to Alastor. He gave you no special attention instead just treating you like he would anyone else. But slowly you wiggled your way under his skin. He couldn't pin down the exact moment when he switched from treating like any other guest to becoming something... more.

Every day he was finding that he wanted to see you smile more, he wanted to hear your laughter. He found your company enjoyable and even started inviting you to listen to his radio broadcasts up in his radio tower. Everything about you enticed him from your hair, to your eyes, and even your scent. God your scent. It drove him crazy, the perfect mix of floral and feminine, and it seemed to linger even when you weren't there.

There were times where, when he knew no one would catch him, he would enter your room and hold your pillow to his face just so he could drown in it for a brief moment. The worst part was he could smell you when you ovulated. He could smell it on most women and prided himself on his self-control but every month for several days he would have his world turned upside down by you.

The first time it caught him off guard and he rushed away from you to the sanctuary of his tower. He locked the door and stayed there for almost a week, refusing to leave to eat or drink. Instead, he pleasured himself to the thought of you. It barely took the edge off of the burning want, but it was all he was willing to do. His pride refused to let him admit you had such power over him.

When he finally left when your scent had returned to normal, looking disheveled and eyes just a tad wilder than the other hotel patrons were used to but no one dared question the radio demon.

The next few months passed in much the same way, he tracked the change in your scent and would flee to his tower locking you and the rest of the world out till he believed it safe for him to return. But with each passing month it became more and more unbearable. He could not handle this any longer; the need to have you, the need to breed you.

***

The day had passed like a normal day for you with you resting in your room with a novel to wind down the day. You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard three raps on the door. Placing your bookmark in the book you rose from your bed and went to the door, opening it to reveal Alastor. He gave you his signature grin which you nervously returned.

"Good evening, Dear. Would you mind if I entered your room so we may discuss something in private?" You could feel your face flush under the demon's eyes, the thought of being alone in your room with Alastor sending flutters to your stomach.

"Of course. Please come in." You moved aside and let him enter before closing the door behind him.

"Feel free to sit down if you wish." Alastor responded with a quiet hum, crossing his arms behind his back as you walked back to your bed and sat on the edge.

Alastor stood there watching you, you felt like you were being hunted with how his eyes traced every move you made. It made you squirm and rub your thighs together as you felt yourself becoming aroused just by the proximity to him.

"W-what do you want to talk about, Alastor?" Alastor had to suppress a shiver from running down his spine when you said his name, you looking up at him with your pretty eyes. He took a step towards you, offering his hand to you.

"It seems I'm in a bit of a predicament and you're to blame, my Dear." You scrunched your brow and pursed your lips, thinking hard to try and figure out how you could have been causing him any trouble. Your eyes glanced from his face to his hand before reaching out to put your hand in his.

"I'm afraid I'm not following. What have I done?" Alastor pulled you to your feet and held you close to his chest, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him. You swore that his eyes seemed to glow red in the low light of your bedroom. You swallowed as you put your free hand on his chest, feeling his other hand come to rest on your hip.

"Exist, Darling. You simply smell too delicious. It makes me want nothing but you. It invades my mind and ensnares me." He leaned down, letting his breath tickle your ear and neck. "I want you, Darling. More than anything in this moment." You could feel his grip tighten as he pulled you tighter against his body. A shiver ran down your spine as you closed your eyes and bared your neck to him as your hand traveled up his chest. You pulled at his bowtie, letting out a soft sigh.

"I'm yours." The growl the ripped from his chest was inhumane as he slammed his lips onto yours, stepping forward causing you to step back and having the back of your legs hit the edge of your bed. His hands traveled under your shirt, scratching your skin lightly as his hands traveled to your chest. Alastor took your breast in each hand, groping the flesh and pinching your nipples. You moaned into the bruising kiss, giving him the chance to shove his tongue down your throat. He broke the kiss for only a moment to yank your shirt off of your body and shoving you back onto the plush bed.

You gasped for breath as Alastor removed his shirt and unbuttoned his pants before crawling onto the bed and hovering over you. You reached up to touch him before the shadows suddenly reached out and pulled your wrist back down to the bed restraining you. You let out a soft whine, making him chuckle before he leaned down and started to nip and bite at your bare neck. You moaned as he traveled down the junction of your neck, to your collar bone, and to the valley of your breasts leaving bite marks in his path.

He looked up at you, his eyes not leaving yours as he continued to travel down to the band of your pants, giving you a grin. He pulled your pants and underwear down in one motion, making you shiver at the sudden cold air to your exposed heat. Alastor stared at you for a moment, admiring your weeping pussy before he reached forward and rubbed a single finger across your lower lips. You let out a breathy moan as you arched your back to try and get more friction, but he just let out another chuckle.

"Just look at how wet you are, my Dear. Tell me, have you dreamed of this?" Alastor would never admit he had thought of this moment a million times but teasing you? He would in a heartbeat. Your face turned a cherry red color and you looked away for a moment causing Alastor to growl. He roughly pushed two fingers inside you making you give out a load moan at the unexpected intrusion.

"Do not look away from me. Do you understand?" You nodded your head as you let out a shaky breath.

"Y-yes." He growled again thrusting into you and curling his fingers to where he was hitting the spot that made you see stars.

"Yes what, my Dear?" You let out a pathetic whine.

"Yes, Sir."

"That's more like it." Alastor leaned down between your legs, throwing one over his shoulder as he continued to thrust with his fingers. Hearing your moans and whimpers he gave your thigh a bite, careful not to draw blood but making sure to leave a mark before diving into your heat. He licked at you like a starving man, making sure to time his thrusts with his tongue to be able to taste you as much as possible. With his other hand he reached up and rubbed your pearl, the thrusts and curls of his fingers causing the coil in your stomach to pull tighter and tighter.

You were moaning and writhing under his tongue, the shadows keeping you restrained as you arched your back. You couldn't think, everything was just too much. His name danced off your lips like a prayer that would not go unanswered. Today, right now he was your own personal god. The coil finally snapped, and you let out a cry as you came, becoming limp and gasping for air. Alastor withdrew his fingers from you, licking them clean as he stared down at you.

He leaned forward and kissed you, letting his lips dance against yours as he rubbed his erect cock against your wetness. He nuzzled your neck before slowly thrusting inside, making you gasp and strain against his shadows as you tried to adjust to his size. Your walls clinged to him causing him to moan as you whimpered and moaned. His fingers interlaced with your own as he allowed his shadows to retreat, freeing you. You gave a small thrust upward, signaling you were ready for him to move. Alastor looked down at you and smiled before he began to thrust faster, filling you completely. His thrusts slowly got faster and harder, pounding into your cervix and making you see stars.

"A-Alastor!" His name continued to fall from your lips as his nipped at your neck. His thrusts got wilder and more untamed as you both got closer to your limits. You felt the coil in your tummy stretch tighter and tighter as your moans got louder, not caring who heard you. Alastor groaned and growled, panting as he felt your gummy walls squeezing him.

"Pleasepleaseplease." You chanted as you felt yourself getting closer and closer with Alastor not far behind. You screamed his name when it came crashing down, your walls contracting and arching your back as the world went static. Alastor let out a guttural roar before biting your neck and drawing blood, as thick ropes of cum coated your insides.

Alastor languidly licked at the blood at your neck making you whimper softly, earning a chuckle from him. He stayed on top of you for a few moments before slowly pulling out and laying next to you. You looked over at him, smiling at him which he returned.

"Are you feeling alright, Deary?" You didn't trust your voice, so you nodded. His smile grew larger as he reached for you, pulling you to him and laying you across his chest. "Get some rest then." You gave no objections as you snuggled into his chest and closed your eyes listening to the soft hum of the radio inside his chest.

Want to buy me a coffee or commission a short story? Find me here: https://ko-fi.com/littleleonlion

#x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel

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tervaneula · 1 year

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a lesson in trust by katterv

Leo feels guilty for getting Raph caught by the Krang and refuses to let go of that burden. His big brother isn't having it anymore.

–

"Raph doesn't regret it."

Leonardo starts to lift his head but deems it too bothersome and lets his cheek smush back against Raphael's plastron. He almost puts his phone down but that's also too much effort, so he keeps blankly staring at the screen, only half paying attention both to the muted video and his brother.

"Regret what, big bro?"

"Getting between you and the Krang."

Leonardo tenses up as soon as those words leave Raph's mouth and his grip on his phone tightens. If he hadn’t been distracted he would have realised what Raph was going to say before prompting him to continue. He wants to flee.

His big brother clearly senses that as a heavy but gentle hand settles onto his shell, keeping him snug against the snapper.

"We're talking about this, Leo."

–

I've held off posting this because I wanted to redraw it to show the top of Raph's shell instead of the blanket hiding it but it's been too long and I'm exhausted and a little sad rn and these turtles make me soft so off it goes into the wilderness

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt fanfiction #rise leo #rise leonardo #rise raph #rise raphael #tervdraws #tervdrabbles #tcest dni #i'm the oldest of my siblings and while we're nowhere as close as the turtles are the burden is still there #i need a raph. raph especially needs a raph. i have feelings

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rocorambles · 8 months

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Final Girl: Act II

Pairing: Daichi x Reader x Kuroo

Tags: NSFW, Yandere, Non-Con, Dehumanization, Humiliation, Belly Expansion/Forced Enema and Water Sports, Mind-Break, Non-Con Photography/Filming, Forced Bondage, Sex Machines, Cow Tail Plug

A/N: Think I hit the biggest TWs, but just be warned this is leaning into Dead Dove territory and there’s a lot here. My depraved mind is clearly making up for the literal years I’ve left you all hanging smut wise.

Link to Final Girl: Act I

Women are trained actors when it comes to fooling men and you tell yourself this is no different than smoothly weaning off the unwanted attention of an annoyingly persistent man at a bar. Fluttering your eyelashes, laughing and smiling on cue, maybe slightly overexaggerating how divine Daichi’s cooking is, you’re the epitome of a silly smitten woman. Too bad you’re pitted against two even more veteran actors who are enjoying your little act, enjoying pushing your fraying nerves.

A feline smile widens at how your muscles subtly tighten, swiftly painted over by a coy smile when calloused hands purposefully linger and litter your body with far too many casual touches.

An eyebrow above seemingly kind brown eyes slightly arches in amusement at how you pretend to admire the interior of the cabin, trying to hide how your gaze pauses at every possible escape route.

But as fun as it is to watch you flounder about, the show must go on.

“I’m glad you like the meal. The eggs are actually from the neighbor who lives on the land next door.”

Both men hide their shared mirth at how your neck practically snaps towards them at those words. How predictable.

“Oh, you have a neighbor? Where? It didn’t seem like there was anyone nearby when I found your cabin…”

You drone on, every carefully inquisitive phrase and sentence nothing new to the two players watching you unknowingly recite your script word for word. Intermission is over and the second act has officially begun.

Scene: Foolish girl walks right into an obviously placed trap.

It’s a delicate dance feigning interest, coquettish charms on full display while gently turning down the offers to stay up late that night. A well placed giggle here and there while you gracefully dodge the proffered glasses of wine Kuroo seems set on you drinking. An Oscar worthy rendition of an exhausted woman when Daichi playfully brings out a deck of playing cards. It takes everything in you to pace yourself as you climb up the stairs to the guest bedroom, to keep up the act with an exaggerated yawn, when every instinct in you is begging you to flee and run as fast as your legs can take you.

Safely behind your locked door, you quietly wait for the dead of night while two beasts silently prowl and scheme beneath you.

Let the hunt begin.

It’s been hours since you’ve heard the sound of their voices, hours since you’ve heard both of them enter and close their respective doors, hours since you’ve heard any sound at all in the house. Surely they must be deep asleep?

You can’t risk double checking, not when every footstep you take is already an enormous risk. So instead you head directly for the door, slipping into the shadows as best you can, racing in the direction that Daichi had mentioned their neighbor occupied.

All you hear is your racing heart. All you see is endless greenery. Yet you feel that something is following you, watching you, hunting you. You don’t dare to fully stop, but confusion laces your natural instincts when every harried gaze backwards reveals nothing but the eerie darkness of the wilderness that encompasses you.

It feels like you’ve been running for ages, lungs burning, legs aching. Doubt and panic creep into your mind. How far did Daichi say this neighbor lived? Were you heading in the wrong direction- Your spiraling train of thought abruptly stops as the top of a structure peeks out from above the treeline. Could that be…A relieved sob forces its way out of your choked up throat as the outline of a barn becomes clearer with every approaching step. Hope fuels you to the finish line.

This has to be the neighbor’s farm, but you falter as you draw nearer. For an active working farm Daichi and Kuroo had been chatting a storm up about this morning, it’s awfully quiet. Not an animal in sight. You reason with yourself that it’s simply because of the odd hours. Of course any sane living creature would be asleep at this time. You’re sure the animals are just in their stables and pens. You’ll knock on the door and someone will answer. They’ll help you and everything will be alright.

Knock Knock

Scene: Girl ignores all warning signs.

You’re not completely wrong. When you knock someone does answer and your legs turn to lead as familiar brown eyes amusedly scan you over.

“Well well well, doesn’t this feel like deja vu? You know, it’s dangerous for girls to visit stranger’s homes. You should really fix that bad habit.”

Involuntarily your body takes a shaky step backwards only to collide with a firm surface and suddenly arms are snaking around you, pinning you in place, an unnervingly familiar sly voice chuckling in your ear.

“That was a fun little run, princess. I’ve worked up quite the appetite.”

You cry out, fight instincts taking over your body with flight no longer being an option as Kuroo’s arms painfully tighten their hold on you while he sinks teeth into your skin, biting, sucking, marking your vulnerably exposed neck. Squirming, kicking, flailing to no avail, you let out a choked sob when you realize all you’re doing is enticing the man behind you more, tears forming in your eyes as you feel him harden, hear his lewd moans in your ears as he ruts his clothed erection against you from behind.

You’re manhandled further into the barn, four arms now easily subduing you, toying with you as your struggles are repaid with sharp smacks to your ass, cruel pinches to your now exposed nipples as your clothes are torn off of you. Then suddenly, for a split second, you’re able to breathe, dilated pupils whirling around trying to understand what’s going on-

The barn fills with your screams as a pelt of cold water washes over you, your sobs and writhing a stark contrast to Kuroo’s relaxed smile as he lazily aims the hose at you. But before you can even think about lunging towards him you’re pulled onto Daichi’s lap, his hands cupping your breasts, almost laughably intimate in the way they knead and stroke your skin, lathering soapy suds onto every inch of you. You harshly throw your head back hoping to make contact, anger beginning to lace itself among your tumultuous emotions, but Daichi’s a pro at this, easily foreshadowing your every move. Your retaliation is countered by a painfully accurate smack to the space between your legs, exposed for all to see as Daichi’s knees hook between yours, prying your thighs open.

You feel like livestock, strung up on display for its owners to examine, one of Daichi’s hands holding your wrists behind your back, the position forcing your back to arch, thrusting your chest on full display, the cool night air brushing against your most intimate parts between your spread legs. There’s nothing you can do as Kuroo stalks closer to the two of you, hose still in hand, a razor sharp smile splitting his handsome face. It’s humiliating how Daichi treats you like a frightened animal, cooing at you, deft fingers skillfully tugging and flicking your nipples, drawing soothing gentle lines down your navel before landing at their final destination.

“Good girl.”

His words barely register as you let out a shaky moan when he circles your clit, your body unwillingly melting into his touch. But then you’re tensing, begging them to stop as Kuroo slips one finger inside of you, then two, the feeling of them scissoring inside of you combined with Daichi’s touches and his voice overwhelming, terrifying, delicious. There are three fingers in you now, the embarrassing sound of your leaking hungry cunt brutally apparent in the empty silent space.

“What a dirty girl. I knew you were a slut, but you’re liking this even more than I thought you would. Time to wash you again.”

You mewl in confusion when Kuroo suddenly pulls out of you eliciting mocking laughs from both men, but you’re not left empty for long and you shriek as the hose is ruthlessly plunged into you, cold water gushing into you, filling you, expanding your insides more than you could ever have imagined. Seconds feel like ages and you plead with them to stop, whimpering in discomfort as Daichi splays his free hand across your now bulging stomach. Just when you don’t think you can take anywhere it stops and hot tears of humiliation stray from your eyes as Kuroo pulls the hose out, a splattering of water you can’t control leaking from your clenching hole.

It takes everything in you to not let any more water out. It hurts, the fullness almost unbearable. But you won’t give them the satisfaction- Can’t give them the satisfaction of debasing you further by relieving yourself in front of them like a damn animal.

Except you do. After all, will power can only do so much against biology and you cry out as Daichi forcefully presses down on your stomach, a vulgar explosion of water expelling from between your legs, the harsh flash of a camera in Kuroo’s hands capturing every moment of your disgraceful fall.

Something inside you breaks at that moment. This can’t be real. How could this be happening to you? Things like this don’t happen in real life. It hurts to think.

So, you stop.

It’s easier to give in. Easier to accept the way Kuroo’s cock too easily sinks into your quivering and still dripping wet hole. Easier to melt into Daichi’s soothing voice and touch as he praises your newfound obedience while they perform the same cleansing ritual to your back hole. Easier to moan, drool, and enjoy the stretch and slide of both their cocks fucking you. One at a time. Two at a time. Your mouth is also used when both holes are deemed sufficiently christened…at least for now.

You’re so warm. Warm from the two bodies entwining and smothering you between them. Warm from the cum leaking from every crevice of your body. Warm from the graciously more comfortable temperate shower your two captors decide to reward you with.

Eyes heavy, breath slowing into an exhausted sleep cadence, you barely react to the leather collar carefully locked around your neck, only stirring slightly at the obnoxious sound of the cowbell on it ringing as you’re moved to a different section of the barn, a blindfold wrapped around your head. You sleepily whine as you’re repositioned, your stomach laid across a plush leather surface, legs, arms, and neck supported and locked into position, your breasts hanging below you.

Sleep is lulling you in, finally. Maybe if you sleep and wake up, it’ll all just be a dream, a nightmare. But there’s something too real about the sudden thrumming of electricity that fills the air, something too real about the dildo thrusting in and out of you, something too real about the vibrating plug being pushed into your ass, a pretty cow tail attached to it that brushes and sways against you with every limited movement you make. And there’s something too real about the devices being attached to your breasts, something too real about the suction as your nipples are milked, the vibrators and brushes inside of the plastic cups only enhancing your overstimulation.

Unknown to you, two pairs of eyes watch you, drinking in the sight of their newest pet, satisfied smiles on their lips as they watch you helplessly thrash around as much as your restraints will let you, your cries of ecstasy a sweet melody to their ears as you’re forced to come undone over and over again, a slave to the pleasure forced upon you.

End of Act II.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere daichi #yandere daichi x reader #kuroo smut #daichi smut #haikyuu smut

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pennyellee · 6 months

Text

CHAPTER VI - súton

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of God, mentions of alcohol, manhandling, mentions of murder, gun use, abduction, attempted non-con, gaslighting, vomiting, anxiety, choking, decapitation, strong language, smut, loss of virginity

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 11,1K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VII

súton (n.) twilight; the approach of death or the end of something

Images flashed through her mind like fragments of a dream, mixing reality with a disorienting haze. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she braced herself for what was to come. She was still in her temporary private quarters. Was it all just a dream? Confusion ran through Y/N like the hot blood inside her veins.

The engine of the roaring car pierced her ears and her vision was still blurry. “Where am I?” she whispered, her voice slowly progressing to realise the situation. She grabbed the letter seat, trying to pull herself up.

“Chan-yeol?” she asked, pressured.

“Little bird, are you ready to fly away?” he laughed. Y/N looked at him with terror in her pupils.

“Are you out of your mind? You just signed your own death certificate Chan-yeol!” This is bad. Her thoughts spoke to her in distress, each and one of them telling her to do something.

“What, a sudden change of heart? Did you not want me to ship you off to the new land?” said the man, accelerating the car.

“He’s going to slaughter everyone!” she screamed.

“You did not think of that when you ran the last time or the time before, why now Y/N?” He spitted his words out, looking at her through the mirror. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to collect herself before she would lose her mind for good.

“He has the whole family on a silver platter there Chan-yeol! Turn the car right now!”

“We’re almost there.” He declared.

“Yoongi?!” was the first name that came to her mind. Voice full of fear. The sound of urgent footsteps echoed around her, crescendoing with the abrupt swing of the door. However, the one she sought, the man whose name she called, was not in her sight.

“Namjoon?” she called out, the surprise evident in her voice, interwoven with a thread of relief.

“How do you feel?” He asked, slowly approaching her petite form.

“What— I don’t understand,” she struggled to articulate her bewildered thoughts.

“You’ll thank me later.”

Chan-yeol’s words cut through the frosty air. He steered the car to the side of the road. Snow was everywhere she could see, each surface draped in ethereal white. Without waiting for the vehicle to come to a complete halt, Y/N flung the car door open, her steps bold as she ventured out into the wilderness.

The direction from which they arrived became a backdrop as she briskly distanced herself from Chan-yeol’s presence.

“This might be your last chance to flee this wicked world, girl.” His voice, heightened in intensity, reached her ears. Y/N stopped in tracks — the ultimatum clear.

Her family on one side, her newfound reality on the other – a choice lay before her.

“You have no idea what you just did!” she screamed defiantly, she refused to spare him a glance. “You’ve ruined everything!”

“Y/N?” a different voice echoed and her eyes widened at the unexpected interruption.

“I did not, Namjoon. I did not try to run away. You have to believe me!” Her words tumbled out in a frantic attempt to convey her innocence. Namjoon, his touch gentle, enveloped her small hands in his.

“Shhh… I know, it’s alright.” Namjoon cooed at the bride. And that’s when every single picture came back to her mind.

“How—how did you get here, for the love of God?” Y/N pivoted towards the speaking man, memories of their shared past flooding back as if the study hall of Shenyang’s University was just yesterday.

“I came for you,” he declared.

“For me?” She asked, disbelief in her voice.

“For me?!” she repeated, a frustrated laugh bubbling up. “Now you’re coming for me.” Y/N recalled the day he declared that she was in this battle alone, a stark contrast to their current proximity. They were never that close, he was too afraid to even hold her hand or maintain prolonged eye contact. But she considered him to be a friend, nonetheless.

“I love you,” he confessed, staring directly into her eyes.

“You love me?” She asked, mocking him, a bitter edge to her tone.

“Where was this love when I needed to run the hell out of the continent, huh?” She closed the distance between them, pushing him with aggressive force.

“You're a coward, Han Chen,” she spat, the venom in her voice cutting through the tension.

“I have a plan, Y/N,” he replied, brushing off her words even as they stung.

“Hmm… you have a plan. And what is this plan exactly?”

“He won’t want you if you’re ruined, Y/N.”

His words hit her like a cold gust of wind, and she gasped at the implications.

The haunting melody of that familiar song resonated in her mind once again.

“He—he attempted to rape me.” Y/N looked through her teary eyes directly at Namjoon's, whose mimics told her, she is right.

“He paid for that with his life.”

“You’re going to kill us all!” Her words became the truth once the first bullet was fired, finding its mark in Chen’s head. Y/N witnessed his eyes blackening, a vacancy replacing the spark of life.

He was gone. Blood dripped down his neck, staining her chest, her breath hitching as her vision blurred. Chan-yeol swore and fumbled with his gun, leaving Y/N to crumple to the ground, as he was tightly holding her down for the devil’s messenger to do the unforgivable.

Her eyes narrowed at the white sky. Chen’s lifeless body collapsing onto her smaller frame. Y/N’s hands trembled as she mustered the strength to slowly push his corpse away.

“Are you alright?” she heard him before she saw him above her.

“What about the wedding?” she asked, curiosity mingling with the shock that gripped her.

“We’ll proceed—” he answered, addressing yet another of her fears.

Speech and vision eluded her. “Y/N?” he asked again, gently throwing Chen’s lifeless body off her. “Darling, please say something.” His concern was palpable.

“Let me go, you fuckers!” Chan-yeol’s enraged screams echoed nearby. He hadn’t made a clean escape after all.

Hoseok helped her sit. Y/N’s eyes mirrored the emptiness that had claimed Chen’s.

“Darling?” Hoseok urged, attempting to coax her back to the present.

“—and hold a trial tomorrow.”

“Trail?” she asked, her voice fragile.

“Chan-yeol was a part of our clan. He is a traitor, and we’ll treat him as such.”

“And what about—”

She cast one more glance at Chen’s lifeless form before shifting her attention to Chan-yeol, struggling on the ground, surrounded by Min soldiers from whom she only recognised Jungkook.

“I want to go back, Hoseok-ssi. Please take me back.” Her voice wavered. Hoseok breathed out, relieved, helping her stand. As she turned to look at Chan-yeol, his screams pierced the air.

“Don’t look that way, sweetie,” Hoseok intervened, guiding her away from the chaotic scene. Only when they reached the parked cars, a good half a mile away from the unfolding drama, did she exhale and allow herself to close her eyes.

“Yoongi is beyond pissed. We could have avoided this if you would tell him about that foolish boy.”

“I swear, Namjoon, we were not... we did not—” she stammered.

“—I did not know he would come look for me nor do that….”

“Do not tell that to me, princess,” he sighed.

“I need you to get dressed. We have already postponed it, and we cannot do it any longer.”

“Sure,” were her only words to him.

“She called for you, brother,” the right-hand man spoke as he entered the boss’s office, where Yoongi was finally getting ready for the wedding.

“Explain,” the young groom responded while fixing his tux in front of the mirror.

“She called your name when she woke up.”

“Did she?” Yoongi felt a spark of hope that he would indeed become her person, her lover, her everything, just as she was to him.

The right-hand man chuckled at his questioning response, knowing it warmed Yoongi’s heart.

“Damn this one tradition; you should go and see her.”

“I would, but that would ruin the thrill, wouldn’t it, hmm,” he hummed.

“You’re getting married, brother.”

“Yes, today I’m getting married, and tomorrow I have to deal with a man who kidnapped my woman and let the other fucker almost rape her,” Yoongi spat, hitting the wall next to the mirror. He never felt greater anxiety than when Xiaoli said she was taken away from him. How ironic that he is to be the one who feels anxious.

Her mother crying, father screaming at everyone, younger sister praying. Yoongi had a feeling that she would not be that stupid to run away when he had her family inside the hotel.

“Nothing else will go wrong.”

“Did you greet the Yamamotos?” The Yakuza clan was invited to the wedding, a bold move, and what was even bolder—they accepted and arrived.

“I surely did, brother,” said Namjoon.

“Good,” Yoongi smirked, not expecting what is yet to come.

“Everything is as it should be.”

“I don’t want Y/N’s father near her until the wedding, Jungkook-ah,” requested Yoongi from the passive listener, seated just a few meters away on the sofa, sipping on his glass of white liquor.

“As you wish, Hyung,” he put the glass down and stood up, fixing his tux and putting on his white hat.

“And for fuck’s sake, patch those knuckles, aight?” Yoongi screamed playfully after him.

The temple, a sanctuary of weary souls, stood solemnly bearing witness to the union unfolding within its hallowed walls.

The bride, adorned in a crimson hanfu dress, with beautiful shining golden details on her long sleeves, walked the creaking wooden path towards the temple’s entrance, her steps heavy with the knowledge of what is awaiting her. The rich fabric of her dress billowed like a blood-red sea, a stark contrast to the pallor of her face that concealed emotions that dared not surface.

The courtyard was adorned with bright red and white paper lanterns when she passed it. She did not dare to look around at all the noble underground hats who had gathered to witness the union of two syndicates.

The flickering candles cast eerie, dancing shadows upon the ancient murals depicting forgotten legends. The distant sounds of the city, with its bustling streets and restless souls, provided a haunting contrast to the stillness of this timeless ceremony. The soft strains of the gayageum and the rhythmic beats of the janggu filled the air.

At the temple’s altar, the groom, equally somber in attire, awaited the bride. His eyes, like deep pools, hinted at the secrets he carried, secrets buried beneath, he wished to share with her.

The chants of the officiating monk resonated through the temple; a haunting reminder of the spiritual solace sought amidst the chaos of the outside world. Their union was a flicker of defiance against the oppressive forces that sought to extinguish the spirit of a nation. She was not initially meant to be his, fate seemed to have favoured him, and Yoongi thanked the almighty for bringing her to him.

Y/N dared not look at him, her breath unsteady, visible puffs in the cold air. The gal held her head high nonetheless, she was desperately trying not to give in to her intrusive thoughts and turn around, flee for her life, try one last time.

The gun pressed to Daiyu’s back served as a grim reminder, preventing her from succumbing to intrusive thoughts. She could see the tears that were in her eyes as she held tightly her little son. Chan-yeol, held captive and beaten for sins he performed.

The eyes of the guests felt heavy, especially her father’s, still unamused by the young leader’s audacity, keeping his hand tightly on his neck. Forbidden from seeing his own daughter before the ceremony, he seethed with anger, his frustration directed at the young Kkangpae.

Y/N’s heartbeat echoed loudly as she climbed the stairs to stand face-to-face with Yoongi, trying to find the courage to look at him. His eyes were full of expectations, he was waiting for this moment.

The exchange of bows signified respect and commitment. If this would be a traditional wedding, not minding their social status in the syndicates, they would continue with drinking rice wine sikhye, symbolizing the blending of their lives.

But this was not a common wedding. This ceremony was different. Altered by the traditions of the Min Clan. The moment arrived when Y/N extended her palm to take the knife from Yoongi’s hands. A cup of rice wine awaited underneath, capturing every drop of her blood. Their union, a pledge of loyalty through soul, blood, and mind.

Y/N met Yoongi’s eyes as she applied pressure to the hand holding the knife, slicing through his skin. A sadistic flicker seemed to pass through his eyes, as if he was enjoying the pain she was inflicting on him.

The rice wine now mixed with their blood and the heavy silence was driving Y/N mad.

The young Kkangpae lifted the cup to her lips, her eyes locked with Yoongi’s. Observing his actions closely, she followed suit, and he took a far bigger sip than her, almost devouring it all.

Setting the cup down they both extended their wounded hands. The golden wedding band that Yoongi slipped onto her finger, seemed to match her engagement ring that sat before it, closer to her knuckle. Y/N couldn’t stop looking at her hand. This was an explicit symbol of her being a taken woman now. No one else to touch, to have, and in their world — to own.

“Darling,” Yoongi whispered quietly, but still managed to keep the demand in his tone visible. Y/N shook her head to get herself to think straight again, realising she had lingered too long on the rings, delaying the public ceremony’s final step.

Huffing out collected air, she slipped the wedding band onto Yoongi’s finger, uniting them.

The monk placed a thick crimson ribbon over their hands, proclaiming them man and wife. No vows echoed like in the far west, no intimate encounters within the public ceremony, despite Yoongi’s yearning to press his lips against hers.

Y/N knew very well that her father scoffed and cursed at the young leader yet again for choosing to follow his wedding traditions and not theirs. And ultimately, there was no paying respect to the elders.

Kkangpae does not bow down to anyone. Nor will his new bride.

Y/N was especially glad she does not have to do that nor the tea ceremony she always found dull. Not that she particularly enjoyed being controlled and swept by the demands of Yoongi’s clan.

The monk’s chants grew louder again, filling the temple with an eerie resonance. Y/N and Yoongi turned to face the gathered members of their syndicates, their families, and the underworld elite who had come to witness this union.

The banquet that followed was a lavish affair as is fit for the Min clan. The tables groaned under the weight of sumptuous dishes, and the air filled with the tantalizing aroma of delicacies prepared by the finest chefs. Nonetheless, Y/N could sense the atmosphere that was charged with tension. As if everyone was prepared to cast guns and kill each other.

Y/N felt the weight of her father’s glare before she could see him eye to eye. Her mimicry has shown nothing more but pure disgust when Wang Zemo shook the scarred leader’s hand congratulating them on their marriage. Y/N did not trust her father. His judgment was always clouded by power.

“You do not seem pleased, father,” Y/N remarked, exposing him. Her mother nervously laughed, hoping to prevent a disturbance between the two clans. She eyed him, expecting an answer from him.

“I’m not pleased that your husband allowed you to be kidnapped,” he retorted, making Yoongi squeeze Y/N’s hip, a possessive gesture.

“But he aided a rescue team in no time, daddy. Meanwhile, you could not even keep me at home,” Y/N fired back, laughing in her father’s face, not believing her own words defended the young Kkangpae that was now amusingly smirking next to her. She could see how her father’s brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, fuming at his daughter. Y/N can do that now, she does not owe her father loyalty anymore.

Her mother stopped him before he could raise his hand causing commotion within the two clans, instead he lifted his free arm pointing a warning finger at her. Y/N smiled sweetly and watched her mother pull his arm until he walked with her. Only when he was far away did she ask her new husband.

“Did he give you trouble when you asked for Xiaoli’s hand in marriage on behalf of Taehyung?” The young leader only hummed in response, his eyes were focused on something different from her now, and Y/N could not help but turn her head in the same direction as he was looking.

What unsettled her the most was the presence of Yamamotos. Yoongi nor anyone did not mention single tweet about these poisonous guests. Therefore, she felt her stomach rotate when they were approaching and for the first time in forever, Y/N pressed herself closer to Yoongi, intertwining their fingers together.

Of course, she feared them. She always viewed her father’s tactics and measures quite cruel. But if Wang Zemo was cruel than Yamamoto was brutal. And it was only natural to fear such a brutal syndicate as Yakuza.

“Congratulations, Min,” said the older male in Japanese. He did not bother to speak the tongue of his enemy’s territory, but he knew they would understand perfectly. The man had such a strong and intense aura around him. He ruled with fear, that thing was obvious.

He held his hand to Yoongi who accepted it for both your and his behalf, shaking it with firm grip, piercing his eyes alongside.

“You got yourself a fine woman, Min, —” he leered at Y/N, his gaze filled with hunger. A wave of disgust washed over her.

“She has caused you quite a bit of trouble, has she not?” he continued, finishing his remark. Y/N understood that their marriage was a calculated move that would redefine the power dynamics within the criminal underworld. Whether Yamamoto perceived the Mins as a threat remained an assumption on her part.

“Not as much trouble as you sending that foolish boy to his death,” Yoongi added, causing Y/N’s breath to hitch. Slowly, her eyes lifted to Yoongi, whose gaze now held an intensity that made the scar glow with anger. Y/N did not understand any bit of it. Had he not come willingly? No, that simply cannot be, there had to be an ulterior motive to commit such a sin.

“Certainly, we knew you would handle him and your bride just as you saw fit.”

“Surely, —” Yoongi replied with a dark undertone and a sinister smile. A wave of nausea rolled through Y/N. If they lingered in the presence of the Japanese Yakuza any longer, she might empty her stomach right there. Thankfully, they bid a seemingly cordial farewell, leaving to take their seats behind the tables and Y/N could at least breathe out.

“Yoongi—” she began once they were out of earshot. He cast her a brief glance before pivoting to examine her, noting her even paler face.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she stumbled the words out of her system fast. Y/N released Yoongi’s hand to cover her mouth.

“Oh God,” her sister’s whisper reached her ears, a reminder of their public setting, alerting her that she is still in public, and the eyes will pry.

Y/N swiftly walked — not ran, to avoid drawing attention — towards the nearest door leading outside to the cold. Once in the cold air again, she emptied her stomach.

“It’s okay,” Y/N heard her sister’s voice yet again, just before her hands were soothingly rubbing her back. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe the cold air in. She was grateful it was her sister offering comfort, not the groom. At least Xiaoli realized that Y/N wouldn’t want Yoongi to see her now. Nor any other prying eyes.

“It’s not okay, Xiaoli,” said Y/N through tears, feeling a profound, heart-wrenching anxiety and fear settling in her core.

“They fucking sent him to rape me, and God knows what else.”

“And he did not manage to do that. Hoseok took care of that. Jungkook took care of that, —”

Y/N recalled, her mind flashing to Jungkook storming into her room, his concern evident as he bombarded her with questions about her well-being. Guilt weighed on him for getting entangled with Chan-yeol instead of going straight to her. As her new brother, he felt an obligation to protect her, just like Hoseok, who would go to any lengths for her.

And that leaves Y/N to wonder. She pondered the sincerity behind their sympathy. Was it because of her supposed relationship with their brother, or was there a genuine connection forming? For a fleeting moment, she wondered if her aunt sensed the potential for them to become family, to be her home.

“—Leader Min will see to it that he is brought to justice,” Xiaoli continued, always sure to express her love for Yoongi.

Y/N looked down at her stained dress with a sense of pity, both for herself and the situation. A deep sense of sadness remained.

“I just wish it did not have to be this way,” she confessed, her voice filled with sorrow. “I wish I could have chosen this path for myself, rather than having it forced upon me.”

“But this is not the world or lifetime where you could do that,” her sister replied, and for a brief moment, Y/N felt a glimmer of understanding.

“I know,” she whispered quietly. “He used to be my friend; you know. Despite what he did, I never thought he would die in front of my eyes, —” her words held honesty, tinged with something else.

“And I never thought that I would be relieved they came in time and shot him dead, Xiaoli,” Y/N admitted, finally getting it off her chest.

“Taehyung-oppa said they paid him to do it.” Xiaoli disclosed. Y/N dreaded this scenario; she suspected that Chen did not act out of love for her. No one who loved someone would commit such a horrendous act.

Y/N scoffed, a desperate laugh escaping her. “Do you know what will happen to Chan-yeol?” She hadn’t had the chance to discuss this with Yoongi, leaving her in the dark and feeling consumed by it.

“He is held captive. That is all I know,” Xiaoli replied while helping Y/N stand. She needed to change her dress; there was no way she could return in this state.

“Y/N?” Xiaoli asked. Her older sister only hummed in response.

“If you attempt to run ever again, Daiyu is going to die—” Y/N paused for a moment.

“—He won’t hurt me, I’ll be betrothed to Taehyung-oppa. But Daiyu is still in the open.”

“Did you talk to her?” She asked.

“No,” Xiaoli replied, “but I talked to Kkangpae Min. He confirmed his intentions.”

“And it did not move you one bit?” Said Y/N surprised with what degree of calmness her sister is speaking of this.

Yoongi wanted to make it abundantly clear that he would take drastic measures if she attempted to escape again. He wanted her to fear the consequences, to be consumed by the dread of what might happen if she defied him; deliberately informing Xiaoli, knowing the bond between the sisters was a weak point for Y/N.

“I would not dare to go against his word.” Y/N only smiled sadly at her sister’s words. She does not understand. How could she?

The way to her chamber felt endless. Y/N was acutely aware of her disheveled state and the need for privacy. Another set of footsteps behind her and Xiaoli quickened her heart with anxiety.

“Y/N?” The soothing voice of the doctor, Seokjin, reached her ears, and she could not have been more relieved. Without turning around, she responded.

“I just need to change. I’m fine, Seokjin.”

Y/N wasted no time in stepping inside her room once they finally reached it. Seokjin followed, his demeanour calm and professional, yet she sensed a hint of concern in his eyes.

As she began changing out of the crimson robe from the wedding ceremony, Y/N couldn’t deny the unease that lingered within her.

“You can tell him I will be back in a little while, Seokjin.” Y/N turned to Seokjin, offering a weak smile.

“Are you sure you are feeling well?” Seokjin nodded; his expression was gentle.

“It’s just the anxiety.” Said Y/N. Her face still bore the traces of tears and turmoil, but she resolved to face the celebration with as much grace as she could muster. She knew that in the world she inhabited, appearances were everything.

Seokjin stood by the door, waiting patiently. “I’ll change and come right away,” she promised to the older male.

“Very well,” he answered simply and closed the door behind him leaving her and Xiaoli alone.

The intricate layers of fabric and silk were carefully removed, revealing a simpler, yet equally elegant, hanfu beneath — this one was a shade of soft lavender.

“Do you want to wear the hanbok instead?” Xiaoli asked. Does she? Just this morning, she insisted that her wedding dress will be a representation of the culture she is coming from. Looking over at the beautiful crimson and royal blue hanbok that she was supposed to wear as her wedding dress, Y/N hesitated.

“I don’t feel like wearing a wedding dress anymore, Xiaoli.” Her sister nodded in understanding, but beneath her supportive gaze, there lingered a hint of disappointment. Xiaoli had hoped that Y/N would fully embrace the culture of the Min clan, a desire likely shared by the clan’s leader. However, Y/N’s desire was to stay true to her Chinese roots for a little bit longer. If this is the only way she can remain herself, she is willing to rebel against him as long as she can.

She heard her sister sigh as she handed her the crimson flowery qipao. “You could at least meet him in the middle.” Xiaoli muttered, her disappointment evident.

“Xiaoli, if you did not notice I’m having a really bad day today.” Y/N’s patience was wearing thin. She had endured enough turmoil for one day, and the idea of appeasing Yoongi’s wishes no longer held much appeal.

“I understand—” Xiaoli wanted to say before Y/N interrupted her with the welling tears in her eyes and raised voice.

“No, you do not understand, Xiaoli!” Said Y/N, sliding down to a lower cushion chair, hugging her head with her small hands.

“But you are not even trying, Y/N,” Xiaoli retorted.

“Because I’m gasping for air every single time! I’m drowning, and yet I cannot learn to swim—” she cried out, clutching the fabric of her hanfu to the point she feared it would tear.

“All of you are blindly trying to convince me that this is the best that could ever happen to me—” she continued.

“—like you’re some kind of Gods that shall decide one’s fate.”

Xiaoli sighed, her frustration and discomfort evident. “All we do is care for you, truly, madly, deeply.”

Y/N looked up, her eyes filled with a mixture of despair and defiance.

“Are you listening to yourself, sister?!” Y/N did not even give her a chance to answer.

“—We are family, by blood, Xiaoli, I thought you cared about me to be more than just a pawn—” this time Xiaoli interrupted her older sister.

“And because we are family, I am trying to protect what matters to all of us.” Xiaoli knelt beside her, trying to console Y/N.

“What about what matters to me?” Y/N retorted; her voice shaky. “What about my dreams, my choices? He took that from me.”

Xiaoli hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “We all have to make sacrifices. And I know that you will make the best out of this.”

Y/N looked at her sister, a mix of disbelief and sadness in her eyes. “Is this the price of my freedom?”

“If this was another life, you could have what you truly desire.” Said Xiaoli. Y/N wiped away her tears before she spoke.

“I won’t let—” Y/N inquired.

“The consequences will be severe.” Said Xiaoli before Y/N could utter her thought as if she knew what she wanted to say.

“Remember that before you will do anything.”

The distant strains of music and laughter reached their ears when Xiaoli opened the door, walking through it in the direction of the celebration. Y/N put on a mask of composure, her posture regal, and her expression neutral. She couldn’t let anyone see the turmoil within her. Tonight, she would play the role expected of her, all while strategizing her next moves in this complex and dangerous game.

“Min Buin?!” a voice called out, unfamiliar and tinged with a strange mixture of reverence and unease — it sent a shiver down her spine.

A man stood right in the middle of the hall behind her. He was dressed in a dark, tailored suit that exuded authority, a stark departure from the opulence of the occasion.

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder who this enigmatic figure was and why he had singled her out with that title,

“Min Buin?!” He repeated again. Y/N turned her head slightly to Xiaoli, now a few steps closer to the banquet, her expression wary.

“Who’s asking?” she demanded, a hint of protectiveness in her voice. The man did not seem to be perturbed by Y/N’s defensive stance. Instead, he offered a faint, cryptic smile.

“Do you not know?” His tone took a different direction. He stepped closer to them.

“Y/N,” Xiaoli gulped down, her voice trembling. “That is Yamamoto Itsuki.” By how her sister spoke Y/N understood that this is the very man she was supposed to marry.

“Go.” She whispered to her sister who did not hesitate to run down the corridor and alert anyone. Only once Y/N was sure that her sister was far away did she speak.

“What is your business with me?” Y/N asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. The man’s smile widened slightly, revealing teeth that seemed unnaturally sharp in the dim light.

“Business?” He laughed. Y/N’s mind raced as she absorbed his words. She had been thrust into this world, initially a pawn in a dangerous game, but now it seemed that her role was evolving.

“I have unfinished business with you, yes.” He said after a few silent moments. Only her heavy breathing could be heard.

“I’m very much sure that a business between us never started in the first place; therefore, it seems to me we have nothing to talk about,” said Y/N, swiftly turning her body back to its original position, ready to flee to the banquet and seek help.

As she predicted, this day could only get worse as she found herself pinned to the nearest wall. Y/N could feel his breath on her face, a strong large hand enveloped her throat, pressing her to the wall harder and making it hard to breathe. Y/N’s breathing skipped intervals.

“You are one greedy ungrateful little bitch, are you not?” He spat the words into her face, squeezing her neck even tighter. Her hands automatically rose to his arm, trying to push him away. Her head started to spin, and she could feel the redness that rushed to her cheeks as she gasped for air that would fill her lungs.

“You were supposed to be mine!” His scream echoed in the empty corridor. Out of all the endings of her life, she truly did not foresee this one. There was a strike of a quick moment where she thought that death would be her redemption and eternal freedom she wished for. However, Y/N still had the will to fight for her life. She dug her nails into his arm, trying to push his hand away one more time, but he was too strong.

A click of a reloading gun seemed too muffled for her ears to notice, but when the sudden absence of pressure on her throat disappeared, and she could finally welcome the air in, she thanked God for being still in his favour.

Her knees have denounced their service, and she found herself on the ground. She went to touch her sore throat when a familiar hand did it before her. Y/N’s breath was still rocky, and she heard an annoying ringing in her ears. She barely could hear what Yoongi was screaming at the man who was recently near killing her.

“Y/N?” She heard Jimin’s voice, but she could not figure out where it was coming from. Her head was spinning like a carousel, and her vision was still a bit blurry. She wanted to speak up but she found it hard to do so.

“Can you breathe for me, darling?” She tried to stabilize her breathing but couldn’t stop panting for air.

“You have to try and calm down.” Seokjin was speaking to her, and by her blurry vision she saw another four figures around her. Two holding the younger Yamamoto for Yoongi, the other two attending to her.

Y/N went to try to speak again, even though she was fully aware that only high-pitched tones would come out that would make her words unrecognisable.

“I—” she tried, “I want—” she finally gulped down the little amount of saliva she had in her mouth.

“Bring her water right now.” Seokjin understood quickly. Her hearing was coming back to life and same for her vision. She could now see Jungkook and Hoseok dragging the man away from them, and Yoongi swiftly turning to examine the damage the man had done to his beloved.

By the time he fell down to his knees, cupping her cheeks, trying to read from her eyes, Jimin had returned with the water she needed. Yoongi helped her to hold the glass in both of her hands and drink it whole in one go.

“I do not want to stay here tonight,” she said with a raspy voice, feeling every muscle in her throat. Yoongi looked at her with worry in his eyes. He promised she would be safe with him, and within less than twelve hours, she was abducted, almost raped, and nearly choked to death.

“I am so sorry, baby,” said the young leader with remorse. “I am going to make it better, I promise.” Y/N’s ‘better’ however, contained something else than his ‘better’.

“We cannot leave right away—” tears escaped her eyes, falling heavy and hot on her dress. Yoongi was the Kkangpae and the enemy’s clan member just assaulted his wife. This cannot slip out without consequences.

“How dare you disrespect me and my wife this way,” said Yoongi to the older male from Yamamoto’s clan who had barely sat down in Yoongi’s office.

The younger offender, who had laid his hand on Y/N, was still firmly held by Hoseok and Jungkook. She sat in Yoongi’s office chair, a blanket draped over her shoulders, the purple bruises on her neck stark against her skin, certainly not flattering jewelry.

“How dare you disrespect our clan, Kkangpae Min.” The older male retorted, testing the younger leader’s patience. Yoongi clenched his hand into a fist, struggling to maintain control.

“This is far too unforgivable against what you assume I did,” he spat out quickly. Y/N wished she could just hide away and never come back, but as the Kkangpae’s wife, a Buin, she had to be present.

Yamamoto scoffed. “You are playing the game dirty, so are we—”

“Take this as a payback for meddling in our affairs, Kkangpae Min—” the older male started.

“And as far as traditions goes, she is yet to be your woman by our law and God’s will,” alluding to the inevitable — they had to consummate the marriage. Y/N knew this and had been making peace with the fact throughout the day.

“You won’t have to worry about that, Mr. Yamamoto,” Yoongi was always known for his cockiness whilst dealing with enemies, but he was also the most cautious man alive, however today was a misstep he did not wish to ever make. All this only proved he could not leave her alone — not because she might flee, but because someone could take her away from him. And he would never let her go.

“Watch me fucking continue meddling—” Yoongi retorted. “I see that you know the goddamn rules; I shall have his hand.” Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. She did not expect him to go unpunished for what he did to her, which would make Yoongi look unfit to rule. Itsuki started to squirm in their hold, attempting to break free.

“You want a war?” Yamamoto asked with venom in his voice.

“You apparently desire to have it when you assaulted my wife twice in one day.” Yoongi spat and signaled to Hoseok to bring Itsuki forward. Jungkook grabbed the hand that had been on Y/N’s neck less than an hour ago.

“Father!” Itsuki screamed with madness in his voice.

“Here you have it, you impatient imbecile!” his father screamed back at him, frustrated with both himself and his son. The plan had been to warn the Mins, not infuriate them.

Y/N watched Yoongi wordlessly as he took a short katana from Namjoon who appeared out of nowhere. The blade was sharp as a viper’s fang, and it gleamed in the dim light sourcing from the fireplace. The hilt, wrapped in silk, the colour of dried blood, felt cool and ominous in Yoongi’s hand.

She knew he’d have to swing it more than once to actually cut off Itsuki’s hand. Y/N gulped down her fear, pressing both hands to her mouth to stifle the scream that escaped when he first wielded the blade, piercing through Itsuki’s skin and colliding with bone, breaking it open. Burgundy blood streamed down to the wooden floor. Y/N clenched her eyes shut at the painful scream that followed and bounced slightly on the chair at the loud thump of the hand hitting the ground.

“You have one hour to leave our land,” Yoongi declared, aiming the katana at the leading Yamamoto. The son dropped to the ground, cradling his arm, staring at the severed hand and screaming in pain, muttering threats to the Min clan.

“You chose.” The older male looked over to Y/N who was still very much speechless and in utter shock from what occurred before her eyes. Yoongi’s gaze, momentarily lingering on his wife with furrowed brows, but quickly returned to Yamamoto. Their eyes locked, and the older man extended his hand to retrieve his injured son from the floor, leading him out of the room.

Yoongi dropped the katana onto the ground, tilting his head backwards in a brief prayer to the Lord. The room remained cloaked in heavy silence — not a peaceful silence, but one pregnant with the weight of a grim decision. A choice had been made, and its consequences were bound to unfold in darkness. This was a proclamation of war.

Y/N’s eyes remained fixed on the spot where Yamamoto’s hand was laying limp in a pool of fresh blood. As Yoongi straightened and turned his gaze toward her, his eyes were a tempest of conflicting emotions.

“You chose.”

Yoongi echoed Yamamoto’s words more as a question, his voice carrying a low, sombre resignation. He did not demand an answer; he knew what Yamamoto was talking about. Glancing down at his black shoes, now soaked with the blood of his enemy, Yoongi let out a soft laugh at the irony of her choosing him.

He understood the possibility that her choice might stem from self-preservation, realizing he could annihilate her entire family the moment she disappeared. Yet, his own selfishness shielded him from that harsh reality. Yoongi desperately wanted to believe that she returned to him and him alone.

Her eyes grew too heavy to stay open during the car ride back to the sanctuary. She allowed them a brief respite, letting the weight of exhaustion pull her into a momentary rest. The events of this day had been like a tempest, tearing through the delicate fabric of her reality and leaving chaos in its wake.

Y/N’s strength was something Yoongi admired, yet even he recognized the toll this day had taken on her. The hypocrite in him thinking that kind of evil will lead her to seek solace in him, perhaps finding that this was where she truly belonged — by his side.

She could have turned and run when the chance presented itself, disappearing into the wild. But she did not, and that is what mattered to Yoongi. For the first time, Y/N found herself yearning to return to the sanctuary, back to her golden cage.

Y/N knew that this night would be a reflection of the complexities of their relationship, a dance between desire and the darkness that surrounded them. Y/N understood that despite the arduous day, this had to be done. Bracing herself, she stepped out of the car and into the dark.

She walked slightly behind her now husband, letting him lead the way to the house she did not quite recognise. Before she mustered the courage to ask questions, he spoke first.

“I grew up in this house—” he whispered into the cold air, “a hot spring is right behind it.”

Y/N observed the house built into the massive stone walls of the valley, surrounded by tall pine trees. It was too dark for her to see just how tall they actually are, but the little flickering lights visible through the windows granted her a little peak.

“I want to spend tonight with you here,” he turned to face her. Yoongi could not tear his gaze away from her, adoring every detail—her eyes, cheeks, nose, hair, mouth. But if you would ask him, how did he come to be so obsessed with her, he would not give a cohesive answer. The inexplicable obsession he felt seemed right, like two puzzle pieces fitting together. He believed that even if she did not feel it now, she would eventually.

“Just the two of us.”

He took a little step to be closer to her. If Y/N understood correctly, this is the only place where they can be truly alone without prying eyes and ears. Yoongi wanted to talk and what’s more, he intended to do more than just talk tonight.

“Aight,” she replied slowly with her still sore throat. He had never seen her this calm, and he wanted to enjoy every minute she is not fighting against him — despite the disturbing circumstances that led to her current state of mind.

“Can we have some tea first?” she asked with little hope that he would agree to slow down a little bit. He chuckled at her sudden innocence and extended his arm to caress her cheek.

“Course we can, my love,” he smiled softly.

And so, they found themselves once again by the comforting embrace of a fireplace, patiently waiting for the tea to brew in the teapot’s gentle whistle.

There was something about this scenery that Yoongi could not help but love. Y/N, seated on the fur rug next to the warmth of the crackling flames, found solace in these quiet moments. After the tumultuous events of the day, it was a sanctuary they both needed. At least, she felt at peace in moments like these.

“I am sorry.” he suddenly confessed, his eyes revealing the genuine sorrow within. Today had left Yoongi conflicted, riding the highs of marrying the woman he desired while being weighed down by guilt for the day’s events.

Y/N met his gaze, her voice devoid of emotion as she calmly asked, “About what exact part?”

“All of it,” he shook his head. Y/N chuckled, and confusion flickered in Yoongi’s eyes.

“Are you not going to punish me, Kkangpae?” Here she goes.

“I do desire to know your relation to the boy, I won’t lie, but no.”

“There is no relation.”

“Are you sure? We talked about this already — no lies.”

“I’m not lying, he did fancy me, yes—” Yoongi’s grip on his hands tightened.

“—I thought we were friends, but he was not keen to flee away with me when I needed to,” she admitted.

“Do you mourn him?” Yoongi’s voice held a serious tone.

“I mourn the boy he was, not what he apparently became after we parted—” she began, carefully, collecting her thoughts.

“—they paid him to go and attempt rape me, Yoongi. I pray for his soul to find its peace after what sins he committed,” a tear escaped her eye, a sob followed. Yoongi leaned in, holding her small hands in an attempt to provide comfort.

“It was horrible,” she cried out and finally, she opened up to him.

“Amidst all the bad today, I’m so proud of you—” Y/N raised her blurry eyesight to meet him, awaiting an explanation.

“—You could have run, and you did not. You chose to come back to me.”

“I promise, I swear to you — I will never ever let that happen again—” he assured, moving closer to her.

She took a deep breath, summoning the courage to address the yet unspoken. “Can I get the letter, please?” Y/N whispered.

“In the morning.” He answered, intending to prolong it to ensure her continued good behaviour and obedience.

“Do we?-” She interrupted, praying for a change of his mind, though fully aware of the inevitability. He needed to ensure no loopholes in their marriage for others to exploit or for her to negotiate over. She knows this is mandatory.

“Yes, we do,” he acknowledged after some thought. Knowing what she had been through that day, he recognised the potential impact, but he also saw it as a way to fully claim her. It was a selfish desire, perhaps, but one he had long awaited.

Yoongi longed to feel her skin to skin. It was indeed selfish, he knew that much. Some would say it is careless of him to demand such an intimate act to happen after all she has been through. But he wanted to show her that this is a part of their marriage she can truly enjoy. Yoongi wanted to give a final full stop to their relationship by solidifying the union rightfully, as the tradition goes.

The flickering flames of the fireplace danced in the dimly lit room, casting a warm glow upon Y/N and Yoongi. Consummating the marriage was a private but necessary measure.

His selfishness had not gone unnoticed by the syndicate elders, who questioned his insistence on not just any hotel room but the house where generations of memories had been created. He deliberately wanted to spend the night in the house he grew up in, where his father started a family, and his grandfather, and his grandfather and so on down the history line.

Yoongi, having lost his parents at a young age, yearned to start his own family. He wanted to witness the growth of his children, their marriages, and their own families.

Y/N knew this day would come, sooner or later, and as a young woman, she had learnt to protect herself from unplanned consequences. She understood his desire for a child, though he never explicitly discussed it with her. But she was far from being ready to surrender to the life fate had planned for her, not just yet.

Heaven had given her a sign, a slight hope when she found a particular herb in the garden before the first snow fell. Y/N had kept it discreet, asking the maid to dry the flowers and serve them as tea in the morning. Tonight, she was calm, knowing it could not happen, even if he wished otherwise.

Yoongi observed her hesitance, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and resilience. The room, with its walls that held generations of memories, seemed to echo with the weight of tradition and expectation. But as he reached out to touch her cheek gently, his eyes softened.

The sharp sound of a loud whistle from the tea kettle startled them both, tearing them out of the cocoon of their thoughts. The iron kettle hung gracefully over the open flame, steam rising in wisps as if trying to escape the weight of the night. Yoongi carefully prepared the tea, his movements deliberate and unhurried. The aroma of freshly brewed leaves filled the air. The porcelain teapot, an heirloom passed down through generations, sat patiently on the wooden small table that was next to them. As he poured the tea into delicate cups, he eyed her small physique yet again, searching for any signs.

She accepted the cup he offered her, the warmth seeping through the delicate porcelain. Her mind briefly paused when she recognised the familiar scent. She chuckled and Yoongi raised his eyebrows in surprise, awaiting her words. Y/N took a few careful sips from the cup, accepting what it offered.

“Are you afraid, Kkangpae?” She asked, taking another sip. Yoongi put his cup on the wooden table and looked directly in her eyes.

“Me? No,” he pointed at himself, hiding a smile.

“So why did you choose to make tea from Valerian root?” Her studies that surely included herbalism had escaped Yoongi’s mind.

“I knew this night would be difficult for you, and I — I wanted to ensure it went as smoothly as possible,” he confessed.

“Considerate,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. Yoongi’s gaze faltered, and he looked away momentarily.

“I want you to enjoy it—”

“Then make me enjoy it,” she interrupted him yet again, gulping down the contents of her cup, setting it down with a gentle clink next to his almost full one.

“I intend to,” he said. The complexities of tradition, the weight of the syndicate expectations, seemed to press down on them like the heavy beams of the hanok. Yet, he was thrilled at the prospect of laying her down and making love to her, while she tried to make peace with the path ahead.

A mixture of emotions played across Y/N’s face, the tension in the air made her anxious. The tea flowed in her system, calming her. The steps were set, and she cannot back down now.

His hands cradled her face, a gesture that held both tenderness and an unspoken understanding. But Y/N knows he will never understand. And thus, the night unfolded.

The hanok, with its wooden beams and paper windows, seemed to breathe with the rhythm of their footsteps. The aroma of tea still lingered within the walls, all the way back in the house.

“Pray with me?” a soft plea that resonated with the hallowed surroundings. They settled on top of the low cushion bed; he held both her hands in his. The subtle sounds of the valley outside, muffled by the hanji-covered windows, crackling fire nearby — the low hum of their shared prayer filled the room, blending with the whispers of the winter wind outside.

As they concluded their prayers, the world outside the hanok continued its silent ballet with nature. Yoongi slowly let her hands fall into her lap. Y/N kept looking at her hands, biting her lower lip.

He extended his hands pulling out the golden pins from her hair, releasing them.

“You are magnificent,” he whispered into her lips that were anticipating his. She looked into his eyes one last time before she slowly closed them, awaiting him to take the first step. Y/N could feel both his hands on the swell of her bottom, slightly squeezing it and thus making her pant into his mouth. He pulled her into his lap, not distancing their close proximity. Not now. Not ever.

A deep groan released from his throat when she fully sat down in his lap. Y/N was straddling him, feeling his stiff manhood tightly pressed against her core making her breath hitch. He moved his hand from its place on her butt cheek to the swell of her clothed breast.

“Let me make love to you.” He kissed her lips very gently, waiting for her response. She knew he would do so even if she would not give him her consent. And once she shyly nodded her head, he dove right in and kissed her very deeply, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He was hungry and only she could sate him.

He continued to press himself against her core, creating at least some friction in between, aiming to hit the right spot and make her sing for him.

Yoongi was trying to trace down the opening of her qipao, feeling the delicately made buttons on her chest. Not for a moment he stopped kissing her, unbuttoning her dress and hiking it up from its hem on her thighs, showing her undergarments and pulling it all the way up her head —throwing the peace of clothing that provided her warmth, perhaps even a security blanket, away.

Her neck was his next target. He bent his head making hers to lean back to allow him access. Yoongi layered down butterfly kisses all over her, now, naked, bruised neckline. “You are such a good girl.” He muttered into her skin, caressing her bottom while he placed his hand back to her right breast.

Y/N could feel her nipples stiffen under the change of temperature, or perhaps the excitement her body was going through, which she did not want to admit. He took one of her hands who were inactive till now and placed it on his chest near the small buttons of his shirt. Trying to send a mental message for her to touch him too — undress him too.

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to come to her senses. Out of this ectasis. But she could not. His work on her neck was becoming troublesome, not mentioning his roaming hands. She was never touched by man lovingly, but she could not deny that he is making her heart skip just by teasing her.

Her small shaky fingers finally reached to the buttons whilst he was abusing her chest with hot kisses. She unbuttoned the first one, then the second until she reached the last. “That’s it baby.” He encouraged her to continue slipping his shirt down from his body.

He straightened himself and looked deeply into her eyes, his voice filled with desire and longing. “I love you.” Said Yoongi when he slowly slid his hand in between them cupping her clothed heat. Millions of little butterflies erupted in her lower belly, her breath hitched, silent moan coming out of her swollen lips when he started to rub circles, moving her clitoris through the fabric. She could feel herself leaning into him, her body responding to his touch.

The room was filled with an intoxicating blend of desire and anticipation. He caressed her back until he reached the opening of her western style cone bra that she wore under the dress. Popping it open her eyes snapped open too. But the pleasure was overshadowing her sound judgment, and he knew she would at some point try to resent him a little, that’s why he did not hesitate to throw it the same direction as her qipao, not wasting time and taking her already hard nipple into his mouth. Her eyes widened; pupils dilated.

He was taking his sweet time loving her every inch before he laid her down on the bed, hovering above her. Dominating her. Yoongi’s hands moved with a gentle urgency, his kisses becoming more fervent as their passion ignited. He hooked his fingers into her undergarments, not giving her a chance to protest when he quickly pulled them down her legs, tepid air hitting her centre.

It’s when he went to spread her legs touching her knees she took his wrist into her small hand, looking deep down into his eyes, tears swelling in, realisation hitting her. Yoongi did not seem to be angry or displeased. He understood why this action triggered her and therefore he led her hands to his belt, giving her a chance to yet again give him her consent to proceed. He wanted her to fall in love with him, not to fear him. He dreaded the day when he will have to use different measures to convince, she is his woman and no one else can touch her.

The little rat was a big mistake. Yoongi did not expect him to go as far as to attempt to rape her. But he knew that the boy was coming. He knew it’s Yakuza’s move, and he knew when they would strike,and he was ready. What he wasn’t ready for was Chan-yeol’s betrayal. Nobody is betraying Kkangpae Min, nor no one will dare to touch his wife after what he will do to the traitor.

“You’re alright, baby.” He attempted to assure her, putting her small hands on his belt. Y/N’s fingers were yet again shaking when she was undoing his belt. She was now fully aware of her laying naked body. She could feel the goosebumps forming on her skin.

As Yoongi’s belt came undone, he couldn’t help but marvel at the strength and resilience that radiated from her. She had endured so much in such a short span of time, yet here she was, willingly surrendering herself to him.

He pulled down the pants, together with his undergarments. A loud thud followed once they fell down to the floor. He bent down to her belly and placed a small kiss just below her belly button and one slightly lower to her yet uninhabited womb.

“I need to help you relax your muscles a little.” Said he. She felt his hot breath on her inner thighs, shaking in his hold. He slid his hand down to her core yet again, touching her without any barrier for the first time. Y/N took a deep breath and another one when he slid his finger down her folds and up, making her pussy produce wet juices. His lips were on her collarbone when he unexpectedly slid his index finger inside her making her moan loudly, yelp even.

“Shhh…” He cooked at her, kissing her lips passionately, while thrusting his finger slowly in and out of her heat. She could feel a prick of pain in the area Yoongi’s finger occupied. Y/N’s moans became a mix of moderate pain and pleasure altogether.

She could feel his other hand move away from caressing her hip to his member which he started to slowly stroke. Y/N could see that he was more than ready — his cock big, stiff and red, pre-cum leaking from its tip. He wanted to dive into her heat badly. But he needed to stretch her out a little more, so she won’t suffer that much pain. Yoongi smiled when he spotted her eyeing his body through half-lidded eyes, panting, yet being focused specifically on his manhood.

He towered above her, pulling his finger out of her heat. Sudden emptiness surrounded her walls that were finally adjusting to the intruder. She gasped when she felt his hands pulling her closer to him. Her legs were on each side of his hips. Y/N observed his body, his toned skin, slight muscles, his well-built torso — all the way down his V line, adorned with soft hair.

She snapped out of her thought train once he climbed on top of her and pressed his manhood in between her folds, sliding it up and down, covering it in her juices. Moan escaped her mouth once he put a little bit of pressure, stimulating her clitoris. He moved his hips slowly, trying to hold himself to not to thrust it in just yet.

He raised his left hand and intertwined his fingers with hers pinning it above her head while attacking her lips again. Y/N’s hand instinctively slapped his chest trying to push him away just a little, but his little smirk into her lips assured her that he wanted that kind of reaction from her.

And when she awaited it the least, he thrust himself into her, making her bite down his lower lip. He groaned at the sensation. His lip was bleeding, but he could not care less. “No—” She let go of his lip and an incoherent sound came out of her throat, eyes welling up with tears.

“Yoongi, it hurts too much.” She stated the obvious, crying whilst trying to breath. Enormous heat wave just hit her, and she was desperately wanting to make her head stop spinning.

“I know, baby. I know.” He whispered into her lips, trying to take his own breathing under control. She feels like heaven to him. His everlasting home. His love. This is where he was supposed to be all his life.

He tried to move very slowly, making her cry even more, but he couldn't stop. “It will stop I promise.” He kissed her tears away, stretching her walls to the fullest with his manhood. Silently moaning into her lips.

It took quite a while for her to adjust to the stretch and tension, fullness inside of her. Yoongi explored every inch of her naked body, his hands caressing her with a gentleness that belied his previous actions. In this moment, she was not defined by the traumas of her past or the expectations of their marriage. Their bodies moved in perfect sync once the pain yielded a little.

The room was filled with the sounds of their mingled loud moans and the crackling of the fire. The warmth of the fireplace mirrored the growing heat between them, intensifying the pleasure that coursed through their veins.

Yoongi’s movements became a little faster, more deliberate to draw as much pleasure from her as he could. He wanted to show her that their union was not solely physical but a one of love. With each whisper of reassurance and each gentle caress, he aimed to erase any lingering fears and insecurities that she held.

His thrusts were becoming sloppy after a while, he could feel her shaking against him. But not from fear but from pleasure. He mustered what he could to take her over the edge for the very first time in her life. Y/N could feel the butterflies in her stomach tying somewhat knot that she wanted them to release badly. Her hand slipped into his hair, tucking it tightly whilst he was thrusting into her heat, making her moan loudly into his mouth. He was very close, but he wanted her to come with her. And as they were reaching the peak of passion, their bodies trembling with pleasure, Yoongi held Y/N close, their hearts beating in sync.

Their moans became louder and louder every second they were nearing the summit. “Yoongi—!” she screamed his name out when she was sure the knot was about to burst. “Baby—” he could not even finish a sentence he meant to say once she came undone under him, trembling from the pleasure, her mouth agape, eyes tightly closed — her walls still vibrating around him. Not even a second later his loud cry followed as he spilled thick ropes of cum inside of her. His eyes closed, and he was breathing heavily. When he opened his eyes, she was already looking at him, her mouth still slightly open as she was panting. Her eyes seemed glossy but so were his. He caressed the side of her thigh whilst gently kissing her swollen lips, whispering how much he loves her.

Slowly pulling out of her heat, substituting with his fingers plunging his cum mixed with hints for crimson blood, back into her heat he lowered his body yet again to her belly. Kissing where he assumed her womb was, he whispered a prayer.

“May the Lord bless us with a miracle.”

I N T E R L O G U E

The father’s rage reverberated in the confined space of the car. “You could not have just fucking waited, you little prick!” his frustration boiling over.

Still grappling with the pain of his missing arm, the one-handed son shot back defiantly, blood seeping through the bandages “You said everything would work out in our favour!”

The car they were sitting in was slowing down until it stopped altogether. The older male looked around in confusion. They were nowhere near the docks for their escape to Fukuoka.

“It would if you’d just shut your damn cock instincts, you stupid boy!” the Yakuza leader hissed, attempting to keep his anger in check.

Blinded by fury, he failed to notice the car taking a series of wrong turns, leading them into a desolate no man’s land. When the driver turned to face them, blood reached his ears.

“Kkangpae Min sends you good wishes on your journey to hell.”

to be continued

author's note: f finally yall!!!!! as I already said this chapter was a lot, ain't gonna lie about that, but everything is going according to the plan so don't worry. This was my first smut in english and I'm so scared of yall's reaction... Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, it was an emotional roller-coaster to write, especially the implied non-con and smut after all the reader had to endure, poor gal. I love to see your comments that basically express that you understand the story's essence and for that I love you all so much ♥ We'll see what will happen in next chapter :))

shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter! Love you bae!!!!

Love you all!! ♥

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @chaoticpuff17 - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts

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flowerandblood · 10 months

Text

The Impossible Choice (22)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: angst, violence, domination ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

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

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

Aemond's journey on Vhagar to Winterfell, which would take a week on horseback, took him two days. The North was like a white, glistening wilderness to him, once in a while small, grey villages and the strongholds of minor lords could be seen on the ground.

When he finally reached his destination he had to admit that Lord Stark's fortress impressed him − his great stone fortress floated among the snow-covered hills.

Vhagar's arrival led to panic and the local population fleeing away from her resting place − Aemond ordered her to stay where he thought that her large body would do the least damage, on a hill away from the stronghold.

He was welcomed by the guards, to whom he announced who he was and to whom he was coming.

He was received with honours and hospitality; the young lord, Cregan Stark, sat with his advisors behind a long wooden table, looking at him with concern.

Aemond knew that the Starks had never broken their promises, and his father had sworn allegiance to his whore-sister.

He had to change his mind.

"My Lord." He said lowly, nodding. Lord Stark also nodded in response.

"My Prince. I must admit I am surprised to see a messenger from the Red Keep in areas so far from King's Landing. Explain to me with what matter you come with." He said calmly, but also with a kind of suspicion that he did not like − he knew that he had to be careful with his words.

"I come on behalf of my brother-king, who has expressed his wish for you to pay him homage in King's Landing, along with the other lords." He said matter-of-factly, not taking his eye off him.

He, however, did not lower his gaze either; he furrowed his brow, surprised, glancing quickly at the maester, who whispered something in his ear. There was a commotion behind the table.

He found with amusement that the word of his brother's coronation had not reached Winterfell before he arrived.

He thought this was a good thing, as he had taken them by surprise and could press them.

Cregan Stark grunted loudly, looking at him uncertainly.

"What of your half-sister, the legitimate heir to the throne established by your father-king?" He asked, trying to hide his nervousness and stress, his hand clenched into fist on the table in front of him.

He pressed his lips together, wondering how much he could allow himself with him.

He figured that the boy was about Jace's age.

"My father, on his deathbed, decided that he would not go against the will of his ancestors, and that his first-born son should sit on the Iron Throne." He said with certainty and smirked, seeing the commotion behind the table again, the tentative conversation distracting the young lord.

"Silence!" He called out loudly, raising his hand, the men around him fell quiet. Lord Stark hid his face in his hands, letting the air out quietly. He wanted to say something, but didn't have time; a guard stepped inside, bowing low.

"My Lord, forgive my boldness, but a messenger from Dragonstone has arrived." He said quickly, his heart pounding fast in anticipation, a cold sweat run down his back.

He prayed it was Luke.

He pressed his lips together as Jace was led inside; the boy stopped abruptly, clearly frightened at the sight of him − he felt like laughing at this pathetic sight. Jace, however, pulled himself together and walked closer, still at a safe distance from him, bowing to the young lord.

"My Lord. I come by order of my queen-mother to remind you of your father's oath of allegiance to her years ago." He said in trembling voice, straightening up.

This was something that he had not anticipated.

Lord Stark stared at them with his mouth open, himself not knowing what to make of the situation, horrified and confused. He shook his head, pressing his fingers together between his furrowed brows, letting the air out with impatience.

"I'm lost. Do we have a King or a queen then?" He asked, clearly upset and frightened by the fact that a skirmish was about to take place in his court that completely did not concern him. He grinned mischievously at his question, looking at Jace with a satisfied expression on his face.

"My bastard nephew is flying around the kingdom, trying to steal my brother's throne." He said lightly. Jace lit up with a blush of shame and clenched his jaw, looking away, intertwining his hands behind his back in an attempt to calm himself.

"My uncle and his family have committed treason, planting a usurper, drunkard and rapist on the throne." Said Jace, looking at the young lord.

Cregan Stark laughed at their words, shaking his head, clearly disbelieving what was happening before his eyes − his advisors also seemed confused, looking at them uncertainly.

He thought with rage that it had become a spectacle.

"After your whore mother, who should sit on the Iron Throne? You, Lord Strong?" He asked tauntingly; Jace almost threw himself at him but the guards stopped him, catching him under the shoulders. He laughed out loud, shaking his head, furious and amused at the same time.

"Laugh, uncle. Unlike you, Lord Stark and the North know what honour and loyalty are. The North never forgets. Luke will remind your wife's father of that as well." He said with satisfaction, as if he thought that he had found his soft spot and made no mistake.

He tried to do his best to restrain his involuntary reaction but couldn't, his eye widened in shock, his brow furrowed in concern.

Luke will remind your wife's father of this as well.

Luke flew to Storm's End.

He no longer cared about Lord Stark's decision, whether he would support his brother or not − he felt like rushing out and flying on Vhagar straight to Lord Baratheon's stronghold.

"Enough of this childish pushing. My father supported the heir chosen by King Viserys and I will not question his decision. Is there any document confirming the King's change of will or am I merely to take your word for it, my Prince?" Lord Stark asked him, and he pressed his lips together, turning his head away impatiently.

He had nothing to back up his words, because he didn't believe them himself.

He saw Jace throw him a look full of satisfaction and thought that he would pierce his skull with his sword one day.

"If my words mean nothing to you, Lord Stark, so be it. However, be prepared that when me and Vhagar return, not even a stone will be left here."

He left the stronghold angry and bitter; he thought that until Jace arrived everything had gone according to plan and cursed loudly at the thought that he would have to return to King's Landing reporting his failure.

His brother ordered him to return to the Red Keep immediately after his conversation with Lord Stark, but he made a different decision.

He ordered Vhagar to fly to the skies and headed for Storm's End.

Through the storms and heavy rains, the journey took him longer than he had planned and he wondered if he would still find his wife there.

He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to arrive unannounced, but he was too desperate to wait for her to return to King's Landing.

He would go mad if he had to wait any longer.

When he arrived the weather was similar to when he had come to choose his future wife; all wet, he called out to the guards to lead him inside, and they immediately obeyed his command, recognising him.

It was the middle of the night, and his unannounced visit had brought everyone to their feet − Lord Baratheon was waiting for him in the throne room, dressed hastily in his daytime attire, clearly unhappy to be awakened from his peaceful sleep.

"Forgive me this intrusion, my Lord. I wish to see my wife." He said quickly, water dripping from his wet, white hair onto the stone floor − only now did he feel that he was trembling all over from the cold.

Borros sighed heavily and ordered his servants to take him to his daughter's chamber.

As he stepped inside, his wife jumped up, terrified, looking at him with her mouth parted, lightning and heavy, gusty rain outside the window − it seemed to him that she was not sure whether she was dreaming or not.

"Aemond?" She asked quietly, uncertainly, and for a moment he could not move.

He looked at her gentle face, her large eyes, her loose, shiny hair wonderfully framing her soft cheeks; he could see the outline of her girlish silhouette through the thin material of her nightgown, a body that belonged only to him.

He realised with pain how much he wanted her, the separation of a few days had made his cock pulsate painfully in his breeches.

"Did you speak to him?" He asked impassively, looking at her as if he wanted to devour her.

He felt like throwing himself at her, but he needed to hear it.

To hear that she had obeyed, that she had done what her husband would have wanted her to do.

He saw her press her lips together and tense up all over.

He did not like it.

He felt his heart pounding hard and stepped closer to her; she moved back, looking at him pleadingly, sitting down on her bed.

"We only exchanged a few words, I didn't expect him to come here." She said horrified, clearly noticing on his face how slowly rage began to pulse through his veins − he felt that he was so tense that something in his body was about to burst.

"What did you discuss, sweet wife?" He sneered, a malicious, poisonous threat in his mouth, evidence of the madness that lurked in his mind and heart.

He saw that she feared him now, that she could already see right through him.

"I told him to send my condolences to his mother for the death of her child." She whispered quietly, trembling all over, frightened, waiting anxiously for his reaction.

He felt that if he could, he would have breathed fire with rage.

What right did she have to meddle in these matters?

What right did she have to sympathise with his enemies, to speak to the bastard who had disfigured him for life?

He felt all his frustration, the failure of his mission in Winterfell, his failure as brother and son crush him under its own weight, the fire that burned within him was as black as his heart, consuming even its light, turning everything into a void.

His lips curved in a dangerous, animalistic grin.

"I'd rather you concentrated on giving an heir to me, instead of considering the offspring of others. You're not very successful at it so far, are you?"

He felt his own heart stop when he heard what he left his mouth and he regretted his words immediately.

He saw in her gaze that she didn't believe it either − her face took on an expression that he had never seen before; her eyebrows arched in pain, her eyes looking at him in disbelief as if he had just his her in the stomach with all his strength, her body trembling on the verge of sobbing.

He wanted her to say something.

For her to say that he was a fucking bastard.

For her to ask how dare he speak to her like that.

"Forgive me for being a disappointment to you, my Prince." She said so painfully calm that he couldn't get anything out.

My Prince.

Not my husband.

He stared at her, unable to move, having a complete blank in his mind − his wife lowered her gaze, letting the tears of humiliation and pain leave the corners of her eyes and run down her cheeks.

He wanted to approach her, to wipe them away, to place tender kisses full of devotion and longing on her sweet, soft face, to tell her that he didn't think so, that he had said it in rage only to hurt her.

He couldn't get the words out.

He lowered his gaze, swallowing loudly, horrified by what he had just done.

He had destroyed everything.

Everything they had built together.

He had crushed her, hit her most sensitive spot because she had dared to show compassion to his nephew.

Because she wasn't as cold and calculating as he was.

Because she was a better person.

He saw her turn over on the bed, laying with her back to him; he knew that she was crying, that he had hurt her, stabbed her in the back.

He wanted to approach her and had already taken a step towards her when he heard her voice.

"− please, don't touch me −" She mumbled and he felt the cold flowing through his body, the tightness in his chest from which his brow arched in pain.

"− return with me to King's Landing −" He choked out pleadingly, wishing only that she would forget what he had said.

That he could go back to the moment that he had walked into her chamber and begin all over again, just throw himself on top of her, panting with longing as he had desired.

"− no −"

He stood for a moment longer looking at her with a blank stare, then turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

He flew through the skies, screaming along with the lightning in the heavens, furious and distraught, pressing his face against his saddle.

He was a mere fool, a weak brat who destroys everything in his path.

He walked into the Red Keep furious, tired and discouraged, the thought of not seeing her for a few more days drove him mad.

He laid down on the bed in his chamber, trying to sleep, exhausted − however after moment his servant entered his chamber, saying that the King was expecting him.

He thought that in the state he was in now, without his wife being able to calm him down, he might have killed him.

Aegon welcomed him in his chamber, sitting at a large table, having just eaten his morning meal.

"Welcome, brother. Sit down and speak." He said lightly, taking a sip of wine, wasting no time since the morning.

He, however, just stood, looking at him indifferently, thinking on whether if he cut his throat now he would be able to throw it at one of his servants.

"Jace came to Winterfell right after me. Fucking honourable Starks don't forget their oaths." He said dispassionately − Aegon sighed heavily, stroking his chin.

"Grandfather will not be pleased." He said lightly, as if his younger borther had just broken a very valuable vase and was about to be punished for it − he chuckled under his breath at that thought.

"Of course. He's the one who actually wears the crown, not you." He hissed; Aegon looked at him warningly, and for a moment they stared at each other, tension hanging in the air between them. Finally, however, his brother grinned as if remembering something.

"I am sending you and Criston to Harrenhal." He said calmly, and he froze, looking at him in disbelief.

"What?"

"An uprising has broken out in support of our sister-whore. They've hanged our Lord Strong in his castle. You have to deal with it, because I don't think we want the other Lords to consider revolting as well?" He asked, plucking one grape from the bunch, taking it into his mouth with a loud crunch of juice.

He looked at him horrified and pale, unable to utter a word.

"For how long?" He asked uncertainly, and his brother laughed under his breath as if he found his question amusing.

"As long as you deal with it." He said softly, taking another grape in his hand. Aemond thought for a long time, looking at him.

"In this case, I'm taking my wife with me as soon as she returns from Storm's End." He said with emphasis, intertwining his hands behind his back, impatient.

He couldn't allow her to be left alone with his brother, much less after the way he had treated her.

He knew that he had to try to make it up to her, but he didn't know what could make her forget such hurtful words.

"You are to set off immediately." Said his brother in an unobjectionable tone, raising an impatient gaze at him. "Your wife will be safe here and will wait patiently for you."

He looked at him with his lips pressed together, his heart pounding like mad.

He was doing this on purpose.

He wanted to push him away from her, so that she would remain in the keep completely defenceless.

"No." He hissed low, squinting. "I will fly with my wife, or not at all."

Aegon stood up slowly, walking around the table, watching him closely. He smiled broadly.

"Be careful or I'll think you've fallen in love with her. Don't be silly. It wasn't a request. Do you want your wife to become a widow?" He asked lightly, raising an eyebrow, waiting for his answer.

He looked at him in disbelief, his lip parted slightly.

The power drove him completely mad.

He wondered what they had done, putting him on the throne, placing a crown on his empty head.

Aegon, seeing his lack of response, patted him on the shoulder, exactly like the day that he'd taken him to the brothel.

"Get that matter sorted out and go back to fuck your wife as much as you like, brother."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @tempt-ress @blairfox4 @crazymusicgirl104 @ahristata

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